Which wouldn't be a big deal if that was all I was doing...
The festival ended yesterday with this workout:
Bike 1:45: WU: 20' Easy MS: 3 x 15' (3') @ FT, 5' Easy, 6 x 1' (2') @ 120% CD: 5' Easy
Run :40: Z2 out, Z3 back
It was about 92 degrees or so (it was 90 in the shade at home) and very humid. I didn't get much sleep at all (5 hours?) the night before because, well, it's hard to sleep well right now.
I drank the better part of a can of Coke before I started, and had a 300-calorie bottle of my personal Infinit (also loaded with caffeine) to ride with. I felt a little creeped out since the day before there were 3 attempts on my life by drivers while out riding. What I learned from those experiences is this: cars have no idea how fast I (we) are going on our bikes. They think they can outrun you from a dead stop. Nope!
As I was doing the warmup, I could feel the hot sun on me. Because of the Coke or in spite of it, I didn't feel mentally tired, but I could tell my legs were not really recovered from the last 4 days of riding, but oh well. The objective is always to do the best you can given the conditions and your physical state.
As I drew near to my interval loop, I had a slight sense of dread, which is normal when I'm doing these types of rides. How will it feel? Can I do it? I know how it should feel--pretty fucking hard. Can I do it? Probably.
With the heat and the humidity and the effort level required, I found that I was mouth breathing like a fish! It's simply an extreme desire for as much oxygen as I can pump into the system. Last week when I was doing an interval ride, a guy rode up on me and asked if I was racing in August. There's a criterium close to home every year, and I guess he figured me for someone who races!
I ride my interval loop pretty much every Tuesday, and as a result, I have acquired a number of "fans." I go past a few small factories right around noon, and some of the workers are outside on the lawn smoking cigarettes or eating a sack lunch. As hard as I'm working, and as much as I'm mouth breathing and going pretty fast, I manage to smile quite a bit, and I happily wave to them as I ride by them numerous times. I think, "They are working, but so am I."
Tuesday is also garbage day for the homes within my loop, so I see the same guy driving the truck every week, and he waves and smiles at me when I pass as well. He also gives me berth when he sees me coming up to pass him. A few of the mail carriers recognize me, too, and they give me a thumbs up or a wave, but always with a smile, and I'm happy to smile back.
What my fans don't know is that what appears to be a smile on my face is a combination smile and teeth gritting when I'm in the midst of an interval. To the casual observer, you wouldn't be able to tell the difference. And sometimes I'm not sure myself, but I do know that photos captured of me racing on my bike that show a smile on my face are that precise look.
So I banged out the first :15 interval, and all I could think is that 3 minutes of rest is not going to be enough. But that's how it goes--I pedalled easy until I got to the one stop sign that I typically must obey and started the second interval from there. Which added maybe 9 seconds of rest. I don't obsess about that stuff.
As I began the second :15 interval, I thought, what the fuck, my legs are pretty tired. Oh well, keep going, keep doing the best you can, that's the point of all of this, I guess, to see what I've got after doing intervals Saturday and Sunday, and oh, wasn't it nice I made it more difficult by not sleeping? I still managed a pretty good effort, and during my next 3' rest, all I could think was, "Only one more to go!" That's always a good feeling.
During Number 3, I began thinking about the shit that followed after some more rest. I thought, "Now those will be fun." Number 3 came and went, I was happy for 5' rest, and I was happy for the next set of intervals. 120% of FTP basically means go balls out as hard as you can go you can hardly stand it. I've done that for 30 seconds, but it's a little more difficult to hold that for a minute. But I did, knowing that I had a luxurious 2 minutes of rest afterwards! When I finished these, my next thought was oh, fuck, I have to run. I wonder how that is going to feel?
When I got home, I drank an entire 16-oz. bottle of ice cold water (my engine coolant, as it were), changed into running shorts, grabbed a 12-oz. bottle of Gatorade, tuneage, visor, donned running shoes, and I'm off.
How can I describe how my legs feel running off a bike ride like that? Like I'm doing a fucking race, that's how. Only maybe worse. No taper, no rest the day before, 2 bricks on the weekend, no sleep. Perfect! I never feel like I'm moving much when I start to run in a workout like this, but I am. It's really, fucking hot now, and at least while I was on the bike I generated some breeze in addition to the hot wind, but not so much while running. And when I take off from home, it's a .25 mile climb up a hill. GREAT!
Now I need to decide which direction I'm going to go. I decide to go into the wind so that maybe I can catch a break on the way home. It's so fucking hot that I decide I'm running on the sidewalk (ah, whiteness reflecting the sun and shade at times), and I decided to run the same route as if I was riding to my interval loop, which would be a nice change of pace. Not hilly--I didn't really need to run hills right now.
OMG the sweat is just streaming off me right now, and I know I must be glistening like an oiled pig. But thank God for my visor with the dark underside and really dark sunglasses (I wore my Catlike's) to keep all that sun out of my face. I actually ran a pretty decent pace, and I enjoyed actually looking at the landscaping I was passing. Of course, my brain kept playing games like, "Hey, we can cut this run short it won't matter one bit." But I know the games my mind likes to play and my answer was, "Not today."
Not too long after I turned around to head home, a cicada landed on one of my legs, and I picked him or her up to toss into the air while screaming, "I'm not a tree!" A guy doing some shrub trimming looked up at my outburst and I figured he didn't get it, so I explained that a cicada had landed on me. I smiled, laughed, and continued on.
When I got to the one stoplight on this particular route, and it was red, I tried my best to stand in the shade of the stoplight! That's how hot it was. The last mile was mostly downhill (yeah, I know I said no hills, but I forget they are everywhere), which was really nice, and before I started this one, I polished off the Gatorade and put the bottle in my shorts in my butt. Well, not IN my butt, but you know what I mean--between my shorts and my butt. I do get tired of holding onto the bottle, so it's a nice break to stash it and not have to worry about it. I'm sure it looks rather, ahem, interesting in that particular spot, but I gotta say it stays put there.
When I finished, I was so sweaty that I couldn't even shower right away because I would just keep sweating, so I stripped down and began drinking Endurox R4, and I stuck my head into the open freezer for a minute because I was so flushed. Then I went upstairs and stood in front of a fan while checking my work email. I think I waited about 10 minutes before I got into the shower, and of course, it was the BEST SHOWER EVER.
I felt like I had put out a good effort, and I didn't feel too badly, considering. But let me tell you that an hour later I felt like I needed to LAY DOWN NOW. But I couldn't, because I had work to do, and I got it done, and my body told me it needed steak for dinner, so I had some of that with asparagus wrapped in prosciutto with fontina cheese, and later on a humongous toasted bagel with butter and jam. And 2 beers.
I passed out at 8:30 and slept until 4:30 this morning. That was the best sleep I've had in a few days, and now I'm ready to go for today--a 3400 yard swim and then a 1:10 tempo run later on, and I'll finish up my strength workout. This weekend is a race rehearsal weekend--a 2.4 mile time trial swim on Friday and on Saturday ride the entire Ironman Wisconsin course and run 6 miles off the bike.
I should be in a freaking McDonald's commercial--I'm LOVIN' IT!!!
Wednesday, June 27, 2007
Tuesday, June 26, 2007
My Latest Amulet
For the last 2 years, I have been wearing a lone ruby stud earring on a regular basis, even though I have double-pierced ears and rarely wear jewelry anymore. I began wearing it as a sort of amulet, or what I like to call my "sanity saver." I have objects that I keep for no other reason than they remind me to stay calm and peaceful in times of turmoil.
The ruby stud earring helped me through a difficult depression in late 2005 (which is when I first began writing this blog--can you believe it's almost been 2 years?), it stayed with me through my Mom's terminal illness and death, and it saw me through Ironman Brazil and a summer of intense training last year. It was still going strong this past winter as I completed a 1/2 Ironman, repeated Goofy Challenge, the indoor triathlon series, Triple T and Horribly Hilly.
On a whim last week, while talking to a neighbor of mine, Vicky, who is single and lives across the street from me (she house sits for me when I'm away), I decided to go down to the local festival on Friday night. Vicky said she was walking down and I said I'd join her, what the heck. It was more just an excuse to take a walk, and I thought perhaps get to know her better, and maybe a stop in the beer tent.
We got down there around 5PM, and I was surprised that the craft show was still open! Before I began all this endurance nonsense, I would make a point to go to this craft show and look for jewelry, if nothing else. I have an insane collection of jewelry--most of the precious stones (the four basic food groups being diamond, emerald, ruby and sapphire) and tons of the semi-precious. I also like artsy-fartsy jewelry, and am always looking for original items, especially those that aren't mass-produced. All of the beautiful suits and dresses that I sewed back when I needed to dress that way for work have matching jewelry. It's crazy, since I rarely wear the stuff anymore, but somehow I know it will come in handy in the future, and some lucky young lady is going to inherit all my stuff!
Anyway, we get to the craft fair and I see a stand with all this crystal stuff, and that's where I got the necklace. The stone is a Swarovski crystal that is actually an extra chandelier piece. The woman who makes this jewelry gets "overruns" from Swarovski and makes them into various pieces. Of course, my eyes were drawn to all the pink ones, and I had to decide between a true hot pink and the fuchsia one. As you can see, I chose fuchsia, and I'm glad I did.
For reference sake, the size of the stone is about 1 3/4". I have now been wearing this thing during the day as my new amulet. It's tough to miss! Yesterday I was out in the front yard when 3 teen girls were walking by, and I could see they were looking at it, so I showed it to them and told them what it was (they didn't know anything about Swarovski crystal so I told them), and they said it was very pretty.
I know it may appear superstitious, but wearing this is helping me to keep my wits about me during this last stretch of monstrous training. It's tough to be angry, sad or self-critical when I've got it around my neck. I am not wearing it during workouts, though!
Can you imagine the chandelier this was made for? Man, someday...
Things continue to bloom in my yard, and I've created a new Flickr album, which will be updated throughout the week: http://www.flickr.com/photos/8737154@N04/sets/72157600496071836/
Sunday, June 24, 2007
Weekly Workout Totals 06/18/2007-06/24/2007and Nuclear Hangover Ride!
Today I went riding with Marty, who was brave and smart enough to take me up on an offer to meet him in Fermilab to do some intervals. The drawing above is from the cover of a magazine. Check it out if you're a geek! The next 2 pics are of Marty and I before we began riding; the next 2 are when we are about 2/3 done and the swans were on my way home.
Last night, I went down to my local summer festival, called Heritage Fest, with Harold, who is a guy I met on a ride about a month ago. We both have challenging schedules, and we would be riding together more except that he crashed on his MTB and messed up a finger (just like Cindy--what is it with friends messing up their pinkie fingers?), so he was available for a mellow evening and I somehow managed to stay awake after my 4 hour trainer ride followed by a :40 run and then a :30 swim. The upshot was that I was very much enjoying his company, and I drank a bit more than I should have considering what I needed to do today. But you know how some people are worth a hangover? Harold is one of those people. After he went home, I stayed up until (GASP!) 11:30, so I could do a little dancing with the stereo cranked (hey it's something I do a few times a year, what can I say?), and I set my alarm clock for 6:00AM in case I didn't feel like waking up so I could be ready to ride by 7:15.
I woke up at one point during the night and popped some Tylenol, which was a good move. I woke up at 5:39 before the alarm clock and felt like what the hell, this is going to be an interesting day! I know from past experience (and not too many times, for the record) that I can still ride pretty well with a hangover, but you never know. Luckily, I had mixed all my bottles and had Bitchie all set up to go except for pumping the tires, so all I really needed to do once I woke up was fucking wake up and pound down some calories. Before yesterday's workout festival, I downed 700 calories before I mounted LGL (I ended up on the trainer for 4 full hours!), but today, I only downed about 600. Of course, 300 of that was Ultrafuel, which didn't make me gag right away, but a few minutes after it was down the hatch it made me gag, and then I brushed my teeth and gagged a few minutes and then my stomach kept being mad at me to the point where I really would have liked to vomit, but then I'd need to brush my teeth again which would make me gag, so I did my best not to puke.
It was supposed to be a sunny, mild (high 80) day, but there were remnant clouds left over from yesterday's constant rain. It was about 65 when I started riding, and it felt nice and cool, but I wasn't chilled or anything. As I headed west, I saw lots of cyclists with all long sleeves and shit and thought what wusses. 65 or higher and I am in sleeveless tank, because that's what I'd wear in an Ironman race so I should be used to it, right?
About 5 miles from home who did I see going the opposite direction? Larry, the guy who is going to borrow my bike box this fall. I recognized him, and when he realized it was me, he also let out a big yell. He has never seen me on any of my bikes, and I was all hunkered down aero getting things done. It was nice to see him.
About 2 miles later, I came upon signs indicating there was a 5K that was going on, which I figured would start at 8AM. I almost wished I had running shoes with me and didn't have to meet Marty at a set time, because I would have run the race and then gotten back on my Bitch! I saw some volunteer girls with these really neat hats (sparkly AND pink!), and I told them I thought they were cool.
About 1.5 miles later, who rides up on me but Lauren Jensen and her husband, Todd. Lauren lives in southern Wisconsin, but she comes down my way for various races, and she goes to the same bike shop as me, and I don't remember just when I met her, but we always say hi to one another. So now I'm allegedly warming up and now I'm with a pro triathlete, so you know what happens--we pick it up, and I figure I had better hang with her and Todd lest I look like a poser, you know? Lauren was supposed to be doing Ironman Switzerland today, but she's got a running injury (so sad), but she was still in a great mood. I asked what she was doing down here and there was some ride she was doing and she invited me and man, that would have been awesome to ride with her all day (assuming I could hang on), but I had a ride date with Marty, so no go. Lauren and Todd turned off my road after about 2 miles, and I was secretly glad that I rode harder for that short time even though I could supposedly relax now.
But no. Another 2 miles later, there's a group of 4 women coming from the north to an intersection, and I could have just latched onto them except that I got a red light. Of course, I was like, "Crap," but you know what had to be done. When my light changed, I gauged how fast they were going and figured I could catch up. So I did, said hello, and proceeded to pass them all and pull in front, and then I had a nice train behind me for about 2.5 miles. I was hauling ass going 26MPH and periodically I'd glance behind to see if they were able to stick with me. Not all the time, but after that nice pull, I dropped back to chat with them and we began climbing the ONE hill on this route and I commented to one of them that I couldn't climb for shit today. What she heard was, "I can't climb for shit," and she said she was the same way, and so I corrected her and said, "No, I just can't climb TODAY--I'm a good climber, and I did a 200K with 10,000 feet of climbing last Saturday." So then she says, "Oh, so this is a recovery ride, right?" And I said, "No, I'm recovered and this is my 4th ride of the week." At this point, I think the ladies figure out I'm pretty serious (duh) and we discuss what we are doing today. I would have been happy to ride with them some more (they were pretty good), but they had their own agenda and I had mine. So we parted ways at Eola Road, which is where I turn and head north to enter Fermilab.
I had agreed to meet Marty at the East gate, so the distance from my house there was about 19 miles, and I'd gone pretty fast, so I arrived ahead of schedule (8:30 was our agreed upon meeting time). Marty arrived, and I felt sorry for him because I don't think he had a warmup, as we just started the intervals--:25 of HIM watts, :10 at FTP, and then some rest. I told him to just hang with me and he could draft or whatever. I was putting out good power today, which kinda surprised me what with the hangover (which I dutifully used in my deliberate sandbagging before we started riding), but I think I am just peaking and it's all good. I warned him when we needed to crank it up a notch, and I did pull away from him, which I expected, but dang, that boy has some serious potential!
After we finished the first interval, we had some time to chat, and I was only supposed to ride easy for :05, but I wasn't concerned, so we extended that a bit because I didn't think it would be nice to just ride. Marty's a fucking smart geek! And I mean that as a compliment! It was awesome hearing about his graduate studies and we found it really easy to talk to one another. You can't beat the combination of someone who will ride with you that's fucking smart and interesting!
We began the second interval, only we went a bit easier than HIM watts, which was fine, because I was riding more than Marty and knew I could "make it up" later after he left. But when it came time for the second FTP interval, I just poured it on. We went into a slight headwind, which I like, because it makes me push harder, and I think I was going about 24MPH into it and just loving every second. We finished that up right next to my favorite tanks of Helium and Nitrogen, and that's where we shot the photos you see above in front of the tanks. At first I was going to go with the Helium, but then I made a split-second decision to go with Nitrogen. Marty made some comment about the element that I don't remember, but I know it was clever and funny (for a pair of geeks, anyway!).
Then we rode easy to get Marty back to his car so he could take off. He was going with his girlfriend to the Gay Pride parade in downtown Chicago. I asked him if they planned to act gay or not, and I told him that sometimes when I travel with girlfriends on training junkets that we play it up as if we are lovers and laugh hysterically.
Marty's doing a sprint triathlon next weekend in Decatur and then an Olympic in Mattoon, and we have no idea if and when we will see one another again, but I think I convinced him to sign up for Miami Man if he can swing the timing with his graduate studies. He wasn't planning on stepping up to that distance that year, but you know I'm an incessant pusher, and I know he could do it.
So Marty takes off and I turn for home, and I'm riding well and still enjoying the day. About 7 miles from home is when I saw the swan cygnets, and it took me a few seconds before I realized I had my camera with me and could capture them. The cygnets are so cute!
When I'm about .75 miles from home, I almost got killed by some interloper from another suburb who's madly turning left in front of me to get to a parking spot for the festival presumably so he and his family can stuff their maws full of Elephant ears, corn on the cob, pizza and other assorted junk food (OK so I ate pizza last night, but what the fuck I needed like 5,000 calories yesterday). Oh my, did I let out a string of expletives, that I don't really care whether the asshole heard me or not, but I needed to get it out of my system because I got such an adrenalin rush. I think the term I used was "What the hell you fucking bastard," and I screamed it at the top of my lungs. I had to swerve and lay on the brakes, but I didn't go down or anything and it gave me a bit of a scare. But I knew that it was due to the damn festival, so I'm glad it's over today and I won't have to face it again TOMORROW when I have to RIDE AGAIN!
Yes, you heard it right, that will be 4 days straight of cycling, and I am also riding Tuesday so that will be 5 days in a row. I have this love-hate relationship with my coach. I love him when the training makes me strong (and once again, he's right on schedule with my beginning to peak for IMLP), and I hate and curse him when I'm in agony, like I was once I started to run after the ride today. Before Rich wrote up my training block that goes through the next 2 weeks, I had made one myself. Usually I can put the screws to myself pretty damn well, but when I got his version, I was like, what the hell, can I even do this shit? But he's been my coach for 3 years now, and he knows what I'm capable of and so I just do it.
Oh, lordie, I can bike like a mofo with a hangover, but running fucking SUCKS! But I did it, and actually ran decently, considering I did a brick yesterday, too. And now I am starting on a little painkiller and laying in bed and watching "The Barber of Seville" opera (my favorite, by Rossini) and periodically checking the IMCDA results, but there's plenty of time for that later, maybe a nappie poo, and I still have to go get groceries and do laundry. I live in a fucking bike shop/bottle factory right now and it just makes me laugh!
P.S. Harold--I DID kiss my Bitch before I rode her hard today.
P.P. S. Doesn't my new Catlike helmet (and matching shades) make me look like a bad-ass?
P.P.P.S. Is the signage above my head on the nitrogen tank talking about the element or me?
And now for the workout totals. The funny thing is all that I had scheduled for Monday was a :30 swim, to which I added :30 strength, and look where I ended up! I wrote my own swim workouts for the week. I've got two more big weeks (about 20 hours each) and then I start to taper down. I think I needed all that beer last night!
Weekly Totals 06/18/2007-06/24/2007
Swim: 13850 yards (7.86 miles) in 4.93 hours; 22% of weekly workout time; approx. 1727 calories burned
Bike: Approx. 199.21 miles in 11.35 hours; 51% of weekly workout time; approx. 5016 calories burned
Run: Approx. 32.16 miles in 4.85 hours; 22% of weekly workout time; approx. 2199 calories burned
Strength: 1.1 hours; 5% of weekly workout time; approx. 275 calories burned
All Sports: Approx. 239.23 miles in 22.23 hours; approx. 9217 calories burned
Sleep: 7.25 hours avg./night
Stretching: 2.97 hours. Massage: 1.5 hours
Swim: 13850 yards (7.86 miles) in 4.93 hours; 22% of weekly workout time; approx. 1727 calories burned
Bike: Approx. 199.21 miles in 11.35 hours; 51% of weekly workout time; approx. 5016 calories burned
Run: Approx. 32.16 miles in 4.85 hours; 22% of weekly workout time; approx. 2199 calories burned
Strength: 1.1 hours; 5% of weekly workout time; approx. 275 calories burned
All Sports: Approx. 239.23 miles in 22.23 hours; approx. 9217 calories burned
Sleep: 7.25 hours avg./night
Stretching: 2.97 hours. Massage: 1.5 hours
Good Luck Ironman CDA Participants!
The longer I do this, the more people I know. Now, I literally read the entire entry list to scan for those I know, and here are the ones--send them some good vibes, but especially Brett, because he's been under the weather for a few days. I spoke with him yesterday and gave him all the advice I could (I was very ill during Ironman Brazil last year). Something tells me he'll be OK, but as I told him, we all love him no matter what.
Kurt and wife Shelley: 1409 and 2196
Dave Kuhnau: 153
Andrey Parvanov: 760
Tony Lyons: 740
Trevor Oseen: 671
Brett Cornwright: 878
Momo: 2290
Michelle Boyer: 2293
Mark Seale: 605
I am sure there are others. GOOD LUCK all of you and HAVE A DAY! I'll be thinking about you while I'm doing my tiny 4:30 workout today!
Kurt and wife Shelley: 1409 and 2196
Dave Kuhnau: 153
Andrey Parvanov: 760
Tony Lyons: 740
Trevor Oseen: 671
Brett Cornwright: 878
Momo: 2290
Michelle Boyer: 2293
Mark Seale: 605
I am sure there are others. GOOD LUCK all of you and HAVE A DAY! I'll be thinking about you while I'm doing my tiny 4:30 workout today!
Saturday, June 23, 2007
Gag Festival
Well, I need to wash my bike BEFORE I ride it (too much stickiness on the rear brake from dripping/condensation/whatever from behind the saddle), it's raining, and I may end up on the trainer for awhile, and I just drank the Ultrafuel which made me gag and then I immediately brushed my teeth which also made me gag. And I took apart a box fan so I could clean it and it's so disgusting that it made me gag. And the garbage in my garage made me gag--what the hell, I guess lobster shells get a little ripe in the heat. And I cleaned the toilets this morning, also making me gag.
Hey, but when you start a day that low it can only improve, right?
Friday, June 22, 2007
Happy Friday!
I just brushed my teeth and gagged while doing so. I think maybe the gag reflex has to do with my brain knowing that I'm about to work out (I'm going swimming shortly).
I'm up to 10 hours of training for the week already and have about 3 hours to do today. FUCKING A!!!!
See how happy my fridge is? 3 lovelies are busy defizzing themselves in preparation for this weekend's riding festival. The sandwich (or should I say remains) is something I made last night. It's a tomato focaccia round (about 8" I think) with the following fillings: prosciutto, hot capicollo, soppresata, Volpi salami and Provolone cheese. REAL mayo on one half of the bread, and on the other half a good sprinkling of Balsamic vinegar, virgin olive oil and oregano. I planned to eat only 1/4 of it last night, but it turned into half. Guess I must be training a lot, eh?
My garden is taking off right about now, so I took a bunch of shots, including pics of my statuary (yeah, I know--at least I don't have any garden gnomes--YET--but if someone were to buy one for me, I wouldn't be offended, HINT HINT). The pics are here: http://www.flickr.com/photos/8737154@N04/sets/72157600400629771/
Enjoy, and kick ass at whatever you do today!
Thursday, June 21, 2007
Gag Reflex
I keep wondering if I am unique in that I experience this quite often while in heavy training:
- When brushing my teeth, even before the brush hits my mouth, and then while I'm actually brushing my teeth
- When entering a porta-potty and then while in it. This one seems normal to me, although I doubt if everyone else actually gags and chokes.
- Sometimes when I'm about to begin a long run. Not sure why!
- When I'm about to drink and then while drinking and for about :15 after, Ultrafuel
What's up with this? Am I just weird? I'm almost embarrassed to admit to this, but on the other hand, it makes me laugh. I sort of understand the toothbrush and Ultrafuel things, and believe that it's my body's way of letting me know how sick it is of me stuffing all the sugary things down my throat. But still...
Wednesday, June 20, 2007
My First "Moment" of this Training Cycle
I'm having a good cry right now. It was triggered by thinking of a friend, Brett, who is doing his first Ironman this Sunday at Coeur d'Alene. I realized he might be leaving this very minute, so I left him a message on his cell phone, and then headed to his blog to leave some last minute advice, AND I sent him an email. Apparently, I have a lot to say to this young man!
I'm not sad--I'm very happy for Brett, and in thinking about first Ironmans and the many I've done, I suppose I am realizing how blessed I am to be healthy enough to do all this training and have all this prosperity in my life to be able to travel to races and events, and to well, just plain enjoy life. So these are tears of happiness and joy and awe and gratitude, and it's almost the summer solstice and the days are very long, very beautiful, and life is just bursting all around me.
Some of you may think the crying is a sign of overtraining, but it's not. I am literally enjoying myself SO much this year, not just in my "triathlon" life, but in the rest of my life, and I am amazed at all the universe has laid in front of me. I have so much, but I also see my infinite potential. Sometimes this gives me the feeling of being totally out of control, which I suppose is good, because (as you may have guessed), I am a person who likes to be very much in control. Yet I love the yin-yang of feeling in and out of control.
Today is a very long day, and I want to get started on it. See, I've "suited up." The shades are my new Catlike shades that I got with the Catlike helmet (which makes an appearance on Friday). It's bound to be a great one!
Namaste!
Edit: And then I swam 4,800 yards in an outdoor pool. Above is the "before" shot. I don't have an after, but I did do a pretty good job of softening some of the tan lines.
Tuesday, June 19, 2007
What's Blooming in My Yard 6/19/2007
I am now uploading bulk photos to my Flickr account (they were happy to take my annual fee for unlimited uploads) rather than posting all of them here, since I am starting to take a lot.
Enjoy!
http://www.flickr.com/photos/8737154@N04/sets/72157600400629771/
Enjoy!
http://www.flickr.com/photos/8737154@N04/sets/72157600400629771/
Weekly Workout Totals 06/11/2007-06/17/2007
Weekly Totals 06/11/2007-06/17/2007
Swim: 10200 yards (5.79 miles) in 3.65 hours; 18% of weekly workout time; approx. 1278 calories burned
Bike: Approx. 163.98 miles in 11.15 hours; 54% of weekly workout time; approx. 5534 calories burned
Run: Approx. 32.35 miles in 4.96 hours; 24% of weekly workout time; approx. 2238 calories burned
Strength: 1.08 hours; 5% of weekly workout time; approx. 270 calories burned
All Sports: Approx. 202.12 miles in 20.84 hours; approx. 9320 calories burned
Sleep: 7.29 hours avg./night
Stretching: 1.58 hours. Massage: 1.5 hours
And for those of you keeping score at home, here are my total weekly hours for the past 8 weeks:
19.13
19.45
20.08
18.31
20.78
16.54
21.08
20.84
What the hell??? Guess I'm training a lot this year...I think someone's slipping me extra training hours, cuz I sure as hell don't know where they're coming from! Sometimes I feel like Jim Carrey's character in The Mask when he says, "Somebody STOP ME!"
Swim: 10200 yards (5.79 miles) in 3.65 hours; 18% of weekly workout time; approx. 1278 calories burned
Bike: Approx. 163.98 miles in 11.15 hours; 54% of weekly workout time; approx. 5534 calories burned
Run: Approx. 32.35 miles in 4.96 hours; 24% of weekly workout time; approx. 2238 calories burned
Strength: 1.08 hours; 5% of weekly workout time; approx. 270 calories burned
All Sports: Approx. 202.12 miles in 20.84 hours; approx. 9320 calories burned
Sleep: 7.29 hours avg./night
Stretching: 1.58 hours. Massage: 1.5 hours
And for those of you keeping score at home, here are my total weekly hours for the past 8 weeks:
19.13
19.45
20.08
18.31
20.78
16.54
21.08
20.84
What the hell??? Guess I'm training a lot this year...I think someone's slipping me extra training hours, cuz I sure as hell don't know where they're coming from! Sometimes I feel like Jim Carrey's character in The Mask when he says, "Somebody STOP ME!"
Well they don't call me Crackhead for nuthin.
Sunday, June 17, 2007
2007 Horribly Hilly Hundreds 200K Ride Report
As always, it was an epic ride. I apologize in advance for all the foul language herewith. I would have published this on http://trifuel.com/, except I didn’t want to censor the way I actually thought and talked on the day, and I think it’s a better read this way.
Photos can be viewed here: http://www.flickr.com/photos/8737154@N04/sets/72157600380989626/
I made the trip with my friend, Lori, who also raced Triple T 3 weeks ago (and handily won the coed team division with her SO, Marc). Lori graciously volunteered to drive her van, but we would be leaving directly after the ride on Saturday rather than staying overnight.
Back up to Thursday. I had an outstanding 2:30 run, covering 16.5 miles. I have never felt so good on such a long training run. The workout protocol had me warming up easy for :30, then moving into Z2 and upper Z3 (half marathon pace) work. I ran in my favorite place, Waterfall Glen, which happens to be adjacent to Argonne National Laboratory, so I am getting in my extra protons and neutrons while there! That day, the way I controlled my pace was by paying acute attention to my breathing. I still had some soreness in my left serratus and upper intercostals from the run crash the week before, and labored breathing, coughing and laughing still made my ribcage hurt. So for the easy pace stuff, my mantra was “barely breathing,” which translated to about a 10:00/mile pace. Z2 I pegged as “breathing a little bit,” and that came out to about a 9:30/mile pace, and the half marathon breathing pattern was “definitely breathing,” for a pace of about 8:50/mile. For reference sake, tempo pace would be “breathing a lot.” It was the first time I was so in touch with my breathing, and it was amazing how it translated to the correct paces for me. The actual paces I ran varied due to the terrain, which is rolling hills. During the run, I had 3 deer jump across the path in front of me, I assisted one painted turtle across the path (to avoid being run over by cyclists), I saw a bluebird up close and personal, and I ran into a guy I know from the Y. Chris was on his hybrid, and I took a few minutes to stop and chat with him when I was about 9 miles into the run. He asked how much I was running, and when I told him, he said (like he says to me regularly), “When do you take easy days?” I told him that usually Mondays and Fridays were “easy” for me (Monday is usually a swim and a form run and Friday is a swim and perhaps a short run). I told him I thought I actually had a couple of easy rides on my schedule, and we could try and do one of those together. He’s a much faster runner than me, but nowhere near as fast a cyclist. I’d date him, except that I think he prefers less active bimbos. Once he said to me point blank that I would be a hard woman to date because of my drive. Nice, huh? Oh well, it is what it is.
I took Friday off from work. Rich hadn’t scheduled any workouts for me, but I was certain I’d do a swim, and contemplated a short, easy run, just to see what’s what after Thursday’s run, plus I wanted to get in 4 runs for the week. I swam 3200 yards at 7:00AM, and wore a 2-piece swimsuit, so I could just take off the bottom and put on running shorts and head out right from the Y. It made me smile because for a few years, I did my swim/run workouts back to back during the summer, and would always be running out with a wet, cool top! I decided to only run :30, and to try and run real easy, so again, I focused on “barely breathing.” I ended up running about 9:30/mile, which I rarely do outside of long runs. Within 2 minutes, I ran into Larry, who is an awesome runner that I know from the Y, who is doing his first century ride this fall and wants to borrow my bike box. He had put on a little weight (but he has never by any stretch been fat) about a year ago, but he’s totally leaned out, and he was on his bike as we chatted. I told him I got a new bike, and he guessed its cost at $3,000, and I laughed at him. Anyway, it was nice to see him, because usually he runs on the treadmill (go figure), so I don’t see much of him in the spring through fall. Since he was heading TO the Y and I would need to circle back to retrieve my crap, I decided I’d write my contact information down for him and pass it to him, which I did, as he was on the treadmill. I thoroughly enjoyed my short run, and my legs didn’t feel bad at all. As always, I got all sorts of stares, as I was sporting my low-cut Desoto shorts. I have just gotten used to running in those, as they are extremely comfortable for me. Yeah, I have washboard abs and it makes people (men AND women) look, and that’s cool. I’m a bit of an exhibitionist (stop laughing right now!). Side note: during my Wednesday run, while dressed in a similar fashion, a woman driving a truck looked at me and flipped me off! How sad and angry she must be to do that. I was clear on the opposite side of the road up on the sidewalk climbing a hill. Usually I get a few whistles from men, so this was unexpected.
I finished swimming and running by about 9:00AM, which gave me time to do some house cleaning (the incessant bottle manipulation continues) and pack. In the process, I knew I had better start loading up on the carbs, so I drank some Endurox R4, a can of guava juice, and ate 1.5 bananas. I couldn’t choke down the whole second banana, as I could feel my insulin spiking as it was, and I already had about 700 calories worth of carbs in my tummy. I hadn’t worked out enough to need that much, and my eating automatically adjusts to my workout load; however, when I have a big day following, my brain puts me into calorie acquisition mode. I figure I had blasted through all my glycogen stores on Thursday and was probably a bit in the hole from a short swim and run, so the stocking began.
I arrived at Lori’s Friday afternoon around 2:45PM. She was all packed and ready to go, so we transferred my bike, 2 bags and 2 coolers to her van and we took off, after making a quick stop to get gasoline.
Let me tell you, I consider myself pretty high energy, but Miss Lori seems to be in the stratosphere to me sometimes! She is younger than me with 5 boys (ages 10-21), she’s a really fast triathlete (my idol) who trains even more than I do, and she’s going to school for her nursing degree. Needless to say, she and I have some extremely animated discussions. Lori’s Italian, to boot, so you have blond Italian chic and blond Croatian chic both talking with not only their hands, but their entire arms!
We made good time to Verona, Wisconsin (where our hotel was), and decided to continue on to Mt. Horeb to pick up our ride packets. Mt. Horeb is only another 11 miles west of Verona. On the way there, we were both looking at the beautiful countryside, since we’ve both done Ironman Wisconsin, and go up there to train quite often.
Packets in tow, we headed back to Verona to check into the hotel. I will be staying there twice more this summer with different people, so I am sure the front desk woman will start to recognize me! We dropped our bags (bikes were left in the van), and headed to dinner.
Lori had forgot to pack bottles and gels for her nutrition. She was concerned about getting this stuff, and I told her not to worry we’d get it under control. We went to the store, "World of Variety," first (note to self: need to go shop there--they have a lot of campy looking stuff!), but they were closing, and told us they didn’t carry empty bottles, so we went to Walgreen’s. Walgreens had some cheap bottles that would do the trick, even though Lori was worried they would be too big for her Profile cages in the XLAB. I told her they would fit (she doesn’t know another nickname of mine is “Volume Queen”), and that we’d snag gels en route on Saturday. While she was shopping for necessities, I browsed the toy aisle (I tell you the Verona Walgreen’s ROCKS!) and picked up two bouncy things that light up and are rainbow colors (yes, I am such a little kid in many ways).
Next, we headed to dinner at the one sit-down restaurant in Verona, Avanti’s. I had been there before on a training expedition, and I knew they had decent food. As we walked into the dining area, it was obvious there were a lot of other cyclists eating there, some of which one or the other or both of us knew. I initially met Lori through a guy named Dan who I met once when I captained a team for Hustle up the Hancock, when another guy I knew, Jim, recruited Dan (who’s an awesome fast climber) for the team, and as Lori told me yesterday, Dan told her she needed to meet me because we were very similar.
Anyway, Lori ordered a glass of wine and I got a Bell’s Oberon, which was tasty. They had Blue Moon, but I had that at home, and the waitress said to go with the Bell’s, which is brewed in Michigan. We decided to order a pizza, and what we asked for was pepperoni, garlic and tomatoes. What we got, and ate anyway, was pepperoni, sausage, garlic and pepperoncini! We both like the pepperoncini, but they were a bit much on the pizza. Still, we ate a good deal of a large, and I took the 2 remaining slices for later. It seems that I eat the most of anyone I train with lately!
We went back to the hotel, where we got ice for our coolers, laid out our outfits for the next day, and then tried to relax. Lori had brought along some paperwork, and I was amazed at how she kept at things, while I was basically just laying around, so I did get on the floor to stretch for about :20. All the while, we are talking, and of course, watching the Weather Channel. The forecast called for high 80’s with afternoon thunderstorms, and the little local map had the thunder clouds everywhere in the area. Oh well, what are you going to do.
I had brought temporary tattoos with me, and showed Lori the selection. She opted for the hibiscus flower ring (that I bought in Kona the last time I was there—sigh—I need to get back somehow), and I opted for the thorn ring for an arm and a death skull for one of my calves. Note to self: need to find some more good temporary tattoos for the next few weeks and also for Ironman Lake Placid—I am not sure what I would like to sport there.
We decided we’d get up at 4:45AM and shoot for a 6:45AM start. Technically, the ride starts at 7:00AM, but there was no chip timing this time, so as long as you have a map, why would you wait around until 7, especially when it was hot and humid and just going to get hotter and more humid?
Well, with all the pizza in my tummy (I managed to eat the toppings off the last 2 slices) and the excitement of knowing what we were going to do the next day, and the fact that I generally haven’t been sleeping much past 4AM lately, I awoke at my usual 3:30AM because my body had processed the food (draw your own conclusions here). I got back into bed, and just lay there, knowing it wasn’t long until it was wake up time. At 4AM, I heard Lori stir, so I just asked her if she was awake and could we get moving. She was cool with it, laughing at me for being so excited, and I clicked the coffee pot (which I had set the night before) to on, let Lori languish while it brewed, turned on the TV (it was brilliant that it automatically tuned to the Weather Channel), and took a look outside.
I saw some clouds, which was probably a good thing, and then Lori got up, we had coffee and our breakfast, and then I pulled out my pre-mixed Ultrafuel and drank it. At that moment, I realized I had a “normal” bottle that Lori could use for her bike, which made her very happy. I had another bottle from the ride bag, so Lori ended up not using the Franken bottles from Walgreen’s. I had pre-mixed 2 bottles of Infinit. Each bottle contained about 900 calories (and I wrote “CALORIES” on the generic bottles!), and I would also carry 2 smaller bottles in my jersey for plain water to chase it with. All the while we are setting up, we are taking turns sighing and making various noises, and we laughed at one another whenever we caught each other in a sigh. We also both talk to ourselves out loud while we are getting ready, saying stuff like, "OK," "All right," and "Huh." Cracks me up!
We suited up and left at 5:30 for Blue Mounds, which is where the ride begins. On the way there, we could see the big ball of a sun rising, and we knew it would be a warm day. We smiled watching the terrain get progressively hillier.
We got a primo parking spot right across from the little store at the base on Mounds Park Road, right next to porta-potties. We got our stuff ready, I had a guy who had never done the ride before snap a few photos, and we were off and rolling at 6:19AM.
Lori is a brutally strong rider, and I didn’t want to hold her back (I’m a big girl), but we both agreed we’d stay together for the first 2 stages, in case either of us decided to bag the 200K and just do 100K. This was good for both of us because we both kept ourselves in check.
The ride is organized in “stages,” or perhaps we should call them degrees of difficulty, as the climbing progresses from hardly any on Stage 1 to what the fucking hell idiocy in Stages 4 and 5. Each stage is 20+ miles long, and each one changes your concept of mileage!
During the first stage, you do the 2.9-mile Mounds Park Road climb, after they take you away from the mound for some easy flat to rolling riding. The first time you make the ascent, it doesn’t feel so bad, but then you know you are going to do it again like 115 miles later and that it won’t feel so good then. Anyway, we climbed it easily and then made the big descent back to where we started and it was close to 7:00AM and there were lots of riders congregating to begin their days.
Some girls I know spotted me and said hello, but Lori and I were all about getting on with the day (and those girls were probably just doing the 100K), but there weren’t good markings for where we were supposed to go. I spotted a guy with “VOLUNTEER” on the back of his shirt sporting a Viking hat, and yelled at him, “HEY VOLUNTEER!” He was up on stairs to a bar and ignored us, but a woman on the ground pointed us in the right direction and we were off.
The first stage isn’t bad at all, aside from the Mounds Park Road climb. You can see the map here. Basically, you circle around Route 78, managing to go up every stinking climb on either side of it, passing through the Town of Vermont all day long. Moen Vally and Scherbel have some climbing, but it’s not bad at all. The stage ends at Festge Park, though, which is up a fairly steep climb that sucks donkey balls, because you go a bit downhill before crossing the busy Route 14, where you hope you don’t have to full stop before ascending. We got lucky, as the nice policeman was holding traffic for us!
Rest stop 1 was basically fill up water bottles, grab some gels and go. I also grabbed a banana, but could only choke down ½ of it. Since we had started early, they were pretty much just setting up the rest station, and while I looked around at a lot of the food, I didn’t really want any. The Infinit was doing its job.
You leave Festge Park the same way you came in after Stage 1, meaning you get to scream downhill while watching others climb slowly. The first bad climb in Stage 2 is Barlow Road, and I remember it fondly from the last 3 times I’ve done this ride. As soon as I saw the road sign, I shouted to everyone within earshot, “I remember Barlow—this one really sucks!” Lori is yelling at me to shut up already, and I keep telling her, “I’m just saying.” But, it was during this first suck-ass climb that both Lori and I are happy for having done Triple T just 3 weeks prior, which featured tons of nasty-ass climbing, so our legs were primed for this shit.
Barlow Road is bad enough, but then they top you off (or should I say pop you off?) with part of Mineral Point Road. Now, do the math people—names of roads that have any of the following words in them cannot be good: Point, View, Ridge, Hollow, Valley, Mound, High and Pinnacle. Horribly Hilly features all those and more! You wouldn’t think something called Barlow Road or Zwettler Road would be bad, but they are as well!
Anyway, Stage 2 ends up at Festge Park again, so you get to climb into the rest stop again. On the way up this time, I heard a rider calling out her watts at 260, and a guy behind her called out 250, and I started laughing and shouted out my watts, which were only 209, yet I was climbing at about the same speed as them! I fucking love being small! I had been trying to cap my climbing watts around 210, and if I could climb on less, I would do it whenever I could. There were a few short and really steep climbs where I ignored the Ergomo, but glanced once or twice and saw between 250 and 300. Whatever—nothing you can do about those short and steep ones (OK, shut up Rich if you read this). A girl has got to have some fun, right?
I had just opened an Espresso Love Gu (for some reason I thought I should add 100 calories for the fun of it) and stuck it in my mouth, and this guy I’ve known a few years comes up and picks me up in his arms, and I’m trying to scream, “JOHN!” but I have this gel in my mouth, so we had a huge hug, he put me down, I sucked down the Gu, and we caught up quickly. John is a hottie (sadly, he’s engaged to be married, but I’m happy for him) that I’ve ridden with in the past and we just seem to run into one another a lot during the summer. Wait—that’s most of the people I know. My world keeps getting smaller, but that’s a good thing. I think it was 2 years ago I was riding by myself on a group ride wearing a swimsuit bottom (it was very hot), and from behind I hear a guy screaming, “I’d recognize that ass anywhere!” It was John, and we laughed and rode together for awhile until I got stung in the forehead by a rogue bee, at which point I started cursing, but it was OK, since we were near an aid station where I demanded ice while the bee venom coursed through me (like I need another reason to be even more wired).
John asked me if I was riding 100K or 200K, and of course I looked at him like what a silly question, of course I’m riding 200K today! I told him about Triple T and told him he could read my race reports or go to my blog, and I guess this was the first time I told him my nickname is Crackhead, and he just looked at me and said, “It figures.”
So I’m catching up with John, and Lori comes over, and I introduce everyone and then Lori and I took off to begin Stage 3. Stage 3 features my favorite part of the ride—an area known as Enchanted Valley. I don’t believe it’s the actual name of a town. It sure is beautiful in there, and while in it (knowing full well that since you are in a valley that you will need to CLIMB THE FUCK OUT) you can see the surrounding hills in relief against one another. It really is enchanting!
There are a few “bad” climbs in Stage 3, but to me and Lori, it is still feeling quite manageable. I hadn’t stood up on any climbs, and didn’t want to, because if I didn’t stabilize myself exactly right (I did try it once), my left ribcage would hurt like a sonofabitch. We got to some fork where you could decide to bag the 200K and just do 100K, and Lori turned to me to ask me if I wanted to cut it short, and I said nope. After that, some guys rode up on us, and one guy says, “Sheila?” And I say yes, and he says it’s Mike of 3Iron. We had never met in person, but he said he recognized my bike from the photos on my blog. That was cool meeting him, and we all rode together for a bit, before I could sense Lori wanting to go hang with the fast boys, so I shooed her on.
I rolled into the Black Earth (home of the awesome restaurant, Heiney’s) rest station not too long after Lori and the boys, and here I saw John again. You get a little crazed doing these rides with all this climbing, especially when it’s stinking hot and humid. We all looked like wet rats or something. So as I’m taking a cold, wet towel to my face, I ask John why am I not getting any love from all these men? And he says it’s because I ride too fast. I told him there are plenty of guys who ride faster than me, but then again there are plenty who ride slower than me, and I shared how on one ride a guy asked me whether men I date need to be faster than me. I thought it was an odd question, but John laughed at me and said, “Well, they at least need to be able to hang with you.” John accused me of being a shameless flirt, but truthfully I don’t think I am—I really don’t know how. I just do what I do and be who I am, and if that comes off as flirtatious, oh well!
Lori took off from Black Earth ahead of me, which was fine by me, since I wanted to let her ride her own ride, even though I felt like I was riding within myself and doing pretty well on the day. Stage 4 is where you begin to notice whether you’ve been pacing yourself properly, as it’s loaded up with fucking hard climbs. The first one is Midland Road, which while on, kept reminding me of the infamous Midtown Road that’s on the Ironman Wisconsin course. But I couldn’t remember the name of the Ironman course road name for awhile, so I began scrolling Mid this and that in my head. I find it entertaining the things my brain does while I’m doing this shit. At any rate, I’m noticing that my legs don’t feel bad at all—I guess doing 80-mile and 104-mile rides back to back last weekend was a good thing.
I think it was on Midland Road that John and his crew rode up on me from behind, and John yells at me really loudly, “YOU SEXY BITCH!!!” As he rode up on me, I shouted, “Now that’s what I’m talkin’ about!” That kept me going for miles, for some reason.
Midland Road sucked (but I kept smiling because, hey, I’m a sexy bitch!), and then we got to Fesenfeld Road, which also sucked, and THEN Sutcliffe Road which was pretty bad, but next up was Zwettler Road. So you see, during this stage, they are just piling it on you, one after the other, with hardly any rest in between. Although I will say, I appreciated the descents a lot this year, and would do them in mad bomber mode, topping out at 45MPH on many of them. I can only imagine how fast some bigger guys went!
Anyway, Zwettler Road is a stinking, fucking whore. It has, I think, a series of 4 climbs. The first one is bad, the second one is fucking bad and the last two are really bad. On the second one, the steepest of the bunch, I was just pissed, and decided, what the fuck, I’m standing on this one. So I stood up, and my ribcage hurt, and I didn’t care, and I was yelling, “You stupid, stinking, fucking whore” while doing it. Some guy climbed about the same rate as me, and when we got to the brief reprieve before the next step and started up again, he laughed at me and said he was hearing other expletives all day, after I apologized for my little outburst.
There’s more shit on Stage 4 after Zwettler Road, and by this time you are starting to want this to be over, but I knew from years past, that Stage 5 is where the rubber meets the road. When you roll into the last rest station, which is just on the side of a road—no park, nothing fancy—you begin to see how the day is wearing on people. Some are laying on the ground moaning, many have this crazed look in their eyes thinking that they had just finished 100 miles of crap that felt like 200 miles and aren’t sure whether they can go on. I was just hoping they had hard-boiled eggs! In years past they did, but this time they cheesed out at the rest stations, and didn’t have them. But they did have make-your-own sandwiches, so I took a piece of good, old white bread, slapped on a big slice of turkey breast (they were HUGE slices), and stuffed my face. I just felt like I needed a bit of protein, but then I knew I’d have to chill for a few minutes, since once you roll out of this rest station, they fuck you in the ass by sending you up Pinnacle Road, and the last thing you need is to have a belly full of food and Gatorade or Infinit or whatever crap you are using.
So I see John with his buds here, and just because I was getting a bit giddy, I go up to him and say, “What did you say to me back there?” even though I knew what it was--I just wanted to hear him say it again. And he says, matter-of-factly, “I called you a Sexy Bitch.” And one of his buddies smiles broadly at me and says, “And that’s a compliment!” I already knew it was, and we all started laughing and making our decisions about moving on. I think I took off before those boys.
Secretly, I was hoping they had taken Pinnacle Road out of the ride, and for some reason, I was thinking there was no fucking way I was doing it and that I would walk my bike up. I have no clue why my brain was giving me this grief. Literally, you go .2 miles out of the last rest station, and then it’s a right turn, kiss your ass goodbye, here’s Pinnacle Road! Pinnacle Road is 2.5 miles of blissful, stinking, fucking crap, capped off with the worst crap you can imagine (unless you’ve done the infamous Shop Hill Road in the Dairyland Dare). At least it starts out not so bad, progressing to bad, really bad, and finally really, fucking, stinking bad you think you are going to fall over on your bike and that you can’t turn the pedals anymore because you are going nearly vertical.
But I did it, shouting, “FUCK YOU I’M NOT WALKING” to myself as I passed people on the way up, and when I did, we would quietly say to one another, “Good Job!” I mean, anyone climbing this shit is doing a great job, don’t you think?
Well, you wish that Pinnacle Road was the end of the crap, but if you’ve done the ride before, you know it isn’t, and you have this pit in your stomach that is just waiting for the bottom to fall out before you start climbing again. I started thinking about Barneveld, remembering there is a bad climb into that town, and then of course, the grand finale, climbing 2.9 miles up fucking Mounds Park Road for the second time just to let you know your legs are fucking toasted.
But there’s some not so bad stuff after Pinnacle Road, but now I’m thinking, wait, this ride is supposed to be 200K and we are not yet to Barneveld and then it’s a ways to Mounds Park Road, so how many fucking miles are they making us do today? On any other day, extra mileage is welcome. Not today!
In the brief respite stretch we get after Pinnacle Road, what jumps into my brain but Steve Martin? I have his first recorded record, “Let’s Get Small,” and there’s a routine on there where he says: “Sometimes people come up to me and say, Steve—how did you get so fuckin’ funny?” And I just keep rolling this over and over in my head, laughing out loud, smiling, and it amazes me that through all this crap that I am still laughing and having a great time. I alternate that with thoughts of “what the hell is wrong with me?” I wonder if other people go through similar thought processes when doing this shit. I think the dilemma of whether this is fun or stupid is the classic endurance ethos. I truly believe there ought to be a race that includes “fun AND stupid!” in its advertising. You’d get everybody and their brother signing up for that shit.
Well, we get to Lake View Road, which ostensibly, starts out as quite pretty. But, you know, it has the word “view” in it, so it can’t be good. It was here that I started to experience almost feeling like I couldn’t put out the 200-210 climbing watts that I thought I now needed. But I figured what the hell, I am still making it up, so I changed my perspective to thinking that I was saving it for the grand finale, and in fact I was! I hadn’t walked, I hadn’t stood up except on that stinking whore of a climb on Zwettler Road, I was 100% on my nutrition (calories are wonderful!), but now I was ready to get this show off the road. So while on Lake View (which is still a whore in my book), I’m wondering where is fucking Barneveld, and hoping maybe it was wiped off the map by a tornado. One year that actually almost happened in Barneveld, so it was no coincidence that my brain picked that scenario.
Well, I begin to scan the horizon for the Barneveld water tower, and pretty soon I am seeing it and figure I’m fucked. Sorry, Barneveld still exists, and you still need to climb the hell into it. It hurt like a mofo, and then I began thinking how much longer until Mounds Park Road? It was here that I heard someone say that the ride would end up being 130 miles today because of some construction bypass. What the fuck? WHAT THE FUCK???
So I look at my odometer, and sure enough, I’m in fucking Barneveld and I’m already at 118 miles and I know there’s more than 6 normally to the end, and I have to steel myself to the fact that I’ve now still got another 12 miles to go. It was when I saw the roadblock sign and we turned back onto County HH that I knew my fate.
And then it’s just a matter of time, my friends. You can see the stinking Mound wherever you are. At least 5 times while looking at it, I flipped it off, sometimes punctuated with a big “FUCK YOU!” Because the thing is just standing there, looming, laughing at you because you are such a dumbass and will ride up the whore even though you could circle the bottom and end up at your nice, cushy car.
Well, I had hoped to break 9 hours on the day, but with the extra miles, I knew that wasn’t going to happen, but I was secretly pretty damn pleased with myself because I had done the ACTUALLY ONLY 200K ride 2 years ago in 10:03. It was looking like I was going to make my second goal of 9:15, which was reasonable, considering the extra miles.
As I approached Mounds Park Road, I decided I would dump out my bottles so I was as light as possible climbing. This is the first year where I have never once had a thought that I would like to be any lighter in weight myself. Even last year, there were many times while climbing where I thought that 5 lbs. lighter would be nice. Not anymore!
So I start dumping bottles, and I flipped the top off one of my water bottles which is a Headhunters bottle that I got from a guy named Dino that I met in Brazil last year who lives in Madison. I was so pissed, but it was merrily swimming its way down a little brook, and I had a job to finish.
I was wondering if I’d be able to make the entire climb without walking. At this point, the sun had come burning out, and right as I started the ascent, I said to a pair of riders, “Thank GOD it’s hot and sunny out now!” They got my sarcasm, and we had a good laugh. It was about now that I was thinking that Lori was probably finished. I guessed she’d finish in about 8:30, and hoped she wasn’t too angry waiting for my sorry ass.
So I am climbing Mounds Park, and now I just ignore the Ergomo, because it doesn’t matter. What matters is not stopping and not falling over, because there are few places where you could actually stop your bike without falling over backwards. So I start to have visions in my head of just rolling backwards down the hill, but those visions are quashed by the sensations in my legs, which are now pretty much feelin’ it. I am proud that I haven’t bailed so far, but man, this is getting fucking HARD. The climb is 2.9 miles, and they even have races up the stinking whore, which someday I should do. I wonder how it would feel to not have already gone 127 miles?
As I’m going up, believe it or not, I am passing people who had whizzed by me a few miles back, which at the time, I thought, “Good for you!” I mean either they are just faster than me or else they will suffer more than me on the grand finale, because I’m tiny and climb pretty well for a girl. There’s a guy in front of me who is looking good, and I’m thinking he can stay ahead of me, but when he shouts out (because he knows I’m behind him), “that’s the end of the gears,” I realize I’m not in the 27 yet, and I kerchunk it in and feel like I’m going to be OK. And then I pass him, and he says, “Awesome job!” And I say back to him, “You, too!”
Because we are all awesome and we are all sweaty pigs and the sweat is just streaming off of us at this point and the bugs don’t even want to land on you anymore and we know how stupid we are and we know how much fun we’ve been having and that it’s all going to be over soon enough so just hang in there and turn the fucking pedals and keep cranking and don’t look too far ahead because it’s getting steeper and your quads are burning up and feel like exhausted pistons and you think you might not be able to make it and you see some people who are walking their bikes and you think THAT IS NOT GOING TO BE ME I CAN SEE THE TOP OF THE NEXT RISE AND MAKE IT THERE and you keep cranking and I’m maybe ½ mile from the top and here comes Lori to fetch me and she asks if I want a ride, and I say NO FUCKING WAY that I’m going all the way and I’ll see her at the bottom of the hill. But man it was so cool that she turned around and drove next to me for a bit and kept telling me how great I was doing and I really felt like I had done a great job and I was all smiles, and then I finally hit top, turned left (I bagged the final 900-feet of HELL and we wanted to get the hell out of Dodge) and began screaming down the hill. 2 guys in a car pulled up next to me and said, “The finish line is the other way,” and I said, “Been there, done that!” and I let go the brakes completely and flew down, full well knowing I was holding up traffic behind me. Or not. I was probably going 35 to 45mph.
And I got to the van, and Lori grabbed my bike for me and put it away and handed me a cold, wet towel to towel off, and I asked her what her time was, and it was 8:35. She’s such a stud! And then I told her I went 9:19, which was a serious chunk of time off my previous best, and I felt like a stud, too (Lori’s 44 and I’m 50), and Lori drove off and we hit the road, and we talked nonstop the entire way back. I did request a stop for McDonald’s at the Belvedere Oasis, and I got 2 cheeseburgers and fries. Lori didn’t want to eat real food since she was going out for dinner with Marc, and because she’s trying to lose weight! Now, you look at photos of her and you think she doesn’t need to lose an ounce, but I’ve been there myself, so I know.
For those of you interested in the power stuff, here's my data:
Duration: 9:19:34
Work: 4682 kJ (that's CALORIES for those of you without power meters)
TSS: 748 (intensity factor 0.896) (for reference sake, an Ironman ride should be about TSS 300)
Norm Power: 167
VI: 1.19
Distance: 131.933 mi
Elevation Gain: 10853 ft
We got back to Lori’s house, moved my crap to my car and I drove home with this shit-faced grin. I thought it was just 3 weeks ago I pounded out Triple T and now this, and I think I’m going to be in some great shape for Lake Placid, or at least it looks good on paper!
I want to thank Lori so much for driving and also for being my inspiration to stay on top of my personal goals for the day and for listening to me babble about some stuff I can’t write about here—it’s our secret—and just getting to know her better. She’s an incredible woman, and I think a Kona slot is in her future.
Back home, I was so wired from all the caffeine and just from, well, YOU KNOW! I had a couple 2 or 3 beers, a little food (I really wasn’t that hungry), set my A/C down to 70 because I knew my body would be having temperature control issues, and then slept fitfully as I had to pee like 10 times and drink water, but hey, it’s all good. I am about to go for a little ½ hour swim just to move around a bit, and then I’m taking my Dad out to lunch for Father’s Day. I’m happy I didn’t stay overnight in Verona so I could do all this today. I also need to go grocery shopping and, big surprise, clean and mix fucking bottles!
So I guess that in addition to calling me Crackhead, you can now also call me Sexy Bitch!
Photos can be viewed here: http://www.flickr.com/photos/8737154@N04/sets/72157600380989626/
I made the trip with my friend, Lori, who also raced Triple T 3 weeks ago (and handily won the coed team division with her SO, Marc). Lori graciously volunteered to drive her van, but we would be leaving directly after the ride on Saturday rather than staying overnight.
Back up to Thursday. I had an outstanding 2:30 run, covering 16.5 miles. I have never felt so good on such a long training run. The workout protocol had me warming up easy for :30, then moving into Z2 and upper Z3 (half marathon pace) work. I ran in my favorite place, Waterfall Glen, which happens to be adjacent to Argonne National Laboratory, so I am getting in my extra protons and neutrons while there! That day, the way I controlled my pace was by paying acute attention to my breathing. I still had some soreness in my left serratus and upper intercostals from the run crash the week before, and labored breathing, coughing and laughing still made my ribcage hurt. So for the easy pace stuff, my mantra was “barely breathing,” which translated to about a 10:00/mile pace. Z2 I pegged as “breathing a little bit,” and that came out to about a 9:30/mile pace, and the half marathon breathing pattern was “definitely breathing,” for a pace of about 8:50/mile. For reference sake, tempo pace would be “breathing a lot.” It was the first time I was so in touch with my breathing, and it was amazing how it translated to the correct paces for me. The actual paces I ran varied due to the terrain, which is rolling hills. During the run, I had 3 deer jump across the path in front of me, I assisted one painted turtle across the path (to avoid being run over by cyclists), I saw a bluebird up close and personal, and I ran into a guy I know from the Y. Chris was on his hybrid, and I took a few minutes to stop and chat with him when I was about 9 miles into the run. He asked how much I was running, and when I told him, he said (like he says to me regularly), “When do you take easy days?” I told him that usually Mondays and Fridays were “easy” for me (Monday is usually a swim and a form run and Friday is a swim and perhaps a short run). I told him I thought I actually had a couple of easy rides on my schedule, and we could try and do one of those together. He’s a much faster runner than me, but nowhere near as fast a cyclist. I’d date him, except that I think he prefers less active bimbos. Once he said to me point blank that I would be a hard woman to date because of my drive. Nice, huh? Oh well, it is what it is.
I took Friday off from work. Rich hadn’t scheduled any workouts for me, but I was certain I’d do a swim, and contemplated a short, easy run, just to see what’s what after Thursday’s run, plus I wanted to get in 4 runs for the week. I swam 3200 yards at 7:00AM, and wore a 2-piece swimsuit, so I could just take off the bottom and put on running shorts and head out right from the Y. It made me smile because for a few years, I did my swim/run workouts back to back during the summer, and would always be running out with a wet, cool top! I decided to only run :30, and to try and run real easy, so again, I focused on “barely breathing.” I ended up running about 9:30/mile, which I rarely do outside of long runs. Within 2 minutes, I ran into Larry, who is an awesome runner that I know from the Y, who is doing his first century ride this fall and wants to borrow my bike box. He had put on a little weight (but he has never by any stretch been fat) about a year ago, but he’s totally leaned out, and he was on his bike as we chatted. I told him I got a new bike, and he guessed its cost at $3,000, and I laughed at him. Anyway, it was nice to see him, because usually he runs on the treadmill (go figure), so I don’t see much of him in the spring through fall. Since he was heading TO the Y and I would need to circle back to retrieve my crap, I decided I’d write my contact information down for him and pass it to him, which I did, as he was on the treadmill. I thoroughly enjoyed my short run, and my legs didn’t feel bad at all. As always, I got all sorts of stares, as I was sporting my low-cut Desoto shorts. I have just gotten used to running in those, as they are extremely comfortable for me. Yeah, I have washboard abs and it makes people (men AND women) look, and that’s cool. I’m a bit of an exhibitionist (stop laughing right now!). Side note: during my Wednesday run, while dressed in a similar fashion, a woman driving a truck looked at me and flipped me off! How sad and angry she must be to do that. I was clear on the opposite side of the road up on the sidewalk climbing a hill. Usually I get a few whistles from men, so this was unexpected.
I finished swimming and running by about 9:00AM, which gave me time to do some house cleaning (the incessant bottle manipulation continues) and pack. In the process, I knew I had better start loading up on the carbs, so I drank some Endurox R4, a can of guava juice, and ate 1.5 bananas. I couldn’t choke down the whole second banana, as I could feel my insulin spiking as it was, and I already had about 700 calories worth of carbs in my tummy. I hadn’t worked out enough to need that much, and my eating automatically adjusts to my workout load; however, when I have a big day following, my brain puts me into calorie acquisition mode. I figure I had blasted through all my glycogen stores on Thursday and was probably a bit in the hole from a short swim and run, so the stocking began.
I arrived at Lori’s Friday afternoon around 2:45PM. She was all packed and ready to go, so we transferred my bike, 2 bags and 2 coolers to her van and we took off, after making a quick stop to get gasoline.
Let me tell you, I consider myself pretty high energy, but Miss Lori seems to be in the stratosphere to me sometimes! She is younger than me with 5 boys (ages 10-21), she’s a really fast triathlete (my idol) who trains even more than I do, and she’s going to school for her nursing degree. Needless to say, she and I have some extremely animated discussions. Lori’s Italian, to boot, so you have blond Italian chic and blond Croatian chic both talking with not only their hands, but their entire arms!
We made good time to Verona, Wisconsin (where our hotel was), and decided to continue on to Mt. Horeb to pick up our ride packets. Mt. Horeb is only another 11 miles west of Verona. On the way there, we were both looking at the beautiful countryside, since we’ve both done Ironman Wisconsin, and go up there to train quite often.
Packets in tow, we headed back to Verona to check into the hotel. I will be staying there twice more this summer with different people, so I am sure the front desk woman will start to recognize me! We dropped our bags (bikes were left in the van), and headed to dinner.
Lori had forgot to pack bottles and gels for her nutrition. She was concerned about getting this stuff, and I told her not to worry we’d get it under control. We went to the store, "World of Variety," first (note to self: need to go shop there--they have a lot of campy looking stuff!), but they were closing, and told us they didn’t carry empty bottles, so we went to Walgreen’s. Walgreens had some cheap bottles that would do the trick, even though Lori was worried they would be too big for her Profile cages in the XLAB. I told her they would fit (she doesn’t know another nickname of mine is “Volume Queen”), and that we’d snag gels en route on Saturday. While she was shopping for necessities, I browsed the toy aisle (I tell you the Verona Walgreen’s ROCKS!) and picked up two bouncy things that light up and are rainbow colors (yes, I am such a little kid in many ways).
Next, we headed to dinner at the one sit-down restaurant in Verona, Avanti’s. I had been there before on a training expedition, and I knew they had decent food. As we walked into the dining area, it was obvious there were a lot of other cyclists eating there, some of which one or the other or both of us knew. I initially met Lori through a guy named Dan who I met once when I captained a team for Hustle up the Hancock, when another guy I knew, Jim, recruited Dan (who’s an awesome fast climber) for the team, and as Lori told me yesterday, Dan told her she needed to meet me because we were very similar.
Anyway, Lori ordered a glass of wine and I got a Bell’s Oberon, which was tasty. They had Blue Moon, but I had that at home, and the waitress said to go with the Bell’s, which is brewed in Michigan. We decided to order a pizza, and what we asked for was pepperoni, garlic and tomatoes. What we got, and ate anyway, was pepperoni, sausage, garlic and pepperoncini! We both like the pepperoncini, but they were a bit much on the pizza. Still, we ate a good deal of a large, and I took the 2 remaining slices for later. It seems that I eat the most of anyone I train with lately!
We went back to the hotel, where we got ice for our coolers, laid out our outfits for the next day, and then tried to relax. Lori had brought along some paperwork, and I was amazed at how she kept at things, while I was basically just laying around, so I did get on the floor to stretch for about :20. All the while, we are talking, and of course, watching the Weather Channel. The forecast called for high 80’s with afternoon thunderstorms, and the little local map had the thunder clouds everywhere in the area. Oh well, what are you going to do.
I had brought temporary tattoos with me, and showed Lori the selection. She opted for the hibiscus flower ring (that I bought in Kona the last time I was there—sigh—I need to get back somehow), and I opted for the thorn ring for an arm and a death skull for one of my calves. Note to self: need to find some more good temporary tattoos for the next few weeks and also for Ironman Lake Placid—I am not sure what I would like to sport there.
We decided we’d get up at 4:45AM and shoot for a 6:45AM start. Technically, the ride starts at 7:00AM, but there was no chip timing this time, so as long as you have a map, why would you wait around until 7, especially when it was hot and humid and just going to get hotter and more humid?
Well, with all the pizza in my tummy (I managed to eat the toppings off the last 2 slices) and the excitement of knowing what we were going to do the next day, and the fact that I generally haven’t been sleeping much past 4AM lately, I awoke at my usual 3:30AM because my body had processed the food (draw your own conclusions here). I got back into bed, and just lay there, knowing it wasn’t long until it was wake up time. At 4AM, I heard Lori stir, so I just asked her if she was awake and could we get moving. She was cool with it, laughing at me for being so excited, and I clicked the coffee pot (which I had set the night before) to on, let Lori languish while it brewed, turned on the TV (it was brilliant that it automatically tuned to the Weather Channel), and took a look outside.
I saw some clouds, which was probably a good thing, and then Lori got up, we had coffee and our breakfast, and then I pulled out my pre-mixed Ultrafuel and drank it. At that moment, I realized I had a “normal” bottle that Lori could use for her bike, which made her very happy. I had another bottle from the ride bag, so Lori ended up not using the Franken bottles from Walgreen’s. I had pre-mixed 2 bottles of Infinit. Each bottle contained about 900 calories (and I wrote “CALORIES” on the generic bottles!), and I would also carry 2 smaller bottles in my jersey for plain water to chase it with. All the while we are setting up, we are taking turns sighing and making various noises, and we laughed at one another whenever we caught each other in a sigh. We also both talk to ourselves out loud while we are getting ready, saying stuff like, "OK," "All right," and "Huh." Cracks me up!
We suited up and left at 5:30 for Blue Mounds, which is where the ride begins. On the way there, we could see the big ball of a sun rising, and we knew it would be a warm day. We smiled watching the terrain get progressively hillier.
We got a primo parking spot right across from the little store at the base on Mounds Park Road, right next to porta-potties. We got our stuff ready, I had a guy who had never done the ride before snap a few photos, and we were off and rolling at 6:19AM.
Lori is a brutally strong rider, and I didn’t want to hold her back (I’m a big girl), but we both agreed we’d stay together for the first 2 stages, in case either of us decided to bag the 200K and just do 100K. This was good for both of us because we both kept ourselves in check.
The ride is organized in “stages,” or perhaps we should call them degrees of difficulty, as the climbing progresses from hardly any on Stage 1 to what the fucking hell idiocy in Stages 4 and 5. Each stage is 20+ miles long, and each one changes your concept of mileage!
During the first stage, you do the 2.9-mile Mounds Park Road climb, after they take you away from the mound for some easy flat to rolling riding. The first time you make the ascent, it doesn’t feel so bad, but then you know you are going to do it again like 115 miles later and that it won’t feel so good then. Anyway, we climbed it easily and then made the big descent back to where we started and it was close to 7:00AM and there were lots of riders congregating to begin their days.
Some girls I know spotted me and said hello, but Lori and I were all about getting on with the day (and those girls were probably just doing the 100K), but there weren’t good markings for where we were supposed to go. I spotted a guy with “VOLUNTEER” on the back of his shirt sporting a Viking hat, and yelled at him, “HEY VOLUNTEER!” He was up on stairs to a bar and ignored us, but a woman on the ground pointed us in the right direction and we were off.
The first stage isn’t bad at all, aside from the Mounds Park Road climb. You can see the map here. Basically, you circle around Route 78, managing to go up every stinking climb on either side of it, passing through the Town of Vermont all day long. Moen Vally and Scherbel have some climbing, but it’s not bad at all. The stage ends at Festge Park, though, which is up a fairly steep climb that sucks donkey balls, because you go a bit downhill before crossing the busy Route 14, where you hope you don’t have to full stop before ascending. We got lucky, as the nice policeman was holding traffic for us!
Rest stop 1 was basically fill up water bottles, grab some gels and go. I also grabbed a banana, but could only choke down ½ of it. Since we had started early, they were pretty much just setting up the rest station, and while I looked around at a lot of the food, I didn’t really want any. The Infinit was doing its job.
You leave Festge Park the same way you came in after Stage 1, meaning you get to scream downhill while watching others climb slowly. The first bad climb in Stage 2 is Barlow Road, and I remember it fondly from the last 3 times I’ve done this ride. As soon as I saw the road sign, I shouted to everyone within earshot, “I remember Barlow—this one really sucks!” Lori is yelling at me to shut up already, and I keep telling her, “I’m just saying.” But, it was during this first suck-ass climb that both Lori and I are happy for having done Triple T just 3 weeks prior, which featured tons of nasty-ass climbing, so our legs were primed for this shit.
Barlow Road is bad enough, but then they top you off (or should I say pop you off?) with part of Mineral Point Road. Now, do the math people—names of roads that have any of the following words in them cannot be good: Point, View, Ridge, Hollow, Valley, Mound, High and Pinnacle. Horribly Hilly features all those and more! You wouldn’t think something called Barlow Road or Zwettler Road would be bad, but they are as well!
Anyway, Stage 2 ends up at Festge Park again, so you get to climb into the rest stop again. On the way up this time, I heard a rider calling out her watts at 260, and a guy behind her called out 250, and I started laughing and shouted out my watts, which were only 209, yet I was climbing at about the same speed as them! I fucking love being small! I had been trying to cap my climbing watts around 210, and if I could climb on less, I would do it whenever I could. There were a few short and really steep climbs where I ignored the Ergomo, but glanced once or twice and saw between 250 and 300. Whatever—nothing you can do about those short and steep ones (OK, shut up Rich if you read this). A girl has got to have some fun, right?
I had just opened an Espresso Love Gu (for some reason I thought I should add 100 calories for the fun of it) and stuck it in my mouth, and this guy I’ve known a few years comes up and picks me up in his arms, and I’m trying to scream, “JOHN!” but I have this gel in my mouth, so we had a huge hug, he put me down, I sucked down the Gu, and we caught up quickly. John is a hottie (sadly, he’s engaged to be married, but I’m happy for him) that I’ve ridden with in the past and we just seem to run into one another a lot during the summer. Wait—that’s most of the people I know. My world keeps getting smaller, but that’s a good thing. I think it was 2 years ago I was riding by myself on a group ride wearing a swimsuit bottom (it was very hot), and from behind I hear a guy screaming, “I’d recognize that ass anywhere!” It was John, and we laughed and rode together for awhile until I got stung in the forehead by a rogue bee, at which point I started cursing, but it was OK, since we were near an aid station where I demanded ice while the bee venom coursed through me (like I need another reason to be even more wired).
John asked me if I was riding 100K or 200K, and of course I looked at him like what a silly question, of course I’m riding 200K today! I told him about Triple T and told him he could read my race reports or go to my blog, and I guess this was the first time I told him my nickname is Crackhead, and he just looked at me and said, “It figures.”
So I’m catching up with John, and Lori comes over, and I introduce everyone and then Lori and I took off to begin Stage 3. Stage 3 features my favorite part of the ride—an area known as Enchanted Valley. I don’t believe it’s the actual name of a town. It sure is beautiful in there, and while in it (knowing full well that since you are in a valley that you will need to CLIMB THE FUCK OUT) you can see the surrounding hills in relief against one another. It really is enchanting!
There are a few “bad” climbs in Stage 3, but to me and Lori, it is still feeling quite manageable. I hadn’t stood up on any climbs, and didn’t want to, because if I didn’t stabilize myself exactly right (I did try it once), my left ribcage would hurt like a sonofabitch. We got to some fork where you could decide to bag the 200K and just do 100K, and Lori turned to me to ask me if I wanted to cut it short, and I said nope. After that, some guys rode up on us, and one guy says, “Sheila?” And I say yes, and he says it’s Mike of 3Iron. We had never met in person, but he said he recognized my bike from the photos on my blog. That was cool meeting him, and we all rode together for a bit, before I could sense Lori wanting to go hang with the fast boys, so I shooed her on.
I rolled into the Black Earth (home of the awesome restaurant, Heiney’s) rest station not too long after Lori and the boys, and here I saw John again. You get a little crazed doing these rides with all this climbing, especially when it’s stinking hot and humid. We all looked like wet rats or something. So as I’m taking a cold, wet towel to my face, I ask John why am I not getting any love from all these men? And he says it’s because I ride too fast. I told him there are plenty of guys who ride faster than me, but then again there are plenty who ride slower than me, and I shared how on one ride a guy asked me whether men I date need to be faster than me. I thought it was an odd question, but John laughed at me and said, “Well, they at least need to be able to hang with you.” John accused me of being a shameless flirt, but truthfully I don’t think I am—I really don’t know how. I just do what I do and be who I am, and if that comes off as flirtatious, oh well!
Lori took off from Black Earth ahead of me, which was fine by me, since I wanted to let her ride her own ride, even though I felt like I was riding within myself and doing pretty well on the day. Stage 4 is where you begin to notice whether you’ve been pacing yourself properly, as it’s loaded up with fucking hard climbs. The first one is Midland Road, which while on, kept reminding me of the infamous Midtown Road that’s on the Ironman Wisconsin course. But I couldn’t remember the name of the Ironman course road name for awhile, so I began scrolling Mid this and that in my head. I find it entertaining the things my brain does while I’m doing this shit. At any rate, I’m noticing that my legs don’t feel bad at all—I guess doing 80-mile and 104-mile rides back to back last weekend was a good thing.
I think it was on Midland Road that John and his crew rode up on me from behind, and John yells at me really loudly, “YOU SEXY BITCH!!!” As he rode up on me, I shouted, “Now that’s what I’m talkin’ about!” That kept me going for miles, for some reason.
Midland Road sucked (but I kept smiling because, hey, I’m a sexy bitch!), and then we got to Fesenfeld Road, which also sucked, and THEN Sutcliffe Road which was pretty bad, but next up was Zwettler Road. So you see, during this stage, they are just piling it on you, one after the other, with hardly any rest in between. Although I will say, I appreciated the descents a lot this year, and would do them in mad bomber mode, topping out at 45MPH on many of them. I can only imagine how fast some bigger guys went!
Anyway, Zwettler Road is a stinking, fucking whore. It has, I think, a series of 4 climbs. The first one is bad, the second one is fucking bad and the last two are really bad. On the second one, the steepest of the bunch, I was just pissed, and decided, what the fuck, I’m standing on this one. So I stood up, and my ribcage hurt, and I didn’t care, and I was yelling, “You stupid, stinking, fucking whore” while doing it. Some guy climbed about the same rate as me, and when we got to the brief reprieve before the next step and started up again, he laughed at me and said he was hearing other expletives all day, after I apologized for my little outburst.
There’s more shit on Stage 4 after Zwettler Road, and by this time you are starting to want this to be over, but I knew from years past, that Stage 5 is where the rubber meets the road. When you roll into the last rest station, which is just on the side of a road—no park, nothing fancy—you begin to see how the day is wearing on people. Some are laying on the ground moaning, many have this crazed look in their eyes thinking that they had just finished 100 miles of crap that felt like 200 miles and aren’t sure whether they can go on. I was just hoping they had hard-boiled eggs! In years past they did, but this time they cheesed out at the rest stations, and didn’t have them. But they did have make-your-own sandwiches, so I took a piece of good, old white bread, slapped on a big slice of turkey breast (they were HUGE slices), and stuffed my face. I just felt like I needed a bit of protein, but then I knew I’d have to chill for a few minutes, since once you roll out of this rest station, they fuck you in the ass by sending you up Pinnacle Road, and the last thing you need is to have a belly full of food and Gatorade or Infinit or whatever crap you are using.
So I see John with his buds here, and just because I was getting a bit giddy, I go up to him and say, “What did you say to me back there?” even though I knew what it was--I just wanted to hear him say it again. And he says, matter-of-factly, “I called you a Sexy Bitch.” And one of his buddies smiles broadly at me and says, “And that’s a compliment!” I already knew it was, and we all started laughing and making our decisions about moving on. I think I took off before those boys.
Secretly, I was hoping they had taken Pinnacle Road out of the ride, and for some reason, I was thinking there was no fucking way I was doing it and that I would walk my bike up. I have no clue why my brain was giving me this grief. Literally, you go .2 miles out of the last rest station, and then it’s a right turn, kiss your ass goodbye, here’s Pinnacle Road! Pinnacle Road is 2.5 miles of blissful, stinking, fucking crap, capped off with the worst crap you can imagine (unless you’ve done the infamous Shop Hill Road in the Dairyland Dare). At least it starts out not so bad, progressing to bad, really bad, and finally really, fucking, stinking bad you think you are going to fall over on your bike and that you can’t turn the pedals anymore because you are going nearly vertical.
But I did it, shouting, “FUCK YOU I’M NOT WALKING” to myself as I passed people on the way up, and when I did, we would quietly say to one another, “Good Job!” I mean, anyone climbing this shit is doing a great job, don’t you think?
Well, you wish that Pinnacle Road was the end of the crap, but if you’ve done the ride before, you know it isn’t, and you have this pit in your stomach that is just waiting for the bottom to fall out before you start climbing again. I started thinking about Barneveld, remembering there is a bad climb into that town, and then of course, the grand finale, climbing 2.9 miles up fucking Mounds Park Road for the second time just to let you know your legs are fucking toasted.
But there’s some not so bad stuff after Pinnacle Road, but now I’m thinking, wait, this ride is supposed to be 200K and we are not yet to Barneveld and then it’s a ways to Mounds Park Road, so how many fucking miles are they making us do today? On any other day, extra mileage is welcome. Not today!
In the brief respite stretch we get after Pinnacle Road, what jumps into my brain but Steve Martin? I have his first recorded record, “Let’s Get Small,” and there’s a routine on there where he says: “Sometimes people come up to me and say, Steve—how did you get so fuckin’ funny?” And I just keep rolling this over and over in my head, laughing out loud, smiling, and it amazes me that through all this crap that I am still laughing and having a great time. I alternate that with thoughts of “what the hell is wrong with me?” I wonder if other people go through similar thought processes when doing this shit. I think the dilemma of whether this is fun or stupid is the classic endurance ethos. I truly believe there ought to be a race that includes “fun AND stupid!” in its advertising. You’d get everybody and their brother signing up for that shit.
Well, we get to Lake View Road, which ostensibly, starts out as quite pretty. But, you know, it has the word “view” in it, so it can’t be good. It was here that I started to experience almost feeling like I couldn’t put out the 200-210 climbing watts that I thought I now needed. But I figured what the hell, I am still making it up, so I changed my perspective to thinking that I was saving it for the grand finale, and in fact I was! I hadn’t walked, I hadn’t stood up except on that stinking whore of a climb on Zwettler Road, I was 100% on my nutrition (calories are wonderful!), but now I was ready to get this show off the road. So while on Lake View (which is still a whore in my book), I’m wondering where is fucking Barneveld, and hoping maybe it was wiped off the map by a tornado. One year that actually almost happened in Barneveld, so it was no coincidence that my brain picked that scenario.
Well, I begin to scan the horizon for the Barneveld water tower, and pretty soon I am seeing it and figure I’m fucked. Sorry, Barneveld still exists, and you still need to climb the hell into it. It hurt like a mofo, and then I began thinking how much longer until Mounds Park Road? It was here that I heard someone say that the ride would end up being 130 miles today because of some construction bypass. What the fuck? WHAT THE FUCK???
So I look at my odometer, and sure enough, I’m in fucking Barneveld and I’m already at 118 miles and I know there’s more than 6 normally to the end, and I have to steel myself to the fact that I’ve now still got another 12 miles to go. It was when I saw the roadblock sign and we turned back onto County HH that I knew my fate.
And then it’s just a matter of time, my friends. You can see the stinking Mound wherever you are. At least 5 times while looking at it, I flipped it off, sometimes punctuated with a big “FUCK YOU!” Because the thing is just standing there, looming, laughing at you because you are such a dumbass and will ride up the whore even though you could circle the bottom and end up at your nice, cushy car.
Well, I had hoped to break 9 hours on the day, but with the extra miles, I knew that wasn’t going to happen, but I was secretly pretty damn pleased with myself because I had done the ACTUALLY ONLY 200K ride 2 years ago in 10:03. It was looking like I was going to make my second goal of 9:15, which was reasonable, considering the extra miles.
As I approached Mounds Park Road, I decided I would dump out my bottles so I was as light as possible climbing. This is the first year where I have never once had a thought that I would like to be any lighter in weight myself. Even last year, there were many times while climbing where I thought that 5 lbs. lighter would be nice. Not anymore!
So I start dumping bottles, and I flipped the top off one of my water bottles which is a Headhunters bottle that I got from a guy named Dino that I met in Brazil last year who lives in Madison. I was so pissed, but it was merrily swimming its way down a little brook, and I had a job to finish.
I was wondering if I’d be able to make the entire climb without walking. At this point, the sun had come burning out, and right as I started the ascent, I said to a pair of riders, “Thank GOD it’s hot and sunny out now!” They got my sarcasm, and we had a good laugh. It was about now that I was thinking that Lori was probably finished. I guessed she’d finish in about 8:30, and hoped she wasn’t too angry waiting for my sorry ass.
So I am climbing Mounds Park, and now I just ignore the Ergomo, because it doesn’t matter. What matters is not stopping and not falling over, because there are few places where you could actually stop your bike without falling over backwards. So I start to have visions in my head of just rolling backwards down the hill, but those visions are quashed by the sensations in my legs, which are now pretty much feelin’ it. I am proud that I haven’t bailed so far, but man, this is getting fucking HARD. The climb is 2.9 miles, and they even have races up the stinking whore, which someday I should do. I wonder how it would feel to not have already gone 127 miles?
As I’m going up, believe it or not, I am passing people who had whizzed by me a few miles back, which at the time, I thought, “Good for you!” I mean either they are just faster than me or else they will suffer more than me on the grand finale, because I’m tiny and climb pretty well for a girl. There’s a guy in front of me who is looking good, and I’m thinking he can stay ahead of me, but when he shouts out (because he knows I’m behind him), “that’s the end of the gears,” I realize I’m not in the 27 yet, and I kerchunk it in and feel like I’m going to be OK. And then I pass him, and he says, “Awesome job!” And I say back to him, “You, too!”
Because we are all awesome and we are all sweaty pigs and the sweat is just streaming off of us at this point and the bugs don’t even want to land on you anymore and we know how stupid we are and we know how much fun we’ve been having and that it’s all going to be over soon enough so just hang in there and turn the fucking pedals and keep cranking and don’t look too far ahead because it’s getting steeper and your quads are burning up and feel like exhausted pistons and you think you might not be able to make it and you see some people who are walking their bikes and you think THAT IS NOT GOING TO BE ME I CAN SEE THE TOP OF THE NEXT RISE AND MAKE IT THERE and you keep cranking and I’m maybe ½ mile from the top and here comes Lori to fetch me and she asks if I want a ride, and I say NO FUCKING WAY that I’m going all the way and I’ll see her at the bottom of the hill. But man it was so cool that she turned around and drove next to me for a bit and kept telling me how great I was doing and I really felt like I had done a great job and I was all smiles, and then I finally hit top, turned left (I bagged the final 900-feet of HELL and we wanted to get the hell out of Dodge) and began screaming down the hill. 2 guys in a car pulled up next to me and said, “The finish line is the other way,” and I said, “Been there, done that!” and I let go the brakes completely and flew down, full well knowing I was holding up traffic behind me. Or not. I was probably going 35 to 45mph.
And I got to the van, and Lori grabbed my bike for me and put it away and handed me a cold, wet towel to towel off, and I asked her what her time was, and it was 8:35. She’s such a stud! And then I told her I went 9:19, which was a serious chunk of time off my previous best, and I felt like a stud, too (Lori’s 44 and I’m 50), and Lori drove off and we hit the road, and we talked nonstop the entire way back. I did request a stop for McDonald’s at the Belvedere Oasis, and I got 2 cheeseburgers and fries. Lori didn’t want to eat real food since she was going out for dinner with Marc, and because she’s trying to lose weight! Now, you look at photos of her and you think she doesn’t need to lose an ounce, but I’ve been there myself, so I know.
For those of you interested in the power stuff, here's my data:
Duration: 9:19:34
Work: 4682 kJ (that's CALORIES for those of you without power meters)
TSS: 748 (intensity factor 0.896) (for reference sake, an Ironman ride should be about TSS 300)
Norm Power: 167
VI: 1.19
Distance: 131.933 mi
Elevation Gain: 10853 ft
We got back to Lori’s house, moved my crap to my car and I drove home with this shit-faced grin. I thought it was just 3 weeks ago I pounded out Triple T and now this, and I think I’m going to be in some great shape for Lake Placid, or at least it looks good on paper!
I want to thank Lori so much for driving and also for being my inspiration to stay on top of my personal goals for the day and for listening to me babble about some stuff I can’t write about here—it’s our secret—and just getting to know her better. She’s an incredible woman, and I think a Kona slot is in her future.
Back home, I was so wired from all the caffeine and just from, well, YOU KNOW! I had a couple 2 or 3 beers, a little food (I really wasn’t that hungry), set my A/C down to 70 because I knew my body would be having temperature control issues, and then slept fitfully as I had to pee like 10 times and drink water, but hey, it’s all good. I am about to go for a little ½ hour swim just to move around a bit, and then I’m taking my Dad out to lunch for Father’s Day. I’m happy I didn’t stay overnight in Verona so I could do all this today. I also need to go grocery shopping and, big surprise, clean and mix fucking bottles!
So I guess that in addition to calling me Crackhead, you can now also call me Sexy Bitch!
Thursday, June 14, 2007
Triple T Race Report - It's Finished!
Installment 1: http://www.trifuel.com/training/general/american-triple-t-an-epic-race-report-for-an-epic-race
Installment 2: http://www.trifuel.com/training/general/american-triple-t-an-epic-race-report-part-2
Installment 3: http://www.trifuel.com/training/general/american-triple-t-an-epic-race-report-part-3
Installment 4: http://www.trifuel.com/training/general/american-triple-t-an-epic-race-report-part-4
Installment 5: http://www.trifuel.com/training/general/american-triple-t-an-epic-race-report-part-5
Installment 6: http://www.trifuel.com/training/general/american-triple-t-an-epic-race-report-part-6
If you just want to look at the pictures, they are here:
Race 1: (sorry no evidence)
Race 2: http://flickr.com/photos/8737154@N04/sets/72157600332655691/
Race 3: http://flickr.com/photos/8737154@N04/sets/72157600336898968/
Race 4: http://flickr.com/photos/8737154@N04/sets/72157600336937280/
Installment 2: http://www.trifuel.com/training/general/american-triple-t-an-epic-race-report-part-2
Installment 3: http://www.trifuel.com/training/general/american-triple-t-an-epic-race-report-part-3
Installment 4: http://www.trifuel.com/training/general/american-triple-t-an-epic-race-report-part-4
Installment 5: http://www.trifuel.com/training/general/american-triple-t-an-epic-race-report-part-5
Installment 6: http://www.trifuel.com/training/general/american-triple-t-an-epic-race-report-part-6
If you just want to look at the pictures, they are here:
Race 1: (sorry no evidence)
Race 2: http://flickr.com/photos/8737154@N04/sets/72157600332655691/
Race 3: http://flickr.com/photos/8737154@N04/sets/72157600336898968/
Race 4: http://flickr.com/photos/8737154@N04/sets/72157600336937280/
aaaaaaaaaAAAAAAHHHHHHHHH!!!!!
Thanks for letting me get that scream out!
It's that time when I'm in it--the BIG training, the "I better start thinking about this fucking Ironman I said I'd do," the "don't do anything stupid or get hurt," the "work is becoming totally annoying," the "I feel like I'm being overstimulated" time.
But I feel totally great, mentally and physically. I don't think I've ever felt more at home in my mind and body, or felt so sure of who I am. My new friend, Ling, that I met at the YMCA and with whom I've swapped plants (and I've also given her swim caps--I have piles of them) said to me yesterday as I was waxing exuberant about some birds in my yard that my heart is very full of love. I think Ling was sent to me to be a mirror into my own soul.
It's interesting that it's been a regular occurrence throughout my life to leave an impression with others of confidence almost to the point of arrogance, that they sometimes classify as "intimidation." Yet there are a few hardy souls who see beyond that and welcome all that is me, over the top tendencies and all, and Ling is helping me to see that I am just very full and spilling over. I work every day at channeling all that fullness, and feel like I'm allocating pretty well, even though at times it truly feels like all I do is eat, sleep, train and talk about those things. I'm managing to fit in more and feel more and be more.
I am never sure what forces are at work in the universe that provide me with such blessings--it's surely a combination of hard work, seized opportunities, an openness to alternate perspectives and some other magic ingredients that I can't put my finger on. Maybe there really is something to riding and running in nuclear research facilities!
Life is truly excellent!
It's that time when I'm in it--the BIG training, the "I better start thinking about this fucking Ironman I said I'd do," the "don't do anything stupid or get hurt," the "work is becoming totally annoying," the "I feel like I'm being overstimulated" time.
But I feel totally great, mentally and physically. I don't think I've ever felt more at home in my mind and body, or felt so sure of who I am. My new friend, Ling, that I met at the YMCA and with whom I've swapped plants (and I've also given her swim caps--I have piles of them) said to me yesterday as I was waxing exuberant about some birds in my yard that my heart is very full of love. I think Ling was sent to me to be a mirror into my own soul.
It's interesting that it's been a regular occurrence throughout my life to leave an impression with others of confidence almost to the point of arrogance, that they sometimes classify as "intimidation." Yet there are a few hardy souls who see beyond that and welcome all that is me, over the top tendencies and all, and Ling is helping me to see that I am just very full and spilling over. I work every day at channeling all that fullness, and feel like I'm allocating pretty well, even though at times it truly feels like all I do is eat, sleep, train and talk about those things. I'm managing to fit in more and feel more and be more.
I am never sure what forces are at work in the universe that provide me with such blessings--it's surely a combination of hard work, seized opportunities, an openness to alternate perspectives and some other magic ingredients that I can't put my finger on. Maybe there really is something to riding and running in nuclear research facilities!
Life is truly excellent!
Wednesday, June 13, 2007
Triple T Race Report - Installment 4
Regarding today's photos: They changed the graphics on the Ultra Violence cans. Do you think it's a coincidence that the colors match up to my beloved LGL? I think not. I highly recommend you visit the website, and ramble around until you get the prompt to enter a number. Enjoy!
The other photos are new things in bloom in my yard. See if you can spot the Monarch butterfly caterpillar. I've got several on several (curiously enough) Butterfly Weed and Milkweed plants. The caterpillars grow really fast! I hope to have several chrysalises going, and I'll get shots of those, too. They are absolutely beautiful!
Installment 4:
http://trifuel.com/training/race-reports/american-triple-t-an-epic-race-report-part-4
Installment 3, in case you missed it:
http://www.trifuel.com/training/race-reports/american-triple-t-an-epic-race-report-part-3
Installment 2, in case you missed it:
http://trifuel.com/training/race-reports/american-triple-t-an-epic-race-report-part-2
Installment 1, in case you missed it:
Installment 3, in case you missed it:
http://www.trifuel.com/training/race-reports/american-triple-t-an-epic-race-report-part-3
Installment 2, in case you missed it:
http://trifuel.com/training/race-reports/american-triple-t-an-epic-race-report-part-2
Installment 1, in case you missed it:
Tuesday, June 12, 2007
A Strauss Sighting
The non-training (yet still quite tan) species of the Strauss creature was sighted in my home yesterday, after arriving on its mobile habitat, a striking blue motorcycle (we hope to obtain a photo of it in its "Action Figure" phase next week).
Its call alternates between, "Where is the nearest Starbucks," and "Where can I work wirelessly?" which I've learned are its primary animalistic drives, seeking to satisfy both simultaneously; yet it can quickly adapt to home-brewed coffee and an actual couch.
The non-training form of the Strauss appears to thrive on bratwurst, caffeine and cookies. It was also observed stealing most of the filet from a just-off-the-grill Porterhouse steak--so one can only guess the makeup of its usual diet. It also has this weird habit of having packages delivered to my house with instructions to do something with the contents. Usually there's something for me in the package, though, so I really can't complain. If anyone knows of a way to encourage it to send carbon bike parts, please let me know.
I am attempting to stimulate the metamorphosis of the non-training Strauss creature into the rarer training/racing form (sometimes known as the "triathlete" phase). So far, I've been coaxing it gently with the words "Miami Man 1/2 Ironman 2007" and "Triple T 2008," but I'll need to be careful before using the words "diet" and "run." I'm pretty sure it doesn't understand the word "swim," although it seems to know how to force other species to do it while it watches (voyeuristic tendencies are a surefire clue to identifying the coaching form of the Strauss).
So I'm asking all of you to help me out here before the training Strauss becomes an endangered species by allowing it to subsist on its in-the-wild diet of Infinit, Gatorade, lean protein and veggies. I'm told this metamorphosis can take several months. I think it can be done over the next 5 months by Miami Man 2007 this November.
Monday, June 11, 2007
Triple T Race Report - Installment 3
http://www.trifuel.com/training/race-reports/american-triple-t-an-epic-race-report-part-3
Installment 2, in case you missed it:
http://trifuel.com/training/race-reports/american-triple-t-an-epic-race-report-part-2
Installment 1, in case you missed it:
http://trifuel.com/training/race-reports/american-triple-t-an-epic-race-report-for-an-epic-race
Installment 2, in case you missed it:
http://trifuel.com/training/race-reports/american-triple-t-an-epic-race-report-part-2
Installment 1, in case you missed it:
http://trifuel.com/training/race-reports/american-triple-t-an-epic-race-report-for-an-epic-race
Weekly Workout Totals 06/04/2007-06/10/2007
I'm tired. My coach is showing up soon, so I decided to take 1/2 day off from work. I'm working on my patio!
Read it and believe it:
Weekly Totals 06/04/2007-06/10/2007
Swim: 9850 yards (5.59 miles) in 3.52 hours; 17% of weekly workout time; approx. 1231 calories burned
Bike: Approx. 206.93 miles in 11.65 hours; 55% of weekly workout time; approx. 5243 calories burned
Run: Approx. 30.9 miles in 4.84 hours; 23% of weekly workout time; approx. 2185 calories burned
Strength: 1.07 hours; 5% of weekly workout time; approx. 268 calories burned
All Sports: Approx. 243.42 miles in 21.08 hours; approx. 8927 calories burned
Sleep: 7.86 hours avg./night
Stretching: 0.97 hours. Massage: 1.5 hours
Read it and believe it:
Weekly Totals 06/04/2007-06/10/2007
Swim: 9850 yards (5.59 miles) in 3.52 hours; 17% of weekly workout time; approx. 1231 calories burned
Bike: Approx. 206.93 miles in 11.65 hours; 55% of weekly workout time; approx. 5243 calories burned
Run: Approx. 30.9 miles in 4.84 hours; 23% of weekly workout time; approx. 2185 calories burned
Strength: 1.07 hours; 5% of weekly workout time; approx. 268 calories burned
All Sports: Approx. 243.42 miles in 21.08 hours; approx. 8927 calories burned
Sleep: 7.86 hours avg./night
Stretching: 0.97 hours. Massage: 1.5 hours
Saturday, June 09, 2007
Triple T Race Report--Installment 2
http://trifuel.com/training/race-reports/american-triple-t-an-epic-race-report-part-2
Installment 1, in case you missed it:
http://trifuel.com/training/race-reports/american-triple-t-an-epic-race-report-for-an-epic-race
In other news, I had a GREAT 79 mile ride today, and then I headed out to run. When I was about 1.5 miles from home, I must have failed to step up over a rise in a sidewalk and I crashed. I didn't hit my face--just my left deltoid and outside knee, but I sensed a hurt rib. A nice woman pulled over in her car to check if I was OK, offered me a ride home, which I took, and I've iced everything. I don't think I broke a rib; rather I think I strained either an intracostal or internal oblique. We will see how things go tomorrow! I think this was partially the fault of new running shoes (upgrade of my now gone model) making me run a bit more on the balls of my feet. I'll try riding the bike before I drive 60 miles to ride 100. I have a feeling riding will be fine, and I don't have to run again until Tuesday, so no worries there. I wanted to swim for :20-:30 today, but decided against it. I'll test out the swimming muscles on Monday.
During the ride I saw 3 chics on tri bikes, and 2 of them had matching outfits and aero helmets. Well, I didn't think they were going very fast, and I was cruising about 80% of FTP, so you know what had to be done--I cruised on past them, said hi, and then they sort of followed me, but they didn't exactly take chase--I didn't think they could keep up. They followed me down a side road (I was in Fermilab again), and I circled out and then to the start of my Fermilab loop to pee. I had time to leisurely pee, and watched the girls come around near me and circle back. I gave them a head start, got back on Bitchie, and shortly passed them again. If you are going to wear a fucking aero helmet, you better be able to bring it. Bunch o' posers!
I was thinking I should have been riding my disk wheel today--it was one of those perfect June days with a clear sky, barely any wind. Maybe I'll whip it out tomorrow and go as a poser. NOT!!!
I'm starting to feel good about my cycling. I felt like a slacker this winter--I just wasn't into pushing myself that hard--but I'm getting the old drive back to ride really hard. Let's just say I'm scared shitless with Horribly Hilly coming up, and I don't want to ride like a loser on the day. A few times today I was thinking of cutting the ride a bit short, and just by feet, not miles, and my brain reminded me I have to ride 200K with 10,000 feet climbing next Saturday, so I better put in my 225 miles this week!
In other news, I tried out my new Infinit mix--it's DA BOMB!!! Lots of caffeine, a bit more flavor than the last mixture I tried, and a bit more calories.
In other news, where I live the price of a gallon of gas is approaching the price of a pack of cigarettes. I've decided that when gas costs more than cigarettes that I am going to stop driving and start smoking. I'm sure all the smokers are secretly laughing that their habit will soon cost less than what we consider a basic service!
There were no cicadas in Fermilab. When I got within 4 miles from home, I started hearing them again, and it was comforting. It's truly special that we have these visitors. I mean, come on, they are 17 years old and they come out of the ground and they have sex for about 4 weeks and then die. Not a bad way to go, if you ask me!
Installment 1, in case you missed it:
http://trifuel.com/training/race-reports/american-triple-t-an-epic-race-report-for-an-epic-race
In other news, I had a GREAT 79 mile ride today, and then I headed out to run. When I was about 1.5 miles from home, I must have failed to step up over a rise in a sidewalk and I crashed. I didn't hit my face--just my left deltoid and outside knee, but I sensed a hurt rib. A nice woman pulled over in her car to check if I was OK, offered me a ride home, which I took, and I've iced everything. I don't think I broke a rib; rather I think I strained either an intracostal or internal oblique. We will see how things go tomorrow! I think this was partially the fault of new running shoes (upgrade of my now gone model) making me run a bit more on the balls of my feet. I'll try riding the bike before I drive 60 miles to ride 100. I have a feeling riding will be fine, and I don't have to run again until Tuesday, so no worries there. I wanted to swim for :20-:30 today, but decided against it. I'll test out the swimming muscles on Monday.
During the ride I saw 3 chics on tri bikes, and 2 of them had matching outfits and aero helmets. Well, I didn't think they were going very fast, and I was cruising about 80% of FTP, so you know what had to be done--I cruised on past them, said hi, and then they sort of followed me, but they didn't exactly take chase--I didn't think they could keep up. They followed me down a side road (I was in Fermilab again), and I circled out and then to the start of my Fermilab loop to pee. I had time to leisurely pee, and watched the girls come around near me and circle back. I gave them a head start, got back on Bitchie, and shortly passed them again. If you are going to wear a fucking aero helmet, you better be able to bring it. Bunch o' posers!
I was thinking I should have been riding my disk wheel today--it was one of those perfect June days with a clear sky, barely any wind. Maybe I'll whip it out tomorrow and go as a poser. NOT!!!
I'm starting to feel good about my cycling. I felt like a slacker this winter--I just wasn't into pushing myself that hard--but I'm getting the old drive back to ride really hard. Let's just say I'm scared shitless with Horribly Hilly coming up, and I don't want to ride like a loser on the day. A few times today I was thinking of cutting the ride a bit short, and just by feet, not miles, and my brain reminded me I have to ride 200K with 10,000 feet climbing next Saturday, so I better put in my 225 miles this week!
In other news, I tried out my new Infinit mix--it's DA BOMB!!! Lots of caffeine, a bit more flavor than the last mixture I tried, and a bit more calories.
In other news, where I live the price of a gallon of gas is approaching the price of a pack of cigarettes. I've decided that when gas costs more than cigarettes that I am going to stop driving and start smoking. I'm sure all the smokers are secretly laughing that their habit will soon cost less than what we consider a basic service!
There were no cicadas in Fermilab. When I got within 4 miles from home, I started hearing them again, and it was comforting. It's truly special that we have these visitors. I mean, come on, they are 17 years old and they come out of the ground and they have sex for about 4 weeks and then die. Not a bad way to go, if you ask me!
Thursday, June 07, 2007
Triple T Race Report--Installment 1
As the other installments become available, I'll aggregate them in a new post.
Enjoy!
Enjoy!
Wednesday, June 06, 2007
TTT Race Report Update
I have received clearance from http://www.trifuel.com to publish my report there. It will be in SIX installments (the Word document is 22 pages WITHOUT PHOTOS); first installment should appear in a day or so. I scrubbed my F-bombs and S-bombs, can you believe it?
I will hyperlink to the installments as they roll out here on my blog. I think this is going to be good. At least it cracks me up when I read it!
I will hyperlink to the installments as they roll out here on my blog. I think this is going to be good. At least it cracks me up when I read it!
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