A Tale of Two Tights

Last week I was fortunate enough to be gifted a pair of recovery tights.  I already have a pair but thought these would come in handy as my training increases having two pair would be nice.

Tuesday I had a good 10 mile run and thought this would be a great time to test out the new tights.

My original pair of tights are Zoot similar to these but without the super cute pink stitching, mine are a few years old.  I have long felt these tights were well worth the money I spent and worth their weight in gold.  The ones I own are technically active recovery meaning you could exercise in them and these are Zoot's big Daddy tights.  My husband owns those but doesn't care for them.  They slide down his tuhkus and the stirrup style cuts into the arch of his foot.  He likes what they do for his legs but he is uncomfortable in them.

In the last couple of years my only complaint about my Zoot tights is they are tricky to get on but that is part of the whole recovery deal.  I keep telling Ken somebody needs to create spray on recovery tights! 

The new tights are CEP.  For a while now they have had a clone recovery tight that is custom to each athlete given their own measurements.  This is their first non custom recovery tight.  They look just like the clone tights.  What I like about them is they cover the heel and arch of the foot but stop short of the toes allowing you to wear flip flops and your toes don't get squished.  That is the end of the good news.  They look and feel like something your Grandma would wear.  The control top is thicker and itchy almost like wool, the rise is too high (I am 5'9"), they come up so high they kind of roll down and cut into me like panty hose (and we all hate panty hose).  The other complaint is the actual crotch of the tights.  I won't go into details, lets just say they rubbed me the wrong way.

My Zoot tights look like athletic tights, you can see the different weaves of the fabric, they are soft behind my knees and even more important the crotch is very comfortable.  I was originally reluctant to buy tights because of the panty hose feeling at the waist.  Not an issue in my Zoot's because the compression is graduated they are not tight on my tummy at all, hit me below my belly button, stay in place and they are so comfortable I often sleep in them.  I could never sleep in the CEP tights.

 I work in a triathlon store and sell plenty of recovery calf sleeves, socks and tights.  They are not a MUST have but I'd put them at the top of the 'nice to have' list for those racing longer distances. 

In closing I will say I love my CEP socks and have no idea why they didn't transfer the same technology to their tights, they missed the mark in my opinion.

5K PR!

Finally!  It has taken nearly 4 years but I finally beat my 5K PR (Personal Record).  In all honesty I haven't done a lot of 5K races but the last couple I did were disappointing to say the least.  The PR that stood this long was the Astros Race for the Pennant I did with Ken and Brendan May 2009.  Back then I didn't wear a watch, had no idea what pace I was doing or what I was supposed to do I just ran for the fun of it.

The first 5K I have a record of is May 2, 2009, Cinco de Mayo, a race I had no plans to do until a fellow BTer and local triathlete talked me into it the night before.  I was mortified at my 37:12 time.  Just a few weeks later I did the Astros race and was happy with 33:06.  After shaving 4 minutes off my 5K time in just a few weeks my expectations were high.  Silly girl.  A year later on a warm June day I attempted to PR my 5K and came up way short with a time of 35:26.  This was very discouraging but who in their right mind goes for a PR in June? 
My next attempt was another spur of the moment local 5K on a dark, rainy morning March 2012.  I had been doing speed work and thought, maybe this time.  When my good friend arrived to run with me I threw my watch at her asking her to pace me.  Due to a miscommunication on my part she was unsure of my goal pace and I missed my PR by 9 seconds. SECONDS.

Those of us who race know to get a PR the stars have to align, the training has to be solid, mind right, body strong and the weather Gods have to be on your side.  Perfect 5K temps for most of us living in the south is overcast and 50-60 degrees.  Yankees, in general, prefer 30-40 degrees but that would require most Houstonians to don parkas and it's difficult to get up to pace dressed as the Michelin man.  We don't get those PR conditions very often.

This race has been on my calendar for months.  I was really sick and tired of seeing my 5K PR date of May 2009 to the right of my screen every time I logged a workout on BT.   February seemed like the perfect time.  The weather looked good but on my way to the race I noticed the temperature at 7:00am was 76 degrees.  No bueno.  I also neglected to check out the course which, as it turns out, is not an easy/flat straightaway but a hilly out and back.  I'm glad I didn't know that part ahead of time as I know it would have given me doubts.

After telling my run coach I was going for my PR she signed up for the race to pace me.  This turned out perfect since Ken had a Duathlon the same day.  It was nice to have somebody there just for me.  Adrienne has been my coach for a few months now and I can't say enough about her.  I can be hard on people whose job it is to tell me what to do.  I chose Adrienne because of her sports psychology background.  I know there is no physical reason I am not going faster, it is what's between my ears that is holding me back.  We can only do what we believe we are capable of.

To be honest I think Adrienne was more nervous before the race than I was.  I knew she wanted this for me just as much as I wanted this.  I was my usual chatty self at the start line but once we started I was focused.  The mantra that immediately came to me was 'I can do this, this is my pace' repeated over and over in my head.   Knowing we were going to start at my targeted pace of 10:35 scared me but I trusted Adrienne.  I put my race in her hands.  I wore my Garmin 910XT so I would have my heart rate data but I didn't want to check my pace at any time.  At one point I did look at my watch and realized it was still set to bike mode which is probably best.  I had my HR information but no idea what my pace was.

The middle was the worst, we were going uphill and the doubts and those damn demons popped in my head 'you have a half marathon in a month' 'what makes you think you can do an Ironman?' I was surprised how dark it could get in such a short race.  When I got back to my mantra the anxiety and fear went away.

As we ran Adrienne fed me cues.  She told me where my line of vision should be, told me we were right on pace, I looked good and even at one point when we came upon a very overdressed guy wearing huge old school headphones told me "You're going to beat him."  The best cue she gave me was when we were approaching a hill, she got right in front of me and told me to focus on her back.  I felt my heartrate scream and wanted to walk so bad but I just kept focusing on her back and before I knew it we were cresting the hill.  This is a trick I will definitely use in the future.  I remember her saying ".3 to go" and then "2 more minutes" there was another cue after that I don't remember but I pushed with what I had left and was happy with my 32:19 time.  The goal I had given Adrienne was 10:35 and I ran 10:23.

We walked and talked after the race.  I told her when the fear creeps in it's like those dark 'bad' ghost demons from the movie Ghost who come to take the bad guys.  It is dark, they know your secrets and your fears and are just waiting for you to be vulnerable and eat you up.  At times I feel like I have to actually swat them away.  They are the voices of the people who told me I couldn't, who preyed on me when I was vulnerable who stole my innocence and a piece of my sole.
I've spent my adult life filling that hole, parenting myself and loving that little girl back to whole.
She will be with me when I cross that line.  She will be an Ironman.

Just Keep Swimming

The last two posts were about running and biking so swimming it is.

When I started in triathlon I had no background in any of the three disciplines.  However, swimming came the easiest to me.  I get asked all the time what my favorite is and usually respond "Swimming, it's the only time I'm not in pain"

Unfortunately I have hit a road block right between my ears.  Last spring I participated in the Kemah Olympic distance race for the third time.  This year the start was different.  All the athletes were on the same boat and there were no designated wave start times.  It was pretty much a mass start ala Escape from Alcatraz. 

When you arrive in Kemah you set up your transition in the dark.  Joking with friends helps cut the tension.  The announcement comes that all athletes need to move towards the boat, the boat will leave with or without you.  Going potty is important, not really an option on the boat.  We say goodbye to loved ones, don our wetsuit and walk toward the boat like zombie lemmings.  Once on the boat I try to get near the top where I can get fresh air. Palms are sweaty, breathing is quickening, heart is beating.  I try to enjoy the fresh air and make new friends.  The sky is just starting to get lighter the sun is coming but not up yet.  The boat stops.  It gets real.  I have to jump off this boat.  Your head is dizzy trying to remember what you should do - Jump far so you don't get jumped on, start swimming right away, don't forget to sight, stay calm.

It all goes to hell when you jump in and go deeper than you thought you would. Fighting to get to the surface and when you get there you get punched in the head.  Start swimming Keri!  And so it begins.  On this day we had some chop and current.  I am a left side breather which does not do me any favors in Kemah.  200 or so into my 1500 meters I go to breathe and get a chest full of gulf water.  I have a coughing fit that won't stop, my heart rate skyrockets and I have my first full on panic attack.  I tell myself it is hard to drown in a wetsuit.  I look for and find a kayak, he is not far so I swim to him.  I thank him over and over for being there and helping.  I ask his name.  Hi Dennis, I'm Keri.  I tell both of us I will be fine once I get my heart rate down, I have done this swim twice before.  Dennis tells me to take it one buoy at a time and I go.  As I swim I count every other stroke, I get to 100 and count the buoys, same number as before.  I feel like I am swimming in place, getting pulled into the gulf.  I start swimming again, go to breathe get a wave instead, coughing again, panic again, WHERE is Dennis?  I look behind me and see nothing but water forever, no Dennis, no other kayaks, no big boat.  I look ahead of me and see colorful caps bobbing, the shore is too far to see.  I get angry with myself 'they are leaving you!' 'THIS is where you are supposed to gain time, you are giving this race away!'  Being angry at myself doesn't help, at all.   To my far right I see a motor boat plucking athletes from the water.  I think about swimming the 150 or so yards but that is across, not forward.  If I get in the boat I have to surrender my chip, my day is done and I have to tell my kids I quit.  Pep talk time "Keri, nobody is going to finish this for you, just swim."  I reminded myself I am looking forward to this bike ride and even the run.  I finish the swim and the race.
After the race there were tears.  My wonderful husband allowed me the luxury of processing the very real fear I had in that water.  Just because the race was over and I made it didn't mean the feelings weren't there.

Here I am a year later and the thought of jumping off that boat is really freaking me out.  Which is why I have to do it again.  In working through my anxiety I remind myself the conditions were rough last year and I finished it!  I didn't quit.  I did it.  I will do it again.  I hope Dennis is out there but I hope I don't stop for a visit.

Reluctant Cyclist

Let's not kid ourselves here I am a reluctant triathlete.  However, when it comes to cycling I am even more reluctant. 

My husband is a great cyclist, the bike is his strong suit, this does not make my reluctance any easier.
We sat down and wrote a preliminary Ironman training plan weeks ago. I then compared the training plan he had for me to the Fink intermediate plan and his was DOUBLE the bike distance!  Silly man.  Good thing he's not my coach, I value my marriage way too much.

After weeks off the bike and months of any consistency on the bike I bit the bullet and booked a lactate threshold test.  (For my Mama friends, despite the name this test has nothing to do with lactation).  When you do a lactate threshold test on a bike you are usually on a bike trainer, in my test I was on a compu trainer making it even more fun.  My test took place at VR Cycling in Magnolia.  The guy who runs the place is great, very knowledgeable, super friendly and has a great Australian accent to boot which is really cute until he is yelling at you.  Of course he follows every command with Mate which I think is their version of passive aggressive.  It sounds like they are being friendly but it's all a ruse.

So here I am on the bike, shoes clipped in, video screen in front of me with my numbers including Heart Rate, Load, Power, Speed, Distance and percent of Load or I guess how much I am sucking.  The compu trainer gives me the load and I am trying to match with power.  He is explaining all this to me but it's not unlike having a conversation in labor - he sounded a lot like the teacher from Charlie Brown, Australian style of course.

Knowing my goal and knowing this test is 20 minutes you don't want to go too hard too early, this has never been my problem, an over achiever on the bike I am not.  I might have even waited too long to pour it on.  Steve comes by "5 more minutes Mate"!  At this point I am counting my cadence, anything not to focus on my burning lungs, burning legs and the contents of my stomach considering an early exit, he takes this opportunity to take a picture of me, sweet!
"90 seconds Mate, time to kick it in" 'lean over here Aussie boy I'd like to kick you' -- who am I kidding?  I don't have any extra energy to do anything and I am sure he knows it.  "60 seconds Mate!" Where oh where is that trash can???  If I vomit during my LT test does that give me bonus points or will they never let me back?  "15 seconds Mate!" 

When I was done he asked me how long I wanted to ride - "How about a nice tempo ride, Mate?"  My first thought was I needed to get off the bike but then I realized that would be bad and riding at an easy pace seemed prudent and rode for another 20 minutes.  Steve was celebratory, I was exhausted. The good news is the test was over.  The bad news is now my coach will have this information and future training will be based on this near puke-fest of a test.  More good news? I am supposed to do this again in six weeks.

Two days later I mustered the courage, energy and a healthy slather of Chamois Butt'r to go back.  This time I was with my husband, friend Trisha and my coach.  Started with intervals but when it was clear my cadence looked more like a threshold test we backed it off.  We rode for 90 minutes and the time flew, having friends around makes it so much easier.

I love my bike, appreciate my new saddle (after trying many on the market) and I have a great fit from the brain trust that is Retul.  It is time to make friends with cycling. 

13.1 RR

Yesterday was my first half marathon.  Well, kind of. My husband likes to remind me I did a half Ironman in 2010 which ended with a half marathon but with a still recovering shattered heel it was more of a walk than a run.

As with all races there are good and bad take-aways.  There were good miles and I took the time to enjoy those miles, 3-9 were not bad at all.  I had a plan and stuck to it until after the 10 mile mark.  I ran through the first aid station, had to stop for potty during the second mile so picked up my pace to make up that time before the next aid station.  The plan was to keep my pace around 12-12:15 until mile:75 so I would pick up the pace the last quarter before the aid station.  I tell myself I am 'earning my walk'.  I kind of came up with this plan during mile 2 and it worked well.  The last quarter of each mile my goal was sub 12:00, preferably around 11:45.

Running during a triathlon is much more fun than a foot race.  In triathlon there are no headphones allowed so there is a lot more encouragement from spectators as well as other racers. Now that I am used to running without music I get kind of lonely during foot races when everyone is in their own world and nobody is chatting. 

After the potty stop I saw Karen so I ran up to her, swatted her behind and we exchanged a few words.  She was doing a relay with Rachel so I would see her later in the race.  When I got to the half way point I saw Rachel, gave her a hug and heard Trisha & Belinda cheering for me.  This was a good mile.  My half way goal was 12:teen and I was at 12:12.

Sooner than I expected Rachel caught me. When she got to me she was huffing and puffing clearly she had really pushed herself to catch me.  We run together at least once a week so having her there was comforting.  She told me my breathing sounded good.  Another good mile.

Once we were past the half way point the sun was out and it was warm.  Who would have thought I'd be dumping water on my neck and worrying about sunscreen at a December 9 race?  This same race was freezing last year.  My good training runs are in the 60s, today was in the 80s.

When I got to 10.1 I told Rachel this was my longest run.  At this point my left IT band was bugging and I was nauseous while walking.  Mile 10 wasn't horrible but it got worse pretty quick.  My ten mile goal was 12:10, I was at 12:19.
I told myself I only had a 5K left but that is a big fat lie. It is a 5K after 10 miles, very different!

During mile 12 I had to stop to stretch my left IT band, this killed my pace.  I wanted a 12:15 average for the day but would settle for 12:30.  I remember looking down at my watch after stretching and my average was 12:28 this made me nervous because my 'running' pace was now quite slow, my feet were killing me.

Making things a bit more frustrating the mile markers were stretching out.  The first 6-7 miles my Garmin and the mile markers on the course were close but later in the race the markers were further and further out.  At 11 miles we didn't reach the marker until 11:20, twelve was 11:25 and when my watch said 13.1 there was no 13 mile marker in sight let alone a finish line. This messed with my head and I walked for a bit.  My mantra during that last mile was "run with a purpose, earn your walk' I tried to keep my head up, shoulders back, feet under me hands at my hips.  Looked at my watch and average pace was 12:31, that is NOT going to happen, I was not going to let go of 12:30!

Picked up again and the last .25 felt like a mile. There was no music and the crowd was minimal so you couldn't hear it until you were almost there.  The distance by my watch was 13.35.  The course being long is annoying but not a huge deal.  What bothers me more is the times are based on a 13.1 mile course so my paces in the results are way off.

Laid on the ground next to Karen and put my feet on a sign for leg drains. Got up to walk to pavilion and as soon as I sat down both calves seized up BAD.  I was writhing in pain. My sweet friends were running around getting drinks and food for me but nothing helped.  Finally I took my compression socks down and Karen massaged the calves.  There were moments it took everything in me not to kick her in the face but I knew it was helping.  Once I could stand and walk we headed to lunch and then home for shower and a much deserved nap. Note to self: No stopping during Ironman.

It is done. I ran further than ever before.  Next up - 13.1 March 25, hoping it will be cooler and will be looking for a PR.

Accountability

Another one of my goals before the Ironman training really kicks in is getting to a weight I am happy with. Surprisingly I am heavier now than when I started triathlon training.  Funny how some of us think our training justifies anything we put in our mouth. I know I am guilty of the "I ran X miles, I EARNED this"

I don't want the number to be one I see on A day but what is my new normal.

Which brings me to numbers. Ugh! I hate numbers!  As a woman I have looked at numbers as the enemy. 10, 160, 43 are all numbers that would make most women cringe. I don't hate all of my numbers but am ready to say goodbye to a few of them. 

I can honestly say I am proud of and take ownership of all my 43 years of age. I would not trade this for anything! Not to say I wouldn't mind a 30 year old face and 20 year old behind.  As numbers go though I can definitely live with 43.

The other numbers have become old friends, it is time to move on.  Of course my weight fluctuates. Right now my range is generally 157-163 or it was the last few times I weighed myself.  I have not had a scale for 15+ years. When I got rid of the last husband I also got rid of the scale. Having somebody in your life who thought they should have a say in what you weigh is suffocating and oppressive to say the least. Getting rid of the scale was part of taking my power back.
In the last several years I would weigh myself when I went to the gym. This way if I wasn't happy with the number I was already at the gym.  With my current training I almost never go to the gym.

Yesterday I bought a scale. My plan is to weigh myself on Wednesday only. I know if I don't set rules it will be something I do too much of. The scale also has a special place out of sight. With three daughters in the house the last thing I need is them getting on the scale every day. It starts out fun at first (since it is a novelty for them) but my concern is it becoming competition or the number on the scale determines how they feel about themselves.

Another part of holding myself accountable is writing down what I eat. Doing this makes me think twice before I eat or drink something. Do I really want to write that down? My food is logged the same place as my workouts so that makes it easy.
Having food prepared is very important.  I'm not depriving myself of anything in particular but making a big effort to make my calories count and eat food I know is good for me.

It's getting hot in here!

#1 on the getting to Ironman Arizona list is "Stay injury free".  In an effort to ward off any injuries I am practicing hot yoga. Let me clarify this is not Bikram Yoga but Hot Hatha Yoga. I have done both and while I enjoy Bikram the room is even hotter and sadly there is not a studio near me.  I practice at Sun Touch Yoga just a few miles from my home.

From their website "Hot Hatha is a 75 minute class offered in a 96 degree infrared heated room.  Designed to relieve stress, balance and strengthen the glandular system, circulation, digestion and nervous system, reshape muscles, tendons and posture. Fresh blood is brought to areas not normally affected and the whole body becomes supple and fit!  Detox and feel renewed! Move your body, free your mind!"

There is much discussion in the triathlon community whether anything other than swimming, biking and running is good for tri training. I am always surprised by the folks who think anything other than SBR is a waste of time.  When someone asks about fatigue on the bike the answer is often "bike more" as if taking the time to strengthen your upper body and core is not an option.

Dragging my sleepy tuhkus out of bed at 5:00am is not easy but getting into that hot room, seeing my friend's smiling face and   Pushing my body to places it wasn't able to go to before while getting a serious sweat on is good for ME