Tri-ing for Children's--7/25/10

A sprint tri is usually over and done in less than two hours. The elites, first-timers, recreational athletes, age-groupers, and anywhere in between race together in sprints.

Not so for an olympic. It's twice as long. Only serious trained triathletes do these. It's what they do at the Olympics, for pete's sake!

(Or so I kept telling myself the times I honestly thought I was going to finish dead last.)

My plan was to tool along at a pace that wouldn't hurt myself and finish the race eventually. My lobster and the girls' grandma were on hand, swingset in sight, to entertain themselves--I could take as long as I needed. And I did.

The two-loop swim was the largest question mark. Though I'm a solid swimmer, I'd been in a pool only once since High Cliff, and this swim was nearly a mile. By the end of Loop One, I was by myself. No one in sight. Did everyone leave this solid swimmer in the dust? I know I've lost fitness but really? What the?

The two-loop bike had much-appreciated rolling hills and I kept a moderate pace. When I turned right to start the second loop....crickets. Alone. No one in sight. This was the first time I really wondered. "Am I last?!" I shouted to the volunteer at the corner. He assured me I was not but what did he know? Halfway through that second loop I glanced back to see another cyclist about 100 yards back. No consolation--she was probably a faster runner.

Remember, you're just doing this to finish. It's okay if you're slow.

The (again with the loops) two-loop run afforded an interesting opportunity to view exactly how many (if any) people were behind me as I closed in on halfway through the second loop. There was a handful--spread out, lumbering along like me, may or may not be in my age group. As I approached the finish I could hear the race director on the mike, no longer announcing the names of finishers but announcing the names of the winners for the awards ceremony. The transition area was being torn down, most of the bikes had already been removed. I finished with little fanfare, grabbed a water, and went to find my four biggest fans.

They had to wait a long long time, but they stuck with me.

High Cliff triathlon--6/19/10

With no authority whatsoever, I've assigned labels to my activity levels:

"Training"--I have a specific race for which I am motivated to perform well. I most likely follow a plan that dictates my workouts. My exercise regimen covers 5-6 days a week of solid, purpose-driven workouts. I see improvement in my speed and endurance.

"Working Out"--I exercise 3-4 times a week. I break a sweat from time to time. I maintain my current fitness level.

"Random Bits of Movement"--Once or twice a week I find a window of opportunity to get out and move and I take it. I am slower than before but there's not much I can do about it at this point.

Approaching this race I hadn't had a training week in over four months, and the Random Bits outnumbered the Workout weeks by far. But it was important to me not to DNS (Do Not Start) this race. Most DNS's are due to injury or illness, but a few people get the bug to do a tri and sign up for one, but race day comes and they don't feel ready or haven't trained enough and they DNS. I've had a lot of life changes these four months, but I wasn't ready to become the person who signs up for races and then doesn't at least make a fool of myself on that course by attempting it.


The swim was shallow and choppy--most of it could be waded. I hadn't donned a swimsuit since September so this leg became how most people view it--the part I just needed to "get through".


The bike begins with a steep lumber up the side of a massive hill (or "cliff", hence the name of the race). I knew it was coming from my study of the race map the night before, but that doesn't mean I was ready. Thank goodness for low standards.

T2 flying dismount--perfect! It all came back, like (no longer) riding a bicycle.

Now the run...and mymap didn't say the first mile went up the same cliff as before. Blast. I resorted to walking portions of the hill, something I'd never done in a sprint before. It was worth it. It made the rest of the very scenic trail run slightly more enjoyable and the final downhill even sweeter. I charged to the finish line, pleased to be upright. The triathlete of 2009 would have been disappointed in the final time, but in 2010 all that matters is no DNS.

Madison Half Marathon--5/30/10

It was February and I was deep in off-season base training. I had my whole race season mapped out with a half-marathon in May to kick it off, four or five triathlons (mostly sprints, one olympic), and maybe another half or full marathon in the fall. I had my standard goals to push me:

-20 MPH average in a race (on the bike, of course. Only cheetahs run that fast.)

-Nail that pesky mount (see Bigfoot for what not to do.)

-9 minute run miles

-Assess potential for Ironman Madison in 2011

Then one night my lobster and I got the phone call we'd been waiting for, and three hours later we're raising two tiny girls, 17 months old and 8 days old.

I didn't get to my 4-mile run that night.

I didn't work out for over two weeks since that night, thus beginning the life changes--a new job for my lobster, a new house, a new minivan, and a new tri bike. (I felt I deserved the bike for being an instant mom instead of the goal-seeking triathlete I was before. I then stored the (unridden) bike in our apartment shower stall for the first month after I bought it. No time to ride. See "instant mom".)

Somewhere along the way I said goodbye to my old goals. I didn't have the time or fitness to achieve them anymore. I've now put new goals in their place:

-Get out of the house and do a run, a bike or a swim once in a while so I don't get fat

-Be a person who can roll out of bed and do a triathlon without much training

-Share with the girls the exhilerating atmosphere of a race day morning

-Role model an active lifestyle in hopes of motivating the same in my young 'uns

Despite cutting my workout regimen by 90% or so, I showed up to the first race on the schedule, the Madison Half Marathon.
I told my fan club not to expect much, and Lobster just asked that I not injure myself attempting to finish this thing. It's not easy to set aside speed for a finish. I was never that fast to begin with, but as I plodded along for mile after mile, I hadn't realized how slow I'd gotten. Nevertheless, I finished. And for the time being, that will have to be good enough.

P.S. I'd be more than happy to post pictures of my cute kids instead of my rode-hard mug, but alas...foster care rules prevent it. Soon, I hope.