May 20 - Gateway Olympic Triathlon

On May 20^th, I participated in the Gateway Olympic Triathlon at Lake Carlyle, Illinois. I won’t be so bold as to say I raced it, that term is reserved for people who actually race, but I will call it a successful event.

 In 2011, this race was my first Olympic distance triathlon. I really had no idea know what to expect. I had done a handful of sprint distances and my training had been adequate.  The swim went fine although I got winded a few times and had to do take a few breaks to collect myself. Once out of the water, my heart rate skyrocketed and pretty much stayed stuck in overdrive for the duration of the event. This was aggravated by an asthma attack. In retrospect, this probably wasn’t entirely due to the pollen and exercise but more a factor of the hotel I stayed at. There was someone smoking in the room next to me (is that even legal in Illinois????) and I woke in the night feeling like I was being suffocated.  So breathing  was compromised from the beginning.  Oh, and it was hotter than hell.  I finished but the whole experience just kind of sucked and I was ready to hang it up.

So the goal for 2012 was to  keep the breathing under control, stay calm, and see if allergy/asthma meds could keep the airways open.  I drove down on Saturday with Reindeer Mary’s husband, Troy. This was to be his first Olympic distance triathlon.  We met up with Mike Ransick and tried  out the swim course, which had been changed up a bit. The water felt pretty good in my wetsuit although I saw a couple of people opting to swim without. Of course this set off a spiral of doubt in my mind --- should I just leave the wetsuit in the car? Will I overheat? Do I really need it?  Why didn't I bring a sleeveless?

In the end I opted to wear the wetsuit. The swim was great, I didn’t really need to stop and rest this time and my sighting was good.  Lake Carlyle is a very large lake, not very deep, and the water was murky but more of an emerald green than the silty brown you would normally see in Illinois. The course had been changed to more of a rectangle and you kept the buoys on your left. I did get clobbered pretty hard on the last stretch by a guy who was zig zagging.  I just could not seem to get out of his way. At the beach, I sat down in the shallow water and peeled out of the wetsuit, as I had done at Racine. Something about getting some water in the suit makes it easier to remove. Naturally my suit promptly got caught on the timing chip and this small delay added probably another minute to my swim time. Maybe more. But it was all good, I treated spectators to a comical display of how not to remove a wetsuit and then sheepishly trotted up the hill to transition.
Heart rate spiked a bit going into transition so I walked to my bike and just tried to keep things real. Took a hit of albuterol before setting out and made sure to take sips of water every mile. There are a couple of somewhat challenging hills on this course that seemed more manageable this year.  Over the winter, I spent some quality time on the trainer doing Sufferfest workouts, and I think this interval training paid off in easier hill climbing for me. 

The run was tough. I knew it would be hot and decided from the start that I would Gallowalk the whole thing. And I did.  This strategy paid off with a faster time than 2011. 

All in all I shaved just under 5 minutes off my 2011 time, but more importantly enjoyed the race.   

Post Race Meal – I grabbed a small sub sandwich and ate the meat and cheese, not really hungry enough for all of the bread. By the time our group was packed up, everyone was hungry. We stopped at Kahunas in Greenville for some serious cheeseburgers.

May 3 Ride

Went out with Steve for a ride this evening. Stopped at the Covered Bridge in Glenarm and got this shot of me with LaPina. Would not have attempted this with my mountain bike.

Enjoying the Moment

The 2012 triathlon season is now underway and my first race, the Sullivan Sprint, is behind me. This winter I spent a lot of time focusing on my swim and this was reflected in a two minute improvement over my 2010 effort. Funny how excited I got over two minutes.

My next race is the Gateway Olympic at Lake Carlyle, Illinois. But enough about racing. Sometimes in our quest to follow some ordained training schedule, it's easy to stop living in the moment and find pleasure in the simple act of exercise. I find that I get so wrapped up in getting the workout in, that I forget what this is all about, which is the pursuit of a hobby that I enjoy.

And so in the spirit of living in the moment, for the month of May I am going to find some small pleasant fact about each and every workout. And just maybe someday in the future, when training is no longer fun, I will come back here and reread these posts as a reminder.

May 1 - This morning I went for a run. There were quarter mile repeats included in this, which are never easy, nor should they be. Then a couple of miles in Zone 2. I jogged into the heart of Chatham down Route 4 and passed between McDonalds and Hardees. Even though it was just barely 5 a.m., the smells of hash browns wafting from the two fast food eateries was pure pleasure.

This evening I took my old Cannondale out for a spin. We have been having some serious thunderstorms and I had doubts about going very far from home, so I kept it close by following some small country roads that wound through the neighboring cornfields.

Central Illinois may lack hills and thick forests, but there's a certain lonely beauty to the vast farm fields. I had to stop and snap a pic.

Rock N Roll St. Petersburg - First Race of 2012

OK, so I am behind on blogging. I started this race report back in February. The first race of the year was the inaugural Rock N Roll Half Marathon in St. Petersburg, Florida in February. This was my annual Girls’ Trip to Florida. Normally we run the Gasparilla Half Marathon but felt that maybe we would go out on a limb and try something different. The last couple of months have been busy with family stuff, the weather in Illinois has been crap, and I hadn’t seen my running buddy Karen since Thanksgiving, so I was really looking forward to getting away, even if only for three days.

Half the Fun is Getting There

Rather than drive to St. Louis, we opted to try DirectAir out of Capital Airport in Springfield. There’s something appealing about simply parking your car and walking a few hundred yards to the terminal. It beats the hell out of driving 1 ½ hours on the interstate, parking in a desolate lot, hauling luggage to a shuttle, riding the shuttle with a bunch of other travelers to the terminal, spending half an hour going through security and then having to haul everything for what seems to be at least a mile to the gate.

It was bitter cold and a little icy when we got to the airport. Reindeer Mary rode with me and we snagged what was probably the last available parking spot at the airport. Froze our asses hauling our luggage up to the terminal. Stood in line for boarding passes. Stood in line through security. Stood in line for Subway sandwiches. Found our friend Penny, who was going to Florida to do some condo shopping.

The flight was delayed for unknown reasons so we were an hour late boarding. Based on what I have heard about this airline, that was probably some kind of record in efficiency. I had an aisle seat in the row in front of Reindeer Mary and two rows back from Penny. There were babies on the plane. 

Flying into Lakeland, the plane pitched and bucked through a thunderstorm. It was the first time I have ever been on a plane during a thunderstorm and it was not all that much fun. There was some pretty exciting lighting outside and driving rain. Karen was waiting for us in the lobby and we dashed through the downpour to her car. I noticed that it was really not very warm.
How Much to Park Here?
Saturday we drove over to the expo at the Tropicana Dome in St. Petersburg. We had to pay $15 to park at the stadium, which was a bunch of crap because it was already an expensive race. Karen had to buy a $10 parking permit for race day as well. And then because the finish was some distance from the start, you also had to purchase a "shuttle pass" for $5 to get back to your car.
Expo was great, we killed a couple of hours there. I bought one of those hand-held water bottle thingeys and let Reindeer Mary and Karen talk me into parting with $65 for a Day-glo yellow Brooks sleeveless running vest. I will say that this was a great investment but jeez...it didn't even have the Rock N Roll logo on it. I loved the zip-up pockets all over the thing.
Karen drove us all down to Pass-a Grill and we had lunch. It was unbelievably cold and windy at this point, way too cold to walk the beach. The only consolation was that it was colder back home in Illinois. I had a great grouper sandwich and a couple of margaritas. Things were getting off to a great start.
With temps predicted to be in the 30s for the start of the race, the topic of the evening was cobbling together a cold weather outfit from Karen's stash of winter running attire that she had hauled down to Florida. She found some of those little knit gloves and a pair of tights that I could borrow. Karen is 5'2" and I am 5'8", so capri length on Karen just barely covered my knees. Still it was better than nothing.
Reindeer Mary made skillet lasagna, which is basically lasagna made in a skillet on the stovetop. It tasted just like regular lasagna and was quite simple to make.
I slept on the couch in Karen's living room. There is a rather large picture window in this room and during the night I could hear the wind screaming and see the tree branches whipping back and forth. Things were not looking real promising weather wise.
Temps were in the 30s with a wind chill in the high 20s on race morning. We piled into Karen's PT Cruiser and drove over to St. Pete. Found a parking spot at the Tropicana and sat there in the dark watching the palm trees being lashed by the wind. Ugh...With 45 minutes to race start, we made two trips to the porta potties. Standing in line was brutal. It was just so f'ing cold.
The race went off without a hitch. It was early in the season so no way would this be a PR race, but a girl can always hope. I hung with Karen the first three miles but had to hit the porta potty AGAIN around the 5K mark. That added about 5 minutes to my time, so then I had the "oh well, it's just a training run" mentality.
The race course was beautiful and once the sun was up, the temps warmed SLIGHTLY. I found a good sized older gentleman to tuck in behind and kind of drafted off him for miles. With him blocking the cutting wind, I actually started to think I might be able to salvage this race.
Around mile 9 or 10 the course took you out onto the famous St. Petersburg pier. On a better day this would have been very cool but now it was just cold and windy and exposed to the ocean. And it was here that my big draft-buddy started fading. I went around him and at that exact moment he stubbed his foot on a plank and started to fall. There was a young woman on his right side and somehow both she and I caught hold of him and kind of turned him so that he at least fell onto his side and did not face plant.
Shaken, the man got up and we hung around for a few seconds to make sure he was all right. He thanked us profusely.  It was the least I could do after shamelessly using him as a human shield for miles.
My windbreak was gone and I was getting tired. I saw Karen at mile 11 on one of those out and back sections where you can see people who are running the opposite way. She was looking really strong and possibly geared for a PR. I was half frozen.
I jogged it in and finished in a most unimpressive 2:40.  Reindeer Mary and Karen found me and we got mylar blankets and went to go listen to Flo Rida, the feature band. Beer lines were long, tooooooo long, and even with the sun out, it was miserably cold.
We piled back in the PT Cruiser and hit McDonalds on the way back to Karen's. French fries are a great way to get some hot food and salt.
The rest of the weekend was pretty low key. Of course the day we flew back to Illinois, the weather improved and was up in the 70s in Florida.

Cat Ear Crud

This is not the face of a contented cat. if you look closely you can see hands restraining BeeBee following a rigorous ear cleansing ritual at Coble Animal Hospital today that unearthed quite a cache of nasty ear goo and the makings of a yeast infection.

I knew there was something not quite right with her, she always ignores me but for the last two weeks it went a little beyond ignoring, it was more like she couldn't hear things. And she had that bewildered lost look of a creature that is disoriented and doesn't quite know what to do or where to go.

So it's ear drops for BeeBee for the next two weeks. Yeah me! Administering medicine of any kind to this cat usually requires creative restraint methods and then I worry she will kill me in my sleep.

On the training side, I am reading the Book "Call the Suit" by Sheila Taormina, an Olympic swimmer who conducts clinics around the world. I'm only into the first two chapters but already am excited by the fresh approach. I learned to swim in 2008 at a class at the Y taught by a good friend. It used Total Immersion as the basis and it got me from someone who couldn't swim 10 yards to a somewhat competent, if slow, freestyle swimmer. I've been at a plateau for about a year, never getting any faster despite trying to tweak my form. This book focuses more on the pull and the catch than on the position of the body, rotation, etc. so it will be a departure from my usual routine of trying to "swim downhill" and rotating from the core, etc.

Kicking Diet Soda's Ass and the Possibility of Camping

I

I didn't make any New Years resolutions, at least nothing that is blogworthy. I did set a few goals about training, losing weight, blah blah blah. One thing I did decide to work on was kicking the Diet Pepsi habit. I love the stuff. It's not like I'm one of those people who drink it in lieu of coffee and late into the night, no, it's been a one-pepsi-a-day habit for years. Literally years.  It harkens back to the days of yore when I was a smoker and just generally lived an unhealthy lifestyle.

I'm not convinced that diet soda is really all that bad for you but on the other hand, there seems to be a growing body of evidence that it's not all that good for you either.

Here's a shot of me on December 31 swilling away at what hopefully will be my last Diet Pepsi. I'm trying to enjoy drinking plain water with a bit of lime. The dull headache that I predicted would hit me by the end of the first day never materialized.

On a more relevant topic, last night I signed up for the Midwest Women's Mountain Bike Clinic (here's their website) held in Brown County State Park, Nashville, Indiana, June 9-10. Unless I can talk another adventurous soul into signing up, I'll probably be hitting this one solo. And that's ok. It looks like a great get-away kind of weekend.

I struggled with what level to assign myself -- Intro, Beginner, Intermediate or Advanced. I'm probably somewhere between Beginner and Intermediate.  The criteria are as follows:

 Beginner Criteria

* You have been mountain biking for at least one (1) year. CHECK

* You have decent general riding skills and good fitness, but lack the ability and confidence to tackle terrain beyond a beginner level.CHECK

* You have a basic understanding of braking, shifting and steering and can handle riding smooth dirt paths with few rocks, roots and technical areas.CHECK

* You may be looking to improve your fitness and can only handle riding for a few hours before tiring.CHECK

     

Intermediate Criteria

* You have been mountain biking for over two (2) years and have solid intermediate-level skills. ...DEFINITELY NOT SOLID

* You are comfortable with almost all aspects of mountain biking and can handle more technical terrain with rocks, roots and small logs (up to 6"). MMMM, SMALL LOGS ARE OK...

* You have good control of your bike on intermediate to slightly more advanced trail and are comfortable climbing on non-technical singletrack. CHECK

* You are physically fit and can handle riding for several hours at a time. ...UH, ARE THERE BREAKS?

     ~ you must be able to perform a front and rear wheel lift as well as ride logs up to 6" in diameter   REAR WHEEL LIFT??????????? wtf????

Beginner it is. Maybe I'll learn to perform a rear wheel lift.  

Being in a state park, it is suggested and encouraged that clinic participants camp.  In tents. For those who absolutely must have their air conditioning, there are hotel options outside of the park. Let me go on record by stating that I hate tent camping with a passion. Oh sure, it's all fun while you're setting things up --- picking out the spot, fighting to erect the tent, inflating the air mattress.  Then reality sets in. If it's hot, it will be hotter in the tent. Sleeping on an air mattress is hardcore shit. At night it's freezing and if you have to make a bathroom run at 2 a.m., it's generally to a building lit by a large floodlight that has attracted every species of nocturnal insect ever documented. 

In the morning your stuff is all damp. The campfire that smelled so good last night has permeated everything you brought with woodsmoke and it reeks. It is damp and smelly. You are damp and smelly.  And when you are finished camping and tear down the tent, it goes into your car and makes the long drive home, stinking up your car with its damp smelliness.  So now your car stinks and there are probably slugs and other such things that hitched a ride on the tent.  

But there is some sort of fun around the campfire after the riding is done that is probably a big part of the culture of the Midwest Women's Mountain Bike Clinic. And I would hate to be the weenie who, at the end of the day, packed up my bike and just left without a bit of socializing.  

So maybe I will have to set my hatred of tent camping aside for this one event. 

Release the Inner Artisan

I've been under the weather this week and as such, have been seeking out comfort food. Next to Mom's meatloaf, nothing screams comfort like home baked bread. Problem is, I've never made it. And I'm on a mission to eat clean, which means most recipes for homemade bread were off limits.

I found a recipe for whole wheat bread that sounded pretty simple. Plus it was "artisan" which implies that this is extra special bread. Perhaps even magical bread. It might have powers. I figured what the hell, I would give it my best shot.

Armed with a recipe printed off the interwebz, I brought out the largest bowl that we own. It's actually for potato chips or popcorn but it would do.  Into this bowl, I mixed the following. Also, the instructions implicitly stated do not knead the dough, just get it mixed up.
1 1/2 packets of yeast
1/2 cup honey
5 TBS oil (I used EVOO)
1/2 tsp sea salt
1 1/2 cups lukewarm water
1 1/2 cups lukewarm milk
6 2/3 cups whole wheat flour

The instructions called for allowing this concoction to rest for exactly one hour and 40 minutes and then place it overnight into the refrigerator, so I covered the bowl with a towel and set it aside. Problem is, I started this venture at 7 o'clock at night. My timing was poor, I was on Nyquil and fading fast. So Steve was entrusted with the task of moving the dough into the basement fridge.

In the morning I retrieved the dough. It had risen slightly and looked a little bit like an oversized wart, crouching in the big bowl. Steve was doubtful and said that it didn't look right.  I got defensive and reminded him that this was ARTISAN bread and it was supposed to look kind of dense and lumpy. I could tell from his confused expression that he did not have a clue what artisan bread was. Just to be sure, I googled the term and found an entire page devoted to explaining this concept.

Two lumpy loaves of dough

Dusted with flour and SLASHED with a serrated knife, the
loaves are ready for the oven.

Mmmmmm...delicious whole wheat bread

I turned the bread out onto a pizza stone in two big lumps and shaped them into loafy forms. Then I dusted the tops with flour and a little oatmeal, slashed (yes, slashed) the top with a serrated knife, and popped them in the oven for 50 minutes, 350 degrees. An important thing to note is that you have to put a broiler pan in the oven on the shelf beneath the bread and just as you are putting the bread in, pour a cup of water into the pan.  I guess it steams the bread.

As the 50 minutes ticked away, I peered through the glass door occasionally, wondering how this experiment was going to turn out. Maybe Steve was right. It looked pretty strange.

But pretty soon that awesome smell of baked bread began to fill the house and the lumps puffed up a bit and began to brown. The bread was a winner. I could hardly wait to let it cool enough to slice it. I had a couple of slices with butter and a bowl of soup for lunch.

The recipe made two pretty good-sized loaves. If you wanted a "deeper" bread that would be easier to toast, you could use a loaf pan and probably increase the baking time somewhat. I think this would be really good with apple butter or strawberry preserves.