IM Boulder - Training!

While I signed up for IM Boulder in August of last year (crazy?!), I only now feel that I am 'officially' training for that particular race.  I've only just realized the blessing of St. George 70.3.  While it wasn't my "A" race, it did keep me more or less on top of my training and I've found that I need some sort of mid-way goal, or I have this year, at least.  Last year, I think that I wrapped my mind around IM Coeur d'Alene and made that THE goal, but this year, there is so much going on with me life-wise that an intermediate or mid-way goal really helped.  Otherwise, the 'base training' probably wouldn't have ever happened!

However, base training has officially ended and I'm now building - and I miss the base training!  I know that I shouldn't compare myself to other people, and I try not to, but I'm really "comfortable" at around 10-12 hours of training a week.  Once I start to train over 12 hours, I really do feel it.  Also, my recovery from St. George didn't even last a full week!  I was back to a long tempo run and then a long brick (4 hour ride, 80 minute run) a week after the race.  Last Sunday, I thought to myself - "You're not in Kansas anymore".  Okay, it's lame to quote the Wizard of Oz, but I was officially out of my comfort zone with that workout.  I really did try to have a positive attitude, but I started the running with heavy legs and I ended the run with heavy legs.  It was about 10x harder than the St. George run was!

This week, plenty of ups and downs and new challenges.  I felt equally blessed and cursed on Saturday to ride part of the Tour de California Stage 7 course - up GMR (Glendora Mountain Road) which I'd done twice before, but then, for the first time, I kept climbing up to Mt. Baldy Village. The Tour finished at the Mt. Baldy ski lifts, but it was the COLDEST RIDE EVER - so the two other ladies and I riding together made a group decision - to not climb the extra 1,000 feet to the ski lifts.  Even though we didn't make it to the ski lifts, it was a  fantastic ride up to Mt. Baldy Village, and it was amazing to see so many cyclists and fans of cycling in Southern CA.  If I had been better prepared (had more clothes) and had more time, I definitely would have stuck around to see the pros go through, but it was a great ride no matter what.

 This is before we started climbing - and it looks like I have something weird growing out of my helmet, but not so!

Finally, on Sunday, I had my first double-run day EVER.  I actually thought that it was a mistake on my schedule until I read the information about said run.  Nope, not a mistake.  Honestly, the afternoon run felt better than the first run of the day, so I decided that double run days might be okay.  However, this is all new territory for me, which maybe is the point?  Yes, I managed an IM distance race last year and loved the experience, but now that I know that I can do the distance, pushing a bit more and going a bit harder is the challenge.

And, if that's not enough, taking in sights like these should be both the means and the end:

Huge shout out to CalTri and Harrison Shao for the Epic Ride on Saturday!

Fast times in the Southland

I kind of love it when a trip that you loosely "planned" months ago sneaks up on you and suddenly you're off!  We (or maybe I) had planned a trip to the Carlsbad/Encinitas area back in October, but after the initial planning, which consisted of registering for a half-marathon and reserving a hotel room, I sort of forgot to think about the details of the trip.  But Saturday morning rolled around and we managed to pack up our bags and the dogs, head out the door and direct ourselves south!

The original purpose of the trip was, for me, to chase a PR at the Carlsbad Half-Marathon, about which I'd heard great things.  The idea of a half-marathon PR became a distant memory once I started to run using heart rate and rarely saw anything below a 10:-- mile, so I readjusted my expectations and decided that it would just be a fun way to spend the weekend.  It also turned out that my parents had made separate plans that included a trip to Southern CA this past weekend, so our plans morphed again to include time with them.   At any rate, my half-marathon hopes/goals quickly diminished as the "main event" of the weekend, which took the pressure off me on Saturday.  While I still hoped to run a solid race that would be a good training run, I did not expect a particularly speedy-for-me 13.1 miles on Sunday.  I did meet up with my triathlon coach on Saturday afternoon - which was a really nice bonus for the weekend - and she urged me to really *race* on Sunday and instructed me to start and stick with the 1:45 pace group.  Considering that my recent race pace intervals (during slow runs) felt impossible to hold on to for more than the interval, I seriously questioned this plan.

By Sunday morning, my expectations had probably sunk even lower - I don't know when I've ever slept so poorly the night before a race.  Maybe I really was nervous?!  Fortunately, the half-marathon start was at the luxurious time of 7:45, so I tried to catch a few more zzzz's.  Michael dropped me off somewhat close to the race expo around 7:15 which gave me time to get to the start, do my business (you know...), warm up, and then line up in my corral.  I have to admit that I am a huge fan of waved/corralled starts, but even with the different waves, there were tons of people to weave around and through during that first mile.  I can't say where my thoughts were during the first few miles - I think that I kept checking in with my pace and with how I felt.  The 1:45 pace group was within sight but going faster than a 1:45 pace, according to the Garmin and also according to the time elapsed.  So, I hung back at what felt like a comfortable but still fast pace, enjoying the course, especially around mile 3 or so, when we hit the coast which was just beautiful!  I also saw my coach around mile 5 and she yelled at me to catch up to the 1:45 pace group - I thought to myself "As if!".  And then, just after the course turn-around, I saw my parents, Michael and our dogs for a quick shout out and wave.  At that point, I was pushing up to the 1:45 group which I finally caught, stayed with for a while, and then I decided that I needed to move on. The second half of the course was a negative split, and it felt hard but comfortable until around mile 10 at which point I tried to push even harder.  While I still enjoyed the run and the pace felt doable, it no longer felt comfortable!  During the second half of the race, I couldn't believe that I would finish up with a nice PR, as long as I didn't bonk.  By the time, I got to the last half mile, I still couldn't quite get over my time but kept pushing, and even passed a few more people at the end, which made me very happy!  

I ended the race with a very surprising 9 minute PR!  I use that adjective because speed work has not been a major part of my training, as I said earlier, and if it hadn't been for my coach instructing me to start with the pace group, I would have held back, no doubt.  I guess she knows what she is talking about!  Also, this race did live up to its reputation of being a really great experience - it was very well organized, the course was nice and varied with plenty of rolling hills but nothing crazy, fantastic crowd support, great fluid and nutrition and plenty of portopotties scattered through the course (which was nice because I did have to make a pit stop and it was a quick in-and-out b/c there were no lines).  Needless to say, I am a fan of this race!  I'm not sure how the marathon would be - maybe too much out and back, but the half felt just right.  

After my race, we were able to get down to other, more serious business - eating, drinking and watching football!  My parents were catching an afternoon flight, so the first item up was for me to clean up, and then we headed to Union Tap House in Encinitas.  That was a lucky choice for brunch - they served really good food and excellent bloody marys!  After that, Michael and I hunted down a bar, and again we felt that we lucked out with the Encinitas Ale House where we scored good seats at the bar.  I tried to switch between water and small beer tasters to stay somewhat hydrated while we watched the game.  To make a good day even better, the Broncos beat New England and are headed to the Super Bowl!  While I was still riding high from my PR, someone else was over the moon for the rest of the day!

Finally we peeled ourselves off the barstools and headed out to enjoy the late afternoon.  We don't often to get to that area of Southern CA, usually staying along the LA/Orange County coast or going north, but this trip made me love the Encinitas area.  There is a hippie feel to it, and it also seemed that 'normal' people lived and worked there.  I realize that I have the outsider/visitor's perspective, so who knows what it is REALLY like.  One thing that you can't argue with - the long beaches that just stretch on and on.  We took a great beach walk with our dogs both yesterday and today, and I felt that I could have stayed there forever, watching the waves and the surfers.

The perfect day cannot end without a great margarita, which we found at El Callejón in Encinitas.  We each had one and split another - they were excellent!   At that point, we were totally done for the day, but already plotting a return trip at some point soon!

(Sorry for the complete lack of photos - I know, I'm talking about how awesome it was but showing you nothing!)

Identity shift - Good-bye Peter Pan!

It's funny - I hit the big four-zero last year, and while I wasn't psyched about the number, it didn't bother me too much nor did I feel that my life radically changed as I entered my forties.  In fact, nothing seemed different except that I moved up an age group, which I viewed as a favorable change, (not that I'm winning any races, by the way).

The past month has presented me with more potential and definite changes than I've had in years, all brought on by buying a house.  I knew that making the house decision would be a huge step for us, but  I had not fully wrapped my head around all of the implications.  Often, when I've made major life changes in the past, I went forward with the change, knowing that there was an exit plan, that I could go back - to where, I'm not sure, but a sense that I was not fully committed to the change.  There are, obviously, a few exceptions to this.  When I was 28 and, after spending 6 fairly miserable years in Philly, I moved to Seattle without a job, without connections and without much of a plan, I knew that it was a jumping off point, one of those "never-look-back" moments (yes, I'm being dramatic), but I needed an 'exit-less' plan so that I could move forward.  The other major change was getting married - but that was a lot more fun and exciting, fortunately, and has remained so.

But most of the other changes have taken the form of moving and also jobs - either changing schools or taking on a new position at the same school (that is the recent paradigm, at least).  These changes have a less permanent feel, which I definitely prefer.  I think about just being in the LA area - I moved here almost 9 years ago with the idea that I would have my southern CA experience before moving on - maybe to the Bay Area, maybe back to Seattle?  I wasn't sure about that next step, but I did know that I would not stay in LA for more than 2-4 years.  Well, those years stretched out, and now I've lived in this area for more years as an adult than any other place that I used to call home.

After living in the Silverlake neighborhood for our first few years here and getting a taste of the urban experience, we've enjoyed an easy situation recently - living close to the school where I work, not worrying about much and not, perhaps, taking much responsibility for too much either.  The decision to  buy a house was somewhat prompted by financial reasons, but the idea of moving from the bubble in which we live appealed to both of us. Now that the bubble has burst, as we plan to leave this easy, convenient lifestyle, I've felt excited but slightly overwhelmed.  We got the keys to the house last week, and just within the past 10 days, home ownership has been an education.  How much does a fridge cost?!  A paint job?  What ELSE do we have to do to do the house - if not this year, the next?  And then the next?

In addition to the sense of responsibility, I think the idea that there is no easy exit has freaked me out just a bit too.  When we adopted Gus and Milo, our dogs, we recognized that the option to just pick up and move somewhere else had closed.  Not that we couldn't do it, but it would be more challenging because we had to consider our pups.  Now, not only do we have to consider the dogs, but we'll have a house to sell.  It does seem that life has become more complicated and I feel that it is heavier, in a way.  There is some added gravitas to our life, in one way or another.

As a friend said when I told her that we bought a house "Congratulations!  You've become an adult!". She didn't mean it as an insult nor did I take it as such.  But the Peter Pan days for us are definitely over.  I suppose that's the identity shift to which I refer in the title.  Not that I'm trying to be a 20 or 30-something cool cat, but embracing the changes that come with the house has challenged me and the image that I've had of my life - our life.  Colorado or the Bay Are was always a decision away, if we wanted to make that move, and now it isn't that easy.

Michael has reminded me - the day that we got the keys and I thought to myself "Oh shit! What the hell have we done!" - that we can always sell.  This isn't a no-exit change, but it IS a change.  Especially now that I see a summer painting project in my future.

Oh, Peter Pan, where are you now?

The bazillion things that I'd rather do than go to a music festival

In some circles of Southern Ca, people identify the month of April with a little 3-syllable word that rhymes with nothing that I can think of: Coachella (when pronouncing, drop the a, and don't think of the double l as a Spanish -ll-; this, by the way, is one of the reasons that I have issues with pronunciation here in Southern CA - some names and words show off their Spanish origin and others are Native American).  So, anyway, Co-che-la!

Before moving to this area, I had no idea that this sex, drug, music, coolness fest in the desert existed. But, from March until the end of April or so, it's one of those buzz words that permeates the Los Angeles 'cultural' scene so I am now all too familiar with the word and the concepts that swirl around the event, despite my complete first-hand ignorance of the festival.  The familiarity that I have unwillingly developed is mainly thanks to local radio stations that plug the groups playing and, unfortunately, due to the fact that there is a mass exodus of my students whose parents call them in "sick", "family visit", "college visit" while I know full-well that they are soaking in the Coachella coolness (and doing who knows whatever else).

While there are some groups that would totally interest me, the idea of a weekend in the desert with thousands of other people holds zero appeal.  So, I'll sacrifice my hipster-ness and embrace the fact that I have LONG since crossed the I'm-too-old-to-go-to-a-music-festival threshold.  Don't get me wrong, if someone gave me free tickets, an awesome place to stay, and assurance that I wouldn't have to deal with any of the crowds, then sure I'd go see the Black Keyes or the Shins or Snoop Dog or Feed Me (yeah, the last one - maybe a DJ?).  Since that is not happening, there is no way that I'm going with a dozen of my closest friends who then invite a dozen of their closest friends.  Then we all stay in a small condo and spend the entire weekend drinking, smoking, hanging out, not showering, and generally being cool.

Sounds awesome, I know!
While I'm not about to list a bazillion things, I will say that I am so happy that I'm able to spend my "Coachella" weekends in other ways.  For instance:
- Eating good Mexican food (last weekend AND tonight) and not scrounging around for food
- Catching up with old friends (and remembering what we all discussed)
- Sweating for a few hours in the am on the bicycle rather than sweating while being packed in a space with a bunch of people
- Sleeping in a comfortable bed and not on the floor
- Sharing a room only with a significant other and two dogs (so, not listening to anyone else snore, except for Gus)
- Not having to decide what my 'wardrobe' will be as I deal with extreme weather (crazy freak winter storm last weekend and heat this weekend; okay, last weekend, I had my own wardrobe crisis for the duathlon, but we worked it out)
- Unwinding from the week with post-run basil gimlet, an easy dinner and a somewhat disappointing movie ("The Descendants" which reminded me a bit of a Lifetime movie; definitely NOT reminiscent of the dark bite of "Election" or "Sideways")
- Afternoon naps in the comfort of my own home because of a long bike ride, not because I'm actually passed out.
- Going to sleep by 9:00 pm or earlier and waking up refreshed!

Obviously I am old, but there are some really wonderful aspects to the "I'm too old to be cool anymore" philosophy, and one is that I don't have to go music festivals anymore.  Not that I was ever an avid music-fest attendee, but I do remember being an anxious 20-something and feeling that I *should* enjoy these sorts of activities, goddamnit!  There are plenty of other activities in which I no longer have to participate or fein interest, now that I'm past any possible age of coolness, but the musical festival might be at the top of the list!

The irony of all of this is that in exactly two weeks I will be heading to Wildflower which is, in a sense, a bit of a crazy festival that mixes music with extreme athleticism (for some people).  Yes, it is the "Woodstock of triathlons".  I will, however, unleash my inner 60-year-old who is not a hippie, enjoying dinner out in Paso Robles on Saturday night, as I go to bed early, sleep in a somewhat comfortable motel bed, and then, if all goes as planned, do this swim, bike, run thing on Sunday.

Definitely more fun than Coachella.

The duathlon that actually was

So, no "Did I or didn't I" suspense here.  I finished the Camp Pendleton Devil Dog Duathlon this morning AND exceeded my expectations!  So far, it's my favorite race this year.  Okay, it is my only race so far, but despite the threatening rain and all the badasses with crazy gear that intimidate me and my own major doubts, I couldn't have been happier with the morning and the entire experience.

What a contrast to yesterday afternoon, around 1:30 pm when it was thundering and lightening, atypical natural phenomenas that almost never happen in Southern CA.  I definitely took that for an inauspicious sign.  The afternoon did not necessarily improve - we left at 3:05 on the nose, headed east, in the rain, and hit major Friday-afternoon traffic.  I think that we crawled along for the first 45 minutes, averaging around 5 miles an hour in some stretches.  Finally, the traffic opened up and we could zoom a bit more, which was great because we had dinner plans AND had to stop to buy new running shoes at REI for someone who had forgotten his (cough, cough, not I!).  Fortunately we made it down south and were not late meeting up with friends for a great dinner in Dana Point.  They had major news - Pregnant!  With twins!  Needless to say, we had a lot of catching up to do in a short 2-hour time period.

I went to sleep still worried about the weather.  The forecast indicated showers until 9:00 am, which, I decided, would be doable.  After all, I had feared torrential rains, so light showers were definitely preferable to that.  We officially hit the road to Camp Pendleton around 6:30, right after a breakfast and coffee stop that we ate and drank on the drive.  The morning was beautiful - a dramatic mix of clouds and sunshine - and we enjoyed a short but beautiful drive south, often catching glimpses of the Pacific Ocean just to our right.  For the first time all week, I began to feel somewhat optimistic about the event.  Wow, optimism?!  What a concept!  We turned into Camp Pendleton, showing off our race packets and getting the go-ahead to drive onto the base which, I think is privileged to some very nice land - lots of rolling hills and access to the ocean.

We arrived with plenty of time to spare, which gave me the chance to rack my bike, use the bathroom twice, drink plenty of water, decide what to wear (that one was complicated - leg warmers for the run or not? long sleeve shirt or not? full gloves or those that are cut off), and set up my stuff in the transition area.  Then, we waited in the car until it was closer to the start time, so we ran to the start line and put on our race faces.  No photos, but you'll have to trust me.  It seemed like a good idea at that point to think about my race strategy.  I had not articulated it to anyone, but before this past week, I secretly hoped to finish in 2:00 hours, give or take a minute or two.  I knew that the run would be stronger for me than the bike, but I hoped to bike the 18.6 miles in around an hour.  However, I had no idea how I would feel transitioning from run to bike.  So, at 8:29 am, I figured that I would just do my best and see what that meant for me.

The first run was not super fast or slow - it took us about 10 seconds to actually cross the start line, and Michael and I ran somewhat together for the first quarter or half mile.  Then, he encouraged me to go on, so I did!  Not that I sped up too much, but I kept a nice pace.  The 5k was an easy out-and-back course that offered a few nice mud puddles because of the rain.  When I ran into the transition area, my watch read 26-something which was more or less what I hoped.  The transition was probably my fastest by far (that's not saying much), and would have been faster except that I decided to take off my leg warmers for the bike portion and I had to fish my energy stuff out of the vest that I opted not to wear for the ride.  Then, I ran my bike to the mount area and hopped on it!  Okay, more like I tried to climb onto it somewhat gracefully.  It probably took me another 60 seconds to clip in.  I'm so smooth on the bike.

The bike leg actually felt really good which was all that I wanted.  I enjoyed just being able to RIDE and not worry so much about traffic and cars and everything that I have to consider when I'm normally in the saddle.  I also hoped to pass a few people, and I did, even people who had fancier bikes and clipless pedals (usually I'm ONLY passing people with the non-clipless pedals because I'm so slow). While plenty of speedsters zoomed past me, I felt good about my pace and reached the turn around at 59 minutes or so - which put me just under 30 minutes for 9 point whatever miles.  Excellent!  My confidence that I would finish in an hour was bolstered, until the headwind hit me as I headed north.  Holy crap!  The first few miles of the return trip were brutal.  Finally, we turned back east and the wind ended up behind us which was great for the final miles of the bike ride.  Except for the wind, the ride was great - nice easy hills and curves to enjoy and a pretty good road for most of the ride.  No complaints.

So, I ran my bike into transition and, for me, quickly prepped for the second run leg.  The one major fail on the bike was to eat anything, so I grabbed my energy food-things to eat on the run leg.  I also took in plenty of water on the run course.  Once I left the transition, I looked at my watch and saw that it read something like 1:35.  So, a sub-2 hour race was less than likely, but I would be under 2:05 which suited me just fine.  I also saw Michael as I headed out of the run gate, and I waved and he cheered.  Yay!  Starting the run, my legs felt really good.  I was worried that dealing with wind would have trashed my legs, but that didn't seem to be the case.  At this point in the race (yes, it really did seem to be a race for me), I just wanted to have a solid, final 5K and to leave enough 'in the tank' for a strong run to the finish line.  I hit the turn-around and then enjoyed the nice downhill run to the 2 mile marker.  There, my watch clocked 1:52:30.  Hmmm, a 7:30 final mile?  Possible but not necessarily probable.  I normally hate being a 'clock watcher', but I figured "what the hell" - if I wanted to hit that sweet spot, then I'd need to run smart.  So, I pushed myself but did not go all out until 1:58, when someone said "You're almost at the finish line" and then it was a full-on GO GO GO!  And I snuck in at an official time of 1:59:48.  My unofficial time was probably about 10 seconds faster, but I can't say that I really care because the official time brought a huge smile to my face as ran across the finish line.

So, all of those doubts about everything - well, it's not bad to have them, but it is definitely more enjoyable to come out on top!  I was so worried that my lack of racing for several months would have a negative impact, but I do think that it's been good for me to really focus on Wildflower and to not throw in a bunch of 10Ks just to do them.  Not that this race serves as an indicator of my performance, but it did boost my confidence, especially on the bike which is my major weakness.  This morning, my legs felt strong, and I am more than happy with Sunshine!  While the course was easier than what I'll find at Wildflower, the wind presented a good challenge that I managed to meet successfully.  Finally, that final run felt amazing, and I think that I'm in pretty good shape for May 6!

Final thoughts on the Devil Dog Duathlon:
- I would absolutely participate in this event again.  It was fairly small but well-organized, and while there were plenty of badasses out there with crazy gear, I loved that there were plenty of people with mountain bikes on the course, just doing their own thing.
- Being at/on Camp Pendleton was pretty cool, and the volunteers (many of whom were obviously active military) were awesome.
- I hope to never again see a guy's butt crack because there is some see-through material on his bike shorts.  Unfortunately, this was one of those situations where I passed him, then he passed me, then I passed him, then he passed me...  So, I had to see it several times, and it was like an accident on the freeway - you can't help but look.
- One of these days, I'm going to stay around for an awards ceremony to see if I do well enough in my age group.  I figured that I was in the bottom half of my age group, but as it turned out, I was in a pretty slow group and ended up doing fairly well (out of 13 people - ha!).

Once I finished, we were both ready to head home, but we did take a nice detour through San Clemente, one of the many surfing capitols of California.  It was almost noon, and my stomach had made itself known!  So, we found a great little Mexican spot, La Cocina de Ricardo (Ricardo's Kitchen, in case you cared).  I had my doubts when we pulled into the parking lot, but then we walked in and there was a customer speaking to the cashier en español - always a good sign.  And the food?  It rocked!  I had a burrito with chile colorado served "mojado" (wet - with sauce on top), and Michael had fried tacos.  I was skeptical when the cashier recommended them, but they were fantastic.

So, well-nourished and tired, we returned home.  It was gorgeous day to be on the road - clear skies and snow covered peaks.  A pretty amazing Saturday in Southern California!

(If you make it this far, good for you! That was a lengthy spiel.)

Unprepared, at best, but here goes!

I actually looked for another word on an on-line thesaurus, but things like "unrefined, unrehearsed, off the cuff, dashed off, extemporaneous" just did not seem able to replace how I am feeling about a little 20k trail run that I am undertaking tomorrow.  It is not 'unplanned' because I signed up for the Lasse Viren run four to six weeks ago.  At the time, it seemed like a good idea - and it wasn't even an impromptu, drunken decision!  I signed up when I was totally sober, maybe even on a school/work day!
But, here I am, the race is now tomorrow, and I definitely feel unprepared to run 12.4 miles of trail.
At the same time, I'm also pretty excited about the race.  It is a GORGEOUS weekend here in Southern CA, I've been slightly inspired by watching students haul butt at their cross country meet, and I know that I'll have some great views during the "race" tomorrow.  I'm hoping to get something like this:

Source

Add to that, it will be something of a social experience since I know several people going/participating, so I can give myself points this weekend for being an extrovert! An all-around win-win situation.
Leading up to this week, I've felt a bit nervous about my knee which has a history and can be kind of tricky.  I scheduled an appointment with the knee doctor for Tuesday, hoping for the best but not totally confident that he would say, "Yes, you should keep running!".  Well, that was more or less what he said - he wants me to continue to be active (I don't know if that is so that I will continue to return to see him or if it is for my mental/physical health, but I'm not sure that it matters...).  So, based on that recent assessment, I have far more confidence in my knee, and I went out and enjoyed an short but awesome last night, a good way to top off a crazy-busy week.
So, despite my reservations about lack of training this fall, I am pretty psyched about the run tomorrow.  I have no aspirations to run fast, but I plan on enjoying it.  Hell yeah!