Let the Off Season Begin

After Vegas 70.3 Worlds, I had two more races planned for the year. The olympic-distance MightyMan in Montauk, NY and the Rev3 Half Full 70-mile distance in Columbia, Maryland. Unfortunately neither of them happened for me.

Shortly after Vegas, I began feeling a slight pain in my left shin and knee. I started by working on it myself, thinking it was just muscle tightness, and easing up on my running for about a week but it only got worse. I went to see my Active Release Technique doctor about a week before Montauk and he sent me for an MRI to rule out a stress fracture. The test was on the Friday before the race and I wouldn't get the results back until after the weekend. I played with the idea of racing anyway, but not knowing if it was broken, I knew I had to let it go. Missing that race was a big disappointment but I still had hopes of making it to the start line in Maryland a week later.

On Sunday night I found out it's just shin splints. This news allowed me to fool myself for a week that I'd be fine to race the following weekend. I thought if I gave it another week of rest, I'd be fine by the following Sunday. I took a short, 2-mile jog to the doctor's office on Friday. We were going to apply some kinesio tape to help me run through the injury, but by the time I got there, I was almost in tears with pain. Game over.

My season began with an injury. After running the Boston Marathon in April, I discovered I had torn a muscle in my foot and was unable to run for about six weeks. I believe this affected my running all season, as I never quite got back up to the speed I had at the end of last year and going into the marathon. I finally felt like a runner at Timberman 70.3 in August, but I know now that doing Timberman only hurt me in Vegas, which should have been my real focus, it being a World Championship race and all.

What I need to remind myself of is that I also had some good races. Despite not running for about six weeks, I won my age group at Syracuse 70.3 at the end of June. I also won the Mighty North Fork sprint overall for the second year in a row (and a minute faster than the previous year). I won my age group by over 10 minutes (and set a new PR of 4:54) at Timberman. I had been trying to go sub-5:00 in a half ironman race for years and finally did.

I could dwell on the torn muscle, tick infestation, sun poisoning (see previous post) and shin splints or I could be proud of myself for the small victories in spite of all that. It's all a matter of perspective.

It's officially off season for me. The crisp Autumn air and falling leaves have me excited to do some leisurely rides on my road bike. No power meter, no agenda. I love running this time of year, but I also truly enjoy running in the winter and I think a few weeks' break will do my body good in many ways. Let's be honest...I can't worry too much about losing my run fitness if I feel like I never quite had it.

Vegas Ironman 70.3 Worlds Race Report

I always say you learn more from the bad races than you ever will from the good ones. That being the case, I think the race I had at Vegas 70.3 Worlds should earn me a degree. It was such an experience it’s brought me to begin writing race reports again; something I haven’t done in at least a year.

 Also, I feel the need to start documenting the stupid crap that seems to happen to me before nearly every race. To give you an idea, at my first NYC Marathon, the cab that was taking me to meet the ferry to Staten Island was rear-ended by a drunk who was still out celebrating Halloween. Before the Boston Marathon, I developed a nasty bike saddle sore that almost took me off the start line. That wasn’t so much the sore as it was the treatment. I decided to try tea tree oil and quickly learned that I’m seriously allergic to tea tree oil. So, it was only fitting that when I went hiking on Shelter Island two days before heading to Las Vegas, I come out of the nature preserve covered in hundreds of deer ticks. For anyone who doesn’t know, Shelter Island is known for Lyme’s Disease, a tick-borne illness that will screw you up big time if gone untreated. I started taking prophylactic antibiotics, which happen to cause hypersensitivity to the sun. I’m half Polish, half German. I don’t really need any more sun sensitivity than I already have but look out, sunny Las Vegas, here I come!

Despite all this, I felt confident the days leading up to the race, having just achieved my first sub-5:00 half ironman a few weeks ago at Timberman. Vegas is my “A” race, of course, so why wouldn’t I do even better there? Unfortunately, while my mind may say this, my body doesn’t necessarily have to agree.  Something that I did find a bit worrisome, however, was that I was getting a dull headache during every little training session I did in Vegas leading up to the race. These were not hard workouts and I believe I was completely hydrated. I made a mental note that odds are, I’d get a slight headache at some point during the race.

Race morning began with an easy walk down to transition and a quick bike check. I had been going back and forth with whether or not I should keep the bike shoes on the pedals, since it’s something I stopped doing, probably out of laziness, but one look at the crazy ass run up to the road and the answer was easy. I set them up knowing that even if I stumbled at the top of the hill when I went to put the shoes on, I’d still take less time (and risk less injury) if I ran up barefoot.

Before I knew it, it was go time. My swimming has improved quite well this season so I seeded myself up front. I realize as I write this that this is something I never would have done a year ago, especially with the level of athletes I was up against here, yet I did it without a second thought.

This was by far the roughest swim start I’ve ever been in. I even got my thumb sliced within the first few strokes, presumably on someone’s watch. It’s okay! I’m on antibiotics! The water was about as murky as the Hudson River, making it a little harder to see where everyone was around me, but I was pretty sure I was still up front as I approached the first buoy. I settled into race pace, found a set of strong feet to draft off of and stayed with her through the turnaround point. On the way back to shore, I thought about swimming around her and going off on my own but I resisted the temptation knowing I had a long, hot day ahead of me. Oh yeah, did I mention the water was in the 80s and the air temperature was around 100? In a non-wetsuit swim, I was very happy to come out of the water 11^th out of our group of 90.

Transitioning to the bike went just fine and off I went into Lake Mead National Park. I knew it was especially important that I not let myself be carried away by others in this very competitive field. I had to race my own race if I wanted any chance of having a good run. A few girls passed me right away. I let them go, kept my head down and did my best to stay focused. Singing songs helped push any other thoughts away and I found the new Gaslight Anthem song, “45,” kept me going most of the way. Funny, it even has “And the song just keeps repeating, drop the needle again” in the lyrics. And then there’s the very fitting chorus: “Hey hey, turn the record over. Hey hey, I'll see you on the flip side. There you go, turn the key and engine over. Let her go, let somebody else lay at her feet."

Somewhere around mile 20, I went to shift gears and dropped my chain. It got stuck in my derailleur and it took me probably two minutes to wiggle it loose and get it back on my chainring. It sucked but I didn't panic. Instead, I shrugged it off as just one of those things that can happen. You hope it doesn't happen in a race, but what can you do?

I knew how important it was to stay hydrated in the dry heat and took every opportunity to utilize the bottle exchanges, dumping half the bottle on my head, the other half down my throat, tossing the empty, grabbing a second bottle to put in the cage on my bike all in the span of about 30 seconds. I noticed the headache began somewhere around mile 40 but it wasn’t that bad and I was still enjoying myself out there.

I reminded myself to look around and appreciate the beauty of my surroundings. I’ve never been in a desert before and I found it breathtaking. The opportunity to race through the desert is something I never thought I would have and I was kind of pinching myself a bit. Maybe this is why I was surprised when I looked at my computer and saw that it was almost time to get my run on. I finished the bike in 14^th place feeling happy and strong, and excited to run.

My first mile was, I would say, “spirited.” I looked at my watch and saw a 7:05 minute mile. This is about my usual half ironman race pace, so it normally wouldn’t scare me into slowing down, but I knew I had to reel it in and conserve energy. The run course is tough. There’s no shade, it’s hot and it’s fairly hilly. I didn’t want to underestimate it and blow up. So, at precisely mile 2.5, I went ahead and blew up. I don’t think I’ve ever felt that bad at a race before. But you know how they say the only reason women have multiple children is because the body can’t remember pain? I think that’s similar to the only reason athletes continue to race. I’m sure one day (hopefully not soon) I’ll have another bad race and I’ll think “I’ve never felt this bad at a race before!”

I didn’t want to finish. It seemed like there was so far to go and I had been reduced to a walk. The slight headache became a thumping that reverberated through my skull with every step and I’m wondering, “why the hell do my hands feel like they’ve been dipped in hot wax?” My hands had gotten so badly sunburned during the bike that they now felt like they were on fire. I wasn’t thorough enough with the sunblock and the medication made it that much worse.

I figured if I walked the aid stations and maybe a few of the uphills, I could get enough time back by running the downhills, which would feel relatively easy. That became my new strategy. I wasn’t racing anymore. I didn’t care where anyone else was or who would catch me. I just wanted to finish. I just wanted to get my freakin’ tee shirt and go back to New York. Then I noticed a few pros walking as well. I saw Meredith Kessler walking and a few others I didn’t recognize. They could’ve easily quit and said they were saving themselves for an upcoming race but they respected their fellow competitors, and the race itself, enough to not do that. I had to finish.

And then, somewhere between miles 12 and 13, I noticed a few women in my age group gaining on me and I found my fifth gear. HA! I didn’t care how much it hurt. Being passed in the last mile sucks and after the day I had, I wasn’t about to lose another spot to anyone that close to the finish. It felt like forever and hurt beyond hurt but I pulled out a 6:03 minute mile. From where, I don’t know. Yeah, that’s pretty cool but if I had that in me, why couldn’t I have done that a little earlier with like half the intensity and spread it out a bit? That would have been much better.

I finished 12^th and I’m happy with that. Generally, the run is where I move up the most and, despite the hard time I had, I still moved up two spots from the bike. The hardest pill to swallow is that at 5:25, this was my slowest half ironman ever. I had a bad day. It happens to everyone at some point. It happened at Worlds for me but the bright spot is that my PR at Timberman has qualified me for next year and I will return with fierce determination to have the race I know I’m fully capable of having.

Sick Days

I tell my body to work harder, lift heavier, run faster. Sleep. Eat. Drag that freezing butt to the pool and get in. I tell it to get on the bike and ride for three hours or more without complaining. How dare it tell me no! How can I be sick? Ha! All too often, we don't think about our true well being until illness forces us to. Day two of sitting on the sofa, ordering spicy food so I get at least 20 minutes to breathe clearly...it's giving me plenty of time to think about it now.

My swim with a hero

I'm the kind of person who just puts herself out there all the time. Often, this leads to disappointment, heartbreak and frustration, and makes me kick myself for being so "open." But then something happens or I meet another really interesting, amazing person and I realize it's a quality I must embrace.

Case in point: about six months ago, I'm swimming, sharing a lane with a big but gentle guy wearing fins. He's creating a decent current and some "chop" and I joke that I'm enjoying it because it's good open water swim practice. He tells me I'm fast and challenges me to a race (him in fins, me not). I grin and accept -- anything to make my swim more exciting.

I happen to be on the side of the lane that has some crazy metal lifeguard chair that's attached in the water by a big metal pole. As I swim past the pole, I hit the back of my hand on it so hard that it instantly turns blue and starts bleeding. We finish the race (which was a close one, btw), he sees my hand and starts apologizing profusely. I think he was more upset about it than I was.

So I hadn't seen him since, but just this Monday, there he is. We recognize each other right away (and of course he still feels bad about my hand). Turns out, he is Marlon Suson, owner of the Ground Zero Museum downtown. Marlon was the official photographer at Ground Zero, the only photographer granted access during the recovery following the attack on 9/11. What Marlon did to document this sad part of American history is unbelievable. I'm visiting his museum this weekend and I recommend anyone who hasn't been there to go as well. Through his museum, Marlon continues to support all the heroes of September 11, 2001.

Do you carry star anise?

Has it really been this long since I've blogged? I wish I could say that with the season at a close, I took up and traveled somewhere exotic for the past few months. In reality, I think the most exotic place I've been since September is the ethnic spices isle of Whole Foods. Yeah, that pretty much sums up the past few months. Lots of cooking, eating, drinking, spending time with family. All the things I really don't get to do in the summer. But, before I settled into the easy life, I had two more big races after Toughman. A quick rundown:

October: MightyMan Montauk 1/2 IM. I went into this race thinking I could go sub-5:00 for the first time, since Toughman was pretty close and I had all those silly issues (even more than I felt comfortable blogging about at the time but let's just say not only did I forget and then lose 3/4 of my nutrition, but I also was dealing with "female" issues that by the run had become apparent to pretty much every other athlete and spectator. Use your imagination). Anyway, back to Montauk. By early morning, I saw how windy and cold it was. Even the lake seemed to have whitecaps! I knew sub-5:00 probably wouldn't happen and it didn't. I finished in 5:10, but good enough to be third female overall. I fought hard for the podium and can't thank my friends from Terrier Tri enough for helping me through the run. You guys are a class act.

November: NYC Marathon! This was my second marathon ever, 2009 being my first (also NYC). I can't believe the difference a year can make, both mentally and physically. On race morning, I felt so good. Not at all nervous like I was the previous year. It occurred to me as I began running over the Verrazano that in 2009, I was so petrified I didn't enjoy much of anything. This time it was different. I felt great, had confidence in myself, never hit a wall and actually pushed through the last 10k feeling like I could go even harder. I took 9 min. off my time, finishing in 3:14. I was 35th in my age group and 190th female overall, including pros! Even better, recovery was faster and easier than I remembered it being the previous year. I'm already registered to do it again this year.

After taking a bit of a Christmas holiday watching the snow fall and the firewood burn, I'm now three weeks into training mode, though not quite as much as I will be another month from now. I'm also dealing with some tightness in my lower left leg that's causing my achilles tendon to scream whenever I run. So, I'm back to my ART doc again to work that stuff out. Could be worse, could be July!

Toughman Half Ironman Race Report

A friend pointed out to me today that I always seem to have some kind of funny or weird story about every race I do. This is definitely true for the Toughman half ironman I did on Sunday.

Race day began as ordinarily as they come. Transition set up went smoothly, body marking…check, timing chip…check. I laid everything out the way I always do on my towel and made my way over to the water’s edge as I ate an Odwalla bar.

It was super low tide, so when the horn sounded, there was a whole lot of hopping, dolphin diving, more hopping, trying to swim…nope…more hopping. When I finally started to swim, I settled quickly into my pace and reminded myself that I need to race in the water and not once I get out, like I seem to always want to do. I’ve been doing a lot of sighting practice all summer since whenever I swim off the boat, I’m always watching out for other boats, rocks and whatnot. This proved to be valuable experience, as I was a lot better at staying on course and navigating the buoys. A couple times, I found the feet of a strong swimmer and drafted for a bit. It’s amazing how much energy this saves. Coming back to shore, again, it was swim, swim, hop, hop, dolphin dive, hop, hop. This is a lot of work to do before starting my ride, I thought.

As I emerged, I looked up to see my friend Kristin with a look of both shock and excitement on her face. She shouted that I was fourth out of the water and not far behind the leader. Sweet! I entered transition feeling really pumped. Just as I’m mounting the bike and congratulating myself on such a fast transition, I realize I’ve forgotten to grab my nutrition. All I have are the two water bottles on the bike, each with only 90 calories of carbs in it. Crap. I shook it off and figured I’d ration the two bottles and use the bottle exchange at mile 36 if I felt I needed to.

Throughout the bike course, I kept thinking, “they don’t call it ‘Toughman’ for nothing!” This is a challenging course. But wow, is it beautiful. At least there’s some reward for all the work the athletes put in. Not to mention the volunteers and cops at each intersection and along the course who were just amazing. Just as I finished my first bottle, I approached the bottle exchange. I slowed a bit, but decided I still had a whole other bottle and felt really good so I’d pass. Not more than a mile later, I hit a huge bump and there went the second bottle. Double crap. But instead of letting this get me down, I told myself, “Now you’re lighter. Move!” I know my pace picked up in the second half of the bike. I think it was partially because I just wanted to get back to T2 where I knew I’d have my Odwalla bars and gel flask waiting for me. That and there’s a nice elevation loss on the way back.

Back into transition, someone told me I was still in fourth. I was hoping to move up at least one spot on the bike, but given I was at such a huge caloric deficit, I was happy to have not been passed.

Finally getting some calories into my body felt great and though my legs were a bit wobbly, I was happy to be running. The run course is absolutely breathtaking. A large portion of it is through a park with gravel and dirt trails and for a while, I got to run through a beautiful park all by myself! Thankfully, the route was so well marked that I never had to worry about being off course and was able to just enjoy the moment. Like the bike course, the run is quite challenging. Because of all the hills, and changes between dirt and paved sections, my mile splits were all over the place, but I focused on pushing myself just enough and tried to not worry about the numbers so much.

At around mile 7, I reached a turnaround and saw a woman behind me moving in fast. I brought my pace up and tried so hard to hold her off but by mile 8, she passed and I knew I wasn’t going to catch her. In the end, over 70.3 miles, she was the only woman to pass me. I approached the finish and learned I was fifth female overall. Considering I did the entire race on about 300 calories, I’m happy with this and even happier to have taken 14 minutes off my previous ½ ironman PR; down to 5:05 from 5:19! Next up, Montauk MightyMan in three weeks, where I’m hoping to break 5 hrs. Anyone who knows me knows how much Montauk means to me and how much energy I draw just from being there. I’m really looking forward to that race!

Looking back...and ahead

This dry, cool weather has shown up at just at the right time. After taking a bit of a recovery week following Eagleman, I jumped back into training a little too quickly and ended up angering my calf right down to my foot last Wednesday while doing some speedwork. I forced myself to back off, which wasn't too difficult considering how hot and humid it got around here, and just as the oppressive weather broke, I felt ready to train. So, this past week, I've had some great workouts, including a 72-mile ride up to the orchard near Pomona, NY and back to Manhattan. On that ride, I think I climbed the cruelest hill I've ever encountered. It was so hard I felt it in my abs yesterday, but I followed through with my plan and had a successful 6x800 track workout followed by some strength training in the gym. Today, I'm looking forward to an early brick in Central Park and then it's back out to the boat, where I'll be getting in plenty of open-water swimming and trail running.

I'm also bringing my bike, which my family isn't too happy about. I never thought they were superstitious, but apparently, they are! They keep asking why I want to ride on July 4, exactly a year after my crash, on the same roads. My mom says she isn't taking a picture of me this time (the one here was taken the morning of my crash just after I ran the 10k to my parents' house and before I headed out on my ride). I guess it's just my way of exorcizing the demons that still plague me sometimes and rewriting the past.