A Good Idea?

Tomorrow I embark on my first mountain bike race- a duathlon in Hot Springs Arkansas.

I am not sure what to say for myself. I went to the race course today (where they are hosting a 6 hour mtn bike race), and I was more intimidated than I ever was for the Ironman. I was surrounded by racers in cycling team kits with some pros mingled in between. I kept looking for beginners, but I didn't see any. I looked and felt like a dweeb as I walked up in my too big for me, heavy, platform pedals, no shocks borrowed bike. For once, I was glad I did not have my Los Locos team kit on, because I surely would have embarrassed my fellow teammates.

Surely the big dogs are just doing the Saturday mountain bike race and leaving the duathlon for beginners like me, right? Of course not. I didn't meet a single beginner signed up for the duathlon. Just some pros and local standouts.

But before all of that- let me just say, my intentions were good. I have always wanted to a mountain bike race. I borrowed a bike from a teammate Daniel in the fall with the intentions of learning to ride it post surgery. It took a couple of months before my knee was strong enough to try the off-road cycling. I was not good at it and went down a lot, but it was nice to try something new and be away from cars. I didn't have many opportunities to ride the mtn bike since I can't ride after work. Many of my available weekends were rained out- which left me exactly 3 mountain bike rides....EVER.

I was completely okay with this. I was fine coming to this race as a very inexperienced beginner. I understood I may even be the last place finisher, but that was okay. I know I don't have the skills or strength to race a mountain bike yet. (shoot, I am not sure I can actually do the run part of the duathlon yet!). However, I was completely unprepared to be the only beginner on a course that is way beyond my very limited abilities. Yep- this is not Shelby Farms (and Shelby Farms is hard for me). When you see "lower mountain trail" on the map, that means there is an upper mountain trail too. It means there is a mountain!

I set off today to preview some of the course...not sure if I will ever do that again. I am not sure if it was the multiple creek crossings, multiple bridges, switchbacks up the mountain, loss of control down the mountain, rocky terrain, or length of time it actually took me to complete a portion of the course, but at some point I decided that I would be better served not attempting this race tomorrow. Many, many people at the end of their 6 hour race flew by me- some offering words of encouragement, and others telling me to "be safe" since my beginner status seemed to be glowing strong.

It took me some time, but I convinced myself to do the race tomorrow and try to complete the course. I have set a big challenge for myself (on accident) but I plan to see it through. Although I was slightly chastised from some friends for picking this race as my first, I remain hopeful that some other beginners will show up and keep me company.

So race plan as follows: run at a pace that motivates me to pick up the training at home and ride with enjoyment for the entirety of the ride. Let's hope for a good mountain bike experience tomorrow!

Check This Out

Today is the date that marks 6 years since my friend Chad passed away after battling Hodgkin's.  He was a life long friend- the kind you know in first grade back when you are a kid and have have a great sense of judging character.  Many of you know that I turn to him for strength during competition as he was a great athlete.  I think of him when I cross the finish line of many races and thank him for watching over me.  He is one of my guardian angels (along with Mac)- they protect me in my athletic endeavors.    

When Chad started to battle cancer, I ran my first marathon with Team in Training/Leukemia and Lymphoma Society in his honor.  It was a very special marathon for me- more special than any PR or numerical achievement.  Sorry for the tiny picture and the bad 8th grade hair- that is a picture of me and Chad (brown hair on left) from 8th grade graduation.  

So, I have a special place in my heart for athletes that choose to run for a cause.  Please check out the following blog below and show your support.  

Dreaming Over The Ocean is preparing to do a half-marathon in support of Team in Training.  She is currently training and fundraising to support the Leukemia and Lymphoma Society, and she needs your help.  Check out her blog and see if you can lend a hand...no amount is too small and every donation really helps out.  If you get a chance, stop by her site and lend a word of encouragement.      

Saturday Love

As in, I LOVE Saturdays.  I am actually feeling a little sad that it is Saturday night, meaning Sunday is right around the corner, followed by all work and no fun on Monday.  Pitiful, I know.  

Today I woke up with three doggies snuggled on me.  Each dog seems to have an assigned sleeping position, as they end up in the same place every time I let them sleep with me in the bed.  Rooney looked at me with his big brown eyes this morning and you could just see the happiness alive in him.  I thought to myself- this is heaven.  This is God's gift to me.  No alarm clock, no early morning swim, no putting on scrubs for work- just sleep and snuggles.  

Joy and I met later in the morning for a bike ride.  We also argued about body fat (mine in particular) and tried on my bridesmaid dress.  I am sad to say that it is finally sinking in that she is getting ready to move away.  Denial seems to suit me a little bit better at this point.  Dern if she is not the best training partner, fat-tester, phone chatter, loyal friend around these parts.  

Saturday has ended with some cleaning (mimimal), church, dinner with Bek and Jon, and more Olympics.  Cayenne has already claimed her spot in the bed.  I will have to order Rooney to get up there (as he wants to stay by the front door to guard) and pick up Shelby Angel to get her on the bed (poor chunk can't jump up there!).  Night night!

  

 

The Value of Team

A few friends have asked me over the years if they should join a triathlon team.  Memphis has several:  Los Locos, Memphis Thunder Racing, and Terrapin Racing.  Each team has a different vision and fits the needs of different types of triathletes.  

But triathlon is not a team sport.  I don't get to set my teammates up to score a goal, run back to cover for them, or talk with them at halftime on game strategy.  We don't win or lose together.  We don't rely on each other for a good performance.  And we are not responsible for bringing out the best in each other...or are we?

Yesterday, I had plans to do a training ride and then spend some time with my husband.  As usual, I have been over-committed, over-stressed, and really tired, so it was important to me to get stuff done and then spend some down time at home.  

And plans changed mid-morning.  My husband, sister, and co-workers have all decided that I have to get something done about my intense gray hair.  This intervention was scheduled last minute, and it fell right in the middle of my Saturday.  I was frustrated- and hair is never a priority to me.  I knew I had to keep the appointment or remain gray forever.  

3 hours later (I have a lot of gray) and the day was gone.  I had a little over an hour of sunlight to ride, but I had made plans to spend the afternoon with my husband.  I didn't know what to do, and riding in the cold afternoon was not appealing to me anymore.  I pulled into the parking lot and called Dave.  

Dave told me to go ride- that it was important for me to ride and we would go out later.  I thanked him and got out of the car.  It was cold, and I was unmotivated.  I got back in the car to drive home and started to pull out of the parking lot when....

I saw a Los Locos teammate in the distance- riding his bike.  If it had been any other cyclist, I would have kept driving.  But it was a teammate.  If my teammates are out training, I am out training.  I re-parked my care and got on my bike.  My teammate gave me the motivation I needed to train.  

Two miles into my ride, another Los Locos teammate passed me in his car and honked his horn while yelling "Hey Damie! :)"   More motivation.  

One mile later, I see another Los Locos teammate riding his bike on the other side of the road, and he yells for me to wait up.  It turned out to be Steve Franklin, and he joined me for the remainder of my ride.  We went to an area with some hills and tested out the knee.  I was slow, sucking wind, and dying.  Steve stayed with me the whole time, even though he was probably cursing silently because I was going to slow.  (I think he was at least impressed that I was willing to put a helmet on my head directly after paying to have my "hair did". )

Triathlon is not a team sport.  No one can  help me on the race course- cover for me, double down, create space, force a turnover, give me a chance to breath, or save me from a mistake.  But, there is value in being on the team- and it comes in the form of support and motivation when you need that extra push to stay the course.  Teammates are friends and mentors that help you get out of the car when you are turning around to go home, convince you to ride an extra lap of hills, and help you train harder/smarter/better.  Thank you to my 3 x teammates yesterday who directly and indirectly helped me to get  back on my bike.  

I don't really have anything to post- except to state the obvious, but I figure an obvious post is better than neglecting the blog entirely.

I swear I can hear you yawning.  (Who dat?)  Kuddos for Laura for watching the game with us.  I did not really invite too many people to the Superbowl "party".  I knew it would be a little stressful and not really a party at all until there was a Saints win.  I am so excited Dave and I had a chance to go see a game in the Superdome this year, and I have no doubt we will be season ticket holders when we move back to New Orleans.  

The next day, I knew hell had frozen over when I walked out and saw unexpected snow on the ground, and remember the Saints had won the Superbowl.  Pictured above is Cayenne, our unofficial Who Dat contest winner, enjoying the morning in the snow.  And yes, they all got a piece of turkey bacon- the contest was a little rigged with the boa.  

And I came home today to two new Splish grab bag suits.  Dawn must intuitively know when someone likes animals...

I was fortunate enough to get a chance to swim with Nancy, Laura, and Joy on Tuesday- something I rarely get to do these days.  It takes us about 2 hours to do an 1:15 workout- simply because we won't stop talking.  The water was warm, yet somehow I kept shivering between sets because we talked too much.  And why do any of this if it is not for friends?  I think that often about this sport-friends are a huge motivator for me.  I really need it to warm up around here so we can get some good talking time in on the bike.  

1st Annual Who Dat Costume Competition

Today we hosted the first annual Who Dat Costume Competition.  Please cast your vote for the cutest dog, and the winner will receive an extra piece of turkey bacon.  

Contestant #1:  Shelby Angel as a "Who Dat"

"I believe that Who Dat belongs to the people of New Orleans, not the NFL.  Who Dat, Who Dat, Who Dat Say They Gonna Beat Them Saints?"

Contestant #2:  Cayenne as a "Saintsation"

"Let's cheer our team on to a Superbowl win!  Stand up and get CRUNK!!!!"

Contestant #3:  Rooney as "Drew Brees"

"Our city, our team.  FINISH STRONG!"

Running Continued

I am living in a constant state of DOMS from excessive lunges, squats, burpees, and jumping in strength class.  However, if constant muscle soreness is any indication of improvement in my present physical condition, I can only believe that in 6 more weeks I will have become a stronger athlete.  Until then, I will have to hold back my lame excuses at swim practice and look alive and happy while my sinking butt is getting handed to me.  

I have made it to 4 miles running- and I am killing it with a 10:35 pace.  Yep, like a big bonk at mile 22 of a marathon, except I am not bonking.  The success, though, is not about pace or distance- it is the fact that I can run 4 miles now and not absolutely dread it.  On Thursday of this week, I forced myself outside in the cold, dark, rainy night for a run.  I told myself I would love it like I used to and to heck with everything else.

Why is this significant?  Training log 2009- running:

March 15- Injury

Remainder of March- 0 miles

April- 6 miles...for the WHOLE month.  

May- progress, I ran a total of 4 miles one week, 5.5 miles one week, and 6 miles one week.  

you get the picture.  The rest of the summer looked basically the same.  A 2-miler here, a 1-miler there, until I just stopped trying.  

Last time I attempted 4 miles?  July 8.  Training log reads:

Run:  4 miserable, painful miles.  

So, when I finally realized that it had been almost 8 months since I had run 4 miles, I perked up.  My training log this time did not have the words "painful or miserable" in it.  Progress!

I am really trying to block out that voice that says "you used to run at such and such pace.  how will you ever get back to such and such time in a race?"  Blah blah blah.  That negative voice can be so overwhelming!  

The negativity just makes the task at hand seem even harder, and the solution is relatively simple.  With time and hard work, I will reach my goals.  Thursday was one of the first days I felt decently successful at just getting out there and running without dreading the slow pace or the overwhelming feeling that comes along with the task at hand.  I was just running, and that was good.  I didn't have to stop every half mile to stretch.  I wasn't paranoid with every little twinge.  I didn't walk home crying.  

This weekend I plan to run a little bit on the trails and solve all of my problems- as I tend to do on a good run.  I will solve yours too, probably.  For some reason I seem to forget the answers, though as soon as I stop running.  Maybe that is why we are compelled to run more..and more...and more....

To hopefully be continued....