Slacker
Friday, July 20, 2007
When the going gets tough, the tough...sleep.
This week, I've done about one-third of the workouts I was supposed to. Tuesday? Scheduled for a swim, bike, and short run-off. Actual? Bike. Wednesday? Nada. Thursday? Three mile run. And Ironman? Oh, only EIGHT weeks off! Arrrghhhh! What in holy hell am I doing? In my defense, I didn't plan to skip these days. Mid-week visitors, combined with birthday celebration, combined with a crazy-ass work week, combined with my complete inability to get myself into a morning workout routine has resulted in a poor (pitiful?) showing on the "actual hours logged" portion of the workout chart. Wednesday, my sister and brother-in-law, my dog, and my adorable fur-nephew Nolan (below), came to visit. I got out of work late, they arrived in Madison early, and (as one of my fav political bloggers would say) wallah! No workout.
Leonard and Nolan.
Then, up early yesterday to get the dogs to the park, have breakfast with the sister, and get on the road to Wausau for work. I should have been at the pool at 4:30 after driving back. I even had my gear with me. But a work crisis arose, and since I can't very well swim with my blackberry or take it biking with me and needed to be near a computer when I got the call I was anticipating, I was relegated to a quick three miles on the treadmill. Now, in full disclosure, I was done with everything by 8-ish. I should have hauled myself to the pool. I should've gotten my ass on the bike. But what did I do? Ate Thai food in bed and went to sleep at 9:30.
This, I've sternly told myself, is not very Ironman-ish behavior. I'm disappointed in myself, and frustrated with all that I didn't do.
I'm trying not to beat myself up over this. Better ten percent undertrained than ten percent overtrained. Must've needed the rest. Tough weekend coming up. And all that, et cetera. But it's definitely weighing on me.
I vow right now to do better next week. And the week after that. And the week after that. Right up until THE day. I will do better.
Posted by Erin 1:45 PM 1 comments
R&R
Tuesday, July 17, 2007
Today, I feel rested.
This, to most people, isn't a big deal. But to me? This year? Huge. Or, bigger than that, even -- ginormous.
You see, I've been tired for so long that I've pretty much forgotten what it felt like to wake up willingly in the a.m. ... or to not crave a nap more than anything else in the world almost daily... or to think how I can't wait to crawl into bed and fall asleep as soon after dinner as possible.
My dad, now a judge, used to tell my sister and I stories about law school. One particular story, told when both of us were considering law as our chosen careers, involved his group's weekly outing for beers, during which -- according to my dad -- they would all sit around and sleepily ask themselves if they were having enough fun to justify being out.
These days -- these past handful of months or more of Ironman training -- I can relate. Because going out for a drink or two, or catching a late movie, or just plain staying up too late now doesn't result in just being a little tired the next day. Rather, it's a push over the line into exhaustion.
I don't mean to whine. I know -- just like Chief of Stuff said -- that I chose this. And I have also chosen to have a couple of drinks or accept an invite out even when I knew I should be heading to bed instead, just to salvage some semblance of a social life. I've tried hard to do it all, and as anyone with half a brain cell will attest, that's just not possible. Something's gotta give. It always does. And with me, as an attempt to keep a bit of a balance in my life, that something has been sleep.
So, this weekend, I got what was possibly the Best Ever birthday gift that someone attempting an Ironman could get: two nights at what is, quite possibly, the most relaxing place on earth -- Sundara.
Any description of this place will fall short. It's an absolute pine-tree-surrounded oasis in the midst of the kitchy craziness that is Wisconsin Dells. There's no smoking, no cell phones, and thanks to the feng shui design, minimal corners or straight lines. This -- along with the unbelievable beds (featherbeds, fluffy down comforters, and gazillion-thread count sheets), the out-of-this-world robes that the resort encourages you to wear everywhere, and the self-guided Purifying Bath Ritual (a succession of different temperature showers, a sandstone scrub, steam room, hot tub, cool tub, and hydrating mist) that you can do to your heart's content -- creates what is, quite possibly, the epitome of relaxation.
Sunday was a pool day. Lounging in the sun, reading trashing magazines (throughout the weekend, I binged on US Weekly, Cosmo, Marie Claire, Glamour, and People, with some Stuff and Maxim thrown in for good measure), sipping on mojitos, and taking cat naps on the uber-comfy pool chaises. That was followed by being taken by Town Car (the spa provides transportation in town) to a great dinner at the Del Bar (good wine and lobster...yumm), and back to the spa for a nightcap and some sleep.
Monday morning, I woke at 8 a.m., raring to go, as this has been my weekend M.O. for as long as I can remember in this process. There's always a workout to start so I can get to something else later in the day, or a full day of errands to fit in. But Monday, I had nothing to do. Nowhere to be. And it felt great. Glorious. So I curled back into the massive nest of feathers and promptly fell back asleep until 10 a.m. I don't think I've slept that late in more than a year.
Then it was off to breakfast at The Cheese Factory -- an amazing little vegetarian restaurant with a funny name and an outstanding menu. I had Eggs Montery -- poached eggs over tomatoes and avocado on a croissant and topped with hollandaise -- and split the grilled cornbread (smothered in maple syrup) with CoS. Yummm. The rest of the day was spent wandering around the local outlet mall until the sun broke, then back to the spa for some pool time before getting a Sandstone Polish treatment and massage. Then sushi and champagne for dinner.
Notice how, in the above two graphs, there was not one mention of anything Ironman-related? That's because the two days at Sundara were totally devoid of anything to do with miles logged, miles yet-to-be-logged, average pace, heart rate, rpms, Clif Shots, Gatorade, endurolytes, or recovery drinks and icing.
This was, in short, just what I needed. Sundara wants visitors to "rejuvenate your soul"... and I'm sure that happened. But more importantly, my mind and body finally feel whole again, and ready to tackle the remaining eight weeks until race day.
Anyone close enough to the Dells should make a point of heading to Sundara, even for a day trip, pronto. And any 2007 Wisconsin Ironman-ers out there? Seriously consider a post-race trip. It's only an hour up the road from Madison and might be just the recovery you need. I'm not even close to being a spa-type girl, but this place? It's just that good.
Posted by Erin 8:53 AM 5 comments
Thievery
Wednesday, July 11, 2007
Just saw this on one of my favorite IM-related blogs, and I love it, especially because I loathe mornings more than any single, solitary person I know:
Get up. It sucks. Then it doesn't.
Go train. It sucks. Then it doesn't. Always in that order.
Yes. Yes. Yes. I guess if it was easy, everyone would be doing it, right?
Posted by Erin 12:53 PM 0 comments
More Vicarious Blogging - WIBA
Tuesday, July 10, 2007
Below is CoS's recap of the weekend ride.
*********************************************The 75-Mile Cycling Report Card: Grades by Chief-of-Stuff
Clipping In: B- (necessary, but difficult to do with consistent grace)
Clipping Out: A- (even more necessary and learned quickly)
Being Clipped In: B+/A- (seems like it should help even more, but you definitely look like a real cyclist)
Aerobars: C+ with room for improvement (surprisingly hard to balance in, but much easier to catch up to the Ironites when down in aerobars)
Pro-cyclist Nutritional Guidelines from Erin's Friend, Frank: A+ (Coke and a Snickers Bar...Get the man a MacArthur Genius Award!)
Biking Outbound Through Suburban Sprawl: D- (Whoever invented strip malls should be forced to spend their remaining days someplace soulless...like JC Penny)
Biking Inbound Through Suburban Sprawl: B+ (Nothing like 90 degrees, 300 minutes, and 75 miles to make you happy to see Fitchburg again)
Fancy Bike Shorts Recommended by the Trek Guys: AS (as in Ass Saver)
Pre-ride Respect for Erin: A (Just hearing about her schedule makes me tired)
Post-ride Respect for Erin: A++ (God, she does this every week!)
Posted by Erin 7:12 AM 1 comments
WIBA
Monday, July 09, 2007
This past weekend was WIBA here in Madison. No, not the local radio station, or the Women's International Boxing Association. WIBA -- as in the Wisconsin Ironman Brick Adventure.
And before I get any further down that road, the organizers of the event -- namely IronWil -- deserve a huge "thank you" and "well done."
I approached this weekend with a mix of excitement and trepidation. Excitement because I've been going it mainly alone all this time -- all those long, long training days -- and I'd finally, finally have some peeps to train with. The trepidation, as it would, stems from a different side of that same coin -- I'd been training with myself all this time. What if I couldn't keep up? What if I was nowhere near where I should be in my training? What if, what if, what if? Arrrghhhh. Overanalyze, anyone?
Friday was a 20-30 minute swim in Lake Monona, followed by an hour run (or, for me, an hour on the elliptical machine. Ugh.) and then dinner at Tutto Pasta.
Right off the bat, the first person I met getting ready for the short swim was TriAl, who had stumbled across my blog somehow. "Ahhh, Erin...yeah, you were the one who posted about the double Verona loop." This would happen again and again over the weekend, and not just to me. It seems that everyone training for an IM has a blog, and that they all know of/read up on one another. My theory? It stems from the incessant, obsessive search for race reports, combing them for what TO do, and what not to do, tips. As I discovered at dinner that night, I'm far from being the only one who does this.
The swim and elliptical were great (meaning, I got them in without issue -- at least, when I just swam and quit worrying about fast and thus, stopped floundering around), and then it was on to dinner. I couldn't wait to meet other Ironmen/women and Ironwannabies. For this mostly solo-trainer, it was like Christmas, in July.
Apparently, a lot of others felt the same way. Like 40-more-people-than-had-RSVP'd others. I was one of the first handful to arrive, and there were about four tables. But over the following hour, people just kept streaming in. I ended up at a table with a couple of guys from the huge Bloomington, IL crew, RobbyB -- who helped with organizing the weekend shindig, Jeff -- from my Wednesday-night swim group whom I hadn't yet met there, and a couple others. It was a great mix of veterans and newbies, and I garnered some great tips and a dose of confidence that yes, I could indeed do this. And, more than anything, it was fun. Fun to be around such great, nice, friendly people. Fun to have a chance to talk at length with others in the same boat.
After getting some swag bags from Hammer Nutrition, it was home to organize for the next morning and try to get some sleep. The swim, we learned at dinner, was to start at 6:30 a.m. instead of 7 a.m.
Chief of Stuff was going to do the bike portion of the day with me, so we decided he'd bring my bike with him at 8:15 (sharp) before we all clipped-in at 8:30 at Law Park. That meant organizing all of my nutrition for the next day, everything I needed for the swim, and what I'd need in terms of clothing for the bike. I finally hit the hay well after 11 pm.
5:15 a.m. came early. I wanted to be up in time to eat, digest, and walk over to the Monona Terrace for the swim. One peanut butter English muffin and a Gatorade sport shake later, I was headed out the door with my wetsuit and swim bag.
Walking over to the Terrace, I knew it was going to be hot. Brutally hot. It already was. And muggy. Did I mention hot?
The swim went relatively well. Not sure how much distance I covered (and this is my #1 big worry these days...the swim, and making the cutoff on that), but I was in the water for just over an hour and mostly felt good. By "mostly" I mean, except for the part where the (supposedly) digested English muffin thought that it had the run of my body, from stomach to mouth, to slosh around in since I'd been in a prone position for so long. I didn't know quite how to throw up in a lake without having to swim through it, so I bobbed around vertically for a bit to make sure everything was back down where it should be, and then started swimming again.
Long swims are odd things. You don't really get exhausted tired, like with running. Your legs and arms don't really burn like they do when climbing hills on the bike. But you get out of breath, and then you panic a little. At least I do. And I get bored. Bored because you can't hear much of anything (except for the electric whrrrr of the a-hole with his MasterCraft who was trying to decapitate swimmers in our little group), and bored because you just don't make much progress. It's slow going, and even though the Terrace looks close in the relative terms you'd use by bike or foot, when you're dragging yourself through the water, a mile looks like a hell of a long ways.
I didn't have a watch on, and with the group I got into the water having pulled far ahead of me, I panicked that I'd be the last one in the water. I pictured CoS standing there, my bike in hand, waiting for me long after every single other person had left. Or worse, getting out of the water when they were all there and on their bikes, ready to leave. Embarrassing scenarios, both. So I kicked things into high gear, and swam stronger than I thought I could until I was almost back to the Terrace. It was then that I saw a group swimming toward me -- part of OUR group. Whew. They were just on their way out on the out-and-back swim. So, I slowed a bit, tried to find a rhythm, and relaxed.
There were now two MasterCrafts pulling skiers and ski-jumpers in one small little area near the swim start, and the combination created competing waves. I felt like I was treading water. Every time I tried to breathe, regardless of what direction I tried, I got smacked in the face by a wave. In the spirit of self-preservation, I considered hopping out at one of the docks, but because I didn't want to look like a wimp, I swam on. Later, I saw others doing just as I had wanted to, and thought, Good, so I wasn't that far off.
The bike portion had three choices/groups. You could either embark on the full 112 mile course, leave from the Terrace and do one lap and then back (a little under 80 miles), or start at Fireman's Park in Verona and do two loops, also about 80 miles. I chose the second group. It was supposed to be well over 90 degrees and on urging of my physical therapist, decided I didn't need to push it with my hip. After all, I live here, and I could do the 112 if I wanted/needed to some other time.
The first part of the ride, going out McCoy road, all I could think was, "Gawd, this sucks." I wasn't happy about being bike-side. Neither, to be completely honest, was my backside. Before I knew it, though, we had tackled Whalen Road and headed into Verona. It was getting hotter, but in a weird move on the part of my body, I was feeling better and better (I almost never handle heat very well...I just don't sweat enough).
Perhaps part of it was talking our little group (as part of the bigger WIBA group) through the turns of the course. A) it made me feel useful, B) it got my mind off of me and onto what was coming up, and C) it was fun to hear people ask, "are we done with the hills now?" (Ahhhh, no. Not even close).
Again, before I knew it, we were in Mt. Horeb, stopping at the Mobil station which, by now, felt like a second home. Bikers streamed in, buying gallons of water and jockeying for a little patch of grass in the shade. CoS and I popped some salt tabs and split a Coke. It went down surprisingly well, and I saw a few others doing the same. Not sure why this works, but it just does. The same stuff that makes you belch when you're watching a movie and rots teeth is like some kind of super-endurance serum when biking on a 90-degree day. Go figure.
Back on the bike, my favorite part of the course was still to come. And this is what I love, in a sick sort of way, about the IM-Moo course -- I hate the quick turns and steep speed bump hills of Valley Road and Marsh View Road. I hate the gradual inclines on Highway G and 92 that aren't really even inclines to the naked eye (or motorist's eye), but seem to go on forever. But the course from Mt. Horeb on? Bring it! I love the steep downhills and steeper uphills. I love trying to get over 40 mph on Garfoot Road, and scaring myself on how fast I can take the corners. And I have a really, really special place in my heart for the Three Bitches -- the IM-Moo's infamous hills.
I don't know why I love this part of the course. Perhaps it's because it's challenging, technically. Perhaps it's because other people complain about its climbs endlessly and I just like a really good challenge. Perhaps it's because I know I can conquer the Three Bitches now without getting out of my saddle once, two times around, and keep pedaling on after the crest. I don't know what it is, but it just feels good. No, it feels great.
We stopped at Fireman's Park in Verona to refuel (WIBA included a SAG vehicle, overflowing with Hammer products, free of charge. Can anyone say kickass?) and you could tell people were feeling it. Or not feeling it, whatever the case may be. The heat was taking it's toll (it was HOT -- so much so, in fact, that it almost felt better to be pedaling on your bike than standing still, because at least you were creating a breeze that way), and people all around were talking about bowing out of the full-course or two-loop ride. Some were out of it, others had simply had it. I recognized that feeling. This course, especially on your first time out, could do that. Add a heat index of 100+ degrees, and it was easy to see how meltdowns (no pun intended) could happen.
But the thing I was pleased -- hell, almost giddy -- about, was that I felt good. Really, really good -- nutritionally, mentally, and physically (hip pain excluded). Were it not for the bad wheel and the PT's advice to take it easy, I would have been fueling up for my second loop.
And now, with the exception of the swim, I know I can do this. I've ridden 120 miles in pouring rain and did a sprint tri the next morning in an even bigger monsoon. I've done two loops of the course -- two times up the bitches -- in hot weather all by myself as dark was descending on Verona. And I've done the remainder of the course -- the stick of the lollipop -- and another loop in unbearably hot weather, and felt great doing it.
Back at my condo, I hopped on the elliptical for a quick 45-minute jaunt, and it wasn't until the last eight minutes that I wanted my workout to just be over. And then it was.
Lying on the floor, attempting to stretch afterward, CoS asked, "Are we okay?"
I furrowed my brow at him.
"I mean, you're just quiet, and I wanted to check in and make sure all is okay."
I laughed then. Out loud. Belly-laughed.
"Dude, I just worked out for almost ten hours. Cut me some slack."
Sunday, I cut myself some slack. I wanted to meet up for the rest of the WIBA festivities, but I wanted some time to myself more. So I woke up at 7 a.m. (couldn't sleep), hopped back on the elliptical for an hour and a half, watched the first stage of the Tour, and then had the Day of Erin -- complete with a Starbucks and Target run, eating brunch at Pasqual's, and sunning by the (noisy and overcrowded with splashing kids but still better than nothing) pool all afternoon. I even finished a whole book, start to finish.
What. A. Weekend.
Posted by Erin 11:44 AM 2 comments
Perspective
Friday, July 06, 2007
This is a few days belated, but wanted to get it down lest I forget.
On Wednesday, July 4th, I was scheduled for an open water swim, a 2-hour easy ride, and a 30-minute run (on the elliptical).
About 7:30 a.m., Chief of Stuff and my wonderful sister, Lindsey, got up with me to head to the lake. They didn't want me swimming by myself, although they later admitted that when I reached the opposite side of Lake Wingra, they couldn't tell my swim cap and arm flailing from the little bitty waves. In any case, it made them feel better, gave them time to take in a little coffee to start the day, and gave the dogs -- mine, Leonard, and my sister and brother-in-law's, Nolan -- time to run, swim, and play.
The swim went well. Right around a mile, and I felt strong. My arms weren't fatiguing nearly as much as they had been when I first started swimming in my wetsuit. And the only stops I made were brief ones to readjust my annoying, leaking goggles.
After the swim, it was on to biking. While Lindsey took the dogs home for naptime, CoS and I got geared up for a two-hour ride.
We headed up the bike path toward the Military Ridge Trail, stopping in Fitchburg to pick up some fluids. The temp was great, it was a beautiful day, and I was (finally!) biking new territory. But I couldn't relax. I had my whole family (mom, dad, sister, and grandmothers) plus four to six others, coming for a cookout at noon-thirty-ish and I still had to bike, another hour or so, shower, and run to the store before then. It was 10 a.m.
"I can't do this," I told CoS. "I want to just go back and get things organized." (am a little type-A, mostly at very inopportune times). He convinced me to do a bit more, and then we'd turn around and head back.
Riding back into the parking lot outside the Vilas Zoo, we spotted 1/2 of a couple who had been swimming with a different group that morning and had taken off on their ridiculously pimped-out, fancy, matching Trek Equinox TTX 9.5's just before we set off on our ride.
I was feeling guilty about not getting up earlier (notice a trend?) and about cutting my already way-too-easy ride short.
"Well, that's good. I swam longer than their group, and they biked just about as long as I did, today," I commented about the ultra-fit Equinox TTX 9.5 couple. "So maybe this is okay. I mean, I got a workout in, and I can always sneak out for a short ride this afternoon before or after I do the elliptical."
CoS said that he thought it was fine. But I kept prattling on, wanting to assure myself that I wasn't a wuss, and that I had some kind of business being in the Equinox couple's realm.
"Maybe this is their tough day," CoS offered, I'm sure wanting to end my obsessing.
I told him I doubted it. They looked like serious kids. Probably an easy day. But I was scheduled for sort of an easy day too, so maybe it was okay. Again, more prattling.
Finally, CoS found just the right thing to assuage my guilt and obsessing: "Erin, it's only Wednesday." He reminded me that this was good training for a mid-weekday, and that I didn't have to hammer out 100+ miles just because I had the day free from work (but thankfully left out the part of having to do that tomorrow).
"Let's go have a fun cookout, and enjoy the day. You're fine," he said.
And, I decided, I mostly was.
Posted by Erin 12:42 PM 1 comments
Woah
And I thought a little 112-miler this weekend was going to be tough.
Check out this article (thanks to Mel for sending it on!) on Matt Pomeroy's 4,000 mile bike ride across the country (dubbed "Matt Across America") to raise money for Lance Armstrong's Livestrong foundation in honor of his mother, who passed away in 2005 from breast cancer.
Of particular interest? Matt's blog, http://www.mattacrossamerica.com/ -- especially the July 4th entry, "Rolling Back Roads of Wisconsin," where he says that Prairie du Chien to Madison were "112 of the most difficult miles yet on Matt Across America." He writes: "Up & down, up & down, up & down . . . forever. Today was the number one climbing day of the entire cross country ride so far and the pain was compounded by the constant rolling which makes it impossible to find the right gear or get into a steady rhythm."
That's after 33 days' worth of riding, since May 31st, starting at the shore of the Pacific Ocean in Washington state and heading through the Rockies, Montana, and North Dakota. Surely anyone who's tackled the Horribly Hilly Hundreds or the IM-Moo course would agree.
Posted by Erin 11:40 AM 0 comments