Phew.
So the triathlon is over. It is incredibly bittersweet. I no longer have the anxiety devil sitting on my shoulder saying 'are you sure you're ready? you could probably practice open-water swimming some more... you should get used to your bike some more... maybe another brick workout would be a good idea... do you have everything?... what will you do if __________ happens? how will you get down to the race? how will you get back?' on and on and on.
But at the same time... I want something to train for again. I thoroughly enjoy working out and everything, but there is nothing more motivating that having an event to train for. The fact that THIS event was so loaded with its good cause (LLS-- whoop whoop) made it even better.
So, TNT raised over $300,000 for LLS through the Chicago Triathlon. JOB WELL DONE. Each of you who donated can claim part in that $300,000 that will enable LLS to conduct research to cure blood cancers. At the pasta dinner, one of our Teammates spoke about her battle with blood cancer. It blows my mind how de-sensitized I can get to the concept of cancer. The second I hear somebody talk about their own struggle with it, the significance of the illness overwhelms me. When I hear about THEIR hair falling out after chemo, THEIR depression that resulted after the diagnosis and continued because of their lack of support system, THEIR families who were torn apart by this deadly diagnosis that takes every priority one HAD in life, throws it out the window and takes up residence as the first, second and third priority in life. When I hear about THEIR battle I am heartbroken and honestly-- angry. We're supposedly an intelligent nation. Even if not filled with the smartest of people we certainly have some top-notch equipment and resources, right? Why haven't we cured this disease that is plaguing so many people at a nauseatingly rapid rate? Why haven't we done what we actually CAN DO to prevent these people from going bald, falling to depression and losing their families? I get mad at everyone around me who hasn't done what they can, and I get mad at myself. It seems like you can't go a day without seeing "send money for this disaster relief" or "sponsor our charity runner" or "support me as I do missions abroad." Selfishly, I've ignored those dawning the pathetic excuse I'm a student, I can't afford it, or more recently, I just graduated...I don't have a financial cushion yet, I can't donate. So what. To the woman who wakes up with another CLUMP of hair on her pillow, my donation would mean the world. Not only would it be a chip in the stone of finding a cure to the illness that is slowly and greedily killing her, but it would also show her that she has support. People care. People will sacrifice their comfort in life to help her hold on to hers. I get mad that more isn't being done, but then I get frustrated because there are so many opportunities to donate to these things. Like I said, it's a daily bombardment of people seeking support for their genuinely worthy causes. How can I show them that I actually support them and what they're doing without going absolutely bankrupt??? I think that has actually helped me to not be so jaded towards ...the world, haha. Just because someone didn't donate to LLS through my participation in the triathlon with TNT doesn't mean they don't care and doesn't mean they don't support legit things outside of LLS. ANYWAYS-- regardless of my internal turmoil about society and myself... $300,000 is fantastic and I am just so proud of everyone who donated both monetarily and of resources, encouragement, prayers, and good vibes. I could not have done this race and this fundraising without each of you. THANK YOU. With every ounce of my being, thank you so much for the support you have given me and ultimately everyone affected by blood cancers.
Man, I get riled up too easy. More later. I'm currently looking for another triathlon. I have somethings to fix.
Saturday, August 30, 2008
Monday, August 25, 2008
Well, I'm sure if you've read this thing once before, you are aware of my habit of being over-wordy. Since the triathlon was the climax of all previous posts, I will do my best to be concise and not draw it out too much. That being said...
The Triathlon. Oh boy.
It all started Saturday morning with the GIANT expo downtown. I was there for two and a half hours, getting
my packet and swim cap, looking at all the excessive accessories I could indulge in, and listening to the course talk. I finally tore myself away and headed back home. I stopped at Walgreen's on the way and bought 64 ounces of Gatorade, 5 Clif Bars (5 for $5-- I'm a sucker for a sale), waterproof mascara, and gum. So I scurried home with much more baggage than I left with (between the expo and Walgreen's, I was getting an extra lifting session in!). At my apartment I overtook the living room and spread out everything I'd need on race day. That included three swim caps, two swim suits, my race number and belt, wetsuit, two pairs of goggles, helmet, 'triathlon shorts,' TNT top and t-shirt (still hadn't decided which I'd wear..), bike tools, bike pack, hydration pack, shoes, flip flops, towel, three water bottles, Clif Bars, gum, change of clothes, and much more. Crazy! I soon realized it was time to go to th
e TNT Pasta Dinner that started at 6pm downtown. There, we ate buttery pasta and white bread while learning about our fundraising totals, the future goals of TNT, and heard one of our Teammate's personal battle with blood cancer. It was nice to have that time to be motivated by the fundraising numbers (over $300,000 by the Chicago team-- PHENOMENAL!!!) and to mentally prepare for the ensuing race. Admittedly, my mind was wandering-- I was trying to figure out how quickly I could get to bed! I left the pasta party around 8pm, got home by 9:15. There was still some l
ast minute preparing to do which included putting everything that was spread out on the floor in my bag and 
trying on all the spandex one last time to make sure it wasn't TOO appalling. I was SUPER nervous... but forced myself to believe that I was READY.
So, I set my alarm for 2:00am (!!!) and prayed that I wouldn't oversleep. I woke up at 12:30 and was deliriously convinced it was 3:30am. OH NO! I AM SO LATE! I JUMPED out of bed (dangerous-- I have
a loft!) and started to get my things together. As I scurried to get my water bottles out of the freezer, I saw the time on the oven 12:34. You've got to be kidding me. I shuffled back to my bedroom both relieved and irritated. I did end up oversleeping, but only by 30 minutes. I'd prepared for this as I didn't really have to get up until 2:30. I nervously got ready then headed out. I'd originally planned to take the El downtown because I wanted to save my legs for the race. This made me nervous, though, because the El is under construction which screws everything up no matter how diligently one plans. I even asked the CTA worker on my way home from the pasta party what I could do to get downtown by 4am the following morning. He looked at me like I was nuts and then called someone and said I could take the Red Line. Doable. However, I just didn't trust it. So as I rode the Iron Horse to the nearest Red Line stop, I hesitated and ended up riding past it, halfway on purpose. I spontaneously decided to nix that plan and to just ride down to Transition. It was about a 6 mile ride, a perfect warm up. You may recall my whining about the popularity and crowded-ness of the Lake Front trail in the past, but I have found a solution to that: ride at 3:30 in the morning and it is EMPTY. It was one of the best rides I've ever had on that trail! There were a couple of people I noticed along the way who were still enjoying their Saturday night. One couple was even reproducing right there on the side of the trail-- gutsy. The trail is great until you get to Navy Pier, then it gets funny. At this point I saw someone else who looked Triathlon-bound and decided to follow them because I had no idea where to go. I watched as he followed a car that was closing the on ramp to Lake Shore Drive (as this is where the bike leg would be taking place). Since it was closed, the biker went up the on ramp. I decided to follow my fellow idiot in hopes it would get me to Transition in time. Well, just because the on ramp is closed doesn't mean all cars are off the highway! That was an adrenaline rush... if I wasn't quite awake yet, the sound of super speedy cars not far from me sure did the trick! Fortunately my daredevil leader got off at the next opportunity and we were spit out right at transition at 4:15am. Perfect timing. Phew.
I put my number on my bike and helmet, strapped the timing chip on my ankle, and wheeled in to the mini-city also kno
wn as Transition. Holy canoli it was HUGE. To capture its enormity, one would need to be in an airplane. It was pitch black and people were rushing around like morons, convinced they'd win the race and everyone around them was some peon in their way. Psh. I was relieved to find the rack for my wave (46 of 54.. sick), and then to find some of my Teammates that were in my wave. We set our space up and then I walked the Transition area with one of them. We went from the 'Swim In' to our bikes, then to the 'Bike Out,' which was also the bike in. We then went back to our spot, then to the 'Run Out.' That was probably one of the best things I did, because had I not done it, I would have been painfully lost during the race! Walking it allowed me to be oriented 
within Transition and to find landmarks to look for during the race that would help me find my spot faster and be more efficient. We then ventured over to the swim start where we'd WAIT for FIVE HOURS!!! Wave 46 didn't start until 9:21am. PAINFUL. Despite our later start, we still had to arrive at 4:15am because transition closed at 5:45am and with 8,700 participants signed up, I didn't want to be one of the late comers trying to fight my way in amongst the masses at the last minute. The swim start was a good jaunt from Transition, and as we walked along the lake the sun was starting to rise. It was BEAUTIFUL. The sunrise alone would have made it worth it to wake up at 
2:30. 
We continued on like ants in a line. There were so many people there, I started to get uneasy. By the time we actually got to the start, the first wave was lining up. Even though I still had about three and a half hours until my start, I felt like I was late! The race was starting and I was JUST getting there!! I lined up with the spectators to watch them go. I really wanted to see how this 
whole swim start would go down-- I'd heard so many rumors of assault and pure mayhem. I soon s
aw, and would later experience, that they were not rumors, but fair warnings. After scaring myself even more so, I went to find the TNT 'spot' a few hundred yards from the Swim Start. Then I waited... for eternity. Essentially, everyone would have to wait on race day-- either for their wave to start (if you had a late start), or for transition to re-open (if you had an early start). I waited before I raced which would have been my last choice because I psych myself out before things like this. I psych myself out before I go running on my own if I'm given too much time to think about it much less the largest triathlon IN THE WORLD! So for the next three-ish hours I hydrated, ate a Clif Bar and an orange, and wre
stled with butterflies. At one point, herky-jerky hip coach came up to me and said: "For the swim, get in the second row. You're a strong swimmer and belong in the front. Hold your ground. If you stay in back, you'll spend the first couple hundred yards fighting through people." I looked at him quite puzzled... this was the man who told me that I was a pretty pathetic swimmer due to my lack of abdominal muscles (remember: "Do you do any ab work.. at all???"). So I said 'well, okay,' but was really thinking WHAT?! That ruined my whole plan! I was totally content hanging out in the back and letting the crazies beat each other up and disperse, then commence my race! I had zero plan of getting in there and swimming through people AND water! Shoot.
Lets discuss hydrating: it is SO important in these things-- dehydration renders one USELESS and unable to perform, much less perform well. So, I hydrated. However, hydrating makes one have to use the restroom SO MUCH. Even at the expo the day before I had to hit the ladies room FOUR different times! So race morning I was hurting. There were porta-potties near the Swim Start, but the lines for them were astronomical. I broke down and went over there at 7:45am and waited for THIRTY MINUTES! I've never been so eager to get to a porta-potty. After waiting so long, I vowed that I wouldn't go back before I started. So I went back to waiting. About 30 minutes before my race I checked the gear I'd brought with me (flip flops, hoodie, extra cap and goggles, etc) and started to put my wetsuit on. Since returning from the porta potties, I'd been denying the fact I had to go again. By this time though I couldn't deny it any longer, I had to GO! But I refused-- if I did go at this point I would miss my start and that was not an option. So I waddled over to the line up which was right at the edge of the lake. Like cattle we went into our fenced area and moved closer when we were told. I must have looked like a kindergartner, because I was performing the "I GOTTA GO" dance. I was so overwhelmed by my nerves and my about-to-rupture bladder.. I just didn't know what to do with myself. When we were finally the next wave to go, I was near death, but managed to turn around and look at all the people watching. That helped ZERO. I also got a little sad-- so many people were there supporting their friends or family... huge signs and loud cheers for what seemed like EVERYONE. I was sad to not have someone there cheering for me in particular but then I remembered all the emails and text messages I'd received in the previous days/weeks/months offering more encouragement and motivation than I could have ever asked for. Before I knew it it was my turn to jump in the water. As soon as I did, I let loose-- I could not hold it anymore... and it's almost an expected thing for people to relieve themselves once in the water. I hate the excuse 'Well, everyone does it," but this time I have to use it. The last injury I expected to encounter on race day was a burst bladder. Somewhat relieved, I heard the countdown "5..4..3..2..1..BEEP!" Holy toledo. Imagine 150 people treading water. They're crowded in a small space in a vertical position. Now imagine 150 vertical people in a small space all suddenly and simultaneously shifting to a horizontal position and KICKING AND FLAPPING LIKE LUNATICS whilst doing so. I'd been warned, but nothing could have fully prepared me for the absolute MAYHEM that was the beginning of the swim. I'd decided to follow Herky-Jerky Hip Coach's advice and get to the start. I'm all about doing what it takes to get the best time possible. Being at the front meant I was amongst the crazies that think they're going to win the whole thing and will take out anyone who stands (or floats) in their way. I was kicked, slapped, and violated in many ways. I wanted to hop out of the lake, let them go and then start when no one was there. I decided to stick it out and just pray that I didn't take a blow to the face. I may have contributed at one point... I grabbed someone's ankle and pulled myself forward... hehe. For at least 400 yards people swam over me under me, tried to swim up my wetsuit. I have personal space issues to being with-- this really pushed them and me overboard. I was getting panicky and started wheezing. HELL NO. I REFUSE to have an asthma attack this early in the race! If a lifeguard has to assist you and pull you out, your race is over. I didn't work hard all summer to wuss out in the first five minutes. So I wheezed along and finally it thinned out a little. I got into a rhythm and swam the best I could given the conditions. I turned at the buoy, encountering more bodies and attack (as I've told a couple people already-- a whole new meaning to the breast stroke!!!). After the turn it was a straight shot to the swim finish. IT seemed to take forever. Once I got into my rhythm and what not I was passing people and feeling good. I couldn't hear my breathing anymore (always a plus) and I was using my sighting stroke to avoid swimming to Michigan. I was even passing people from the wave before me. I felt good, but I was ready for the swim to be over. Every now and then I'd come up to someone who was flailing about like a mad person and would fall victim to their spastic movements. I finally reached the finish wher
e it got very physical again-- people were determined to get OUT of that water and would not let me get in their way-- I got kicked in the HEAD at the swim finish! Seriously. The water along the swim was deep-- too deep to touch, so at the end they had steps that resembled bleachers to help the swimmers out. There were also volunteers to give us a hand as we regained our land legs. I am very grateful for those that pulled me up and out of the water. It would have been ugly without their steady hands! Out of the water I pulled down my wet suit and yanked off my cap and goggles. It was a quarter mile jog to transition which I was fine with, except it was on pavement and we were barefoot. That jog hurt my feet SO BADLY. I never even expected it to be that awful, but it was terrible and my feet STILL hurt-- I honestly think they're bruised. I looked so goofy limping along! I barely made it back to my bike and immediately socked and shoed my throbbing dogs. I threw on my helmet and hydration pack and was off to the 'Bike Out.' The bike was so much better than I thought it would be and I am so proud of the IRON HORSE! She did so great! (Shout out to ELEMENT MULTI SPORT for getting her ready for the race!) The bike leg took place on Lake Shore Drive. We went from transition (Lake Shore and Randolph) up to Foster Avenue and back-- TWICE. Winds were a bear coming from the north, so that part was AWFUL, but going south was much better. I am eternally grateful for the hydration pack my parents sent in their "Triathlon Survival Kit," as I would have been way too chicken to reach down for my water bottle! The hydration pack allowed me to drink as much as I wanted through an easily accessible straw. I'd filled it with Gatorade which was a good move since I sweat like a sweaty man and needed to replace those electrolytes if I wanted to finish the run leg that was coming up. The pot holes on Lake Shore are PAINFUL. Literally. With IH's new tires, there is much less cushion/tolerance for disturbances in the road's flat-ness. AND the "Drive" is much more hilly than I EVER gave it credit for. Yea, we're in the midwest, but holy cow, ther eare some significant inclines. I finished the bike and felt somewhat good about it-- the new tires on Iron Horse and her new ability to shift (still kinda shotty, but way better) made all the difference and cut 33 minutes off my time from when I'd practiced! It took me longer than I'd hoped to park my bike. I couldn't get it turned around the way it needed to be in order to get it up on the rack. Also, my neatly organized transition area had been torn to pieces by the other clowns who'd flown through. Obnoxiuos. Regardless, I parked IH, de-helmeted, de-hydration packed, clipped on my race belt and took off. Actually I waddled off. My legs were absolutely shot. They wouldn't move. AND I had to got to the bathroom again! No matter how I begged and pleaded with my legs, they were throwing a temper tantrum and compliance was not happening. I settled fo
r one foot in front of the other at a painfully slow pace for the fist half mile. Then I spotted porta-potties. I debated for maybe a milli-second: Should I stop and go? YES. I pulled over and did what I had to do. In hind-sight I'm really glad I did.. it would have been ugly trying to hold it for the next six miles. Even still, my legs were failing me. At mile 2 they came back for a couple of minutes and I thought "phew!" but by mile three there was nothing left within them. They were screaming at me and my kneeds threatened to buckle ANY SECOND. They sta right on the fence of being so painful they were numb-- but not quite yet. I gladly accepted fluids at each available opportunity except the first one. The first Gatorade I grabbed I tried to drink in the middle of running-- bad idea, I ended up with Gatorade everywhere but my mouth-- all over my face, sunglasses, shirt... and I was still thirsty. The next time I briefly paused and took it in like it was a shot, then kept going. At the next fluid table I took water and just dumped it on me which was so refreshing. People were lined up to cheer at the very beginning and thevery end of the run, but between mile 2 and 5 there was nothing, and that is when I needed it most. Those three miles were eerily quiet. I didnt' have my headphones to distract me and all I could hear was the panting and footsteps of my fellow runners. My lungs were fine because I was going SO PAINFULLY S
LOW, but my legs were just not functioning. Everything form my quads down BEGGED me to stop-- even just for a minute; walk, even, just take SOME sort of a break. I promised myself long ago that I would NOT walk any part of the run, so I refused to grant the wishes of my lower extremities. Somehow I ended up at mile 5 and people started cheering again and that raised my spirits a little bit. I could hear the cheers from the finish line, and spectators kept saying "Almost there! Keep going!" "OKAY!" I replied, somewhat delerious... At mile 6 I was so relieved. I was 0.2 miles from being done with my first triathlon. Bittersweet, to be honest. It's been such a journey up to this point, and crossing the finish line meant it'd be over. Don't worry, I didn't hesitate, I may have even sped up a little. A whole swell of emotions came up in that last stretch and I won't ever forget it.
Once across the finish line I was filled with relief. I could speak or even really walk straight. I aproached the Chip Clippers (volunteers who take on the sweaty task of clipping off the timing chips we strapped to our ankles) and had to convince my foot to go up on to the step. I sauntered forward rather aimlessly. My head was super foggy and I wanted to be more alert than I was but I needed some glucose in order to get there. Fortunately, I approached a Gatorade table and with a couple of swallows I started to come back. I then came up to the bagel and banana table and enthusiastically partook. At the end of the finish-line area I saw a man sprawled out on the ground, face up with his arms extended and eyes closed. Oh, Lord, I'm going to have to do CPR. "Sir, are you okay?" I asked. No response. Dangit. I nudged his toe with mine and he opened one eye looked me like I was the devil himself. "Are you okay, Sir???" I asked again. He nodded and so I accepted that, begging for any reason to avoid mouth to mouth, I'd left my face mask at home. I exited transition and continued to follow the masses. Eventually I decided I should have a destination. I decided to make my way back to the swim start so I could get the gear that I'd checked there-- including my phone, camera, and wallet... silly things like that. The bags were lined up along the lake in number order, but there was a two foot step down to get to them. I looked at the step and chuckeld. I was barely able to walk, much less make that jump. Fortunately, there was a nice young man that was there to help sad souls like me. I accepted his strong arm and proceeded to get my belongings, then accepted his strong arm again to get me back up. Small perks of being a triathlete, I guess. =) At transition, I found two of my good friends who had come to watch the festivities! It was SO GREAT to see familiar faces. Yea, I'd had the TNT family there supporting me along the way, but it was extra great to see people outside of the triathlon world there to say 'Congratuatlions.' We all walked to the El where I somehow found the strength to hoist Iron Horse up the 8,000 stairs and into the platform, then on to the El, then back downthe platform once at my stop. I slowly biked home, receiving odd stares along the way. I looked pretty rough at this point, no doubt and wasn't moving all too quickly.
So that is most of the race. I will write more on what has happened since later. I give you much credit and congratulations if you have made it this far.
The Triathlon. Oh boy.
It all started Saturday morning with the GIANT expo downtown. I was there for two and a half hours, getting
my packet and swim cap, looking at all the excessive accessories I could indulge in, and listening to the course talk. I finally tore myself away and headed back home. I stopped at Walgreen's on the way and bought 64 ounces of Gatorade, 5 Clif Bars (5 for $5-- I'm a sucker for a sale), waterproof mascara, and gum. So I scurried home with much more baggage than I left with (between the expo and Walgreen's, I was getting an extra lifting session in!). At my apartment I overtook the living room and spread out everything I'd need on race day. That included three swim caps, two swim suits, my race number and belt, wetsuit, two pairs of goggles, helmet, 'triathlon shorts,' TNT top and t-shirt (still hadn't decided which I'd wear..), bike tools, bike pack, hydration pack, shoes, flip flops, towel, three water bottles, Clif Bars, gum, change of clothes, and much more. Crazy! I soon realized it was time to go to th
e TNT Pasta Dinner that started at 6pm downtown. There, we ate buttery pasta and white bread while learning about our fundraising totals, the future goals of TNT, and heard one of our Teammate's personal battle with blood cancer. It was nice to have that time to be motivated by the fundraising numbers (over $300,000 by the Chicago team-- PHENOMENAL!!!) and to mentally prepare for the ensuing race. Admittedly, my mind was wandering-- I was trying to figure out how quickly I could get to bed! I left the pasta party around 8pm, got home by 9:15. There was still some l
ast minute preparing to do which included putting everything that was spread out on the floor in my bag and 
trying on all the spandex one last time to make sure it wasn't TOO appalling. I was SUPER nervous... but forced myself to believe that I was READY.So, I set my alarm for 2:00am (!!!) and prayed that I wouldn't oversleep. I woke up at 12:30 and was deliriously convinced it was 3:30am. OH NO! I AM SO LATE! I JUMPED out of bed (dangerous-- I have
a loft!) and started to get my things together. As I scurried to get my water bottles out of the freezer, I saw the time on the oven 12:34. You've got to be kidding me. I shuffled back to my bedroom both relieved and irritated. I did end up oversleeping, but only by 30 minutes. I'd prepared for this as I didn't really have to get up until 2:30. I nervously got ready then headed out. I'd originally planned to take the El downtown because I wanted to save my legs for the race. This made me nervous, though, because the El is under construction which screws everything up no matter how diligently one plans. I even asked the CTA worker on my way home from the pasta party what I could do to get downtown by 4am the following morning. He looked at me like I was nuts and then called someone and said I could take the Red Line. Doable. However, I just didn't trust it. So as I rode the Iron Horse to the nearest Red Line stop, I hesitated and ended up riding past it, halfway on purpose. I spontaneously decided to nix that plan and to just ride down to Transition. It was about a 6 mile ride, a perfect warm up. You may recall my whining about the popularity and crowded-ness of the Lake Front trail in the past, but I have found a solution to that: ride at 3:30 in the morning and it is EMPTY. It was one of the best rides I've ever had on that trail! There were a couple of people I noticed along the way who were still enjoying their Saturday night. One couple was even reproducing right there on the side of the trail-- gutsy. The trail is great until you get to Navy Pier, then it gets funny. At this point I saw someone else who looked Triathlon-bound and decided to follow them because I had no idea where to go. I watched as he followed a car that was closing the on ramp to Lake Shore Drive (as this is where the bike leg would be taking place). Since it was closed, the biker went up the on ramp. I decided to follow my fellow idiot in hopes it would get me to Transition in time. Well, just because the on ramp is closed doesn't mean all cars are off the highway! That was an adrenaline rush... if I wasn't quite awake yet, the sound of super speedy cars not far from me sure did the trick! Fortunately my daredevil leader got off at the next opportunity and we were spit out right at transition at 4:15am. Perfect timing. Phew.I put my number on my bike and helmet, strapped the timing chip on my ankle, and wheeled in to the mini-city also kno
wn as Transition. Holy canoli it was HUGE. To capture its enormity, one would need to be in an airplane. It was pitch black and people were rushing around like morons, convinced they'd win the race and everyone around them was some peon in their way. Psh. I was relieved to find the rack for my wave (46 of 54.. sick), and then to find some of my Teammates that were in my wave. We set our space up and then I walked the Transition area with one of them. We went from the 'Swim In' to our bikes, then to the 'Bike Out,' which was also the bike in. We then went back to our spot, then to the 'Run Out.' That was probably one of the best things I did, because had I not done it, I would have been painfully lost during the race! Walking it allowed me to be oriented 
within Transition and to find landmarks to look for during the race that would help me find my spot faster and be more efficient. We then ventured over to the swim start where we'd WAIT for FIVE HOURS!!! Wave 46 didn't start until 9:21am. PAINFUL. Despite our later start, we still had to arrive at 4:15am because transition closed at 5:45am and with 8,700 participants signed up, I didn't want to be one of the late comers trying to fight my way in amongst the masses at the last minute. The swim start was a good jaunt from Transition, and as we walked along the lake the sun was starting to rise. It was BEAUTIFUL. The sunrise alone would have made it worth it to wake up at 
2:30. 
We continued on like ants in a line. There were so many people there, I started to get uneasy. By the time we actually got to the start, the first wave was lining up. Even though I still had about three and a half hours until my start, I felt like I was late! The race was starting and I was JUST getting there!! I lined up with the spectators to watch them go. I really wanted to see how this 
whole swim start would go down-- I'd heard so many rumors of assault and pure mayhem. I soon s
aw, and would later experience, that they were not rumors, but fair warnings. After scaring myself even more so, I went to find the TNT 'spot' a few hundred yards from the Swim Start. Then I waited... for eternity. Essentially, everyone would have to wait on race day-- either for their wave to start (if you had a late start), or for transition to re-open (if you had an early start). I waited before I raced which would have been my last choice because I psych myself out before things like this. I psych myself out before I go running on my own if I'm given too much time to think about it much less the largest triathlon IN THE WORLD! So for the next three-ish hours I hydrated, ate a Clif Bar and an orange, and wre
stled with butterflies. At one point, herky-jerky hip coach came up to me and said: "For the swim, get in the second row. You're a strong swimmer and belong in the front. Hold your ground. If you stay in back, you'll spend the first couple hundred yards fighting through people." I looked at him quite puzzled... this was the man who told me that I was a pretty pathetic swimmer due to my lack of abdominal muscles (remember: "Do you do any ab work.. at all???"). So I said 'well, okay,' but was really thinking WHAT?! That ruined my whole plan! I was totally content hanging out in the back and letting the crazies beat each other up and disperse, then commence my race! I had zero plan of getting in there and swimming through people AND water! Shoot.Lets discuss hydrating: it is SO important in these things-- dehydration renders one USELESS and unable to perform, much less perform well. So, I hydrated. However, hydrating makes one have to use the restroom SO MUCH. Even at the expo the day before I had to hit the ladies room FOUR different times! So race morning I was hurting. There were porta-potties near the Swim Start, but the lines for them were astronomical. I broke down and went over there at 7:45am and waited for THIRTY MINUTES! I've never been so eager to get to a porta-potty. After waiting so long, I vowed that I wouldn't go back before I started. So I went back to waiting. About 30 minutes before my race I checked the gear I'd brought with me (flip flops, hoodie, extra cap and goggles, etc) and started to put my wetsuit on. Since returning from the porta potties, I'd been denying the fact I had to go again. By this time though I couldn't deny it any longer, I had to GO! But I refused-- if I did go at this point I would miss my start and that was not an option. So I waddled over to the line up which was right at the edge of the lake. Like cattle we went into our fenced area and moved closer when we were told. I must have looked like a kindergartner, because I was performing the "I GOTTA GO" dance. I was so overwhelmed by my nerves and my about-to-rupture bladder.. I just didn't know what to do with myself. When we were finally the next wave to go, I was near death, but managed to turn around and look at all the people watching. That helped ZERO. I also got a little sad-- so many people were there supporting their friends or family... huge signs and loud cheers for what seemed like EVERYONE. I was sad to not have someone there cheering for me in particular but then I remembered all the emails and text messages I'd received in the previous days/weeks/months offering more encouragement and motivation than I could have ever asked for. Before I knew it it was my turn to jump in the water. As soon as I did, I let loose-- I could not hold it anymore... and it's almost an expected thing for people to relieve themselves once in the water. I hate the excuse 'Well, everyone does it," but this time I have to use it. The last injury I expected to encounter on race day was a burst bladder. Somewhat relieved, I heard the countdown "5..4..3..2..1..BEEP!" Holy toledo. Imagine 150 people treading water. They're crowded in a small space in a vertical position. Now imagine 150 vertical people in a small space all suddenly and simultaneously shifting to a horizontal position and KICKING AND FLAPPING LIKE LUNATICS whilst doing so. I'd been warned, but nothing could have fully prepared me for the absolute MAYHEM that was the beginning of the swim. I'd decided to follow Herky-Jerky Hip Coach's advice and get to the start. I'm all about doing what it takes to get the best time possible. Being at the front meant I was amongst the crazies that think they're going to win the whole thing and will take out anyone who stands (or floats) in their way. I was kicked, slapped, and violated in many ways. I wanted to hop out of the lake, let them go and then start when no one was there. I decided to stick it out and just pray that I didn't take a blow to the face. I may have contributed at one point... I grabbed someone's ankle and pulled myself forward... hehe. For at least 400 yards people swam over me under me, tried to swim up my wetsuit. I have personal space issues to being with-- this really pushed them and me overboard. I was getting panicky and started wheezing. HELL NO. I REFUSE to have an asthma attack this early in the race! If a lifeguard has to assist you and pull you out, your race is over. I didn't work hard all summer to wuss out in the first five minutes. So I wheezed along and finally it thinned out a little. I got into a rhythm and swam the best I could given the conditions. I turned at the buoy, encountering more bodies and attack (as I've told a couple people already-- a whole new meaning to the breast stroke!!!). After the turn it was a straight shot to the swim finish. IT seemed to take forever. Once I got into my rhythm and what not I was passing people and feeling good. I couldn't hear my breathing anymore (always a plus) and I was using my sighting stroke to avoid swimming to Michigan. I was even passing people from the wave before me. I felt good, but I was ready for the swim to be over. Every now and then I'd come up to someone who was flailing about like a mad person and would fall victim to their spastic movements. I finally reached the finish wher
e it got very physical again-- people were determined to get OUT of that water and would not let me get in their way-- I got kicked in the HEAD at the swim finish! Seriously. The water along the swim was deep-- too deep to touch, so at the end they had steps that resembled bleachers to help the swimmers out. There were also volunteers to give us a hand as we regained our land legs. I am very grateful for those that pulled me up and out of the water. It would have been ugly without their steady hands! Out of the water I pulled down my wet suit and yanked off my cap and goggles. It was a quarter mile jog to transition which I was fine with, except it was on pavement and we were barefoot. That jog hurt my feet SO BADLY. I never even expected it to be that awful, but it was terrible and my feet STILL hurt-- I honestly think they're bruised. I looked so goofy limping along! I barely made it back to my bike and immediately socked and shoed my throbbing dogs. I threw on my helmet and hydration pack and was off to the 'Bike Out.' The bike was so much better than I thought it would be and I am so proud of the IRON HORSE! She did so great! (Shout out to ELEMENT MULTI SPORT for getting her ready for the race!) The bike leg took place on Lake Shore Drive. We went from transition (Lake Shore and Randolph) up to Foster Avenue and back-- TWICE. Winds were a bear coming from the north, so that part was AWFUL, but going south was much better. I am eternally grateful for the hydration pack my parents sent in their "Triathlon Survival Kit," as I would have been way too chicken to reach down for my water bottle! The hydration pack allowed me to drink as much as I wanted through an easily accessible straw. I'd filled it with Gatorade which was a good move since I sweat like a sweaty man and needed to replace those electrolytes if I wanted to finish the run leg that was coming up. The pot holes on Lake Shore are PAINFUL. Literally. With IH's new tires, there is much less cushion/tolerance for disturbances in the road's flat-ness. AND the "Drive" is much more hilly than I EVER gave it credit for. Yea, we're in the midwest, but holy cow, ther eare some significant inclines. I finished the bike and felt somewhat good about it-- the new tires on Iron Horse and her new ability to shift (still kinda shotty, but way better) made all the difference and cut 33 minutes off my time from when I'd practiced! It took me longer than I'd hoped to park my bike. I couldn't get it turned around the way it needed to be in order to get it up on the rack. Also, my neatly organized transition area had been torn to pieces by the other clowns who'd flown through. Obnoxiuos. Regardless, I parked IH, de-helmeted, de-hydration packed, clipped on my race belt and took off. Actually I waddled off. My legs were absolutely shot. They wouldn't move. AND I had to got to the bathroom again! No matter how I begged and pleaded with my legs, they were throwing a temper tantrum and compliance was not happening. I settled fo
r one foot in front of the other at a painfully slow pace for the fist half mile. Then I spotted porta-potties. I debated for maybe a milli-second: Should I stop and go? YES. I pulled over and did what I had to do. In hind-sight I'm really glad I did.. it would have been ugly trying to hold it for the next six miles. Even still, my legs were failing me. At mile 2 they came back for a couple of minutes and I thought "phew!" but by mile three there was nothing left within them. They were screaming at me and my kneeds threatened to buckle ANY SECOND. They sta right on the fence of being so painful they were numb-- but not quite yet. I gladly accepted fluids at each available opportunity except the first one. The first Gatorade I grabbed I tried to drink in the middle of running-- bad idea, I ended up with Gatorade everywhere but my mouth-- all over my face, sunglasses, shirt... and I was still thirsty. The next time I briefly paused and took it in like it was a shot, then kept going. At the next fluid table I took water and just dumped it on me which was so refreshing. People were lined up to cheer at the very beginning and thevery end of the run, but between mile 2 and 5 there was nothing, and that is when I needed it most. Those three miles were eerily quiet. I didnt' have my headphones to distract me and all I could hear was the panting and footsteps of my fellow runners. My lungs were fine because I was going SO PAINFULLY S
LOW, but my legs were just not functioning. Everything form my quads down BEGGED me to stop-- even just for a minute; walk, even, just take SOME sort of a break. I promised myself long ago that I would NOT walk any part of the run, so I refused to grant the wishes of my lower extremities. Somehow I ended up at mile 5 and people started cheering again and that raised my spirits a little bit. I could hear the cheers from the finish line, and spectators kept saying "Almost there! Keep going!" "OKAY!" I replied, somewhat delerious... At mile 6 I was so relieved. I was 0.2 miles from being done with my first triathlon. Bittersweet, to be honest. It's been such a journey up to this point, and crossing the finish line meant it'd be over. Don't worry, I didn't hesitate, I may have even sped up a little. A whole swell of emotions came up in that last stretch and I won't ever forget it.Once across the finish line I was filled with relief. I could speak or even really walk straight. I aproached the Chip Clippers (volunteers who take on the sweaty task of clipping off the timing chips we strapped to our ankles) and had to convince my foot to go up on to the step. I sauntered forward rather aimlessly. My head was super foggy and I wanted to be more alert than I was but I needed some glucose in order to get there. Fortunately, I approached a Gatorade table and with a couple of swallows I started to come back. I then came up to the bagel and banana table and enthusiastically partook. At the end of the finish-line area I saw a man sprawled out on the ground, face up with his arms extended and eyes closed. Oh, Lord, I'm going to have to do CPR. "Sir, are you okay?" I asked. No response. Dangit. I nudged his toe with mine and he opened one eye looked me like I was the devil himself. "Are you okay, Sir???" I asked again. He nodded and so I accepted that, begging for any reason to avoid mouth to mouth, I'd left my face mask at home. I exited transition and continued to follow the masses. Eventually I decided I should have a destination. I decided to make my way back to the swim start so I could get the gear that I'd checked there-- including my phone, camera, and wallet... silly things like that. The bags were lined up along the lake in number order, but there was a two foot step down to get to them. I looked at the step and chuckeld. I was barely able to walk, much less make that jump. Fortunately, there was a nice young man that was there to help sad souls like me. I accepted his strong arm and proceeded to get my belongings, then accepted his strong arm again to get me back up. Small perks of being a triathlete, I guess. =) At transition, I found two of my good friends who had come to watch the festivities! It was SO GREAT to see familiar faces. Yea, I'd had the TNT family there supporting me along the way, but it was extra great to see people outside of the triathlon world there to say 'Congratuatlions.' We all walked to the El where I somehow found the strength to hoist Iron Horse up the 8,000 stairs and into the platform, then on to the El, then back downthe platform once at my stop. I slowly biked home, receiving odd stares along the way. I looked pretty rough at this point, no doubt and wasn't moving all too quickly.
So that is most of the race. I will write more on what has happened since later. I give you much credit and congratulations if you have made it this far.
Saturday, August 23, 2008
...gulp
HOLY HUGE EXPO. Spread out over THREE LEVELS of the Chicago Hilton on Michigan Avenue, the expo drove the point that this event is not monkey business. I stayed for two and a half HOURS. My day of preparation just got cut down significantly! Then why is she BLOGGING of all things? You ask-- just to say
HOLY TOLEDO IT'S TOMORROW! (dry heave)
Bib Number: 8100
Wave Number: 46
Start Time: 9:21am (still have to be there at 4:00am!!!)
HOLY TOLEDO IT'S TOMORROW! (dry heave)
Bib Number: 8100
Wave Number: 46
Start Time: 9:21am (still have to be there at 4:00am!!!)
Friday, August 22, 2008
She LIVES!
After mourning the loss of the Iron Horse for four days that could have been mistaken for eternity, I got the call. "Your bike is ready to be picked up, we're here till 7." I worked that day, so I wasn't able to get to the bike shop until 4:45 in the afternoon. It was a 1.7 mile trek from the hospital, which was a mere hop, skip, and a jump compared to the by-foot ventures I'd made over the previous four days. When I got there, the man I'd spoken with when I dropped her off wasn't there, which was probably good, sometimes I can be emotional at the end of a day. They wheeled her out and propped her against the counter (she lacks a kickstand.) I looked her over-- only one thing was obviously different: her tires. They were no longer the knobby and obese mountain bike tires. She now sported sleek and firm tires that honestly made her look like she'd been on a crash diet. Even in her sickly appearance, she was alive. I paid the fine establishment (and it GENUINELY is a fine establishment that provides fantastic services for triathletes, I recommend it highly) and left. Out on the sidewalk I dug my helmet out of my backpack and got ready to try and ride the waif home. I didn't care how weird she looked, I refused to not only walk home again, but I refused to walk my BIKE home-- veto. To my surprise she rode rather smoothly. First thing I noticed was that she was in a crazy easy gear-- my legs were spinning OUT OF CONTROL, so I thought "SHOOT! I have to shift and this hunk of metal doesn't shift!" I tried anyways-- I was quickly losing my balance and a fall would just twist the jagged rusty dagger that was already in my heart after this whole bike ordeal. Lo and behold--- she shifted!! I was beaming! Perhaps my bike just might work! Perhaps she would get me through the triathlon in a somewhat efficient fashion! My hopes rising, I pedaled home with jaw-dropping ease. No longer were my chunky tires gripping the pavement, refusing to let go until I pedaled as hard as possible. Now, I was almost floating over the road, pedaling with EASE. I shifted up higher than I usually ride at and was CRUISING, keeping up with cars (...so what if it was rush hour grid-lock...) and rejoicing in the resurrection of my loyal steed. I don't think I can honestly say that I am confident in IH to help me ride the absolute best bike leg I could possibly ride in the race, but I feel so much better about it now than I did before. Her gears slipped once on that ride home, which made me want to burst into tears, but once compared to every turn of the petal is a phenomenal improvement. I'm not as worried that she will completely stop working a couple of miles into the bike leg, forcing me to finish it running with her (you don't have to ride your bike in the bike leg--- you just have to have it WITH you... so if she did break or something, I could keep going. But let's be honest, it's a 24.8 miles bike and that's a long way to run even without a bike, much less with my awkward one-- and especially when there's still the run leg afterwards!!!)
Speaking of the race... it is in two days. Less than that really. HOLY TOLEDO! I may be flipping out. I feel SO unprepared!! Tomorrow I will go to the expo downtown to pick up my race packet and everything. Then tomorrow evening is the Team in Training pasta party. There is going to be a lot of travel between downtown and my apartment. Saturday downtown early to get my packet then back home to get ready for the race, then down and back again that evening for the Team in Training pasta party that we were told will "change our lives." It's hard to skip something with that promise! Then I'll venture down crazy early Sunday morning for the race (!!!) and back afterwards. Sunday evening I'll go back down AGAIN for the Team in Training after-race party! I'm exhausted just THINKING about it! I wish I knew someone who lived closer to downtown that I could stay with or something, but I don't. It'd probably be more of a hassle than it'd worth anyways. I have to remember to load up my transportation card though!! I don't go downtown more than twice a week, much less twice a day for two days straight! It'll be exciting, no doubt.
I cannot believe race weekend is here. I don't have any words for the feeling that is brewing and growing in the pit of my stomach. I feel utterly unprepared and nervous. I know I've been working out all summer, but it's funny how those workouts fade away and I only remember the workout I skipped or modified because 'I don't feel like biking today...' or 'I'd rather run on the treadmill where it's air conditioned...' Regardless of my training sins, I know this will be a very memorable experience and as nervous as I am, I am almost equally excited.
If you want to follow the progress of the race and are unable to attend, the race website is very spectator friendly in the sense that you can like check the progress of any athlete, and I think you can even get text message alerts... that kinda weirds me out. But, if you are in the city and looking for something to do on Sunday morning, I encourage you to come down and watch the festivities. It will be a huge event, 8,500 participants are expected (or so I'm told), and the course is made to be spectator friendly. There is a spectator guide on the website as well.
1 days, 21 hours, 4 minutes, and 44 seconds left until the 2008 Accenture Chicago Triathlon... but who's counting?
Speaking of the race... it is in two days. Less than that really. HOLY TOLEDO! I may be flipping out. I feel SO unprepared!! Tomorrow I will go to the expo downtown to pick up my race packet and everything. Then tomorrow evening is the Team in Training pasta party. There is going to be a lot of travel between downtown and my apartment. Saturday downtown early to get my packet then back home to get ready for the race, then down and back again that evening for the Team in Training pasta party that we were told will "change our lives." It's hard to skip something with that promise! Then I'll venture down crazy early Sunday morning for the race (!!!) and back afterwards. Sunday evening I'll go back down AGAIN for the Team in Training after-race party! I'm exhausted just THINKING about it! I wish I knew someone who lived closer to downtown that I could stay with or something, but I don't. It'd probably be more of a hassle than it'd worth anyways. I have to remember to load up my transportation card though!! I don't go downtown more than twice a week, much less twice a day for two days straight! It'll be exciting, no doubt.
I cannot believe race weekend is here. I don't have any words for the feeling that is brewing and growing in the pit of my stomach. I feel utterly unprepared and nervous. I know I've been working out all summer, but it's funny how those workouts fade away and I only remember the workout I skipped or modified because 'I don't feel like biking today...' or 'I'd rather run on the treadmill where it's air conditioned...' Regardless of my training sins, I know this will be a very memorable experience and as nervous as I am, I am almost equally excited.
If you want to follow the progress of the race and are unable to attend, the race website is very spectator friendly in the sense that you can like check the progress of any athlete, and I think you can even get text message alerts... that kinda weirds me out. But, if you are in the city and looking for something to do on Sunday morning, I encourage you to come down and watch the festivities. It will be a huge event, 8,500 participants are expected (or so I'm told), and the course is made to be spectator friendly. There is a spectator guide on the website as well.
1 days, 21 hours, 4 minutes, and 44 seconds left until the 2008 Accenture Chicago Triathlon... but who's counting?
Monday, August 18, 2008
The Iron Horse Has Fallen
Last Friday I 'rode' the Iron Horse to Element Multi Sport, a triathlon store run by Team in Training coaches and participants. The whole way the gears slipped making life very interesting on busy roads during rush hour. Lo and behold, I made it to the store only having to get off and walk at one major incline due to the poor girl's complete inability to conquer a hill. I took her in the shop and was greeted with "You're the one who swam a mile out!" My goodness, I can't escape that small mistake, shoot! When I told them why I was there they said "okay hold on." They called for someone in the back and told me to take my bike to him when he came out. Seconds later he appeared looking like he'd smelled something foul. I saw his face as his eyes wandered upon IH and his already disgusted look multiplied ten fold. I grabbed hold of my baby and shot him a death stare. I explained that I am competing in the triathlon and that I know Iron Horse isn't the ideal racing bike, but she's all I got and a mountain bike is better than no bike. He rolled his eyes and said "Let me take her to the back and take a look." I met his gaze for a second trying to telepathically tell him that if he didn't respect my bike the same way he respected any fancy tri bike, I'd do something drastic. No doubt I looked like a loon with some syndrome as he gave me a puzzled look as he reached for the handle bars which my white knuckles were reluctant to give up. As he wheeled her back she squeaked a little-- crying no doubt. I felt like a mother watching her only child being wheeled back to surgery. Torturous.
An eternal six minutes and forty three seconds later he waved me back to break the news. "Well, somethings work okay and somethings really don't." Profound. "The brakes are really bad and this (insert big bad bike term here) is really out of alignment for some reason." Whatever it was I am sure its issues are a direct result of getting doored. Grr. So originally I'd thought that I'd take her in, they'd tinker around and work some magic, then I'd ride her home-- no problem. I was wrong. "We'll need to keep it 'til... Monday night." (silence) "....oh." So after telling me how much it would all cost (vomit-worthy... restoring a bike to get me through this race is more than the original entry fee... that's outta control) I walked home. A long, depressing walk. However, once again, my mom saved the day as I called and chatted for a majority of it. I'm super nervous to get IH back. When I told the guy my main concern (the slipping gears... it just made forward movement next to impossible which is not conducive to a positive triathlon experience...) he said "....yea.... that's probably because of this alignment thing... it should be better if I can knock it back." I have no doubt that this man knows bikes better than I know anything and is probably pretty talented at restoring them. But his diagnoses and plans of attack were less than comforting to me, the mother. So we'll see. I was supposed to go get her today, but they called saying it needs another day. What does that mean?! Killing me!
So this weekend I have been without my main mode of transportation. It's been brutal walking everywhere. But good at the same time, I guess. I've also been running outside more, and leaving my headphones at home. As you may recall, headphones are not allowed during the race because of some safety issue (which I can understand for the bike leg, but I don't see how they're a safety hazard for the run... just my opinion). So it's been interesting to adapt. Saturday I ran with a friend from out of town who was here visiting and her friend that lives in Chicago. We went very slow and went 7 miles. We got back to starting point and then me and out-of-town decided we wanted more of a cardio workout, so we ran back to my place. 3.22 miles later we were like 'holy cow are we there yet?!' We ended up pulling the plug, getting Gatorade and water and hopping on the el. No matter how slow they were, we went over ten miles which probably didn't hurt anything. Yesterday I ran 6 miles along the lake. I wish that my outdoor pace was equal to my treadmill pace. The whole time I'm running outside I am thinking "I know I can go faster than this on the treadmill-- why can't I pick it up now?" Honestly-- it perplexes me. But both times I ran during the hottest part of the day which was brutal, but it will be good on race day when I'm roasting to be somewhat used to it already... right? Today I lifted and did a quick three miles on the treadmill to remind me that I can run faster than what I did this weekend. I'm on my way to look at an apartment, and I'm going to run there-- I have to, my bike is still in the shop. It feels good to get some legit miles in again. I don't know what happened these past couple of weeks, but it felt like I was always at work-- the hospital or the gym-- or doing this or that or something nuts-o. I work at the hospital for the next four days straight, so we'll see if I drop of the face of the world of exercise again or not. The schedule says we're supposed to be tapering, but ... I think I exhausted my taper last week.
On a final note, I received such a wonderful package in the mail today! My parents sent me a 'Triathlon Survival Kit' complete with a Camel Back Hydration Pack (!!!) a bike bag, a super great Gatorade water bottle, Gu, an extra swim cap, a nose plug, ball needles (which was a mistake, but a GREAT one because I really need some!), and many more goodies. I knew my mom had sent the water bottle, but everything else was a surprise. I'm very grateful-- and excited to sport all my new cool stuff!
Pray for the Iron Horse!!!!
An eternal six minutes and forty three seconds later he waved me back to break the news. "Well, somethings work okay and somethings really don't." Profound. "The brakes are really bad and this (insert big bad bike term here) is really out of alignment for some reason." Whatever it was I am sure its issues are a direct result of getting doored. Grr. So originally I'd thought that I'd take her in, they'd tinker around and work some magic, then I'd ride her home-- no problem. I was wrong. "We'll need to keep it 'til... Monday night." (silence) "....oh." So after telling me how much it would all cost (vomit-worthy... restoring a bike to get me through this race is more than the original entry fee... that's outta control) I walked home. A long, depressing walk. However, once again, my mom saved the day as I called and chatted for a majority of it. I'm super nervous to get IH back. When I told the guy my main concern (the slipping gears... it just made forward movement next to impossible which is not conducive to a positive triathlon experience...) he said "....yea.... that's probably because of this alignment thing... it should be better if I can knock it back." I have no doubt that this man knows bikes better than I know anything and is probably pretty talented at restoring them. But his diagnoses and plans of attack were less than comforting to me, the mother. So we'll see. I was supposed to go get her today, but they called saying it needs another day. What does that mean?! Killing me!
So this weekend I have been without my main mode of transportation. It's been brutal walking everywhere. But good at the same time, I guess. I've also been running outside more, and leaving my headphones at home. As you may recall, headphones are not allowed during the race because of some safety issue (which I can understand for the bike leg, but I don't see how they're a safety hazard for the run... just my opinion). So it's been interesting to adapt. Saturday I ran with a friend from out of town who was here visiting and her friend that lives in Chicago. We went very slow and went 7 miles. We got back to starting point and then me and out-of-town decided we wanted more of a cardio workout, so we ran back to my place. 3.22 miles later we were like 'holy cow are we there yet?!' We ended up pulling the plug, getting Gatorade and water and hopping on the el. No matter how slow they were, we went over ten miles which probably didn't hurt anything. Yesterday I ran 6 miles along the lake. I wish that my outdoor pace was equal to my treadmill pace. The whole time I'm running outside I am thinking "I know I can go faster than this on the treadmill-- why can't I pick it up now?" Honestly-- it perplexes me. But both times I ran during the hottest part of the day which was brutal, but it will be good on race day when I'm roasting to be somewhat used to it already... right? Today I lifted and did a quick three miles on the treadmill to remind me that I can run faster than what I did this weekend. I'm on my way to look at an apartment, and I'm going to run there-- I have to, my bike is still in the shop. It feels good to get some legit miles in again. I don't know what happened these past couple of weeks, but it felt like I was always at work-- the hospital or the gym-- or doing this or that or something nuts-o. I work at the hospital for the next four days straight, so we'll see if I drop of the face of the world of exercise again or not. The schedule says we're supposed to be tapering, but ... I think I exhausted my taper last week.
On a final note, I received such a wonderful package in the mail today! My parents sent me a 'Triathlon Survival Kit' complete with a Camel Back Hydration Pack (!!!) a bike bag, a super great Gatorade water bottle, Gu, an extra swim cap, a nose plug, ball needles (which was a mistake, but a GREAT one because I really need some!), and many more goodies. I knew my mom had sent the water bottle, but everything else was a surprise. I'm very grateful-- and excited to sport all my new cool stuff!
Pray for the Iron Horse!!!!
Friday, August 15, 2008
8 days?! Yikes.
Last night was our race prep clinic. It was super informative and a little overwhelming. When we walked in, we received a large envelope that had a couple of packets of information in them, along with our Team in Training 'top.' It's a tight spandex-esque purple and green top that we're encouraged to wear on race day. I'm not going to lie, I'm probably not going to go that route... spandex shorts was one thing, but a spandex top, too? Honestly. I'm pretty content with the dri-fit TNT shirt that I've been sporting. I like to represent Team in Training in these events not only because it's a fantastic organization on so many levels, but also because whenever anyone who knows about TNT sees someone else wearing their gear, it's almost instinctive to shout "Go Team!" Honestly, I've been running alone and wearing a TNT shirt and am serenaded with "Go Team!'s" the whole time, it's fantastic.
So at the clinic they kind of told us what to expect/do from this point all the way through the end of the race. Like, don't try new spicy foods until the race is over, get a lot of sleep this week and continue to hydrate well, FIX YOUR BIKE, get sleep Friday night because you'll be too nervous to sleep well on Saturday... etc. They talked about the race and how it will go from when we arrive (AT 4AM!!!) all the way through the end. I think that was the most daunting part. Until recently, the actual race has kinda been this mystical thing that was far away, so there was no point in getting too worked up over it. But, now it's eight days away. As they told us about the race step by step, I was forced to picture myself competing in it and it made my stomach knot. I think I become my biggest weakness in these things-- I get so nervous and worked up that it unfortunately takes away from not only me achieving my potential, but also from taking in the whole experience. But how can you NOT get worked up over the world's largest triathlon??? Especially when it's your FIRST?!?! Oy.
When they were talking about the swim leg, they made sure to remind people to do the "sighting stroke" (looking up every 8-10 strokes), then said "...just ask our wayward swimmer, right Kristin???" Ugh! All in good fun, yea yea yea. Then the room erupted in laughter (okay maybe it was an appropriately volumed chuckle...) and the people I was sitting near kept saying "you're never going to live that down." Aye carumba. What can ya do?
So today after work/working out, I'm hoping to make it to a bike shop in time to get some TLC for the Iron Horse. She is shot. I have to ride her to work when I work at the gym (it's 2 miles... a super long walk and an unjustified bus ride), but even that short two miles makes me nervous. I'll ride the 4 miles to Element Multi Sport which is a triathlon store that is run by Team in Training coaches and participants. I've been told that they will 'take care of me.' So we'll see what that means. Hopefully it doesn't mean I'll go bankrupt, I haven't much to spend. Wish me luck, though, and pray that I don't end up stranded on the side of some busy road.
So at the clinic they kind of told us what to expect/do from this point all the way through the end of the race. Like, don't try new spicy foods until the race is over, get a lot of sleep this week and continue to hydrate well, FIX YOUR BIKE, get sleep Friday night because you'll be too nervous to sleep well on Saturday... etc. They talked about the race and how it will go from when we arrive (AT 4AM!!!) all the way through the end. I think that was the most daunting part. Until recently, the actual race has kinda been this mystical thing that was far away, so there was no point in getting too worked up over it. But, now it's eight days away. As they told us about the race step by step, I was forced to picture myself competing in it and it made my stomach knot. I think I become my biggest weakness in these things-- I get so nervous and worked up that it unfortunately takes away from not only me achieving my potential, but also from taking in the whole experience. But how can you NOT get worked up over the world's largest triathlon??? Especially when it's your FIRST?!?! Oy.
When they were talking about the swim leg, they made sure to remind people to do the "sighting stroke" (looking up every 8-10 strokes), then said "...just ask our wayward swimmer, right Kristin???" Ugh! All in good fun, yea yea yea. Then the room erupted in laughter (okay maybe it was an appropriately volumed chuckle...) and the people I was sitting near kept saying "you're never going to live that down." Aye carumba. What can ya do?
So today after work/working out, I'm hoping to make it to a bike shop in time to get some TLC for the Iron Horse. She is shot. I have to ride her to work when I work at the gym (it's 2 miles... a super long walk and an unjustified bus ride), but even that short two miles makes me nervous. I'll ride the 4 miles to Element Multi Sport which is a triathlon store that is run by Team in Training coaches and participants. I've been told that they will 'take care of me.' So we'll see what that means. Hopefully it doesn't mean I'll go bankrupt, I haven't much to spend. Wish me luck, though, and pray that I don't end up stranded on the side of some busy road.
Thursday, August 14, 2008
Swimming Shenanigans
With the triathlon less than TWO WEEKS away (eek!), training is slowly starting to taper. Last night was a group swim in the lake. We were to do a mile, which is the distance of the swim leg in the race. I raced home from work, packed my bag and Iron Horsed my way down to the beach and started the swim, enthusiastically of course.
I actually did feel pretty good in the water. I'm some what used to my wetsuit (at least to the point where I don't go into sheer panic because it pushes on my trachea), and the waves at this beach pale in comparison to those at the practice tri a couple weeks ago. I've slowly learned how to deal with the slow rolls of the water and block out thoughts of people flushing their undesired pet alligators and sharks down their toilets to have them end up in Lake Michigan where they silently grow to enormous size due to all the chemical waste it the lake, then eat innocent triathletes from Oregon. =)
So I was cruising. I felt powerful, I was focused on my form and for once I felt good about swimming again. Then a little voice popped in my head: The second you get confident, something goes terribly wrong. But I swam on. No nonsense-- I have a race to prepare for. After awhile of swimming in a Phelps-esque manner, I noticed as I took a breath a LARGE boat super close to me. That's funny, boats don't usually get this close to the shore... So I stopped and looked up. I couldn't see anything, my goggles were foggy and mascara laden (new item to triathlon list: WATERPROOF mascara...). So I tried to stand up-- we should be able to stand when swimming at this beach-- it's like 4 feet deep. I couldn't touch. First pinch of panic. I treaded water and pulled my goggles to my forehead. I couldn't see the shore! I kinda chuckled to myself, not wanting to admit that this was rather panic-worthy. I decided to swim diagonally towards the shore so I could make my way back, but still get to the turnaround point-- no one likes the person that turns around early. So I swam what I thought to be the right direction for about five more minutes then paused to check my progress. I could see the shore which was super encouraging, however, it was spoiled by the fact that the sky-scrapers looked like monopoly hotels and I could barely make out people along the shore. As I treaded water trying to figure out how in the world I got so off track I heard a very faint "HEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEYYYYYYYYYYY!!!!!!!!!!!!! COOOOOOOOOOOOOOMMMMMMMMEEEEEEEEEEE BAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAACCCKKKK!!!!!!!!! I was taught to do as I'm told, so this time I decided to point myself directly towards the shore and swim towards it-- none of this diagonal business. I could feel myself getting panicky; I couldn't touch the bottom, I had no intentions of being where I was in the water, and every now and them some grass or something would grab at my arm or ankles. But I consciously said to myself 'The more panicked you get the worse this is going to be, figure it out.' So I forced myself to be calm and just kept swimming. It took a solid fifteen minutes to get to the point where I could clearly see the people who were shouting at me to come back. "WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!?!?!" they yelled. "...I don't know.." I responded. What do you say to that? I'm swimming you nutcase. My scenic route was hardly intentional. I think they thought I'd flown off the deep end and decided to swim away from life into the depths of Lake Michigan. Uhh no thank you. My life is pretty fantastic and even if it were awful to the point of no return, I would rather live in its awfulness than fall to the disgusting-ness of that body of water. Sick. Anyways-- I know they were just concerned. I was way too close to huge boats, and that is dangerous. So I'd gone a little beyond the turn around point, so I just swam back with some people who were still swimming. This time, I made sure to look up every 8 to 10 strokes. Boo. I HATE looking up, it absolutely kills my momentum. That Tarzan drill we did in the pool was for a reason though...shoot. So the swim back was inefficient and embarrassing because if I do anything worse than swimming in a straight line, it's swimming with my head out of the water every once in a while. I finally made it to the end and physically felt surprisingly good. I really do enjoy distance swimming-- you can block out everything around and just be. It's refreshing, really. But I was SO embarrassed! And honestly I was annoyed because I had wanted to gauge how I'd feel after the swim leg in the race based on this swim, but I couldn't now-- I went significantly farther than one mile. If we're going to be honest, I wanted a re-do. I obviously had somethings to work on still! Herky-jerky hip coach (of course) was there as I climbed the ladder up to the bank with an expression of "What was that stunt about?!" on his face. I just shrugged my shoulders and kinda said 'whoops.' He then informed my that they'd sent a lifeguard out when they realized how far out I was and that I was oblivious to my mistake. However, said lifeguard GAVE UP. (wtf?!) So I received a deserved lecture about how necessary it is to look up when I am swimming and that it is very dangerous to be out that far where so many boats are and how I am so lucky it wasn't a nicer day because there'd be so many MORE boats.... on and on and on. Like I said-- deserved. I returned to where most of the group was de-wetsuiting and packing their bags. There was a buzz of 'who was that so far out?' 'who'd they send the guard after?' I was actually remarkably calm about it. As I've thought about it, I think this episode would definitely be worthy of significant emotional upset and a possible breakdown episode due to sheer embarrassment and duel with death. But I was able to chuckle about it and say "..yep, that was me" and not get too worked up. Gotta hold tight to those small victories.
Lesson learned: look up when you swim. Won't forget that one anytime soon.
Tonight is a race-prep clinic at a bike shop downtown. I'd originally planned to Iron Horse it there, but she's hurting. Her gears are getting funkier and funkier and I really think I need to let her rest until the big day. This is upsetting, as there are still ten days and I don't feel good about taking a bike sabbatical until the 24th. So we'll see. I'll take the El today and figure out how to train without pushing her over the edge later. If you're a praying person though, talk for a minute with the Big Guy about helping ol' IH push through the end of this race. Some divine intervention is going to be essential in pulling the off the bike leg-- that is... if I don't swim away first.
I actually did feel pretty good in the water. I'm some what used to my wetsuit (at least to the point where I don't go into sheer panic because it pushes on my trachea), and the waves at this beach pale in comparison to those at the practice tri a couple weeks ago. I've slowly learned how to deal with the slow rolls of the water and block out thoughts of people flushing their undesired pet alligators and sharks down their toilets to have them end up in Lake Michigan where they silently grow to enormous size due to all the chemical waste it the lake, then eat innocent triathletes from Oregon. =)
So I was cruising. I felt powerful, I was focused on my form and for once I felt good about swimming again. Then a little voice popped in my head: The second you get confident, something goes terribly wrong. But I swam on. No nonsense-- I have a race to prepare for. After awhile of swimming in a Phelps-esque manner, I noticed as I took a breath a LARGE boat super close to me. That's funny, boats don't usually get this close to the shore... So I stopped and looked up. I couldn't see anything, my goggles were foggy and mascara laden (new item to triathlon list: WATERPROOF mascara...). So I tried to stand up-- we should be able to stand when swimming at this beach-- it's like 4 feet deep. I couldn't touch. First pinch of panic. I treaded water and pulled my goggles to my forehead. I couldn't see the shore! I kinda chuckled to myself, not wanting to admit that this was rather panic-worthy. I decided to swim diagonally towards the shore so I could make my way back, but still get to the turnaround point-- no one likes the person that turns around early. So I swam what I thought to be the right direction for about five more minutes then paused to check my progress. I could see the shore which was super encouraging, however, it was spoiled by the fact that the sky-scrapers looked like monopoly hotels and I could barely make out people along the shore. As I treaded water trying to figure out how in the world I got so off track I heard a very faint "HEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEYYYYYYYYYYY!!!!!!!!!!!!! COOOOOOOOOOOOOOMMMMMMMMEEEEEEEEEEE BAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAACCCKKKK!!!!!!!!! I was taught to do as I'm told, so this time I decided to point myself directly towards the shore and swim towards it-- none of this diagonal business. I could feel myself getting panicky; I couldn't touch the bottom, I had no intentions of being where I was in the water, and every now and them some grass or something would grab at my arm or ankles. But I consciously said to myself 'The more panicked you get the worse this is going to be, figure it out.' So I forced myself to be calm and just kept swimming. It took a solid fifteen minutes to get to the point where I could clearly see the people who were shouting at me to come back. "WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!?!?!" they yelled. "...I don't know.." I responded. What do you say to that? I'm swimming you nutcase. My scenic route was hardly intentional. I think they thought I'd flown off the deep end and decided to swim away from life into the depths of Lake Michigan. Uhh no thank you. My life is pretty fantastic and even if it were awful to the point of no return, I would rather live in its awfulness than fall to the disgusting-ness of that body of water. Sick. Anyways-- I know they were just concerned. I was way too close to huge boats, and that is dangerous. So I'd gone a little beyond the turn around point, so I just swam back with some people who were still swimming. This time, I made sure to look up every 8 to 10 strokes. Boo. I HATE looking up, it absolutely kills my momentum. That Tarzan drill we did in the pool was for a reason though...shoot. So the swim back was inefficient and embarrassing because if I do anything worse than swimming in a straight line, it's swimming with my head out of the water every once in a while. I finally made it to the end and physically felt surprisingly good. I really do enjoy distance swimming-- you can block out everything around and just be. It's refreshing, really. But I was SO embarrassed! And honestly I was annoyed because I had wanted to gauge how I'd feel after the swim leg in the race based on this swim, but I couldn't now-- I went significantly farther than one mile. If we're going to be honest, I wanted a re-do. I obviously had somethings to work on still! Herky-jerky hip coach (of course) was there as I climbed the ladder up to the bank with an expression of "What was that stunt about?!" on his face. I just shrugged my shoulders and kinda said 'whoops.' He then informed my that they'd sent a lifeguard out when they realized how far out I was and that I was oblivious to my mistake. However, said lifeguard GAVE UP. (wtf?!) So I received a deserved lecture about how necessary it is to look up when I am swimming and that it is very dangerous to be out that far where so many boats are and how I am so lucky it wasn't a nicer day because there'd be so many MORE boats.... on and on and on. Like I said-- deserved. I returned to where most of the group was de-wetsuiting and packing their bags. There was a buzz of 'who was that so far out?' 'who'd they send the guard after?' I was actually remarkably calm about it. As I've thought about it, I think this episode would definitely be worthy of significant emotional upset and a possible breakdown episode due to sheer embarrassment and duel with death. But I was able to chuckle about it and say "..yep, that was me" and not get too worked up. Gotta hold tight to those small victories.
Lesson learned: look up when you swim. Won't forget that one anytime soon.
Tonight is a race-prep clinic at a bike shop downtown. I'd originally planned to Iron Horse it there, but she's hurting. Her gears are getting funkier and funkier and I really think I need to let her rest until the big day. This is upsetting, as there are still ten days and I don't feel good about taking a bike sabbatical until the 24th. So we'll see. I'll take the El today and figure out how to train without pushing her over the edge later. If you're a praying person though, talk for a minute with the Big Guy about helping ol' IH push through the end of this race. Some divine intervention is going to be essential in pulling the off the bike leg-- that is... if I don't swim away first.
Wednesday, August 6, 2008
Give Me Electricity or Give Me Death!
Holy power outage! There was a crazy huge storm Monday evening that rendered my poor block without power for thirty six grueling hours. Lesson learned-- the Amish life is not for me.
The brick workout on Sunday was a bear, but honestly better than I thought it would be. I didn't feel like I could go forever, but I didn't feel like I was going to keel over, either. I biked 25 miles in the two hours and ran six in the 45 minutes-- essentially the distances of the actual race! It felt really good to DO them-- now I know that it is a possibility, as long as nothing exciting goes down with the swim!
I was pretty tuckered out Sunday evening, though, then worked a thrilling twelve hour shift Monday. So, I decided to take Monday off of training for two reasons: 1) I was exhausted, and 2) as I walked home from the train, the insane storm hit and tornado sirens sung me home. I think had I gone out for a run at that point, I would have crossed the line of 'hardcore' into pure stupidity. When I realized there was no power when I finally (barely) made it home I just went straight to bed-- had to get up early for work again in the morning. When I did wake up, there was still no power. When I got home-- still no power!! I get SO CRANKY when there's no power! Woke up again this morning and still-- NO POWER! Finally at like 10:30 this morning the electricity gods (aka ComEd) shined upon my building and restored life to all appliances and lights.
Tonight we had a track workout that I honestly had to motivate myself to get to. Again, had it not been for the group of people I was training with, I probably would have bailed! All in all I am glad I went but wish that I didn't need such frequent attitude adjustments and mental motivational sessions. We started with a ten minute warm up jog. Then did 4x100 'build ups' where you build up speed for 100m, then jog 100, build up 100, jog 100, until you've built up four times. Then we did 2x200 sprints with a 200 recovery in between. So we'd sprint a 200 then recover 2000, sprint a 200 then recover a 200. THEN-- 400 (1 lap) 'fast' with a 400 recovery. THEN-- 800 'fast' with a 400 recovery. We ended with another 4x100 build up and a 1x200 sprint and frosted the cake with a 10 minute cool down. Speed has never been my forte so this wasn't my favorite workout, but I was glad that it was shorter sets because as soon as I'd get in the mindset of 'this blows' it'd be over and we'd start a new one. So it worked out.
Afterwards I went to the grocery store to replace my produce that spoiled with the lack of power. Grr!
The fundraising deadline was Monday. My Microbiology professor, a friend from college who's dad passed away from cancer, and my dad's boss are the most recent to donate. Great work! I am so proud of everyone who has contributed to LLS in some way shape or form. Honestly, it is so exciting! In our weekly update email, we were informed that the Chicago team has raised over $145,000 for LLS! PHENOMENAL!!! You all played a part in that, so please celebrate in that victory. The grand total we raised is $1,640 (three checks are still being processed, so the website still says $1,465). I am so proud of my fundraising team! This is such a great victory in my eyes as it will enable LLS to take leaps and bounds towards a cure. Absolutely brilliant work my friends! Thank you so much for all your support.
If you did not get around to donating, it's not too late! LLS is ALWAYS in need of donations to fund their research. Here's how it works: Because I fell short of the $2,000 commitment, I get to make up the difference. However, if donations come in within 30 days of the race, I can be reimbursed. Does that make sense? So technically, we still have $360 to raise! Continue to donate!!! =)
Saturday's group training consists of 'mini bricks' where we bike for 20 minutes, run for 15 minutes then repeat that twice to total 60 minutes of biking and 45 minutes of running. Unfortunately I will be working on Saturday so I won't get to do this one with the group, but plan on doing it on my own. Exciting times, for sure.
The brick workout on Sunday was a bear, but honestly better than I thought it would be. I didn't feel like I could go forever, but I didn't feel like I was going to keel over, either. I biked 25 miles in the two hours and ran six in the 45 minutes-- essentially the distances of the actual race! It felt really good to DO them-- now I know that it is a possibility, as long as nothing exciting goes down with the swim!
I was pretty tuckered out Sunday evening, though, then worked a thrilling twelve hour shift Monday. So, I decided to take Monday off of training for two reasons: 1) I was exhausted, and 2) as I walked home from the train, the insane storm hit and tornado sirens sung me home. I think had I gone out for a run at that point, I would have crossed the line of 'hardcore' into pure stupidity. When I realized there was no power when I finally (barely) made it home I just went straight to bed-- had to get up early for work again in the morning. When I did wake up, there was still no power. When I got home-- still no power!! I get SO CRANKY when there's no power! Woke up again this morning and still-- NO POWER! Finally at like 10:30 this morning the electricity gods (aka ComEd) shined upon my building and restored life to all appliances and lights.
Tonight we had a track workout that I honestly had to motivate myself to get to. Again, had it not been for the group of people I was training with, I probably would have bailed! All in all I am glad I went but wish that I didn't need such frequent attitude adjustments and mental motivational sessions. We started with a ten minute warm up jog. Then did 4x100 'build ups' where you build up speed for 100m, then jog 100, build up 100, jog 100, until you've built up four times. Then we did 2x200 sprints with a 200 recovery in between. So we'd sprint a 200 then recover 2000, sprint a 200 then recover a 200. THEN-- 400 (1 lap) 'fast' with a 400 recovery. THEN-- 800 'fast' with a 400 recovery. We ended with another 4x100 build up and a 1x200 sprint and frosted the cake with a 10 minute cool down. Speed has never been my forte so this wasn't my favorite workout, but I was glad that it was shorter sets because as soon as I'd get in the mindset of 'this blows' it'd be over and we'd start a new one. So it worked out.
Afterwards I went to the grocery store to replace my produce that spoiled with the lack of power. Grr!
The fundraising deadline was Monday. My Microbiology professor, a friend from college who's dad passed away from cancer, and my dad's boss are the most recent to donate. Great work! I am so proud of everyone who has contributed to LLS in some way shape or form. Honestly, it is so exciting! In our weekly update email, we were informed that the Chicago team has raised over $145,000 for LLS! PHENOMENAL!!! You all played a part in that, so please celebrate in that victory. The grand total we raised is $1,640 (three checks are still being processed, so the website still says $1,465). I am so proud of my fundraising team! This is such a great victory in my eyes as it will enable LLS to take leaps and bounds towards a cure. Absolutely brilliant work my friends! Thank you so much for all your support.
If you did not get around to donating, it's not too late! LLS is ALWAYS in need of donations to fund their research. Here's how it works: Because I fell short of the $2,000 commitment, I get to make up the difference. However, if donations come in within 30 days of the race, I can be reimbursed. Does that make sense? So technically, we still have $360 to raise! Continue to donate!!! =)
Saturday's group training consists of 'mini bricks' where we bike for 20 minutes, run for 15 minutes then repeat that twice to total 60 minutes of biking and 45 minutes of running. Unfortunately I will be working on Saturday so I won't get to do this one with the group, but plan on doing it on my own. Exciting times, for sure.
Sunday, August 3, 2008
"Can I Mark Your Body?"
South Shore Triathlon: 400yd swim, 10k bike, 1.5mile swim. No big deal...right?
I'm coming to realize that a triathlon is kind of like a cake. Several different things go into the end product that isn't anything like its ingredients. Once the cake is finished, you cannot pull out an egg or a cup of sugar. Triathlons seem to follow the same suit. The ingredients-- swimming, biking, and running all come together to form an insanely hard race. Since I started considering doing a triathlon, I've had the mindset of 'I can swim, I can ride a bike, and I can run, therefore I can do a triathlon-- piece of cake,' (no pun intended). However, after the mini-tri with TNT last week and this super sprint tri yesterday, I coming to find that even though I have all the ingredients, it doesn't necessarily mean that the end product is in the bag. Honestly, I'm nervous that I've come to this revelation so late in the game... there are twenty two days until I race and that is not enough time to right the wrongs I've committed in training. I think I will have to do what I can with the time I have and learn the lesson. Darnit.
So the race yesterday w
as crazy crazy far south-- the end of the Green Line for all you Chicagoans. I am eternally grateful for my former roommate who let me borrow her car so I didn't have to wake up at 2:30am to take the train. The night before I got everything ready so I could get up and not have to worry about anything. This included putting a water bottle cage on IH, pumping up her FAT tires, putting IH in the back of my friend's car, packing some food, Gatorade mixing, getting sunglasses, and just all 
those last minute things. Unfortunately those last minutes stretched out until 11:00pm which allowed me 4 hours of sleep. Lesson learned-- again. So, I left and arrived painfully early... 4:53am and the gates to the parking lot were locked.
After I got parked and reassembled my bike (had to pop off her front tire to fit her in the car), I headed to transition-- early of course, they wouldn't be opening it for another 30 minutes. So I waited. I like having time to mentally orient myself, so I was fine, although my nerves were building by the SECOND. I finally got in and set up my area. Then I stood and waited. As I stood there and 
people watched, I heard someone behind me ask "Can I mark your body?" Hell no! Was my instinctive reaction, but as I turned around I saw her fat permanent marker and realized I needed to have my number written on me. Still-- no more comfortable, but necessary. Once I'd been marked,I visited the port-a-potties three times over the next thirty minutes. The women setting up next to me were very kind and encouraging. While nobody could say anything to ease my nerves, it was nice to pass the time with small talk rather than mentally psych-ing myself out more.
All in all it was a great practice for Accenture. I finished 5th out of the 15 in my division (don't know how
they split up divisions), 16th out of the 112 women, got the complimentary metal, and free fresh fruit afterwards. And the race shirt is a tank top that I thoroughly enjoy! I'm not at all content with my times and am excited to work hard to improve them. I learned a lot and think I will be better prepared for Accenture than if I hadn't done this race. I still need to figure out how to hydrate during the bike. Yesterday I had my water bottle on the bike, but I didn't want to reach down for it because I didn't want it to slow me down. Fortunately it was a short enough bike for it to not be a huge deal, and the run afterwards was short enough that I wasn't too dehydrated during it. Good things to practice! Today I have a bear of a workout-- it's the group workout I missed yesterday in order to participate in the race. A two hour bike followed immediately by a 45 minute run. A brick! I now realize to an even greater extent the necessity of completing these workouts... running off the bike is close to torture-- even after a 6.2 mile bike and for a 1.5 mile run. I'm PETRIFIED for the 24.8 mile bike and 6.2 mile run.
To keep me honest-- here are the results:
I'm coming to realize that a triathlon is kind of like a cake. Several different things go into the end product that isn't anything like its ingredients. Once the cake is finished, you cannot pull out an egg or a cup of sugar. Triathlons seem to follow the same suit. The ingredients-- swimming, biking, and running all come together to form an insanely hard race. Since I started considering doing a triathlon, I've had the mindset of 'I can swim, I can ride a bike, and I can run, therefore I can do a triathlon-- piece of cake,' (no pun intended). However, after the mini-tri with TNT last week and this super sprint tri yesterday, I coming to find that even though I have all the ingredients, it doesn't necessarily mean that the end product is in the bag. Honestly, I'm nervous that I've come to this revelation so late in the game... there are twenty two days until I race and that is not enough time to right the wrongs I've committed in training. I think I will have to do what I can with the time I have and learn the lesson. Darnit.
So the race yesterday w
as crazy crazy far south-- the end of the Green Line for all you Chicagoans. I am eternally grateful for my former roommate who let me borrow her car so I didn't have to wake up at 2:30am to take the train. The night before I got everything ready so I could get up and not have to worry about anything. This included putting a water bottle cage on IH, pumping up her FAT tires, putting IH in the back of my friend's car, packing some food, Gatorade mixing, getting sunglasses, and just all 
those last minute things. Unfortunately those last minutes stretched out until 11:00pm which allowed me 4 hours of sleep. Lesson learned-- again. So, I left and arrived painfully early... 4:53am and the gates to the parking lot were locked. 
After I got parked and reassembled my bike (had to pop off her front tire to fit her in the car), I headed to transition-- early of course, they wouldn't be opening it for another 30 minutes. So I waited. I like having time to mentally orient myself, so I was fine, although my nerves were building by the SECOND. I finally got in and set up my area. Then I stood and waited. As I stood there and 
people watched, I heard someone behind me ask "Can I mark your body?" Hell no! Was my instinctive reaction, but as I turned around I saw her fat permanent marker and realized I needed to have my number written on me. Still-- no more comfortable, but necessary. Once I'd been marked,I visited the port-a-potties three times over the next thirty minutes. The women setting up next to me were very kind and encouraging. While nobody could say anything to ease my nerves, it was nice to pass the time with small talk rather than mentally psych-ing myself out more.It was finally time to go down to the beach. As we were walking I went to pull on my complimentary swim cap and it snapped. I was surprisingly calm. I broug
ht three extra-- just in case... and this time it paid off. I scampered back to my area and found an extra and made it back in plenty of time for the race-talk. What actually was going on was Bally's warm-up. My word... it was not a warm up I participated in for two reasons: 1) it was ridiculous... marching in place and punching the air? no thank you, and 2) it was led by pretty girls wearing essentially nothing for no reason. That went on for a solid ten minutes. I stretched what I needed to and let that be that. As we were standing on the beach, everyone kept saying 'geez, look at those waves.' THEY WERE HUGE. Please do not look at the picture below and think 'those are pansy waves' becuase this picture doesn't come CLOSE to representing the true nature of the swells that were very similar to the Pacific Ocean... where people surf the waves. I'd noticed upon arrival that the water looked really choppy but forced myself to believe that it always looks like that. I couldn't deny any longer, though, that the water was in fact really choppy and it would probably create havoc in the swim leg. After waiting around for at least 20 minutes to give the waves a chance to die down, the race started despite the growing height of the waves. As we waited, the buoys toppled completely over with each rush, the life guard boat was being tossed around like a toy, and my stomach started creeping up my throat. I felt like I was going to vomit
just WATCHING the water. My wave waded in to our waist to wait for the start horn. Chaos. My wave was women ages 15-34. When we started 'swimming' it was shrieks and nervous laugther, "Oh my GOSH!'s" and gasping all around. It sounded like some obnoxious sorority gathering. There was no way one could swim in that. At all. Trust me-- I tried. So, I'm grateful the water was about 4ft deep as it allowed me to run the swim. That is right, I ran the swim leg of the triathlon. Legal? Probably not. However-- I really had little choice-- run it or die trying to swim it. I'd rather be DQ'd from the race than from life. I was not alone in my decision as many of my wave-mates were running it and getting in my way whilst doing so. OUT OF CONTROL. It really threw me off-- my legs were tired, and the swim leg is supposed to preserve your legs for the bike and swim. I didn't expect the dynamic of what happened in the swim leg at all, and unfortunately I rely HEAVILY upon mental preparation in all areas of life. But I didn't drown, and I actually think I was the last one out of the water. It was definitely like a really bad episode of Baywatch as I tried to run out ..oy... haha, what can ya do. I was rather angry at this point-- my first triathlon, and I apparently couldn't swim? How would the results be at all accurate if this is how the race started? It just irritated me to no end. Again, this picture does not come close to representing the actual size of the waves that I encountered. I would gladly swim in baby waves like these. Shoot.
So I scurried up to the transition, passing people along the way. I had a lot of time (and dignity) to make up. I peeled my wetsuit off along the way, also shedding any ounce of self respect or pride. I guess its good to get rid of those. The results say that I took 2:54 in transition 1 but it sure didn't seem like that. I threw on my shirt, socks and shoes (with elastic shoelaces now!), snapped on my helmet and slipped on my cheap-o Jewel sunglasses and was off. Honestly, I don't know how it took so long, but again, another thing to be mindful of for Accenture.
The bike was pretty unremarkable. It just reminded me of how much I want a functioning triathlon bike. I guess it is almost a rite of passage in a sense.. if I want to do triathlons bad enough, I'll do my first real one on a mountain bike. Initiation almost. After the 6.2 mile bike, my legs were SO TIRED! I've done the full 25 on my mountain bike before in training, but I don't remember them feeling like that. I think the 'race' part of it all got to me. I see people ...racing, and that stresses me out and I am like 'holy cow pick it up, self!' Also, this race was a super sprint-- you're supposed to go as fast as you can because the distances are crazy crazy short. So we'll see. I finally finished the bike. Apparently it takes 1:12 to park a bike and take off a helmet. Shoot, Transition 2 wasn't my best showing either. The run is what I felt best about in comparison to the other two legs, even though my time was rather absurd for a mile and a half. I have to remember that I can't necessarily judge each leg as I have in the past. I can't compare my run times to times I've achieved outside the triathlon context. Goes back to the whole cake thing... it's just completely different.
ht three extra-- just in case... and this time it paid off. I scampered back to my area and found an extra and made it back in plenty of time for the race-talk. What actually was going on was Bally's warm-up. My word... it was not a warm up I participated in for two reasons: 1) it was ridiculous... marching in place and punching the air? no thank you, and 2) it was led by pretty girls wearing essentially nothing for no reason. That went on for a solid ten minutes. I stretched what I needed to and let that be that. As we were standing on the beach, everyone kept saying 'geez, look at those waves.' THEY WERE HUGE. Please do not look at the picture below and think 'those are pansy waves' becuase this picture doesn't come CLOSE to representing the true nature of the swells that were very similar to the Pacific Ocean... where people surf the waves. I'd noticed upon arrival that the water looked really choppy but forced myself to believe that it always looks like that. I couldn't deny any longer, though, that the water was in fact really choppy and it would probably create havoc in the swim leg. After waiting around for at least 20 minutes to give the waves a chance to die down, the race started despite the growing height of the waves. As we waited, the buoys toppled completely over with each rush, the life guard boat was being tossed around like a toy, and my stomach started creeping up my throat. I felt like I was going to vomit
just WATCHING the water. My wave waded in to our waist to wait for the start horn. Chaos. My wave was women ages 15-34. When we started 'swimming' it was shrieks and nervous laugther, "Oh my GOSH!'s" and gasping all around. It sounded like some obnoxious sorority gathering. There was no way one could swim in that. At all. Trust me-- I tried. So, I'm grateful the water was about 4ft deep as it allowed me to run the swim. That is right, I ran the swim leg of the triathlon. Legal? Probably not. However-- I really had little choice-- run it or die trying to swim it. I'd rather be DQ'd from the race than from life. I was not alone in my decision as many of my wave-mates were running it and getting in my way whilst doing so. OUT OF CONTROL. It really threw me off-- my legs were tired, and the swim leg is supposed to preserve your legs for the bike and swim. I didn't expect the dynamic of what happened in the swim leg at all, and unfortunately I rely HEAVILY upon mental preparation in all areas of life. But I didn't drown, and I actually think I was the last one out of the water. It was definitely like a really bad episode of Baywatch as I tried to run out ..oy... haha, what can ya do. I was rather angry at this point-- my first triathlon, and I apparently couldn't swim? How would the results be at all accurate if this is how the race started? It just irritated me to no end. Again, this picture does not come close to representing the actual size of the waves that I encountered. I would gladly swim in baby waves like these. Shoot.So I scurried up to the transition, passing people along the way. I had a lot of time (and dignity) to make up. I peeled my wetsuit off along the way, also shedding any ounce of self respect or pride. I guess its good to get rid of those. The results say that I took 2:54 in transition 1 but it sure didn't seem like that. I threw on my shirt, socks and shoes (with elastic shoelaces now!), snapped on my helmet and slipped on my cheap-o Jewel sunglasses and was off. Honestly, I don't know how it took so long, but again, another thing to be mindful of for Accenture.
The bike was pretty unremarkable. It just reminded me of how much I want a functioning triathlon bike. I guess it is almost a rite of passage in a sense.. if I want to do triathlons bad enough, I'll do my first real one on a mountain bike. Initiation almost. After the 6.2 mile bike, my legs were SO TIRED! I've done the full 25 on my mountain bike before in training, but I don't remember them feeling like that. I think the 'race' part of it all got to me. I see people ...racing, and that stresses me out and I am like 'holy cow pick it up, self!' Also, this race was a super sprint-- you're supposed to go as fast as you can because the distances are crazy crazy short. So we'll see. I finally finished the bike. Apparently it takes 1:12 to park a bike and take off a helmet. Shoot, Transition 2 wasn't my best showing either. The run is what I felt best about in comparison to the other two legs, even though my time was rather absurd for a mile and a half. I have to remember that I can't necessarily judge each leg as I have in the past. I can't compare my run times to times I've achieved outside the triathlon context. Goes back to the whole cake thing... it's just completely different.All in all it was a great practice for Accenture. I finished 5th out of the 15 in my division (don't know how
they split up divisions), 16th out of the 112 women, got the complimentary metal, and free fresh fruit afterwards. And the race shirt is a tank top that I thoroughly enjoy! I'm not at all content with my times and am excited to work hard to improve them. I learned a lot and think I will be better prepared for Accenture than if I hadn't done this race. I still need to figure out how to hydrate during the bike. Yesterday I had my water bottle on the bike, but I didn't want to reach down for it because I didn't want it to slow me down. Fortunately it was a short enough bike for it to not be a huge deal, and the run afterwards was short enough that I wasn't too dehydrated during it. Good things to practice! Today I have a bear of a workout-- it's the group workout I missed yesterday in order to participate in the race. A two hour bike followed immediately by a 45 minute run. A brick! I now realize to an even greater extent the necessity of completing these workouts... running off the bike is close to torture-- even after a 6.2 mile bike and for a 1.5 mile run. I'm PETRIFIED for the 24.8 mile bike and 6.2 mile run.To keep me honest-- here are the results:
Kristin Ourada
bib number: 107
age: 22
gender: F
location: Chicago, IL
overall place: 62 out of 221
division place: 5 out of 15
gender place: 16 out of 112
time: 44:33
swim: 5:57
trans 1: 2:54
bike: 22:16
trans 2: 1:12
run: 12:15
bib number: 107
age: 22
gender: F
location: Chicago, IL
overall place: 62 out of 221
division place: 5 out of 15
gender place: 16 out of 112
time: 44:33
swim: 5:57
trans 1: 2:54
bike: 22:16
trans 2: 1:12
run: 12:15
Friday, August 1, 2008
Race Month!
Happy August!
It's race month! Yikes. It'll start off with a bang bright and early tomorrow morning with the South Shore Super Sprint Triathlon. When they say south, they mean south. I will have to leave my apartment at 3:00am to arrive by 5:30! Sick. Good thing I'm a morning person, right? Does 3am qualifiy as morning? I think that's still the witching-hour. I'm nervous for this little endeavor of mine. I don't have a buddy! Despite my encouraging (okay, begging) of any and every acquaintence/friend/passerby, no one wanted to embrace it with me. I think that 'I don't want to do it by myself' is a super lame excuse to sit something out, but man-- I don't want to do it by myself!!! I'm sure it will create a memorable experience that is sure to bring someone laughter.
This afternoon I am headed down to the super-far-south-side to get my race packet. I knew it'd be on the south side when I signed up (South Shore Tri... duh), but I didn't take the time to googlemap it... I think I would have signed up for it regardless, though, because I can get there on the El, it will just take a year to do so. It does make me nervous traveling in that area at that time of day, I won't lie. But again-- a sissy reason to miss out on the opportunity. Darn!
Nothing terribly exciting to report. Fundraising deadline is Tuesday August 4th... in just a few days. We're still $545 short of our $2,000 goal. I'm so proud of the $1,455 we've raised, though. Honestly I'm just amazed at how people have stepped up and donated whether it be their finances, supplies, or prayers. I know that support is numerically being measured for financial donations, but the well wishes and notes of encouragement are equally as valuable and appreciated. If anything I'm grateful that I'm working full time now-- maybe I will fill the fundraising gap without overdrawing (cross your fingers)!!
Please continue to donate. If you have put it off until a more convenient time, today is the day. Those with blood cancer can't put off their duel with death until it's more convenient. Will you rise to this challenge the same way they rise to the challenge of their lives each day??
It's race month! Yikes. It'll start off with a bang bright and early tomorrow morning with the South Shore Super Sprint Triathlon. When they say south, they mean south. I will have to leave my apartment at 3:00am to arrive by 5:30! Sick. Good thing I'm a morning person, right? Does 3am qualifiy as morning? I think that's still the witching-hour. I'm nervous for this little endeavor of mine. I don't have a buddy! Despite my encouraging (okay, begging) of any and every acquaintence/friend/passerby, no one wanted to embrace it with me. I think that 'I don't want to do it by myself' is a super lame excuse to sit something out, but man-- I don't want to do it by myself!!! I'm sure it will create a memorable experience that is sure to bring someone laughter.
This afternoon I am headed down to the super-far-south-side to get my race packet. I knew it'd be on the south side when I signed up (South Shore Tri... duh), but I didn't take the time to googlemap it... I think I would have signed up for it regardless, though, because I can get there on the El, it will just take a year to do so. It does make me nervous traveling in that area at that time of day, I won't lie. But again-- a sissy reason to miss out on the opportunity. Darn!
Nothing terribly exciting to report. Fundraising deadline is Tuesday August 4th... in just a few days. We're still $545 short of our $2,000 goal. I'm so proud of the $1,455 we've raised, though. Honestly I'm just amazed at how people have stepped up and donated whether it be their finances, supplies, or prayers. I know that support is numerically being measured for financial donations, but the well wishes and notes of encouragement are equally as valuable and appreciated. If anything I'm grateful that I'm working full time now-- maybe I will fill the fundraising gap without overdrawing (cross your fingers)!!
Please continue to donate. If you have put it off until a more convenient time, today is the day. Those with blood cancer can't put off their duel with death until it's more convenient. Will you rise to this challenge the same way they rise to the challenge of their lives each day??
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