Fast at Forty

Defying Gravity: Running on the Alter G treadmill

2012-01-24T20:46:00.001-07:00

In running circles, the Alter G treadmill is all the rage. Differential air pressure allows a person to run at various percentages of their body weight all the way down to 20% of full body weight. What a revolutionary idea, and the implications for rehab and recovery are endless. According to the Alter G website, their treadmill is, “a highly effective athletic conditioning tool for both recreational and competitive athletes by allowing the user to train longer, run faster, gain additional strength, and enhance cardiovascular performance while minimizing impact and stress on their joints.” And I thought it was just a cool toy.

A few short months ago, Boulder had nary an Alter G. It was an extravagance normally reserved for professional sports team, the Olympic Training Center and elite running groups. Now, Boulder boasts three of these monstrous machines.

I have had the pleasure on running on an Alter G at Altitude Physical Therapy (thanks Bob Cranny!!). The first time was just for kicks and the second time I ran an interval session. With cross country nationals around the corner, I need to channel my inner speed because at 8K this race is quite short. With marathon training and racing barely behind me, I realize that I am at high risk for injury if I do too much too soon. The Alter G is a perfect compromise – it gives me the ability to train at faster paces without the dangers inherent in traditional speed work.

Here’s how it works.

How hot are these? I'm thinking about getting some for casual wear.

1. Put on the neoprene shorts with the funky zipper. This is how you are locked into the treadmill. It is akin to running in half of a wetsuit. Your legs will sweat. A lot.

2. Zip yourself into the cockpit. Yes, that is what they call it. I looked it up. I had no idea what it was called. Plastic thingy?


Step into the opening...		...and then zip in.

3. Stand still while the treadmill calibrates your weight. Fortunately, it does not tell you the weight, so you can remain in ignorant bliss.

I'm getting weighed.

4. Increase the speed and/or incline as you would on any treadmill. Choose your desired weight reduction. It decreases in 1% increments. On my first run, I played around with different decrements in weight down to 65%. For my interval run, I chose 80%.

5. Have fun running at paces you would never see on the track or on the road.

Now, I am not a huge fan of treadmill running. It is not the boredom that makes treadmill running unsavory. Nope, it is the fear of falling off the back coupled with how crappy my legs feel due to the fact the treadmill changes my form. I tend to arch my back which causes an anterior pelvic tilt which causes me to over stride which causes my glutes to stop firing.You get the gist. It sucks.

The Alter G combats both my fear of flying off the back and keeps my hips in good position. Being locked in really makes a huge difference. I could grab my drink, wipe my face, and play with my iPod with reckless abandon (and sometimes all at once!) all with perfect form (well, in my mind it was perfect and there was nobody there to refute it). I did not feel like I was over striding and my normally fast leg turnover got a boost.

I'm not coordinated enough to run and hit the
buttons on the control panel.

There are a few drawbacks. The first and foremost complaint is that once you are zipped in you are committed. That poses a problem when you have to use the bathroom. I liken it to a kid getting all dressed in a snowsuit and having to pee. The other issue is that the control panel is difficult to maneuver when you are running at high speed. I felt fairly spasmodic trying to press the button to go slower. Eventually, I had to jump to the side and straddle the belt and lower the speed and then jump back on. But, these are only minor inconveniences compared the huge benefits on offer. I highly recommend you try it out if you get the opportunity.

Houston 2012: Olympic Trials recap

2012-01-16T09:16:00.005-07:00

Warning, this is a long one. But there are lots of good pictures, so keep reading!

I think one of the reasons I am so strong mentally is because I can be so fragile physically. Most of my races have been fought with some kind of ailment: asthma, injury, GI distress, dizziness. It has been a rare occasion for me to race with a blank slate, the only concerns being what the day throws at me. Sunday was not a blank slate. My legs felt heavy from the start. My rib injury ached. The aid stations were too far apart. But, I was able to push through and run my goal pace. The discomfort was made easier by the enthusiasm of the huge crowds lining the streets. It was electric. I could not believe how many times I heard my name called, it was inspiring to know I had so many supporters out there.

Ok, so you know how your car has a check engine light that goes on before your car blows up? A warning signal to tell you, get the hell out right now, bad things are about to happen. My body does not have a check engine light. It blows up before I have a chance to make other plans. Out of nowhere, at mile 17, I started to vomit. For the next 2 miles, I continued to run/walk as I alternated between vomiting and dry heaving. That was all fine; I was prepared to run through it. What I couldn’t run through was the accompanying dizziness. I have dealt with paralyzing dizziness before and I have learned that I have two options, (a) stop and lie down until the dizziness passes (which can take several hours) or (b) keep going and pass out and get carted off the course in an ambulance (I have done that and it really sucks). Rather than have an unnecessarily dramatic exit off the course, I chose option (a).

And that is my tale of woe. There is a lot to be happy about, though, and that is what I am focusing on. Against all odds, I qualified for the trials. As I set new goals for myself over the years, I will remember this challenge and use it to get me through the rough patches, to know that it is possible to overcome the seemingly impossible.

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

This is the very official looking credential.

The experience of the Olympic trials was amazing. The atmosphere was so much different than any of the previous trials I went to. This felt like a big deal. There was media hype. The hotel was decked out in trials posters. The hospitality suite was heavily guarded by armed police who only let in those individuals with proper credentials (ok, they weren't armed, but they were very strict). There were lots of athlete meals and functions. The athletes were made to feel important.

I do have to point out though, with all of the attention given to this race, why on earth didn’t NBC show it live?

Some memorable moments from the weekend:

Some of the Boulder crew before the race.

Colleen, JZ, Katie, Amanda

Instead of the XXL race shirt they handed out they should have given us shirts that read "I went to Olympic Trials and all I got is a crappy goodie bag"

Shirt, hat, plastic cup, pin, notebook: not very impressive

There were very strict uniform specifications. Only one logo per article of clothing and the logo had to fit into a very small rectangle. Everyone had to bring their race outfit and anything else they planned to wear race morning, including sweats, back packs, watches, sunglasses, to the officials so they could be checked. Anything that did not meet their standard had to be taped over. I am talking, tape over the teeny tiny little Garmin logo on my watch and the teeny tiny logo on my sunglasses and the very unfortunately huge Running Republic of Boulder logo on my top (luckily the race number covered it up).

Very professional looking tape job

The athletes seem to enjoy a good arts and crafts project. The decorating of the water bottles was a BIG DEAL. There was a table set up with tape, pipe cleaner, and stickers, although most people brought their own materials. I came prepared with two types of duct tape, hot pink and blue with white polka dots (Target is so handy). I used silver pipe cleaner to make a handle.

Even Abdi, the guy in red who finished 3rd, got excited about bottle decorating

My awesome looking bottles

The pre-race meeting was immense. Hundreds of athletes and their supporters crowded the large room. They went over every detail. Instead of wasting our time in a meeting, they should have figured out how to get more water on the course.

A very crowded room! The anxiety was palpable.

You know how teachers say there is no such thing as a dumb question? Well, that is not true. Athletes ask dumb questions at race meetings. For example, one guy asked “Can we get outside assistance.” Um, really? This is clearly not your first race, so you should know that is race sin number one. Another asked, “Can we carry our own gels with us.” No comment.

I started the race with gloves. Around mile three, I tossed them to the side of the road. I heard a spectator say, “Oh goody. A souvenir.” Please wash them. I used those gloves to wipe my very snotty nose.

Just in case you were wondering, which you probably weren't, my last name rhymes with tiger. I heard lots of strange and inventive pronunciations of my last name during the race. I'm thinking of changing it now after hearing some better renditions.

The aid stations are not at all like in triathlon or any other race you have done. There were 47 tables with 8 athlete’s special needs bottles on each table. At the very end of the 47 tables there was a table with cups of water and a table with Power Ade. It was nearly impossible to grab the special needs bottle and a cup of water. So, I never had any water. The tables were every 5k, not every mile like in most major marathons.

Can you see my bottle there, second from the left?

I had the best cheering squad of any athlete out there. Mark, my good friends Billy and Lara (and baby Paige) and Russ and Eola Scott (parents of my friend Amanda who was also racing) donned multi-colored afro wigs and held up the funniest signs. Thanks guys, you rock.

You know how spectators always tell you "you're almost there" at mile 5? Here is the truth.

Can't let the ridiculous uniform rules go unnoticed!

Sometimes you just have to state the obvious.

The awesome cheering crowd Tebowing. Unfortunately, it did not help me or Tebow on Saturday!

Tapering Sucks

2012-01-11T09:08:00.000-07:00

Tapering is a necessary evil. In order to race fast, one must shed the heavy training load and freshen up. I realize this conceptually. In actuality, I detest tapering. Taper. The very word is fraught with so much emotion. It means that a key race is around the corner. Every single workout is carefully dissected into minute detail to determine whether that particular workout has any specific bearing on race day. Workouts are shorter and less intense, which is a bummer when you really enjoy the daily grind. Then you start to question every twinge and ache and wonder if it is catastrophe in the making. If you hear somebody cough 6 blocks away there is the fear of contracting Ebola. No question, tapering for an important event sucks and makes me cranky.

I have been a competitive athlete since the age of 7. That means I have 34 years of tapering behind me. It has not gotten any easier! As a swimmer, taper week meant lots of dives off the starting blocks and tons of sprinting. Since I did not like to do either of those things, tapering was a nightmare. When I was old enough to understand the importance of a taper I did learn a very key piece of information– too much taper meant I would be flat for my races and I would underperform. I was envious of the sprinters getting in the pool for 15 minutes and then spending the rest of the workout in the shower. But, I knew I was always better off maintaining decent yardage while cutting back on the hard intervals, a taper method I adhere to even now.

Tapering as a triathlete almost feels like a crap shoot. How on earth is it possible to get three sports to feel good on the same day? For starters, you cannot taper all three sports the same way. You may need more rest for running than swimming and cycling, for example.

I have been known to do some crazy things during a triathlon taper, such that a friend once dubbed my particular mode of tapering “the JZ taper”. Here’s why. I once did a century ride the day before a sprint (I was second by 3 seconds and my coach never let me live it down). I rode the entire bike course the day before I won the Buffalo Springs triathlon many years ago. I have also been known to pound out a master’s workout a few days before a race. For the bigger races I would not participate in such bad behavior, but you get my gist. I tend to do a little more than the average Joe.

I would never be so cavalier with running though. Running, by its very nature of increased pounding is much harder on the body. This week, as I prepare for the Olympic trials marathon, my run volume and intensity has been chopped dramatically (yet, I am still so damn hungry. What’s up with that?), but I am not sitting around doing nothing. Our interval workout yesterday consisted 4x5 minutes at race pace which is about half the amount of intensity of a usual workout (and also, 5 minutes is a much shorter interval time). In case you were wondering, which you probably weren’t, I did swim master’s yesterday; some habits don’t die.

The bottom line is even during taper week, to include some short, race pace intervals. Do not go out on your regularly scheduled group ride and kill it for two hours as that will most certainly kill your race. If you feel tired or your legs hurt, shorten your workouts, but do not cut it out entirely unless you are sick.

I am never sure how many days out from the race is the ideal day to start feeling good. Is the Sunday before too early? Is two days before too late? I guess, really, it doesn’t matter how you feel before the race as long as you feel good race day! So don’t fret about how your body is reacting to the taper until the gun goes off. If you still feel like crap then, start worrying.

Field Filler: 2012 Olympic Trials Marathon

2012-01-04T12:32:00.003-07:00

The 2012 marathon Olympic trials in Houston are a mere 10 days away. I thought this would be a good time to address a question my good friend Lara raised to me over the summer, “What do the Olympic trials mean to you?”

Each Olympic trials event has offered me an opportunity to compete against America’s best. Not even a National championship garners such a competitive field. I have borne witness to the nervous excitement of my fellow competitors, relished the undertones of “it could possibly be me making the team”. I have seen (and been) the walking wounded. Everyone is there riding on the coattails of hard work, heart ache, and supreme dedication.

The Olympic trials are a spectacle, qualifying is an honor, competing is exhilarating. Like any sporting event, there are pre-race predictions, athletes are hyped, and experts pontificate on how the races will unfold. The beauty of sport, and the reason why races are contested, is that nobody has a crystal ball and ultimately surprises happen on the big day. I love being a part of all of that.

My own experiences at the Olympic trials have been varied – the purposes of each race have been different, yet each one has helped me grow as an athlete.

When I competed in the swimming trials in 1988, my motivation was to gain national experience and observe firsthand the inner workings of making an Olympic team. I had no illusions that I would place in the top 2 of my events; I was there solely as field filler. If it were a ballet, I would be in the company. If it were a movie, I would be an extra. My role at the trials was an important one; certainly nobody wants to attend a swim meet with 10 people in each event. Hence, the majority of the field is there to round out the events. And in typical American dream fashion, perhaps a field filler athlete would defy the odds and catapult onto the world stage by making the Olympic team.

I viewed the 2000 marathon Olympic trials as a dress rehearsal for the triathlon Olympic trials which were 3 months later. It was a chance to shake off the cobwebs and learn from the mistakes of the top contenders. While I was intent on running a personal best, there was no pressure. I lapped up the enthusiasm of the spectators, riling up the troops that were lining the section of the race that went through Fort Jackson by getting them to cheer me on. And, on this occasion, a field filler athlete won the event, toppling the pre-race favorites.

I competed in three triathlon Olympic trials. They could not have panned out more differently. In 2000, I improbably qualified for the Sydney Olympics. I hobbled into the 2004 trials with an ongoing back injury. I ended up pulling out during the bike. After a 2 year hiatus from ITU-style racing, I decided to make one final attempt at qualifying for the Olympics in triathlon in 2008. While I missed the team, I finally got the needed closure from that style of racing and later that year I won the Ironman 70.3 World Championships, softening the blow of not competing in the Olympics.

And that brings me to the 2012 marathon Olympic trials. Once again, my role is that of field filler. A record number of women qualified for these trials, a testimony to the growing long distance running talent in the US. And, for the first time ever, the men and women will be competing on the same course on the same day. The Houston marathon and half marathon take place the day after trials – built in spectators? The looped course makes viewing the race friendly (although all too easy to step off if the day goes awry).

My two objectives for the race are simple: 1. run the best race I possibly can on the day and 2. savor the moment, because you never know if you get another chance.

Happy New Year!

2011-12-27T10:27:00.000-07:00

Here we are again, the end of the year. The past 12 months have both flown by and crept along. As I have written in the past, I am not a huge fan of New Year’s resolutions. I do, however, think this time of year is perfect for reflecting on the positives, learning from mistakes and using the lessons as an opportunity for growth. While I do not plan on making specific resolutions, I have come up with a very seemingly simplistic goal that I am sure will be maddeningly difficult to achieve.

My goal stems from a daily observation of Diesel the Dog. He wakes up every morning in a glowingly happy mood; he is unequivocally excited to start the day. He jumps on our bed with a brilliant smile, tail wagging, and licks our faces until we get up. He bounds down the stairs, goes out to do his business, and eats his breakfast with a gusto usually associated with a special meal not the same old kibble (seriously, he does the happy dance for every single meal). He approaches the day with such cheerfulness and wonder and possibility: Will I play Frisbee or chase a ball or run? Will I get some table scraps or a snack? Will I get to bark at the passersby? Will I nap for 18 hours? Will I get scratched behind the ears?

In stark contrast, I wake up without much thought. Some days I am happy, some days sad, some days sore, and some days wondering what the heck that crazy dream meant. I get out of bed and mindlessly go through the morning routine, looking forward to my first cup of coffee to jump start my brain.

What if I make an effort to wake up eager and ready to seize the day? Will my days reflect that enthusiasm?

Now, I am not naïve enough to think that morning jubilee will make each day a special day. I do think, though, if I am positive and happy in the morning, even if the rest of the day goes to shit, at least I had a few moments of glory before it all went wrong and perhaps the more positive outlook will become a self-fulfilling prophesy; feel good things and good things will happen.

Happy New Year.

5 Tenets of Racing

2011-12-20T11:54:00.000-07:00

Managing a race is like putting together a puzzle; the pieces have to fit together just so for a perfect day. Rarely, if ever, do the pieces coincide in such a manner during a race which always leaves me with a feeling that things can be better next time, that if I can change “x” than I can have that elusive perfect day. The problem is that once I think I have learned it all, a new “x” pops up and throws me for a loop and I am therefore enticed to the start line to fix that problem. You can see how this cycle repeats itself time and again, continuously beckoning me back to the races. Hence, the puzzle is never completed.

I have learned, though, that there are certain givens in racing, the so-called “tenets of racing”. If you learn these, you can at least eliminate some potential problems, which of course, leaves room for any number of new problems that will leave your puzzle forever incomplete.

1.    What feels easy at the start feels hard at the end
Having just run a marathon, this tenet is fresh in my mind. The first few miles of the race I was amiably chatting and joking with the competitors around me. By mile 20, I was solemn, not noticing or caring about those in my vicinity. The pace in the first 20 miles felt like jogging, but by the end it was arduous and instead of holding steady my pace was bouncing around like a ping pong ball. Proper pacing is essential; do not be deceived by the relative ease at the beginning, which brings me to point 2.

2.    Don’t go out too hard
The feeling of comfort at the start of a race lures people into a false sense of what they can achieve. An athlete I coach recently competed in an Ironman. He went through the first half of the bike 10 minutes faster than any half Ironman he had done. The result? A DNF. I asked him why he went so fast in the beginning and he replied that it felt really good. Going out too hard is not necessarily a subjective measure – you cannot rely on how you feel, because you should feel good. You need to preset a pace, wattage, or heart rate, all of which are objective measures, to dictate how you will execute the early stages of your races. I always tell my athletes before an Ironman, nobody ever finishes an Ironman and says, “I wish I had gone harder on the first loop of the bike.”

3.    Training never lies
When deciding race goals and strategies, look to your training. What wattage did you hold on your long rides? What pace did you run your intervals? Were you consistent in your workouts over a long period of time, or were you hampered by injury or illness? All of these parameters will guide you toward making the right decisions in race execution. Leading into the Twin Cities marathon I had many workouts that indicated I was ready to run a PR. But, I also had many workouts hampered by my rib injury signifying I was ready for a DNF. I ran the race hoping for the best. My training told me I should expect the worst, and so when I was unable to finish the race due to rib pain it was not a shock. Conversely, my training leading up to CIM was much smoother and I did not miss any workouts due to the injury. My race pace and finish time mirrored my training paces.

4.    It is hard to imagine things going wrong when things are going so right
Races often start off spectacularly. The execution is perfect, the weather stunning, the day unfolding according to plan. Then, suddenly, you get a flat tire. Or, your stomach starts to rebel. Or, your bottle with your nutrition falls off your bike. Or, your legs start to cramp. Or, you get dizzy. Or, you go off course. Or, a recurring injury flares up. Or, your body just falls apart. Or, … Any number of things can happen during a race ending a seemingly ideal day . The most you can do is manage the problem if possible or call it a day if your health is at risk (or if your bike is unrideable).

5.    Have fun
This is the single, most important tenet of racing. If it isn’t fun you should find another hobby. Success in sport is difficult and requires time, patience, perseverance, and heart ache. Ultimately, there must be an element of enjoyment to make it all worth it, to balance out the negatives. I distinctly recall, at mile 16 of the marathon two weeks ago, thinking to myself, “Wow, I am really enjoying this race.” The crowd support was motivating, my body was cooperating, the course was suited to me, and I had people to run with. I truly took some time to enjoy the moment.

I realize that these 5 tenets represent a mere fraction of the overall “tenets of racing.” I have many more and I am sure you do as well. But, I cannot spill all my secrets at once, can I?

Fast Tracking Marathon Recovery

2011-12-14T08:59:00.000-07:00

I admit it. I am a compression sock junkie.

I read something this morning that jolted me. The marathon Olympic Trials are in 31 days. That is really soon. When I signed up for California International Marathon, I knew the turnaround time until the trials would be short, but seeing it on paper like that was disconcerting. I have no illusions that I might make the Olympics; unless of course, all the top contenders don't show up. But, I would like to have a race within the bigger race. A race amongst the middle of the packers looking to improve their times, have a respectable day out and be a part of history.

I have no idea, really, how long it takes to recover from a marathon. Every person needs a different amount of recovery from a race, and even within individuals recovery will vary depending on how the race unfolded. Finishing a race in which you cramped badly will garner a longer recovery than a race that went smoothly. My calves seized up at the end of CIM and not surprisingly these are the muscles that have been slowest to bounce back.

So here is how I have handled the last 10 days.

I didn’t run for a week, but I swam, walked, ellipticalled and started back at the gym. This was a more aggressive plan than after the LA marathon in March, but I felt good last week and I kept the intensity low and the duration short. When I finally did run, it felt stale and slow (so slow that Diesel the dog kept imploring me to run faster by going in front and pulling me) but yesterday I actually felt quite peppy despite the cold temperature. The gym workouts are incredibly necessary, as there is still some re-building to do from the rib injury. I am hoping that what I lack in running between these races I can make up for with added strength and further healing from the injury.

Non-training aspects of recovery are also imperative. I have been sleeping and eating a lot. The extra rest has been helpful, although it has been odd sleeping later and not having the accountability of morning workouts. I have embraced this extra sleepy time, especially since it is so cold and dark. In terms of diet, I included two meals of red meat for iron, lots of veggies every day, plenty of V8 juice for electrolytes, as well some of my favorite sweets – because if you can’t enjoy junk food after a good race, when can you? I also started taking fish oil which is supposed to help with inflammation.

Massage has been an integral part of my recovery for my entire triathlon career, so I am used to massage discomfort. Nothing prepared me for my first post-CIM massage. I felt like I was being attacked, my muscles were so tight and swollen they did not welcome sharp elbows and strong hands trying to calm them down. The massage, coupled with dry needling, ultrasound and stretching, eventually allowed my aching muscles to relax and within the week the hobbling slowly morphed into regular walking. Compression socks have become a regular wardrobe accessory. They go great with jeans and fit nicely under boots. I know that ice baths come highly recommended, but it is winter and I am already cold without stepping into a mound of ice.

I still have no idea how the next few weeks will unfold. All I can do is listen to my body (and my coach) and hope for the best.

CIM - Olympic Trials Qualifying

2011-12-05T13:31:00.001-07:00

The day before the California International Marathon I was confronted with two very tough decisions, both involved water bottles.

Many marathons offer the elite runners tables at the aid stations to place special fluids. This is an incredible perk, one I did not have available at the LA marathon in March (I actually used a fluid belt and carried a bottle with me). The athletes go to all kinds of trouble to decorate their bottles in an effort to make them stand out. When I got to the hospitality suite with my strikingly unadorned bottles, I realized I would need to remedy the situation.

This was my first dilemma. What could I use that was available in the room to beautify my water bottles so I could easily detect them on the fly? I got creative and used some pink and silver packing tape and ripped up some note paper to make my name and number visible.

I was quite proud of my artistry, but it seriously paled in comparison to the bling that some of the other athletes placed on their bottles.

This particular bottle, though, wins the contest for best dressed.

The second quandary was choosing which 5 aid stations to place my special needs bottles out of the 17 total aid stations on the course. This may seem like a trivial issue, but I assure you this is a very strategic problem. Should I evenly space the bottles? Should I front load the bottles? What happens if I miss a bottle? In the end I chose to place them at miles 5, 10.3 15.5, 19.3 and 22. I successfully retrieved the first 4 bottles and somehow missed my last one. Luckily I had an extra and Power Gel and SaltStick tablets to keep me going.

+++++++++++++

Tell someone you are running the California International Marathon and they will reply “Wow, that is a really fast course.” What a ridiculous comment. The course is only as fast as the runner who runs it; it is like saying a high tech bike is fast, which it isn’t if the rider can only manage 10 mph. Anyway. Here is the course profile.

The eye immediately notices the marked downhill nature of the course. What the eye does not immediately notice is all of the bumps that comprise this net downhill. Take a closer look. The starting elevation is 366 feet and the finish line is at 26 feet. Yes, that is a quite a large drop. But. It really isn’t. You see, if the course dropped from, say, 10,000 feet to 2,000 feet, then it would be almost entirely downhill. This course is made up of lots and lots and lots and lots of rollers. It is up and down the entire way until the end where it flattens out. It is a grind and a killer on the legs.

My race strategy was to run behind the designated pacer, a fellow brought in to help the hopefuls acquire the Olympic trials standard of 2:46.00. A gaggle of women followed behind what one racer declared was “the luckiest man in the race”. After a mile or so of tripping over the people around me and altering my gait to stay in the pack I made a decision to move ahead and run my own race.

Luckily, I found another pack of 4 men and women to run with and through 24 miles I sailed across the course easily running up the hills and floating down the hills. For the first time ever, I felt like a runner. I was smooth, in control, charging forward with purpose. It was amazing; until it wasn’t.

The last 2 miles I started losing control of my limbs. I stumbled over my own feet. My form deteriorated making me feel like a marionette. I stopped checking my pace. I started calculating in my head how many more minutes I had left to run. They ticked by ever so slowly. I was relieved, elated, emotional, when I crossed the finish line in 2:43.48 a PR by 3.5 minutes. I was 6th overall and 4th masters. Those old ladies are fast.

Qualifying for the Olympic trials in the marathon was a goal set almost on a whim earlier this year. It took three tries with a series of ups and downs that tested me physically and emotionally. Was it worth it, you ask. Unquestionably!

I cannot say enough thank you's to my friends, family, supporters, therapists and well wishers. All of you make all of this possible.

Gray Day

2011-11-15T15:25:00.001-07:00

The title of my blog, Fast at Forty, still holds veracity. I firmly believe, at age 41, there are best times in a variety of distances in my future; and, I know that many of the over forty crowd can make improvements in their racing. I am far more knowledgeable about training and recovery than when I was in my 30’s. I know that I can delay the onset of muscle degradation inevitable with age by working out diligently in the gym. Incorporating intervals into my training will slow down the demise of my VO2max and lactate threshold. The years of training have given me an incredible aerobic engine and the ability to race smart.

But, here’s the rub. Nothing will make you feel old faster than gray hair. Yep. I found a colony nesting atop my head. These uninvited guests have made me realize that, holy crap, I am 41! Where did these intruders come from? They seem to have popped up overnight, mocking me as I stare incredulously at my reflection in the mirror. Some will say that gray hair is very distinguished. Whatever.

Fortunately, these ugly strays blend better in my shade of dirty blonde than a dark brown or black. For now, they are fairly well hidden, as they are well outnumbered by the non-gray. Although, since I am airing my dirty laundry, I will know who my readers are, as I will see them squinting at my head, looking oh-so casual, as they try to pick out the unwanted strands.

I realize that there are “techniques” to hide the infestation. Since I already use these “techniques” to brighten my curly mane, the aforementioned gray hairs have managed to infiltrate the system. Damn. I have to up my game. And, WTF, why are these hairs straight when the rest of my hair is an afro?

I have been able to delay the onset of aging in terms of athletic performance. Mother Nature, or genetics, bested me in the hair department. I am dreading the day I wake up and find the grays have moved south.

Time for Change

2011-11-09T12:45:00.002-07:00

The triathlon season is winding down. This is a perfect time to reflect on goals attained, missed opportunities, the fun, the grind. Most importantly, the break from the normal regime is a chance to ask yourself this question: What next?

I find that athletes often get stuck in a rut. Why?

They do not vary their training.
They do the same races every year.
They train with the same people.
They make the same mistakes.
They train too hard or train too easy.
They do not stick to a plan.

Now is the time to break out of the “sameness” and try something new, something that will progress you to the next level. Athletes are afraid of change. Routine is like a security blanket that athletes are unwilling to part with, no matter how tattered and stinky. Let 2012 be the year you leave the sameness behind and rekindle your love for the sport and perhaps even set a few PR’s in the process.

Here are some suggestions for building the foundation to a better season next year:

Find new training partners to complement the ones you already have. New training partners can help give new perspective, new stories, and new jokes.
Incorporate intervals into your training that you do not normally do. If you like short, fast intervals challenge yourself with longer repeats. If you are an aficionado of mile repeats, try some 400's instead. And, vary you workouts so you aren't doing the same exact thing every week.
Seek the help of a trainer at the gym and get strong. A trainer will show you the right way to do the exercises and can give you a plan targeted to your weaknesses.
Take enough time away from swim, bike, run that you really miss it. Believe me, I know first hand. After 16 months without riding, I really miss it!
Sign up for new races or race distances that you would not normally do. This year I ran cross-country, 10k races and races in new venues. It was a blast.
Run a 5k. Look, we can all use a good dose of speed.
Take care of nagging injuries. Self explanatory!
Perfect your form in all three disciplines. This will make you more efficient and may prevent injuries.
Working with a coach may help you achieve many of these things

I hope that you can find some things to take your training and racing to the next level in 2012.

The never ending season

2011-10-27T09:43:00.000-06:00

Is it time for the off-season yet?

When I first started racing triathlons the US season kicked off with the St. Anthony’s triathlon in late April and concluded with the Hawaii Ironman in October. Then I started racing ITU, and the season started a little earlier and end a little later. Now, WTC, Rev3 and other series added races very early in the year. These new races beckon with Kona slots or mid-winter respites from the cold. Fall races offer a chance to milk a season of training and perhaps qualify for Kona almost a year in advance. Suddenly, one can race virtually all 12 months without leaving the Northern Hemisphere, something unheard of only a few years ago.

In the past, the shorter racing season lent itself to a natural off-season; a time to rest and restore, embark on other activities, rectify weaknesses, spend time with family, catch up at work. The winter was meant for base training, sitting on the couch, or snow sports. Without the lure of races in February, there was no need to get in shape quickly.

Once races started populating the schedule, though, the temptation for training and racing obsessed athletes was too great. People started signing up for races in what was once considered the off-season requiring a healthy dose of training early or late in the year (much of it, perhaps, indoors).

I am not saying I am opposed to the longer season. I am not. The multitude of racing options available are astounding and showcase the incredible growth of our beloved sport. I fear, however, that without careful planning, the risk of burnout, illness or injury is increased significantly. I am not just talking about seasonal afflictions. I am also referring to career ending setbacks.

The continued cycle of racing almost year round will eventually take a mental and physical toll. With the next race on the horizon, there will be less time to take care of muscle imbalances and nagging pre-injuries. A year-round dose of extremely early mornings of training will eventually render an athlete weary and ready to toss out the alarm clock.

This is where careful planning becomes important. If you are racing early in the season and have a key race late in the season, take some downtime in the middle of the season. This will keep you fresh and rejuvenated. And here is a key piece of wisdom. Get a pencil and paper and write this down: You cannot be in top fitness all year. Should I repeat that? You cannot be in top fitness all year. It’s true. The fitter you are, the harder it is to maintain that fitness. You must allow yourself, not only between seasons but within a season, a period of time to rest.

Likewise, it is unwise to race a long schedule year after year. Alternate a long racing season with a shorter racing season. This will allow you to race happy and healthy for a longer period of time.

Go ahead. Allow yourself some time to be lazy. You deserve it.

Diesel the Dog: Aspen weekend

2011-10-17T11:53:00.002-06:00

Ever since I was little, car drives on windy roads make my stomach feel weird. Sometimes I start to feel so bad all of my food comes back up. You would think that Crazy Blonde and Deep Voice would stop taking me on their mountain adventures, but, no. They pack up the car, throw my bed in the back seat and make me go with them.

This time they gave me a pill in a glop of peanut butter, but it did not help. We went over this really big mountain on this really curvy road. I was feeling terrible. Finally, we got out of the car and I thought we were done. They marveled at the view, took a picture, and made me get back in the car.

Whoever took this picture is a crappy photographer.

We still had a long way to go. Deep Voice would open the window for me every few minutes and I would stick my nose out and take big breaths of air. I thought I was ok, but suddenly this mushy stuff came out of my mouth. It was yucky and stinky; I didn't even try to eat it. Crazy Blonde and Deep Voice stopped the car and cleaned it all up. I felt much better. That’ll teach them to take me on those types of roads.

Finally, we got to this place called Aspen where Crazy Blonde and Deep Voice had dinner and I napped in the car. It was dark so I could not really see too much. Then, we went to the place where we were staying, Aspen Boy’s house in a town called Snowmass Village.

I was so happy when Muffin Top showed up with my good friend Riley. Riley and I like to wrestle. I like to bite Riley’s ears and Riley likes to bite my neck. It is so much fun. Usually we only get to play for a few hours, but this time we had two whole days.

Riley and I like to play. We make a mess.

The next morning, Muffin Top and Crazy Blonde went for a run. I got to run just a little bit.

I'm kicking Crazy Blonde's ass

Deep Voice and Aspen Boy took me and Riley for a hike. There were lots of really big animals with people on their back. The big animals left hot biscuits on the trail which Riley really enjoyed. I tried one, but it was not my favorite flavor.

This is the trail that had the hot biscuits.

In the afternoon we went to a farmer’s market in Aspen. There were so many dogs there, I had lots of sniffing and hello’s to do. The dogs were big and little and fat and thin. I saw one dog with a very silly haircut; Crazy Blonde said it was a poodle. I don’t think that prissy dog can chase a ball!

We got back in the car and drove for a while until we got to this place with tall mountains and a big lake. I heard Crazy Blonde call it Maroon Bells. Crazy Blonde and Deep Voice were very impressed with the scenery. I really didn’t care as long as I could run around. I tried to get into the lake, but it was way too cold.

I never knew water could be so cold!

We hiked on a trail. I was very excited by all the new smells. I got to bark at a few people, but I think I scared them because they kind of cowered.

Check me out! I am the King of the Mountain.

Everyone went for a run the next day, so Riley and I had lots of time to play. We also got to chase a ball up a very steep mountain that had these funny looking chairs hanging from the sky.

I love being outside.

We went on one more hike and then I got another glop of peanut butter with the funny white thing in it: uh oh, back in the car. This time we didn’t go on the windy mountain road though. We went another way so I could see Uncle Don. What a pleasant surprise!

Wow. I had such a fun weekend. I guess driving in the car really isn’t that bad.

The Cortisone Cowboy

2011-10-12T12:46:00.000-06:00

Sometimes it takes reaching a low point to try a different tactic. The Twin Cities marathon was such a catalyst; not finishing the race due to ongoing rib pain and the continued pain in the days afterward spurred me into action. Last year I underwent a series of cortisone injections with minimal success. I decided, though, to visit my good friend the Cortisone Cowboy (the physical medicine doctor who administered the injections last year) and try another series of injections. I had nothing to lose and potentially a lot to gain.

The first order of business was to try and diagnose a particular area of swelling on top of and below my 12th rib that has been hanging around for 18 months. Due to the protruding nature of this malady and its unknown make-up, I affectionately call it “the alien”. The Cortisone Cowboy did a diagnostic ultrasound of the alien and while the ultrasound did not reveal anything conclusive, he deemed it a pocket of swelling and scar tissue.

The next order of business was to determine where the injections would be most beneficial. Last year the Cortisone Cowboy injected the intercostals at ribs 9 and 10, so this time he decided to inject the intercostals at ribs 11 and 12 as well as the most sensitive spot in the alien.

The injections are comprised of lidocaine, a numbing agent, and cortisone, an anti-inflammatory. The lidocaine is short acting, 8 hours max, while the cortisone is long acting and can work for weeks. If you inject the proper location, the relief from the lidocaine can be revolutionary, and for me, this was the case. I had a lidocaine buzz for the rest of the day -- the reduction in pain was a magnificent feeling that made me giddy. This also confirmed that the issue was stemming from these two ribs. It was huge bummer when the lidocaine wore off.

The cortisone has reduced some swelling allowing for more aggressive and much deeper soft tissue work. An entrapped nerve has been identified behind the 12th rib, presumably the root of all evil. It is hard work trying to free this nerve, but so far the results have been encouraging in terms of pain reduction, easier breathing, and feeling stronger on my right side.

In the meantime I have spoken with two surgeons who are not only familiar with this injury but have performed surgery to help correct some of the problems caused by the injury. Mainly, the ribs are shaved several inches so when they move they do not rub the nerve. The intrinsic problem, the hypermobility, is not actually repaired. Thus, there could still be potential soft tissue problems in the long run. I also had a conversation with a woman who recently underwent surgery for this injury. Her post-operative recovery has been incredibly slow and not without its pitfalls. She couldn’t get out of bed for two weeks and after six weeks she was just beginning to walk. Yes, she scared me a little.

I have decided to hold off on surgery for the time being. I want to allow time for the cortisone to kick in even further. As well, I want to address the soft tissue and nerve issues since they need to be resolved regardless of whether I have surgery. I have also stepped up my gym work from 3 days a week to 5 days a week in an effort to rebuild muscle that has atrophied from the nerve impingement.

That leaves me in a bit of a limbo. Will I be able to run another marathon? I am realistically optimistic. Only time will tell.

Twin Cities Marathon

2011-10-04T09:09:00.001-06:00

Here is my 10 second race recap: On Sunday I “ran” the Twin Cities marathon. The gun went off at 8. I dropped out at 9:23, just beyond halfway. The pace felt easy. My ribs felt terrible. I cut my losses early to prevent further damage.
+++++++++++++++++++

This was my 7th trip to Minneapolis with the previous six occurring in July for the Lifetime Fitness triathlon. What a difference a few months make. July: hot and steamy. October: crisp and beautiful. Fall in the mid-West is a colorful spectacle replete with cool mornings and warm, sunny afternoons -- perfect weather for running a marathon.

I was granted elite status for this race which was a huge coup. Twin Cities in Motion, the organizers of the marathon, really know how to treat their elite athletes; they provided airport transportation, hotel rooms, a fully stocked hospitality suite, massage, a race morning staging area, a beautiful course jammed with spectators and a general conviviality rarely seen in triathlon. I felt welcome, that my presence at the race was meaningful. I felt guilty about dropping out after their wonderful kindness and it unquestionably made me want to return next year to finish my unfinished business.

Most of the marathon athletes stayed at the host hotel. As a newbie to the running scene, this offered me the opportunity to take a peek into a world that is utterly unfamiliar. I felt like an interloper, although I found most people gracious. I even made a new friend.

The morning before the race, I set out for a run with Jim, an athlete I coach who was also running the race. Two African runners headed out with us. I figured they would pass us quickly and leave us in the dust. Nope. They stayed behind us, which was incredibly disconcerting. Was I running too fast? Surely they should have been in front of us. One of the guys turned back quickly, but the other stuck with us. I had a few pick-ups to do. I sped up, he sped up; I slowed down, he slowed down. My new friend told me that he is from Ethiopia.

Upon arriving back at the hotel, New Friend asked if we were going to stretch. All three of us traipsed upstairs to the fitness room and went through our individual routines. When New Friend decided to weigh himself, Jim became very interested and asked me to take a peek. I felt uncomfortable, like a Peeping Tom. When New Friend had trouble working the ancient doctor’s office style scale, Jim readily helped him out. New Friend’s weight? A mere 126 pounds. In his sweats and shoes. Jim stepped on the scale for comparison and it topped out at 186 pounds. I pointed out that Jim was a half a person heavier than New Friend (and almost a foot taller)! We have been laughing about it ever since. (New Friend, Berhanu Girma, ran 2:19.45).
++++++++++++++++++++++++++

So now what? I let myself mope about yesterday, but today I feel rejuvenated and ready to tackle this injury anew. I am starting a strength program from scratch to help rebuild the muscles that have atrophied due to the injury. I am going to continue to run, but back off the intensity for a short while. I have been in contact with a surgeon in Canada who is familiar with this injury and may be able to provide insight on how to progress.

My marathon future is somewhat uncertain, but I am going to everything I can to get to the start line of a race before the December 16th deadline for Olympic trials qualifying.

Goal setting 101

2011-09-28T16:39:00.001-06:00

“You can achieve whatever you want if you try hard enough.” This overused adage, in my opinion, is false and misleading. It is true, that often, when goals are set they are met. But, it is also true, that one can devote months or years of time and energy into accomplishing a certain goal and that goal may never be met. Realizing a goal requires more than blood, sweat and tears. There is also luck, timing, and savvy.

I believe there are four potential outcomes on the road to working toward a certain goal (the “goal” in question can be anything: business, sports, family, hobby):

1.   The road is smooth and the goal is successfully realized.
2.   The road is rocky, but the goal is achieved.
3.   The road is smooth, but the goal is not attained.
4.   The road is rocky and the goal is missed.

This is not a dose of pessimism. It is realism. Goals do not care if you are deserving, nice, or hard working. Achieving a goal is a complex equation that usually cannot be figured out prospectively. It is often, only in retrospect, when all the factors are reviewed, can one say why things went right or wrong.

That brings me to my own goal: qualifying for the Olympic trials in the marathon. I decided in February, when it became apparent I would not be able to compete in triathlon, that I would dedicate my time and effort to running. I am a very goal oriented person and I needed something tangible to focus on. A goal that was lofty, but not totally out of reach. A goal that would keep me going when things got tough in life or in training. A goal that would leave me with a feeling of accomplishment, whether or not the goal was met.

My first attempt at qualifying was the LA marathon in March. I missed the standard by 2 minutes. Undeterred, I ran several races over the ensuing months building up to my next try at qualifying. That race is on Sunday in Minneapolis. I chose the Twin Cities Marathon because it serves as the Masters national championships and is believed to be a fast, scenic and enjoyable race.

My road to Minneapolis has certainly been a rocky one. I started this endeavor with a serious injury, and despite all of my best efforts, the injury still lingers. The injury has dictated whether my races have been a PR or a DNF. The injury has allowed me to run a fast workout or walk home frustrated. Throughout this entire process I have believed that I can run fast enough to attain the Olympic trials time standard and that belief has buoyed me when the injury has flared up and could have left me prostrate on the couch.

In pursuit of this goal, I tested myself physically and mentally. I had the typical ups and downs. I was forced to be patient. I had to make some tough decisions. I have made new friends and tried new things.

Goal setting is more than just achieving a goal. It is about growing as a person. It is about reveling in the accomplishments met along the way. Sometimes the road to the goal is more important than the goal itself. I have no idea what Sunday will bring; it will either be outcome 2 or 4 above. Even though my road has been rocky, I have not been defeated by an injury that has desperately tried to defeat me, and that is a victory in itself.

Kinesio Tape and Fairy Dust

2011-09-19T19:29:00.000-06:00

I have been dealing with my rib injury for nearly two years. I have come to view this injury as a chronic condition, not unlike my asthma. It is with me all the time. It must be managed on a daily basis. Most of the time, the injury lingers in the background, but then when I least expect it, the injury flares up with vigor and I have trouble breathing and the pain level soars.

My latest flare up occurred on Labor Day. As part of my long run, I planned to do the Boulder half marathon. I woke up not feeling particularly great, but I warmed up and I seemed fine. A few miles into the race, I struggled to breathe and my ribs started to hurt. I pulled the plug at mile 8 and hitched a ride back home.

This was the beginning of a very up and down two weeks. Workouts were sporadic – a brilliant run was followed by a run cut short – leaving me apprehensive about the Twin Cities marathon on October 2. In an effort to calm down my ribs, I stopped swimming, backed off run workouts, and changed my gym routine. I had been doing dry needling, and but now we stepped up the effort with as many as 20 needles in and around the rib cage and diaphragm. Nothing seemed to calm the ribs down.

I sought out some new help and found out that I have 4 ribs (9-12) that are hypermobile, meaning that they are moving around too much. This causes the intercostals to stretch too far causing spasms and it also makes the diaphragm incredibly unhappy. Well, that certainly explains the difficulty with breathing! The most hypermobile rib is number 12 which is dubbed a floating rib because it does not attach to the sternum. When this rib moves, it presses on a nerve, which is quite unnerving. Just to keep it interesting, there is also a lot of scar tissue around the ribs.

Much of this information is not new. I already knew that there was hypermobility in my ribs, but I did not realize how many ribs are affected, and the explanation of the cascading events that occur when the ribs move too much was enlightening.

These are the Graston utensils. There is even one called "The Pointer".

In order to address the scar tissue, the Graston technique was employed. Have you ever had this done? A series of metal tools that look like ancient torture devices are used as “an innovative, patented form of instrument-assisted soft tissue mobilization that enables clinicians to effectively break down scar tissue and fascial restriction. The technique utilizes specially designed stainless steel instruments to specifically detect and effectively treat areas exhibiting soft tissue fibrosis or chronic inflammation.”

That quote is directly from the Graston website. I really don’t think people are going to rush out and get Graston after reading that. And, guess what? It hurts like hell. Basically, these objects of torment are scraped across the injured area, i.e. my ribs, making a sound akin to nails on the chalkboard. To make sure that you remember the experience for the next few days, it causes bruising.

In an effort to stabilize the ribs, a very intricate taping technique has been employed. I had tried taping last year. The tape was magnificent – it stayed on in the pool, workouts, in the shower. It also burned my skin so badly I had red lines on my torso for a month. This time around, my incredibly resourceful father acquired something called barrier wipes that are meant to protect the skin of patients with colostomy bags. I figure if it works for them, it should work for me!

So far the taping is working wonders. It really seems to prevent the ribs from moving when they shouldn’t and it is giving much needed support to my rib cage. Of course, in the gym locker room the ladies gasp and give me strange stares and I get the occasional, “What is wrong with you?” I am still trying to think of a better story than, “Uh, I was in a bike crash 2 years ago.” I welcome any suggestions.

I realize that tape and fairy dust are not a long term solution. I am still hopeful that a very hot, skilled surgeon with a keen interest in hypermobile ribs will swoop down on a white horse and fix me for good.

Can't we all just get along? Some thoughts on sharing the road.

2011-09-12T14:41:00.000-06:00

On a lovely Friday morning, my run group was doing intervals at Coot Lake. A very cranky woman shouted at us that we did not belong there and she was not responsible if her dog took one of us out. A hot debate ensued with neither side satisfied with the outcome. The angry woman still believes that runners should not encroach on her trail and we still believe that as long as we are courteous, we can continue to run at Coot Lake.

Just yesterday, I was on the last few miles of a long run. I was delighting in the spectacular weather and admiring the mountain view as I ran along a popular dirt road toward the Boulder reservoir. I ran toward traffic as is customary. A cyclist was coming toward me. I expected her to move left as cars and cyclists usually do. She did not budge and screamed at me several times, “I am not moving over.” I was confused and continued running. We came to a standstill when it was clear that neither of us was going to budge. She got off her bike and proceeded to screech, “You do not belong on the road. You should be running over there (she pointed to the heavily weeded ditch off the road).” I did not lose my cool, but I did explain that runners are allowed on the road and the ditch is filled with snakes anyway. Resolution was never achieved and I finally went around her. Given that there were a ton of runners out that morning, I wonder if she stopped and lectured at all of them.

Last week three cyclists in Boulder were hit head on by a car that swerved into their bike lane. The article that appeared in the Daily Camera outlining the details of the accident made it very clear that the cyclists were NOT at fault and the driver of the car was reckless. Nonetheless, the comment section was replete with people that clearly hate cyclists and used this incident to express their views even going so far as to blame the cyclists. There was an overwhelming theme that cyclists do not belong on the road.

There is so much anger and animosity between cars and cyclists, cyclists and runners, runners and walkers. Why? I am completely baffled that someone can become so enraged at a person they do not know who has done absolutely nothing other than occupy the same space.What mechanism compels a person to yell at a stranger?

There are no simple answers to living more harmoniously. Angry people will probably continue to be angry no matter what. But, I do think there are some steps that we can take as athletes to make things easier for all parties.At the very least, we can then say we did absolutely everything to avoid trouble.

1. Obey the rules of the road. Cyclists have a tendency to use red lights as stop signs and stop signs as yield signs. If we wanted to be treated as a vehicle, we must act like one.

2. Single up when cars are coming. While it is legal in Colorado to ride two abreast, make it easier on the cars by singling up when they are trying to pass.

3. When using trails, be aware of the people around you. If on a bike, don’t speed around blind corners. Whether on a bike or running, let people know if you are passing. A simple “heads up” or “right behind you” alerts people that you are there and they usually appreciate the notice.

4. In Boulder, trail rules state: everyone yields to equestrians, bicyclists yield to pedestrians, and bicyclists headed downhill yield to bicyclists headed uphill. However, I often move to the side when the bikers come through as it easier for me to stop or move than it is for them.

5. Always give a wave or verbal thanks if someone does something you like. Positive feedback goes a long way.

6. Try not to use obscene gestures to express your anger. We are all guilty of losing our temper when someone does something that makes us feel threatened. Providing negative feedback will only make that person more apt to do something offensive again.

7. Pay attention to your surroundings. I am not a believer in wearing headphones while out on the road. It dulls the senses and makes quick reaction more difficult.

Look, I know that no matter how hard we try to co-exist with cars, bikes, runners or walkers there will always be hostility. I also know that there is plenty that cars can do to help us out, but that is a whole other post. The best thing we can do is to do our best to be considerate of each other.

Guest Blog: Jonathan Toker on muscle cramps and electrolytes

2011-09-05T15:47:00.000-06:00

Jonathan Toker is the Slowtwitch.com science editor and an elite-level trail runner-triathlete who hails from Canada and lives in Southern California. He received a Ph.D. in organic chemistry from The Scripps Research Institute in 2001. Jonathan invented the SaltStick products in 2002, and has been found to have high levels of electrolytes in his blood. Visit www.SaltStick.com for more information.

With several high profile World Championship events and long distance races still on the calendar, this is a great chance for a reminder on dealing with muscle cramping. Cramps are particularly prevalent in hot conditions but it is good to understand the causes and solutions for year-'round activities of all levels and pursuits.

Muscle cramping can be caused by several factors. However, at a base level, the understood cause of cramping is the brain signaling muscles with increasing urgency to fire at a time when the muscles are becoming fatigued or the signals are not being transmitted efficiently. When the muscle becomes too fatigued to contract, or the signal is not being successfully converted to a command, the body compensates by sending more signals to get the muscle to behave as desired. At some point, the signals overwhelm the muscle and initiate a cramp.

Many cramps are caused by muscle fatigue due to inadequate training (think of running a marathon on 10K training) or an unusual amount of muscle use (think of using fins for a hard kick set in the pool with no prior experience). Another major cause of cramping is electrolyte imbalance due to loss of electrolytes in sweat. These charged ions of sodium, potassium, calcium, magnesium, and chloride are responsible for muscle behaviour after the signal is sent for muscle contraction and relaxation. Variation of the concentration of these electrolytes in plasma (blood) and within cells can be caused by loss of electrolytes and fluid in sweat, and by replacement of electrolytes and fluid by consumption.

Sweat contains principally water and electrolytes. As electrolyte content of plasma decreases due to sweat loss, replacement of the water component alone will cause electrolyte levels in plasma to drop. Neglect rehydrating with fluid, and you risk serious dehydration. It's a delicate balance within a fairly narrow range to rehydrate correctly, and the necessary replacement of electrolytes lost.

If plasma electrolyte levels fall outside the optimal range, the body will begin to compensate as much as possible to maintain normal levels. As a simple level, this is accomplished primarily by controlling plasma volume though the displacement of water. For example, if plasma levels of electrolytes are low due to overhydration, the body will avoid further plasma dilution resulting in "water baby" or a gut full of unabsorbed water. The most effective solution for this common problem is to take on additional electrolytes in the concentrated form of a capsule with minimal fluid. On the other hand, if neither fluid nor electrolytes are replaced and sweat loses continue to grow, the plasma electrolyte levels will begin soar. In this case, the body will begin to retain as much fluid as possible resulting in swollen fingers and no urine production. Drinking fresh water, and depending on the circumstances, consuming electrolytes, may resolve this issue.

Proper electrolyte supplementation prior to, and throughout your event, along with appropriate fluid intake, is key to avoiding cramps and performing your best. A balanced supply of absorbable sodium, potassium, calcium, and magnesium is your best weapon against cramping. With those electrolytes lost in a 220-63-16-8 ratio for the average athlete, it is in the athlete's best interest to ensure that replacement of the full spectrum of electrolytes is replaced, and in a form and quantity the body can absorb.

Ensuring an ongoing and optimal balance of electrolytes and hydration will enable you to focus on the task at hand and race your best without pesky cramps from ruining your day.

For more information:
A case study with numerical examples are provided through this link.
A useful comparison chart is available Here.

Guest blog: Sue Linroth

2011-08-30T14:55:00.001-06:00

Note from JZ: Sue Linroth is a mother of two living in Longmont, CO. In 2007 she learned to swim and started back to running after a decade long break. Already an avid cyclist, triathlon was a natural next step in her athletic progression. In 2008, Sue competed in her first triathlon and never looked back!

Faster at Fifty

I turned 49 today. By triathlon standards, that means that in 4 months I will also be turning 50!   I don’t have any issues with turning fifty, other than I didn’t have a chance to be fast at forty.

You see, I entered my first triathlon at 46. Over the last couple of years I’ve done the requisite work: weekly track sessions, consistent intervals on the bike and I’m a regular at Masters’ swim.   Admittedly, with solid, consistent training I have reached some significant milestones. This year alone I’ve more than tripled my yardage in the pool, PRd in my Sprint Tri 5k time and just recently set a new record for time in the saddle. I’ve achieved results that I never imagined. I’m definitely faster than I used to be but I’ve often wondered “How long will it take for me to get… fast?”

I recently found myself in a conversation about this topic with my husband. He asked me how I define fast. I didn’t have a ready answer. He followed with another question: “If you can’t define fast, then how can you expect to measure it, and how will you know when you get there?”

After some significant introspection (not to mention a great degree of discomfort at not being able to answer this question), I came to the realization that for me, fast is not a number. It is a state of being in a given moment, workout or race. A place where you test your limits, push the comfort zone and come out the other side with something that is faster in a way that it hasn’t been previously. According to my own definition I have in fact been fast in my forties!

I intend to carry this new perspective with me as I head toward the next season and into my new age grouping.   I plan to keep my sights firmly on my goals, push some limits and come out the other side. I am also looking forward to setting some new PRs ---- (I may have been fast at forty, but I plan to be faster at fifty!)

Good luck Sue. I hope you achieve all your goals. All the best to you in your fifties!

USA Pro Cycling Challenge: Vail Time Trial

2011-08-26T11:14:00.002-06:00

My friend Lara emailed a few weeks ago asking if I wanted to drive up to Vail to watch the time trial for the brand new Colorado bike race. I responded with an enthusiastic yes. What a terrific opportunity to observe the best cyclists in the world. I figured I could learn something useful, have fun, and see all of the latest gear. Plus, this legendary 10 mile time trial is entirely uphill and gains almost 2000 feet to the top of Vail pass. The altitude at the top is 10,000 feet. It was sure to be a suffer-fest for the flat-landers.

Vail is so quaint!

The day did not disappoint. The venue was a spectacle. The day was postcard perfect, with bright blue sky and imposing mountains in the background. There were thousands of people milling about. An expo was set up touting the wares of the various sponsors. There was so much to see, it was almost overwhelming.


The expo area

Can you believe this t-shirt cost $40?

A souvenir cow bell was handed out. What a coup! I love obnoxious toys.

I rang the cow bell all day! It never got old.

Baby Paige liked the cowbell too!

We navigated our way through the crowd, aimlessly looking for the start house. Nobody was able to give us concrete directions until we met Bob the Avon policeman. We asked him if he was hot in his uniform, because we were roasting in our shorts and t-shirts. He said he was extremely hot, especially since he was wearing a bullet proof vest. What? Should we have been concerned about safety issues?


Bob knew what was up!

We found our way to the start house about 10 minutes before the first rider was set to go off. Somehow, we were able to weave our way through the crowd and get to the very front.

The first rider nervously awaited his start

We saw the famous Paul Sherwin and Phil Liggett.

Paul Sherwin was a celebrity! People wanted pictures and autographs.

Phil and Paul did their race commentary near the start

The start of the race was incredibly exciting. The national anthem was sung and then the crowd went wild banging on the barriers and ringing their cowbells and counting down the seconds. This reception was given to every rider in the start house. Even though the riders kept a straight face, deep down I know they must have loved the noise. The first mile of the course was teeming with people. The energy was palpable. It was impossible not to get caught up in the momentum.

After the first 10 riders were off, we decided to make our way up the course. I tried to get some action shots, but it was a tough task. The riders flew by and were gone in a flash.

I did manage to catch a photo of this guy coming around the corner

It was interesting to look at the different bike set ups and bike positions. Most riders opted for a TT bike with a disc wheel. Some, however used a road bike with clip on aero bars and other chose a road bike without aero bars. While everyone did use some type of aero wheel, there was a wide variety in the wheel choice from somewhat aero to very aero. I mostly saw guys wearing aero helmets, but there were a few that used a traditional helmet.The bike positions were also very disparate. Some of the guys had atrocious positions and were moving all over the saddle. Other were clearly much more comfortable on a TT bike and looked smooth.

It was obvious who the contenders were.The top guys had a team car following them and the really top guys had a motorcycle with a cameraman hanging off the back as well. I am not sure what the poor saps without a team car were supposed to do if they flatted. Walk to the top of Vail pass with their bike slung over their shoulder? What a bummer that would be.

About 2 miles from the start house was the team staging area. This is where the team RV's were and where the riders did their warm up.


The BMC staging area


Look! It's George!

I was most impressed with the effort these guys put out on the day. After the previous stage with the two huge mountain passes, the legs of these riders were surely beat up. But, to their credit, they put it all out there. Their faces showed the pain and how much winning the stage or holding onto the yellow jersey or inner pride meant. It was inspiring.

It is hard to believe that bike racing at this level has been absent from Colorado for so many years. I hope this is the start of new tradition for bike racing in our great state.

AFC Half Marathon

2011-08-22T14:17:00.001-06:00

San Diego truly is a lovely city. But, does it really deserve the moniker “America’s Finest City”? The organizers of the half marathon this past weekend seem to think so and use that slogan as the race’s namesake. Regardless of whether you agree with this bold appraisal of San Diego, this race was one of the finest I have participated in.

The course is challenging and scenic. Many of San Diego’s most popular tourist spots are featured. The race starts at Cabrillo monument and meanders through Point Loma. We then traversed Harbor Island, passed the airport, wandered through downtown and finished in Balboa Park.

Let’s talk about the finish in Balboa Park. It is home to the famous San Diego zoo, museums, and gardens. Here’s the catch. It is well above downtown; to get to the park one must go UPHILL to get there. So, at mile 11 of this primarily downhill and flat course, the road turns upward and stays that way for 2 miles. How inconvenient, one might even say inconsiderate! Even though I studied the course profile and am familiar with the streets of San Diego, the last 2 miles of the race were still a shock to the system.

My race strategy was calculated in anticipation of this rude placement of such a steep incline. I had to run the first 10k fast and bank some time to make up for whatever I would lose on the uphill. This type of racing is counter to my usual “go out controlled” race plan.

I reached the 10k mark in 36:12 which is the fastest 10k I have run in as long as I can remember and I hit the 10 mile mark in 59:05. At mile 11, I was 65:05 and was thinking a sub 78 was possible. And then I hit the hill. I felt incredibly strong and ran it well, but, all I could manage was 6:30 pace for the next 2 miles (I felt better when I heard that the lead men went from 5:05 pace to 5:50 pace on that section). I did cross the line with a 35 second PR (78:26), which means this year I have shaved 60 seconds off of my half marathon time.

I was quite distressed, though, when I was running down the finish chute and I heard the announcer say “Here comes Joanna Zeiger. I recognize that form anywhere!” I know that this does not mean I looked smooth and gazelle-like, but rather, I looked like my regular spastic self. This is quite disheartening considering I have worked very hard on my run form with the hopes of eventually blending in.

I was lucky to receive an elite entry for this race. This afforded me two huge benefits. The course is point to point and all racers are required to take a bus from the finish to the start. Lining up with 8000 people can be chaotic, so I was incredibly relieved to find out that there was a bus for the elites leaving from the host hotel, which is closer to the start line. Yes!

That little perk was nothing compared to the private staging area with 3 porta-potties. That meant short lines and clean bathrooms that never ran out of toilet paper. After my experience at the Boulder 70.3 aid station, I will never take a clean porta-potty for granted. That particular porta-potty met with an unfortunate circumstance that to this day I cannot figure out how it happened. In fact, much discussion ensued amongst the volunteers, all of whom went to investigate, about how this occurred. Evidently, somebody had a very upset stomach and had terrible aim and ruined the porta-potty for the rest of the day. The point being, I really appreciated the presence of unsullied bathrooms, especially since we were at the start a full hour before the race began.

I have run 4 half marathons this year, 3 of them in San Diego. When it comes to racing, San Diego is America’s Finest City!

One year later

2011-08-15T06:36:00.001-06:00

It has been one year since I last competed in a triathlon. It is hard to believe how slowly and how quickly time has passed. My last race was Lake Stevens 70.3. It was not a banner day. Despite the pain from my rib injury, I hobbled through the race. I knew at the time that it would be my last triathlon for a long while, so I decided that I would finish slowly rather than not finish at all. After the race, I spent a month on the couch recovering both mentally and physically before beginning a long journey of doctor visits and physical therapy.

This past year has been one of change, introspection, patience and flexibility. I have altered my expectations as an athlete and redefined my role in the sport of triathlon.

No longer a triathlon competitor, I continue a very active involvement in the sport as a coach, writer, and educator. I avidly peruse results, stay up to date on technology, learn about new races, and keep informed about rules changes. I take my job as a coach very seriously so I continue to be a student of the sport; athletes look to me to achieve success and I do not want to fail them. As well, with my long history of ailments, I can almost always find a solution to an athlete’s problems. Cheering from the sidelines is not as hard as I anticipated.

In terms of training and racing, my year has taken a very interesting turn. I am a Masters runner with a very concrete goal of qualifying for the marathon Olympic Trials. Training has changed markedly. I run with the Running Republic of Boulder. In the past, I ran mostly alone, whereas now, I almost always have a run buddy (especially since if I cannot find a human, Diesel the dog, is always a willing and able partner). The workouts are completely different than anything I have done in the past – they are longer, harder, and far more taxing. Indeed, in the beginning I was getting a touch of workout anxiety, wondering if I could complete such rigorous training. My confidence in running has grown tremendously this year, although I still worry about getting dropped on the long runs. And, I am continually humbled by the ageless 47 year old Colleen DeReuck who kicks my butt on a regular basis (how on earth can she get that far ahead of me in just 60 seconds???). I have toed the line at races I would have balked at in the past, and have a lot of fun doing so.

Flexibility and patience. I have been notoriously poor at both. My rib injury still plagues me and so, in order to train at the level I aim for, I have made certain modifications. For instance, I have gotten out early for more swim workouts this year than in my entire career previously. I learned that if my rib hurts in the pool, I must get out lest I make it worse. I cut run workouts short. I take unexpected days off to let a rib flare up calm down. I manage the pain most of the time, but it takes a lot of effort to do so and I cannot relent on physical therapy, stretching and gym work. I am "patiently" waiting for this injury to finally go away.

It is never easy to redefine yourself, especially when something has characterized you for many years. I realized that finding other tangible goals has eased the transition. We are always evolving; it is up to us to keep up.

Boulder 70.3

2011-08-08T09:38:00.001-06:00

Yesterday I volunteered at the Boulder 70.3. This is totally unremarkable, except for two things: 1. I had never worked at a triathlon prior to yesterday and 2. I was pressured into working the aid station by Coach Darren, as I was not feeling up to the task of attending a triathlon. I had serious trepidations about going to the race. I did not think I was emotionally ready to watch a triathlon.

My initial fears about my mental status were unfounded. I had fun handing out ice and water and hanging out with my running group. I actually felt somewhat like a hero, giving the athletes much needed relief from the heat of the day. Their downtrodden faces lit up when I yelled “Ice” and they eagerly came over to grab a cup, or have it dumped into a hat or shirt.

Working the aid station allowed me a whole new perspective on the racing scene.

When I first started racing, there were very few options in attire. Mostly, people wore bathing suits. I remember one particular race in which the run went through a quiet neighborhood. I recall thinking to myself, “Wow, we really look ridiculous running down the street half naked in our bathing suits.” The men, especially, in the just their Speedos. Nowadays, the clothing options are plentiful and that was abundantly clear yesterday. Most athletes were wearing colorful tri tops with tri shorts, many sporting their club logos. Lots of people wore arm coolers. Except for two women who were kickin’ it old school and wore a standard bathing suit.
People were so incredibly polite. I heard “thank you” and “thanks for being here” more times than I can count. The athletes were orderly at the aid station when they came through in groups. I did not see a single discourteous person the entire time I was there.
Triathlon truly has a “finish or die” attitude. I arrived at the aid station around 11 am. The athletes coming through were mostly walking and they were on their first loop. They still had 7 miles to go! The people who gutted out the heat or lack of fitness or poor nutrition, I say kudos. To the individual who walked the entire run with a boot on her foot, I ask, “why?” As someone pointed out at the aid station, it’s not like this race comes around every four years!
Speaking of nutrition, it is very clear that most people do not take enough salt. I saw hundreds of uniforms mottled with salt stains. People were gray in the face, cramping, hunched over, and looking pretty bad.
We went through a tremendous number of cups, bags of ice, bottles of water, Gatorade and cola, bananas, gels, bars and pretzels. One racer even asked for a piece of pizza that was provided for the volunteers. Of course, we obliged him. Triathlons truly are a moving feast.

Who doesn't love pizza and Gatorade 12 miles into a 70.3?

On another note, I rode a friend’s mountain bike to race. It was my first time on a bike in 6 months. On the way down, I thought to myself, “This isn’t too bad. Maybe I will start riding again.” On the way back, I thought to myself, “This really sucks. I can already feel my ribs and I am getting very uncomfortable.” So, it looks like my hiatus from riding will extend even further.

Congrats to everyone who raced yesterday.

Tips for overcoming fear of open water swimming

2011-07-28T09:58:00.000-06:00

This morning, I had the pleasure of conducting an open water swim clinic with my good friend Krista Shultz (http://shedoestri.com/). The attendees were primarily beginners with very little open water experience. I began the discussion by querying the group whether they had anxiety about open water swimming. All of them indicated that they indeed had some fears about swimming in open water. Even though I had anticipated this might be the case, I was still somewhat surprised by the degree of anxiety these athlete’s were facing.

The issues were varied. I tried to tackle each of their concerns in an effort to alleviate their discomfort and make open water swimming enjoyable rather than a burden.

Wetsuit constriction
Even a perfectly fitting wetsuit feels restrictive compared to swimming without one. In addition, a wetsuit changes your body position in the water and if you are donning a full suit, it can change your arm swing. If you never wear your wetsuit before race day, these feelings will be unfamiliar and can cause a panic attack in the water. The best way to ensure this doesn’t happen during the race is to periodically wear your wetsuit prior to race day. If you do not have access to open water, wear your wetsuit in the pool (just be sure to wash it well after). The more often you wear it, the less strange it will feel on race day.

Mass start
There is no question; the start of a triathlon is frenzied. People jockey for position with no regard for those around them. There can be kicking and hitting. It is not for the faint of heart. Novice open water swimmers (and anyone who wants to avoid the fray, for that matter) should position themselves to the outside or to the back of the group. Try to minimize the number of people immediately around you. For those athletes feeling especially panicked by the mass start, let everyone go and then start your swim. Swimming a Masters workout can help emulate the feeling of a triathlon swim – often workouts have crowded lanes and there can be contact with swimmers around you (I often leave with bruised hands).

Not being able to make the distance
Whether you are racing in a sprint or an Ironman, you should swim the distance in training non-stop at least once to give yourself the confidence you make the distance and the time cut-off. I am constantly amazed at how often people ignore swim training until the last minute. Swimming is not like studying for an exam; you cannot cram.

Breathing
If you have trouble breathing during swimming in the pool you will have trouble breathing during swimming in the open water. The most common breathing problem is trying to breathe in and out when you turn your head. After you take your breath when your head is turned, blow the water out when you head is back in the water. Swimming, unlike running and biking, requires long, slow, controlled breaths. Practice this in the pool until it is second nature.

Sighting
One of the biggest concerns people have is swimming off course. We have all done it! In fact, earlier this year, almost the entire men’s pro field swam off course at a big race. Know the course beforehand. Some courses are triangular while others are a rectangle. Figure out which side the buoys are on and whether the turn buoys are a different color. Practice bilateral breathing in training just in case the buoys are on your non-preferred breathing side. The buoys can be hard to see, the sun may be bright, the waves very tall. Do not depend on the person in front of you to keep you on course. Yes, you can swim on someone’s feet. But, lift your head every few strokes to make sure you are still on course. Practice lifting your head during your swim training in the pool.

Panicking
Sometimes, even after all of the mental and physical preparation, a panic attack occurs during the swim. If that happens, turn over on your back and float or grab onto a kayak. Take a few deep breaths until you feel calm and then continue your swim. Try counting your strokes or singing a song to keep yourself calm.

Practice
The overwhelming theme here is that you must practice to overcome your fear of the open water. Each of the steps needs practice in the pool first and then implemented in open water. Whenever you have the opportunity to swim in the open water, take it! Over time, you will feel much more comfortable.

I applaud the athlete’s who came to the clinic. They recognized their fear of the open water and took a major step to overcoming it. They did not wait until race day and just hope for the best. I believe they all left with a little more confidence.

Most Embarrassing Moments

2011-07-18T16:04:00.001-06:00

Today I updated my resume. No, I did not toil on my professional resume. I am referring to my resume of most embarrassing moments. Undoubtedly, my resume of most embarrassing moments is quite full already. But, it is always nice to keep things current.

Many of the incidents on that resume are falls of various sorts. One such fall happened during my second race as pro in Oceanside, CA in 1998. The race took place at the pier with a very long run in to the water. I bolted when the gun fired and ran hard to establish a good position before we hit the water. All of the sudden, I tripped. I was sent flying through the air very ungracefully. Just in case anybody in the crowd missed my acrobatics, the announcer shouted, “There’s a woman down!”

I got back up and finished the race with dignity (I was third). I thought nothing else of the fall until the next morning. The front page San Diego Union’s sports section featured a photo which captured the very moment I was hurtling through the air. There are 25 women horizontal and one woman exactly parallel to the ground.

Another bit on my resume of most embarrassing moments was in college. I was rushing to join some friends at the pool to hang out. I threw on my two piece swim suit and a pair of shorts. When I got to the pool, I took off my shorts only to find out I had nothing on underneath. Yikes.

And that brings me to today, the day I unintentionally added my resume of most embarrassing moments.

Let me set the scene.

The background: I went for a run this morning with Diesel.

The time: 8:45 am (i.e. rush hour).

The place: The intersection of Valmont and Foothills Parkway (i.e. very busy).

The scenario: I was waiting patiently for the light to change, with Diesel standing at my side. There were a lot of cars at the various points of the intersection.

The Moment: The light turned green so I began running through the intersection. Midway through, a motorcycle went by and gunned the engine. Diesel jumped in fright and moved from my side to directly in front of me. I too was jarred by the sound and was a little off balance. I tripped over Diesel and suddenly, I went splat onto the pavement. I was sprawled out in the middle of the road, slightly confused and extremely mortified. I stood up, walked to the other side of road and assessed the damage. My left knee and elbow were instantly black, blue and yellow and scraped. Diesel was not harmed. (Note: Aside from a little bruising, including my ego, I am fine).

The grievance: At least fifty people witnessed my fall and not a single person asked if I was ok. Wow. Talk about apathy.

The aftermath: I still had to get home, about two miles away. I started running, very gingerly at first. Diesel must have known something was wrong. Usually he runs beside me or behind me, but now, he was running in front, pulling me back to the house.

The moral: If you fall and nobody sees you fall then you didn’t really fall so try to fall in private.

Ironman Addiction

2011-07-11T13:20:00.000-06:00

I wrote a post last year about exercise addiction. One thing was very clear from the responses to that post; many of us are exercise addicts. I believe there is a special subset in that group, those who are not only addicted to exercise in general, but to Ironman specifically. Year after year, in spite of the time commitments, financial burden, and physical and emotional toll, athletes clamor to sign up for Ironman races.

A recent conversation with an athlete I coach centered on this very issue. She has raced Ironman every year for the past many years. Next year, work obligations will not allow her the time to train the same number of hours and so she questioned her ability to appropriately train for Ironman. I offered her a very radical suggestion: Take a year off from Ironman and focus on the other distances. She was incredulous at the very notion, she had not thought about not doing Ironman. When we talked it though, though, she became excited at the prospect of doing shorter races and honing her speed.

My last Ironman was in 2008. My gut shut down yet again, rendering me dizzy, depleted and unable to finish the race. I decided that it would be my last Ironman for a very long time. It seemed silly to continually damage my body doing a distance it seemingly rejected, especially with so many other racing options.

Triathlon is very Ironman-centric and I, too, was heavily on the band wagon. I could not imagine planning an Ironman-less season. I anticipated that my training and racing would be unfulfilling in some way, that I would be less of a triathlete. I could not have been more wrong.

My training evolved to fit my racing goals. I substituted much of the long distance training for shorter and more intense workouts. I began to really enjoy the training format. I did not miss Ironman after all. I originally thought I could not be satisfied without that smug feeling of contented exhaustion from training all day. But, I was.

It has been 11 months since I raced my last triathlon. I have not ridden my bike for almost as long. I have again been surprised that after the initial feeling of loss, I am not discontent. Just as the transition out of the Ironman realm was relatively seamless, so has been my transition to running.

I have realized that I don’t need to log the endless training hours to quell my addiction. I need to have concrete training and racing goals, and if those are met (or almost met), I am satisfied. I am still able to push myself in training and see the fruits of my labor on the race course. That is what my addiction craves.

Triathletes have trouble breaking their Ironman addiction, even if their bodies are shattered or their personal lives unable to handle the strain, because there is a belief that the high from training for Ironman cannot be replicated by training for other events. Or, there is a fear that training fewer hours will result in being less fit. Perhaps, there is a sense that anything less than Ironman is unsatisfactory. Yes, there is a certain pride in telling others that you have finished a gazillion Ironman races.And, of course, there is the Kona carrot beckoning year after year.

Take a break from Ironman for a while. Recharge your batteries. Get faster. Experiment with other races. Change up your training. Work on your weaknesses. Try to qualify for a World Championships at another distance. Ironman will still be there when you are ready to revisit the distance, only this time you will be renewed, faster and raring to go.

Why do you race?

2011-07-05T16:29:00.000-06:00

Do you train to race? Or, do you race to train? These are very different approaches to training and racing and there is no right or wrong answer. At the outset, the motivations for each seem similar, but I believe, there is an inherent difference.

Training to race

I have been a competitive athlete for 35 years (gasp, that is a really long time). My early life revolved around achieving time standards for various swim meets such as junior nationals, senior nationals and the Olympic Trials. My coaches bred the team to race and all of our training was centered on accomplishing whatever goals we set out for ourselves. Certainly, we swam until our arms were ready to fall off, but the ultimate prize was time improvements at the swim meets.

It is tough to break habits, and as I morphed into a triathlete and now a runner, my training is still centered on achieving racing goals. Don’t get me wrong, I love to train. But, ultimately, I love racing more. My training is systematic and well thought out months in advance with an eye on whatever races are on the horizon. I am extremely competitive and I like to throw down on the race course. Even after so many years, I am disappointed when goals are not met and I go back to the training to do better the next time.

Racing to train

This past weekend I ran the Liberty 4 miler in Denver. At the finish line, I spoke with a competitor. This was our conversation.

Runner guy: I have not missed a day of running since November of 2009!

JZ: Really? I am not impressed. In fact, I think that is stupid.

Runner guy: Well, I have run 3 half marathons and 2 marathons this year and even I PR’ed the marathon.

JZ: Maybe you would have gone even faster had you taken a day off. I really do not understand this whole business of streaking.

Runner guy: I have it all worked out. Have you heard about the 1 day hard 3 day easy plan? That’s what I do. And, it is hard to take a day off now. I have to plan something really special.

I later apologized to Runner guy for my unabashed candor (sometimes words just come out of my mouth and I have no control. I think it is hereditary, my mother does the same thing.). Clearly, though, this person races to train. After I thought about our brief exchange, I realized that his motivation, while not congruent with my own, is really ok. Training is his passion and racing is secondary.

Over the years, I have encountered athletes who race to train. Their training strategy is very different from those who train to race. The workouts tend to be more haphazard without clear goals. Often, the workouts are more social or tend to be race-like. Easy rides turn into long rides. Days off turn into a smash-fest with the group. While some race goals may be met, often they are not because the training was not tailored to the racing.

The reasons are for training and racing are different for everyone. If it is done with enthusiasm and enjoyment, that is what truly matters.

Diesel the Dog: The Athlete

2011-06-26T19:37:00.000-06:00

Will someone please play with me?

It has been one year since Crazy Blonde and Deep Voice brought me home from the place I was kept with my two brothers after we were found on the street in Oklahoma. I’m so happy they picked me. I have the best life! I eat, sleep, poop, fetch, swim, run, play with my doggie friends and sleep some more. I am really lucky, because I have A LOT of energy and Crazy Blonde and Deep Voice make sure I get plenty of exercise.

We started with playing Frisbee. I am really good at it. I run really fast after the Frisbee and then jump high in the air and grab it with my mouth. Sometimes I like to show off and do some tricks while I am in the air. Everyone ooh’s and ahh’s and I get yummy treats. You know what I really hate though? When Crazy Blonde pretends to the throw the Frisbee and I go running after it and look around and it is still in her hand. I feel so foolish and everyone laughs. Stop doing that, I do not find it amusing.

I'm a jumper!

When I got old enough, Crazy Blonde started taking me for runs. She attached my leash around her waist and off we went. At first we only ran a little bit. It felt like we just went around the block. Then I got to run longer. It is the best. We go to really cool trails with lots of things to smell and see. The other day I saw this big animal that Crazy Blonde called a deer. I really wanted to chase after it, but Crazy Blonde wouldn’t let me. I can just run and run forever, with my ears flopping in the wind and my tongue hanging out of my mouth. I get to run several days a week with Crazy Blonde. Sometimes Deep Voice takes me out for a run. He is much slower, so those are my recovery days.

For a long time I would not chase a ball. But then, it was really windy every day for a long time and my Frisbee wouldn’t fly in the air very well. One windy day, Deep Voice threw me a ball and I went after it. I had no choice; I needed to run after something. Oh my goodness, it was much more fun than I thought it would be! Deep Voice got this funny looking object to throw the ball and it goes really far, almost across the park. Then Deep Voice got this bright orange ball that bounces really high. I can jump in the air like I do with my Frisbee, or I can chase after it at full speed.

Why do you tease me so? Just throw it already.

Now that it is summer, we go to the lake a lot so I can swim. It is not my favorite thing to do, but it is really refreshing and I don’t get so hot like I do when I play at the park. At first I was timid and would not go out very far. We have gone a lot, though, and I have been able to practice. I can go all the way to the middle of the lake! Of course, I only go in the water when somebody throws my favorite ball and I have to get it. I really don’t see the purpose of just going in for no reason.


I totally beat that other guy to shore

I like to nap after I workout. It is really good for my recovery.

Crazy Blonde keeps joking that if I could ride a bike I would be a really good triathlete. That seems silly though. How would I get a helmet to fit my head? And, those bike shorts look ridiculous, and where would I put my tail?

The female athlete discrepancy

2011-06-21T06:40:00.008-06:00

Last week Sports Illustrated published a list of the 50 highest paid athletes. Take a look at it. Do you notice anything unusual? Look again. There are no women on that list. None. Despite the ever increasing number of female sports stars as household names and despite the ever increasing number of female sports aficionados, female athletes are grossly underpaid and underrepresented.

This list is enlightening. One would imagine that men are earning more because the PGA, NBA, NFL and MLB have deep pockets to pay their athletes. It is true that much of the disparity starts in salary. But, here’s the thing. Most of the athletes on this list are earning the majority of their income from endorsements. The top three athletes earned between 30 million and 60 million in endorsements. Not salary. Not prize earnings. Endorsements.

I suppose it must mean that these athletes are fantastic role models, right? Think again. Tiger Woods still tops the list as the highest earner, despite the embarrassment of his personal life. Big companies are stuffing the pockets of their male athletes much more deeply than their female athletes, while the female athletes are often working harder to maintain their image and spend their precious free time engaging in charity work.

Many sports now boast equal pay for men and women in terms of prize money. Sports such as road running, triathlon, and tennis dole out comparable prize purses to both genders. And, in these sports the number of female participants is increasing, such that many running races actually have more female contestants than male. Why is it then, that males in these sports are more talked about and more hyped? Why are the males in these sports more recognized and looked up to? Why are the marketing dollars spent more on males than females?

Here is something that is really telling. Almost any write up about sports in which men and women competed on the same day (marathon running, track and field, triathlon, swimming) is always kicked off with the men’s recap. The space devoted to the men is often twice that of the women; the women’s race is treated as a postscript. Men are more highly lauded and treated as icons even though the women are competing on the same course on the same day.

The media, then, is perpetuating this discrepancy. Instead of making stars out of more top women athletes, they continually promote male athletes or spend their time focusing on a select few females. Certainly, the United States is dominated by very male-centric sports and the female counterparts to those sports (i.e. the WNBA) are after-thoughts. This weekend, people all over the world watched as Rory McIlroy won the US Open in record fashion. I bet that 90% of these people cannot even name an LPGA player let alone spend the weekend watching women compete.

Last fall I was honored to attend a retreat to launch EspnW, a self-proclaimed online destination for female sports fans and athletes. I applaud the recognition that a hole existed in the need for a platform for women’s athletics. But, I believe it is sad commentary that women’s athletics is such an afterthought in the mainstream media that a separate site was developed to fill this gap.

I believe the problem, then, is two-fold. The media promotes male athletes. Because the media has over-hyped male athletes, they become household names and thus, more marketable. This then leads to companies willing to shell out more dollars to these athletes leaving much less for female athletes even if they have superior skills both on and off the playing field.

Women athletes are working just as hard as male athletes. Women athletes have the potential to be fantastic role models. It is up to society to recognize this and shout a little louder that they deserve equal recognition.

Spinning your wheels: an open water swimming primer

2011-06-14T09:59:00.002-06:00

When I was growing up as a swimmer, I was a terrible sprinter. We practiced our fast swimming often and sometimes I even had to swim the sprints in swim meets. I was so bad a sprinter, my 100 meter freestyle time was only a tad faster than what I would do on the first 100 of a 200 meter swim. After one particularly slow and painful 100 on a relay, my coach admonished me, “You are trying too hard and you are spinning your wheels. Your arms are flailing (I don’t know how he could actually tell, since my arms always flail).”

His words did not resonate at all. I blew him off since I knew that my future was in distance swimming and I just really hated sprinting.

When I turned to triathlon, I regretted my laissez-faire attitude about swimming fast. It is true that well swum distance events in the pool are controlled at the start. However, in triathlon, the swim start is frenzied with everyone jockeying for position. One must be able to sprint to establish a good position or at the very least to not get swum over. I revisited the sprinting concept and work hard at honing my speed in a more efficient manner.

This very topic of swimming hard and swimming hard efficiently has been on my mind lately. I have had the pleasure of helping a few struggling swimmers with their stroke. When I asked them to swim hard the words of my former coach suddenly popped into my head. The reason these athletes were swimming so much slower in races than their capability is because they spin their wheels when they try to swim fast. The harder they are swimming, the less efficient they are in the water and they are expending more energy to go slower.

Let me give you an analogy. Imagine you are riding your bike down a steep hill in your small chain ring in your smallest gear and you are pedaling. Your legs are moving very fast but you are producing very little wattage and you are experiencing a lot of fatigue in your legs and you are breathing hard. Suddenly, another ride coasts by in a much bigger gear, seemingly effortlessly.

That is what happens to weaker swimmers and even many strong swimmers during races. They are effectively trying to swim in the wrong gear. There is so much extra energy expended on the swim that it inevitably leads to slower times in not only the swim, but also the bike and run.

Here are some tips to swim faster and more efficiently when you race.

Do not let your stroke become short and choppy. Try to maintain your same stroke length, but increase your stroke rate.
Do not increase your body movement. In many cases, the short, choppy stroke causes extra head movement and causes the body to wriggle like a worm.
Do not try to emulate the perfect stroke of Michael Phelps. I see so many swimmers aiming for a beautiful arm recovery with bent elbows. Open water swimming and pool swimming are very different. A higher recovery phase is actually very beneficial in open water swimming, especially if the water is rough. You want to be able to swing your arms over the waves.
Do not drop your elbows underneath the water. Propulsion in swimming comes from what happens underneath the water. If you do not “catch” the water, you will lose momentum and speed. Karlyn Pipes-Nielsen, a top master’s swimmer and a top-notch instructor, tells swimmers to think about how you would feel if you were paddling on a paddle board (check out her video here). Adopt this high elbow technique, and then practice it until it feels comfortable whether you are going hard or easy.

Do not panic at the swim start, this will only make your stroke worse.
Practice going hard in your training. Do lots of hard 25’s and 50’s to get used to good technique while swimming fast.

Now, of course, this is not the final word in stroke technique or open water swimming. Most people would benefit from a lesson from an expert to help them determine the shortcomings in their stroke. But, these tips should help you on race day if you practice them.

The Blue Line Index: Rock n' Roll San Diego

2011-06-06T14:51:00.000-06:00

Now that is a sea of people! I circled myself.

Ok, so I wore my Garmin during the Rock n Roll San Diego half marathon yesterday. Guess what? The course is long! My watch clocked me at 21.4 kilometers, a whopping 300 meters extra. I am going to take 65 seconds off my time to account for the extra distance I ran. I tried hard to run the tangents, but when you are running on a major freeway as we did for about 2 miles, the width of the road is tremendous. I was hugging the inside of the road and the aid station was on the outside; there was no way to even make it over there without adding significant distance.

I have yet to come across an athlete whose GPS device measures the course accurately. After races, I often hear grumbling that the course was long. To ameliorate the groans and complaints from runners with GPS devices, I recommend a Blue Line Index (BLI, if you will). Many major marathons, including the Olympics and the World Championships, paint a blue line on the road to mark where the course was measured. If athletes follow the blue line, they cut all of the tangents and run the shortest possible distance. No geometry is required during the race; just look for the blue line. The New York marathon website indicates that they use 75 gallons of “marathon blue” paint to mark the course in the days leading up to the race. Now, I am not suggesting that every marathon should paint a blue line on the course (although that would be a nice touch). But, wouldn’t it be cool if marathons had a Google earth map on their website with the blue line superimposed on the course to let runners know the shortest route?

36,000 people ran either the half or the full marathon. I was lucky to obtain an elite start, which placed me at the front of the throngs. I took my place at the head of the race with some heavily pedigreed runners. Needless to say, I felt terribly out of place. I didn’t need any triathlete gear to give away that I am a triathlete. My body said it all. With my swimmer’s arms and broad shoulders and my legs which still carry extra muscle from years of cycling, I felt gigantic. Fortunately, an athlete I coach, Jim Lubinski, was racing in the men’s elite half marathon field (as you can see from the photo, his attire SCREAMS triathlete). He is a rather big fellow towering over everyone there. We stood in the start corral chuckling to ourselves. Maybe we should have worn camo.

The race itself was a spectacle. From running Elvises to spectators proselytizing to bands galore to the stunning course, I thoroughly enjoyed this race. I stuck to my game plan of running conservatively and consistently. I powered up the hills and ran hard down them. I knocked off the miles one after the other and felt strong the entire way. I was very pleased with a new PR and with my second place finish. Ironically, despite the thousands of people in the race, after mile two I ran alone.

I wanted to go here instead of the race expo, but they wouldn't let me in. The aroma was intoxicating.

There are many merits to large scale races. They are extremely well organized. The expos are huge selling just about anything you can imagine to enhance your racing experience. Need a rack to hang your finisher medals? They were there. Need a special headband? Yep, you can find it. Want to get your medal engraved with your name and finisher time? That was on offer. There was even a booth selling flooring. I'm not quite sure how that fit into the mix, but maybe the soft surface promotes better recovery when walking around the house.

The biggest downside to the large scale race is the morning traffic. The race started at 6:15am. We left the house at 4:20. We were already too late. The traffic was backed up for miles and miles, worse than LA at its worst. After inching forward for 20 minutes watching the digital clock turn over from 5 to 5:05 to 5:10 to 5:20, my stress level starting rising (I was in serious need of a bathroom). My father used his New Yorker fancy maneuvering to navigate us through the sea of cars and get us to the venue with enough time to warm up. I am certain that a lot of people were still parking when the gun went off.

I’ll be back in San Diego in August for the AFC half marathon. Anyone know of a fast, flat half in July?

Bolder Boulder

2011-05-31T07:19:00.001-06:00

Photo from the Daily Camera: This is the wave I started in

In the eight years I have lived in Boulder, I have avoided the annual spectacle that is the Bolder Boulder 10K. Various reasons have kept me away from the start line. Conflicting races. Injuries. Apathy. But, mostly, I have stayed away from this legendary race because of the enormity of the number of racers.

This year, I decided that I had run out of excuses. I signed up for the race. In doing so, I embraced all that the Bolder Boulder weekend had to offer. Mark and I went to the Boulder Creek festival on Saturday and the race expo on Pearl Street on Sunday. Adding race day on Monday, I had three very full days of crowd control.

The happy group race morning: Mark, JZ, Krista, Lara, Billy

My race was over right from the start. I had trouble breathing almost immediately. When I reached the 2k banner, I was contemplating just running home since it was much closer than the finish line. I forged on though, mostly because Mark was running as well and we had planned to meet at the finish area. I backed off the pace in hopes of feeling better. Just after the 4 mile marker, I was stooped over on the side of the road wheezing like a pack a day smoker who just climbed a flight of stairs. After about 10 minutes, I stepped back onto the course and finished the race.

Fortunately, my asthma has been under fairly good control lately, so this episode was unexpected. Despite all of the years of experience with asthma, and despite all of the counseling I have given to other athletes with asthma, I was still incredibly disappointed that this happened. Later in the day, I commiserated with a fellow asthma sufferer who dropped out of the race at the very spot I stood on the side of the road. It turns out that misery truly loves company.

When I was discussing the race with Mark, I was lamenting about my frustration. He asked if I would have been happier if I had just run poorly and turned in a bad time. I replied, “of course, not,” to which he responded, “There is no such thing as a “good” bad day.” His words, which made me chuckle, are so true. I never jump for joy over a bad race, no matter the circumstances.

Despite the less than awesome outcome of this race, I had the opportunity to make some interesting observations.

Triathletes really stand out in running races. Runners pin their race number onto their shirt. Triathletes use a number belt. Runners either wear a full hat or no hat. Triathletes use a visor. Finally, runners wear their Boston marathon gear. Triathletes sport their Ironman gear. The wearing of the race shirt during the race seems to be a universal faux pas. Compression socks have made the jump from obscure triathlon fad to being respected apparel during run races. Today, I pinned my number on my top, but I wore a visor; apparently I am still a triathlete at heart.

Just in case you men out there were wondering, us ladies are well aware when our “headlights” are showing. No, we do not like it; it just happens to be a side effect of racing in scanty clothing. I have been caught on numerous occasions in photographs with this embarrassing affliction. I have tried different sports bras to no avail. I was grousing about this to my friend Kim recently when an indecent photo surfaced after a recent race. She owns a specialty bra shop called Boulder Fields (I liked the name The Knocker Locker, but she thought it was too crass). She recommended a product called DIMRS (you know, “dimmers”; such a cute name), a silicon protector which smoothes things out in the chest area. They worked fantastically and will now become a part of my race kit.

Racing at altitude is hard. I can’t wait to head to sea level this week to tackle the Rock ‘n Roll San Diego half marathon.

One track mind

2011-05-25T16:56:00.000-06:00

I have only run on the track twice this year. “That’s heresy!” you say? Yes, it is true that triathletes have a strange fixation with the track. I, too, have done hard time on the track, running up to two workouts a week going around and around and around the oval. This year, I shied away from the track, instead running intervals on the trails, roads and bike paths, with occasional treadmill workouts thrown in when the weather was uncooperative.

Certainly the track has its merits. It is flat, usually a cushy surface, and the length is perfectly measured (disregarding the track near my house which is uphill on the first turn, paved with precarious cracks all around, and it is slightly longer than 400 meters. It is, however, where we run our annual beer mile). You don’t have to worry about stepping on dogs or avoiding oblivious walkers. With a large group, running on the track keeps everyone together.

I contend that breaking away from the track for some workouts is refreshing and may even save your legs. The constant strain on the inner leg is never quite equalized by running the recovery in the opposite direction. Running on the track somehow beckons for running faster than one should actually run. If a workout calls for 5k pace, doing it on the track will invariably result in times much faster than one can conceivably hold for 5k. Look, I am just as guilty as you are of running too fast on the track.

And, who doesn’t get workout anxiety when there is a hard track session on the schedule? Somehow, 8x800 on the track is far more intimidating than 8x3 minutes (or thereabouts) on a lovely trail, even though both are virtually the same.

Now, I am not saying to avoid the track altogether. The track is perfect for shorter, faster intervals; or, if you cannot find a flattish stretch of road to run on; or, to just do a workout every now and again.

But, with GPS watches, it is easy to measure out any distance you want to run and check your pace obsessively at all times. This year, I have run intervals from 30 seconds up to 10k in training. My trusty watch keeps me in check, so there is no guess work involved. I know my target pace for each workout, before I start, and I do my best to hit those paces.

By extricating myself from the track and running on the roads (or trails), I believe I am preparing my legs better for racing. All of the places I have done my intervals are undulating and canted, similar to the conditions of the races I intend to run. It is comparable to riding your bike on the road vs. the trainer.

Next time you head to the track, test out the road instead and see what you think.

Colfax Half Marathon

2011-05-16T09:31:00.000-06:00

I'm in the blue PowerBar top and white visor.

Have I ever mentioned that I hate being cold? I am the type of person who shivers and turns purple when it is sunny and 60 degrees. My nemesis is cold and wet. I have no ability to stay warm in those conditions. The forecast for the Colfax half marathon was less than desirable, but I optimistically figured that running the LA marathon in similar conditions had given me some resiliency, a shield of armor if you will. Alas, it did not.

Given the 6 am start time and 45 minute drive to Denver, my alarm was set for 3:45. I was worried about being able to crawl out of bed at such an ungodly hour, that I would be weary and tired. My apprehension about oversleeping was unwarranted. I lay in bed wide awake at 2:45 listening to the rain pelt the window, the gutters, and the roof. Ugh. I was not psyched about running another race in cold and wet conditions.

I finally got out of bed at 3. I had to check weather.com to find out if the rain would continue or abate. It seemed that the rain would stop around the time the race was over.

I played online Scrabble and drank coffee. Evidently, the mind does not work as well that early, because I could not find a word out of these letters: ogd. My body was definitely in race mode, as I was able to complete my “business” at 3:15. At least that was a relief!

We set off for the race venue at 4:30. The thermometer in the car read a chilly 36 and there was no promise of it getting any warmer. I had a very hard time deciding what to wear. I packed my bag with all manner of options. My optimistic self packed shorts, a short sleeve shirt and sunglasses. My realistic self packed heavy gloves, tights, a long sleeved shirt and a jacket. All of the clothing was very confusing, as I now had endless combinations from which to choose.

Ultimately, I decided to race in the heavy gloves, tights and two shirts. I wore the jacket for my warm up and shed it before the start. Standing around in the corral waiting for the race to begin, my feet turned into bricks. Yep, it was going to be a cold one.

My race strategy was to start very conservatively. My ribs had been bothering me all week and the cold air really affects my breathing. I knew my best chance for a good race would be to build the first half, which was uphill and then open it up on the downhill of the second half.

I stuck to my plan and found myself in second place, not too far behind the lead female. By mile 3, I knew my pace was way off. I took over the lead around mile 9 and crossed the line first. My time was about 2 minutes off of my goal.

The first half of the race course itself was not terribly scenic; it was a concrete jungle. Colfax Ave. boasts pawn shops, convenience stores and shady characters. The second half was much nicer as the course traversed some upscale neighborhoods and took us right through a fire station (which was temptingly heated). At mile 11, the finish line was visible, which is torture when you are cold and have to use the bathroom.

Runners going through the fire station

Here is a good tip. I have a history of getting blisters in wet conditions. I got a pedicure before this race and before the LA marathon. Even though my feet were soaked through, I avoided all foot problems. Coincidence? I think not.

Next up, the Bolder Boulder 10k. I am hoping for a nicer day. Has anyone seen the long range forecast?

The 20 Minute Rule

2011-05-11T07:43:00.000-06:00

Do you ever wake up in the morning questioning whether to train? Can’t even get out of bed? How about standing on the pool deck debating whether to dive in? Your body is tired and your brain is frazzled. What to do? On these days, I ask myself, am I really too tired (or sore) to train. If the answer is a resounding yes, then I skip the workout.

Usually, however, I prod myself to start the workout with this caveat: if I still don’t feel right after 20 minutes, then it is time to pull the pin. I have dubbed this “The 20 minute rule”. It is a highly valuable motivator on days when motivation is lacking.

No workout can be judged before it begins or even during the first five minutes. I have found that twenty minutes is the optimal amount of time to give the mind and body a proper warm up. After the initial few minutes, the blood starts flowing loosening up the muscles. The legs start feeling better and the body awakens from its slumber. It is not enough time, though, to do damage if you are ailing in some manner.

The 20 minute rule is an extremely useful tool and has a number of applications. It is equally effective for swimming, biking and running.

Suppose you have an important bike workout with some tough intervals. You are dragging and no amount of caffeine is helping. My suggestion is to ride easy for 20 minutes and then assess your situation. If you feel better, do a few pickups and start your intervals. If after 20 minutes, you still feel shabby, go home and take a nap.

Right now, I am applying the 20 minute rule on a regular basis at the pool. My rib pain has flared up again, and swimming seemingly makes it worse. If my ribs hurt at the 20 minute mark, I hop out of the pool and sulk in the shower. If at 20 minutes I am pain-free, I complete the workout and smile in the shower.

I have used the 20 minute rule when recovering from illness and injury. It has proved useful when determining if my asthma will be an issue. The 20 minute rule has let me know whether my legs are ready for bike or run intervals. I have never had a successful workout if I don't feel good within the first 20 minutes.

And then there are the days that the 20 minutes of warm up offer up a pleasant surprise: an outstanding workout.

How do you decide whether to work out on days you feel tired?

The age old debate: What age is old in triathlon?

2011-04-29T09:26:00.000-06:00

It has come to my attention that next week I will be expected to celebrate another birthday. What? Didn’t I just turn 40? I have written about aging on a few occasions (here and here), but the theme of age and athletics seems to pop up regularly in my life. Just last week, I was interviewed for an article for espnW about how women are staying fit in their sports longer than ever.

If athletes in their 40’s and beyond are “old” the corollary must be that athletes in their 20’s are young. The lore that is handed down from generation to generation is that younger athletes recover better, they can train harder, and they are resistant to the pitfalls of the older athlete. Youth almost begs for recklessness in training as the mistakes are seemingly easily forgiven.

I beg to differ.

I recently started working with a very young triathlete at the beginning of her career. She came to me tired, over-trained, and verging on burn out. Her situation has made me rethink about age and athletics.

There is no magic formula to longevity in sport, but here is a truism. You can be old at 25 and sprightly at 50. Much of it depends on your outlook, resourcefulness, and willingness to change.

It is the willingness to change that I want to embellish on. Longevity embodies durability, prolonged survival, sturdiness. How does one achieve such things? Doing the same training, year after year, expecting the same results is foolhardy. The mind and body change over time and so must training.

A key, then, to longevity, is a willingness to leave your comfort zone and modify your daily routine. It is recognizing that without varying your workouts you will stagnate. There are endless ways to keep training exciting, to move yourself forward, to postpone the effects of time. It may mean joining a new Masters swim group. Finding new training partners. Hiring a coach. Adding intensity to your training. Doing less mileage. Purchasing a power meter. Running new trails. Getting a massage.

There is no doubt, with age comes the baggage of age. But learning from the mistakes of the past and incorporating change into your present will keep you young and fresh and help you find your fountain of youth.

The Perfect Snack

2011-04-20T09:12:00.000-06:00

Even though I eat three meals a day, I constantly snack. This habit began during high school and was so pervasive my mother would often tell me that I grazed like a cow and to please close the refrigerator door that nothing new materialized in the five minutes since I last opened it. I have had many years to perfect my art of snacking. I have tried everything from Little Debbies to beef jerky. In this snacking pandemonium, I have discovered that there is no one perfect snack. Snacks are situational, and the food must fit the setting.

Driving in the car
I confess that I eat in my car often. I have inhaled bagels (sesame seeds bagels are the worst. I end up with seeds all over my lap, the crevices of the seat and the floor) and have been spotted balancing a sub in one hand and the steering wheel in the other. The best car snacks, though, are ones that meet several criteria: they don’t melt, they don't freeze, they don’t leave a residue on your hands, if you drop it no mess will occur, they don’t go stale, and they don't ruin your next meal by filling you up. After trial and error, my number one choice for the perfect car snack is pretzels. They are crunchy, salty, and not messy.

Meetings
I go to meetings armed with food. I never know when one might run too long and my stomach starts making embarrassing noises. I cringe when people bring apples or other such loud edibles to meetings. The noise of a person masticating their food is very off putting. I, myself, prefer to eat yogurt. It is noiseless, filling and simply delicious (I am currently on a Chobani kick). There is also the added benefit of using the empty container as a receptacle for chewed gum and used tissues.

Between Workouts
I often do workouts back to back, going directly from the gym to a swim, or running shortly after a swim. It is not a brick, per se, but the workouts are stacked close together. The between workout snack is pivotal. It must provide the calories needed to fuel the next workout, but must not sit too heavy in the stomach. It must be portable and not spoil if sitting around too long. Between workouts is when I rely heavily on energy bars or gels. My favorite right now is the PowerBar Gel Blasts. They are chewy like candy with a surprise center. They are edible if they melt or get a little stale and hey I am sponsored by PowerBar, so they deserve a plug.

Sitting at the computer
Eating while working on the computer is risky business. Spill something on the keyboard and your work day is done amid a storm of profanities. I have sat at my workstation and snacked on crackers, fruit, cookies, and chips. Many of these snacks leave my hands sticky or filled with residue which then ends up on the keyboard, so I have ruled them out at the perfect computer snack. Trail mix wins this category. The combination of sweet and salty, crunchy and soft is delectable. My favorite brand, of course, comes from Trader Joe's and is therefore imported, like fine wine.

Sick as a dog

2011-04-12T15:15:00.001-06:00

This blog details the past few days in the life of Diesel the dog, as told to me by Diesel.

Here I am lying on my bed feeling sick

Saturday was the best day ever. I hiked in the morning on my favorite trail with Deep Voice. Then, in the afternoon, Deep Voice and Crazy Blonde took me to swim at the lake with my buddy Bogart. We had so much fun! I used to be scared of the water, but apparently Crazy Blonde is some kind of swimmer and she was insistent that I become a water dog. So, now I love it.

After swimming we went to see some friends of Deep Voice and Crazy Blonde. They have a huge backyard and I got to run after a ball. I love to fetch. We finally went home and I got to eat dinner. I have a habit of eating really quickly, and today I scarfed my food down. I was hungry after running around so much.

We went to Bogart’s house for some kind of food ritual in which the food was cooked outside but everyone ate inside. Suddenly, out of nowhere, all of my food from dinner reappeared on the carpet. It was a magical moment. I created more food. Of course, I started to eat it, until Deep Voice shooed me away and put it all into a bag to throw away. What a waste of a perfectly yummy second dinner.

By the time I went to sleep, I wasn’t feeling that great. In the middle of the night, I woke up and more food came out. It made me feel much better.

On Sunday, I felt just fine and got to chase my ball and play some Frisbee. I was given some strange concoction of food that was soft and white and chewy. I ate it with gusto, as I do everything, but it was not as tasty as my normal stuff.

I went to sleep feeling fine. Imagine my surprise when I woke up and more food came out. Now Deep Voice and Crazy Blonde seemed very concerned. They were talking in very serious voices.

This is where I get to play sometimes. I also go here when I am sick.

The next morning, Crazy Blonde didn’t give me any breakfast. I was so mad until she took me to the place where I go to doggie day care. I got so excited to see the nice ladies who work behind the desk. This time, though, they didn’t take me back to play with the other dogs.

I had to go to the small room and sit on the cold floor while Crazy Blonde talked to somebody for a while. Then, my privacy was rudely invaded so they could get my temperature. I had to stay at the place all day while they poked and prodded me.

They gave me some medicine and I felt better and then I got really hungry. Finally, someone gave me some food. It wasn’t very much, though. The vet said I am high strung. Well, duh. I haven’t had good meal or exercise in a while. That’s enough to make anyone antsy, especially Crazy Blonde.

Deep Voice came to get me. I was so happy to see him; I jumped up and down and looked my cutest. I was hoping he would give me a treat, but he didn’t.

When we got home, Crazy Blonde was making dinner. Wow, it smelled good. I followed her around the kitchen giving her my best sad eyes. Usually, she sneaks me a little bit of whatever she is making, but not tonight. Boy, was I annoyed. I sniffed the floor for scraps, but there was nothing.

Today has been a very frustrating day. I am hungry, but all I get is a few spoonfuls of mushy food every few hours, and nobody will take me to play fetch. I keep giving Crazy Blonde the googly eyes, but she just laughs and pats me on the head. At least she took me for walk.


This is my favorite food.

This is the yucky mush the vet makes me eat when my tummy hurts

Maybe tomorrow will be a better day.

My advice to all of you doggies out there: if you think you might throw up, hold it down if you can.

And for all of you dog owners: get pet insurance, it helps!

Choosing races

2011-04-07T09:30:00.001-06:00

Normally, at the beginning of each year I map out a race plan for the season. This year, I put the ritual on hold. My uncertainty about racing triathlon, or even racing at all, led me to procrastinate until I could no longer ignore the truth. I will not be racing any triathlons this year. I am no closer to successfully riding my bike than I was 6 months ago.

My five week riding experiment in February ended without success. The symptoms I was experiencing last year in the rib and chest wall areas all returned with vigor. I hung up my bike again and prepared for the LA marathon wholeheartedly. After the race, I was left with a void, as we often are after a major race.

It was time, then, to create a race schedule. As a very goal oriented person who loves racing, I needed to put something on the calendar quickly, something to refocus my energies. The majority of my races will be running races, with perhaps a few open water swims thrown in for good measure. Here is the thought process that went into developing my race schedule.

Of course, the main goal is the Olympic trials standard, which I missed by two minutes in LA. After chatting with Coach Darren, I decided to run the Twin Cities marathon in October. The course is supposedly fast (well, it’s fast if I run fast) and it is the masters marathon championships. Yippee. I get to race “old” people! Don’t be deceived. These women run FAST.

In order to improve my marathon, I also need to run a faster half marathon. I chose two key sea level half marathons, both in San Diego. How convenient is that (mom and dad, if you are reading this, can I stay with you?)? First is the Rock and Roll race in June and then America’s Finest City half in August.

My first post-marathon foray is the Colfax half marathon May 15. Can you believe this race starts at 6am? That is earlier than any triathlon I have ever done! Is it even light at 6? I may have to sleep in my car at the race start to make sure I am there on time.

The rest of my schedule will be populated with local races from 5k to half marathon which I will spontaneously choose to do when it fits into the training. A rather rogue approach compared to my normally meticulous planning.

Now that I have some races planned, I better get running.

Going to the well

2011-03-28T06:41:00.000-06:00

Six days after the LA marathon, I was still sore and tired. Very few races in my career have left me in that condition for so long. Before you jump to the conclusion that age is wearing me down, hear me out on another explanation. I believe my post-race torpor stemmed from my actions on the race course: I went to the well.

Going to the well, entering the pain cave, giving it your all. All of these expressions represent the single notion of leaving a part of yourself on the playing field. It means that, regardless of the outcome, an athlete pushed through pain and self-doubt to cross the finish line, usually hobbled and incoherent.

One can go to the well under any number of circumstances: bonking, too hot, too cold, under-trained, over-trained, started too hard, cramping, pushing for a PR, trying for the win, aiming for a Kona slot. You know you have been there if you started bargaining with God or whatever deity you believe in and you promise yourself that this is last time you will ever do this (the irony, of course is that time heals all wounds and we all head right back for the start line just knowing it will be different next time). Yes, this is the miserable feeling of pushing through when your body just wants to collapse.

In my own career, I have been back and forth to the well, withdrawing plenty of water. Thank goodness, my well seems deep and it has been spread out over many years. I have been to the well during Ironman on plenty of occasions, but I have also visited on short races when the intensity and the weather have been steaming hot.

One never forgets their first trip to the well. Mine occurred during my first half Ironman race, the Muncie Endurathon. A combination of factors led to my demise on the race course. I was a newbie trying out a trick usually reserved for veterans; I raced an Olympic distance race the weekend before. I subsequently contracted a sinus infection. Additionally, I was grossly under-prepared for such a long race. Race day was hot enough to melt the pavement and the soles of my shoes. I was so tired entering T2, I wanted to nap underneath the tree outside transition instead of running 13.1 miles. I forced myself out on the course and trudged through the sauna, walking and running until I finally finished. I was bonked, dehydrated and miserable. When my name was called at the awards ceremony to claim a Kona slot I ran hard the other direction and let someone else sweat it out in Hawaii.

Going to the well is usually unplanned. Of course, we all believe that we can “go there” at any race. But, most races do not require such drastic measures. Usually, you can race hard and achieve your goals with some discomfort, but without extreme suffering. Going to the well takes a physical and mental toll. Use your trips wisely, under circumstances that really count. One cannot make multiple trips to the well in a season and only a finite number of times over a career.

And that brings me back to the LA marathon. The driving rain and cold temperatures affected me badly. I became disoriented during the race and my quads were burning. Yet, I pushed through. I went to the well. Interestingly, I did not even realize I was going to the well while I was racing. My brain had shut off and I was running on autopilot.

Next time you approach the well, ask yourself “Is it worth it today?”

A wet day in LA

2011-03-21T11:12:00.000-06:00

I knew as soon as the 10 day forecast for Los Angeles was posted that rain was imminent on marathon Sunday. I stalked weather.com all week desperately hoping to see a smiling sun in place of the cloud with raindrops. It never happened. It was no surprise, then, that race day dawned cloudy and cold and shortly after the gun fired the rain started.

California rain is unique, more like a deluge than a drizzle. The roads have no capacity for shedding the teeming water, thus, flooding occurs quickly. Some people are impervious to such miserable conditions; the men’s winner broke the course record by 2 minutes in his marathon debut. Others are not so hearty; 2000 people, including myself, were treated for hypothermia at the finish and 30% of the field did not finish.

Despite the misery of the weather, there was plenty about the day that was agreeable.

This photo of the start is from the Huffington post. I circled myself in yellow.

Positive: In 2000 at the age of 29 in the marathon Olympic Trials, I set my PR. In 2011, at the age 40 I came within 60 seconds of that time.

Negative: A guy running barefoot kicked my butt (every time I stepped in yet another puddle, I kept thinking that he didn’t have to worry about his shoes getting wet and heavy).

Positive: I only missed the Olympic trials time standard by two minutes. I am feeling a lot more confident about my ability to run that fast.

Negative: I have to run another marathon this year.

Positive: I got the VIP treatment from race director Peter Abraham race day. I was allowed into the suite at Dodger Stadium race morning. There was food, plenty of comfortable seating and lots of bathrooms. My sister graciously dropped me off at 4:40am and I spent the next 2 hours keeping warm inside rather than having to mill about in the cold. I even did my pre-race warm up along the hallways of the stadium.

Negative: I still had to stand around in the cold for almost an hour. We went to the start line early to secure good positions, and the race was delayed by 30 minutes.

Positive: Race morning, I had nothing with me but some extra clothes, my phone and Ipod.

Negative: Triathlon requires so much time in the morning – setting up transition, warming up three sports, standing in line at the porta-potty – that time flies. Sunday morning, I had nothing to do. Time stood still as I waited for the race to start.

Positive: I ran well. I ran hard. I never gave up even when I felt like I might fall down.

Negative: I am so sore I am hobbled. Last night, at the airport, I tried to run to catch the parking shuttle. I ended up doing a weird, Frankenstein type shuffle instead that actually made people stop and stare.

Positive: I raced for the first time with my Garmin. Instead of focusing on mile splits, I broke the race up into 8x5k. I glanced at my pace periodically, but was most concerned with my 5k times. It made the race go by so much faster.

Negative: I was on pace for the Olympic trials standard until 35k when my race unraveled quickly and dramatically. The last 7k was ugly. The 6:15-6:18 pace jumped to 6:45 and then I just stopped looking. My legs were seizing, I started to become disoriented, and my hands were so red they bordered on purple. The finish line never looked so good.

Positive: I stayed in a very nice hotel near my sister’s house.

Negative: My room seemed to have some kind of auditory anomaly that made every sound from the room next to me VERY LOUD. I was privy to the couple’s evening activities in explicit detail. I acknowledged their exploits by slipping this note under their door:

"Bravo on your performance last night. The entire hotel needed a cigarette afterwards."

Using my degree at IBG

2011-03-10T10:39:00.001-07:00

I am often asked whether I “use” my degree for anything. I find that a strange question. What can a degree be used for? As a credit card? To get discounts on movies? My degree, alas, hangs forlornly on the basement wall.

The degree in question, is my PhD in genetic epidemiology; the study of how genetic and environmental factors affect disease. Since moving to Boulder in 2003, I have been gainfully employed, albeit very part time, at the Institute for Behavioral Genetics (affectionately known as IBG), which is a part of the University of Colorado (affectionately known as CU, which makes no sense, it should be U of C or UC).

IBG focuses on conducting research on the genetic and environmental bases of individual differences in behavior, for example drug abuse and conduct disorder and various related topics. Truly, that is simplifying things, though. There is so much going on at IBG, and so many employees, one cannot keep track of all the projects without carefully perusing the IBG website. At the yearly holiday party, I walk around searching for familiar faces from my department in the sea of people I hardly recognize.

Working at IBG has been fascinating. When I started, I had no background in behavioral genetics. Mostly, I had no knowledge of the “behavioral” part of behavioral genetics. I sat in meetings with a blank look on my face as acronyms for studies were tossed around, various disorders were discussed and people consulted on unfamiliar methodologies. Eventually, I learned the vernacular and no longer felt like a stranger.

Over the years, I have been amazed at the rapid advancement in the field of genetics. Technology is moving so quickly, data is gathering at such a rapid speed and in such copious amounts, the ability to analyze and store the data has lagged behind. It is mind boggling how much computer space is needed and how large the new super computers will be to handle this load.

My work specifically focuses on alcohol, tobacco and marijuana use in adolescents and young adults. I have studied how various things affect whether an individual will become a user or abuser of a certain drug. Publish or perish is the mantra of academia, and I have been fortunate to author several papers that have been accepted to reputable journals.

My current project melds my two worlds. I am looking at how exercise affects drug use. We have a very unique situation in which we have information on a lot of individuals over a 10 year period, allowing us to follow changes in behavior over time.

Paradoxes abound at IBG. The world of academia is stimulating, but, things also can move at a sloth-like pace. At IBG, we are on the cutting edge of the field, but at meetings we sit on chairs from the 1970’s that have no cushioning left on them.

Women have historically been woefully under-represented in science. Not at IBG. Walk into any meeting or any building, and women will often comprise 50% of those present.

While I thoroughly enjoy my work at IBG, it can be a tough balancing act that requires creativity. I have been known to change for work in the parking lot after a workout and I often dash into a meeting barely on time with my breakfast in one hand and coffee in the other.

Running with Runners

2011-03-02T11:06:00.000-07:00

A month ago, I wrote about my excitement over getting back on the bike and riding again. Unfortunately, my elation was short lived. As each week progressed, my discomfort on the bike was more noticeable, culminating in some very painful rides. I tried many variations of bike positions and bikes to no avail. My ribs are just not yet ready to ride a bike.

I have taken this disappointment in stride. What else can I do? I am throwing myself whole heartedly into running and I am still swimming. The would-be biking time has been easily filled with other non-sporting activities.

A large part of my involvement in sport is the social aspect. I decided that joining a running group would help fill that void. My experience in San Diego with the Running Republic of Boulder was very positive, so I decided to run with them on a more regular basis.

Running with runners is a very different experience than running with triathletes. Apart from the actual running motion itself, it is two entirely different entities. Runners are not balancing three sports and are doing fewer workouts each week. This makes a very big difference in the execution of the key workouts.

Let me take, as an example, the track workout I did on Saturday:

We met at the track at 8am. The whole group warmed up together for 20 min. We started at a very pedestrian pace. We reconvened back on the track for 10 minutes of dynamic stretching. After stretching we did some strides. The workout was explained and off we went. In between the reps we had some rest in which we could walk, jog slowly, take a sip of water, and catch some air. After the workout we jogged a very easy warm down. In total, the workout lasted over 90 minutes.

Now, let me describe track workouts with triathletes:

We run to the track like we are being poked with a cattle prod. Once on the track, we start the workout immediately (unless someone needs a potty break, and then we wait). In between the reps, we jog the recovery and then go right into the next rep without a break. I never feel like my heart rate is quite low enough. The workout is over in breakneck speed and we run back to the car at a much too fast pace. There is just enough time to grab a quick bite to eat before the next workout. Phew, it is exhausting.

Treating a speed session as its own entity and savoring the experience rather than dashing through it on the way to the next thing has great advantages. The proper warm up and stretching routine allows for better recovery from the workout. Using the rest time as true rest and stopping to take a breather lead to faster times. The less manic approach to the workout makes it more enjoyable.

The next time you set out for a key run session give yourself enough time to properly carry out the workout. The extra time spent will pay dividends in performance and recovery.

2:46.00

2011-02-23T09:37:00.000-07:00

The last open marathon I ran was in LA ten years ago. In total, between 1993 and 2001, I ran 12 open marathons. My biggest achievement as a marathoner was 30th place at the 2000 Olympic Trials in a personal best of 2:47.03.

Triathlon eclipsed my marathon running. The season began earlier, ended later, and I started doing multiple Ironman races each year. I substituted marathons with half marathons and suddenly a decade has passed since my last marathon attempt.

With my cycling derailed by injury, I started slowly increasing my run volume. As my running progressed in both speed and duration, a crazy idea popped into my head. Wouldn’t it be fun to try to qualify for the 2012 Olympic Trials? And by fun, I mean an interesting challenge, because truly, running marathons is not really that much fun. If you have ever run an open marathon, you know that the fun stops around mile 16 and does not return until the finish line has been crossed and you are lying down.

My thought was to run the LA marathon. Aside from the synchronicity of it being the last marathon I ran, I enjoy racing in California. The trip from Colorado is simple, my family is there, and I get an extra hour of sleep. Additionally, the new course passes oh so close to my sister’s house that if I need a potty stop or a nap it can be easily done without wasting too much time. And, I figured it would give me plenty of time to run another marathon should I miss the time standard.

I laid out a plan that included varying workouts of speed and tempo. I started doing some double runs. My long runs, once capped at 2 hours, reached 2:30. I handled the mileage well, but I could not commit to such an endeavor until I ran the successful half marathon in San Diego.

You may be wondering how I can be so audacious as to think I can run a personal best by over a minute at 6 weeks shy of 41. Even though eleven years have passed since I set my best time, I have several things in my favor. My run form is much better now; I have worked hard with running experts to maximize my biomechanics. I have corrected many of the muscle imbalances that plagued me in the past with consistent and targeted gym work. I train smarter. My nutrition has improved. I have more respect for the distance now than I ever did in the past.

The race is March 20. The time to beat is 2:46.00. Let the fun begin!

More Triglets

2011-02-16T10:05:00.000-07:00

Last year I posted a list of Triglets, triathlon words that don’t exist but should. Here is part two.

Aeropeel – The moon shaped area on your back that burns and peels from being in the aerobars and your shirt does not provide proper back coverage.

Chlorofilm – The coating on your teeth after swimming in a heavily chlorinated pool.

Compudamage – The flat spot on your tire from riding on the trainer.

Endorfix – The good feeling after a good workout.

Excercoma – Exhaustion that occurs after a long day of training.

Fitnofade – The irrational fear triathletes have of losing fitness. No, it doesn’t go away while you are sleeping.

Ibuse – Using ibuprofen during training and racing to mask pain instead of taking time off.

Ironhangover – The aftermath of an Ironman, from dehydration, too much sugar and too much Ironman.

Linkgroan – The noise your chain makes when it is way too dry.

Number jockey – Anyone who is obsessed with their power numbers or run paces and constantly tell you about it.

Number-resin – The leftover body marking you see on people days after the race.

Pantry-Raid – Waking up at 2am hungry after a long day of training and eating everything in sight.

Specurace – Estimating what you could have done in the race had you not blown up.

Spree– The stream when you go to the bathroom on the bike.

Squeech – The noise your running shoes make when they get wet.

Tantoo – Permanent tan lines from years of swimming.

Trainwreck – A string of good workouts followed by a very bad day.

Triflation – Any lie that makes training better than it actually was when telling friends what you did.

The Horribly Hilly Half

2011-02-13T17:26:00.001-07:00

The start area is possibly the coldest place in San Diego. I was chilly!

My original plan was to run the Palm Springs Half Marathon. It seemed like a good idea; I wanted to run a flat course and set a PR. Maybe even eke under 1:19. The logistics of getting to Palm Springs became difficult and when I called the hotel to check on my reservation they didn’t even have it anyway.

Instead, I opted to stay in San Diego and run the San Dieguito Half Marathon, a race I have run 4 times since 2003. It is a beautiful course that winds through one of San Diego’s nicest areas. It is protected from the wind and the temperature is always perfect. It is also one of the hilliest courses around.

My mile splits were as up and down as the course

How hilly is it? Earlier in the week I rode my bike on sections of the course and had an internal discussion. I said “Self, you were very wise to sign up for Palm Springs this year. The terrain here is so hilly and this course is just brutal. Those poor saps will be chugging up the hills on Sunday while you will be running on much gentler terrain. Your quads will thank you.”

I have seen reports that the course has 2500 feet of climbing. Of course, that means there is an equal amount of downhill. But, the time gained on the downhill never seems to make up for the time lost going up.

Here is a funny story. At the start, the announcer said, “This course is USATF certified. It is exactly 13.1 miles. Do not come up to us after the race and show us your Garmin with 13.2 or 13.3 miles. The course is measured on the tangents. That is the shortest route.” Ironically enough, one of my athletes who had run Palm Springs sent me a text about race complaining that the course was long at 13.25 miles. I guess their announcer didn’t warn them beforehand to run the tangents.

When the horn sounded, I went out quickly. As you can see from the course profile, the first bit is downhill. Having run this in the past, I knew that I had to gain time early to make up for the nasty section from mile 2-3, give myself a cushion, if you will. I was running comfortably with a pack of men. By mile 4, I was concerned I might have given myself too much of a cushion. I went through 5 miles in the same time I ran the 8k last week.

I backed off a little to save some energy for worst mile of the race, mile 9. By then, I had caught back up to stragglers from the group of men I started with. Their company made the quad buster more manageable, and listening to a few of them curse in their own frustration at the pain was amusing. That mile was by far my slowest, and in the interest of making up time, I bombed down the hill, almost out of control.

The aid station around mile 10.5 was offering sangria. I’m not sure if they were serious. I stayed away from it just in case. You never know, though, this was a Hash House Harriers race and they are notorious drinkers!

The last mile to the finish is just merciless. It is uphill the entire way. When I went back out to do a warm down run, I overheard several entertaining comments on this section. One woman was yelling to a friend that her knee was f**ed. A man was muttering to himself, “What the hell?”

On that last mile, I tried to hold my form and not keep checking my watch, desperately hoping that time was standing still. I knew that a sub-1:20 was possible, and when I crossed the line first in 1:19.22 I was ecstatic. It was 3 minutes faster than last year. And, I finally bested my PR from 2005.

I had hoped to get in one last ride before packing up to leave for home tomorrow. But, I am so tired I have not even showered. Gross…

Cross Country National Championships

2011-02-06T21:08:00.000-07:00

The happy team before the race

If I was a horse, I would not be a mudder; I hate getting dirty. Luckily, the course for the 2011 Cross Country National Championships in San Diego was entirely on grass.

The 2k loop, which was completed four times, was deceptively hard. The first kilometer was flat, with a single turn. The second kilometer was twisty, hilly, off camber and a ton of fun! The spikes definitely provided needed stability, especially on the steep downhills.

My regular race strategy is to start controlled and build my pace. I knew that I would not be able to adhere to this plan. I was advised to go out hard to establish my position. In fact, I received a lot of pre-race guidance from people.

My good friend Greg sent along the best comments. He said, “XC is great! Primal. Tactical. It's mano-a-mano. No triathlon penalties here. No whiners allowed. Everyone is on their own. The gloves are off. You're not there to be nice, you’re there to beat everyone you can. You're there to win.”

When the gun fired, I went out hard. Really hard. I found myself in third and by the one kilometer mark, I moved into second. I knew a woman in my age group was sitting on my shoulder. I had to shed her before the last lap. I did not want to sprint anyone down the homestretch; that is not a battle I can win. I accelerated on the hills and by the third lap, I finally dropped her. I finished first in my age group and second overall.

Colleen De Reuck was the overall winner, beating me by 90 seconds. At 46, she is still incredibly fast, and thankfully not in my age group. Her first, my second and Laura Breuss’s sixth put our team on the top step of the podium. The other two team members, Lydia Dissly and Mary Mosier, also put in strong performances.

The cross country format is exciting. The course layout is spectator friendly and the varying terrain make the kilometers pass by quickly.

After an easy warm down and a quick swim, I went back to the race site to watch the open men’s and women’s races. I follow track and field closely, so I am familiar with the top runners, and I felt like it was an opportunity to learn something by watching the best.

It was enlightening. I realized why I am not a world class runner.

My ponytail is too short. All of the top women had ponytails flowing behind them like a mane. My ponytail is stubby and looks like a chia pet.

I have the wrong attire. In order to place in the top 10, one must wear booty shorts and a jog bra with awesome abs on display. I wear regular running shorts and a longer top to cover my frighteningly white stomach that does not have a 6-pack.

My run form is deplorable. Do you remember the scene from Miss Congeniality in which Michael Cain’s character tells Sandra Bullock’s character to glide while she walks? Well, Shalane Flannagan, the women’s winner, glided. Her run form is impeccable; she made the hard work look easy. In stark contrast, my arms flail, my feet turn out, I have a grimace on my face, and even when I run at full speed, it looks like I am doing the Kona shuffle.

But, the primary reason I am not world class runner? I’m just not that fast.

I hope to run another cross country race again. I have to put my funky spikes to good use.

A little silly at dinner after the race.

There is no I in team (but there is in triathlon)

2011-02-04T08:56:00.001-07:00

In the world of swimming, Masters status is achieved at the age of 18. I swam my first Masters meet when I was 23. In the world of running, Masters status is achieved at the age of 40. Guess what? I am 40. It turns out that being a 40 year old female runner is quite useful.

Last November, Darren De Reuck, a Masters runner and renowned coach, started recruiting me to run cross country nationals. He wanted me to run on a team as part of his club, the Running Republic of Boulder. At first I laughed heartily at his request. I have never run a cross country race. I am generally not a team person. At 8K, the distance is much too short. The excuses kept flowing.

After some consideration and several solid speed workouts, I decided that it would be a fun and unique experience and I would be crazy to pass it up. The team concept really intrigued me since triathlon is such an individual sport. Even when I competed at the Olympics and in World Championships, my performance never directly affected the United States as a team (now the ITU holds a relay championship, but I am long past competing in such an event).

As an added bonus, the race is in San Diego, a mere 15 minutes from my parents. I am very familiar with the course having run in the area on numerous occasions.

I was urged to purchase a pair of spikes for the occasion. Having never worn a pair, I had no idea what to expect. They are very narrow and outrageously colored. I am wondering how to repurpose them for casual wear.

The next topic for discussion has been the spikes themselves. I was under the impression they come in one length. How silly of me; there are multiple lengths for varying conditions: dry grass, wet grass, thick grass, mud, dirt, hot coals. You can even use blanks if there will be an abundance of pavement. I never even knew this could be a problem since it is cross country and not a road race.

I have been duly warned that my calves will be extremely sore for several days from wearing the spikes, especially since I have never worn them before and I have not had an ample opportunity to practice with them. The grass in Boulder this time of year, when it is not covered by snow, is very hard and craggy. The grass on the race course will be supple and manicured, somewhat like a golf course.

My theory is that since I am a forefoot runner anyway, the extra load from the spikes will be minimal. I hope this is the case since I am running a half marathon eight days later.

Wish me luck; I’ll need it so I don’t take a spike in the shin.

Older and wiser

2011-02-02T10:15:00.000-07:00

I am often asked how my training has changed now that I am an older athlete. Of course, I like to think that I am Peter Pan, and I will never grow up. I am not oblivious though. I do realize that as the years go by, times will get slower, recovery harder, and training will have to change. I get riled up when people blame age for just about everything.

Many of the issues that occur in older athletes do not stem from age but from lack of common sense or unwillingness to change. Age is often used as an excuse. If you run through shin splints, it will become a stress fracture whether you are 20 or 60. Yes, ignoring the warning sign of injury or over-training will wreak havoc on anyone. I will stipulate that the process is probably hastened at 60.

Truly, there are many benefits to being an older athlete; the wisdom and experience that comes from past mistakes can be applied to the present and future. This knowledge, if applied correctly, can delay the decline in performance that one would expect with age.

Upon careful consideration of the question, “how has your training changed over the years?” I have come up with answers.

1.    I train less. I have a reputation of being an over-trainer. I won’t deny that I love logging long hours. But, I train fewer hours that are more targeted. In the past, much of my training was aimless. Now, every workout has a purpose.

2.    Mother Nature wins. I have lived in a lot of cold climates. In my younger, more stubborn days, I would run and often ride in just about any condition. My water bottles would freeze, my hands and feet would turn purple, and my workouts would be terrible. All for the sake of being outside. These days, I take it inside and use the treadmill and trainer. Even if the workout is shorter and less exciting, at least I work up a sweat. And, my lungs cannot handle the extreme cold anyway.

3.    Rest, the fourth discipline. I hate days off as much as anyone, but I now incorporate them regularly into my schedule. A day off is rejuvenating. I never understand how people have streaks of 700 days of training in a row or 100 days of running without a day off. Training relentlessly is not a key to success and will age you quickly.

4.    Missing workouts. Even worse than a rest day is missing a planned workout. It causes me angst and I often wrestle with the idea for a long while before concluding that I should just skip it. In the past, I would forge ahead with a workout despite illness, extreme fatigue, or deep muscle soreness. I would drag my body out the door, plod through a given session, and then drag my body back home. The workouts would be unsuccessful and lead to more fruitless workouts for many days. Now, I will skip a workout if I am certain the outcome will be unsuccessful (that being said, it still sends me into a guilt spiral).

5.    I never take anything for granted. A string of excellent workouts can be followed up by a bout of the flu. A series of stellar races can end with a long term injury. When things are going well, I relish it. I appreciate the good workouts, good health, and good weather more now than I ever have.

Aging can be difficult as an athlete. But, if you use your past experiences advantageously, you can use your maturity to continue to train well and race fast.

Back in the Saddle Again

2011-01-26T17:52:00.002-07:00

My bike hung sadly on a hook in the garage, untouched for almost 5 months. It mocked me daily, beckoning me with a sly smile. I knew the bike was not lonely, though, as it was kept company by two others, also abandoned in differing states of disrepair. After a while, we grew apart. The longing looks no longer occurred. The feel of the open road was almost forgotten.

Then suddenly, two weeks ago, I decided to blow the dust off my bike. I lugged it down to the basement for a trainer ride.

I had no idea what to expect. In my entire athletic career, I had never taken that much time off of anything. My fitness was not lacking; I have been running quite a bit and swimming several days a week. I figured it couldn’t be too bad.

It was worse than I could have imagined!

I started with 30 minutes of easy spinning. My legs did not feel good at all. But, even worse, was my tush. After 15 minutes, my sit bones ached. When I rode again two days later I could hardly sit on the saddle for the first 20 minutes. I felt bruised and uncomfortable; I could not find the sweet spot on the seat.
By my fourth ride, I felt ready to try some “intervals”. This time it only took 10 minutes to feel comfortable sitting on the saddle. After another 20 minutes, I was ready to start.

I did a very basic workout, 10x3 min with a minute recovery. I increased my wattage in groups of 3 and did one hard one on the end. It was an utterly interesting workout.

As expected, my watts were quite low. The surprise came in the difficulty I had keeping my watts steady throughout the interval. Even though I hit my target for each interval, I was all over the map. I was seeing 15 watt jumps and drops. My power file looked like the Rocky Mountains.

This was very strange, as I have always been able to hold my rides steady, especially during intervals. My power files are usually very flat, the only variations coming if there is a stop light or a turn.

After several more indoor rides, the weather in Boulder turned beautiful so I ventured outside. It was wonderful to be back on the familiar roads.

I decided to revisit the 10x3 minutes. This time my watts were markedly higher and much steadier. The weather seduced me into riding a little longer than planned. My legs hit the wall about 20 minutes from home. I could barely turn over the pedals and every hillock was arduous.

When I climbed off the bike, my legs and back were aching, but I was pleased with the ride. My ribs did not hurt.

You know that old adage, “it’s just like riding a bike, you never forget?” It is so true. If I take even just a few days out of the water, upon return, my stroke feels awkward. I have had some running injuries that have taken me out for 6 weeks. The initial runs after the layoff feel strange and clumsy. Even after 5 months off the bike, I did not feel uncoordinated. Yes, my legs are de-conditioned and sore. Yes, I had to reacquaint my rear with the saddle. But, even on my first ride outside, it felt like no time had passed. My balance, ability to spin, and feel for the road had not diminished.

Tomorrow is supposed to be 60 degrees. You can bet that I will be out there finding some more cycling fitness.

Who's Your Daddy?

2011-01-19T10:18:00.002-07:00

We adopted Diesel from the Humane Society in June. He was listed as a retriever/mix. On our first visit to the vet, she declared him a Labrador retriever/Border Collie mix, but he would be small, as she predicted he would grow to about 40 pounds (he currently weighs in at 37.5 pounds).

Over the last few months, much debate ensued about Diesel’s ancestry. Of course, we asked him to describe his parents, but we have not found anyone that can translate his barking into English.

Our friends Billy and Lara were especially curious about Diesel’s background. Diesel spends a lot of time at their house and their dog Bogart is Diesel’s BFF. The general consensus between the two of them and Mark and I was that Diesel was part Border collie. His other lineage was the dispute.

Lara insisted that he was not a Retriever; she guessed Whippet. Billy claimed that he was Chihuahua. Mark and I still thought he was a Lab.

One would think that my background as a geneticist would have made me intensely curious about Diesel’s lineage. This was not the case. At our first visit to the vet, she mentioned that we could get Diesel DNA tested to determine with some accuracy the breed of Diesel’s parents. I scoffed at the idea, thinking that getting a dog DNA tested was preposterous.

Billy and Lara, though, decided they wanted to know more about Diesel. They researched doggie DNA testing and bought a kit from the most reliable company, Wisdom Panel Insights, which tests for 170 breeds.

The procedure itself simply entails taking a sample of cheek cells using a special swab and sending it to the company. It could not have been easier, particularly since I had done this hundreds of times on humans involved in studies I have worked on.

Then we waited.

Finally, the results are in. Evidently, none of us are very good at determining dog breeds, because all of us were wrong.

Diesel is a flat-haired Labrador and an Australian Cattle dog.

When I read about these two breeds, they fit Diesel’s personality uncannily well. He is extremely curious, intelligent, playful, lovable, food motivated (he will do anything for a treat), agile, a Frisbee junkie, apprehensive around strangers (he has a little barking habit around newcomers), and a herder. He has also become quite a good running companion.

His size and markings also fit well with these breeds, and his ears particularly reflect his heritage.He still has one ear that sticks up (the Australian Cattle dog) and one ear that flops over (the Retriever).

I told Diesel about his family tree and showed him pictures of what his parents might have looked like. All he did was tilt his head in an “I don’t care” manner and grab the Frisbee hoping for a rousing game of fetch.

Women's Clinics at Flatiron Athletic Club

2011-01-17T08:07:00.001-07:00

Attention all you ladies out there. Starting in two weeks I will be leading a series of clinics with my good friend Krista Schultz. Krista recently moved here from Baltimore. She has a background in exercise physiology and runs the She Does Tri camps.

We aim to bring our collective knowledge to women of all ages and abilities; do not be deterred if you are a novice or more advanced. Our series of clinics will cover strength training, swimming, biking and running. Each clinic will last 90 minutes and will be broken into two parts. First, there will be a 30 minute talk to cover topics of interest. Then, we will put you through a workout to work on form and to get an idea of how to execute some of the things covered in the talk.

Snow 101

2011-01-06T08:03:00.000-07:00

The Flatirons really are beautiful after it snows

There is no denying that freshly fallen snow is stunning. The pristine white blanket turns any city into a postcard. After five minutes, this illusion is spoiled, though, as the snow mutates into something awful.

These heinous snow variants, the underbelly of winter, include dirty snow, yellow snow and slush.


Around the 'hood the curbs are laden with dirty snow

Dirty snow. All it takes is a one day of rush hour traffic to mar the virginal look of newly fallen snow. The sides of the road become strewn with snow that morphs from white to brown to black. In Boulder, the snow generally melts rapidly due to the dry, sunny climate, so the preponderance and duration of dirty snow is short. On the East Coast however, dirty snow sticks around for so long it becomes a permanent fixture on the landscape.

Yellow snow. Frank Zappa said it best, “Watch out where the huskies go, and don't you eat that yellow snow.” I think dogs must be perpetually dehydrated to have urine that is so yellow. Our backyard, after the most recent snowfall, looks like a toxic waste site. There is a yellowish snow mound at the park near the house that dogs congregate around sniffing out their friends and foes.

Slush. I went to the supermarket a few days after a recent snow. It was sunny and the temperature had warmed enough to start a massive melting operation. The parking lot was a mess, with slush and ice covering its entirety. I did a lap around the lot in my car looking for an ideal parking spot with a clear path to the entrance. I couldn’t find one. So I went home.

One other consequence of snow I would like to mention is the huge snow pile that eventuates from plowing after a blizzard. These piles are often so high they do not melt until the spring, often taking up precious parking spaces. And, because these piles last so long, they inevitably turn into, you guessed it, dirty snow.

I always try to balance out my negative whimsy with something positive. In this case, I am going to relay a story from my first winter in Baltimore. A huge blizzard dumped over two feet of snow, incapacitating the city for days. After 24 hours at home, I decided to go for a run. The snow packed streets made running nearly impossible.

I turned onto a normally busy road, usually unfit for running, but now rendered un-drivable and therefore empty. A lone snow plow slowly made its way along the road, clearing a path. I seized the opportunity and tucked in behind the plow and continued my run unencumbered by cars and the waist deep snow. It was one of the most serene and memorable runs I have ever had.

2010: The good, the bad and the ugly

2010-12-29T08:11:00.003-07:00

I am gallantly stealing this blog title from a movie starring Clint Eastwood (I am now going to have to watch the movie). As a year closes, I always like to look back and reflect on how things played out, both positive and negative, to hopefully learn how to make things better for the following year. Even though we cannot control everything that occurs, lessons can always be learned.

Here is how the year played out.

THE UGLY

1. I started 4 triathlons and 2 running races. One of the triathlons resulted in a whopping personal worst (read about it here).
2. Triathlon notoriously beats up the body. We hear all about sore muscles, crotchitis from the bike, and unparalleled fatigue. Here is my ugly secret. My feet are ravaged. They are dry and cracked and I currently have 9 toenails, one of which is about to fall off.

THE BAD

1.   I started 4 triathlons and 2 running races. I DNF’ed two of the triathlon due to injury. I miscalculated my health and set myself back physically and mentally by racing too soon.
2.   Many of my blog posts this year focused on my injuries from the fateful 2009 Clearwater bike wreck. Too much time and energy was spent on figuring out what was wrong and how to fix it. I am ready to put the past behind me and move on to better things. I am slowly healing and I look toward next year as a new beginning.
3.   I had grouchy tendencies. There were definitely times when Mark was ready to lock me in the basement. Luckily, he is very forgiving!

THE GOOD

1.   I started 4 triathlons and 2 running races. I won one triathlon (thus, keeping alive my streak of winning a race every year since 1997) and one running race, both at the tender age of 40.
2.   I turned 40. I viewed turning 40 with trepidation. But, once the day arrived, it was really not a big deal. I am looking forward to the next chapters of my life.
3.   Mark and I adopted a puppy. Diesel has been an excellent companion. He hikes, chases the Frisbee, naps like a champ and is just now starting to run. Apart from his flatulence, which I can do without, he has been a lot of fun.
4.   The athletes I coach had very successful seasons and achieved most of the goals they set out for themselves. Answering the phone and talking with an athlete after they had a great race is exhilarating.
5.   My work at CU continues to be exciting and innovative. I won’t bore you with details, but suffice it to say, that I love what I do at CU and am thankful they still keep me around.

A FINAL NOTE

I am not huge on making New Year's resolutions. They are usually unattainable, and we should always strive for improvement anyway.

However, I do have one goal/resolution that follows me from year to year. I try to laugh on a daily basis. It may seem banal, but most situations are easier to handle with a smile. Humor is my favorite antidote to life's predicaments; how angry can one be if they are falling over from laughter?

Happy New Year!

The six-pack

2010-12-17T07:03:00.004-07:00

I used to aspire to having six-pack abs. I did crunches until my abs ached. I cut out sugar. I researched the topic as if I was going to write a book. I never did stoop so low as to buying a gadget off an infomercial, but I did think about for just a second.

People who knew of my quest told me it was genetic. This certainly made this effort more futile given that even though my family carries the stubborn gene, the athletic gene and the shopping gene, it does not carry the 6-pack gene.

Eventually I gave up.

And then I got the stomach flu last Sunday.

I must first, explain, though, the moniker “stomach flu” is actually a misnomer. The stomach flu is indeed a virus, but it is not related to the typical influenza virus and cannot be prevented with the flu shot.

My symptoms snuck up on me, oh so cleverly, during a long run. Imagine being out in the middle of a field, 60 minutes from home, and the floodgates open. It was worse than an Ironman GI disaster.

I somehow hobbled home, bonked and disheveled. I even jumped in the car when I saw Mark, who was on his way home from a hike with Diesel. They were 10 feet from the house.

I was chained to the house for the next several days, needing the security of the bathroom and too weak to do anything anyway. A liquid diet was implemented, but even this was too much for my ailing stomach.

By day 4, I had reaped the benefits of not eating and having round the clock GI distress. If I looked really close into the mirror and squinted a little, I could see the inklings of a very enviable, solid 2-pack. Certainly, I felt terrible, my energy was low, and I could not work out, but, at least I had something.

So, for all of you looking for that elusive washer board stomach, come on over and I will help you achieve it by generously passing along this stomach bug.

What should age groupers expect from pros?

2010-12-14T07:35:00.003-07:00

I was asked by Nick Rose, via Twitter, to weigh in on a discussion about what age groupers should expect from pros as fans.

This is a very heady topic. Truly, the role of professional triathletes is nebulous. We, of course, are expected to perform at races, but beyond that, what is the role of the professional triathlete?

I have been racing professionally since 1998. In that time, I have seen an evolution of the sport.

In a global sense, triathlon has reached the world stage with inclusion in the Olympics, more races worldwide and increased numbers of participants. I believe that the professionals have helped raise this level of awareness.

Mainstream sports, such as football, tennis and golf, are often televised or watched in person. Who is followed? It is the professionals. Watching the same athletes week after week competing against the best their sport has to offer garners a following.

Triathlon is no different. Yes, our sport is not televised as frequently as other sports, but, online live coverage of events has bloomed allowing for the same type of audience enjoyed by other sports. It is the professionals that are covered the most and it is their job to "entertain" those who are watching.

Since professional triathletes are often the individuals at the forefront of the sport, it is their obligation to act in a manner that portrays the sport in the most positive light. This will help increase viewership, sponsors and help move triathlon into the mainstream (although I am not sure what to make of the depiction of triathlon on a recent episode of Hawaii Five-0).

On a micro level, professionals need to perform well at races. It is their livelihood. It is from race performance that pro’s earn wages, gain sponsors, and expand their fan base.

There are numerous ways that pros can connect with fans: social media, appearances (i.e. Q and A sessions) and of course, races. Most of the pros I have met over the years are incredibly nice, approachable and eager to impart their knowledge. Emails are usually answered. Autographs are given generously. Photographs are smiled for. Facebook and Twitter statuses are updated with training tips and other vignettes. Blogs offer race reports.

But, there is a time and place that is appropriate for approaching a pro. Most races have a pro panel or Q and A as part of the race. Make an effort to attend one of these events. Tri shops or tri clubs often have a pro as a guest speaker. This is another suitable time to have your questions answered. Right before a race may not be the best time to ask for a picture or to find out what to eat race morning. Pros have to balance their public persona with their personal goals, a task that is not always easy to achieve.

I have always tried to answer every email that comes to me. Sometimes, though, one slips through the cracks. Many years ago, I was riding with a group of pro women along the St. Anthony’s triathlon course while the age groupers were racing (we had raced the day before). I was shocked to hear one of the competitors shout out, “Joanna Zeiger? I emailed you and you never answered.” Even the most diligent are apt to have an off day.

How to stay busy in the off season

2010-12-12T20:30:00.002-07:00

The off-season is finally upon us. Although, is there really an off-season anymore? With big races on the calendar all 12 months, it is tempting to eschew time off to maintain that hard fought fitness and prolong racing.

Having lived in areas with winter for my entire triathlon career, there has always been a natural stopping point to the season. During this time, I like to focus my attention on things that get ignored during the season.

1. Focus on your weaknesses

Let’s be honest, we all tend to spend the most time on the things we are good at and avoid the ones that need work (for example, I dislike bowling because I cannot manage to keep the ball out of the gutter. However, since this is not an activity that will make me better at triathlon, I will continue to not work on it).

In all seriousness, the off-season is the perfect opportunity to embrace your weaknesses and make them strengths. This is an excellent time to have your swim stroke videotaped, get a bike fit and/or have a running gait analysis. The information from these ventures will surely help you improve in the respective sport if put to good use.

Flaws that are detected from the analysis of an expert will allow you to find appropriate drills and incorporate them into your workouts to help you remedy the situation. The off season is the perfect time to slow things down in your training in order to practice proper technique with the hope that eventually you will be faster more economically.

2. Hit the gym

Triathletes notoriously find excuses to avoid the gym. Gym workouts are important year-round, and particularly in the off-season, for three reasons.

First, muscle imbalances are a common problem in triathletes. Often, one leg is stronger than the other. Or, the quads are overdeveloped resulting in over-use of this muscle. Triathletes also generally have weak glutes, hamstrings and very tight hip flexors. These problems can lead to loss of power and/or injury.

Take the time to have an evaluation by a trainer or physical therapist to determine your strengths and weaknesses and then tailor your workouts to amend the problem areas.

Yoga or a good stretching routine will aid in lengthening and loosening the tight and shortened muscles from biking and running.

The second reason triathletes belong in the gym is to counterbalance the constant forward motion. It is an excellent time to practice lateral and rotational movements (I must insert a shameless plug for my DVD, Functional Strength Training for Endurance Athletes. The group of exercises that Chuck Wolf has helped put together is phenomenal).

Finally, triathlon is not an explosive sport. Much of the time, we chug along, causing a loss of pure power. The off-season is the time to work on explosiveness with plyometics and heavy lifting moves (i.e. deadlifts and squats). The dividend will be better climbing ability and more resiliency.

Of course, any time you start a new program, make sure you consult with an expert to ensure that you are doing the moves properly. You certainly do not want to end up with a gym related injury.

3. Enjoy other sports

The off-season is the perfect time to engage in other sports. Winter sports are bountiful, and surely there is one to suit your needs. There are the obvious choices, skiing and snowboarding.

If you are like me, and you cannot bear the cold that comes with those sports, there is snow shoeing and cross country skiing. Snow shoeing is my preferred sport – there is no learning curve; if you can walk, you can snow shoe! And, if I do happen to fall, I am close to the ground and the surface is plush snow.

Or, you can just build a snowman.

Not from an area with winter activities? No worries. Mountain biking and trail running are perfect ways to keep busy.

Or, if the season burned you out, catch up on the TV shows on your DVR/Tivo or watch all of the Oscar contender films.

Temecula Turkey Trot

2010-12-01T17:30:00.004-07:00

Turkey trots are contested in cities and towns all over the country Thanksgiving weekend. For some reason, people imagine that running a 5k or 10k negates the overindulgence of the Thanksgiving meal; that running in a race somehow wipes the calorie slate clean and the meal is a free for all.

This year, I travelled on Thanksgiving Day. Since most of the turkey trots are run Thanksgiving morning, I was unable to participate in the usual races. With some internet sleuthing, I happened upon a 10K race held on the Saturday after Thanksgiving in Temecula, CA at the Cougar Winery.

Temecula,a burgeoning city north east of San Diego, is most famous for its wineries. I had been to Temecula a few times previously and thought it was a perfect place for a running race. Rolling hills, lovely scenery and flowing alcohol, what more could one want?

I did my due diligence and perused the course map and elevation profile. It was clearly designed by someone with a sordid sense of humor; the out and back layout was mostly downhill for the first half rendering the second half an uphill grind with a nasty upgrade to the finish line.

Somehow, this elevation chart does not nearly capture the hill up to the finish.

See those trees and building in the distance? That is the finish line.

One of the things I enjoy most about running races is the relative ease in execution compared to a triathlon. You show up in the morning, pick up your race packet, pin your number to your shirt or race belt, warm up and then it is go time. All I had with me was a small bag to place my extra clothes.

Of course, some things are universal to every race; the porta potty line is an unavoidable inconvenience to any pre-race preparation.

A unique aspect to this race was the ability to register your dog as a participant. For an extra five dollars (all proceeds from this race went to charity), your dog not only received the right to run, but also a bib number and a timing chip. I saw dogs of all breeds and sizes (the largest being a 165 pound Great Dane) donning t-shirts and sweaters with numbers fastened to them.There was even an award for the fastest dog.


Jenna with her canine companion

Another cutie who did the race

The race itself was a blast. I had never run a 10K that was not preceded by a swim and bike. My normal race tactic is to negative split; the course did not allow for this method. I did try to pace myself on the first half to make sure I did not fall apart over the last few miles.

Fortunately, I had a rabbit in front of me. One of the guys who had started off fast came back to me and by mile 4 I caught him. We jockeyed back and forth over the next few miles. I made a decisive move just before the 6 mile marker in an effort to break him before the final hill. Even though I gapped him, he caught me right before the finish line. My time of 36:37 was much faster than I had expected.

The real fun began after the race. As part of the entry fee we received tickets for wine tasting. So, at 9:30 in the morning, my parents and I joined hundreds of other people in the tasting room for our turn at the bar. It was 5:00 somewhere!

My mom, having some fun

Competitors enjoying the post-race festivities

Waiting around for the awards is always a drag. At least it gave me time to play my favorite game “Find the triathlete in the crowd”. Here were two that I spotted.

All in all, a fun day at the races.

Home for the Holidays

2010-11-26T16:19:00.003-07:00

Every family is a veritable cast of zany characters. My family is no different; in fact, I am the most normal person in my family. This year, we gathered at my parent’s house in San Diego to celebrate Thanksgiving. The actors in this play were: my parents, my maternal grandparents, my sister and her family (and their hyper puppy Sophia), and my uncle from China (no, he is not Chinese, he just lives there). Mark was unfortunately absent, as he went East to be with his family.

Act 1: The Bird
I carved the turkey this year. What fun. I love wielding the electric knife and I sneak the best pieces to those helping out in the kitchen.

The entire process this year had an added element. My 11 year old nephew, Max, insisted that he help out. He kept pushing his way in, trying to disarm me. I explained to him that nobody in the house felt like spending the evening in the emergency room watching him have a finger sewn back on.

His retort was that grandpa told him it was ok. What an enabler! My father has an unusually large soft spot for Max, which has not been lost on this very smart kid. He has been known to tell people that grandpa is his friend and will let him do whatever he wants.

Here is the incongruity. On the one hand, Max wants to handle a potentially dangerous utensil. On the other hand, he still asks me for an "airplane" (you know, when you lie on your back with your legs up and the child puts their stomach on your feet and flies), which I have been doing since he was 2.

Needless to say, I did not hand over the knife.

Act 2: The Vegetarian
Some background: My sister is a finicky eater. She is so fussy, in fact, that picky eaters tell her she is a picky eater.

When she showed up at my parents, I saw her slip a container of veggies in to the fridge. She commented that it was leftover lunch.

Dinner was set up buffet style in the kitchen. My mom presented us with a stupendous meal. There was, of course, the turkey. She also made stuffing, potatoes, the best cranberry sauce I have ever tasted, green beans, squash, apricot and banana bread. In accordance with my sister’s aversion to meat, my mom tried hard to make enough accompaniments to keep her satisfied.

We all piled our plates high with an assortment from the offerings. My sister, on the other hand, walked into the dining room with a plate filled with the veggies from the container, a conglomeration of peas, corn and lima beans and a few limp carrots for color. The veggies, fancily named succotash, had apparently been acquired at an up-scale LA deli, but they looked less appetizing than a can of Jolly Green Giant. I think the Giant would have cringed if he had witnessed the mess on that plate.

The lifeless veggies were cause for much laughter and ridicule.

The irony, which was not lost on my sister, was that my mother had expressly called us both last week to inquire whether she should make succotash. We both replied that under no circumstances would we eat succotash, especially when there was so much other food. Well, sis. You lose!

Act 3: Getting older
My grandparents are old. Eighty-seven and ninety. They are very independent and sharp as tacks. Their hearing has diminished, though, and time and gravity have taken their toll on their stature. My nephew asked my grandmother how much she has shrunk over the years (at her tallest she never stood five feet) and told the endocrinologist, who he recently saw to discuss his own height issues, that his shortness was his great-grandmother’s fault.

My father, never one to shy away from a provocative discussion had not one, but two doozies at dinner.

My grandmother is extremely fashionable. I have never seen her wear shoes that did not have at least a two inch heal. Usually, they are even higher. The first contentious conversation was about the shoes. My father insisted that my grandmother wear more sensible shoes because falls in the elderly are so common.

The discussion was heated and I of course added in my two cents. I revealed that Nick Cannon bought his stiletto wearing and pregnant wife, Mariah Carey, 20 pairs of flats.

As if that no-win battle wasn’t enough, my father then went on a tirade about elderly drivers. Both of my grandparents still drive and my grandfather even just had his driver’s license renewed.

My father reasoned that the reaction time of most individuals over 80 is quite slow and that there is not proper testing of the elderly to determine if they are fit to drive. All salient arguments, but lost on my grandfather who steadfastly believes he is a very capable driver.

It was suggested by someone that reaction time should be judged by performance at Whack-a-mole. But, let’s be real. Most of us would fail miserably at that task.

The final act: Leaving
My sister, brother-in-law, niece and nephew bolted at 8 to drive back to LA. The kids had an early swim practice the next morning, although neither of them was excited about it. Would you want to swim 3 hours?

Do you have any stories to share from Thanksgiving?

Dr. PainBeGone

2010-11-11T07:17:00.000-07:00

In the past year I have seen five surgeons, two sports medicine doctors and one physical medicine doctor. Nothing prepared me for Dr. PainBeGone. The thoracic surgeon insisted I visit the pain clinic for a nerve block, a procedure in which a local anesthetic is injected into the nerve to relieve pain, to better determine the source of my pain. He set up an appointment with Dr. PainBeGone, a pain specialist.

Sitting in the waiting room at the pain clinic, I felt oddly out of place. Surely I did not belong there. I thought of the events that brought me to this particular place and realized that, yes, I am a chronic pain sufferer.

This was an interesting revelation. Triathletes are used to pain. We embrace pain. We encounter pain on a regular basis in our workouts and races. We constantly push ourselves to the next level, and let’s face it, going hard generally comes with a fair share of discomfort. Injuries that are incurred cause pain. But, here is the difference between training pain and the pain I have had from this injury. One is controllable while the other is not.

During training, when your body aches and your lungs feel like they might burst, you always know that if you back off you will feel better. You always know that when the interval is over there will be a respite before the next one begins. You always know that when you are injured, if you stop training the ache goes away. In the instance of my ribs, the ache is always there. Backing off, stopping, and resting do not help. And that has been the problem. The lack of control has left me with a feeling of helplessness.

But, I digress.

I was escorted to the exam room. There were two chairs side by side and a chair at the desk. I sat in the chair next to the desk. Dr. PainBeGone’s associate came in for an initial fact finding mission; he sat at the desk and took fastidious notes. When he left, he promised that Dr. PBG would be there shortly.

Finally, Dr. PBG burst into the room. He was the antithesis of any other doctor I had ever seen. He had perfectly coiffed dark hair that would make Patrick Dempsey jealous (it looked like he used an entire bottle of gel and he must have a wind machine stashed in his office). His outfit, black pants, a white button down shirt opened at the collar and a matching black jacket, made him look like he was going straight to the disco after work. His laid back demeanor said, “Hey, let’s be friends.” His first words were, “Do you mind if I sit next you?” He then proceeded to move the jacket, purse and water bottle I had strewn onto the chair. When he sat down, he slouched like an indignant teenager. I liked him instantly.

When I recovered from my initial shock we had some benign banter. Before I left, I said to him that I was probably the healthiest patient he had ever seen. He wholeheartedly agreed. On the surface, I look perfectly normal. It is a perplexing dichotomy: on the one hand I am quite fit from running, but on the other I am still very injured. And, for all intents and purposes I look fine, except for the occasional day when things are really bad and as one of my co-workers astutely pointed out, “I can see the pain in your eyes.”

The nerve block itself is no simple thing. It is performed under IV sedation with X-ray guidance. At the very least, it should give me some relief, though. I’ll post an update after the procedure.

Random Observations

2010-11-08T19:16:00.000-07:00

More Doctor Visits
It has been an interesting few weeks, as I continue on my quest to solve the mystery that is my rib injury. I travelled to Colorado Springs to visit the US Olympic Training Center to meet with Dr. Moreau, the medical director. He was incredibly attentive and took the most detailed history I have ever encountered. I spent three hours with him. His compassion to my plight was reassuring; he understood my frustration and how much the pain was affecting not only my competitive life, but my daily life. I left there with the knowledge that surgery to fix some damaged cartilage and a hyper mobile rib was imminent (the latest theory is that I have slipping rib syndrome, you can read about it here).

Locating a surgeon familiar with this particular injury and the experience to fix it has been troublesome. The syndrome is rare and often misdiagnosed. I had the pleasure of speaking to a recently retired surgeon who has seen many cases. One particular patient he helped had their gallbladder removed before they received the proper diagnosis!

Observation 1: It is all about perspective
I saw a thoracic surgeon a week after my visit to the Training Center. The encounters could not have been more different. There was such a stark contrast between their perspectives. The doctor that sees athletes on a regular basis fully understood how this injury has been life altering. The doctor that sees cancer patients on a regular basis inquired how the pain would be if I just sat at a desk all day (I informed him that was not an option and secondly, sitting is the worst thing for my injury in terms of pain).

Run, Forrest, Run
After Lake Stevens 70.3 I took several weeks off of training completely. I started back slowly, with short, easy workouts. I was riding once or twice a week. Each ride was terrible. No matter how easy I went, it was painful. The medical people I consulted with encouraged me to keep riding to maintain muscle tone. After a particularly bad ride, I decided to put riding on hold and run more.

Observation 2: Running is much easier when you don’t ride
Once I came to terms with not riding, I decided to ramp up my running in anticipation of doing some races. Back in 2000, when I was training for the marathon Olympic trials, I topped out at 100 miles per week for a few weeks. But, I was still riding, so much of it was garbage miles with only 2-3 specific interval workouts each week. Now, with the luxury of fresher legs, I decided to build my mileage and include more targeted intervals days. I increased the mileage and paces systematically and I am pleased to say that this week I ran 80 miles with several interval runs, two double runs, and a very pleasant long run. The weather has been magnificent making this running experiment even more fun.

Extra time
Even with the increased amount of running, swimming, gym workouts and occasional hikes, my weekly training totals are much lower than normal. Add in work time and coaching time, my days still seem much less hectic.

Observation 3: Riding takes up a lot of time and effort
I have never spent a significant amount of time off the bike. Even after my shoulder surgery last year, I was able to ride on the trainer fairly quickly. I cannot believe the hours that have been freed up since I am not riding my bike. For example, yesterday I swam at 7 and ran an interval workout after. I was done by 10:15 and was not planning on running again until 4. Normally I would spend a huge chunk of the day on my bike. Instead, much to the amusement of some friends, I went to Target to get some household items. I returned home and did some work, took a nap and played with the puppy. Also, because I am not riding, there is less laundry, no bike maintenance, fewer water bottles to clean, and no aggravation from lousy drivers or Klingons.

The Treadmill
My disdain for the treadmill dates back to my time in Chicago when the icy roads often relegated me to indoor running (if I am being totally honest, it probably really stems back to the time I fell off the treadmill near the end of a 20 mile run). The fire in Boulder in September created air quality that made my lungs cringe. My choice: treadmill or no running. Given that I had already nixed the bike, the treadmill was the answer.

Observation 4: You can get used to almost anything
After weeks on the treadmill, I somehow got used to it. Even now, with clearer air, I choose to do my intervals on the treadmill. It makes running outside feel much easier!

How to Run a Race

2010-10-19T09:24:00.002-06:00

Even though the triathlon season is still going strong, many triathletes are long done. Bikes have been retired and swim suits are molding. It is the time of year to run. The running season is in full swing with marathons and half marathons in cities across the country.

Participating in running races is extremely beneficial for a triathlete in the throes of their off season. Many triathletes view running as their weak link. Training for a run specific race is a golden opportunity for improvement without the worry of sacrificing bike training. This is the time to work on your run form as well as increase volume, intensity and frequency of runs. This should be accomplished in a systematic manner to avoid injury (that is where a good coach can be useful).

When it comes time for race day, a plan is very important. It is very easy to ignore some obvious things because, well, it is just a running a race. That cavalier attitude can get you into trouble, though. You should approach a running race with the same precision that you execute a triathlon.

Do not ignore your race day nutrition.

My friend ran the Denver marathon as a training run for a marathon a month later (let’s ignore that this is generally not a great idea). The day before the race I asked about his nutritional plan. He had none. He was going to skip breakfast and had no gels and no salt tablets for the race. I tried to educate him about proper race day nutrition and gave him some supplies. Since he had not trained with any of these things, he became nauseous during the latter part of the run and causing bonking and cramping. A good lesson learned before the next marathon.

Marathon and to a lesser extent, half marathon, nutrition is extremely important. Since you will be running at a pace faster than your triathlon pace, your stomach will react differently than during a triathlon. It is important to determine your caloric, liquid and electrolyte needs and practice them during your training runs. Even though you will be out there for less time than a half of full Ironman, nutritional disasters still loom.

Believe me, I have stood in line at a porta-potty during a marathon (do you get to take the wait time off your final time?) and have frantically searched for the bathroom upon completion of a half marathon.

Determine your pace.

I had two athletes run half marathons over the weekend. Before the race we discussed their goal times. Both asked what I thought they could run. I countered by asking them what they thought they could run. I wanted to know if they had a realistic perception of what they could do (they did). Once we determined the mile pace, we formulated a game plan (more on that in the section below).

Undoubtedly, when you start to train for a running a race, you set a goal in your mind and tailored your training to achieve this time. Perhaps you are aiming for a PR. Maybe it is based on times from a triathlon.
In any case, your training should indicate whether this time is achievable. Did your training cohere with this objective? Were you able to execute your intervals and long runs? Is your body healthy? Training does not lie and is the single best indicator of race performance.

Set an unrealistic goal time and be prepared for a very tough race. Dropping 45 minutes off a marathon time is probably not reasonable. Starting off at this much faster pace will inevitably result in a painful last few miles.

Proper race execution: Negative split or even split whenever possible.

Your preparation is naught if you do not execute the race well. Running races are tricky for triathletes. We are not used to feeling so good. Remove the swim and bike and suddenly the legs are very fresh leading to overzealous running at the start of the race with a certain amount of fade as the miles progress. This problem is so universal a website calculates your pace for a projected finish time with the option of adjusting for this fade!

Take a lesson from elite runners. If you look at the splits from top marathoners and half marathoners, they even split or negative split their races. Check out these splits from Haile Gebrselassie’s world record in the marathon. Notice that he negative split the race and his last 5K was his fastest.

Courtesy of http://www.sportsscientists.com/

Yes, I realize these times are ridiculously fast and incomprehensible to us mere mortals. But, the idea is applicable to everyone. Running a race with even or negative splits is physically and psychologically easier. Who wants to stand at the start line hoping that today they don’t blow up and have to shuffle to the finish?

Hopefully you will now feel inspired to run. If nothing else, the logistics of a running race make the whole thing lucrative. No transitions. No bike gear. No wetsuit. What’s not to like?

Scary Showers

2010-10-14T09:44:00.001-06:00

Yesterday I took a shower after my morning run. This, of course, was not unusual because I shower on a regular basis. The atypical part was that I was home. As I stood under the water, I realized I had not showered at home in weeks; I take all of my showers at the gym. This train of thought led me to reminisce about some of the places I have showered over the years.

My current gym has 7 individual showers. Generally, after a masters swim, there is a wait. Unless you languish in the hot tub, as I do, until they clear out. In the winter, there is often a dearth of hot water. The shower area is fairly clean; just avoid looking too closely at the drains. Yuck.I will spare you kind readers the often hilarious yet inappropriate stories that have been passed around about the men's locker room and shower area.

The biggest perk at my gym is the towel service. So what if the towels barely wrap around your body and they feel like sandpaper? Somebody else is washing them.

The gym I frequented in Baltimore boasted some of the worst showers on the planet. It was a shower area with 6 shower heads. None of them had proper water pressure. There was either a trickle that could not get the shampoo out of your hair or a blast that could put a hole in your head. It was like that Seinfeld episode with the low flow showers causing really flat hair forcing Kramer to install the Commando 450 shower head that was for circus elephants.

The true problem was the floor. It was a daily conversation piece among the women there, the complaints never ended. The tiles were slimy, hair was strewn about, and suspicious black spots covered the walls. It was a veritable host for microbes.

One of the members, a biologist, decided to take samples of the floor back to her lab for analysis to determine what was living there. I tried to stop her to no avail, because I believe that ignorance is bliss. She returned a few days later with a print out of the results. It was filled scary organisms that I cannot pronounce nor spell. Lotrimin would be no match for whatever foot funk someone would acquire. The only solution would be sand blasting the floor and starting over (under new ownership the gym has remedied many of these issues).

As a swimmer, I have showered in dubious places all over the world. There is truly nothing grosser than a shower area during a swim meet. In order to get warm between events, we stood around in the shower, thus they were in use the entire day (a hot tub would have solved a lot of problems and saved a ton of water).

The shower areas were quite untidy. In fact, the locker rooms were a mess. There was never a dry spot on the floor, so you would have to stand perilously on the benches to get dressed. Toilet paper would be strewn everywhere,(inevitably, someone would walk out with a long piece stuck to the bottom of their shoe). And, there were always those annoying showers that turn off automatically after 30 seconds, so you have to keep pushing the button. It really does not save water. You just push the button 20 times.

Having gone to several swim meets recently to watch my niece and nephew compete, I can confirm that the situation has not changed at all. Last year, I went for a run before their meet and needed to shower after. I walked into the locker room and surveyed the scene, appalled by what I saw. It was repulsive. I had no flip flops to protect my tender feet against the organisms calling this place home. I weighed my options and decided no shower was probably cleaner than taking a shower. Just like the olden days, I perched myself on a bench to get dressed.

As I idled in my shower at home, I appreciated the perfect water pressure, the fact that I did not have to wait my turn and my shoeless feet. Too bad I don’t have a towel service here. Oh wait, I do. It’s me.

EspnW Retreat: The Goodie Bag

2010-10-01T07:52:00.002-06:00

I knew when I checked in to The Lodge at Torrey Pines for the EspnW retreat it was going to be a very special weekend. The new logo was emblazoned everywhere in the hotel, including the hotel key and the bathroom mirror.

The hotel key card

I was handed my weekend packet and a goodie bag.We are all familiar with the triathlon goodie bag, it is a staple of race day registration. The typical triathlon goodie bag used to come in a plastic bag and has been upgraded over the years to a nylon sac provided by various sponsors. I usually open the triathlon goodie bag near a trash can so I can throw away most of what is in there. The goodie bag this weekend was presented in a canvas tote bag with a yoga mat on top. I was instantly intrigued. I did not open it near a trash can.

Upon arrival to my room (which is lovely, by the way), I eagerly dumped out the contents on the floor to take stock.

The first item, of course, is the yoga mat. I am not a yoga aficionado, but I certainly have many uses for a yoga mat. Namely, I use them under my bike trainer to catch the sweat and other miscellaneous mess (drinks, gels) that occur during indoor ride sessions. This was certainly a keeper.

Instead of the Gatorade water bottles that find their way into triathlon goodie bags, the EspnW bag had two special water bottles. One is stainless steel and the other I cannot figure out (the white one in the photo). It comes with instructions, which I am sure I will eventually read.

Billie Jean King is pioneer in women’s sports, and fought hard for equal pay for women in tennis. She figures prominently this weekend. Her book was included, and I look forward to reading it. The other book, by Lucy Danziger, sounds interesting and I will also put it on my reading list.

On the website, the schedule of events listed a concert for Friday night. No artist was mentioned. When I saw the Jewel CD in the bag, I knew that she would be playing. How cool!

Most triathlon goodie bags have sunscreen or anti-chafe cream, both of which I usually toss or give to somebody else. This bag included items from Mission: foot cream, lip balm, body lotion and face cream. Yes, I can use all of these (especially the foot cream. The dry Colorado weather has made my feet quite a problem) and I will bring then home to see if they can make improvements to my dry skin.

WTC events include The Road to Kona/Clearwater magazine. Other events have their local publication. This weekend we were provided with ESPN (of course), Self and ESPN Rise. A very refreshing change.

Finally, the pinnacle of any race bag is the race shirt. An ugly race shirt sends triathletes into a frenzy. If the shirt is not made of technical material then angry triathletes revolt. The clothing in the EspnW bag were provided by UnderArmour and Champion. A cute pair of shorts, capris and a shirt (made of technical material). I am not sure why they gave me an XL shirt though. A gift for Mark.

The final item in the bag is Tic Tacs. They are pink.

Update: I returned to my room after the morning activities and found a Nike bag filled with more goodies. The best, an iPod touch.

More to come as the weekend unfolds.

Keeping Busy

2010-09-27T10:05:00.000-06:00

It has been an interestingly busy few weeks. In some ways, I have felt scattered, with my attention focused on myriad projects. Time usually spent training has now been filled with making dormant ideas come to fruition.

For the first time in decades, I have no set training schedule. It has been impossible to predict from day to day how I will feel and what I will be able to accomplish training-wise. I wake up with some idea of what I would like to do, and then if my body is feeling capable, I try. Some days, I succeed in completing a workout and others I have to stop early due to lingering discomfort (it appears that there is still some significant scar tissue and resulting compression between some ribs).

Cycling has been the most difficult and the sport I have done the least in the past 6 weeks. I took several weeks off completely. I am up to 2-3 days of easy riding. My PowerTap constantly reminds me of how this injury has affected my strength on the bike; it seems I have none. And the position of riding causes soreness, so my rides are short, just enough to enjoy the outdoors and keep my legs moving and my backside used to sitting on a saddle.

I have been hiking regularly, exploring my surroundings and appreciating the beauty that is so close to home. Hiking requires a whole new set of muscles. My legs have been furiously sore after some of the longer, hillier jaunts. The higher altitude has had me panting and bent over gasping for air. The panoramas have been exquisite. I am amazed at the diversity in terrain and scenery in Colorado. Even Diesel has perched himself on rocks to take it all in.

The hard part has been fielding variations of this question, “What is your next race?” Or, as people quietly leave town for Kona, “Are you racing Kona this year?” Alternatively, there is, “How is your training coming along.” When I respond that I am still injured from a crash 10 months ago and done racing for the year, I can see the disbelief in their eyes.

How is that possible, they wonder? I, too, question, how this has come to pass. Of course, there are no clear answers, only bouts of frustration. In all of my years in the sport of triathlon, I have never had a more disappointing season. Of the four races I started, I DNFed two, won one (at least I have kept my streak of winning a race every season alive) and hobbled through the last. As they say in baseball, there is always next year. And believe me, I plan on attacking next year with a vengeance.

On a more positive front (a friend told me I have been too negative lately), I have some new endeavors for next year. I am working with some friends on a potential summer training camp and some clinics. As the details become finalized I will share more.

This coming weekend I am attending a retreat at Torrey Pines resort in San Diego sponsored by espnW. The focus is the role of women in sports. The list of attendees is diverse and the schedule of events interesting. We were able to sign up for various activities. It should be no surprise that I chose boot camp and sea kayaking! I did pass on the golf outing on Saturday. My only golfing experience is when my father used to take me to the driving range 30 years ago. I think a long run on the beach is more suited to my talents. I will post an update next week.

An Olympic Memory: 10 Years Later

2010-09-14T14:26:00.004-06:00

It is hard to believe that a decade has passed. On September 16, 2000, triathlon made its Olympic debut in Sydney, Australia. The spectacular backdrop of the Sydney Opera House and the sport-crazy Aussies lining the streets made this an event to remember.

My road to the Olympics was not typical. I spent my youth swimming. But, unlike many of my contemporaries, I had no aspirations of competing in the Olympics. Even at a young age, I knew my capabilities; I was not Olympic swimming material. My goals were less lofty. I wanted to qualify for the Olympic trials, and in 1988 I achieved this goal in the 400 IM and 200 breast stroke.

Ten years after swimming in the Olympic trials I won my first race as a professional, the Chicago triathlon. I had dappled in some ITU draft-legal racing earlier in the year with varied success and much disdain (note: the ITU governs triathlon for the Olympics and athletes must accumulate points in their race series to be eligible to compete in the Olympics. Each country has its own system of picking athletes who have achieved enough points).

My outlook changed when I earned a spot to the 1999 World Championships in Montreal by virtue of finishing second in the Pan American qualifier a month earlier (I entered this race only because it was driving distance. Amazing how that one race changed everything). This meant, even though I had no points, I gained an automatic berth. I was the lowest ranked person in the entire field of 75 women. I placed 15th. The US coach at the time took me aside and said that he thought I had a chance of qualifying for the Olympics.

Until that moment, I never imagined something so far-fetched. My heart was still with long distance and the Hawaii Ironman was in 4 weeks. The Olympics were one year away, I was highly inexperienced at ITU racing and I was low on points. Most of the US women had spent the better part of the preceding years travelling the world racing for ITU points; I had spent this time studying statistics not the ITU athlete guide (I received a very comprehensive tutorial from the husband of an athlete on a flight home from a race).

The year 2000 rolled around. My first big race of the year was the marathon Olympic trials in February. I spent most of the winter running, getting ready for this event. The race meeting was nothing like a triathlon race meeting. It was like a gathering of anorexics anonymous. I was a Goliath amongst Lilliputians. I wanted to throw a steak in the middle of the room and watch the frenzy! But, I digress.

After this race, I competed in my first World Cup on the Big Island. I placed 3rd. The first Olympic selection race for the US was a World Cup race on the Olympic course in Sydney. Only 6 women from each country are allowed to compete in a World Cup; I was ranked 8th and therefore ineligible to compete. My only chance was to earn one of the two remaining spots at the Olympic trials race in Dallas in late May.

I am going to skip the politics of this race because it is exhausting to think about and will bore you to tears. Suffice it to say, after an abysmal bike ride in which my pack of 12 lost almost 4 minutes to the leaders ( a comment from a spectator says it all, “Congratulations ladies, you are now three and half minutes down), we all thought we were fighting for the alternate spot.

Coming into T2 at the trials.

I charged out of transition with anger and frustration at the pedestrian pace we had ridden. I ran like the ground was covered with hot coals. I ran with a mission. Then, suddenly I found myself in second place. The last spot would be mine. I crossed the line with incredible excitement and surprise. I was in disbelief for weeks after.

Sheila and I at the trials finish.

My teammates, Jennifer Gutierrez and Sheila Taormina, were fantastic. Of course, as an Ironman athlete, I put in lots of miles, even during a taper. Jen and Sheila would share rides with me. I would do half with Jen and then come back to pick up Sheila.

The night before the race. We had just received our uniform.

The USAT staff was quite worried that I would not be rested. Every day, Tim Yount would stick his head out his door when I left to ride and look at his watch. Somehow, he knew when I was returning, because he would poke his head out the door and once again look at his watch. I said to him every time, “Don’t worry. I will be fresh as a daisy on race day.”

And I was! The race was amazing with thousands of spectators lining the streets. It was hard to focus on the bike. I wanted to look around and take it all in. Midway through the bike, Jen rode up next to me and said “You are our best chance for a medal. Don’t do any work. Find Michellie (Jones) and stick with her. Do whatever she does.” And then, to make a point, she launched an attack off the front of the bike twice. Thanks, Jen. I still appreciate your sacrifice.

On to the run.We whittled down to 5. It became a tactical running race. I had never been in such a situation. We ran through transition together, at the 5K mark. The pace quickened. Our group strung out and I was in fourth. As I was running down the last stretch looking at 3rd, even though it was only 15 seconds, it seemed so far away. My position was sealed, I was 4th and the first American.

As I ran down the finish chute, someone handed me an American flag. I crossed the line proud. What a day.

Ten years later I still get a chill thinking about it. And, no, getting fourth is not the worst place to finish. The worst place to finish is the one where you do not even qualify.

Non-Traditional Race Tips

2010-09-10T10:07:00.001-06:00

JZ @ IM AZ '05. Flat #1 of 2. No valve extender. Eventually DNFed.

Every season, articles appear in the popular triathlon publications and online proffering a variety of tips related to having your best race ever. These articles offer up tips relating to the weather, nutrition, transition and the swim. How many times have you seen this title, “13 weeks to a sub 13 Ironman”? I have come up with a whole new set of items related to racing. It is not what you think. My tips are how to best DNF your next Ironman. I have DNFed a few Ironman races in my career and know many other athletes who have as well. I have amassed this list from my own arsenal and from the experiences of others I know.

Show up injured – Starting a race with a lingering injury is a sure-fire way to increase your odds of not finishing. The intensity of racing will most certainly flare up the injured body part, and depending on the length of the race, will make finishing unlikely. In fact, if you race injured you probably will not finish your next race as well.

Get a flat tire – Here are a few scenarios: A. You do not know how to change a flat (watch this video to find out how: How to Change a Flat Tire). B. You did not bring a spare (shame on you). C. You put way too much air in your tire and it exploded. D. You forgot a valve extender, CO2, tire lever.

Screw up your nutrition –Eat too much. Eat too little. The course drink made you sick. Drop your gel flask. Allow your salt tablets to melt into a gooey mess. Lose your drink bottle. Throw up. Have diarrhea.

Go out way too hard – You know the ramifications of going too hard at the start of the race are dire, but you can’t help yourself. The adrenaline is pumping. The taper freshened you up so it felt easy. The lure of Kona made you do it. Whatever the reason, you are reduced to sitting on the side of the road watching the race unfold trying to figure out how to get back to transition.

Neglect bike maintenance – Most race day mechanicals occur from malfunctions that could have been prevented by a simple trip to your bike mechanic. Common failures include snapped cables, broken derailleur’s and seat posts and poor shifting; some pre-race bike love probably could have picked up all of these issues. When you put your bike together when you arrive at your destination, make sure all of the bolts are tight!

Succumb to the elements (wilt in the heat; shiver in the cold) – Whenever you travel to a race you should have gear to accommodate the weather. It is not unusual for forecasters to make mistakes (are they right 50% of the time?). Sunny and warm can turn to rainy and miserable in a split second. Be prepared with arm warmers, a rain jacket and gloves. Cold water? A neoprene cap keeps you much warmer than a wetsuit alone. On a hot day, be sure to take plenty of electrolytes and douse yourself with cold water often.

Overestimate your abilities – Your Ironman PR is 11 hours and you are certain you can break 10. You swim and bike like a fiend chasing your goal. Then your race falls apart because of #4. Was that goal realistic? Be honest with yourself!

Get DQed – Yes, it happens. People do DNF because they were DQed. Argue with an official? You’re out. Caught drafting more than twice? Sayonara. Skip the penalty tent? Go home. Cut the course? Cheater!

Have a mishap on the course – So many things can happen on race day. Multi-bike pile ups. Encounters with cars. Physical contact on the swim. I even heard of an athlete crashing after a foul up grabbing a water bottle at an aid station (ironically, she was using a Camelbak).

Get lost – Many years ago I was at a race with a cross country run that was not well marked. The lead man could not find his way and was not seen the rest of the day. Perhaps he is still out there running.