Hospital Hill Run, Kansas City, MO
June 4, 2011
This was half-marathon #38, and it may well have been the most difficult. Not due to lack of training, not because of the notoriously hilly course, not because of illness: not for any of the usual reasons.
It was hot and humid. Really hot. Really humid. For maybe the second day this spring, so very few of the 7000-or so participants had acclimated yet. Normally by this time it's been warm enough to be uncomfortable and to get the body used to some warmer runs. Not this year. I was far more concerned about the heat than about the hills, and it turned out my concern was well-founded. The hills really weren't unreasonable. There was one that was ridiculous, but it was very very short. The rest would have been quite do-able on a normal day.
This wasn't a normal day for most of us. It was 81 degrees when we parked the car at 6am. No clouds were to be seen, promising a very quick warmup. It was also quite humid, but it took me awhile to figure that out. I only realized it around mile 5, when it occurred to me that all the water I had poured over myself (in an attempt to cool down) was not evaporating. Shirt and shorts stayed soaking wet and dripping for the entire time we were outside.
Somewhere between miles 2 and 3, I think there was a collective decision to throw out any time expectations, and simply hope to finish without cramping, puking, or passing out. Everyone I spoke to, and there were quite a few since we were all walking anyway, had given up on achieving any particular time goal. It was clearly going to be a 13.1-mile sufferfest, so everyone hunkered down and kept moving forward, at any pace. Several wonderful people along the course brought out sprinklers and set them up in the street. Two more angels at miles 7-ish and 11-ish brought out tubs of ice for us to grab and put under our hats. Those people were genuinely appreciated. The ridiculous-but-short hill was, of course, at mile 12. There was a construction project at the top, and one of the construction workers was standing on the fourth floor with a hose, spraying us as we trudged by. He was wonderful!
I walked for a while with very nice guy named Eric, who was running to honor his brother who was two years' clean from various addictions. He wanted to show his brother that it was possible to make a major life change -- he'd only been running since his brother got clean. He had actually run this course several times in cooler weather, but the heat was more than he could handle, and he'd given up on making his time goal. I think he felt better when I told him that I was usually two miles further down the road at this point (mile 10 or so). I finally was able to attempt to jog some more after about half a mile, so said goodbye and went on my way.
I was able to trot the last few tenths of a mile to the finish, but after crossing the finish line I immediately had to find some shade and sit down before gravity pulled me down. This was the closest I have come to thinking I might actually pass out. It took about 10 minutes of sitting in the shade to cool down enough to feel like standing up again. Our little group of five gradually found each other and agreed that this one was no fun. We all expected hard, but even in the hardest races there is a sort of perverse pleasure in simply doing the distance. Not today. I seriously doubt I will be interested in attempting this one again, even though I would like to try the hills in cooler weather. Water stops were every 1.5 miles; in weather like this every mile might have helped. I took Gatorade and water at every stop, and took some electrolyte capsules a couple of times.
After a quick shower I was dropped at the airport. I ran into another group who did the same race, and they also felt the same way. No fun, just happy to finish without getting sick. But it was a heck of a training session! The hardest 2:43 and medal I have ever earned. I seriously doubt I will want the race pictures though...
Monday, June 6, 2011
Flying and thunderstorms don't mix
Ahhh the Monday morning alarm clock. Couldn't stop myself from whimpering a bit, but managed to only snooze for 10 minutes before getting up. Usually, Mondays aren't QUITE this bad, but this past weekend was jam-packed with everything but sleep.
Last week I was in Kansas City for work, and stayed to run the Hospital Hill half marathon with a co-worker and some other friends. We had the usual early-morning routine of getting up before the sun and driving down to beat the traffic. So far so good. But I knew it was going to be a tough day when I saw the time/temp sign at the bank: 81 degrees at 6am. And only going to get warmer.
The five of us managed to finish the 13-mile slogfest without collapsing, puking, or cramping, so we all considered it a smashing success (race report is coming later). We congratulated each other for finishing, then parted ways.
After a quick shower I was delivered to the airport, with a few hours to kill. No problem. KCI has free wi-fi, so I surfed and caught up on email. Sadly, the people-watching was depressing, so that wasn't really an option. My plane left as scheduled, and I was looking forward to grabbing my 15-minute flight from Chicago and getting home by 8pm. Still early enough to relax, have a beer, and catch a decent night's sleep.
Chicago's flight was delayed because our cockpit crew was late from somewhere in California. Only a half-hour, nothing to be worried about. 30 minutes becomes 45, we finally board the plane, and everyone is settling in, happy to be heading home. Except...a horrendously bad, dangerous, and large thunderstorm is sitting right over Indianapolis. Lovely. We are going to sit in Chicago and wait it out. Thankfully we were still at the gate and free to get off the plane, so it's not nearly as bad as it could have been.
Three and a half hours later, we are all herded back onto the plane. The door closes, then reopens. It was just a tease. We sit another ten minutes or so, then they close the door for real. Apparently this storm is seriously pounding the entire area, and many flights are ending in Ft. Wayne or Louisville, neither of which is desirable. Our 7pm flight departs at 10:45 or so (Central time; Indy is on Eastern time), and we literally fly 18 minutes before descending into Indianapolis. It's clear they weren't joking about the weather, as we are surrounded by lots and lots of very bright lightning and heavy rain. There is a collective sigh of relief when we land.
Only now...the ramp is closed. The lightning is so intense that it's not safe for the workers to be out there. At least we're sitting in a grounded container, so we're safe. We sit for a while, watch the pretty weather, and lust for our respective beds. Everyone is totally fried and trying not to be cranky (I failed at the cranky part). At last we pull up to the jetway, the door opens to much applause, and we are released from the torture. Kudos to Southwest for handling a really lousy situation with humor and grace. They were incredibly accommodating and did everything they could to make it less painful.
So I finally arrive at home around 12:45 or so, knowing that I have to be up butt-early Sunday to go work at a bike criterium (a series of races, good definition here) that lasts all day. I manage to carve out an extra 1.5 hours to sleep, so don't have to show up until 9am. Hallelujah! Sleep is a wonderful thing, especially with a cat nearby. Two of us work the race all day (which is actually a heck of a lot of fun), help tear down, and are done by 7-ish. The group of us went for a celebratory meal before heading home to bed.
Today I'm drinking strong coffee and feeling a bit groggy from the weekend. But it was fun! Except for the flying/thunderstorm part.
Last week I was in Kansas City for work, and stayed to run the Hospital Hill half marathon with a co-worker and some other friends. We had the usual early-morning routine of getting up before the sun and driving down to beat the traffic. So far so good. But I knew it was going to be a tough day when I saw the time/temp sign at the bank: 81 degrees at 6am. And only going to get warmer.
The five of us managed to finish the 13-mile slogfest without collapsing, puking, or cramping, so we all considered it a smashing success (race report is coming later). We congratulated each other for finishing, then parted ways.
After a quick shower I was delivered to the airport, with a few hours to kill. No problem. KCI has free wi-fi, so I surfed and caught up on email. Sadly, the people-watching was depressing, so that wasn't really an option. My plane left as scheduled, and I was looking forward to grabbing my 15-minute flight from Chicago and getting home by 8pm. Still early enough to relax, have a beer, and catch a decent night's sleep.
Chicago's flight was delayed because our cockpit crew was late from somewhere in California. Only a half-hour, nothing to be worried about. 30 minutes becomes 45, we finally board the plane, and everyone is settling in, happy to be heading home. Except...a horrendously bad, dangerous, and large thunderstorm is sitting right over Indianapolis. Lovely. We are going to sit in Chicago and wait it out. Thankfully we were still at the gate and free to get off the plane, so it's not nearly as bad as it could have been.
Three and a half hours later, we are all herded back onto the plane. The door closes, then reopens. It was just a tease. We sit another ten minutes or so, then they close the door for real. Apparently this storm is seriously pounding the entire area, and many flights are ending in Ft. Wayne or Louisville, neither of which is desirable. Our 7pm flight departs at 10:45 or so (Central time; Indy is on Eastern time), and we literally fly 18 minutes before descending into Indianapolis. It's clear they weren't joking about the weather, as we are surrounded by lots and lots of very bright lightning and heavy rain. There is a collective sigh of relief when we land.
Only now...the ramp is closed. The lightning is so intense that it's not safe for the workers to be out there. At least we're sitting in a grounded container, so we're safe. We sit for a while, watch the pretty weather, and lust for our respective beds. Everyone is totally fried and trying not to be cranky (I failed at the cranky part). At last we pull up to the jetway, the door opens to much applause, and we are released from the torture. Kudos to Southwest for handling a really lousy situation with humor and grace. They were incredibly accommodating and did everything they could to make it less painful.
So I finally arrive at home around 12:45 or so, knowing that I have to be up butt-early Sunday to go work at a bike criterium (a series of races, good definition here) that lasts all day. I manage to carve out an extra 1.5 hours to sleep, so don't have to show up until 9am. Hallelujah! Sleep is a wonderful thing, especially with a cat nearby. Two of us work the race all day (which is actually a heck of a lot of fun), help tear down, and are done by 7-ish. The group of us went for a celebratory meal before heading home to bed.
Today I'm drinking strong coffee and feeling a bit groggy from the weekend. But it was fun! Except for the flying/thunderstorm part.
Tuesday, May 17, 2011
When surviving is good enough
This past Sunday I completed my fourth half-iron distance triathlon, the Rev3 Knoxville. It was by far my hardest half. I learned some valuable things.
- "Rolling hills" at the base of the Smokies are NOT the same thing as "rolling hills" in the cornfields of Indiana.
- The mind truly is more powerful than the body.
- Cross-training works.
- Sweepers are amazing human beings.
The day started ok, with a (relatively late) wake-up of 5am. Ate two packets of instant oatmeal with raisins and drank a Muscle Milk, then headed down to transition to set up. Transition was a few blocks from the hotel/finish line, but not very far. It looked like the weather gods might actually smile for the day. Thundershowers were predicted, but it wasn't looking ominous, and the temp was around 60. Not bad.
Got transition all set up, then wandered down to the swim start to watch the pros have at it. Those folks are superhuman and very impressive to see in action. The swim was in a controlled stretch of the Tennessee River, so all the recent rain and flooding didn't affect us...except for keeping the water a nippy 65 degrees. I drank half of a Shakeology drink (protein, carbs) while waiting for my wave. We jumped off a dock in groups, treaded water for a few minutes, then prepared to swim upstream for a bit before heading back downstream to the swim exit. I jumped in, woke up very quickly, then thought, "well, it's not as cold as Chicago was".
It wasn't until the horn blew and I actually had to start swimming that I realized something was wrong. Normally I adjust pretty quickly to the temp, and can at least pretend to be swimming by the time the race starts. Not today. I couldn't get my heart rate to slow down or my breathing to settle down, even after I stopped feeling cold. My body was just not gonna play today. The swim was a pathetic mix of sidestroke while panting and 50-100 yd bursts of actual swimming. It was truly awful. Didn't feel bad, just could not find any kind of rhythm, ever. I'm sure the people on the kayaks were totally disgusted, wondering why the heck people signed up for these races if they didn't know how to swim. After a miserable hour of floundering, I finally reached the exit. Thank goodness. Maybe the bike will be better.
Took my time in transition, used the porta-john, said hello to Paula, dried off my feet and got ready for the bike. Left T1 feeling pretty good, deceiving myself that it was going to get easier.
It was better for about 3 miles, then the suckage kicked in again. Knoxville sits wedged between the Cumberland and Smoky mountains. The bike course was quite hilly for those of us used to cornfields. My body decided it was still taking a nap, so when I tried to exert myself, the legs just had no response. Ever have those dreams where you're trying to run through water or mud? That's what it felt like. As I was walking (yes, dammit, walking) the bike up a hill around mile 8 or 9, I was seriously wondering how the heck I was going to do 56 miles feeling this way. Didn't feel bad, didn't feel hungry, definitely wasn't bonking, just didn't.have.any.gas.in.the.tank. It was weird. I met Stephanie The Sweeper after I finally got to the top of that hill and climbed back onto the bike.
For those that don't know, a sweeper is someone who "sweeps" the course, staying with the the last person to help them get through it. So Stephanie cheered me up yet another hill, and finally around mile 12 I was able to pass some people and stay ahead. Stephanie then helped out the poor schmucks I passed. She was excellent, by the way, and really helped keep the mood up. I had already committed myself to trying for the 56 miles when I passed up the Olympic distance turnoff (a 25-mile ride instead). At that point I just had to take the approach of trying to complete a heck of a long training ride, and see how far I could get. I still wasn't certain I would finish, but what the hell. It was time to bond with granny-gear and forget about speed.
The hills went on and on and on. Downhills were a breather, but didn't last very long before it was back to the smallest possible gear and swearing.
Around mile 26 or so, after what felt like an eternity, it stopped being a total suckfest and became a tolerable one. It helped to realize that the cross- and bike-training really had helped, despite my lousy day. I really don't think I could have completed that course last year. I had to walk, again, up the cruel joke at mile 49 and was damned if I was going to walk up any more hills. At mile 53 or so there was yet another bad hill. This time I managed to stay on the bike, saying out loud, "Pull! Pull! Pull!" with every up-stroke, and came very close to puking at the top. But I didn't walk. The final kick-in-the-pants was a strong headwind the last 3 miles or so -- I'm not certain because the bike computer died while I was walking up that first hill back around mile 9.
FINALLY, four hours and nine minutes later, me and a couple of other stragglers crossed back over the river and I could see transition. HOORAY! I never looked more forward to a 13.1 mile run in my life!
Took a little less time in transition, so my T2 was 4:14. Got the heck out of there and on my way. The screaming shins reduced me to a trudge for the first 2 miles, but finally settled down and I was able alternate walk/run. I met a Facebook friend at mile 9 or so, a fellow tri-club member from Indianapolis. We chatted some, we bitched about the bike, and he told me his knees were killing him so he was reduced to walking pretty much the entire thing. But he was doing it! The last couple of miles I slowly gained on some young man and was able to race him through the finish chute. Would have beaten him if the announcer hadn't said "She's gaining on you! Better turn it up!" He had no idea I was behind him. He used his long legs to beat me by about a second, and I turned in a decent (for me) half-marathon time of 2:35:56.
Finished feeling really, really good, with no aches or pains anywhere to speak of. The hips were tired about mile 10 and I know that was from all the hard effort on the bike, but it wasn't anything to be concerned about. We schlepped back to transition, retrieved all my stuff and the bike and headed back to the hotel. A shower and three Advil made everything ok, and we went in search of dinner. Found a nice little place a few blocks away, had a good local brew, and was dead to the world by 9:15.
Overall, not a bad way to spend a day!
Results
Swim 1.2 mile: 1:00:24
T1: 7:06
Bike 56 miles: 4:09:09
T2: 4:14
Run 13.1 miles: 2:35:56
TOTAL: 7:56:51
Thursday, March 10, 2011
Challenge yourself!
Yesterday a friend posted this link on Facebook. Please take a look. It's pretty darned fun!
Crazy, no? And impressive. And suicidal. And all manner of adjectives. Even if you think the cyclists have taken complete leave of their senses, you can't help but admire their skill.
Now, what does this have to do with adventure racing? Nothing. Everything. First, let's figure out what an adventure race is. Wikipedia has a pretty good definition.
In short, an adventure race is a treasure hunt for grownups. You don't know the course until the race begins (at which point you are given clues about where you need to go and what you need to do there), and you have a passport that either needs to be punched or signed. You ARE told what you need to bring with you, usually a backpack of various items and a bicycle. You will do a little orienteering, some map-reading, maybe a little canoeing, and lots of cooperating with your teammates.
What's really cool about adventure racing is its flexibility. Some races are short and great for families (Amazing Adventure series), some are longer and a bit more of a challenge (Winter Rogaine), some are in the middle of the city (Urban Sprint), and some are downright crazy (30-hour Challenge).
What does this have to do with that insane video at the top of this post? Several things.
So what are you waiting for? Go out and do an adventure race!
(Pics are from the Carmel Amazing Adventure race, July 2010)
VCA 2010 RACE RUN from changoman on Vimeo.
Crazy, no? And impressive. And suicidal. And all manner of adjectives. Even if you think the cyclists have taken complete leave of their senses, you can't help but admire their skill.
Now, what does this have to do with adventure racing? Nothing. Everything. First, let's figure out what an adventure race is. Wikipedia has a pretty good definition.
"Adventure racing (also called expedition racing) is a combination of two or more endurance disciplines, including orienteering (if an orienteering map is used) and/or navigation (when non-orienteering maps are used), cross-country running, mountain biking, paddling and climbing and related rope skills. An expedition event can span ten days or more while sprints can be completed in a matter of hours."
In short, an adventure race is a treasure hunt for grownups. You don't know the course until the race begins (at which point you are given clues about where you need to go and what you need to do there), and you have a passport that either needs to be punched or signed. You ARE told what you need to bring with you, usually a backpack of various items and a bicycle. You will do a little orienteering, some map-reading, maybe a little canoeing, and lots of cooperating with your teammates.
What's really cool about adventure racing is its flexibility. Some races are short and great for families (Amazing Adventure series), some are longer and a bit more of a challenge (Winter Rogaine), some are in the middle of the city (Urban Sprint), and some are downright crazy (30-hour Challenge).
What does this have to do with that insane video at the top of this post? Several things.
- Both are unusual challenges that most people don't think about doing.
- Both give you sense of accomplishment.
- Both push you out of your comfort zone (always a good thing!).
- Both are a heck of a lot of fun.
So what are you waiting for? Go out and do an adventure race!
(Pics are from the Carmel Amazing Adventure race, July 2010)
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Friday, February 25, 2011
Random thoughts for the week
What a wonderful week it's been!
Sunday was a marathon in Austin, Wednesday and Thursday saw measurable improvements on the bike, and this weekend is a long massage. Previous to that I got to spend time with family and good friends.
Random thought #1
Holy crap, did I really do that? This week has been a huge boost to the confidence level regarding attempting an Ironman. I had no idea how I would do attempting a time trial on the 3rd day after a marathon, and it felt great. A time trial is a 20-minute hard ride (on a bike mounted on a trainer), and ours was preceded by a 30-minute warmup. I was quite pleased to see that my mph improved from 15.5 seven weeks ago to 19.5 Weds. Thursday I repeated the fun, this time in an easier gear and spinning faster, and got it up to 21.1mph. Many, many thanks to the folks at Indy Cycling Academy, who kicked my butt hard for the last two months and forced me to improve (or die).
Random thought #2
The marathon taught an interesting lesson about winter running training: don't rely solely on a treadmill. It just doesn't replicate the hardness of pavement. Made it to mile 15 feeling great, then my hips started complaining. Loudly. They were NOT happy. Feet were ok, knees were ok, legs felt fine, but every step hurt the hips. Initially I thought perhaps it was due to the lack of orthotics (first time I've gone this far without them). Being a bit slow on the uptake, several hours later I realized that the last time I ran outside was the San Antonio Rock 'n' Roll half marathon November 14. Four months! Well no WONDER my hips hurt. Yikes. OK, so at minimum, it's worth getting up early to go to the indoor track and run there. I have already invested in a pair of YakTrax for next winter, so ice and snow won't be excuses not to get out.
Random thought #3
Usually in a longer race, I see someone who shames me into working harder, or at least not whining. Not this time: this time it had to come from within. It was time to fall back on my mantra, "I'm glad I can feel pain. I'm glad I can feel pain." For miles 15-26, I thought about our friend T who was in a bad car crash Superbowl Sunday of 2006. Her entire back had been fused many years earlier due to horrible scoliosis, so when she was thrown from the vehicle the only place with any give was her neck. She struggled hard to survive the next four months, and today is still working to regain use of her limbs. Her arms are doing well, but her legs are slow to respond. She is still working to become independent. When I hurt during an event, I think of her, and how the only pain she really feels is nerve pain. I'm sure she'd be happy to feel ordinary overuse pain.
Random thought #4
Life is good.
Sunday was a marathon in Austin, Wednesday and Thursday saw measurable improvements on the bike, and this weekend is a long massage. Previous to that I got to spend time with family and good friends.
Random thought #1
Holy crap, did I really do that? This week has been a huge boost to the confidence level regarding attempting an Ironman. I had no idea how I would do attempting a time trial on the 3rd day after a marathon, and it felt great. A time trial is a 20-minute hard ride (on a bike mounted on a trainer), and ours was preceded by a 30-minute warmup. I was quite pleased to see that my mph improved from 15.5 seven weeks ago to 19.5 Weds. Thursday I repeated the fun, this time in an easier gear and spinning faster, and got it up to 21.1mph. Many, many thanks to the folks at Indy Cycling Academy, who kicked my butt hard for the last two months and forced me to improve (or die).
Random thought #2
The marathon taught an interesting lesson about winter running training: don't rely solely on a treadmill. It just doesn't replicate the hardness of pavement. Made it to mile 15 feeling great, then my hips started complaining. Loudly. They were NOT happy. Feet were ok, knees were ok, legs felt fine, but every step hurt the hips. Initially I thought perhaps it was due to the lack of orthotics (first time I've gone this far without them). Being a bit slow on the uptake, several hours later I realized that the last time I ran outside was the San Antonio Rock 'n' Roll half marathon November 14. Four months! Well no WONDER my hips hurt. Yikes. OK, so at minimum, it's worth getting up early to go to the indoor track and run there. I have already invested in a pair of YakTrax for next winter, so ice and snow won't be excuses not to get out.
Random thought #3
Usually in a longer race, I see someone who shames me into working harder, or at least not whining. Not this time: this time it had to come from within. It was time to fall back on my mantra, "I'm glad I can feel pain. I'm glad I can feel pain." For miles 15-26, I thought about our friend T who was in a bad car crash Superbowl Sunday of 2006. Her entire back had been fused many years earlier due to horrible scoliosis, so when she was thrown from the vehicle the only place with any give was her neck. She struggled hard to survive the next four months, and today is still working to regain use of her limbs. Her arms are doing well, but her legs are slow to respond. She is still working to become independent. When I hurt during an event, I think of her, and how the only pain she really feels is nerve pain. I'm sure she'd be happy to feel ordinary overuse pain.
Random thought #4
Life is good.
Friday, January 28, 2011
Visiting the Pain Cave
This week I spent some time in the Pain Cave, that place where endurance athletes tend to dwell. And it's been fabulous!
I know I'm there when I find myself chanting the mantra, "I'd rather it suck now, than during a race. I'd rather it suck now..." The Pain Cave is that special place where, intellectually, you know your body is adapting to stress, you are forcing change to happen, and upon exiting, you will feel its benefits. Non-intellectually you just wish it would end but don't dare stop until it's time. It's a place that demented people like me voluntarily enter on a regular basis, a place dedicated to self-torture...or a tremendous feeling of accomplishment, depending on one's perspective. If I have any hope of completing Ironman Louisville AND not having it be an all-day suckfest, I must spend some serious time in the Cave.
This week's visit began with a 2-hour slog session on a treadmill last Sunday. I suppose I could have run outside, but simply didn't feel like dealing with the cold, the ice, and the slush. (Kudos to those runners who braved the elements: you have my profound respect.) I don't do many long runs, but have a marathon coming up soon (Feb 20), so wanted to visit the Cave before the race. That was followed by a killer bike class three nights in a row, Tues-Thurs. There were also the Weds/Fri morning floggings by my trainer Carrie at the gym (see Wednesday's workout at the bottom of this post).
The bike class is through the Indy Cycling Academy, a couple of guys who really know their stuff. It's on your own bike, on trainers. Each class begins with 30 minutes of core exercises (off the bikes), then we hop on the bikes for an hour of serious sweating. As a dedicated non-cyclist, this class is kicking my butt all over the place. It's a bit like drinking from the fire hose, only harder. If I survive the full two months and don't improve, there is simply no hope.
As for my trainer Carrie, well...she can flog like no other.
The next few days are out in the fresh air, away from the darkness of the Cave. I think a beer is in order.
Wednesday's Full-Body Flogging
Remember, this is all in 30 minutes, with minimal to no rest.
- Run .25 mile on treadmill as fast as possible. Substitute elliptical if necessary.
- Pushups 20x
- Alternating lunges with medicine ball (10lb). Start with medicine ball over head, step forward, bend at elbows and do tri-dip over head with ball. Straighten arms up over head as you return to standing position. 20x
- Alternating lunges with dumbbells (15lb). Do the lunge, return to standing position, then do bicep curl. 20x
- Squat to front-raise. Holding dumbbells (7.5lb), do a squat. While going down into squat, raise arms straight out in front of you. Lower arms as you stand up. 20x
REPEAT ALL
Then REPEAT ALL but do 12x instead of 20x for everything.
I know I'm there when I find myself chanting the mantra, "I'd rather it suck now, than during a race. I'd rather it suck now..." The Pain Cave is that special place where, intellectually, you know your body is adapting to stress, you are forcing change to happen, and upon exiting, you will feel its benefits. Non-intellectually you just wish it would end but don't dare stop until it's time. It's a place that demented people like me voluntarily enter on a regular basis, a place dedicated to self-torture...or a tremendous feeling of accomplishment, depending on one's perspective. If I have any hope of completing Ironman Louisville AND not having it be an all-day suckfest, I must spend some serious time in the Cave.
This week's visit began with a 2-hour slog session on a treadmill last Sunday. I suppose I could have run outside, but simply didn't feel like dealing with the cold, the ice, and the slush. (Kudos to those runners who braved the elements: you have my profound respect.) I don't do many long runs, but have a marathon coming up soon (Feb 20), so wanted to visit the Cave before the race. That was followed by a killer bike class three nights in a row, Tues-Thurs. There were also the Weds/Fri morning floggings by my trainer Carrie at the gym (see Wednesday's workout at the bottom of this post).
The bike class is through the Indy Cycling Academy, a couple of guys who really know their stuff. It's on your own bike, on trainers. Each class begins with 30 minutes of core exercises (off the bikes), then we hop on the bikes for an hour of serious sweating. As a dedicated non-cyclist, this class is kicking my butt all over the place. It's a bit like drinking from the fire hose, only harder. If I survive the full two months and don't improve, there is simply no hope.
As for my trainer Carrie, well...she can flog like no other.
The next few days are out in the fresh air, away from the darkness of the Cave. I think a beer is in order.
Wednesday's Full-Body Flogging
Remember, this is all in 30 minutes, with minimal to no rest.
- Run .25 mile on treadmill as fast as possible. Substitute elliptical if necessary.
- Pushups 20x
- Alternating lunges with medicine ball (10lb). Start with medicine ball over head, step forward, bend at elbows and do tri-dip over head with ball. Straighten arms up over head as you return to standing position. 20x
- Alternating lunges with dumbbells (15lb). Do the lunge, return to standing position, then do bicep curl. 20x
- Squat to front-raise. Holding dumbbells (7.5lb), do a squat. While going down into squat, raise arms straight out in front of you. Lower arms as you stand up. 20x
REPEAT ALL
Then REPEAT ALL but do 12x instead of 20x for everything.
Wednesday, December 29, 2010
Race inventory for 2010
All in all, a very successful year. No injuries, only a little over-training (which passed quickly), and a heck of a good time! Now to prepare for 2011...yikes.
| Race | Time | When | Where |
|---|---|---|---|
| Rock and Roll San Antonio Half Marathon | 2:21:42 | Nov 14 | TX |
| Monumental Half Marathon | 2:20:25 | Nov 6 | Indianapolis |
| Kansas City Half Marathon | 2:20:25 | Oct 16 | MO |
| Eagle Creek Trail Half Marathon | 2:58:39 | Oct 3 | Indianapolis |
| Powerman Sprint Duathlon (5k run, 20k bike, 5k run) | 1:57:00 | Oct 2 | Muncie IN |
| Crossroads of America (10 miles) | 1:45:56 | Sep 26 | Indianapolis |
| TNT Revenge Trail Run (5k) | 34:02 | Sep 21 | Indianapolis |
| US Air Force Half Marathon | 2:17:27 | Sep 18 | Wright-Patterson AFB, Dayton OH |
| Austin Triathlon (1.5k swim, 40k bike, 10k run) | 3:33:10 | Sep 6 | TX |
| Special Olympics Runway Run (7.27k) | 45:51 | Aug 28 | Indianapolis |
| TNT Revenge Trail Run (5k) | 33:01 | Aug 24 | Indianapolis |
| Amazing Adventure Sprint (6.5 miles) | ~3 hours | Aug 22 | Indianapolis |
| Town Trek (~6 miles) | ~3 hours | Aug 21 | Indianapolis |
| Eagle Creek Sprint Tri (500yd swim, 10 mile bike, 3 mile run) | 1:28:56 | Aug 21 | Indianapolis |
| Muncie Multisport Triathlon (1.5k swim, 40k bike, 10k run) | 3:32:23 | Aug 14 | IN |
| Steelhead 70.3 Triathlon (1.2 mile swim, 56 mile bike, 13.1 mile run) | 7:14:36 | Jul 31 | St. Joseph MI |
| Amazing Adventure Sprint | ~3.5 hours | July 18 | Carmel IN |
| Eagle Creek Sprint Tri (500yd swim, 10 mile bike, 3 mile run) | 1:28:57 | Jul 17 | Indianapolis |
| Freedom 5000 (5k) | ~48 min | Jul 4 | Austin TX |
| Mudathlon (~4 miles) | 1:13:52 | Jun 26 | Indianapolis |
| Warrior Dash Mud Run (~3 miles) | 48:15 | Jun 20 | Joliet IL |
| Eagle Creek Sprint Tri (500yd swim, 10 mile bike, 3 mile run) | 1:30:44 | Jun 19 | Indianapolis |
| Hawthorne Half Day Relay (40.3 miles) | 11:38 | Jun 12 | Terre Haute IN |
| Outrun the Sun (10k) | 52:27 | Jun 5 | Lawrence IN |
| Terre Haute Tri (800m swim, 40K bike, 8K run) | 2:43:05 | May 22 | IN |
| 500 Festival Mini Marathon | 2:13:42 | May 8 | Indianapolis |
| Lonestar 70.3 Triathlon (1.2 mile swim, 56 mile bike, 13.1 mile run) | 7:20:22 | Apr 25 | Galveston TX |
| Sam Costa Half Marathon | 2:22:03 | Mar 27 | Carmel IN |
| Bop to the Top Stair Climb, Triple Step (36 floors, 3X) | 28:34 | Jan 23 | Indianapolis |
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