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.

Maybe It Is Time I Learn How To Swim, I'll Be A Dolphin, I'll Be A Dolphin

There's a broken beam inside of the big big bridge

I guess that whole thing is caving in

Maybe it is time I learn how to swim

I'll be a dolphin, I'll be a dolphin

I've been waiting awhile to use the above song, a long time favorite of mine by Poe. It's never really been appropriate, until now. And, in revealing little-known-details about myself, I have a small dolphin tattoo (I know, how cliche) on the back of my left hip that most people aren't aware I have unless I wear low cut jeans (hardly ever) or a bikini (oh, wait. NEVER after babies.) I got it in college and I don't think it held specific meaning for me then, other than I liked how it looked. The interesting thing is that it's come to have a lot of meaning for me as an adult, and isn't just something silly I did at age 20. The whole idea of not being afraid to dive into new, potentially scary situations, keeping the head above water, and that sometimes your only two choices are sink, or keep swimming mister....that's given that little blue guy a lot of character in recent years, and is symbolic of those risks and chances I've taken. The song ties right in with acknowledging and recognizing that fear, but having that trust that if you keep swimming, you will make forward progress and won't sink like a stone.

2012 has been a year for trying new and different things as an athlete. Part of that has been getting out of my comfort zone, which I've come to realize I'd been sitting in for quite some time. I've been documenting all my experiences at 100 mile races this summer, and recently added one more crewing gig to the mix at the Run Rabbit Run 100 in Steamboat Springs for a friend who was running with the hares. It kind of felt like old hat this time, with no major glitches in getting our runner in and out at each crew point, and I was starting to see some regular, familiar faces participating as well. 

At the end of the weekend, I wound up contacting Karl Meltzer, winner of the race, at the suggestion of a friend who had received some coaching from him prior to one of his 100 mile races. It felt a little weird to declare that "Hi Karl, you don't know me, but I might like your help next year for the Leadville Trail 100." It was liberating, though, to just put it out there that it's on my agenda next year. It was a step forward, despite my fears and misgivings.

Another new thing I've been doing is swimming and cycling. A couple of my friends nicknamed me "The Enabler"-as in, that chick who talks them in to doing races and events they might not otherwise. I don't know if that's true, so much as just trying to encourage friends to pursue races and goals they are fully capable of completing, and seem to have an interest in doing. 

Now, if you'd told me a few months ago that I might be doing a triathlon next month, I'd probably say that you were nuts. I've always had a fear of trying a sport with multiple apparel and gear changes, and, well, stuff I don't really know how to use, locate, or anything like that. Wetsuits? Stuff myself into this rubbery thing and maybe or maybe not drown? A bike, with gears to shift, and shoes to clip in? No freaking way. I'd said once that MAYBE....if I had friends telling me what to do every step of the way...I MIGHT consider a triathlon.

Fast forward to the weeks after the Imogene Pass Run. Some of my friends were already training for the Desert Edge Triathlon. My friend Angela, who is a rock star swimmer, had been working with us on Tuesdays at the Colorado Mesa University pool. Now, having running endurance does NOT transfer over to swimming at all-at least not in a direct manner for me. But, Angela said I'd get that over time, and that my stroke was generally pretty decent. I was also informed that since I got her to do Imogene, well, I WAS going to do a triathlon. Fair enough. We were first looking ahead to the Highline Hustle, but that's such a long way off. My competitive side didn't want to do a triathlon unless I could really compete and feel like I had mastery of each discipline. Somewhere along the way, I got okay with the idea of doing Desert Edge-just for fun. And to prove to myself that I was better than my fears. 

I know. FUN? A foreign concept, right? Plus, I'd heard numerous stories about friends-many who are strong athletes in various sports-freaking out on the swim. Any time I'd read about an occasional death in a triathlon, it was always in the swim. And then there were the stories of run-of-the-mill kicking, punching, craziness as tons of athletes enter the water. So, I was a little wary about my ability to complete a 750 meter open water swim. But, in my quest to grow and get out of my comfort zone, I decided I'd throw my best submission ever into the Bad Ideas Club, and go ahead with Desert Edge thanks to lots of encouragement and willingness to help and train on short time by friends with the experience, and the stuff available to loan to complete it. And, I realized, it wasn't a good thing to let my fear paralyze me, and be an excuse to not do this. 

When I dive into that ocean
God I hope I don't sink like a stone -- no
I'm gonna move like a dolphin

After several weeks of swimming in the CMU pool, I took my first trip out to Highline Lake to swim in a  wetsuit one of my friends was kind enough to loan me, along with her tri suit and little number belt thingy.  I didn't really know the best way to get into it, didn't know how I'd feel in the water, and just knew that people freaked out on this more than any other portion of the triathlon. Resisting the urge to just go back to the safety of my car, I went out into the water. It was, blissfully, not as cold as expected. Man, though, my friends weren't kidding that you couldn't see anything. The current, while not tremendously strong, was still way more than anything you'd experience in a swimming pool. So, despite my fears I got out there and started swimming. 

Sometimes I think I'm breaking down
And other times I think that I'm fine
But something got into my engine
It slowed me down
Now I gotta turn this whole thing around

At first, it was okay. Then, I had that moment. I realized I was in open water, and that I couldn't really see much in that murky stuff. I knew I had a LONG way to go to get to the buoy I was supposed to swim to in this workout-and it happened. I started to freak out. As quickly as I started to freak out, though, I remembered the advice of several people to get over on my back-backstroke it out. Get control of my breathing. So I did, and in the process, managed to settle myself down quickly. After a minute or two, I told myself "it's just swimming. It's just swimming. You have a wetsuit. You won't drown. Just relax and swim." And on I went, slowly but steadily for the most part, out around a buoy in the middle of the lake, back to shore, and then back out again for another half-loop. And it didn't suck! Yay! It actually helped to relax and work out lingering soreness from recent runs-an added perk.

Later that morning, I met up with the friend who was loaning me one of his bikes. Now, me and equipment-this is a whole new ballgame. This bike, though, was probably perfect for me right now. An older, high-quality, smooth-riding, workhorse bicycle. And, getting tips from an Ironman (a finisher of a 2.4 mile swim, 112 mile bike, and 26.2 run) who knows what he's talking about is very reassuring. We rode around the neighborhood for awhile, doing loops, going up and down a big hill, and just getting me comfortable to being on the bike. Once or twice, we stopped to make adjustments to the bike to get it where it felt as comfortable as possible for me, and I just practiced with the gears, and basic technique. Clipping in, I must say, is my greatest concern now. I was having a lot of trouble, even with the help of having the bike held upright for me, with something that is easy for more experienced riders. Again, though, it was reassuring to hear, and I am trusting that it is true, that this will become easier with practice.

Yesterday, I had kind of an exciting moment in my second open water swim. I made it all the way around Snooks Bottom, a lake near some of the trails we run near Fruita, Colorado. While I did go to backstroke several times, I made it without stopping, and without freaking out. The water was colder here, and murkier in spots. From the first to the second swim, though, I already felt a little better and more confident. And, I'd covered almost twice the distance I'd need to in the tri-probably about 1300-1400 meters. It felt really good. And just getting on my back and floating in the lake after the swim-it was a moment of indescribable peace I'd never have experienced if I'd let that fear of sinking trump jumping in and swimming. 

Is this an ideal way to go-essentially "cramming" for an event? Well, of course not. That said, I might very well be still sitting on my couch, overweight and not pursuing my goals, if I hadn't signed up on a whim for The Other Half five years ago when I was moved to try something that seemed so hard and out of reach. This is exactly the same. I'm feeling the urge to do this, and that if I don't do it, I might never do it. Waiting until the exactly perfect time often means that the exactly perfect time never comes. I might be missing out on an incredible experience, way out of my comfort zone, that'll make me a stronger athlete and person in the end. So, here I come...here I come....I'll be a dolphin.