Playing Catch-Up

I have lots of catching up to do. Life has been busy and I just haven't had time to write it all down.

I raced the duathlon last month and LOVED IT. I love to run, so a race where I get to run TWICE is double the fun. There were only 7 females, so for the first (and possibly only) time in my life, I won.

I always wondered what it would feel like to win a race. Although it was exciting, it wasn't very satisfying, as my performance was not my best. I did my best for that day but I'm still quite far behind where I was a year ago as far as speed is concerned. And when I tried to sprint to the finish, there was no extra gear left in my legs. My mind said "GO!" and my legs said "La la la la - We can't hear you!" What a strange feeling!

Ideally, one would want a satisfying performance AND a win. But if I had to choose one or the other, I'd probably choose the strong performance. Well... depending on who I was racing. I don't know. Maybe I'll just have to go after both.

Since the duathlon, I've begun training for my next goal race: The Pinehurst International Triathlon in October. I'm doing another Dave Scott training plan, and as usual, he's kicking my ass. I love it. I'm so glad to be finally working on speed again and to have some structure to my training. I have a few sprints before that race but I'll just treat them as training days.

I raced the Greenville Sprint Triathlon a couple weeks ago. It was my first time doing that race and the course is wonderful. It wasn't an "A" race for me so I decided to experiment with some different things. I swam the swim at an easy pace, walked to my bike in transition, and walked slowly to the mount line for the bike leg. This was intentional, to remind myself that I was not racing. I held back a bit on the bike leg to keep my heartrate under a certain number, but was able to enjoy a game of cat-and-mouse with a 62-year-old man right until we dismounted. I hurried through T2 then ran a steady run, again keeping the heartrate down. It was hard to go do a race where I wasn't trying to go fast, but I got out of it what I needed.

For the past 3 weeks, I've cleaned up my food intake: very little gluten, dairy, sugar, or processed foods. I'm working on gaining muscle and losing fat (I can tell it's working because my quads are growing and my breasts are shrinking) but the added benefits are more energy, better sleep, and clearer lungs.

Speaking of clearer lungs, today I took the last dose of the steroid I've been on for 4 months for my lungs. Now we wait and see if my lungs continue to cooperate. Going into fall allergy season, this will be a challenge, but I'm feeling optimistic, especially because I'm eating well. Food choices seem to have had a moderate impact on my symptoms.

Earlier this week, I had a terrible run. Awful. Just bad, rough, crappy, and not good at all. It was about 12 hours after a tough bike ride with lots of hill reps, and my quads felt pretty shredded. The run was supposed to be at race pace (whatever that is...) but I couldn't hold it more than 2 miles. I haven't had a run that bad in about a year.

I view this as good news, because I believe that a "bad run" always precedes a breakthrough. I think my body is adjusting to the increase in training intensity and will bounce back a little stronger and faster. Progress is imminent!

I also had the worst swim in year. It was my first time in the water in 10 days, and it was as if I had never done freestyle before. Flailing limbs, multiple snorts of water, sloppy drills - nothing went right. Forget how slow I was - it just plain old felt bad. Even when I'm slow, I usually enjoy being in the water, but this was brutal. But rather than signaling a swim breakthrough, it really points to a lack of consistent swim training. I have renewed my commitment to get in the water more often.

There are a few mantras I use to get through these tough patches of training. Usually one or the other gets me back on track:

 

I will do the work and I will be patient and the results will come.
(I enjoy doing the work; it's the being patient that is so damn hard.)

 

This too shall pass.

(Whether it's going well or really sucking, it will change soon.)

 

HTFU

(For when it's not getting better fast enough.)

Feel free to use these as needed. They work well at the office too.

Adjusting

Life has become very busy. The months when I was able to train for an Ironman seem like a past life. Now I'm struggling to get 6 hours of exercise per week.

Side note: Even two years ago, I never would've believed that exercising 6 hours per week was possible for me, let alone that I would consider that a "down" week. It's all about perspective, isn't it?

Work is creating changes in my life right now. I have a couple of projects underway, one of which is nearing completion after two years and is creating a good deal of stress on my part with deadlines and questions and such. I'm surprised by how much energy I use just thinking all day. I'm also traveling more, which I like on many levels, but it makes having a routine a thing of the past.

I've given up on following any type of schedule, and am just fitting in workouts as I can. I'm only biking and running these days. I need to get some swims in, and soon... I have 4 tris coming up and I believe they all include a swim leg. Oy vey.

I did have a FANTASTIC swim lesson with a local tri guru a few weeks ago. He analyzed my stroke and gave me pointers and drills to help correct my issues. I had lots of issues. He tried really hard to find positive things to say about my swim. When words failed him, I suggested that my fat ass helps keep my lower body near the water's surface, which is a plus. He agreed. Winning!

Anyway, I've juggled types of workouts based on the time I have for a workout and how I feel that day. Feeling good? Tempo run. Legs tired? Recovery spin. Hard day at work? Hill reps on the bike or run. Can't make up my mind? Time to do a brick! And eventually, usually once or twice a week, life forces a rest day. So, it all works out.

I'm making the best of the situation while trying to keep my energy levels up for work and home life. It really seems to be working well, except I'm not getting any runs longer than an hour, and I've only ridden outside about twice a month (and lately, not over 90 minutes).

I think I've finally reached a point where I no longer think of how much fitness I've lost since the Ironman and instead think of how much time and flexibility and energy I've gained. I'm happy to be doing speedwork again (FINALLY) although I have a looooooong way to go to get back to where I was a year ago. For now, I'm enjoying the process and focusing on being healthy and well-balanced.

The only real issue I have right now is my lung situation. I'm beginning my fifth and final month of steroid treatment for asthma. I believe the meds have helped, and I hope the effects last. I'm still using the rescue inhaler, and more regularly than I'd like. It seems I got a good bit better, but have flare-ups triggered by allergies and humidity. Good thing it's not very humid around here....ha ha. (I ran in 100% humidity one morning last week. It was a short easy run, and my airways handled it well; not sure how I would've felt if I'd added intensity, which also is a trigger for me.) Overall, the asthma is worse than it was a year ago, but better than it was four months ago... So, who knows what will happen.

This weekend, I'll be racing my first duathlon. I'm excited about trying something new! I don't expect to do very well, as I don't have much speed at this point, but I'm going to give it my best, and have fun too. A race where I get to run twice? Awesome!

(Everyone, say it with me: How hard could it be?)

Tri the Midlands: Short Race, Long Race Report

I was on the fence about doing TTM this year, but decided I should do it because it would be good practice for transitions and be a great high-intensity workout. I knew I would be slower than last year, since I haven't done much speedwork or ANY hills reps yet this season.

I wasn't very excited about doing the race, but I wasn't nervous either. I registered on site on race morning - that was an odd experience because it added more "things to do" to an already hectic pre-race routine. I didn't even know what time my wave would go off - and didn't really care! I figured I'd just follow all the other women with my color of swim cap.



Members of the NW YMCA Tri Club before the race. Great people!

The day before the race, I read my TTM race reports from the last two years to re-familiarize myself with the race mentally and see what suggestions I had made for myself for next time. (Key notes included, "Don't ever do this race again because the run is awful and it's a zillion degrees," as well as, "Beat Alex McDonald," but that wasn't helpful, since he wasn't racing this year. Something about running out of XXL swim caps...)

One big question mark about the race was how my lungs would react. Overall, they've been much better, but humidity seems to be my biggest asthma trigger. I have to find a way to deal with this if I want to continue racing. And by "deal" I mean "make it not happen anymore."

I started the swim and felt okay, even though the TTM age group swim start is pretty violent compared to other races. It was the same way last year (I'm glad I had noted this in last year's race report). It's just a lot of bodies crammed into a narrow starting area. I sometimes wait 7 or 8 seconds before starting the swim to give myself room, but this year I went when the buzzer sounded. I started toward the back of the pack. I didn't get kicked, I just got swum over and bumped into, and I kept swimming into a girl doing backstroke. She did backstroke faster than I could do freestyle. Sigh.

I swam in a pretty straight line - at least, better than previous years.

Yes, this is "pretty straight" for me and very much "better than previous years."

I kept bumping into backstroke girl, and sometimes I would get a good mouthful of water. That doesn't bother me much mentally, but physically I must've been swallowing air like I do a lot... and I hadn't taken a Gas-X like I sometimes do to help with the bloating during the swim. I'd been aware of the sound of my breathing, and although I felt I could breathe fine, it sounded a little raspy. I just made a mental note and carried on.

I rounded the second turn buoy and started the third and final leg of the swim. I was feeling pretty good, swimming comfortably and focusing on form. About 100yds from the finish, I felt my throat get tight. It felt like I'd swallowed an egg whole and it had lodged in my throat. I was fairly certain it was an air bubble that couldn't find its way out, but I wondered if it was my airway closing up. I looked around for a boat and there was one nearby. I thought, if I'm having an asthma attack, I'll have to wave to the boat and climb aboard, and somehow get to T1 and grab my inhaler (which I had already used before the race). Then I'll take more puffs, which will make my heart race. And I might OD. I felt the panic surge through my entire body - legs felt like jelly, arms got weak, head was swimming, heart was racing. I had maybe 75yards to go, and I had to decide whether to just keep going or to wave for help. I thought it might just be an air bubble and anxiety, but then thought I might die that way because it really was asthma. I decided to keep swimming and reassess when I got to shore. I also decided that triathlons/races aren't good for me anymore.

Relieved to have not died.

 

I survived the swim. My swim time was MUCH slower than last year. Like, three minutes slower. And I was slow last year! Unbelievable.

Usually on the bike leg, my plan is to start easy for 5 minutes to get my heartrate down from T1, then take off. But I didn't - I went fairly hard from the get-go. At least, I was working hard, but I wasn't going very fast. I should've done my usual plan. Learning experience! Ding ding!

A few miles into the bike, I was working hard and breathing hard, and with every deep breath I thought I felt my heart skip. I tried to tell myself it was an air bubble... my stomach was bloated and upset from the air I swallowed on the swim - but it really freaked me out. But I just kept on going. I felt like I had dueling personalities: On one shoulder was the Angel of Reassurance: "You're strong and healthy. You just did an Ironman, for God's sake." On the other shoulder was the Asshole of Anxiety: "Yeah, you just did  an Ironman, which is terrible for you and damaged your heart and caused inflammation and YOU ARE GOING TO DIE." I punched the asshole in the throat and kept going.

Usually on that course I fall apart on the last 3 miles of the bike leg, but for once, I felt strong and really killed those last 3 miles. "Really killed" means "didn't want to puke or quit and I passed several people and NOBODY PASSED ME." My overall bike time was slower than last year's, as I thought it might be - but I felt like I went fast! Sigh. At least only one female passed me during the bike leg, and I passed a good number of people.

At T2 I started to run out without my race number. Doh! I ran back for it then took off. I made myself slow down because in my race report last year, I noted I ran too fast out of transition and up that first hill and paid for it later. So this year, I shuffled uphill slowly and made the left turn into the rolling section.

As I approached The Hill on mile 2, I saw my friend Ken in front of me. I was tired and was trying to come up with a walk/run strategy for the hill. Of course, I should've done that before the race... Anyway, I caught up with Ken (who looked REALLY strong and had a great race) and asked him what his plan for the hill was. He said, "Run up it." Dammit!. So I ran up it with him. I really, really wanted to walk! The only times I walked were the water stops. There were 3 water stops on the run and I walked all of them! On a sprint! Wow.

One of the greatest things about this race is seeing all your friends during the out and back run leg. On my way out, I tried to shout encouragement to everyone that was on their way back. Of course, I really wanted be on my way back at that point... Anyway, this was my first race as a member of the Cycle Center Tri Team, and it was FANTASTIC to race with my teammates. I wish I had better words to describe it.

I had figured I'd finish in the bottom third of my age group, but ended up with 5th, even though I was 4 minutes slower overall than last year. Of course, AG placement is mostly about who shows up that day - and that's out of my control. Some of the usual suspects weren't there; had they been, I definitely would've finished lower.

My run was only 4 seconds slower than last year, but last year was way hotter, so comparatively, I was much stronger then. On the bright side, I didn't do as poorly as I'd thought I would. But getting slower is awful, and I did not enjoy much of the race because of my fears.

Jeff & Sophie came to see the race, and Ken pulled me up The Hill

After the race, I didn't bounce back to normal as quickly as I usually do. JC and Sophie were there, and they walked around with me. Even after 10 minutes I still felt pretty shitty. I told Jeff that and he reminded me that you're supposed to feel shitty after a race (but usually for me it doesn't last that long). It took a while, but I finally got back to mostly normal. EXCEPT I got The Headache.

The Headache is the post-exercise headache that puts me out of commission for 24 hours. I warmed up slowly and thoroughly, I hydrated well, I took plenty of electrolytes, I took in proper fuel before, during and afterward, I didn't overheat, I cooled down almost immediately after the race... This is just so frustrating. I got through 6 months of Ironman training and over 16 hours of a very hot Ironman without getting The Headache. Then in one 90 minute race, I'm knocked on my ass again. The only variable that's different is intensity. I will have to keep an eye on this and see if high-intensity exercise is the culprit. If it is, then I'll have to decide if racing or even doing speedwork is worth it.

Anyway, that's everything. I'm sorry if you read through this entire report; I really just wanted to get it all out for myself, so I could reflect back on it later (before next year's TTM, when I will surely DOMINATE it, for a change). As frustrating as this race was this year, I've found several nuggets of goodness: I had a "fairly straight" swim, I had negative splits/appropriately increasing intensity on the bike & run legs, I overcame the anxiety (or at least I didn't let it stop me), and I thoroughly enjoyed racing with so many friends and teammates.

My next race is in 4 weeks: the Tom Hoskins Memorial Triathlon. But in a crazy turn of events, I'm not doing the tri. I signed up for the duathlon! Since making this decision to try something new, I'm excited and motivated again. I really want to do well, and I really want to not be afraid of dying. How hard could it be?

Today Is The Day!

I wanted to write a long post about all the happenings of the past week. It was week 2 of the 3-week Peak Phase and it went well. I finished it feeling strong and ready to take on THE Peak Week (which is happening RIGHT NOW!!!!).

I wanted to write about my awesome friends who participated in the TryCharleston Relay, who got up at 5am and stood in the pouring rain when it was 53 degrees, in the dark, just to cheer on the swimmers on their teams – even though we swimmers could neither hear nor see them whilst swimming.

I thought I’d mention that I enjoyed my relay swim immensely, so much so that I swam extra slowly so I could enjoy it longer. Yeah, that’s why I’m slow.

I wanted to write about my relay teammates and competitors who pushed themselves hard during their bikes and runs even though they knew they weren’t going to win anything.

I wanted to write about my friend who, when he discovered an hour before setting up for the half-iron distance race that he had brought cycling shoes without cleats and would have to pedal 56 miles on Speedplay lollipop pedals in his running shoes, said “It’s alright. No biggie. I could’ve been born without legs. This is nothing. It’s all about the journey.” Then crushed a 5:09 overall with a monster bike split. (Note to self: Be like him.)

I wanted to write about how hard it is to stick to your training plan and stay in your 16-17mph Zone 2 heartrate zone for a ride when everyone else is taking off and it’s a beautiful day and you want to chase them. Or how I screwed up my nutrition (not enough calories, carbs, electrolytes or fluid) on the bike ride because my stomach was upset for the first time on a ride in a long time.

 

I had considered mentioning the various body parts that ache or click or are numb or don’t feel quite right, but these things will hopefully heal during taper – if I can just survive until then – but I decided not to focus on the negative. Besides, everybody hurts, and nobody wants to hear about it!

I really, really wanted to write about how lucky I am to have married such a kind, loving, understanding man, who, when I mentioned I might want to race Augusta Half Ironman again but was afraid he wouldn’t want me to spend all that time training, said “I understand. It’s what you do. We’ll make it work.” (Not sure I'm going to race it, just glad to know I can.)

I wanted to write that I am ready. I am so ready to race Ironman Texas and I am totally going to win. Or maybe not win, but absolutely finish and enjoy it. I can do it. I know I can.

I wanted to… But I won’t.

Instead, I’m going to write about my doctor appointment this morning. (Aren’t you glad you’re reading this blog?) Five weeks ago, she told me I had asthma and prescribed an inhaler and a preventive medicine. I couldn’t tolerate the preventive meds so per her instructions I’ve just been using the inhaler. However, I haven’t used it regularly – just when I felt I needed it – and only half a dose at a time.

Today, she read me the riot act. She told me of a local surgical tech, a woman, who was about my age and in great shape, who didn’t have her asthma controlled and she died alone at home when she had an attack.

Then she had my other doctor, whom I love and trust, call me and tell me how she has permanent lung damage already because she didn’t use her meds regularly when she was in med school and thought she knew everything, and let her asthma go untreated (or poorly treated) for a while.

I told my doc I was afraid to take the whole dose because I might have an attack and need another dose – and I didn’t want to OD. So I would take one puff before exercise (half a dose) and carry the inhaler with me and use it if needed (second half of dose). Perfectly logical, right? Yes, I thought so too. Thank you. You are very smart.

She didn’t see it that way. She thinks I should take the full dose, regularly, as prescribed, so I can breathe, so I can avoid causing permanent damage to my lungs, so I can not die. Then – get this – she prescribed more meds!

Here I am, three weeks and four days before Ironman Texas, and I’m starting a new medication. Steroids. And these steroids won’t even make me recover faster or get bigger muscles. They will, however, help me breathe – and she mentioned that breathing might come in handy for swimming, biking, running, and also just living.

In order to get even with her, I cried. I cried and cried right there in her office. I cried while we talked, I cried while I had an EKG (results were normal - hooray!), I cried in between breaths into the lung function machine, I cried while I took the first dose of steroid, I cried while they drew blood for labs (but I still watched, because seeing your own blood pouring out of your body - when controlled and on purpose - is really fascinating).

Today is the day I accept that I am not a stunningly healthy 23 year old. This cough and labored breathing are not “post-viral” or “just allergies” and they are not going to magically go away. I finally believe and accept that I am 39 and one-twelfth years old and yes, I do indeed have adult-onset asthma. And yes, it can be a big deal. And yes, I need to take it seriously.

But, hey, I could’ve been born without legs. This is no biggie. All part of the journey.

  

PS – I hope I haven’t offended anyone who was actually born without legs. If I have, I give you permission to say, “Well, at least I didn't get asthma as an adult.”

200 Mile Relay, Cold Swim, & Boston Marathon

It's hard to write this post. Today, at the 117th running of the Boston Marathon, multiple bombs exploded near the finish line, maiming dozens, injuring over a hundred, and killing at least three people. I don't even know what to say. It's hard to process it.

Tonight I ran 45 minutes and thought about the marathoners, their families and friends, the emergency personnel, the volunteers, and the race officials. I wish there were something I could do to help. The only thing I could think of was to run. It just seemed right.

Unfortunately, the run was painful. My calves, shins and ankles are still tight from the running I did Friday & Saturday in the Palmetto 200 Relay. I stopped to stretch at least 5 times. I got a little looser by the end, but not much. I see Dr. Awesome tomorrow, and I'm hoping he can work these kinks out.

The relay was a blast. I ran legs 1, 13 and 28. Leg #1 was about 5.6 miles and started at 1:30pm in full sun. It. Was. Hot. I carried a water bottle and needed it refilled halfway through. Although I was hot, I didn't overheat. I think I paced myself pretty well, saving some gas for the next two legs. Average pace: 8:50.

Leg #13 was only 4.2 miles. I ran it at 11pm through the forest. It was dark and I was alone. I was grateful to have our van pass by every once in a while. Running in the pitch dark felt like an out-of-body experience. It was pretty creepy. Average pace: 8:30.

Leg #28 was my favorite distance: 12k (7.4 miles). I ran at about 8am on 2 hours of sleep. Surprisingly, I felt fantastic. Since it was my last leg, I pushed pretty hard. I finally had my first two kills of the relay (a "kill" is when you pass a runner from another team; considering the events of today, I'm a bit embarrassed to use that word). I sprinted to the end and handed off the "baton" (a blue slap-bracelet) to JC and promptly had an asthma attack. It was the exact same feeling I had immediately after finishing the Augusta Half Ironman - like someone had stuffed wet sponges into my chest. I could breathe out just fine, but breathing in didn't seem to work. The good news is, I remained calm, and I had my inhaler with me, so I took a puff and walked around to let my heartrate come down gradually. I felt better very quickly. 

I'm kind of glad that happened. It was a good experiment to see how I would react and how well the inhaler would work. It gives me some reassurance that I can handle future attacks.

Other good news:

• My average pace for the final leg was 8:10, which A) is the fastest I've run since the Ray Tanner 12k last fall (7:45 pace), and B) was 20 seconds faster than the previous leg, on fatigued legs and very little sleep. My body feels strong.
• Our team (Columbia SC Marathon) came in third in the mixed division.
• I got to share the experience with my wonderful husband JC.
• I didn't have any "goose bumps" during my hot runs, which used to be a big problem for me in the heat.
• I didn't get the post-exercise headache that I used to get after hot or tough workouts. I think I've finally figured out the problem: I just wasn't taking in enough electrolytes, especially salt. I sweat very little, and am not a salty sweater at all; plus, I have to be careful with salt intake because it exacerbates a condition I have called Meniere's Syndrome. Too much salt triggers hearing disturbances and crippling vertigo. But I have increased my intake during exercise lately, and it seems to be doing the trick. 

Columbia SC Marathon team after finishing in just over 25 hours. These are really great people.

Sunday, I joined some friends for my first open-water swim of the season. Lake Murray's water temp was still around 60 degrees, but I gave it a go. It was.... interesting. First, it took me a long time to get my wetsuit on; somehow, the extra pounds I'm carrying have made me bigger. Who knew?!? 

I took my time getting into the water. It was quite cold, but it wasn't the most miserable experience ever. (Peeing in your wetsuit helps warm it up.) But putting my face in was a different story. I spent a few minutes putting in first my chin, then my right ear, then my left ear, then my nose... Eventually, my whole face made it in. It took my breath away!

I swam a few strokes, but the cold water made me feel disoriented and dizzy. I swam a total of 150
yards before getting out. I felt dizzy and icky (and a little drunk) for a few minutes, but it eventually passed. So, basically, I spent an hour to swim a total of 3 minutes. Kudos to the folks who actually got their swims done.

So, here we are in the second of three peak weeks. This week is a slight cut-back from last week - long run is only 14 miles, and long ride is only 4 hours - then it'll be THE peak week. I'm ready.

Great news! I have asthma!

 

Sometimes I think I should've named this blog "The Bright Side Is..." or maybe "Polyanna." I can't help it - I'm always looking for the bright side of things. Today was a good opportunity for that.

I had my first appointment with my new doctor. She was very thorough, and she was able to shed light on some things my previous physician had not been able to help with. For example, I always thought I had "a touch of exercise-induced asthma" that never caused much of a problem. She gave me a lung fuction test, asked a million questions, gave me a breathing treatment, tested my lung function again, and informed me I do have asthma - but not the cool athlete type. Just the normal nerdy type.

I was a bit surprised at first, but after talking with her, it all makes sense. I won't go into the litany of clues over the years (which now all seem to make the diagnosis crystal clear). I will say that my test score was a bit low ("like that of someone with pnuemonia," to quote the doc). But after the breathing treatment, I showed much improvement. I came home with two prescriptions and am already feeling better. It's funny the bad things you don't notice (like not being able to take a deep breath) until they get better. I'm actually sitting here enjoying breathing. Okay, I can't believe I just typed that. Maybe I'm giddy with oxygen.

Why is this good news? Because now that I know there's a problem, we can fix it. And fixing it will mean more oxygen, which will make me stronger and faster! MUST GET FASTER!!!!