The boys had such a great time at the beach when I did the OBX marathon last year that they asked me to do it again this year. Since I love a good flat race, and since I wanted to do a marathon again, I agreed.
Training went well this year, just as it did last year. My awesome running friends, as always, kept me going through the harder workouts (hills for Dave!). This year, though, I was feeling just a bit stronger and fitter overall after having done the Raleigh Ironman 70.3 in June. In the past couple months, I’ve also added a TRX class, a couple days of yoga, and an amped-up swim schedule into my weekly routine that are probably helping me too.
Plus, the race conditions were just perfect. The weather was exactly what I would have requested: 50-ish at start and not much higher throughout; little wind and what was there was at our backs; solid cloud cover. I also made some great pacing friends along the way: Ed from Roxboro, NC, Harry from Stanton, VA, and Bob from Orlando, FL. Bob and I were together from Mile 16 to the end. I almost feel like I need to go have Thanksgiving dinner with him and his family.
All of these factors converged to make for a great day and to help me take about 15 minutes off last year’s time. I do more than appreciate and celebrate the epic PR, of course, but I most impressed myself with my consistency; all of the miles, start to finish, were pretty much the same pace. Again, I point to the 70.3 and cross training bonus on this one. Perhaps those other sports are good for something after all.
Finally, I must give my shout-outs. First: to my boys, who put up with all the training and the whining about the training. And then there are my running peeps. In particular, I have to give XOs to the folks who were with me every single week (or just about) of this training cycle: Karen, P-squared, Ellen, and Natasha; as well as to Margaret, Jen, Brice, Paul, Daisy, and Evan, who helped me push through some especially brutal long runs. And, of course, to Kim, Jason, and all of BCRC and the BCTC for the amazing support and encouragement.
I’ve said it here before, my dear friends, but I’ll say it again: Without you, no marathon.
Tuesday, November 11, 2014
Monday, November 18, 2013
Fickle Weather Foiled
I was spending way too long at night trying to decide what I should wear on my run the next morning. Yes, I was consulting weather.com, but since the weather has been beyond fickle this fall in NC, I just kept forgetting my various comfort thresholds. My solution? This chart.
I'm thinking of laminating it and hanging it in my closet. Want your own? Download my template here and customize.
I'm thinking of laminating it and hanging it in my closet. Want your own? Download my template here and customize.
Wednesday, November 13, 2013
"OBX" Outer Banks (Marathon)
This was my first ever 26.2. I’m not sure I’ve ever been so mentally (and probably physically) prepared for a race. I have been diligently following my training plan since July; I meticulously planned my nutrition and wardrobe; and, despite an ill-timed bout of the sniffles, I made sure to get good nights’ sleep in the week leading up to the event. I even slept pretty well the night before (but wow, those marathon anxiety dreams are crazy!). It was also a gorgeous day at the Outer Banks: full sun by the 7:20am race start, temps in the mid-50s.
I arrived at the race start about 40 minutes early to get settled and find my spot in corral A. I was feeling a little awesome about being placed in corral A until I learned that there were only 2 corrals. Still, it was corral A!
During the race, from start to mile 19.5-ish, I felt like a rock star. I was keeping my pace on the fast side of my best estimates, even through the 3-ish miles of unpaved trails. My half-marathon split was way better than I expected and actually not even that far off (5 minutes) from my half marathon PR. There were great spectators along the way too, and I was especially energized to see Doug and Colin at mile 17.
At mile 19.5, though, two new and significant things started to happen: first, my left calf (and ankle too at first, but that was short-lived) started doing something strange. It was sort of like a cramp, but more of just a general rebellion; second (and more significantly), the wind got wicked; I think because we were going over more bridges. I expected to have some sunburn, but instead, I actually have windburn on my face.
I was able to keep the calf rebellion in check with some light stretching at the water stations, but I really slowed down, adding about :45 second/mile to my average pace over the last 6+ miles. At first I was kicking myself for keeping the faster pace at the beginning, but I really don’t think that starting slower would have saved me. I was just tired, and it was just windy. In fact, I think this pace saved me because, quite simply, I was able to get the whole think over with sooner (the faster you run, the faster you’re done, right?)
I also don’t think that the problem was nutrition. I drank Gatorade whenever it was offered (even though I got to the point that the Gatorade tasted so bad that I had to rinse my mouth out with water after I drank it), and I drank water (conservatively) at most of the stations that didn’t have Gatorade. I also ate 5 Honey Stingers (or as Karen M. and I call them, “stingahs”) gummies every 6 miles, just like I did with great success on every long training run. So, again, I think I was just tired of running. My super-awesome massage therapist Suzie calls miles 19-23 the “Pain Tunnel,” so I am guessing I’m not the only person who has had this kind of experience.
In the end, I hit right between my dream goal and my realistic-best-case scenario goal. I am a firm believer in the “you run the race you trained for” adage, though. And honestly, I didn’t train for anything better than what I got.
Takeaways: Most of the veteran marathoners I know said that the goal of the first marathon is to finish, and now I get what they meant. This race was an unparalleled experience, and it was seriously one of the hardest things I’ve ever done (and I’ve had thoracic surgery and given birth). Logistically, for the next 26.2, I think that I will try to do more runs on tired legs. Not that anything can prepare you for that Pain-Tunnel feeling, but I’m sure at least some simulation will help.
Gratitude: Not only am I lucky enough to have a husband and son who never complain about the time I put into the exercises, but I also have the best friends/support group in the universe. Some of them have been my ever-reliable running (and life) companions for years now, some got up at the “tramp stamp” of dawn with me (and protected me from small bears), some kept me up to speed on the latest Oiselle fashions, some made me speedy spider posters, and some kept me company on nearly every long run (always reminding me that there was Bean Traders waiting at the finish). I seriously love you all more than I can say. Without you=no marathon.
I arrived at the race start about 40 minutes early to get settled and find my spot in corral A. I was feeling a little awesome about being placed in corral A until I learned that there were only 2 corrals. Still, it was corral A!
During the race, from start to mile 19.5-ish, I felt like a rock star. I was keeping my pace on the fast side of my best estimates, even through the 3-ish miles of unpaved trails. My half-marathon split was way better than I expected and actually not even that far off (5 minutes) from my half marathon PR. There were great spectators along the way too, and I was especially energized to see Doug and Colin at mile 17.
At mile 19.5, though, two new and significant things started to happen: first, my left calf (and ankle too at first, but that was short-lived) started doing something strange. It was sort of like a cramp, but more of just a general rebellion; second (and more significantly), the wind got wicked; I think because we were going over more bridges. I expected to have some sunburn, but instead, I actually have windburn on my face.
I was able to keep the calf rebellion in check with some light stretching at the water stations, but I really slowed down, adding about :45 second/mile to my average pace over the last 6+ miles. At first I was kicking myself for keeping the faster pace at the beginning, but I really don’t think that starting slower would have saved me. I was just tired, and it was just windy. In fact, I think this pace saved me because, quite simply, I was able to get the whole think over with sooner (the faster you run, the faster you’re done, right?)
I also don’t think that the problem was nutrition. I drank Gatorade whenever it was offered (even though I got to the point that the Gatorade tasted so bad that I had to rinse my mouth out with water after I drank it), and I drank water (conservatively) at most of the stations that didn’t have Gatorade. I also ate 5 Honey Stingers (or as Karen M. and I call them, “stingahs”) gummies every 6 miles, just like I did with great success on every long training run. So, again, I think I was just tired of running. My super-awesome massage therapist Suzie calls miles 19-23 the “Pain Tunnel,” so I am guessing I’m not the only person who has had this kind of experience.
In the end, I hit right between my dream goal and my realistic-best-case scenario goal. I am a firm believer in the “you run the race you trained for” adage, though. And honestly, I didn’t train for anything better than what I got.
Takeaways: Most of the veteran marathoners I know said that the goal of the first marathon is to finish, and now I get what they meant. This race was an unparalleled experience, and it was seriously one of the hardest things I’ve ever done (and I’ve had thoracic surgery and given birth). Logistically, for the next 26.2, I think that I will try to do more runs on tired legs. Not that anything can prepare you for that Pain-Tunnel feeling, but I’m sure at least some simulation will help.
Gratitude: Not only am I lucky enough to have a husband and son who never complain about the time I put into the exercises, but I also have the best friends/support group in the universe. Some of them have been my ever-reliable running (and life) companions for years now, some got up at the “tramp stamp” of dawn with me (and protected me from small bears), some kept me up to speed on the latest Oiselle fashions, some made me speedy spider posters, and some kept me company on nearly every long run (always reminding me that there was Bean Traders waiting at the finish). I seriously love you all more than I can say. Without you=no marathon.
Monday, July 22, 2013
Triangle Triathlon
(750m swim/ 17.5 mile bike/ 5k run)
Semi-relevant background note: In 2007, I raced the Triangle Triathlon as the bike leg of a relay team. It was my first triathlon experience, and I was using it as a training stepping stone to my first solo effort. My relay team did well (3rd overall), but I had a lot of unreasonable anxiety about the event. Turns out that I was pregnant, and my hormones were just out of control. So, I put my triathlon career on hold a bit as I’ve detailed in other posts, but I vowed to one day complete the Triangle Tri on my own. Last year I did just that, and this year I did it again.
Race report proper: I went into this race well rested (unusual) and generally well prepared. I say “generally” because I know that I could have done more training on the bike leading up to the race and been smarter on the bike during the race, but I’m getting ahead of myself.
First, the swim (last year’s time: 21:36; this year's time 17:35)
Totally rad improvement, right?! I feel so happy about this. I’ve been swimming 3 times a week very consistently for the last few months (up from twice a week over the winter), and I am so much more comfortable in the water. This is especially remarkable considering that the water temperature in Harris Lake was a balmy 90 degrees on race morning (note: that was 12 degrees warmer than the air temperature). So, I knew that I needed to be even conservative than I normally would be in a tri swim (this time was 8 seconds slower per 100m than my wetsuit-legal Ironman swim, for example). The water was definitely warm. It’s so weird to feel sweaty coming out of the water, but I totally was—sweaty and red like a boiled lobster. Still, I felt like a strong lobster, and I was totally ready to head into the bike.
The bike (last year’s time: 59:13; this year's time 1:02:06)
Not so rad here. Don’t get me wrong: I think that averaging 17 mph is pretty cool, but clearly I can do better because I have. I attribute my “decline” primarily to the fact that I went on a whopping three actual outside rides before this race. I did the rest of the “rides” on my indoor bike. To my credit, though, the reason for this was that I just got a new bike fitting, and I really couldn’t ride before that because my bike was so wickedly uncomfortable. The other issue for this race was nutrition, and here I just made a rookie mistake. I made a game-time decision not to bring Honey Stingers on my ride. I’m not sure why beyond the fact that I had to take my bike pouch off my bike to put it on the car rack. I took off the pouch, said “I won’t need this it’s only a 17 mile ride,” and tossed it aside. Well, at 10 miles into that ride, stomach growling, I really missed that pouch o’ Stingers. And I had to make the call to hold back a bit on the bike to conserve energy for the run, since I could feel myself fading. Still, once again, I felt pretty strong (and comfortable!) during the ride otherwise. I didn’t even get what I call “the googly legs” getting off my bike to head into transition
Finally, the run (last year’s time: 28:31; this year's time 26:32)
Again, so jazzed about this. When I came intro transition off the bike, the first thing I did after grabbing my race number was dig the extra package of Honey Stingers out of my race bag and chop five. This calmed the belly a bit, even if it did add to my transition time. Aside: My transitions were basically the same as last year, but T2 was 30 seconds longer. I ascribe this to the Stinger saga, but I also have to admit that I didn’t practice transitions at all.
The run for this race is a little strange because it’s mostly trail-ish: grass, well-packed gravel/pine straw, some mud. There’s a substantial hill near the mile 2 marker that I suspect feels more substantial because it’s at the end of a July triathlon. And while I was certainly tired and ready to be done, I was also certainly not demolished. This feeling (or lack thereof) makes me almost as happy as the over :30/mile time improvement.
Overall, then, with the longer bike and T2, I took just over 2.5 minutes off my total race time (1:50:28 this year versus 1:52:52 last year). This put me 82/151 (vs. 93/164 last year) for women overall and 23/29 (vs. 25/33 last year) for my age group. This middle-of-the-pack finish doesn’t really bother me (well, not too much) though because I think this race has a really fast field. The top times for women in each leg were 11:17/46:03/20:30 (wow-za).
Takeways: Practice pays off, so I should probably keep hitting the roads every weekend on the bike (the trainer will just have to do for during the week because that’s all I can give cycling right now). Also, it ends up that a good bike fit kind of is like couples therapy for the bike and rider. I don’t hate my bike anymore. I actually even feel some affection for her again, and I suspect that our relationship will continue to grow as we train for the Finish Strong Aqua bike in September.
Finally, I need to stick to my nutrition plans no matter what my car bike rack tries to make me believe. Sheesh.
Race report proper: I went into this race well rested (unusual) and generally well prepared. I say “generally” because I know that I could have done more training on the bike leading up to the race and been smarter on the bike during the race, but I’m getting ahead of myself.
First, the swim (last year’s time: 21:36; this year's time 17:35)
Totally rad improvement, right?! I feel so happy about this. I’ve been swimming 3 times a week very consistently for the last few months (up from twice a week over the winter), and I am so much more comfortable in the water. This is especially remarkable considering that the water temperature in Harris Lake was a balmy 90 degrees on race morning (note: that was 12 degrees warmer than the air temperature). So, I knew that I needed to be even conservative than I normally would be in a tri swim (this time was 8 seconds slower per 100m than my wetsuit-legal Ironman swim, for example). The water was definitely warm. It’s so weird to feel sweaty coming out of the water, but I totally was—sweaty and red like a boiled lobster. Still, I felt like a strong lobster, and I was totally ready to head into the bike.
The bike (last year’s time: 59:13; this year's time 1:02:06)
Not so rad here. Don’t get me wrong: I think that averaging 17 mph is pretty cool, but clearly I can do better because I have. I attribute my “decline” primarily to the fact that I went on a whopping three actual outside rides before this race. I did the rest of the “rides” on my indoor bike. To my credit, though, the reason for this was that I just got a new bike fitting, and I really couldn’t ride before that because my bike was so wickedly uncomfortable. The other issue for this race was nutrition, and here I just made a rookie mistake. I made a game-time decision not to bring Honey Stingers on my ride. I’m not sure why beyond the fact that I had to take my bike pouch off my bike to put it on the car rack. I took off the pouch, said “I won’t need this it’s only a 17 mile ride,” and tossed it aside. Well, at 10 miles into that ride, stomach growling, I really missed that pouch o’ Stingers. And I had to make the call to hold back a bit on the bike to conserve energy for the run, since I could feel myself fading. Still, once again, I felt pretty strong (and comfortable!) during the ride otherwise. I didn’t even get what I call “the googly legs” getting off my bike to head into transition
Finally, the run (last year’s time: 28:31; this year's time 26:32)
Again, so jazzed about this. When I came intro transition off the bike, the first thing I did after grabbing my race number was dig the extra package of Honey Stingers out of my race bag and chop five. This calmed the belly a bit, even if it did add to my transition time. Aside: My transitions were basically the same as last year, but T2 was 30 seconds longer. I ascribe this to the Stinger saga, but I also have to admit that I didn’t practice transitions at all.
The run for this race is a little strange because it’s mostly trail-ish: grass, well-packed gravel/pine straw, some mud. There’s a substantial hill near the mile 2 marker that I suspect feels more substantial because it’s at the end of a July triathlon. And while I was certainly tired and ready to be done, I was also certainly not demolished. This feeling (or lack thereof) makes me almost as happy as the over :30/mile time improvement.
Overall, then, with the longer bike and T2, I took just over 2.5 minutes off my total race time (1:50:28 this year versus 1:52:52 last year). This put me 82/151 (vs. 93/164 last year) for women overall and 23/29 (vs. 25/33 last year) for my age group. This middle-of-the-pack finish doesn’t really bother me (well, not too much) though because I think this race has a really fast field. The top times for women in each leg were 11:17/46:03/20:30 (wow-za).
Takeways: Practice pays off, so I should probably keep hitting the roads every weekend on the bike (the trainer will just have to do for during the week because that’s all I can give cycling right now). Also, it ends up that a good bike fit kind of is like couples therapy for the bike and rider. I don’t hate my bike anymore. I actually even feel some affection for her again, and I suspect that our relationship will continue to grow as we train for the Finish Strong Aqua bike in September.
Finally, I need to stick to my nutrition plans no matter what my car bike rack tries to make me believe. Sheesh.
Monday, July 15, 2013
4 on the 4th (aka my birthday race)
A birthday race seemed like a good way to start my 37th year, and since this race was in Carrboro (not Chapel Hill, where I refuse to race; see Tar Heel 4-miler post below), I figured I’d go for it. Race morning, though, was incredibility hot and humid. So, I just decided to not push myself too hard (because it was my birthday after all): I would go out at a strong but reasonable pace and try to maintain a moderate effort. My goal time when I signed up was 32 minutes. I also, though, decided to run this race without the Garmin and rely thus just on perceived effort. I did end up using a stopwatch, which I was glad for in the end because I was able to at least get mile splits without worrying about “instant” pace.
After Jen Dixon and I did a ½ mile or so warm-up, we wandered toward the start. No one seemed to know exactly where were lining up or when we were starting, so the gun took more than a few of us off guard. The first mile was fast (a lot down hill). I hit the mile marker at 7:30, so I knew I’d best back down. The second mile was more even, but I was still feeling good, so I managed to tackle it in 7:50ish.
From there, though, it was pretty much downhill (not literally, alas). Mile 3 was just plain hard. I was getting really hot and tired, and it was everything I had to finish it in about 8:30. At the mile 3 marker, the watch said 28 minutes exactly, so I knew that I’d have to really motor to get an 8-minute mile at the end. When I realized that the last mile was essentially rolling hills, I decided to just stick with the moderate effort plan and not destroy myself on my birthday. I forgot this plan a bit when I hit the track leading to the finish, so I was feeling really craptastic when I finally arrived at the finish.
Official Time: 33:01.85. I think that I could safely subtract 15-30 seconds for the time it took me to cross the start line after the gun since it wasn’t a chip start, but I’m not going to sweat it. It was my birthday (have I already mentioned that?); I was ultimately just there to have a good time with my friends and get a good start to the day. Still, that time was good enough for 7th in my age group, and it was 18 seconds better than my Tar Heeler 4-miler time, so that’s a pretty nice birthday treat.
I’m also pretty psyched to be so close to my goal given the weather. Everyone was miserable, and almost everyone I talked to said that they lost between 1.5 and 2 minute per mile between miles 1 and 4. In my pre-race photos, I look all happy and smiley; the post-race photos I look like I was just seconds from passing out. I had so much sweat running into my eyes that I had to take my contacts out and walk around the post-race festivities half blind.
Takeways: I think that going into a summer race with realistic and flexible expectations was a smart move. I’m hoping that if I stick with the moderate speed work and consistent low-key, Garmin-less training throughout the summer, my fall race times will be all the better. That said, no more summer races (unless there is swimming involved too).
After Jen Dixon and I did a ½ mile or so warm-up, we wandered toward the start. No one seemed to know exactly where were lining up or when we were starting, so the gun took more than a few of us off guard. The first mile was fast (a lot down hill). I hit the mile marker at 7:30, so I knew I’d best back down. The second mile was more even, but I was still feeling good, so I managed to tackle it in 7:50ish.
From there, though, it was pretty much downhill (not literally, alas). Mile 3 was just plain hard. I was getting really hot and tired, and it was everything I had to finish it in about 8:30. At the mile 3 marker, the watch said 28 minutes exactly, so I knew that I’d have to really motor to get an 8-minute mile at the end. When I realized that the last mile was essentially rolling hills, I decided to just stick with the moderate effort plan and not destroy myself on my birthday. I forgot this plan a bit when I hit the track leading to the finish, so I was feeling really craptastic when I finally arrived at the finish.
Official Time: 33:01.85. I think that I could safely subtract 15-30 seconds for the time it took me to cross the start line after the gun since it wasn’t a chip start, but I’m not going to sweat it. It was my birthday (have I already mentioned that?); I was ultimately just there to have a good time with my friends and get a good start to the day. Still, that time was good enough for 7th in my age group, and it was 18 seconds better than my Tar Heeler 4-miler time, so that’s a pretty nice birthday treat.
I’m also pretty psyched to be so close to my goal given the weather. Everyone was miserable, and almost everyone I talked to said that they lost between 1.5 and 2 minute per mile between miles 1 and 4. In my pre-race photos, I look all happy and smiley; the post-race photos I look like I was just seconds from passing out. I had so much sweat running into my eyes that I had to take my contacts out and walk around the post-race festivities half blind.
Takeways: I think that going into a summer race with realistic and flexible expectations was a smart move. I’m hoping that if I stick with the moderate speed work and consistent low-key, Garmin-less training throughout the summer, my fall race times will be all the better. That said, no more summer races (unless there is swimming involved too).
Sunday, June 9, 2013
Raleigh Ironman 70.3 Relay (1.2 Mile Swim)
Semi-relevant background note #1: When I was 8 years old, I was terrified of the pool and wouldn’t leave the shallow end. Then, my parents told me they would buy me a Cabbage Patch Doll if I learned how to swim a length of the pool and jumped off the diving board into the deep end. This was all the motivation I needed. I even joined the kids swim team that year and won a few 8-and-under division ribbons (the glory days!). Swimming long distances quickly, though, never really crossed my mind until I discovered the exciting world of triathlons.
Semi-relevant background note #2: When I started training for my first triathlon, the thought of racing even 250 yards brought back some of those same 8-year-old fears. But I took some swim lessons (open water and stroke technique) with a coach, committed to swimming once a week, and I made it through. The coach told me, though, “if you want to get better, you have to swim at least 3 times a week.” In the back of my mind, I thought, “what-ever, all I have to do is make it through the swim."
But, it ends up that "just make it through" mentality kind of sucks. The swim sets the stage for the rest of my race. If I'm just getting by in the swim, I'm setting myself up to just get by for the rest of the triathlon. I started realizing this as I was getting ready for the White Lake International last fall, but since I signed up for the Ironman 70.3 Raleigh with Jen Dixon knowing there was a possibility that I would have to do the swim and the bike (thank goodness this did not end up being the case), I knew that I had to do whatever I could to set myself up for a solid swim. Even when I ended up doing just the swim (phew!), I had the added pressure of not wanting to disappoint (read: embarrass) my teammates. Plus, once I stared hitting the pool two or three times a week consistently, I figured out that swimming is actually a lot of fun, as well as great cross-training.
Race report proper (sort of): The night before and the morning of this race, I was just terrified for some reason. I was convinced I was going to drown and leave my child motherless. Totally irrational, I know. Still, it was happening. The parking troubles Josh Dixon and I had in our epic quest to get to the race site did not help my anxiety level. But I calmed down a lot when Jason Klaitman called and told us the race was wet-suit legal and even more once I got to the water and got caught up in the pre-race adrenaline excitement.
And the water felt great. I felt strong the whole way once I got started, and I was really happy with the experience—especially since it was my first wetsuit-legal swim competition. For context, here’s a look at what my swim paces have been since I started caring about swimming:
Triangle Tri (750 m): 2:48/100 meters
White Lake (1500 m): 2:42/100 m
Raleigh 70.3 Relay (1.2 miles): 2:25/100 m
I’m pretty psyched about this improvement. And I think that the relay time could have been better were it not for a crowded heat (the last heat of the race) and some choppy water that made me want to be more conservative. I also got smacked in the head pretty hard by a rouge wrist, and overall I think I drank about 3 gallons worth of Jordan Lake water. Yummy.
I was so happy with the race, in fact, that I signed up for an aquabike race from the same spot in September (slowly making my way to that full half-iron distance). Fingers crossed for more improvement.
Takeaway (in your Dory voice now; don't be shy): just keep swimming. just keep swimming.
Semi-relevant background note #2: When I started training for my first triathlon, the thought of racing even 250 yards brought back some of those same 8-year-old fears. But I took some swim lessons (open water and stroke technique) with a coach, committed to swimming once a week, and I made it through. The coach told me, though, “if you want to get better, you have to swim at least 3 times a week.” In the back of my mind, I thought, “what-ever, all I have to do is make it through the swim."
But, it ends up that "just make it through" mentality kind of sucks. The swim sets the stage for the rest of my race. If I'm just getting by in the swim, I'm setting myself up to just get by for the rest of the triathlon. I started realizing this as I was getting ready for the White Lake International last fall, but since I signed up for the Ironman 70.3 Raleigh with Jen Dixon knowing there was a possibility that I would have to do the swim and the bike (thank goodness this did not end up being the case), I knew that I had to do whatever I could to set myself up for a solid swim. Even when I ended up doing just the swim (phew!), I had the added pressure of not wanting to disappoint (read: embarrass) my teammates. Plus, once I stared hitting the pool two or three times a week consistently, I figured out that swimming is actually a lot of fun, as well as great cross-training.
Race report proper (sort of): The night before and the morning of this race, I was just terrified for some reason. I was convinced I was going to drown and leave my child motherless. Totally irrational, I know. Still, it was happening. The parking troubles Josh Dixon and I had in our epic quest to get to the race site did not help my anxiety level. But I calmed down a lot when Jason Klaitman called and told us the race was wet-suit legal and even more once I got to the water and got caught up in the pre-race adrenaline excitement.
And the water felt great. I felt strong the whole way once I got started, and I was really happy with the experience—especially since it was my first wetsuit-legal swim competition. For context, here’s a look at what my swim paces have been since I started caring about swimming:
Triangle Tri (750 m): 2:48/100 meters
White Lake (1500 m): 2:42/100 m
Raleigh 70.3 Relay (1.2 miles): 2:25/100 m
I’m pretty psyched about this improvement. And I think that the relay time could have been better were it not for a crowded heat (the last heat of the race) and some choppy water that made me want to be more conservative. I also got smacked in the head pretty hard by a rouge wrist, and overall I think I drank about 3 gallons worth of Jordan Lake water. Yummy.
I was so happy with the race, in fact, that I signed up for an aquabike race from the same spot in September (slowly making my way to that full half-iron distance). Fingers crossed for more improvement.
Takeaway (in your Dory voice now; don't be shy): just keep swimming. just keep swimming.
Saturday, May 25, 2013
The Doughman (2 tamales + 2.9 miles + 1 Locopop)
Since this is an unconventional race, I'm going to do an unconventional race report...
10 things I learned from my Doughman experience:
1. I can make a perfectly acceptable black studded choker out of ribbon, stickers, and self-adhesive Velcro. And even better: I can make four of them in less than an hour.
2. I can run in fishnet stockings.
3. Pink eye shadow and pink hair highlights rock my socks.
4. I love Durham even more than I thought I did. Great Durham moments of the day included: When I ran past a family walking down the sidewalk on Morgan Street, I heard the dad say to his daughter, “Well, this is Durham; you have to expect anything.” Later, a lady walked up to me at the finish area and asked me what was going on. I explained the race, and she replied, “Oh, OK, I knew this wasn’t your average farmer’s market.”
5. I love the people of Bull City Running Company and the Bull City Track Club even more than I thought I did (and it was already a lot). Great BCRC/BCTC moments of the day are too numerous to list.
6. I can eat “like a boss,” and apparently my teammates can as well (special thanks to Kim Chapman-Page for this new phrasal addition to my lexicon).
7. There is a beautiful comic irony in the need to shout “don’t eat the leaves” at a bunch of people eating vegan food (the “leaves” were tamale wrappers).
8. Mushroom and kale tamales, while delicious, are not the best pre-run food.
9. Fruity Locopops might actually the best post-run food.
10. (Last but not least) I would have likely fallen apart (or tossed my cookies) on this run were it not for the companionship and encouragement of the amazing Jen Dixon (thanks, g).
10 things I learned from my Doughman experience:
1. I can make a perfectly acceptable black studded choker out of ribbon, stickers, and self-adhesive Velcro. And even better: I can make four of them in less than an hour.
2. I can run in fishnet stockings.
3. Pink eye shadow and pink hair highlights rock my socks.
4. I love Durham even more than I thought I did. Great Durham moments of the day included: When I ran past a family walking down the sidewalk on Morgan Street, I heard the dad say to his daughter, “Well, this is Durham; you have to expect anything.” Later, a lady walked up to me at the finish area and asked me what was going on. I explained the race, and she replied, “Oh, OK, I knew this wasn’t your average farmer’s market.”
5. I love the people of Bull City Running Company and the Bull City Track Club even more than I thought I did (and it was already a lot). Great BCRC/BCTC moments of the day are too numerous to list.
6. I can eat “like a boss,” and apparently my teammates can as well (special thanks to Kim Chapman-Page for this new phrasal addition to my lexicon).
7. There is a beautiful comic irony in the need to shout “don’t eat the leaves” at a bunch of people eating vegan food (the “leaves” were tamale wrappers).
8. Mushroom and kale tamales, while delicious, are not the best pre-run food.
9. Fruity Locopops might actually the best post-run food.
10. (Last but not least) I would have likely fallen apart (or tossed my cookies) on this run were it not for the companionship and encouragement of the amazing Jen Dixon (thanks, g).
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