I've always been baffled by the amount of books there are about running or cycling or rock climbing or kayaking. How much could you actually learn from a book? As I type it, I realize what an incredibly dumb statement that is. Yes, books are for learning. I speak good English I do. Pete decided to take out several books about running and triathlons from the library recently. Among the books that we took out was Breakthrough Triathlon Training, by Brad Kearns. The main point of this book is to avoid burnout. Kearns, who was a world-ranked professional triathlete, writes more about the mental positioning of training than the physical regime that one undertakes. What I found most interesting is that he points out that some of the most successful (success being relative of course) athletes must build into their training plenty of recovery time. Recovery time is not just for your body to heal, but for your mind to regroup as well. There are so many great points to this book that if your serious about training for any kind of endurance event, I recommend picking this up - triathlete or not.
I'm sitting on the porch right now, soaking in the cool Sunday morning breeze, and relaxing - while Pete and Marie are out riding. Marie is enjoying a double brick today (ride 25, run 3, ride 25, run 3). Pete and I are joining her for different legs of this brick. She and Pete are riding 25 miles, then running 3. When they get back from the run I'll jump on my bike and ride another 25 miles with her and then run the final 3. There was no way in hell I was going to do the entire double brick with her, so I'm doing what I know I can and will probably have to push it a bit.
Among many of the recommendations that this book makes is to run without a watch or Garmin or an Ipod every now and then. Don't track every step and then carefully analyze it. Go out and run for time not distance. Find the fun in it. Yesterday was a one hour run for us. Rather than running along one of the paths, we chose to run up into a neighborhood behind Lake Calhoun. I had no idea where we were, but I didn't need to. I knew that after 30 minutes we'd turn around and head home. That was all the thinking that I had to do. There were more hills on this route, which I liked. I like powering up a short hill to move the lactic acid in my muscles. I pound up that hill as hard as I can, pulling with my arms, head straight and focused. When I get to the top I resume my pace and my legs always feel stronger and lighter. By the end of the run we reached our starting point at exactly one-hour, meaning that our pace was insanely consistent. Our overall pace was solid. I felt great.
Continuing to follow the advice of this book, to enjoy my surrounds and appreciate my accomplishments, I went down to Lake Nokomis yesterday. Not to swim, not to obsess about the race, but to sit and watch Marie as she did her 2 mile swim. The was partially of course because there aren't Life Guards on duty until much later in the day and I don't want her out there swimming with no spotter, but also because I just wanted to sit. I didn't bring a book or listen to music. I just sat and watched the many people swim around the 100 meter-spaced lap buoys. I was so pleased that out of all the swimmers Marie was clearly the strongest and most consistent. It made it easy to look out over the water and find her. I thought about how only a two weeks ago this beach was packed with hundreds of people and the water filled with flopping swimmers. Yesterday, it was a handful of people and not a worry in the world.
So many of you that might read this blog might run or ride or do crazy yoga and I'm so glad that you do. Remember why you're doing it and make it fun. Take some time for yourself and relax. Sleep in every now and then and enjoy your accomplishments - the only one measuring them is you, so its up to you to determine what success is. Recognize the success in those around you and realize that you might learn something.
Jul 25, 2010
Jul 23, 2010
Retrospect
I did it! I managed to survive another Life Time Fitness triathlon. It was a truly amazing experience.
The entire event-day was was a blast. Pete and I were up at the crack of ass to eat and head down to Lake Nokomis. It was such a relief to have walked through the transition area the night before (compare the two pictures above). Just looking around and making a connection to that location before the crowds of people and gear, really helps me sleep at night. The anxiety that I felt last year was simply gone. I was excited to get in the water and when I did, it felt exactly how I remembered.
Doing this event with Pete was meant more to me than I can explain in words. I never imaged that I would ever be with someone that would want to do this kind of crap with me. Pete's last triathlon was more than twelve years ago. How did he do? He rocked, of course. He was 1st in his age group for the swim, and 12th overall... overall means out of all 3,000 amateurs, he was 12th in the swim. I could not have been more proud of him.
(drum roll please) I met my goal! Look back in my blogs and see that I was brave enough to say that I wanted to come in under 3 hours, which I did. You have to understand that it was only two years ago that I quit smoking. That's right folks, I was a smoker. Something I can't even conceive of now. To be able to say that I did my second triathlon is one thing, but its another to be able to set a goal around my time.
My swim felt wonderful. I passed more people than I imagined and swam strong from beginning to end. Funny thing about the swim was that on several occasions I thought about Nana, my maternal grandmother. I used to swim with her as a little girl in Cayuga Lake, one of the Finger Lakes in Western NY. I can only imagine how proud of me she would be if she could see me out there!
My transition to the bike was smooth. I did not run up the sand and hurt myself (like last year). Along the bike course I actually saw Pete. Bam! Bolt of energy. The bike was great, someday the city might realize the huge crowd that this event draws and will invest some money in the roads. Sadly I saw more flat tires, road rash and broken bones than I did last year. The tight turns of the course are one thing, but to couple that with some serious pot holes is a recipe for disaster. As I've said before, I knew this course pretty well and knew what to expect. The ride kicked ass and I felt like a power house.
I got of the bike, slipped on those lovely running shoes and flew out of the transition area. Between adrenaline, a great training schedule and several songs playing in my head, my legs ran when I wanted them to!
My legs actually felt great. As I turned the first corner, out of transition, I saw Molly and Sue. As soon as I heard Molly scream "Halstead!" I just about cried. I could not have been happier to see her. She bolted up and ran along side me, she told me I looked great and gave me a shot of energy that I used the whole run. There were a few walks along the way, but back up and running every time and quickly getting my stride back. (side note, sadly if you look up my times, the bike and run times are both wrong. I biked faster and ran slower than are listed... but the overall time is what I'm focusing on... so you should too). When I finished the run, there she was, Christine. Like an angel, wings open to catch me, I fell into her arms, or at least I'm pretty sure I did. The whole race I knew I could count on seeing her in that very spot.
As I got out of the finish area I was so happy to see all of the wonderful people that came out to support me. Thank you Robert for being along the course and shooting video... even I'm afraid of what that video looks like. Josh, it was awesome to see you at the beginning of the day and to hang out before the race. Megan, as soon as you put your arms around me I thought I'd fall down crying. It meant so much to have you there. Sue, I'm expecting to see you out there some day! Miss Diane, you always make me feel like a rock star that can do no wrong. Christine, thanks again for volunteering, I'm sure I'm not the only person to fall into your arms! Marie and Zeli along the course, waving me on- was wonderful. And mom, having you there at the beginning, to send me off into the water was wonderful - I knew I was being looked after. I was able to meet one of my all-time favorite people, Mr. Bret Wilson, who took second place in his division. Bret became an inspiration to me last year when I read his amazing story through Team In Training. Bret ran for Team In Training in honor of his daughter Erin. To read more about Bret and his story click HERE.
In retrospect, I feel like I couldn't have done any more training. I feel like I was as prepared as I could be. That doesn't mean that I can't keep trying to get better, run faster, ride harder. I could not be happier with my results.
The entire event-day was was a blast. Pete and I were up at the crack of ass to eat and head down to Lake Nokomis. It was such a relief to have walked through the transition area the night before (compare the two pictures above). Just looking around and making a connection to that location before the crowds of people and gear, really helps me sleep at night. The anxiety that I felt last year was simply gone. I was excited to get in the water and when I did, it felt exactly how I remembered.
Doing this event with Pete was meant more to me than I can explain in words. I never imaged that I would ever be with someone that would want to do this kind of crap with me. Pete's last triathlon was more than twelve years ago. How did he do? He rocked, of course. He was 1st in his age group for the swim, and 12th overall... overall means out of all 3,000 amateurs, he was 12th in the swim. I could not have been more proud of him.
(drum roll please) I met my goal! Look back in my blogs and see that I was brave enough to say that I wanted to come in under 3 hours, which I did. You have to understand that it was only two years ago that I quit smoking. That's right folks, I was a smoker. Something I can't even conceive of now. To be able to say that I did my second triathlon is one thing, but its another to be able to set a goal around my time.My swim felt wonderful. I passed more people than I imagined and swam strong from beginning to end. Funny thing about the swim was that on several occasions I thought about Nana, my maternal grandmother. I used to swim with her as a little girl in Cayuga Lake, one of the Finger Lakes in Western NY. I can only imagine how proud of me she would be if she could see me out there!
My transition to the bike was smooth. I did not run up the sand and hurt myself (like last year). Along the bike course I actually saw Pete. Bam! Bolt of energy. The bike was great, someday the city might realize the huge crowd that this event draws and will invest some money in the roads. Sadly I saw more flat tires, road rash and broken bones than I did last year. The tight turns of the course are one thing, but to couple that with some serious pot holes is a recipe for disaster. As I've said before, I knew this course pretty well and knew what to expect. The ride kicked ass and I felt like a power house.
I got of the bike, slipped on those lovely running shoes and flew out of the transition area. Between adrenaline, a great training schedule and several songs playing in my head, my legs ran when I wanted them to!
My legs actually felt great. As I turned the first corner, out of transition, I saw Molly and Sue. As soon as I heard Molly scream "Halstead!" I just about cried. I could not have been happier to see her. She bolted up and ran along side me, she told me I looked great and gave me a shot of energy that I used the whole run. There were a few walks along the way, but back up and running every time and quickly getting my stride back. (side note, sadly if you look up my times, the bike and run times are both wrong. I biked faster and ran slower than are listed... but the overall time is what I'm focusing on... so you should too). When I finished the run, there she was, Christine. Like an angel, wings open to catch me, I fell into her arms, or at least I'm pretty sure I did. The whole race I knew I could count on seeing her in that very spot.
As I got out of the finish area I was so happy to see all of the wonderful people that came out to support me. Thank you Robert for being along the course and shooting video... even I'm afraid of what that video looks like. Josh, it was awesome to see you at the beginning of the day and to hang out before the race. Megan, as soon as you put your arms around me I thought I'd fall down crying. It meant so much to have you there. Sue, I'm expecting to see you out there some day! Miss Diane, you always make me feel like a rock star that can do no wrong. Christine, thanks again for volunteering, I'm sure I'm not the only person to fall into your arms! Marie and Zeli along the course, waving me on- was wonderful. And mom, having you there at the beginning, to send me off into the water was wonderful - I knew I was being looked after. I was able to meet one of my all-time favorite people, Mr. Bret Wilson, who took second place in his division. Bret became an inspiration to me last year when I read his amazing story through Team In Training. Bret ran for Team In Training in honor of his daughter Erin. To read more about Bret and his story click HERE. In retrospect, I feel like I couldn't have done any more training. I feel like I was as prepared as I could be. That doesn't mean that I can't keep trying to get better, run faster, ride harder. I could not be happier with my results.
Jul 6, 2010
Mantra
What are the words or phrases that you repeat to yourself for encouragement or strength? I've never spent much time thinking about the mantras I have. But I do have them. We all do. In fact we all have those fabulous counter-mantras as well (is that a word?) I touched on that a bit in the last blog. But now, as I'm four days away from the event, I have to shift gears completely. I have to. Between 4:30AM and somewhere around 11:30AM, I'll have a lot of time to be inside my head. In the time before the race I'll eat twice; once at home and again something small before the swim. In that time I'll look around the crowd and see all the amazing people that are competing with me. I'll be more nervous about standing around than the event itself. I'll likely run through each part of the race in my head. I've done the course a million times. I know the turns, the bumps in the road, I know where I'll need the extra push. I know where I'll need that mantra to start working its magic. I won't have Pete or Molly or Marie next to me. Pete will be out there racing, but I won't see him. I'll see him at the finish line. Just that thought makes me so happy.
We'll enter the water one at a time. I think there is a one or two second delay between people. From the shore it will look like an ocean of flopping fish. I'll be in that ocean. My arms will move like wings, up and over my head, down through the water. I won't hear anything. I'll go into my head, the deepest part of my brain. "Easy" I'll say, "long" imagining my stroke "strong" I'll finish the stroke, breath and begin another. I'll find my rhythm. I'll look up every now and then to make sure I'm swimming in the right direction. Maybe every fifth breath, maybe more. But I'm focused, so calm. Another swimmer will pass me, maybe push me aside. I'll notice for only a moment that I'm sharing this space. This will be my favorite part of the race. I'm totally alone, completely connected to my body with my mind. Swim = 1.5K
As I near the shore I'll
see people begin to climb out of the water. Half swimming, half running before their feet can clear the surface of the water. Some will dash up the shore to the sand and onto the runway. I'm still in my head, but its fading because I can see people now, I can meet their eyes. Look away, don't pay attention, focus on getting up to the transition area. Soaking wet, I'll pull my swim cap off. I can feel some tiny hairs being pulled out of my head. My hair is pulled back and matted down. I look across the sea of bikes to find where I left mine. Everything looks different than it did hours ago when I left my gear - set up all nice and neat. "Put your helmet on first" they won't even let you on the bike course if your helmet isn't on. Immediately disqualified. "Put your helmet on first." I can't get on my bike until I've exited the transition area. Right now, today, I don't know how far I'll be from that point. How far will I have to run before I can jump on my bike? This is where my brain becomes scramble. All the thoughts running fast and colliding. So fast that decisions aren't made, but rather instincts are followed. I've done this before. I've gotten through transitions in record time.
I sigh with relief as my ass hits the saddle and my feet click into the peddles. I'm on the bike. A couple of hard cranks to get up to speed and then into my head I go. I have no thoughts. I'm not feeling anything. I'll tuck down, gripping the bike to make it a part of me. Every muscle of my leg meets every turn of the peddle. My whole body is working. I am strong. At this moment the only thing in my head is "fuck yeah." I'll get passed and I'll pass people. I suddenly realize that I'm pulling up too close to a rider. I drop back. Don't get penalized for drafting. The song in my head is becoming my mantra. Eminen's Lose Yourself starts its repeat, "Look, if you had one shot, or one opportunity to seize everything you ever wanted in one moment would you capture it? Or just let it slip?..." Ride = 40K
The crowd becomes evident towards the end of the bike course. Clumps of people cheering me on. No wait, their cheering for the dude behind me. Someone will shout "Nice ink!" That was for me. I see the entrance of the transition area. I'm yanked back into reality. Thoughts enter my head again like an assault. "Get off the bike" Bam! "Take off your shoes" Bam! "Run to your transition spot" Bam! I throw my bike back up on the rack, it slips, I straighten it. Helmet comes off. I throw a Shot Block in my mouth. Tiny sip of water. I slip on my shoes. I smile because I love these shoes. Bike is done.
Time to run. I can run now but will my legs let me? I scoot out of the transition area. I can see people now. I see people that I know. They're cheering for me. Shit, I can do this? From this moment forward I will see people, make eye contact and for the next however long it takes I will be able to hear their words shouted at me, feel the pavement under my feet and sun on my head. New mantra. Where's my mantra? Where did it go? Back and forth looking around. "My legs feel heavy." NO! Delete, delete. "I'm thirsty." Wrong words. They're just words. "How many miles to go?" Find different words. Find a song. Think of Rocky. "Risin' up, back on the street. Did my time, took my chances. Went the distance, now I'm back on my feet. Just a man and his will to survive..." Shit I don't know all the words. Quick, something else. I think about my posture: String through my head pulling me straight, hips forward, shoulders back, pull with my arms. A mile or so in to the run I can feel my running legs again. "Look at what's happened to me, I can't believe it myself. Suddenly I'm up on top of the world, it should've been somebody else..." Yes I know this song. This doesn't suck too much. One lap down, one more to go. I cross into the second lap. I see all of the same faces again. I hear my name. I go back to the beginning. Pavement. Legs. Distance. Posture. Song. I need help here! Think about statistics. (CDC) In 2000, obesity-related health care costs totaled an estimated $117 billion. More than one third of U.S. adults—more than 72 million people—and 16% of U.S. children are obese. I am not one of them. I am not one of them. I tell myself that I've worked for this. I'm not special or different or lucky. It doesn't come easy to me. I've sweated so much that my clothing turns white from salt. I've worked for this. I've cried at the end of a workout because I didn't think I could do it or because I couldn't finish. I worked for this. None of its been easy, but all of it is mine. "This is mine." I finally find my mantra. I repeat it until it means nothing, but by this point I'm rounding the last corner. So many faces. It doesn't matter who they're cheering for because this was all mine. Run = 10K
We'll enter the water one at a time. I think there is a one or two second delay between people. From the shore it will look like an ocean of flopping fish. I'll be in that ocean. My arms will move like wings, up and over my head, down through the water. I won't hear anything. I'll go into my head, the deepest part of my brain. "Easy" I'll say, "long" imagining my stroke "strong" I'll finish the stroke, breath and begin another. I'll find my rhythm. I'll look up every now and then to make sure I'm swimming in the right direction. Maybe every fifth breath, maybe more. But I'm focused, so calm. Another swimmer will pass me, maybe push me aside. I'll notice for only a moment that I'm sharing this space. This will be my favorite part of the race. I'm totally alone, completely connected to my body with my mind. Swim = 1.5K
As I near the shore I'll
see people begin to climb out of the water. Half swimming, half running before their feet can clear the surface of the water. Some will dash up the shore to the sand and onto the runway. I'm still in my head, but its fading because I can see people now, I can meet their eyes. Look away, don't pay attention, focus on getting up to the transition area. Soaking wet, I'll pull my swim cap off. I can feel some tiny hairs being pulled out of my head. My hair is pulled back and matted down. I look across the sea of bikes to find where I left mine. Everything looks different than it did hours ago when I left my gear - set up all nice and neat. "Put your helmet on first" they won't even let you on the bike course if your helmet isn't on. Immediately disqualified. "Put your helmet on first." I can't get on my bike until I've exited the transition area. Right now, today, I don't know how far I'll be from that point. How far will I have to run before I can jump on my bike? This is where my brain becomes scramble. All the thoughts running fast and colliding. So fast that decisions aren't made, but rather instincts are followed. I've done this before. I've gotten through transitions in record time. I sigh with relief as my ass hits the saddle and my feet click into the peddles. I'm on the bike. A couple of hard cranks to get up to speed and then into my head I go. I have no thoughts. I'm not feeling anything. I'll tuck down, gripping the bike to make it a part of me. Every muscle of my leg meets every turn of the peddle. My whole body is working. I am strong. At this moment the only thing in my head is "fuck yeah." I'll get passed and I'll pass people. I suddenly realize that I'm pulling up too close to a rider. I drop back. Don't get penalized for drafting. The song in my head is becoming my mantra. Eminen's Lose Yourself starts its repeat, "Look, if you had one shot, or one opportunity to seize everything you ever wanted in one moment would you capture it? Or just let it slip?..." Ride = 40K
The crowd becomes evident towards the end of the bike course. Clumps of people cheering me on. No wait, their cheering for the dude behind me. Someone will shout "Nice ink!" That was for me. I see the entrance of the transition area. I'm yanked back into reality. Thoughts enter my head again like an assault. "Get off the bike" Bam! "Take off your shoes" Bam! "Run to your transition spot" Bam! I throw my bike back up on the rack, it slips, I straighten it. Helmet comes off. I throw a Shot Block in my mouth. Tiny sip of water. I slip on my shoes. I smile because I love these shoes. Bike is done.
Time to run. I can run now but will my legs let me? I scoot out of the transition area. I can see people now. I see people that I know. They're cheering for me. Shit, I can do this? From this moment forward I will see people, make eye contact and for the next however long it takes I will be able to hear their words shouted at me, feel the pavement under my feet and sun on my head. New mantra. Where's my mantra? Where did it go? Back and forth looking around. "My legs feel heavy." NO! Delete, delete. "I'm thirsty." Wrong words. They're just words. "How many miles to go?" Find different words. Find a song. Think of Rocky. "Risin' up, back on the street. Did my time, took my chances. Went the distance, now I'm back on my feet. Just a man and his will to survive..." Shit I don't know all the words. Quick, something else. I think about my posture: String through my head pulling me straight, hips forward, shoulders back, pull with my arms. A mile or so in to the run I can feel my running legs again. "Look at what's happened to me, I can't believe it myself. Suddenly I'm up on top of the world, it should've been somebody else..." Yes I know this song. This doesn't suck too much. One lap down, one more to go. I cross into the second lap. I see all of the same faces again. I hear my name. I go back to the beginning. Pavement. Legs. Distance. Posture. Song. I need help here! Think about statistics. (CDC) In 2000, obesity-related health care costs totaled an estimated $117 billion. More than one third of U.S. adults—more than 72 million people—and 16% of U.S. children are obese. I am not one of them. I am not one of them. I tell myself that I've worked for this. I'm not special or different or lucky. It doesn't come easy to me. I've sweated so much that my clothing turns white from salt. I've worked for this. I've cried at the end of a workout because I didn't think I could do it or because I couldn't finish. I worked for this. None of its been easy, but all of it is mine. "This is mine." I finally find my mantra. I repeat it until it means nothing, but by this point I'm rounding the last corner. So many faces. It doesn't matter who they're cheering for because this was all mine. Run = 10K
Jul 2, 2010
Talking to Myself
I'm notorious for talking to myself. "What did you say?", "Nothing, I'm just talking to myself." Seriously I seem to have more conversations out loud with myself than most people do. I'll even argue an idea out loud until I work it out. But the one thing I do best of all is psych myself out. I'll be out on a perfectly beautiful day, running with someone fabulous and manage to get a crappy thought stuck in my head. "Who do you think you are?", "How are you possibly going to do this?" and so on. It will get so bad that I it will ruin my entire workout, and sometimes just stop running.
This sort of self deprecation is not limited to my running, oh no. I like to dance with punishment at work and even in relationships. I'll figure out in my brain why I can't do something and dog gone it, I'll prove myself right! I'm trying to figure out the areas of my life where this doesn't happen. I don't do it while I'm swimming or biking. I don't do it when I'm driving, because clearly being from New York, I am the best driver. I'm afraid of failing, I'm afraid of failing publicly. Is anyone else? I'll go to such great lengths to avoid failure that I won't even attempt something. Someone at work told me that I need to be brave and trust myself. I took that advice seriously. I'm working on being brave and trusting myself. I'm working on it. I'm working on it. I'm working on it.
For the next week I have to get out of my brain, stop sabotaging the hard work I've done, and feel completely confident that I will not only kick ass at the LTF Triathlon, but that I will make my goal time. Trust myself. Be brave.
This sort of self deprecation is not limited to my running, oh no. I like to dance with punishment at work and even in relationships. I'll figure out in my brain why I can't do something and dog gone it, I'll prove myself right! I'm trying to figure out the areas of my life where this doesn't happen. I don't do it while I'm swimming or biking. I don't do it when I'm driving, because clearly being from New York, I am the best driver. I'm afraid of failing, I'm afraid of failing publicly. Is anyone else? I'll go to such great lengths to avoid failure that I won't even attempt something. Someone at work told me that I need to be brave and trust myself. I took that advice seriously. I'm working on being brave and trusting myself. I'm working on it. I'm working on it. I'm working on it.
For the next week I have to get out of my brain, stop sabotaging the hard work I've done, and feel completely confident that I will not only kick ass at the LTF Triathlon, but that I will make my goal time. Trust myself. Be brave.
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