Memorial Day Tri: Swim, Bike, Eat

I temporarily re-joined the New Triathlete's Program for the traditional three sports with which to celebrate Memorial Day: swim/bike/eat throwdown at Sandy Point Park, just outside of Annapolis.

(I apparently need to actually buy a camera, because Someone decided she wants her own camera back. Sheesh. Kids.)

Maybe you've heard? Swimming isn't my strong suit? I kind of sort of actually hate and detest it? Maybe I haven't actually blogged about swimming. I think maybe I only FaceBooked about the hate-on I have for swimming. Well, to make a long story short: I have this swim coach, she's great, she kicks my ass, I'm tossing up a lung in her workouts, I almost quit, I didn't, things got better, and well, we'll see.

I mean, I want to be challenged in my swimming. But there's challenging and then there's impossible. It's as though my track coach just suddenly told me to run 7 min miles. That's a fine goal, but you know, I'm not going to get there for a long, long (REALLY LONG) while. So I explained all of this to my coach, and voila, or viola, at last week's swim lesson I got to wear flippers. (And those things rock.) So, we'll see.

Anywho, I had to FORCE myself to do this open water swim thing, as usual. We had some nice OLDTP-ers on hand to guide us (thanks Ed and Simon!) and they gave some great pointers. I worked hard on sighting and on swimming, and on swimming, you know—near other people. Like REALLY close. We practiced Mass Starts, which I have successfully avoided up til now. It wasn't so horrible as I thought. We did variations of swimming from this buoy to that one over and over, gradually increasing distance, culminating in a nice long 800 m swim in the lovely Chesapeake Bay.

As usual, it was awesome. I didn't drown (my latest new terror? That I'll be the one who has the heart attack in the water that you read about at every triathlon. It's always something, isn't it?), and I kept a decent pace. It's possible that the wetsuit helped.

After all of that fun, we had a leisurely transition and hit the bikes for another FANTASTIC ride. We did about 16 miles, headed towards Annapolis. Beautiful day, birds singing, the smell of honeysuckle, cut grass, and barbecue in the air. What made this ride fun and different? Well, I kept up, for one thing. And we rode in a pace line for another. These are monumental things in my puny little life. I remember this trip last year, when a 40-mile-bike ride pretty much broke me. So great to see progress. Plus? The New New Triathletes were terrific.

On the way back, one of the NTP-ers got a flat and a few of us stopped to help her fix it. I provided the tube, Simon provided the brawn. And the skill. (Although I could have done it. Eventually.)

Anyway, the point of this little story is, I fell behind everyone, but I was determined to catch up, and catch up I did.

After a mile or so, I met up with Simon, who was nicely waiting for me and then?

It. Was. On.

It. Was. So. On.

(Simon is half my age and an Ironman. So yeah. It wasn't really on.)

Simon at New Jersey Tri last year. Sorry big guy.

I needed to catch a few people. I needed to SHOW a few people how to do this thing. (Heh.)

Apparently I started riding. After a bit Simon pulled up to me and said, "You know you're doing about 18 mph?"

What? Exsqueeze me?? This thing only goes 15 mph. (And no, I don't have a bike computer. On purpose. Why depress myself more?)

I kept going. It felt great!! Simon told me later I hit 20mph (and if he was lying, I don't want to know). Ed even told me I had a nice cadence! (Some women like to be told they're beautiful. Then, there's the rest of us.)

I say it over and over: It's the little things in life, people.

These little victories and people telling me I'm getting better just mean the world to me. I mean, I was high after hearing that!

I just hope I remember to do the same for others.

Afterwards, we headed to Cantlers for the traditional crabcake feast

Me, Ed, last year at Cantler's. Yum.

No better way to spend a Memorial Day.

Pushing Boundaries

Before I didn't finish the RRCA 10-Mile Challenge, I did finish talking to a roomful (at LEAST 100. Prolly more like 200. Or 2000.) of candidates for D.C. Tri's New Triathlete Program 2009.

I was asked to join the volunteer coordinators at the NTP Orientation last Saturday. and just "talk about your experience."

So we all know that fear of public speaking ranks before fear of death, right?

Right.

Though I was a little nervous beforehand, I felt like I knew my subject—me—pretty well.

So here's an abbreviated version of what I told them, in no particular order.

I told them that the club president, answering my general query about the NTP, talked me into doing the Olympic distance race that the program was training for. How other people believing in you can make YOU believe in YOU.

I told them I got an "F" in gym in high school. That I had run for a few years. That I was 52.

I told them that last year was hands down the best year of my life.

I described my journey to my first triathlon, the Philadelphia Insurance Sprint, and how I almost cried at the start because I thought my life would be ending soon—that's how scared I was.

I told them that I am the shyest person on earth (quite possibly true) and that I forced myself to go to things where I didn't know anyone, and how scary, but crucial, it is to do that.

I told them about the first "bric-nic" I went to, which I had to drag myself to because I didn't know anyone and had a crap bike, but how I went anyway and had So Much Fun It Should Be Illegal.

I told them that it takes guts to finish last.

I described the misery of being the last swimmer out of the water at the New Jersey Tri., racing to the bike racks only to see them empty, riding that long course by myself, running 10k in the 200F weather, and having to run past the finish (at this point my co-presenters started clearing their throats. What, you don't think this is a great sales pitch???).

But I eventually got to the punch line, which was: Coming back down the final leg of the run, down the hill, convinced everyone was gone and I was last, only to see and hear my NTP peeps had all WAITED FOR ME and were rushing the net cheering MY name.

Quite simply one (out of two) of the best days of my life.

I told them some other stuff too. How much help they would get from other triathletes—even Ironmen rode 12 mph with me, helping me out. How they'd be their own best mentors, to show up for stuff, to put themselves out there and take risks.

Kind of like I did standing up in front of a roomful of strangers.

Plus? I think they liked my little talk.

You Want Hills?

Forget Alpe D'Huez, take a look at THIS:


Savageman HIM, Deep Creek Lake: There's a reason the SavageMan is considered the Most Savage Triathlon in the World, and the Westernport Wall is one of them.

This is the race my evil friends are urging me to do--the inaugural Olympic distance thankfully does NOT include this tiny speed bump.

I'm not sure if this video is gonna PUMP. ME. UP.!

Just Felt Like It

Dedicated to all my NTP peeps...and everyone else I know! (Hi Casey!)



Those were the days.

These ARE the days!

Riders in Search of ...

Just a typical weekend.

Up at 5:30 on Saturday, drive to Vienna (that would be Vienna, Virginia) to meet up with my homies:
L-R: Greg, Jason, Carolina, Rachel, Catie, Sandy, Julia, Casey, me

for a nice, leisurely 45.8 mile ride.

It was leisurely because a) we have this little ohmygodwhathaveisignedupfortri coming up in two weeks, and b) we had a "training" tri on Sunday (which is in the running for the Most. MisNamed. Event. Ever.) so my crew was taking it easy.

We went out on the W&OD trail, which intercepts with many cross streets, so has many stop signs on it for several miles, so is a) great practice for clipping in and out (hi greg!) and b) makes it hard to go too fast.

W&OD elevation map; also? It was downhill most of the way out.

Which meant? My peeps went slow, and—I got to pass them! I got to pretend that I was faster. I was even out front at some points. It was some kind of serious excitement for me, since I've never been first ever EVER EVER!! IN ANYTHING!!! (OK, so they let me be first. I will take what I can get.)

We rode out to Leesburg, where I had to beg everyone to dismount and get their photo taken with this sign. I guess they are shy. Soon enough though they were tripping over each other to get into this historic shot:


There is one difference between these photos. Can you spot it?

The ride was planned with two stops in mind: beer and ice cream. Not necessarily together.

There's a sign on the trail with an arrow pointing thataway to a brewery. So we followed the arrow, which led us to a lovely industrial park, where we rode around for a while, in search of a brewery.
If only we could see SOME clue that there actually is a brewery around here.

Finally found it, but there was no place for the bikes, so we wisely made the decision to carry on to the next stop: Dairy Queen!!

Jason and Sandy vie for the cutest award.
Catie is a third contender.

We are some badasses! Don't mess with us! Yum, Blizzards!


Casey is totally hardcore.

Next up: My "Training" Tri Race Report. Don't touch that dial.

Contributions to the "buy jeanne a new tv" fund will be gratefully accepted. Although I honestly think you people should not be ENCOURAGING me to watch TV. C'mon!

Smackdown!

I got smacked! But I didn't go down.

Pouring rain when I awoke at 6:00 am this morning. But accuweather.com said "clouds" for the rest of the day. Liars.

The deal was: Haine's point, 3.0 mile run, 16 mile bike, 3.1 mile run.

It was warm (65-ish), and drizzling. About 20 people turned out; they waived the $5 fee cuz they said this was going to just be a training session, not so much a race.

There were only two other New Triathlete Program (NTP) members participating, but some other NTP-ers who were (smartly) volunteering.

Off we went on the run. I wore a light windbreaker over a long sleeved technical T, and was instantly hot. I had all kinds of crap in my pockets: keys, iPod, gu, energy bar. It was annoying.

Drizzling soon turned into pouring.

Finished the run in 29:17 (but later checked with my car and distance was actually 2.8 miles), which is 10:28 / mile. I felt OK. I was not DEAD last in run #1!

I changed into another jacket, hoping for some kinda DRY, and took care of some bizness behind a bush. Transition time: 5 min!

Off I went to do 5 loops of Haine's Point.

That's a lot of loops. In the rain. The pissing, pouring rain. While wearing glasses. Which get so wet and foggy, just so you know, that it's actually impossible to SEE.

Did I mention it started thundering? And lightning?

It took me 1:20 (12 mph). People were passing me like I was standing still. Somewhere in loop 3, a volunteer told me that run #2 had been canceled. I whooped. Even though I felt OK, I could NOT imagine another run.

As I started loop 4, people were already on the run. The CANCELED run. The poor, wet, cold volunteers asked me what loop I was on, desperately hoping I'd say "Five." Sorry to disappoint!

Finally started loop 5, totally soaked and unable to see, but other than that I felt OK (although I was tempted to call David and have him deliver my SAAB to me). I was the ONLY person still biking.

Finally finished loop five. As I pulled into the parking lot, the organizer said "no run #2", even though about half the folks there did finish run #2. But because I felt SO BAD for the volunteers, who were now waiting ONLY for me before they could leave, I cut them a break, and bagged run #2.

My first DNF!

You never saw so many people pack up and leave so fast.

I drove the course after I had wrangled the bike into the back seat of the car, and saw one valiant gal still out on the run. I toyed with the idea of waiting for her in the now-vacant transition area, but my head hurt and I was cold and wet, and I guess, let's face it, I'm just not that nice.

But you know who IS nice? Every single person who passed me (that would be everyone) either on foot or on bike and called out "Good job," every single time.

Now that's nice.

Ride, Sally, Ride

REGISTRATION IS CLOSED

The New Triathles Program (NTP) 2008 closed in a record 35 minutes! To those that we were unable to register, we apologize and hope that you intend to become active in the general membership of DC Tri. We have countless opportunities to help you get through your first triathlon and hope that you will still plan to register for the NJ State Triathlon and join us as we go for our fourth consecutive USAT Mid-Atlantic Club Championship!

February 1, Friday morning, 8:50 a.m.: I should have been ensconced in a training room deep in the bowels of the Washington Hilton Hotel, learning all the ins-and-outs of Day Two of Project Management. Instead, I sat in my office, fingers hovering over the keyboard, waiting for NTP to open. As the clock ticked toward 9:00 a.m., I loaded and reloaded the page, not wanting to miss my opportunity (which, as you know, only knocks once). The minute I saw the NTP Program on the sign-up page, I pounced, filled out all the info...and MADE IT IN!

(I didn't miss anything at the PM class btw. In fact, I made it there by 9:05. Just in case anyone is wondering.)

But the point is: I'm IN!

So today, Sunday, the day after Saturday, the day of my long run, in which I manage to get increasingly slower week after week (yesterday--10 miles, 1:54), after having eaten three donuts at church, coming home to my disheveled apartment, and trying to decide between cleaning up, buying groceries or doing the laundry, I looked out the window at a beautiful sunny sky with 55F, and instead decided to check out the warm-up plan (that's the plan you follow for the month before you start the actual triathlon plan) and discovered today was 50 minutes on the bike, followed by a 10-minute run.

Pfft! A 10-minute run! You're making me laugh!

So I flung myself and some gear into the car to drive to work, because that's where the bike, and come to think of it, the trail, are.

Twenty minutes later I was riding mustang sally. For 50 minutes. I'm sure I've got every part of that bike set at some weird angle, since my knee hurt and my back was killing me. Anyway, I did 9 miles in 50 minutes, so that's what I like about the bike. When's the last time you heard me say I did NINE MILES IN 50 MINUTES??

I was sailing past all those runners. Ha! Until I had to turn around and realized, for the millionth time, that this trail is DOWNHILL ONE WAY. Which means: UPHILL THE OTHER WAY.

My favorite part was going up the River Road bridge, and flying down the other side, where there were some walkers coming towards me. Ambling. On my side of the trail. One was a kid of about 17, holding a coffee cup, staring straight at me. Since he was staring at me, I made the foolish mistake of thinking that he SAW ME. No movement on his part reflected that any such impression had indeed been made. So I did what anyone would do. I screamed, "Moooooooooove!!!" at the top of my voice.

That worked.

I made it back to work, parked the bike and headed back up to the trail for a 10-minute run.

Holy freakin' hell.

Who invented this?? I'd heard about "wobbly legs" off the bike, etc., but geeeze! Imagine running with giant cement blocks on your feet instead of running shoes. That's what hopping off a bike and trying to run feels like. Kids riding Big Wheels were passing me. Old ladies with walkers and oxygen tanks. You get the picture.

I managed one mile in 10:17, but all I can say is: I'm really gonna give new meaning to the word "SPRINT" on June 21.