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Friday, July 24, 2009
Thursday, July 23, 2009
Fit to Tri?
By Leah
So my good friends over at Total Body Fitness (TBF) sent me a notice inviting me to join them on one of their practice Tri sessions. Since I want to do the Luna Bar Triathlon in late August, I figured I better give this practice one a try. My eldest daughter had babysitting duty and cheerfully agreed to cook dinner for her sister and herself while I headed straight from work to the TBF event out at Lake Natoma yesterday.
It’s been almost a year (end of August will be one year) since I even thought about putting together a bag of gear to complete a tri. Let’s see…what did Coach Dan say last year? Checklist for a tri:
Coach Dan claims that the smaller the race, the longer the warm up one will need. I pedaled off telling myself not to push it on the bike, just to spin. Anyone who rides the Natoma loop knows the switchbacks, tight curves and rolling hills along the way. (Okay, funny side note. I started out riding on the wrong side of the road. I’ve been running so much lately (you’re supposed to run facing traffic) and not on my bike, so I was riding into oncoming traffic. Oops.) My quads began to burn (probably from the early morning track session with Coach Kristen from Folsom Road Runners) and I changed my foot position while pedaling to use more hams and butt. I turned around near mile 3 and headed back thinking, “I can totally do this!” I kept telling myself to spin and save my legs for the run. In the past, the bike-run transition has been the hardest for me. I swear I can hear my legs shouting, “Hey, wait. What are you doing? I was just in my cycling rhythm. Now you want me to run? Make up your mind.” I put my striking bike (it’s an orange FELT and I totally dig it) up on the rack via the seat, leaving the front wheel dangling, and slipped on my wetsuit and headed to the water to acclimate and warm up. Instantly, the cold water made my toes cramp. Swimming with a cramp isn’t good, but I can generally learn to relax my toes enough to keep swimming. The water was cold, but with the wetsuit the only really shocking sensations were on my face and feet. Brrrr.
Coach Dan started the race a few minutes later with a course description and the rules of the game. Look for three pink inner tubes in the water and do two laps around them if you want to complete the .5 mile course. Standing on the shore it was easy to see the pink circles, not so much when swimming. He kicked off the race by shouting, “Go!” and that was it. We all took off. I relied nearly 100% on the swimmers in front of me to guide me to the pink buoys. They were so low in the water that I couldn't really see them with people splashing in front of me. I tried to draft (the only legal place to draft in a tri), but ended up passing those I was drafting off of. One guy (at least I think it was a guy, hard to tell when swimming your heart out) and I kept bumping into each other. He took me on a turn and I had to kick it up to catch up to him. The second lap seemed to go even faster. Maybe I was in my groove. After the final turn I headed toward shore. A TBF coach was standing there waving her arms trying to direct us into the landing spot. Fifteen feet out, my right calf cramped worse than it ever had before. Cramped isn’t really the right word. It became a solid brick and wouldn’t let go. I stopped dead in the water and sank. Grabbing my calf and rubbing it, I tried to half crawl, half dog paddle to more shallow ground. The coach was yelling, “Here. Come in here. Less rocks over here.” I told her, “It’s not the rocks. I have a cramp and can’t move.” Oh, the pain. At that point, three swimmers passed me and headed toward their bikes. There wasn’t anything I could do but sit there and try and work through it. Calm, Leah. Be calm. Eventually, I hobbled up and over to my Felt sitting patiently waiting for me. Perhaps my bike was thinking, “Hello…Leah. All these other bikes are going out to play. Where have you been?” Poor bike.
Helmet. Check. Cleats. Check. Sunglasses. Check. And off we went, my bike and I. Twelve miles of blind turns, smooth straightaways, bumpy bridges and sloping hills. I geared up and down through all of them trying to stay in “spinning” mode. My calf was killing me. I pushed my heel down to try and stretch the calf muscle on several occasions. It continued to scream and I continued to fight back. All was well. My top speed was just over 20 MPH and I was averaging around 16 MPH. Not too bad considering I have only ridden my bike 4 times since February. Then came the long, unexpected hill. I geared down trying to spin. Slowly, slowly my bike turned over now going 8.7 miles an hour. If anyone could catch me, it would be now. I made a mental note to myself, “Leah, you don’t do hills. It’s okay. You’re not a powerhouse, but you are going to finish.” Finally it was over and I was able to double my speed again. Only three men passed me during the ride. This means I kicked their butt in the water (whoo hoo!) but they slammed me on the bike. The last guy passed me just before the shortest, but steepest hill of the ride. I was easily going 2-3 MPH and hoping to not fall over. But, I knew it was only 20 feet of climbing (if that) and could work through it. This last guy, Ed, who passed me crashed on the downhill side of that climb. I wanted to tell him, “That’s what you get for passing me (ha ha),” but I didn’t. Instead I stopped and offered to help. He was pretty shaken and bloody, but okay. After a minute and when I knew he could stand and wasn’t going to pass out, I told him I would ride ahead and let Coach Dan know he was injured and to watch for him. Poor Ed.
Next transition. The run. While putting on my shoes Coach Dan ambled over and said, “Leah make the first lap hard, second medium, and last easy.” I stared back. Big, blank eyes…and pointed to myself, “Are you talking to me?” He shook his head. “You mean you don’t want me to lope along and just hope to finish?” He laughed not understanding that I was serious. So, being the good student I am, I sprinted at the start. Whoo, feeling good. This was great! Yeah, for about one-eighth of a mile. Then all of a sudden, and I swear this happened, my legs opened up and said, “Are you crazy, girl?” and then refused to go any further. It was the oddest sensation. Maybe you could compare it to a car that decides to break down. One second you’re racing along at 65 MPH, then you hear a CLUNK, then a SPUTTER, and slowly, slowly you glide to stop. My lungs seemed to agree. Breathing quite heavily, I had to stop and walk. I told my legs to be quiet and stop complaining. Totally bonking at this point, I ran-walked several times through that first mile. The second was a little better. A TBF coach met me at the start of lap 2 and handed me some cold water. Yum! I finished it and shoved it into my shirt pocket so as not to litter. This lap I still walked twice, but did a little better. Lap three rolled around, I took another sip of water, stored the cup and started to run.
The only point I walked was on a short uphill. I just didn’t want to burst my lungs again. But it was probably around 20 seconds of walking, maybe less. I jogged the rest of the way in, feeling tired and sore, but absolutely empowered. I had done it! Even last year I could only complete 2 of the 3 laps on the practice tri. This year, I did all three. Perhaps it was the track workout that morning that had my legs all warmed up? I am quite certain that although I jogged the last mile, it was the fastest of the three since I didn’t really walk much. My finish time for the half-mile swim, 12-mile bike and 3-mile run was 1 hour 39 minutes. Several folks came in behind me, but I have a feeling that most of the crew didn’t do the sprint distance. Perhaps they did only a quarter-mile swim and 2 of the 3 mile run. Anyway, it doesn’t matter. I had completed the race – well, practice race. Later, I could barely walk as my calf felt like it was hit by a sledgehammer and my left hip tightened up. I shed just a couple of tears when my darling hubby, Tom, tried to work through the knots for me. This morning I was still hobbling, wobbling around, but feeling good on the inside.
So, I may not be fit to win, place or show in a Tri. But I’m fit to try. So are you! We are fit to try together. For more info on TBF click here. For more info on Folsom Road Runners, click here. Both groups strive to encourage the non-athlete to become one—at any age, at any pace. You can Tri too!
So my good friends over at Total Body Fitness (TBF) sent me a notice inviting me to join them on one of their practice Tri sessions. Since I want to do the Luna Bar Triathlon in late August, I figured I better give this practice one a try. My eldest daughter had babysitting duty and cheerfully agreed to cook dinner for her sister and herself while I headed straight from work to the TBF event out at Lake Natoma yesterday.
It’s been almost a year (end of August will be one year) since I even thought about putting together a bag of gear to complete a tri. Let’s see…what did Coach Dan say last year? Checklist for a tri:
- Bike (you’d think I’d remember, but…)
- Helmet (almost left the house yesterday w/o this)
- Cleats (these too)
- Sunglasses (thank goodness they caught my eye by the night table)
- Running shoes
- Socks (I still wear them, at least on the run)
- Hat (for the run)
- Swimsuit or tri clothes (I chose Tri shorts and top)
- Swim cap
- Goggles
- Wetsuit (if avail and/or necessary – the water is still cold out there)
- Towel (to lay your gear down on and wipe your feet after the water
- Inhaler (goodness knows my lungs would collapse if I didn’t have it)
- Water bottle (yesterday I put a Nuun tablet and Endurance powder in it.) The water bottle should be ready to go on your bike, b/c you don’t want to forget it when you’re on the bike trail.
- There are probably other items that I’m forgetting.
Coach Dan claims that the smaller the race, the longer the warm up one will need. I pedaled off telling myself not to push it on the bike, just to spin. Anyone who rides the Natoma loop knows the switchbacks, tight curves and rolling hills along the way. (Okay, funny side note. I started out riding on the wrong side of the road. I’ve been running so much lately (you’re supposed to run facing traffic) and not on my bike, so I was riding into oncoming traffic. Oops.) My quads began to burn (probably from the early morning track session with Coach Kristen from Folsom Road Runners) and I changed my foot position while pedaling to use more hams and butt. I turned around near mile 3 and headed back thinking, “I can totally do this!” I kept telling myself to spin and save my legs for the run. In the past, the bike-run transition has been the hardest for me. I swear I can hear my legs shouting, “Hey, wait. What are you doing? I was just in my cycling rhythm. Now you want me to run? Make up your mind.” I put my striking bike (it’s an orange FELT and I totally dig it) up on the rack via the seat, leaving the front wheel dangling, and slipped on my wetsuit and headed to the water to acclimate and warm up. Instantly, the cold water made my toes cramp. Swimming with a cramp isn’t good, but I can generally learn to relax my toes enough to keep swimming. The water was cold, but with the wetsuit the only really shocking sensations were on my face and feet. Brrrr.
Coach Dan started the race a few minutes later with a course description and the rules of the game. Look for three pink inner tubes in the water and do two laps around them if you want to complete the .5 mile course. Standing on the shore it was easy to see the pink circles, not so much when swimming. He kicked off the race by shouting, “Go!” and that was it. We all took off. I relied nearly 100% on the swimmers in front of me to guide me to the pink buoys. They were so low in the water that I couldn't really see them with people splashing in front of me. I tried to draft (the only legal place to draft in a tri), but ended up passing those I was drafting off of. One guy (at least I think it was a guy, hard to tell when swimming your heart out) and I kept bumping into each other. He took me on a turn and I had to kick it up to catch up to him. The second lap seemed to go even faster. Maybe I was in my groove. After the final turn I headed toward shore. A TBF coach was standing there waving her arms trying to direct us into the landing spot. Fifteen feet out, my right calf cramped worse than it ever had before. Cramped isn’t really the right word. It became a solid brick and wouldn’t let go. I stopped dead in the water and sank. Grabbing my calf and rubbing it, I tried to half crawl, half dog paddle to more shallow ground. The coach was yelling, “Here. Come in here. Less rocks over here.” I told her, “It’s not the rocks. I have a cramp and can’t move.” Oh, the pain. At that point, three swimmers passed me and headed toward their bikes. There wasn’t anything I could do but sit there and try and work through it. Calm, Leah. Be calm. Eventually, I hobbled up and over to my Felt sitting patiently waiting for me. Perhaps my bike was thinking, “Hello…Leah. All these other bikes are going out to play. Where have you been?” Poor bike.
Helmet. Check. Cleats. Check. Sunglasses. Check. And off we went, my bike and I. Twelve miles of blind turns, smooth straightaways, bumpy bridges and sloping hills. I geared up and down through all of them trying to stay in “spinning” mode. My calf was killing me. I pushed my heel down to try and stretch the calf muscle on several occasions. It continued to scream and I continued to fight back. All was well. My top speed was just over 20 MPH and I was averaging around 16 MPH. Not too bad considering I have only ridden my bike 4 times since February. Then came the long, unexpected hill. I geared down trying to spin. Slowly, slowly my bike turned over now going 8.7 miles an hour. If anyone could catch me, it would be now. I made a mental note to myself, “Leah, you don’t do hills. It’s okay. You’re not a powerhouse, but you are going to finish.” Finally it was over and I was able to double my speed again. Only three men passed me during the ride. This means I kicked their butt in the water (whoo hoo!) but they slammed me on the bike. The last guy passed me just before the shortest, but steepest hill of the ride. I was easily going 2-3 MPH and hoping to not fall over. But, I knew it was only 20 feet of climbing (if that) and could work through it. This last guy, Ed, who passed me crashed on the downhill side of that climb. I wanted to tell him, “That’s what you get for passing me (ha ha),” but I didn’t. Instead I stopped and offered to help. He was pretty shaken and bloody, but okay. After a minute and when I knew he could stand and wasn’t going to pass out, I told him I would ride ahead and let Coach Dan know he was injured and to watch for him. Poor Ed.
Next transition. The run. While putting on my shoes Coach Dan ambled over and said, “Leah make the first lap hard, second medium, and last easy.” I stared back. Big, blank eyes…and pointed to myself, “Are you talking to me?” He shook his head. “You mean you don’t want me to lope along and just hope to finish?” He laughed not understanding that I was serious. So, being the good student I am, I sprinted at the start. Whoo, feeling good. This was great! Yeah, for about one-eighth of a mile. Then all of a sudden, and I swear this happened, my legs opened up and said, “Are you crazy, girl?” and then refused to go any further. It was the oddest sensation. Maybe you could compare it to a car that decides to break down. One second you’re racing along at 65 MPH, then you hear a CLUNK, then a SPUTTER, and slowly, slowly you glide to stop. My lungs seemed to agree. Breathing quite heavily, I had to stop and walk. I told my legs to be quiet and stop complaining. Totally bonking at this point, I ran-walked several times through that first mile. The second was a little better. A TBF coach met me at the start of lap 2 and handed me some cold water. Yum! I finished it and shoved it into my shirt pocket so as not to litter. This lap I still walked twice, but did a little better. Lap three rolled around, I took another sip of water, stored the cup and started to run.
The only point I walked was on a short uphill. I just didn’t want to burst my lungs again. But it was probably around 20 seconds of walking, maybe less. I jogged the rest of the way in, feeling tired and sore, but absolutely empowered. I had done it! Even last year I could only complete 2 of the 3 laps on the practice tri. This year, I did all three. Perhaps it was the track workout that morning that had my legs all warmed up? I am quite certain that although I jogged the last mile, it was the fastest of the three since I didn’t really walk much. My finish time for the half-mile swim, 12-mile bike and 3-mile run was 1 hour 39 minutes. Several folks came in behind me, but I have a feeling that most of the crew didn’t do the sprint distance. Perhaps they did only a quarter-mile swim and 2 of the 3 mile run. Anyway, it doesn’t matter. I had completed the race – well, practice race. Later, I could barely walk as my calf felt like it was hit by a sledgehammer and my left hip tightened up. I shed just a couple of tears when my darling hubby, Tom, tried to work through the knots for me. This morning I was still hobbling, wobbling around, but feeling good on the inside.
So, I may not be fit to win, place or show in a Tri. But I’m fit to try. So are you! We are fit to try together. For more info on TBF click here. For more info on Folsom Road Runners, click here. Both groups strive to encourage the non-athlete to become one—at any age, at any pace. You can Tri too!
Thursday, July 9, 2009
The Office
By Leah
In this ever-hectic pace of running the Wellness Task Force, I have found myself doing the opposite of what I encourage others to do: step out and exercise. For nearly a month I shrugged this personal health responsibility partially because of time (I was working 15-17 hour days for most of May and June) and partially because of my lungs (bronchial asthma issues). Still, if I had a full staff (wouldn’t that be great!) and healthy lungs, I am sure that I would have found some other excuse to not run. Why? I don’t know. Mentally, I wanted to run (at least I think I did); physically, I was exhausted. However, a new dawn has risen for this ol’ bird. A dawning called, “The Office.” Don’t get confused, I’m no Michael Scott (aka Steve Carrell). I’m not that witty or clueless... I stray…the office is my new sanctuary. It is officially the site for the Wellness Task Force that can be visited on any occasion without having to knock on the front door of my house. This transition has caused great confusion, some agony, and a brilliant passage into a new phase of activity.
Prior to this week I could work 24 hours a day; I didn’t, but I could have. I generally turned on my computer by 7:00 a.m. and worked until 11:30 or so at night – taking a 20 min break for lunch, a few minutes to pick up baby girl from preschool and deliver the happy teenager to volleyball practice, and an hour or so for dinner, plus the occasional moment to squeeze my kids. What heartache. Not only was I addicted to work, but it left my heart breaking each time my four-year-old inquired, “Mom, can you play with me now? Or, are you still working?” Hug, kiss, squeeze…work. On top of that, my workouts were pushed and pulled during an occasional extended lunch hour or early Saturday mornings. It certainly wasn’t the lifestyle I advocate for every day and I’m not very proud of it. Proud of my work outcomes, yes. Proud of my family and personal outcomes, no. So, what changed? The office!
In May I took money out of my tax savings and rented an office for the Task Force. (Yes, I’m hoping to get reimbursed at some point.) I paid for a year in advance thus guaranteeing myself that I would have to move – and stay – out of my home office (at least for the most part). Though still not completely moved in (how much can one Task Force accumulate??), I have now been working behind my “official office” desk for almost a week. The first two days I actually, physically moaned around the house in the evening. I swear it was the oddest sense of work withdrawal. I felt so disconnected and I tossed and turned with a notebook next to my bed to write down all the things I needed to get done the next day. I was just used to everyone being able to reach me 24 hours a day and I felt...dispossessed. I still wasn’t spending a lot of time with my kids because I was restless, but I wasn’t about to pick up baby girl and bring her back to the office. Can you imagine the stack of toys I’d need to bring to occupy her? However, few days have passed and things are calming down (or at least I am calming down).
Three days this week I’ve risen between 4:30 a.m and 5:00 a.m. to eat and go for a run or do a track workout with my team, Folsom Road Runners. Three days! This morning I ran 6 miles. I haven’t run six miles in more than a month! Each time I have arrived back home in time to shower, play with my daughter, and get to the office by 8:00 or 8:30. Each night I have closed down my computer by 5:45 and picked up my daughter from preschool. I then have had the remainder of the evening to hang with the kids, clean house, and…that’s right…sleep! Who would have thought? To be completely honest, I have come back once on the weekend and once around 9:00 p.m. during the week to finish a few things, but that’s not nearly what it used to be. I imagine that during this busy season (January – November) I will be pulling some weekend work hours to cover what needs to be done, but I am thrilled with my progress. I am on the three step plan: 1) Workout while everyone’s asleep, 2) Work, 3) Be with family (not necessarily always in that order). I am hoping to stick to it. Certainly I already feel better. More rested, stronger, and happier. The question is, will the Task Force allow me to maintain this routine? Or will I need to move a cot into the office? That remains to be seen.
In this ever-hectic pace of running the Wellness Task Force, I have found myself doing the opposite of what I encourage others to do: step out and exercise. For nearly a month I shrugged this personal health responsibility partially because of time (I was working 15-17 hour days for most of May and June) and partially because of my lungs (bronchial asthma issues). Still, if I had a full staff (wouldn’t that be great!) and healthy lungs, I am sure that I would have found some other excuse to not run. Why? I don’t know. Mentally, I wanted to run (at least I think I did); physically, I was exhausted. However, a new dawn has risen for this ol’ bird. A dawning called, “The Office.” Don’t get confused, I’m no Michael Scott (aka Steve Carrell). I’m not that witty or clueless... I stray…the office is my new sanctuary. It is officially the site for the Wellness Task Force that can be visited on any occasion without having to knock on the front door of my house. This transition has caused great confusion, some agony, and a brilliant passage into a new phase of activity.
Prior to this week I could work 24 hours a day; I didn’t, but I could have. I generally turned on my computer by 7:00 a.m. and worked until 11:30 or so at night – taking a 20 min break for lunch, a few minutes to pick up baby girl from preschool and deliver the happy teenager to volleyball practice, and an hour or so for dinner, plus the occasional moment to squeeze my kids. What heartache. Not only was I addicted to work, but it left my heart breaking each time my four-year-old inquired, “Mom, can you play with me now? Or, are you still working?” Hug, kiss, squeeze…work. On top of that, my workouts were pushed and pulled during an occasional extended lunch hour or early Saturday mornings. It certainly wasn’t the lifestyle I advocate for every day and I’m not very proud of it. Proud of my work outcomes, yes. Proud of my family and personal outcomes, no. So, what changed? The office!
In May I took money out of my tax savings and rented an office for the Task Force. (Yes, I’m hoping to get reimbursed at some point.) I paid for a year in advance thus guaranteeing myself that I would have to move – and stay – out of my home office (at least for the most part). Though still not completely moved in (how much can one Task Force accumulate??), I have now been working behind my “official office” desk for almost a week. The first two days I actually, physically moaned around the house in the evening. I swear it was the oddest sense of work withdrawal. I felt so disconnected and I tossed and turned with a notebook next to my bed to write down all the things I needed to get done the next day. I was just used to everyone being able to reach me 24 hours a day and I felt...dispossessed. I still wasn’t spending a lot of time with my kids because I was restless, but I wasn’t about to pick up baby girl and bring her back to the office. Can you imagine the stack of toys I’d need to bring to occupy her? However, few days have passed and things are calming down (or at least I am calming down).
Three days this week I’ve risen between 4:30 a.m and 5:00 a.m. to eat and go for a run or do a track workout with my team, Folsom Road Runners. Three days! This morning I ran 6 miles. I haven’t run six miles in more than a month! Each time I have arrived back home in time to shower, play with my daughter, and get to the office by 8:00 or 8:30. Each night I have closed down my computer by 5:45 and picked up my daughter from preschool. I then have had the remainder of the evening to hang with the kids, clean house, and…that’s right…sleep! Who would have thought? To be completely honest, I have come back once on the weekend and once around 9:00 p.m. during the week to finish a few things, but that’s not nearly what it used to be. I imagine that during this busy season (January – November) I will be pulling some weekend work hours to cover what needs to be done, but I am thrilled with my progress. I am on the three step plan: 1) Workout while everyone’s asleep, 2) Work, 3) Be with family (not necessarily always in that order). I am hoping to stick to it. Certainly I already feel better. More rested, stronger, and happier. The question is, will the Task Force allow me to maintain this routine? Or will I need to move a cot into the office? That remains to be seen.
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