Peasantman Sprint Triathlon 2012, Race Recap Part Two or The Day The Earth Stood Still

(New? Read part one here.)

As I was saying, I had forgotten, truly forgotten, how much forethought, goes into triathlon. Let's take a trip on the wayback machine, waaaayback to my first trip to Lake Anna in June 2008 for a simple swim/bike practice with D.C. Tri Club. In 2008, the lovely NOD (that would be Number One Daughter, as some of you already know) put this checklist inside the front door to make sure I didn't forget anything:

say, like, Chocolate Chip cookies! (Like I said, just the essentials!)

In my last post, I exposed my fears, worries and fallback position of "I don't even know where my wetsuit is!"

But as the days ticked by, one thing led to another.

My friend and mentor Becky egged me on.

And then I swam 700 m straight in the pool.

And then I found the wetsuit.

And some ShotBloks.

And some throwaway flip-flops.

And the next thing I knew, just like Mitt Romney, I was shaking up the etch-a-sketch, erasing the past two years of triathlon boycott, and on my way to Lake Anna!

Thankfully, there were four swim waves, in this order:

1st: Olympic confident swimmers
2nd: Olympic less confident swimmers
3rd: Sprint confident swimmers
4th: Sprint less confident swimmers

(Can I just say that I LOVE the pc-ness of these swim labels?!?! This is what makes America great--everyone's a winner!)

(Also, for those new to triathlon, Olympic distance is 1,500 swim, 22 mile bike, 10k run. Sprint is half of those.)

What a relief. Clearly organized by someone who understands me!

Into the lake I went. For the first 200 meters I pretty much let the wetsuit swim for me. It's buoyant! Then i tried to focus on not having a heart attack. Then i tried to focus on different elements of my stroke. Finally I resorted to counting. In the world of sprint triathlons, I took forever. People have finished Ironman swims in less time. But I had plenty of company, and people were even laughing and having fun. While swimming.

I know.

!

750 M: 25 min

As usual, I made my graceful exit:

Am I wearing a tutu? Is that why I am holding my arms out? Am I radioactive?

I emerged dizzy, disoriented, with a headache but oh-so-pleased with myself. I did it! The rest was gravy.

I think I took about 8 minutes in T1 (transition 1). But I was so happy, I couldn't have cared less what my time was. Breakthru thinking people!

The bike out started on an uphill. Which is kind of a challenge, if you're me. So I dropped my chain and the nice bikeout volunteer helped me put it back on. Which is a big no-no in an "official" tri, but no problem in this one!

The bike route was just pure fun. Because there were so many people doing the Olympic and they had started at different times, I was never alone. I wish more race directors would take a clue from Peasantman! It wasn't too hot, the sky was clearing, there were few cars, and we were in a state park. What's not to like?!

11 miles: 1:05

My extensive bike training clearly shows. But I was just so happy!

And then came the 5k run. I have only recently re-ignited my illustrious running career (hello, see name of blog you are reading) by using the Couch to 5k program on my iPhone, which I highly recommend. It's a very gradual intro to running. So with no time goals in mind, I was delighted to do a walk/run ratio of 3 min walk/ 8 min run. And that's what I did. For 4.3 miles.

Wait...what?

Wasn't this supposed to be 3.1??

Around the 2 mile point, one of the volunteers cheerily informed us that the course was long--actually 4.3 miles instead of 3.1. Thank God I wasn't trying to beat any records, or I would have shriveled up and died. But people seemed to take it in stride. We just kept on putting one foot in front of the other.

This is why I love triathlon. It really teaches you that if you're going to survive, you have to learn to make the best of whatever comes your way. LESSONS, people, LESSONS!

The other reason I love triathlon? Even though I am OLD and SLOW, just about every single person who passed me said, "Good job!" or some encouraging thing.

Triathletes! They really are special.

4.3 mile run: 50:40 minutes.

And anyway, how could anyone get upset with signs like this?!

With a huff and puff, I skipped the last few walk breaks and ran it in.

Utterly and completely delighted with myself!

And at the finish line? Were these:

and these:

Courtesy hometown heroes Georgetown Cupcake

Stacks and stacks of them! I have never seen so many cupcakes in my life!

I felt sick to my stomach and my head hurt. And? I have never felt so good in my life!

I had only one thought, as I passed on the mounds of cupcakes that were gently whispering my name, and the piles of food at the barbeque:

Please sir, I want some more.

Peasantman Sprint Triathlon 2012 Race Recap, Part One

Preamble

Hmm, what's the best way to explain Peasantman? Perhaps I'll just quote a bit from the Athlete's guide to give you a flavor (and I encourage you to go read the rest of it if you need a good laugh):

Hello Peasant Class Citizens,
The greatest day of your lives is here. For many of you, this will be your first swim, bike, and run combo event of any kind. A few of you may not be able to sleep the night before. Others will likely pee a lot inside their wetsuits prior to the swim.

All I have to say is, please bring a cup or wear your favorite chastity belt underneath your wetsuit. Assuming the later isn’t from the Ballston/Claredon/Court House corridor, where chastity is frowned upon. (n.b.: This is a sophisticated D.C. humorous geographical reference.)

For some, this event will bring validation of all their training and hard work. For others, it will be a rude awakening of work that lies ahead. It may scare many to see what a real open water swim entails.

Getting molested during an open water swim is not as fun as the liberal media may portray it to be. If things do not go as you expect, I give you the below quote.

"Courage doesn't always roar, sometimes it is the quiet voice at the end of the day saying "I will try again tomorrow."

To the new triathletes among us, you guys are doing something that few even have the courage to attempt. I applaud you for that. I’d applaud you louder if you resist the temptation to pee in the lake. If you don’t, it won’t matter – the discharge from the nuclear power plant at Lake Anna will zap anything you discharge. (n.b.: More local humor.)

One of my favorite quotes is “life is not measured by the number of breath that we take but by the moments and places that take our breaths away.” Success or failure, this will be one of those moments for you. Embrace it! Live it! ... for there is only one first time.

The best way I can explain Peasantman is to say it's a training triathlon with both Sprint and Olympic distance options, takes place at Lake Anna (Virginia); the sprint is a 750 meter swim in Lake Anna, followed by 11 mile bike ride, followed by a 5k run. Exactly like a real tri except for all the rules. So, for instance, if you find yourself unable to finish the swim, it is perfectly acceptable to get out early and continue on the bike. Or skip the bike, and just run. Or skip everything and just eat.

My kind of race!

It is the brainchild of D.C. Tri-(er? ist? man?) Tuan Nguyen (aka the "Vertical Swimmer") several time Ironman, who (you might be surprised to learn) is of Vietnamese extraction. He is harder to explain, except to say that he is a mix of juvenile toilet humor (see above) and breathtaking inspiration (see above).

In a word, the perfect man!

Tuan's epic-length weekly email updates about this event are ... well, epic. And hilarious. And really? The main reason I registered, after being absent from triathlon/running/sportsofanykind since oh approximately exactly Jan. 30, 2010 is so I could stay on the mailing list.

So, on a fateful March 8, 2012, apparently while in some sort of fugue state, I hit the register button. For a May 6 triathlon. Which would give me about 8 weeks to go from zero to sprint tri. Continuing to uphold the Notborntorun motto:

Undertrained and overanxious!

Sometime in late March (why rush?) I realized I should probably start training.

My secret plan was to sort of half-assedly train, because I never for one moment thought I might, you know, actually compete.

But a funny thing happened. I found that I had actually missed training. A LOT. I started looking forward to it. I figured out a way to run (ok, run/walk) on the awesome rail-to-trail near my office. And I made it a point to get in the pool at least twice a week.

Oh wait. Isn't there's some third thing in triathlon that I'm forgetting...?? Ah yes. The bike. Yeah, I figured I would just wing the bike. I mean, how hard could it possibly be to ride a bike for 11 miles????!!

Thus began my spring 2012 triathlon training!

Foreword

My friend and mentor Ironwoman Becky was a constant source of encouragement. And about 2 weeks out, I started toying with the idea of actually showing up for this race, if for no other reason than to make her happy! (I should also add that Becky was volunteer coordinator for this event, which benefited the High Cloud Foundation).

So two weeks out, knowing she probably had nothing better to do, I emailed Becky and we had the following exchange (I am soooo not making this up):

Me: Ok, can you give me a (relatively) SANE swim workout for tonight? Forget about 30' or 60'... time goals just totally freak me out. I think the longest continual swim i've done this spring is 400m (and that includes wall clutching!). i have a total mental block about swimming 700 straight thru. i'm completely convinced i cannot do it!

Becky: You've got a week and a half. How many swims will you do between now and then, honestly? I'll come up with a progression with that in mind.

Me: Four swims, realistically. counting tonight!

Becky:

Becky:

Becky: Sigh.

Becky: Try this:

1) 4x200 (30").
2) 3x300(30"),
3) 2x400(60").
4) 600(60"), 200.

Me: Is that ALL for one night??

Becky:

Becky: no, each is a different day's workout.

Becky: 4x200 (30") translation: after your warm up, do 4 sets of 200m swimming. Between each set of 200 rest for 30 seconds.


Me: AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

Me: i thought you were saying to do it IN 30" !!!!

Me: OK, now I like you again.:)

Becky:

And the next thing I knew, it was May 6, 2012, race day.

To be continued...

(Sorry I know this is lame, but I have so much to share! I promise I won't leave you hanging for long. If it helps, SPOILER ALERT: I FINISHED!)

News Flash ... Hot Flash?

Swimming! I remember swimming!! It's that activity where you feel like your limbs are encased in a sea of marshmallow fluff while crawling through molasses which has been poured over the cement blocks covering your hands and feet.



Yes, swimming!

Tuesday, 3/27/12: 200 kick, 100 pull

Don't knock it, it's a start!

Uno, Dos, Tres...Cartorce?

I have a perfectly good reason for not blogging.

I've been reading.

No really.

I come home from work, make dinner, curl up on the couch and read.

For like HOURS.

It's AWESOME.

But I know you've been wondering.

And the answer is: YES.

YES, I have been running!

You can read all the gory details right over there --------->

in my little workout log.

After some dithering around, I finally settled on a half-mary training schedule. (As my friend LBTEPA is wont to say: All hail the schedule!)

Runners' World has a nifty little tool called SmartCoach (thanks for the tip, Adam!) You plug in all your numbers and out pops a training plan.

My training plan calls for three runs a week. (That's not enough, is it? Oh well, it's a start.)

The week of the 20th (one week after Nation's Tri) I put in 14 miles.

Last week, I ran 15 miles.

And so far this week I'm up to 9, with 7 on tap for Saturday.

I LOVE IT. I love having structure. I loves me a good plan! I am ever-so-gradually getting a teensy bit faster.

But mostly I'm trying to help myself learn to like running.

Cuz, you know what?

This s*** is hard!

Harder than cycling, where you're at least sitting down!

Harder than swimming (except for open water, nothing beats that for hard), where you get a wall every now and then!

Sheesh.

Who knew?

And speaking of swimming and hatred, I dragged myself back to American University for a structured swim class (sort of pre-Masters') on Sunday nights. This is led by the same evil swim coach that I had in the spring. (Remember "Can you FEEEEL the water?") Yes, Coach Tammy is happy to once more be kicking my ass.

So, I'm starting again, again.

I have many more adventures to tell you about, plus kind of a big story to tell. But that will have to wait.

First, I want to wish great good luck to Adventures-in-the-Thin-Trade-David, who is running the Hartford marathon on Sunday, and Now-the-Plan-Is-This-Allison who is running the Melbourne martathon, her first! Better you than me!

Meanwhile, I'll leave you with this video of my boyfriend, the awesome-if-egomaniacal Bono, who was in town to see me a few weeks ago, and who I dragged my friend Sandy to see at a nice intimate concert for 100,000 people at FedEx Field (rant about massive and overpriced, overproduced concerts held for future post) and she has the incriminating photos to prove it (so she says, anyway; ¿Dónde está?, Sandy??!):

The Rest of the Dextro ITU Sprint Triathlon Story

I was—thankfully—in the last swim wave (thankfully, since that meant there wouldn't be anyone behind me who would swim over me, see how I think?) set for 6:45 a.m. Sunday morning. Transition closed at 6, so I got there at 4:30, which meant? I woke up at 3:30 a.m.

O'dark thirty in transition.

Maryland Girl and me at the a**crack of dawn.

That is just so very very wrong.

We were all concerned about the condition of the Potomac River since it had been raining nonstop for what seemed like decades. Saturday was packet picket, again at a hotel a million miles away from transition, with a mandatory pre-race meeting, and a rather sad and dismal expo. I really don't get these meetings. I think the only thing I learned was that there wouldn't be any kind of transport back to transition on race day, which meant getting up early and parking at the hotel, and taking the shuttle down to transition, so that after the race we could walk back to the hotel, get the car, and try to drive back to transition to get all my crap. I'm saying the fifth discipline in triathlon is logistics (the fourth is eating).

Saturday, June 20, 2009, Potomac River, looking towards Virginia. The sun finally broke through.

Anywho, there was 'sposed to be a practice swim after packet pickup and bike racking, but it was canceled because of thunderstorm warnings. Number One Daughter's BF had been on the river early Saturday morning and was very skeptical that there would be a swim in such conditions—rough current and tons of debris. He said he saw a few tires float by. Way to freak me out KB!


Didn't see any tires, but plenty of debris.

I wasn't quite sure which would be worse: Having this thing turn into a duathlon (please don't make me run twice!) or, having to swim. And it wasn't swimming in the Potomac that scared me, it was, well, just swimming.

The course: Straight, left before the bridge, swim parallel to the bridge, another left and straight back to the dock. Easy-peazy!




The sun is up and I am so ready.

SWIM: 20:51 (2:47/100m) Despite all my weeks and months of training, I'm still pretty much convinced every time I get in the pool that I will suck. As we queued up and waited for the 10 waves before us to go off (6 Olympic waves and 5 Sprint) I tried not to think about a single thing except putting one foot in front of the other. This (mostly) worked.

Soon we jumped or slid into the water, which was a lovely 72F, but very murky. Treaded water for three minutes, the horn blew and we were off.

Sighting was pretty easy. Keep the shore to your right, head for the bridge. I probably over-sighted (?) looking up every 3-6 strokes. I was wearing a new wetsuit and for some reason my legs felt very constricted. I kind of knew I should be kicking at least a little (the ghost of Coach Tammy screaming in my ear to "USE. YOUR. LEGS.") but I just couldn't manage it. I also have just GOT to learn that there is a difference between swimming in a triathlon and driving a car. (What, you think that's obvious? Don't judge.) In a car, for instance, when someone wants to merge, I generally slow down and wave them in. And it turns out? In a triathlon when someone is swimming in front of me and I am gaining on them? I should really NOT SLOW DOWN AND WAVE THEM IN. I should ROLL THE HELL OVER THEM if need be.

Sigh.

I didn't hyperventilate, but I was breathing hard, telling myself this was really NOT the time to review the recent spate of stories about how all deaths in triathlon occur during the swim (seriously, this is what I was thinking), wondering if I'd have time to scream.

Sigh.

SHAKE IT OFF, sister!

Soon enough, I was hauling my bad self up the ramp, and taking my sweet time walking back to transition.

T1: 4:34 A funny thing happened in T1. Well, first, there were still bikes there, so that's funny peculiar right there. My bike was in the very very very VERY last rack, as far from the swim as possible but right next to the bike out. Wetsuit off, goggles off, dry feet, put sock on left foot, put sock on right...c'mon, you can do it, just raise that foot a little higher, bend over, COME ON YOU'VE BEEN PUTTING ON SOCKS FOR UM, YEARS NOW!! EFF THIS I'M SITTING DOWN! I can no longer bend over, my back is so tight. Who knew?? So I sat on the grass and got my right sock on and then pulled on my bike shoes, except...wait, there's something weird happening in my right shoe. WTF? Is it just my sock bunched up??? YOU DON'T HAVE TIME FOR THIS, JUST LIVE WITH IT IT'S ONLY 12 MILES! Helmet on, sunglasses and go go go.

Bike 20K (12.4 miles): 45:59 (16.2mph): The bike was fantastic. There is no better feeling than being able to ride in the middle of the streets of Washington. The Olympic and Sprint races were concurrent, so it was also just lovely not being alone. D.C. Tri was everywhere. We owned this race! They were ringing cowbells on every corner or handing out water or taking photos, or, if racing, never failed to shout "Go D.C. Tri!" as they passed me. It was awesome. D.C. Rainmaker passed me a few times on the bike like I was standing still, and even though he was busy tossing his cookies, he still managed a "Go D.C. Tri"...awwww. So I went, and got me my fastest bike split ever. I even passed a few people. Yay me.

T2 2:10: A funnier thing happened in T2. I racked my bike, took off my helmet, took off my left shoe, took off my right shoe and saw...ewwww..wtf is that brown stuff on the bottom of my sock on no it's not oh yes it is THERE'S A GU WRAPPER STUCK INSIDE MY RIGHT BIKE SHOE! AN OPEN USED GU WRAPPER. Did someone casually toss a gu wrapper on the ground in T1 RIGHT INTO MY BIKE SHOE??? Apparently, they did.

Sigh.

I stuck the camera in my jersey, grabbed my cell phone, and pulled on my running shoes. Somehow? I managed to become more limber AFTER the ride, so I didn't need to sit down to put my shoes on like I'm 100 years old. Go figure.

RUN 35:32 (11:28 min./mile): Let the record reflect that this is the Very Same Girl who started the year by going sub-30 in the 5k. This is the Very Same Girl who threw down an 8:50 min mile in the mile race just a few short months ago! And yes, this Very Same Girl had one goal and one goal only on this run: Do. Not. Walk. I don't care if you "run" 12 minute miles, just don't walk. Yay, me, I did it. Since I'd done only two half-assed bricks since last year, this was a good thing.

The finish was nowhere near transition, so that's why I grabbed the camera and the phone. I figured I could run 5k with a phone in my hand. A phone that was TURNED OFF, let me state for the record. Not my prettiest 5k but I knew it would be over soon. Plus, I kept passing my D.C. Tri peeps again! I gotta tell you: When you live in (or in my case near) the big bad city, and you're in a fairly sizeable (ok, not huge) race, and every 200 meters someone calls out your name, you start to feel, well, well-known! It takes a village, people!!!

The End!

Afterparty! Volunteer at the ITU professional race water stop!

Is this Brownlee?

Even Stupid People Know to Come In Out of the Rain

Another chapter in the long-playing saga of Not Born to Run.

A 12-mile run was scheduled on Saturday...unless there was a New Triathlete Program bike ride, which I had volunteered to help out on, but which was going to be canceled if the weather turned yucky...

So I figured the bike ride was canceled on Saturday morning, since it was raining and 30F AND windy. A trifecta of crap! A crapecta! Bike ride off, 12 mile run on! I pulled on my running duds, got in the elevator, went down to the front door, opened it, stepped outside...and no. No way. Back in the elevator, back upstairs, right to my door. Stop. "C'mon! You can DO this! You've done it a million times before!" Back to the elevator, back downstairs, out the front door, this time down the steps, where I stood there...and No. Way. Not Happening.

Back upstairs and into a toasty warm bed.

Too bad the bike ride was actually ON. I had now effectively skipped two workouts. This? Made me cranky.

It's possible that I was tired. (Have I mentioned before that I'm TIRED?? Thanks for all your fine, fine advice!) It didn't help that my neighbors have all decided to go beserk at the same time. Friday night, my downstairs neighbors decided to stand on the balcony--JUST BELOW the window that my bed is against—and SMOKE, and talk and yell at the top of their lungs. We called the cops not once, but three times. It's possible that someone in my apartment leaned over my balcony and yelled at them. Just to make sure they knew exactly who called the cops.

Sigh.

Sunday dawned bright and clear and chilly, after another night of different neighbors going beserk on their balcony, so I had to sweet-talk myself into getting at least 10 miles done. I brought Phedippidations along with me—I've been running iPod-less for the past year at least, so this was a big treat—and I got 'er done. Number One Daugher and I had a lovely Easter, and I ate about 10 lbs of chocolate.

My fifth swim lesson was this morning. My instructor had me swimming on my back with fins, working on my kick, and? I was drowning. I mentioned this to her, and she said, "I'm not really concerned with that right now, I'm concentrating on your kick." She cracks me up. She's been timing my 50s, which is freaking nerve-wracking, and in one week I went from 1:04s to :53s. Of course I'm tossing up a lung at the end.

Tuesday night is my last track workout in the Speed Dev Program! My how time ... sort of flies. Not really. I both look forward to and loathe the end of track. But tomorrow night we have the choice of doing a track workout, or doing the Firebird mile race. Which sounds pretty horrifying. I need some solid advice from the masses. Crowdsource me. Take my handy dandy poll:

Online Surveys & Market Research

On Track and Asleep

Only two weeks left in the Montgomery County Road Runners Speed Development program—a 15-looooooooooooooong week program.

And I only missed two track workouts—once due to calf crampage and once due to my teeth.

Our coach told us Tuesday night that he had received more than 50 e-mails from people who ran Cherry Blossom and who PR'dd—the most PRs this group has ever set. If you live in/near Montgomery County and want to get faster, this program is the way to do it. He wrote me and said, "So you have a 1/2 marathon, 10m and 10k PR in the span of two weeks, that's awesome!"

Blush.

So by Tuesday night, my right calf was a little tight from Sunday's Cherry Blossom, and Monday morning's ass-kicking swim instruction, where despite my protestations that I was fatigued, my swimming instructor made no allowances. By Tuesday night, the temp had dropped from 70F on Sunday to 30F. In fact, when I got to the track, it was actually snowing.

4x800 was on the sked. An easy night! My Interval goal time: 5:00.

1st 800: 4:31
R 3:10
2nd 800: 4:40
R 3:10
3rd 800: 4:34
R 3:01
4th 800: 4:46
R 3:46

No question, I'm getting faster. I wish this program continued throughout the summer, cuz you know there's no way I'm doing track work on my own. You've met me, right?

Our goal race, the culmination of ALL this effort, is the Pike's Peek 10k, which is a net downhill course, where people set mad crazy PRs. My insane goal is to do it in 1 hour. I have some other goals as back ups (2 hours, upright, etc.). I have no idea why we're running 12 miles in anticipation of a 10k race tomorrow. Which is why I might just skip tomorrow and instead get on that neglected thing called a B-I-K-E.

Thursday I did 1500 yards in the pool, with all kinds of crazy swim things. Swimming is kicking my ass. Friday (today) I slept in.

So my total HalfIronmanProgram workouts this week? I ran 5 miles on Tuesday (well plus 10 on Sunday) and swam 1500 on Thursday. This does not a HIPster make.

So Tired

I'm sure it's just mental, but I've been going to bed at 8:30 and getting decent sleep and waking up exhausted. I coulda/shoulda taken the bike out today, after attending Good Friday service. Instead I came home and went directly to bed.

What the hell is happening? Am I finally feeling my age? Am I getting sick? Why can't I workout like I did last year?? It's making me depressed.

Swim, Bike, Run

Life gets busy fast.

Saturday I did 8 miles with the Speed Development Group, and it was very good, if not very fast. I felt great at the end.

Sunday: It was 74F!!! Gorgeous day. Number One Daughter and I started by looking at a lovely house on Capitol Hill—for her and her friends to live in (sans Mom. A big mistake if you ask me but no one is asking me.). It was a beautifully renovated old rowhouse with a front porch swing, directly across from a Safeway and within walking distance of two Metro stops. We fell in love! I asked the owners how they would decide amongst the applicants, and was told, "First come, first served." We were first! This thing was In. The. Bag.!! NOD gave him all her deets and then waited for the confirmation e-mail.

Which never came.

Instead she got a "We regret to inform you" letter. Like it was a job interview! We wracked our brains for what we could have/should have done differently. I can only surmise that the owners decided to rent to a nice professional couple instead of three nice girls one year out of college.

I honestly don't know how anyone on a budget finds housing. It's insane.

Sunday afternoon: Bike ride in Rock Creek Park. Got a flat before I left the parking lot. Sigh. Still, I remembered how to change it, and I remembered how to ride. All good.

Monday: Swim lesson #3! I love my instructor, sort of the way you fall in love with your captors (see: Stockholm syndrome). My arms are still sore two days later. She said, "You wouldn't like it if I went easy on you." I could have argued the point.

Monday night: Handbell practice! Handbells, swimming, running. Many many parallels. Hold your breath, breathe, focus, tempo! Don't stop 'til the end.

Tuesday: 4 miles on treadmill at 5:30 cuz I had to miss track Tuesday night cuz I had to go to the dentist. To find out that I need another crown, AND? An implant. $$$$$$$$$$$$$$$. Apparently the implant process takes about a year to complete, and in the meantime, you get to wear a denture. Fun times. I honestly don't know where I'm going to get the money. Time to emigrate. I hear Botswana is nice.

Tuesday night: After the dentist, what could be better than a trip to Hell Home Depot? Our kitchen guy came with us and we picked everything out. We're getting the cheapest in-stock cabinets, the cheapest vinyl flooring, and trying to figure out what the best/cheapest thing is to do for counters. (I have 25 square feet of countertop.)

Tuesday late night: All I can say is that Kelly is insane. Go Bethenny.

Wednesday morning: Slept in! Swimming on tap for tonight.

Update on Germany: I got turned down for an entry-level copy-editing job where speaking German was not a requirement. No explanation. Mad Fast Thomas makes the compelling argument that he's surrounded by ex-pats in Ireland who have no particular skills, so I could definitely move there! Thanks, I think!

Things can only look up, right?

Anyone Seen My Triathlon Training Around Here?

So, I went and hired myself a swim coach, and she's awesome. We meet at 6:00 a.m. Monday mornings, and for 45 minutes she tells me stuff like: press your "T", rotate from your hips, watch your breathing, don't cross the midline, TRY KICKING EVERY NOW AND THEN, and? Move the water! "Can you FEEEEL the water??," she asks. "You need to FEEEEEL the water!" It takes every bit of control to resist saying, "I'm in a POOL."

I crack myself up.

My second swim lesson was yesterday morning, and I don't know what I was doing all last year, but I'm pretty sure I was not swimming because holy mother of god, I'm getting introduced to muscles I have never met before.

Apparently I've never kicked before in my life. Apparently all those books that say triathletes should not worry about kicking? I took them a leetle too seriously.

And? I don't pull. At all.

So yesterday I learned to kick. And pull.

I was sore afterwards but in a good way.

I could NOT wait to get in the pool today to try my first HIPster*^TM pool workout using my newly acquired skills. Not only had I learned new skills, I had also learned how to read a workout. It's like a foreign language:

Workout 2B, 1400 yds
Warm up: 500 choice

50 swim
100 negative split
150 swim/drill/swim by 50
100 negative split
150 swim/drill/swim by 50
100 negative split
50 swim
Rest :30

100 pull, DPS
100 kick, build each 50

Cool down

The best part is I know what everything means!

Just for kicks I timed my 100s and they were all in the 2:30 range which is quite thrilling (if still sucky) since just 2 weeks ago they were in the 3:30+ range.

Afterwards I went to work and ate a bunch of crap because I was so proud of myself. (Way to reward yourself, Jeanne.)

But today is Tuesday and that stands for track with a capital T and that stands for Trouble.

After my awesome swim in the a.m. and my awesome (if screwy) race on Saturday, I had completely convinced myself that I deserved to take tonight off. But the fear factor kicked in just in time. I came home and before I could think about it changed into running duds and off I went.

6x800 at interval pace = 5:00; plus 2x200 at race pace = 1:05.

WE DID NOT FEEL LIKE DOING THIS. WE DECIDED WE WOULD JUST DO 4x800 and go home.

I ran with two girls who slipped away from me because their recovery and threshold paces were the same. I was honestly going to throw in the towel, if not throw up, just because I deserved to, when another chick, Jenn, came alongside me and said she was doing 6 repeats and well, that was that. It takes so little to talk me into things. Don't ever offer me drugs, k?

GOAL: 800 @ 5:00

1) 4:46
2) 4:56
3) 5:00
4) 4:57
5) 5:13
6) 4:47

200: 1:05
200: 1:05

Tomorrow is spin class. Too cold to ride outside at 6 a.m. Although eventually I will have to actually get on a bike again. I'm guessing.

P.S. D.C. Spinster (aka Peter) was just elected president of the DCRR club! Read his speech here, and leave him some comment love.

^*D.C. Tri Half Ironman Program (HIP)

Who's Your Mama???

So I've been struggling with my swimming.

As with running, I can swim forever as long as you don't ask me to go fast. Unfortunately, they have these pesky little cut-off times in triathlons. The NJ Triathlon swim is 1.5 K (which I JUST looked up and found out equals 1640 yards), and you have to finish it in 1 hour and 15 min.

Easy peasy eh?

So I've been trudging to the pool twice a week, and swimming sets of 100s (I go to one of two pools: one is 25 meters, one is 25 yards. These details matter, people, trust me).

And I've been timing myself. And it's been looking like this:
2:56 (per 100 meters)
3:02
3:02
2:52

and blah blah like that. For a bazillion meters. I can't get faster. I'm toooo slow. Wah wah wah.

And these two tri chicks have been trying, like for-evah, to 'splain swimming to me. To no avail.

But last night My Life Changed. And all because a D.C. Tri nutrition clinic I dragged myself to didn't happen. The nutritionist got stuck in traffic, so we all hung around waiting and I started chatting with a woman who is a Swimmer. Capital S.

Of course I instantly started up my auto-whining and whinging to her and she starting explaining this and that including the concept of "descending." And you know what "descending" means? It means "go faster with each rep." Which normal running people know as the concept of "negative splits."

Finally L. asked me if I had a piece of paper (of course not, let's be real), so another friend donated her Victoria's Secret receipt (you can't make this stuff up, I promise) and on the back of it, L. came up with a workout for this morning's swim.

"But I can't possibly remember all that!," I wailed.

"What you do is you take this here receipt, you WET it, and you SLAP it on a kickboard which you then leave at the end of your lane."

Well hell's bells.

To make a long story longer, and this might not mean anything to non-swimmers (it barely means anything to me except I THINK I'm catching on!), I did this, 1400 yards, my first time EVER this morning (after waking up an hour early by mistake because I screwed up my clock when I set it last night so instead of getting up at 5:30 I got up at 4:30. And wondered if the sun had finally burnt itself out because there was no sunrise. Sigh.) Onward!

200 warm up

4 x 100
2:48
2:38
2:24
2:24

4x75
1:59
2:11 (??)
1:44
1:40

4x50
1:20
1:18
1:08
1:04

4x25
40
36
31
31

100 technique
2:35

100 easy
3:12

I. Did. It.

In 38 minutes! 1400 yards. And I did it descending, too!

I might not have learned how to eat correctly last night but I learned a more important lesson: I ROCK!

Amanda Beard can bite me.

Conspiracy

I have a half-marathon to run on Sunday. Have I mentioned that (I mean, you know, like more than 20 or so times)?

In preparation, I ran four miles this week. F-O-U-R. Well, it's too late now! My personal mantra. It's. Too. Late. Now.

Swimming? Did someone ask about swimming? I LOVE THE SWIM! I'm swimming twice a week. So far just doing the same old 1,000 yards in the gorgeous outdoor YMCA pool. When I went this week, on Tuesday, snow flurries were floating down. The steam was rising from the water. I caught glimpses of the moon still high in the sky. As I swam, the light slowly broke. It's seriously gorgeous. Sometimes I think I'm actually getting better. Sometimes, I feel a twinge of regret when my last few laps come around and I wish I could swim longer, but work beckons.

I can honestly say I have NEVER wanted any run, EVER, to last longer. This is because somebody obviously does NOT want me to enjoy the run and does everything in their power to make sure I suck at it. (I'm really liking this explanation.) It quite obviously has nothing to do with my lack of training. Obviously.

So, this week, I ran F-O-U-R miles on Monday, swam on Tuesday, nothing on Wednesday (it snowed! dreadmill at work is broken, like I'd use it anyway), Thursday, spinning (another religious experience where I engage in a rich fantasy life), and here we are are today, Friday. Should I run today? Will it make any difference on Sunday whether or not I ran today?

Maybe it would be smarter to rest? Resting sounds smart, doesn't it? Especially since the PLANTAR FASCIITIS in my right foot is getting harder and harder to ignore. I've been ignoring it for months. Now, somewhat suspiciously, all of a sudden, it's screaming at me when I walk. Sometimes, when I sit.

I took the morning off from swimming so I could run. But then I couldn't run because I had to take the car in to get new tires. (This is the third time I've had tire problems just prior to a visit to Susie. Coincidence? I think not!) So, no swim, no run. Of course I could run later today. That's a possibility. But then there's the PF to think about. (This is why I don't twitter—I mean, could you imagine the endless stream that is my thought process going out over the Internets?? Well, yes, I'm guessing you actually could imagine.)

I don't know exactly who is in charge of running, but I am officially registering a complaint. Just so you know that I know exactly what is going on.

Collision Course

When's the last time you collided, headfirst, with a 11-12 year-old kid with Down Syndrome? and it was YOUR fault?

Um, could it be NEVER? Would NEVER be the right answer??

Day three of my swim extravanganza. So far, (that would be the past two times), I've been sharing the if-it-were-any-slower-you'd-be-walking lane with a kid with Down Syndrome. He's awesome. His coach walks alongside the lane; this kid is a machine. He just goes and goes. Since there's just the two of us, we each take 1/2 of one lane, swimming up and down our half.

Half-way thru this morning's swim, some guy--in a blue speedo, of course--asks if he can share the lane. I say sure. This means we now have to circle swim--up one side, down the other. So I start doing that. Until this kid's coach asks me if I want to keep doing it. I say, well, aren't there three of us now? "Err, no," he says.

(Remember I can't see? I need to get those prescription goggles, or something soon, before I wreak more havoc.)

Apparently blue-speedo guy asked me to circle swim and then left the lane without telling me.

No problem.

I go back to swimming in my 1/2 lane. No more circling.

This morning was tougher than last week. I think because it was light out at 6:15. I don't like seeing what i'm doing wrong. There was sputtering, and panic, and anxiety. I was trying to relax--but don't stop that counting!--and I got into a groove a few times.

If you recall, bad things happen when I relax.

This morning, as I'm relaxing, getting into the groove, dreaming of swimming in the Schuykill, I relaxed right back into circle swimming. Which, if you recall, we were now NOT doing. I neglected to tell my little friend though, who of course was doing his workout PERFECTLY. Bastard!

And...ka-boom. I hit the poor kid right in the face.

But really. I mean REALLY! He stopped, looked at me, and continued.

I sputtered, muttered I'm sorry, my fault, over and over like a mantra.

Me=Grown Up Adult Who Knows What She Is Doing.

Him=Kid With Down Syndrome Who Now Knows Never to Trust Adults.

*******
UPDATE: Don't forget to tell us why you blog. Lot of interesting answers so far.

Real World

Well, it's finally happened. The real world has taken over my virtual life.

I had my First Date in, oh, five years, with rower guy last Wednesday, after work, downtown. The short version: We met at a bookstore, it was raining, had coffee, he talked about himself and I didn't. He was very nice, but didn't get my jokes. I consider the date a total success because I learned, after much agonizing and e-mailing of girlfriends, that shoes don't matter. It's true!! So it's not like it was a waste of time or anything.

That's one down, 99 men to go!

Then came:

Saturday a.m.: First day of 1/2 marathon training with the newly formed informal DCRR training group. They were doing three miles. It was raining. I ain't driving 20 miles to run three. I turned over and slept til 8.

Spent the entire morning searching for a restaurant for this group
(R to L: Peter, surrounded by women as usual. K., Bex, moi.)
to celebrate Peter and K's Chicago victories, and Bex's new job and visit to D.C. We ended up at Tallulah: modern. hip. classy. That sums us up nicely. But before Saturday night, there was Saturday Noon. In which your heroine drives to the YMCA where she ... JOINS. I have spent months hemming and hawing about where to swim. They have an outdoor year-round pool at this Y and a special deal where the first month and the membership fee was waived. It was a sign.

Saturday night: Pajama party with Bex. It was wild. We might have had cups of tea. Hard to recall.

Sunday morning: Up at 7 a.m. to get ready for the Marine Corps Marathon. Bex had the brilliant idea to give out candy. So we bought six bags of candy and went from Mile 13 to 15 to 21 to 23 to 24—where the death march began.

(Bex is obviously starving. Those runners look perfectly fine!)

("Alms! Alms for the poor!")

("Take some! It's candy! Really! It's good!")

We both got told "I love you" from different runners. (Can't remember if they were male or female. No matter!) Seriously, I was touched by the runners who, at mile 24, while obviously struggling, took the time to say "No thank you" or just "Thank you." Like we were at the dinner table. I mean really. I remember my first marathon at mile 24 and if I'd had a gun ... well, nevermind. Who knew handing out candy could be so fun?? I also handed out words of wisdom because, well, that's how we roll here at NBTR headquarters. You eat the candy, you get the sermon: "This is your race!" "You own this race!" "Make it count!" and my personal favorite: "It's all mental from here!" to which someone said "All runners are mental?" Well, you said it buster, not I. See more pics here.)

From there, Bex and I walked 26.2 miles to another subway; she headed off to visit some other peeps; I headed off to a lead a hike with my church group, along the C&O Canal near Great Falls, which I was NOT looking forward to, but, which of course, turned out to be fun. After the hike it was yet ANOTHER dinner out at the Irish Inn at Glen Echo. I got home just in time to catch the next installment of Mrs. Pritchard—thank God.

Monday 5:30 a.m.: Day One of Triathlon training! Be very afraid. Cuz I was.

There are so many steps along the way to triathlon training that people forget to tell you. Like:
1. Join pool
2. Get bikini wax

So yeah, I forgot #2. Oh well, turns out it's pitch black dark at 5:30. Oh, also there's
3. Buy swim cap
4. Buy goggles.

So I bought 3 and 4 from the guy on duty (I stopped short of #2).

I headed outside in the 45F moonlit morn, and slid into the pool. And dang, if I didn't remember how to swim! I did 15 x 50. Or 30 x 25 (I'm still learning to speak pool). Took about 1/2 hour. I am blind as a bat so there's
5. Get contact lenses immediately.

That's gonna be some $$$. Contact me (get it??!) if you can donate any used ones.

Monday night: Out to bell-ringing practice (that's after Monday day working. Goes without saying, but I have to keep saying it). Home at 10 p.m.

Tuesday 5:30 a.m.: Run! Four miles! In the dark! Again with the 45F! It felt good. I threw in a few fartleks just for fun. I really love running in the dark. It makes you feel faster.

Work ass off all day.

Go out on yet another worknight to see "I Love You. You're Perfect. Now Change." With a friend.

Start experiencing computer withdrawal. Get home at 10:30, which is akin to midnight.

That brings us FINALLY to

Wednesday 5:30 a.m.: Back to the pool! Same beautiful moonlit morn. Steam rising off the pool. Same laps. I'm practicing bilateral breathing (that's how triathletes say breathe on one side, then on the other), and today I tried to count my strokes. a.j., who unbeknownest to all of us, was some kind of swim champion freak genuis in high school, has been answering my endless stream (get it??) of idiot swimming questions. (aj also sent me free pedals! she rocks!)

For instance, NO ONE TELLS YOU THERE IS MATH INVOLVED IN SWIMMING. NO ONE. Count strokes so you know when to breathe; count strokes to swim one length; count lengths; count laps (btw? laps are TOTALLY different from lengths), count this, count that.

Lose count. Start over.


I LOVE SWIMMING. Love it. I've never had so much energy.

The rest of my week, you ask? Spinning tomorrow morning and then probably running Friday and Saturday. I've got to get my run on! Apparently, after one too many, I inadvertently might have agreed to run this with Susie. I'm sure this is a set up, cuz I just decided to run this the week before! God help me.

Next up: Biking with Jeanne!