The emotional roller coaster of the past week has been like the worst bout of PMS but without the bloat. One minute I’m completely stoked and confident, the next I’m in a pool of tears ready to give up. I think the degree of “unknown” is getting to me. One of my tri tribe was kind enough to loan me a bike that weighs about one fifth what the Warthog weighs, but I’m terrified to go ride it, for fear of breaking it or whatever, so there it sits in my garage.
I can see light at the end of the tunnel, but is that light a door opening on a new way of life that involves riding and running and swimming? Or is it that cliched oncoming train? Maybe I’d feel differently if I had more time from the start of tri training to the actual triathlon date (Pro tip: 9 weeks might not be enough).
And oh god the money. From what I’ve spent so far, I could have gone to Hawaii on a painting excursion. Did I make the right choice when I signed up for this? What was I thinking? But then, just as soon as those thoughts hit, I’ll run into another triathlete and get a dose of encouragement. Or I'll see someone go by on their bike and think "I wish I was riding." Or someone in the office will say “oh my gosh, we’re so impressed!” and I’m back on the roller coaster of wanting to do this again.
My boss (and her boss) recommended I take Friday before the race off. I think they are trying to tell me something.
So this is it, kiddies. The next time all y'all see me, I'll be a USAT Certified triathlete. Not even Lance Armstrong can say that (right now anyway).
When I first started running back in 2005, one of my biggest motivators, and most crucial pieces of equipment was my iPod. I’m old enough to remember Sony Walkman, and Discman, and so when the iPod launched it was pretty awesome. On a long run you could listen to two or three albums by someone. My favorite running partner is the band Radiohead. Named after a Talking Heads song, these avant garde rockers provide the perfect soundtrack to running. There is something incredibly consistent about the beats, even when the tempo changes, that helps propel my feet along.
I also love to run to the Supersuckers, Pearl Jam, Fiona Apple, Neko Case, and LCD Soundsystem. I’ve been known to stop and do a little dance out on the trail when no one is watching. My Running playlist is pretty sweet, and like most runners I have my “power songs” (“Mountain Song” by Jane’s Addiction is my favorite) which help me find additional willpower or speed.
Imagine my heartache when I found out that you don’t take music with you on triathlons. Something about all that water, and safety issues with headphones and bicycles... So I’ve been attempting to run and ride without music. Even when I bring my iPhone (so that I can track my distances on Strava) I don’t bring headphones. It’s a challenge, but I’m getting used to it, and I find I actually like the sound of my own thoughts.
Of all the things I dreaded about preparing for the triathlon, the wet-suit was the one I dreaded the most. I was looking forward to getting fitted about as much as I look forward to a pap smear. My fears did not exceed the reality. My strategy was pretty foolproof. We (my super supportive hubby) and I got to Sports Basement in the Presidio right when they opened. We headed for the back, where the tri gear is, and Chris took a seat on the comfy sofa. I wandered around a bit looking at tri outfits (found one at an amazing discount) and after a few minutes an incredibly nice gentleman came to help me.
I gave him my weight and height details (I suppose the bright side is they don’t ask your age), and he came out with something that looked like a skinned seal. “It’s new, so unfortunately there isn't a lot of ‘give’ in it yet.” He tells me to put it on “like putting on panty hose,” using the pads of my fingers so that I don’t tear it, and making sure the crotch is snug where it should be. I take it into the dressing room, and start to wrestle with the rubbery jumble of skinny tubes that no way will fit. After about 10 minutes of tugging and wriggling, I get it most of the way up my legs. Nice Gentleman calls out “are you decent?” Me: “I’ve never been so indecent in all my life.”
Eventually I get it up over the caboose, and feel comfortable enough in my sports bra to venture out into the main area for help. NG tugs the thing over my arms, and teaches me a trick of bending over to get the suit to puff out in front - which I’m supposed to grab and tug upward toward my chest. Grab & tug, grab & tug. He zips it up, and warns me to make sure it is snug in the armpits and in the crotch, because those areas will fill with water. He also warns me of chafing, providing grody pictures of customers who did not buy Body Glide. It looks like the worst rug burn ever, in the most sensitive places ever. I buy some straight away.
Turns out after you get this much neoprene on, there’s no such thing as cellulite. It is by far the dorkiest thing I’ve ever worn, yet I’m smooth like a seal & look like a superhero. NG tells me that these suits are filled with tiny bubbles of air, to help you float. And he tells me (as does just about everyone else) that I have to do an open water swim prior to the event. Have to. Like something horrible will happen if I don’t. I only have two more weekends until the Big Day, so hearing this, the panic set in...
And then I turned it off. I remembered why I’m doing this (for FUN). If I get in an open water swim before, then cool. What is the worst that could happen? It takes me 5 minutes to adjust to the shock? It takes me so long that I’m the last out of the water? No matter what, it can’t possibly be the end of the world. I’ll be fine, because my goal is to have fun, and I’m already doing that.
My biggest challenge in training for this triathlon (or perhaps for my whole life) is my love of food. Food has been love, comfort, and a constant companion. Pretty much the whole reason I started running in the first place was in order to burn enough calories to eat the food I want to eat. For example, my net calorie burn for running is a little over a hundred calories per mile. A half marathon is 13.1 miles, so I should, in theory, be able to scarf down 1400 extra calories that day and not gain any weight. That’s like half a 14” pepperoni pizza washed down with a beer. Whoo hoo! Unfortunately use of that strategy hasn’t helped me lose these last 15 lbs.
It is also tricky to fuel adequately while training hard. Yesterday I was in the pool for 60 minutes of drills (note - side kicks are the worst for getting water up your nose, but I have to admit they really helped my form for regular swimming). This was followed by a 14 mile bike ride (oh, and there was 20 minutes of core workout in the middle). I'd had a small homemade lowfat banana muffin & a glass of milk for breakfast, and a Clif bar before the bike ride. When I got home, errands got in the way of eating right away so by the time we stopped for lunch I was STARVING and ate a cheeseburger and fries. Two steps forward, one step back.
So, with the Napa Tri less than 30 days away, I'm committing to eating healthier, and not trying to kid myself when I burn a bunch of calories on my bike, or on a run, or in the pool. Pinky swear to all of you.
Speaking of eating healthier, I'm not a big fan of the workout food industry. I don't know what chemicals are in there, and I don't like the idea of all the packaging landfill. I did a little digging on the internet, and found this version of an energy bar that I really like on Organic Authority:
BANANA ALMOND BUTTER GRANOLA BARS (Vegan-Friendly) On your stovetop, heat the following ingredients until well combined, reserving for later use:
Then, pour food processor contents into a large bowl, incorporating previously heated banana-almond butter mixture along with the following:
GRAIN -- 1 cup rolled oats
SEEDS --1/4 cup mixed seeds
Finally, press the whole kit and caboodle into a prepared 9-inch square metal pan, baking it in a 350 degree oven for approximately 20 to 25 minutes. Cool thoroughly before cutting into individual bars.
The website Loving the Bike has some good recipes for making your own sports drinks:
Per 8 oz. serving: 60 calories, 15 gram carbs, 75-150 mg sodium; Per hour @ 20 oz.: 150 calories, 38 grams carb, 187-375 mg sodium
Potassium is another important electrolyte in training, and it can be easily added from Morton’s Lite, which can be found at your grocery store next to the salt. If you do decide to add it, try ¼ tsp. per 64 oz. fluid (44 mg Potassium per 8 oz., or 109 mg per hour with 20 oz.). You can also use watermelon juice, as it is full of potassium, along with “B vitamins, calcium, magnesium, lycopene and phosphorus.
It’s hard to find your tribe sometimes. I keep looking, but usually end up feeling like the odd one out. For starters, I’m at the tail end of the baby boomers, but don’t really relate to them. I’m not entirely comfortable with Generation X either, lazy slackers. Not many people my age (or my gender for that matter) play videogames or love anime & martial arts films the way I do. But I digress...
[Tom Waits - I don’t wanna grow up]
With triathlon training, it’s been a similar experience. There’s no way I’ll be a HARD CORE PROFESSIONAL, and I’m not even as fast as a lot of people in my age group. By the way, in triathlons you’re either “professional” or an “age-grouper.” And if you’re larger, you’re a “Clydesdale” if male, or “ Athena” if you’re a female. What’s an overweight older Athena to do? While I was researching books for my project, I’d stumble over titles like “How to Train for a Tri in Less than 7 Hours a Day!” There would be chapters on becoming an Ultra-Uber-Fitness Champ (“After a short 10 mile warm up run at a 8 minute pace...”) and nutrition (“eat and drink nothing but ProBars - sponsored by ProBars”), and stories of muscular young athletes who look like otters in the water and the challenges they face. I’m pretty sure their challenges are nothing like mine.
Enter Jayne Williams, author of Slow Fat Triathlete. She is about my age, and started her career as a triathlete when she was 40 years old and weighed 220 lbs. This book is a really funny resource, and reading it helped keep me grounded in the fun part of exercise and training. Talk about “tribes,” she helped me realize that there are lots of people out there participating in triathlons who are not incredibly fit – people who are just like me. Her book isn’t just funny, it’s motivating and full of good advice for a layperson (how to avoid chafing, which she notes “the bigger you are, the more opportunities you have to learn about chafing.” Even my half-Ultra friends give it kudos. So, if you're thinking about trying a triathlon but aren't sure it's for you, give her book a read. You might find yourself proud to be part of the tribe that doesn't let something like age, size or speed hold you back.
“I want to ride my bicycle, I want to ride my bike
I want to ride my bicycle, I want to ride it where I like!” - Freddie Mercury
This week is the bike clinic. I’m feeling super terrific awesome about this for a couple of reasons, here they are:
1. I’ve been out on my bike a few times since it became my bike, and I love it. It’s got a comfy seat, and I can ride 8 miles without getting sore. My bike is also a tank. It weighs a ton, and I know I’m going to get looks this weekend when the Tri Club is all together looking spiffy and ready to roll. I nicknamed it “The Warthog, after one of my favorite vehicles from "Twisted Metal"
2. I bought a bunch of gear for it last weekend. Have I mentioned before how this sport is all about shopping? I have a wrench, some little metal thingies, an extra tube, a bag, a cage for my water bottle, a water bottle and gel gloves so my hands are as cushy as my tushie.
3. I’ve been hustling my BUNS off (literally and figuratively) in spin class. I always thought these classes looked stupid when I’d go past them at the gym - but they are FUN and you work up a wicked sweat in 30 speedy minutes. 10+ miles in under 30 minutes with changing intensity to mimic hills is hard but not too hard. UPDATE: The clinic went well. The Warthog got some strange looks, and that was okay. The only foreseeable problem is that my bike doesn't have quick-release wheels, so it makes changing tires a BFD. I'm going to take it by Mike's Bikes to see about swapping those puppies out.
I can see light at the end of the tunnel, but is that light a door opening on a new way of life that involves riding and running and swimming? Or is it that cliched oncoming train? Maybe I’d feel differently if I had more time from the start of tri training to the actual triathlon date (Pro tip: 9 weeks might not be enough). 
