What I never thought I could do

Post by Randi Strunk

It’s over. So strange to think that the thing we’ve been training for the last 4 to 5 months has come and gone, but Jenny and I successfully finished the St. Croix Valley Triathlon on Saturday, September 5. I was a mixture of nervous and excited leading up to the race, but knew we had done most of it before so I tried to treat it as much like a normal training day as possible, so by the time we were lining up to start I was more focused than nervous.

The part I’m most proud of is the swim. If you’ve been reading this blog since the beginning you know my swimming experience was very little and I remember the feeling of dread when I could barely make it down and back in the pool without wanting to die. Pete and Jenny kept telling me it would get better, but a mile seemed like such a long way it was hard to believe them sometimes. However, with the coaching of Pete and our open water swims on Tuesday evenings I was able to complete the swim portion in 44 minutes. I think I gained the most confidence from this portion of my training, and it was definitely the part I had to work the hardest to accomplish.

The bike went really well too, I feel like we gave it everything we had and with good results. Twenty five miles went by more quickly than I ever thought it could. I really enjoy biking and am going to keep training through the winter, continuing to take spin classes and riding our tandem on the bike trainer we have in the basement. I certainly didn’t go into this thinking at the end I’d have purchased my own tandem bike, but that’s what happened and I’m very excited to keep improving on the bike. I’m going to reach out to other blind riders and triathletes to ask about techniques for hills etc. there’s got to be a better way to not lose all your momentum. We stayed seated on the bike the entire time while traditionally you are able to stand and push harder on the up hill climbs. Something I want to learn more about in the off-season.


Finally, there’s the run portion, where I broke the cardinal rule of racing, “Nothing new on race day.” I had some Gatorade at the first water station and my stomach revolted from there. I’m not sure if it was the Gatorade, dehydration, or a combination of the two, but I’m pretty sure we walked more than we ran of those six miles. It was frustrating because I felt like my legs could do more but the rest of my body wasn’t having any of it. Jenny kept reminding me that we were still moving and that we had accomplished our goal to finish regardless of the tough run.


Overall, the training and the race itself were fantastic. I’ve learned so much about the sport and about my own physical capabilities. It’s strange, I’m a bit sad it’s over… having a single race as a goal results in an abrupt end to what your focus has been on for the last five months, but it also means I can move on to something different for a while. I’m anxious to keep up my skills over the fall and winter and to get back into lifting.


I’d like to thank Jenny and Pete for being such great teachers and training partners throughout this journey. Also a big shout out to everyone who came to support us on race day. We had a whole team of supporters and it was a fun day.


Now the question, “Would you do another one?” The answer is a resounding Yes! I have a baseline time now I have learned a ton thus far, but know there is so much more to learn about the sport and about how others train. I’m also super competitive and I want to beat my time, particularly in the run. I hope Jenny had as good of a time in this journey as I did and I have to say we make one hell of a team!!!


Until next time…

It's not courage, it's my life.

Post by Randi Strunk

I'm always a bit hesitant when approached with a pitch for any sort of media, particularly where I'm in the spotlight (it’s not like that happens every day, but it’s happened occasionally). First, because I'm not very comfortable in that position, but secondly and more importantly I'm always worried about how I will be portrayed in the story. I never want to be a part of a story that extolls my courage for even getting out of bed in the morning, because it just must be so hard being blind, and sadly those types of stories are more common than I'd like to admit. I'm also a bit wary about the "inspiration" angle, because to me what I do isn't inspiring at all, it's normal, it's my life, and it’s all I’ve ever known.

On the other hand I feel like I need to get over that for a couple of reasons, and when Jenny approached me with the opportunity to have a piece done on our triathlon training by local station KARE11 I wanted to do it in hopes that it would not paint me as being inspiring as an individual, but it might inspire somebody who didn’t think they could do physical activities to give it a try. Everybody knows about the staggering statistics of obesity in our country, but not everybody knows that those numbers increase even more among our nation’s disabled population.

Statistics from an article published in the American Journal of Preventative Medicine, July 2013 issue state that nearly 42% of American adults with disabilities are obese and 9% are extremely obese. In comparison, about 29% of adults without disabilities were found to be obese and 3.9% were identified as extremely obese. This is a statistically significant difference, one I attribute to expectations. I’ve heard countless stories of blind kids who weren’t allowed to participate in physical education classes in school due to “liability reasons.” When children aren’t allowed or encouraged to be physically active there’s a good chance they won’t grow into physically active adults.

I also agreed to the story to hopefully encourage more non-disabled athletes to consider being guides for disabled athletes. I literally could not do a triathlon, or snow ski, or a myriad of other physical activities without somebody to act as a guide for me. I can’t even explain how grateful I am that Jenny and others have given of their time to allow me to pursue my own athletic goals. It’s not only a time commitment for me to train, but it’s also a time commitment for guides, and I’d hope that every disabled athlete who relies on a guide in some capacity would agree that our appreciation for your selflessness and time is immeasurable and I’m forever trying to figure out a way to pay it forward… maybe this is the way, by encouraging people with disabilities to find a physical activity they’re passionate about and give it a go, or think about sharing your passion for your given sport with a disabled athlete.  

Watch the segment and tell us what you think!

Are you interested in becoming a guide for a disabled athlete? Email MAGNA at ask@magnausa.com for more information. 

Bricks and Breakthroughs

Post by Randi Strunk

As I mentioned in our last post, the first open water experience for me was a bit nerve racking. Luckily we have open water swims at a lake nearby on Tuesday nights. So last Tuesday Pete and I ventured out to practice. I asked him on the car ride over how far we were going to swim that night, he said we'd go about three quarters across the lake and turn around and come back, about 2/3 of a mile. I wasn't sure quite how that would go, but he said we have two hours, and we'll take our time. My goal was to just get into a steady rhythm and see how that felt.

Pete asked how I was feeling mentally before we began and I said I was nervous, but ready to get started. We started out and Pete stopped me after a bit to see how I was doing. I was good. I went slow and steady, and we stopped 3 times or so on the way to our halfway point.

Sometimes I'd stop when I felt like I was going way off course, or as much off course as a short tether would allow, but I quickly realized

I have absolutely no sense of direction in the middle of a lake. I have to trust that we're going straight... or straightish, and adjust whenever I feel myself getting too far away from my guide.

We reached the half way point and I was feeling pretty surprised that we got there so fast and that I was doing well cardiovascularly. We turned around and only stopped twice on the way back, the first time so Pete could show me one of the giant buoys they use on the course and once because we hit a patch of weeds, which threw me off a bit.

We ended up only taking around 32 minutes to complete the swim. I was really really excited about that. The kind of excited where you just can't stop smiling for a while. After my first open water experience I wasn't sure how it would go, but this was just the result I needed to keep going and to start to feel really good about this portion of the race. For the first time I really felt like the swim was going to be okay. There are still things to work on, but I feel like I'll be able to make it.

This past Sunday we ventured back out to Square Lake and completed a swim, again around 2/3 of a mile, and a 24 mile bike ride pretty much back to back, with a brief pause to get the bikes ready and to get a quick bit of food in between the two. After the bike however, we did a very brief "brick run" thusly named as your legs feel like absolute bricks. I'm pretty sure I muttered and cursed the entire run. I couldn't believe how terrible my legs felt, it hurt to move, my legs felt so tight and sore. It's like nothing I've ever felt before, and something I'm going to have to work on after every spin class or bike ride. Bottom line, brick runs are horrible, terrible, no good, very bad things... that are probably very good for me.

And The Wetsuit Award Goes To...

Having mastered the pool over the last few months, Randi and I were anxious to get into open water. Anyone that’s ever done a triathlon will likely agree that the sooner you can start open water training, the more comfortable you’ll be on race day. Swimming in open water is nothing like swimming in a pool.

One of my favorite areas to swim and ride is Square Lake, MN, not far from Stillwater. It’s absolutely stunning up there. The lake itself is amazing, super clean and clear, used often by divers and swimmers for training of all kinds. The bike course that we ride is the same one that the Square Lake Half Iron Man uses for it’s race. It gets us out of the city and on to roads where we can open up and haul ass. Of course I’ve never “hauled ass” on a tandem, or with somebody else’s life in my hands. But, whatever.

Randi explains, "This was a series of firsts, the first time I have ever worn a wet suit, and frankly people just deserve an award for getting those things on at all. It felt restrictive at first, but once we got in the water I didn't notice it much anymore. The water was cold, and that combined with the wet suit, the tether, and the fact I wasn't in a pool anymore led to me instantly forgetting everything about swimming. After taking the first couple of strokes we stopped and I could no longer touch the bottom, not going to lie I panicked a bit. I tried to get my mind under control and from then on we swam along the beach where I could stand when we stopped swimming.

I appreciated the tether in the open water it gave me a sense of comfort knowing somebody else was

right there with me. I thought about making the tether longer, but I think after our experience in the water a shorter tether will allow for us to stay closer together and it decreases the chances of people swimming in between us. It increases the chances we’ll clock each other while swimming, but as the taller one of the pair I feel like the positives outweigh the negatives, seriously though I try hard not to give Jenny a concussion. We didn't get much of a swimming workout, but I consider yesterday's ventures into the lake to be a victory because I never got out and it will never be the "first time" again. Swimming is still my weakest of the three disciplines but I'll be doing open water work a couple of times a week now, so hopefully there will be nothing but progress from here." 

What Randi didn't mention about the swim was that we were almost eaten alive by a giant snapping turtle. We were swimming along and I saw this head poking out of the water. He looked right at me. I grabbed Randi and yanked her in the opposite direction. Pete of course approached the turtle with absolute fearlessness, looked under water and determined that he was probably a good 15-20 inches long and probably 30-40lbs. Would have eaten us. True story.

After our swim we headed out to ride the bike course. Again, this tandem thing scares the sh*t out of me. We can get moving at a pretty serious clip, and boy, did we! The first turn out of the parking lot is down a decent sized hill, within seconds I realized we were topping out at about 27 mph – and we were coasting. This is not a speed that I’d hit on my own little bike just coasting. We were moving. Randi says to me "Wow, it's really windy out." I laughed. "No, it's not, that's us going really fast!"

Riding this hilly course was an excellent lesson in communication, for both of us. I'd have to tell her every time I shifting, up or down. I've really had no idea how often I shifted until now, it’s second nature at this point for me. But not any more. I need to be fully aware of every move I’m about to make. The shoulder was wide and relatively even, so that made riding next to the two-lane highway less of a worry. Cars and trucks out there are always respectful of riders despite whizzing by us at 60 mph. So down hill, we hit our top speed quickly and are forced not to peddle because we'd easily over rotate. 

Uphill is where we need to work. I’m so accustomed to having my feet locked to the peddles, that I struggled not to pull up. My feet bounced around the pedals a bit and we never figured out if we could stand up going up hill, I was afraid to try. That’s for another day. In the meantime, we muscled through the hills at a slow 10-13 mph pace which felt like mud. This we will fix. We both have strong legs and while we might be driving a tank, we can still put some power behind it. Pete is kind enough to put my clipless pedals on the bike today so that I can lock me feet in. That will immediately give us more efficiency. I think I’ll also put cages on Randi’s pedals to give her some more efficiency too.

Randi said "Yesterday was also our first time out on the bike riding in a hilly area. I'm starting to feel more comfortable and we're continuing to work on our communication. Jenny would tell me when we were shifting to another gear, but yesterday I suggested she start calling out either "easier" or "harder" to indicate which way she was shifting rather than just calling out "shifting." This helped me a lot because I knew what to expect and I could adjust my peddling accordingly. We did 20 miles the first week out on relatively flat trails and 19 with a bunch of hills. I feel like our time was good and we
were working together well. I think we'll be totally fine for this portion of the triathlon especially since we have 10 weeks of training left."

All said and done, it was a really strong workout. I was stoked to get home and download the data from my Garmin. But of course I downloaded it wrong and lost all of the data. ARGH! I love the Garmin because it will give me distance; speed, elevation, all kinds of great data to geek out about and I wanted to share it here. Oh well, next time. All in all we are both feeling stronger and more confident.

Don't Panic in the Pool

It was about six years ago that I did my first triathlon, and six years feels like a really long time ago. For me I thought that the swim would be the easy part of training, but I learned all too quickly that having grown up swimming in lakes and open water was a heck of a lot different than swimming in a pool. My first swim in an indoor pool was a total disaster. I had a panic attack. Swim cap, goggles, walls in the pool, chlorine, no way out! I thought I was going to die. It took a lot of practice for me to get comfortable in a pool and couldn't wait to get outside and into open water. I do realize that I'm in the minority of triathletes that feel this way.

Pete working on stroke entry with Randi

For Randi and I, the challenge would be different. The little vision she has is limited shadows and color, limited vision means in what and in what terms? Would she be able to see the lines at the bottom of the pool? I had no idea. Would she be able to distinguish the end of the swim lane? Who knows?! Just navigating the maze that is the downtown YWCA locker room was going to be hilarious. Then we were to get in the pool and figure out how to swim knowing that we'd eventually be tethered in some way? Screw that?! I mean, hell yeah! But for someone like me, her tether - what does that mean? It means nothing! I'm not blind. I have absolutely no concept of what she's experiencing.

While Randi said she could be tossed in a pool and not drown, she gave little credit to herself as to  how much she could actually swim. The first attempt was going to tell me everything. We started simple, down and back with the kick-board. It went great. No one died. Keep in mind that I'm not a swim instructor. What I learned about swimming was from an expert, but how teach swimming is not my forte. But as a personal trainer I can break down the motions into basics, and since Randi and I have run together, why couldn't we swim together?

Before we got into the logistics of how we'd tether ourselves together, she just needed to get from one end of the pool to the other, and be able to repeat that a million times. So twice a week for the next few weeks and her stroke-form and efficiency skyrocketed.  And no one drowned. What she was able to command her body to do in the pool had taken me months all those years ago. Her body awareness is that of any athlete, excellent, once she knew what queues to take. However, the very unexpected struggle she's had has been endurance. Swimming takes charge of the whole body as a system, unlike any other sport. Our swims have been shorter and her endurance is catching up. The strength is there. Her form improves every time we get in the pool. And thank goodness she's patient.

The issue of how we'd connect to each other during the race has been the big question. Think about this: we swimming about a mile in open water with a hundred other people, they don't know that we're tied together. We've
done some laps where I would swim in front and she'd tap my feet with each stroke. That seemed reasonable, but we still needed a string or some mechanism to connect us. The open water chaos of a triathlon swim means we MUST be connected or we WILL lose each other. The toe-tap technique was fine, but it limited our ability to actually get our workout completed. For the time being we're swimming back and forth independently, warmup, kick board, pull buoy, sprints, the whole 9 (or rather 50) yards. The great part is, Randi has never panicked, not once. Panicking in the water really sucks. She's trusted that I woke let her drown or at least trusts that the lifeguard at the YW won't her drown.

I think that our first attempt at a tether might be around the ankle. That's right. The ankle. But this seems to make the most sense. This week, our work will be to swim side by side and get our rhythm down, before we tether. We've got about 14-weeks, we'll figure it out.... right?