I Want To Ride My Bicycle: More Tri (Cramming) Training

I don't believe in Peter Pan, Frankenstein or Superman, but all I want to do is bicycle.

So, I still haven't chickened out on this sprint triathlon (yet). And now I'm five days away from the darn thing, so it's looking like I will see this ̶s̶t̶u̶p̶i̶d̶, ̶f̶o̶o̶l̶h̶a̶r̶d̶y̶ exciting adventure through very soon. Following another good session in the pool, I made a point to get on that bike that I hadn't really spent much time on just yet. With two pairs of borrowed shoes made specially for clipping in on a road bike, I freaked out just a little bit when I tried clipping in with one pair, and just could not make the left shoe clip into the pedal. After a good ten minutes of trying unsuccessfully with the first pair (a womens shoe that did fit my foot, more or less), I finally decided to go back to the mens shoes I'd used on my test ride, which are too wide and a little too long. Lo and behold, these clipped in easily the first time I tried. Relieved, I decided I'd just go with these, and plan on some pretty hefty socks for tri day. I took that bike for a spin around the neighborhood, and while I didn't feel awesome, it was something.

Oh, and that running thing! No, I definitely haven't given up that first love, and this weekend brought one of the best races of the year around these parts, the Anna Banana 5K. After two speed work sessions (one of which I arrived at very late, didn't warm up enough, and had to bail from early due to a screaming hammy), some swimming, a bike ride, and a couple of regular runs, I was, in hindsight, not very well rested for the race. I'd hoped to run sub-21 at this race, given that my last 5K, the Monument Downhill, was a PR 20:08 race. The second I started, though, I could tell the legs just weren't fresh and springy. 

Thank goodness for speed work, though. The 22:03 I ran was nowhere near what I'd hoped to do, but it did help carry me through when I felt really tired, even passing a few runners in the last mile. I was well down the overall female ranks at 8th woman, but on the upside, I got to exit the 30-39 age group at this race this year with a win. My friends Laetitia and Angela, who regularly run Wednesday night speed group, came in second and third,

 and other friends from the group dominated the age group and overall ranks. We were all pretty pleased with our ceramic bananas, the commemorative medals handmade by the Fruita Monument High School art department for the event. 

After the citizen race, we took in the high school races, which are a real treat if you've never seen a high school cross country meet. The course is very spectator friendly, and we walked around to various points on the course, catching runners coming and going before they came blazing into the finish.

Angela (remember, my friend who said I owed her a few triathlons for talking her into Imogene Pass) and I had already been tentatively planning on a REAL ride on my bike, out on the tri course, later that afternoon. Angela's been my tri-training superhero friend, coaching through all the finer points of swimming (both for good form and endurance, and being prepared for open water), and I was anxious to get in the ride. Hanging out and talking with friends while watching the high school races, there were others who thought it was a great day for a ride too, and I was more than excited to have more people telling my noob ass what to do with that bike. I was getting more comfortable with the open water swim, but the whole gears, shifting, clipping and all that? Still not super comfortable. So, a few hours later, we regrouped out on the country roads in Fruita, Colorado.

When we got started, I wasn't really sure how this would play out, and this was another case of having to fight out of my comfort zone and be okay with being the noob with very limited experience on a bicycle. It was a gorgeous afternoon, though, so I just tried telling myself that I'd be missing out if I didn't take this chance to ride with some truly very patient and instructive friends who weren't expecting to race like Lance Armstrong on a truckload of steroids today. My friends could all clip in without looking down or thinking about it, but I had to clip in on one side, get rolling, and then look down to see what I was doing. All right...I was in! Woot! Mission accomplished.

Oh, wait. Not really. We hit the first big downhill, and I got through that, but then the hill climb started. And the whole gear-shifty-thingy is just not natural to me. What happened next, and despite my rock star of a helper/coach/friend Marty saying it was his fault for not noticing I was in the totally wrong gear for a climb-let's be clear, *I* did not have myself in the right gear. It was way too high of a gear, and when I took his suggestion to stand up to get up the hill, I couldn't push through and fell over sideways, thumping onto the ground on what I later figured out was my butt, since I didn't scrape myself up anywhere else. 

In that instant, I was pissed off, frustrated, angry and ready to just turn around, go back to the car, and say screw this crap. After a superpause on the ground for a few seconds, I started picking myself back up, and Marty said "Sorry,I didn't tell you what to do there, let's go back down and try it again." He rode down and I took my time collecting myself, and rode back down the hill. I'm not a quitter. I wasn't going to let myself bow out after one fall. The mental re-set button had been hit, and I was ready to take another swing at the hill, taking in suggestions on what to do, and more aware that I needed to anticipate changes in terrain.

This time, I understood where I was supposed to be, gear wise, and had those wheels spinning loosely and easily. Well, not easily. This hill was still kind of a bitch but now that I had it in the right gear, I could pedal and keep those wheels moving. When I finally got to the top of the hill, my friends Angela, Laetitia and Josh were clapping for me for making it up. I almost felt like a schmuck for a second but I know they didn't mind and that it was motivational and not "Hey! You FINALLY made it up the hill, you dope." Continuing along the course, I tended to be the last one in the group but I wasn't terribly far off, so this chilled me out some. I asked at one point if I'd be the last one in on the bike, and they all told me, emphatically, that NO, I wouldn't. As the ride went on, I was able to chat (a little bit, anyway) with my friends without fear of falling off. When the final big downhill and uphill came, I was kind of able to get into the thrill of going down really fast on a bike. Well, not really fast by REAL triathlete standards. Fast for me, though. It felt pretty excellent to have the sunshine on my face and wind in my hair (that which was sticking out from my bike helmet...we're safety first, people). Making it back to the car, I even decided to go back and practice that last hill one more time for good measure. I didn't die on the bike, despite my best early attempt.

With just a few days left, I am going to spend a little more time swimming and getting on the bike, but I am planning on one or two good days of total rest prior to next Sunday's tri. It's still pretty scary to know I've got three different sports in one event, and the following video posted by a friend, Jeff, who is an Ironman? I'm not sure if I should laugh or run for my life.



 Okay, it's pretty funny, and at a recent wedding of a runner/triathlete friend, it actually chilled me out to hear a couple of Ironmen in attendance confirming that yes, people will kick the crap out of you, pull on you, swim over you/under you in the swim, but it'll all be good. I like to be able to anticipate stuff, even if it's getting punched in the face or yanked underwater. 

With other stuff coming up on the running horizon, like the Rim Rock Marathon in November (#4 for me!), I also had to get in a long run this weekend, and did so with my friend Cheryl, who will be running the race as her first marathon. Now, the shoe goes on the other foot here. This race is old hat for me, and I am not in that place of worrying that I can finish it, nor do I have any doubts that Cheryl will have trouble finishing. In fact, I fully expect her to rock it. This is her first, though, so she's got that anxious energy at work. It's just pretty cool to have this extended group of friends who support and talk one another through stuff, give pointers, or a friendly kick in the butt when it's needed. She wasn't feeling great near the end of the run in the heat, but she made it through and logged that time on the feet. It was the end of a challenging weekend of racing and training, and yeah, there was some contact with pavement, but I'd say it was a successful one on the whole.

I'll fully admit that there's this big chicken in me who totally wants to bail on the tri. There's a huge fear of the unknown at work, and that I am NOT master of this domain. All growth happens outside the comfort zone, though. Plus, I know I'll be kicking myself if I skip it/waste my money, and SO glad I did it afterward, no matter how slow my time. So, for now, I'm trusting that I've got a good basic fitness level and working knowledge of how to go from point A by the water to point B at the tri finish. And it's that process of getting out of the comfort zone-learning by experience and sometimes failure-that will allow me to get it done.

Local Fruit, And The Magic of Duct Tape: The Anna Banana 5K Race Report

It's been awhile since I last ran a 5K, let alone a decent (for me) 5K. Since beginning to run several years ago, I've spent most summers doing a number of short distance races. Between focusing on running longer and higher this summer, and several local races being canceled or falling on weekends when I had prior commitments, I realized that it had been a good five months since my last attempt to run fast over a short distance. Some people think of 5K's as "easy" because it's over a shorter distance and get impressed by long distances. Well, I'm here to say that the long, slow runs are the ones that feel a lot better. To me, anyway. I don't recall ever feeling like I wanted to hack up a lung after a good 20-miler. On the other hand, I've never been able to go as fast in speed work as I do racing, so it's the perfect way for me to knock out good speed work sessions. Doing said speed work at an annual race that is near and dear to a lot of people locally, runners or not, and it's a no-brainer.

The Anna Banana 5K citizen race and high school cross country meet take place on the pathways and trails where I started as an adult onset runner at age 34. They commemorate and celebrate the life of Anna Janowitz, a student and runner at an area high school who died in a car accident on the way to cross country practice nine years ago. Her sister sings the national anthem at the race every year, her family, former coaches and classmates are still very much involved in the race, and her high school's art department still makes the coveted ceramic bananas that serve as age group and overall awards at this race. Money from the race generates scholarship money for a number of cross country or track student athletes from area high schools every year with at least a 3.0 GPA. Out of tragedy came this incredibly positive event where you see the full spectrum of participants, from young to old, and recreational walkers and hikers to some of the most competitive local runners in the area. Yep, it's safe to say that everyone who shows up for this race wants to put his or her best foot forward, and make it count.

This marked the fifth time I've shown up for this race. I've run it four times on my own, and it was my first ever solo 5K in 2007. I ran it in about 25:55, and thought I was going to hurl at the end. It was also the race that started my Boston Marathon pipe dream, because I ran it at exactly the qualifying marathon pace for my age group. I had no idea how I was going to get from 3.1 to 26.2 at that pace, but that's where the ridiculous goal started. The next year, I ran it with my oldest daughter, who decided at the last second that she wanted me to run with her as she paced toward the goal of one of those ceramic bananas. We ran about 29 minutes together, and she still hangs that banana for her 10-and-under age group win in her room even though she's moved on to being focused on dance. The next two years were good for me but not PR races, though last year it was the only race in which I was the top woman overall, which felt pretty good. If I could choose just one local race at which to do that, this is it.

This year, I had a big question mark in my head because I hadn't raced short in so long, and have been kind of been freewheeling in my running for a good part of the last year. I was focused on a good race, though, and ready to take my best swing at the thing last Saturday.

Getting up on Saturday, I was encouraged by the cool temperatures and lack of wind. It's been warm and breezy other years but this was nice. My Garmin was charged up and I debated leaving it at home, which would have been a first for racing. I still hadn't replaced the strap that broke off in some unknown location prior to Imogene. I decided I would go with the oh-so-classy move of duct-taping it on. I wasn't going to be a slave to the Garmin but thought it would be helpful to check my mile splits. I rigged it to my wrist and headed down to the Connected Lakes section of the James Robb State Park. Initially heading to the spot that has been the registration area every year, I found the place deserted. Heading back toward my car, I learned that we had the first major change in the course since my first time doing this race. The course was going to be more of a true cross country course, and would allow runners to pass through the start/finish area midrace. A change will do you good, as Sheryl Crow says. I liked the idea of covering less pavement, and enjoying a more spectator-friendly course.

Lining up for the start, I felt a little bit fatigued, but I never put much stock into how I'm feeling beforehand. Sometimes, things open up and feel good at race time, and sometimes they don't, but I try not to beat myself in my head before the thing's even started. Anna's sister sang the national anthem (and I wondered if it was wrong for me to think that she had a totally bitchin' pair of boots on as she started), and I closed my eyes, trying to relax. A few minutes later, we were off. At the starting horn, I slapped "start" on my Garmin three times before it finally started ticking off the seconds. I tried to not let it distract me and finally got it going.

Right away, a small pack of men and handful of women were ahead of me. I focused on increasing my turnover early, and tried to push steadily ahead without dodging right and left, and moving past runners without side-to-side action. We turned off the dirt road onto pavement and headed down that road, eventually making the sharp right turn across rocks and onto the cement of the riverfront trail. Oh, man, it doesn't feel good to boomerang yourself across those hard rocks, but it's just a small stretch and then a chance to hammer downhill for a bit. I passed a few runners here, and could see two women not too far ahead of me.

High schooler runners arriving for the meet dotted the course, shouting encouragement and motivation. I'm used to, and enjoy our club runs which are largely without spectators, but come on, we all enjoy a little bit of this from time to time. Coming through the start for the first time, I was probably about 10-20 seconds off the two women. I don't have a history of being able to "kick" in 5K's, but was determined to catch them and not sag my second mile.

Mile 1 (or thereabouts...since my Charlie Brown Christmas tree Garmin didn't want to start): 6:57

The second lap now turned left down the road from the gravel road, and then hopped onto the gravel trail around the Connected Lakes. It's pretty flat but continously curves to the left, moving around one lake and then between two. I was gaining on the women now. I wasn't sure if I could hold on if I passed them, but knew I had to go for it without any comfort or breaks. I moved past the first lady, and about thirty seconds later, I passed the second lady. Increasing my turnover as much as possible, I worked to build a little space but didn't look back to see where they were. We rounded the edge of the second lake in the shade of trees on a dirt trail (beautiful), and then hopped back onto an asphalt section of paved riverfront trail, running flat- to slightly uphill now.

Mile 2: 7:28

Okay, now I was in "run the mile like it's your last" mode. Oh, yeah. It really was the last mile today. My breathing felt what I call "5K good"- the lungs were burning but I wasn't slowing down. I knew those ladies, and other runners, were likely not far behind, and pushed hard coming into that sharp, rocky curve from the opposite direction. The last stretch was now flat- to slightly downhill and turned over the legs as fast as I could, trying to do that relax/fall asleep in the head thing so I wouldn't think too hard about how much this hurt. The 5K, for me, is all about seeing how hard I can push and trick myself into running when I'm not thinking so hard about it.

Mile 3: 7:10

Turning left back onto the dirt and toward the finish, I could hear feet behind me, and pushed but to no avail. Someone was moving past. As it turned out, it was not one of the women but some guy who came flying through, finishing just ahead. I held on, though, for second woman overall, 27th overall out of about 168 runners, and first in my age group at what my post-race time card listed as 22:07. I say post-race time card because when I stopped my watch, I didn't REALLY stop it. In addition to being duct-taped together for this race, the start/stop button had stuck in the "on" position at the start after several failed attempts to start it, and now would not shut off. Picking and prying at the button didn't make it come unstuck. When my friend Sandra came through (her second 5K ever, under 24 minutes, and what I think was a top- 10 or 12 finish), she was able to help me unpry the duct tape, and then after awhile I was finally able to dig at it the right way to stop the clock.

When awards time came, a number of the local race regulars, whom I like to refer to as the Usual Suspects, managed to collect hardware-the coveted ceramic bananas. As friends took out their phones and cameras, and it was suggested that we all gather with our banana medals, I made the totally unwitty remark that we should be a "bunch of bananas" for a group shot of all of us who had placed. Luckily, nobody sent me out of town on a rail, and the bunch of bananas, spanning fifty years in age, got together for a few post-race shots. It was yet again another positive experience at the Anna Banana citizen race. Since I'd been planning on it anyway, and was also more or less boxed in with my car near the new start and finish area, I stuck around for the high school races. There were some serious speedsters there, but it was cool to see how many kids of all speeds had come from 20 different high schools.

(winners of the high school Boys and Girls Races...both from higher altitude mountain communities)

Anna's not here on this earth anymore, but her positive presence was all around today. I'm looking forward to coming back in pursuit of local fruit for many years to come, but above all, to celebrate a life by getting out to live some life.