What a difference two decades make!

Back in 1990 when I was commuting from Chicago to St. Joseph, MI to play in the Southwest Michigan Symphony, if you had suggested I would come to St. Joe to do a half-iron triathlon, I probably would have suggested you put down the crack pipe. After I stopped laughing.

Fast forward to 2010. I was one of 48 Team in Training members from MI, IL, and IN. Our group was a wonderful mixture of old and young, newbies and veterans. Our common thread was that we had each raised several thousand dollars for the Leukemia and Lymphoma Society, and had dedicated our races to honored heroes. My race was in honor of my brother-in-law Jim, who is currently fighting not one, but several types of lymphoma.

Race Day, July 31, 2010

You want us all in the hotel lobby WHEN? Really? Groan. 4am finds lots of groggy-eyed and nervous TNT members picking at breakfast and doing a lot of general fidgeting. We carpooled to the beach, and set up our transition area. It was nice not to have to deal with getting the bike there, since we had racked them the previous day. Most of us were completely set up before 5am, when the rain started. We found a pavillion to sit under and watch the lightning, and hoped the announcer was correct that the weather would skirt us to the north.

The Swim

By 6:30 it was time to get the wet suit on and walk to the swim start. The swim had two starting points, depending on the current that day. Either way, it was a 1.2 mile walk down the beach, with hordes of other participants and very slow-moving spectators. What should have taken about 20 minutes took around 40. The race organizers did a very poor job of informing us exactly WHERE the swim gear check was, and many of us had bags with sandals and other miscellany, since we weren't allowed back into transition after 6:30. I jogged the last quarter-mile and got there just as my swim wave was going onto the beach. Where's the gear check? Just up there, about 150 yards away up the sand dune and out of sight. Oh now that's really convenient. Luckily there were some TNT supporters standing nearby, and I just gave the bag to them and asked them to check it when they could. Sheesh.

Unbelievably, Lake Michigan was a balmy 76 degrees. Wow that was nice. It was easy to sight, as the buoys simply followed the coastline back to transition. Keep the beach to your right and let 'er rip! Haha, yeah, like I'm a fast swimmer. However, the current was extremely helpful and I surprised our coach Sean when I showed up at transition about 10 minutes sooner than expected. 46 minutes! Best swim ever.

Transition was a very long slog through loose sand, back up to the bikes. I jogged some of it, but took my time. Got to the bike and washed the sand off my feet. Considered firing up the hibachi to dry out the socks, but wrung them out instead. At least the bike shoes have drainage holes.

The Bike

After a 5-minute T1 (transition 1), I left on the bike. Had the ride of my life, despite discovering that the tune-up instead had totally jacked up my gearing. Sometimes it would shift up, often not quite all the way down, and forget changing to the big ring in front. Had to slam the gears around to get them to shift, and did the entire distance (on rolling hills) using the smaller ring. However, I felt great and had a terrific ride. My biggest concern was that I would drop the chain, or worse yet, break it from having to slam it around so much. I passed five or six people with flats, and hoped that wouldn't happen either. Finally, at 54 miles and 3:07, my back tire blew. I sped up, and probably made it a few hundred more yards before it was completely flat.

Theoretically, I know how to change a tire. I actually have done it once. Was it worth the time? No. Was it worth trying to at least jam a CO2 cartridge in it and see if it would hold maybe another half mile? Sure. Was I successful? No. Don't know if it was user error (most likely), destroyed valve, or what, but it didn't work. So I walked it in, and had an extra-long T2. Got a lot of encouragement from spectators coming down the chute, and quite a few offers of help from other racers, which was nice.

Note to self: Stop being such a girl and learn how to quickly change a bike tire.

The Run/Trudge

I don't recommend walking two miles in bike shoes. It's hell on the shins. It felt heavenly to put on my (now almost dry) running shoes and start to jog a little. I felt ok on the run, but definitely did not eat enough on the bike and simply ran out of fuel. I had already taken several gels, and had eaten half a PowerBar and banana, and consumed all of my protien/carb drink on the bike, but it wasn't enough. I couldn't run far at a time, so alternated very short walk breaks with marginally longer running stints. The aid stations and volunteers were wonderful, with bananas, gels, water, Gatorade, and cups of ice, so I just kept trying to eat something. It helped, but the damage was done. I had to walk quite a bit, but was able to finish in a respectable (for me) 2:38. Many thanks to our coach Sean who found me at mile 10, let me whine a little bit, then encouraged me.

The Joys of Perimenopause

TMI warning: If you are not the least interested in the adventures of being a perimenopausal woman, you may want to skip this section.  Consider yourself warned.

Mother Nature decided why have one period this month when I can have two? The rude surprise began at 9am Friday morning. Perfect. I was lucky it was not the full-blown chronic fatigue of July Period #1, but still... Got through the swim and bike feeling great, then around mile 3 of the run my back just started killing me. Men, if you want to experience the joys of racing with your period, have your running partner smack you in the back with a 2x4, behind your kidneys. Then run. Every time the pain starts to subside even a little, have your partner smack you again. Keep running. Do this for five miles. Do it until you think you're gonna puke. Then stop with the smacking and enjoy the rest of the run. Prostate exam or racing with periods? Hmmm. Not sure which is more joyous.

The Finish

Sucked it up and jogged it in, even though it darned near killed me! Official time was 7:14:36, but I still consider it my PR. I lost 30 minutes walking the bike in, so probably would have had a time closer to 6:50 without the flat. Under 7 hours, in any case. So I'll take it.

I'll also take the quick recovery. No aches and pains to speak of. Neck is slightly stiff from being aero on the bike, which was also a milestone for me. I was down in the aero bars more than ever before, for the entire 54 miles, only coming up for aid stations and sharp course turns. Thank you Nebo Ridge for an outstanding bike fitting! Sunday was a wonderful massage at Massage Envy, and this morning a much-needed adjustment from my chiro Dr. Drew. Between that and coffee, life is good!

Team Indiana at 4 a.m.!

First Ultra, on a Trail

Well, I have survived my first ultra, the Hawthorn Half-Day Relay. It was on a 5k trail loop, and the objective was to see how many times you could complete a loop in 12 hours. I managed to eek out 13 loops in 11.5 hours, before the feet insisted I stop. That was good enough for second place in the Masters female category, so I got to take home a cute little trophy. Not bad for a first attempt!

The race was in Terre Haute, about an hour southwest of Indianapolis, in a very nice park (with plumbing!). There were 15-16 relay teams of six runners, a few teams of two runners, and about 80 crazy people like me who were doing the whole thing alone, including some racewalkers. At the beginning/end of the 5k loop they had us all set up in a field, so it was easy to stop and grab something, sit down a bit, whatever.

We started at 7am, thankful that the pouring rain had stopped an hour earlier. The first part of the course had a mudpit section that you had to dance around (or risk losing a shoe), but thankfully that was the only messy part. The first mile went around a small lake that was full of geese, ducks, turtles, and very loud croaking toads. An heron took off from the shore, but that was the only one I saw. The large goose family was very entertaining...about 15 children following one parent into the water, with the other parent bringing up the rear.

The humidity was 99%, and the high got up to 95, so the heat index was somewhere over 100. I've never had my shorts completely soaked and dripping water when it wasn't raining. They finally dried out around 5pm. The glasses quit fogging up sometime around noon, I think. Everyone was suffering, and we all slowed down as the day wore on. The relay teams held up pretty well -- their runners were getting some decent rest in between loops, so a lot of them were able to keep flat-out running for the full 12 hours. Very impressive.

Nutrition
Given the heat, my biggest concern was electrolytes. The race organizers provided wonderfully cold water and nicely diluted Gatorade, so I filled up my water bottle with both before starting each loop. They also had a nice variety of munchies, with bowls of nuts, dried cranberries, bananas, gummy bears, etc. I tried to grab something every time I passed through. I had a cooler of munchies too, and grabbed stuff out of there pretty regularly. I started the day with two packets of instant oatmeal with raisins and dried cranberries, and that held for two loops. Food for the rest of the day included a peanut bar, two Zone bars, peanut butter on a small slice of bread, and a protein shake, in addition to the several bananas and mass quantities of water/Gatorade.

Strategy
I tried to do two loops at a time without really stopping. I'd take a few minutes to drink more cold liquids, fill the bottle, grab a banana, and go. After every two, I took more time. Stopped by my cooler, sat down, hit the restroom, laid down on a bench, whatever. After six laps I changed my shoes. After 10 laps I changed my socks. Not that it helped much. The dogs were screaming pretty loudly for the last two loops. It hurt just as much to jog as it did to walk, so it was a bummer when the knees finally told me I was done jogging after mile 37. The last loop was a pitiful stagger, as each step was at a unique angle, so there was no finding a comfortable way to plant the foot. Blisters were minimal so all is well.

Recovery
Thankfully, minimal. Sunday was a wonderful massage over at Massage Envy (love those people!) and lots of sitting around with the feet up. Monday was a half-hour training session Monday morning, followed by a stop at the chiro's office. Am walking normally and feeling great, but no jogging/running until the sprint tri Saturday.

If you're considering trying an ultra, this is the way to do it. The only pressure is on yourself, you can rest whenever you want, and it's a very laid-back environment.

Gotta love it!

Stunningly helpful spellcheck from Adobe

Using InDesign...

Heck of a fallback when you don’t know a word, isn’t it? Here’s my guess:

It’s 4am.

You’re the programmer responsible for building the spellcheck database. Deadline is this morning at 8am. Because you’ve spent the last three months developing your Grand Theft Auto skills, there’s a assload of words missing.

Writing code to handle unknown terms is not an option: you’ve run out of time. You’re jacked up on Mountain Dew and Skittles, and feeling the greasy pepperoni pizza starting to work its way downward. You must come up with a solution. Now.

Simplest solution is just to pick a default suggestion.

Hmmmm.

Where’s the dictionary? You know, the paper kind that Luddites use? Let’s just drop it on the floor, see where it opens, and randomly jab our finger at a word. That’ll be the default.

My second half-ironman

This was step 1 of the Grand Plan.

The plan? Ironman Louisville 2011, on my 50th birthday.

Part of the Grand Plan is to do two 70.3 races this year. A Half-Ironman consists of a 1.2-mile swim, a 56-mile bike, and a 13.1-mile run. This was the first of the two. The second is the Steelhead 70.3 in Michigan at the end of July, which I am doing with Team in Training.

While I would have loved to finish in 7 hours, my goal was really to relax, enjoy the experience, and see where I stood in my training. In addition, I only had one day to adjust to being out of the car after an 1100-mile ride. This was my first tri of the race season, so there was no good reason to risk blowing up and paying for it the rest of the summer.

Once again, two very special people were there to support me, Paula and Shirley. Shirley drove down from Houston and was my unofficial photographer. Paula was my co-driver from Indianapolis, and we actually managed to enjoy the ride. (She laughed at the "Arkadelphia" sign for some strange reason.)

At the pre-race meeting Saturday afternoon, we learned that the morning's sprint and olympic distance tris had cancelled the swim due to high winds. Even though we were swimming in a harbor, apparently the winds were so stiff that the water was unsafe. I really hoped that wouldn't happen Sunday...then it wouldn't be a tri, would it?

Checked in the bike and found that I had a very nice spot in transition: right at the end of a row, equidistant from both the bike in/out and run out, very easy to find.

The alarm went off at 5 a.m. Ate instant oatmeal and a banana, and drank a Costco-brand slim-fast. I briefly wondered what I had gotten myself into (once again) and how it would go, despite visualizing a strong happy finish.

The Swim

Turned out the weather was perfect. There was the usual coastal wind, but otherwise the water was fine. The temperature was 72.7...wear the wetsuit or not? I went the lemming route, and chose to wear the sleeveless suit. Turned out to be perfect. I was in Wave 12, with all the other women 45 and up. One woman confessed that she had never done a tri, and had only done pool swims, clear evidence that she was certifiable. I just listened as another woman tried to give her swim advice. Oy. I don't know if she finished or not, but I wouldn't want to be introduced to open-water swimming in a 1.2 mile race.

Water had some swells, but nothing too bad. Typical chop. Typical thrashing and whacking and kicking from other swimmers. The woman that grabbed my ankle several times was annoying, once I realised she wasn't in trouble, just obnoxious.

T1

Took a few seconds to get used to being vertical again. Was a little lightheaded upon standing, but managed to keep moving forward. And this race had wetsuit strippers. Cool! Sure made getting that darned thing off a lot easier. Just unzip, pull it down to your waist, flop on the ground, and let them do the rest. Sweet!

The Bike

Ah, the coastal winds. Because my swim didn't even start until an hour after the pros/elites, and my swim was slow (57 minutes), the leaders were at the bike turnaround while I was in T1. We could hear the announcers talking about how the leaders now had a tailwind. Oh good! We actually get a tailwind? Awesome. Something to look forward to.

The ride was fine, but my crotch gave out long before the legs. There were four aid stations, and I stopped and stood up at each one. I'm a total slug on the bike, and don't train nearly as much as I should (this is not a good thing). This race was my third ride of the season, and I had a painful reminder of why I need to spend more time in the saddle. Ouch!

The third aid station was a stark reminder of how badly a day can go wrong. I was standing, taking some water and chatting with a volunteer, when a young lady came through. She was going very slowly, reaching out to grab a bottle of water. Next thing I knew her bike was sliding out from under her, and she was on the ground. I fully expected to see her trying to sit up, but it was much worse. She was lying face down, hands down by her sides, very still. There was an ambulance at each station, so paramedics were there before I could even get going again.

I left with an awful feeling in the pit of my stomach, somewhat shaken. I never did see her move at all. It looked like she hadn't even tried to stop her fall. Not good. I was finally getting back in the rythm around mile 32 when I saw the life flight chopper coming. A few miles later it passed me again, on the way to the hospital. Damn. Her race ended in the worst possible way.

Mile 55. Still looking for that effing tailwind. Westerly crosswinds never did let up, ever. I think I had maybe a quarter mile of relief, somewhere in the last 3 miles. Actually got up to 20mph with no effort...a sharp contrast to the average of 15mph. Ugh.

T2

The winds were particularly brutal for mile 56. I was very happy to ride up to the dismount line and get off the bike. Took my time in transition, sucked down a warm gel and some warmer Gatorade, and headed out for the run. Or rather, the trudge.

The Run

Surprisingly enough, the run didn't feel too bad. I was tired, but nothing hurt, and when I was actually able to try to run, it wasn't too pitiful. The run consisted of four loops, which did get a bit tiresome, and the entire run was on concrete, the worst possible surface. It was especially cruel when the course went right by the water park (Schlitterbahn), and you could not only see the rides (and cooling water), but could also hear the screams of people that were much more comfortable.

But there were more than enough water stops, complete with gels and sponges soaked in ice water. Those are heaven on a warm day. Since I'm so slow on the bike, my run started in the heat of the day, around 12:30. I think it was only 82 or something and blissfully humidity-free, but I'm not used to that yet, so it felt pretty hot.

Finally got through loop 4, and was able to head straight to the finish line. There was a 53-year-old ahead of me though. Oh hell no. I sprinted to the finish and was able to pass her. Ha! Take that!

Collected my hug from Paula, then wandered over to the food tent. Not like I could eat anything for a while; the food was for later. Found a grassy shady place to sit down, and took off the shoes. Bliss. Paula and Shirley returned with very comfortable flip flops, we checked the time, and headed over to the paddle boat for a cruise. The race was at Moody Gardens, and the previous day we bought tickets that included a boat ride in the harbor. What the heck, there's beer on the boat, it was a beautiful day, I felt great, and Shirley and Paula HAD to be bored from standing around for over 7 hours.

Overall, the race was a raging success. While there were a few "what the hell am I doing" moments, there was no suckage. I got tired on the run (lesson: eat ALL of the solid food you took with you on the bike!), but it wasn't painful or awful. I left gas in the tank at each phase. This was an assessment race, so I took it easy and focused on form. Felt really good at the finish and had absolutely no soreness later. Am extremely pleased that, though slow, I am now much more consistent with my times: I don't really slow down during the course of the race. Had a wonderful visit with my parents the next day in Austin, and headed back to Indianapolis Tuesday.

Most importantly: the volunteers were not only plentiful and helpful, they were very pleasant. It was wonderful to see so many smiling faces throughout the course!

Pictures can be found here.

Times

Total 7:20:22
Swim 57:56
T1 5:37
Bike 3:37:24
(splits 1:50:15/1:47:12)
T2 3:07
Run 2:36:18
(splits 4 loops 38:58/38:44/39:47/39:39)

Creative aircraft maintenance

Why is it always such fun to fly out of Houston? Why is a two-hour flight NEVER two hours?

After getting up at 5:40am to catch a 7:30 flight back from Houston, I arrived at my gate to hear that the cockpit crew was there, but we were waiting on the flight attendant to arrive on another flight. Of course, that flight was 30 minutes late. 45 minutes later she shows up, and then they announce that there is no captain. Not sure what happened to the original one, but they found Doogie Howser in the lounge and dragged him to our gate. Two hours later, we departed.

After settling into my seat, I notice a very, um, interesting "repair", shown below. Is this a fine example of Express Jet's high maintenance standards? Resolution is poor, but if you look closely you can see the mysterious brown spots on the ceiling. It's not clear what the used napkin/whatever is supposed to accomplish.

The fun continued with a non-flushing lav that was vaguely reminiscent of Trans Air Congo. UGH.

Got back, and waited forever for my gate-checked luggage. By the time I got my bag at the gate, the stray unclaimed checked luggage was floating around the baggage claim area.

I didn't photograph the window frame that was pulling away from the fuselage.

A little piece of history

Sandblasters circa 1995 or so. My brother is the bass player.

Spinning = suckage

No further comment needed.