It's Not You, It's Me . . .

As I wrote in my last post, I am not doing any more triathlons this summer and am taking a break from training.  I thought I would still swim, run, and especially bike just for fun, but I really haven't.  The truth is I haven't touched my road bike since getting back from Austin.  I feel a little guilty because it's such a nice bike and I LOVE it.

Nobody puts Orbea in the corner

At the same time, I want to be honest with myself.  If I'm not feelin' it, I'm not feelin' it.  And, it's not like I'm not getting exercise.  In fact, I go to the YMCA (err...the Y) so often that I'm the Mayor on Foursquare!  And, taking some time away from my Orbea might just lead to us having a stronger relationship in the future.

I actually have been riding, just not on my road bike.  I borrowed my neighbor's hybrid to ride the Moonlight Classic and basically never gave it back.  I started riding it around everywhere.  It was so fun and really nice not to have to deal with parking and traffic -- especially great for trips downtown and to the gym.  I never felt comfortable riding my road bike in street clothes (not to mention street shoes) and I was always so paranoid about it getting stolen that I rarely used it to get from point A to point B.  I know I'm way late to the game, but I finally get why people are so enthusiastic about biking as a mode of transportation!  I'm kinda like people who started watching DVDs of Lost after it had been on for a few years and were like "Whoa... this top-rated, critically acclaimed show that everyone's always talking and blogging about is, like, good!"

I knew I couldn't keep free-loading forever.  I got home from the gym one night (using my neighbor's bicycle, of course) and decided that the next day my mission would be Project GettaBike.  Then a friend called to see if I wanted to join her for a walk to Whole Foods to get a popsicle.  Always!  When we reached the end of my block, I saw a mountain bike chained up to a tree with a flashing neon sign (in the metaphorical sense) that said:  "Bike for Sale."  It was a Giant bike with Shimano gears, so I knew it was a solid bike (not a Wal-Mart POS).  It was in good condition and road nicely when I took it for a spin.  I googled it (thank-you Droid!) and the seller was asking for about 1/5 the retail price of the 2010 model of the same bike.  

This reminded me of how my neighbor (whose bike I had been borrowing) got her new puppy.  An unexpected sequence of events caused her to end up at the Dumb Friends League where she met a woman who was bawling because she had a newborn baby at home and couldn't take care of both the baby and her puppy.  The woman decided she had no choice but to give the puppy up.  My neighbor hadn't planned on getting a second dog, but she immediately thought of the Yiddish word "b'shert" or "meant to be."  She was so convinced that adopting this puppy was meant to be that she named the dog B'shert (BiBi for short).

BiBi the puppy (because popular opinion is that puppies are cute)

I felt the same way about this bike.  Even though it was a somewhat impulsive decision, it just felt like it was meant to be.  I considered naming my new bike BiBi, but I think it's against Jewish tradition to name someone (or something) after a living relative (or neighboring puppy).  Even though I had planned to get a hybrid not a mountain bike, it is pretty easy to turn a mountain bike into a speedier commuter by switching out the tires.  I took it to my LBS and they put on new tires and tuned 'er up (which together ended up costing more than the bike itself).  The new tires work great and I'm loving riding it!

Mountain Bike Tires

Zippy Street Tires (Look, Mom - reflective safety stripe!)

See you out there!

Cap Tex Tri Race Report

I raced my first (and only) tri of the season in my hometown last weekend.  The Cap Tex Tri was a good excuse to visit my family and it was a great race!  Traveling with my bike involved lots of logistics, and I definitely could have planned ahead a lot better.  But, since it all worked out in the end, I'll skip the hiccups and frustrations and get straight to the main event! 


Pre-Race
My Dad dropped me off near the race site around 5:30am.  They had us leave our bikes there overnight, which made packing up the car and walking to the transition area a lot easier.  After I got my body-marked, I made my way into the transition area to find my bike.  The race takes place in and around downtown.  When I walked into the transition area and I was struck by how cool it was to see the Austin skyline emerging from the sea of bikes in the night sky.  I didn't have a camera with me, so I took a mental picture.  *CLICK*

The race started at 7am, but my wave was not until 8:05.  I grabbed my wetsuit, goggles, and some cliff shot blocks, and wandered down to the lake to watch the start of the race.  Since it was Memorial Day, the race honored active military and veterans.  There were a bunch of Texas A&M students at the race.  My first thought was "boo," until I realized that many of them were volunteers assisting athletes in the "wounded warrior" category and decided that the Aggies deserved a free pass for the day.  At around 7:30, I put on my wetsuit (for the first time this year), ate my shot blocks, and drank some water.  Shortly after that, I ran into my family and got to give them all hugs before the race.

Swim
The swim was in Town Lake (which has since been re-named Lady Bird Lake, but I just can't get used to that) and the 1500 meter course was shaped like one of those cork puller wine openers.  It was a treading water start and my wave was wearing blue caps.  I have no idea what the water temperature was, but I was really glad I wore my wetsuit!  The gun fired and I began my first open water swim of the year.

I felt good during the swim.  I didn't want to start too fast, so I settled into a pace that felt sustainable.  I focused on swimming with long, strong strokes.  I didn't feel like I was going very fast, but it wasn't long before I started seeing yellow caps from the wave ahead of me.  The buoys marking the turns were also yellow, which made things a little confusing.  I just thought to myself that it was a good sign every time I saw yellow - I was either passing someone or approaching a milestone in the course.  When I swam under the Congress Avenue bridge, I rolled over briefly to look for the famous Mexican free-tailed bats, but didn't see any.  I saw my Dad cheering as I headed out of the water and into T1.

Bike
The bike course for the Olympic Distance was 4 loops, which went around downtown and the Capitol.  I felt pretty discombobulated during the first loop.  When I grabbed my water bottle for my first drink, the cap fell off.  The rules are that you can't discard anything on the bike course.  Luckily I caught the bottle cap and was able to screw it back on pretty easily.  Next, the auto-multisport function of my Garmin got confused and after about three miles on the bike, it instructed me to start running.  I wanted to see my cadence and average mph so I quickly re-set my watch to the bike function as I pedaled.  Then, the number on my bike came undone, but fortunately it hung on by a thread for the remainder of the course.

The course had rolling hills and lots of sharp turns.  This was my first race with aerobars and I think I used them for most of the course, except during the turns.  I stayed in the big ring for the first two loops, but by the third and fourth loops, I figured out the spots where it made sense to drop into the small ring.  I saw my Dad at the end of the first and second loop and by the time I finished the third loop, my Mom and brother were there, too.  It was hot out and there were no aid-stations, so I knew I had to make a real effort to stay hydrated and electrolyted.  When I finished I had drunk my entire bottle of water and half of my bottle of Gatorade.  I was pleased about this - sometimes I'll come back from a ride with two almost completely full bottles.  I averaged 18.4 mph (total time 1:21), which is really good for me!

Run
When I got into the transition area, racked my bike, and took off my helmet, I realized I was drenched in sweat.  I'm not used to humidity anymore, so I decided to take my time and downed a little bit more Gatorade before heading out onto the run.  The run is usually the most challenging part for me and the challenge is often as mental as it is physical.  I tried to get myself really excited to run while I was still on the bike, but I'm not sure it worked.  I started out easy and told myself not to look at my watch to see my pace until after the first mile.  I cheated twice and caught myself at 9:41 and 10:02.  I was happy about this as I was aiming for a 10:30/mi pace.  I had given myself full permission to walk through each and every water station, but I ended up not really wanting to.  Austin knows how to plan for the heat, so there were water stations about every half mile and one of the stations had a tent with sprinklers to run through.  I ended up only walking through the two stations that had Gatorade so I could fully imbibe those electrolytes and I also walked through a station at Mile 5 so I could recharge and finish strong.    

I had a hard time with the first three miles. It's not that I wanted to stop and walk, but I didn't really want to run either.  For some reason, the image that popped into my head was a scene from one of the worst movies ever made.  (I watched Bride Wars on HBO this winter.)  There is a part where Anne Hathaway (whose character's name happens to be Emma) is running in Central Park.  She is hooked into her blue iPod shuffle and we astute viewers are supposed to remember that she said at the beginning of the movie, "iPods are for people who can't be alone with their thoughts."  Now she is distraught about fighting with her best friend and not getting along with her fiance and she can't hear Kate Hudson calling after her through her headphones.  Something about watching her feet hit the pavement in that scene made me really want to go for a run.  So for the rest of the run, I pretended that I was Anne Hathaway.  I also repeated over and over in my head, "This isn't supposed to be easy, dig deep."  I start to feel a lot better by Mile 4.  Just as I was thinking that I hadn't seen my family on the run yet and that I could really use their support, there they were at the halfway point of the second loop.

I kept an eye on my pace and saw that I was hovering around 10:30/mi, which was my goal.  As I ran across the Congress Bridge for the second time, my Garmin beeped to signify the 6 mile mark.  I was excited for the final 0.2 until I realized that either my watch was off or the course was long, because I was definitely more than 352 yards away from the finish.  (When I crossed the line, my watch read between 6.5 and 6.6.)  I felt good about the run and my overall time when I finished the race, but I confess that I was really disappointed when I got my results and saw that my run pace was actually only a 11:04/mi (a 1:08:44 10k).  The man who won the overall race PR-ed in the 10k, so I concluded that the discrepancy was with my watch, not the course.  It was hard not to think that I could have pushed myself a little more, but in the end I think I just need to trust that I did the best I could on that day, in the heat of the Texas sun. 

Finish
When I picked up my race packet the day before, I noticed that they had be down as being from Cypress, Texas instead of Denver, Colorado.  It wasn't a big deal, but they usually announce your name and town when you cross the finish line and I really wanted everyone to know that I had descended from on (mile-)high for this race.  I heard other people talking at the expo that their cities were wrong, too, so I thought they would correct it for race day.  Well, they must have re-run the excel spreadsheet (or whatever) because when they called my name I was not from Cypress, but I wasn't from Denver either.  Instead they said I was from Crawford!  Ew!  I definitely did not want to be confused with any other residents of Crawford, Texas!

They finally got my city right when they published the results.  The most exciting part of seeing the official results was how I placed in my age group!  When I race in Boulder, I'm lucky if I finish 71st out of 78.  This time, I was 26th out of 83!  That's like top-third!  Woo-hoo!

My overall results were:
Swim - 36:17
T1 - 5:54
Bike - 1:21:00 (18.4 mph)
T2 - 3:39
Run - 1:08:44 (11:04/mi)
Total: 3:15:35

T3

Now my season is over, and I head into what some on the blogosphere refer to as "T3."  I am planning to keep biking on the weekends, do the occasional open water swim for fun, and run at least a little, enough to satisfy my inner-Anne Hathaway.  I am looking forward to enjoying each discipline again without the pressure to put in a certain number of hours or miles.  I am also looking forward to having the freedom and flexibility to spend the weekends doing something else entirely or nothing at all!

Yee-haw!!!

BRICK!

I did my first brick work-out of the season tonight and, man, was it tough!

For the uninitiated, a "brick" is a back-to-back work-out with two disciplines, usually cycling and running.  After wondering about the term's origins in the car ride over and googling to no avail once I got home, I think I've concluded it's because they are both HARD.

Here is the (run-focused) brick work-out I did earlier:

- Warm-up 8 minutes running
- 1 mile time trial  running
- 2 X 2.75mi time trial biking
- 1 mile time trial running
- Cool down

Seeing it in writing makes it looks so easy, but I promise it was a challenge.  Those mile time trial runs are killer on their own!  Usually triathletes talk about how weird your legs feel when you start to run after finishing the bike.  Tonight I got to feel the extreme burn in my quads trying to bike after a pushed-run.  The goal was to have the two 1-mile runs be consistent despite the bike in between them.  I ran the first mile in 8:28 and the second in 8:38!  I was sooooo proud of myself (a) because I didn't think I'd be able to run at all once I finished the bike and (b) because I was pleased with my 1-mile pace, brick or no brick.  I averaged 16.4 mph on the bike leg, which I guess is alright considering the state of my legs.  I didn't time the two laps separately, but I am pretty sure the second loop was much slower. 

Without a doubt this was the hardest work-out I've done this year.  But, I was able to do it, which means I've been consistent in my training up to this point.  As I type, 33 days until my race!  A few more brick work-outs, aerobic runs, and long bike rides and I should be good to go.  I'm not 100% sure if I'll get a chance to practice open water swimming before race day, but I feel comfortable enough in open water that it doesn't worry me. 

I am moving apartments sometime in May, but I haven't picked a weekend yet.  I'm thinking of moving the weekend of  May 22nd since that will be my taper weekend and I won't have to worry about trying to squeeze in much training.  But.... the series finale of LOST is that Sunday and I would hate for my cable not to be hooked-up in time for that.  Decisions, decisions. 

I'm Back, Baby!

Well, I'm working out again anyway!

Now that the bar exam is over, I'm getting more sleep and have more free time.  I think lack of sleep was the main reason I had trouble getting a consistent amount of exercise while I was studying for the bar.  Now that I'm not studying all day and tossing and turning about the Rule Against Perpetuities all night, I can finally start training again.  My sights are set on May 31st - the Capital of Texas Triathlon!  I was a little worried that this wasn't the best year to pick an early season tri, given that I wasn't really able to start training in earnest until March. Then I noticed a book on my shelf called The 12-Week Triathlete.  March 8th - May 31st is twelve weeks exactly!  I can do it!  I actually think this is the perfect amount of time for me to train.  I am beginning to realize that I am a "less is more" kind of athlete.  If I train too much or for too long, I start to get burnt out and lose motivation.  And, I trust that I have enough experience and base-level fitness that I will have no problem building back up to an Olympic distance in the next three months.   

Work-out Summary (Mar. 8 - Mar. 14)

Monday:  PowerPump class (1hr); Learning the choreography to Britney Spears, "Baby One More Time" video (1hr) (Totally not kidding, and it was tough!  That girl can DANCE!)

Tuesday:  Yoga (hard) (1hr)

Wednesday: Swim (continuous swim + a few drills) (1hr)

Thursday:  Bike work-out on the trainer (1hr)

Friday:  Yoga (easy) (1hr)

Saturday:  rest day

Sunday:  7k (4.3mi) run -- Runnin' of the Green

Life Summary (Mar. 8 - Mar. 14)

Job Applications:  4

Networking Events:  3

Trips to Whole Foods:  2 (each time only for a carton of milk - big improvement from eating 3 meals a day there!) 

I felt pretty sore most of the week, but the good kind of sore.  I like being able to physically tell that I've been doing something.  The St. Patty's Day-themed 7k was literally the first time I ran since the ColderBolder in early December.  I viewed it as the official kick-off to my running season.  I didn't wear a watch, and my official time was nothing to write home about, but I was very pleased that I was able to run the whole way and that I actually enjoyed it!  I had to force my way through the Turkey Trot and the ColderBolder, but with this race I was able to just relax, run, enjoy the crowds, and enjoy running with my friend Annie.  I did a track work-out this morning and enjoyed that, too.  I don't want to jinx anything, and maybe it's just that raucous Irish spirit talking, but I feel fairly optimistic that I will be able to maintain a good attitude about running this year!  

One week down, eleven to go!

Mentally and Physically Exhausted

I came across this article (titled "Feeling Mentally Exhausted? Maybe You Should Put Off That Run") a while back and now I think I'm living it.  Studying for the Colorado Bar Exam has really put a damper on my work-out routine.  It's really kind of amazing how something that drains you mentally can drain you physically as well.

I first remember experiencing this phenomenon when I was a second-year law student.  I had just taken my first of four exams and thought I would go for a short run to de-stress before getting back to studying.  That plan didn't work so well.  If I remember correctly, I ran about three-quarters of a mile before giving up, turning around, and limping home.  Since I've been studying for the bar exam, I have been too exhausted to even attempt such a feat.  Even though I know that keeping up some degree of physical activity will benefit me mentally, I haven't been following my own advice.

This week, I was determined to re-incorporate some amount of physical activity into my daily life.  Even though I usually prefer working-out at the end of the day, I thought I would start setting my alarm early and get to the gym before studying, so I wouldn't have to motivate myself after spending hours pouring over outlines and practice tests.  I'm not going to rule this out as a strategy (it sure sounds good!), but two days in, it hasn't worked so well.  I am proud to say that I did work-out yesterday and the day before, just not in the morning as I planned.  On Monday, I took a mid-afternoon break to go on a short bike ride around Wash Park, and yesterday, I went to an evening yoga class.  When I'm in shape and in the heart of training season, these would both be pretty easy for me, practically rest day activities.  But today - I ache all over!  The yoga class I went to is fairly basic and focuses more on stretching and relaxation as opposed to a power yoga practice.  Rather than feeling stretched and relaxed, I feel like I spent hours lifting weights!

My plan is to take a page from the yoga book, i.e. honoring your body.  I'm clearly not capable of my usual amount of physical activity, so I just need to lower my expectations and do what I can.  I'm going to aim for working-out 3-4 days a week for 30 minutes to an hour, but nothing too strenuous.  Short bike rides seem to fit the bill nicely (weather permitting) as does the occasional yoga class.  I'm also going to get back into hula-hooping, and hula-hoop during study-breaks to get the blood flowing.  And, I might break-out my hand-weights and start doing the Target Toning for Beginners from my watch-instantly Netflix queue again.  (I always feel so encouraged when that peppy blond woman tells me what a great arm work-out I did!)  Triathlon training season officially starts next week, so I guess we'll see if it's too much to incorporate a little swimming as well.

To keep myself motivated, I also plan to blog each week about the past week's work-outs and how I felt.

Now, back to criminal procedure!

Race Report: ColderBolder

A little late, but finally a few words on my "big" winter race this year - the ColderBolder 5K.

As I mentioned in my last post, my motivation to train and run this race had been slowly dwindling. Dwindling to the point that I seriously considered sleeping in and blowing it off. But, I persevered - my main motivation being that I didn't want to waste the race registration money and I wanted to collect my Headsweats Alpine Reversible Cocona Beanie. So, I dutifully made the drive to Boulder.

After parking, registering, and making a bathroom stop, I huddled near the start line. The waves were going off 10 minutes apart and mine was the last of the invitational waves. Lining up, I started to get excited and felt glad that I was participating. The gun went off and that pre-race excitement lasted about half a mile. After the first few minutes, I seriously wanted to quit. I've been really drained emotionally lately - the stress of finding a job is getting to me and I had been particularly upset the day before. For me, running is as mental an exercise as it is a physical one. When I'm in the pool or on my bike, I can lose my thoughts more easily and just get into the rhythm of it. But, sometimes when I run, it's like I have to will myself through each and every step. When I'm not feeling it, I'm not feeling it. ColderBolder morning, I wasn't feeling it.

I quickly shifted into "survival" mode, for lack of a better term. I told myself that I should completely forget about my time (luckily I left my Garmin at home) and asked myself to simply run the rest of the way without stopping to walk. Sounds silly, right? Although I am by no means a great athlete, one thing I know I can do is run 3 miles continuously! "Run the whole way" is a goal for a marathon or half-marathon, not a silly little 5K. But, I suppose that's how it goes sometimes. You never know what variables you will be working with on a given race day or training day and you have to roll with the punches. Sometimes what you think will be an exercise of prowess and speed turns into a grueling task of perseverance. And, as much as I wanted to quit, I'm happy I persevered. I felt like I was slowing down to 11 minute miles, but I kept willing each foot to follow the other. Things looked up a little when I passed the second mile-marker, which was right near the starting line. The open wave was scheduled to start 20 minutes after my wave and they hadn't started yet, so I knew I was running sub-10 minute miles after all. I kept it up and finished in 30:48 (9:55/mile). It felt like icing on the perseverance cake to finish with a sub-10 min/mile pace.

What kept going through my head during the race was a scene from Austin Powers 2: The Spy Who Shagged Me -- Austin looks at the camera bewildered and exclaims, "I've lost my Mojo!" As I ran, I kept reminding myself of the movie's "lesson" -- if you have Mojo, no one can take it, it's just a matter of finding it within yourself. (I swear, I'm not obsessed with Austin Powers -- I've only seen this movie once, but for whatever reason it popped into my head!)

Even though I've been feeling a little Mojo-less lately, I know I haven't lost it, and I know I'll get it back, sports-wise and life-wise.

Turkey Trot and Stuff(ing)

I'm in training again - this time for a 5k. It seems kind of silly to train for a 5K, but it probably doesn't matter since I've been interpreting the word "train" rather loosely. I don't usually run once tri season is over, so the fact that I'm running at all these days is huge.

The Race: The ColderBolder. Advertised as "A really cool 5K without any people that are faster than you." The deal is they invite all qualifying finishers of the BolderBoulder to participate in a 5K against only people who finished the 10K within 2 minutes of them. My BB time last year was 60:11, so I was invited to participate in the 60:00-61:59 Invite Race - the last (but not least!) of the many waves of 5K races. The motivating factor is that you have a theoretical chance of winning.

Training: I thought training for the ColderBolder (and the chance at a podium finish) would accomplish two things: (1) motivate me to run, period, and (2) motivate me to do more speed work. I signed up for a free training program on active.com, which sends me an email everyday telling me what sort of training I should do. So each morning, I check my email and if it's convenient and I feel like running, I do the suggested work-out. (You can tell how committed I am to this!) On the whole I've been averaging two days of running a week and have done a couple of speed work sessions. About two days a week, the active.com email suggests 30 minutes of "low" cross-training. Since I really savor my gym time during the winter, most of my "low" 30 minutes of cross-training work-outs ended up being two hours of fairly intense group exercise classes. Often, this left me sore and not feeling up to my suggested run the next day. Maybe, I'm just not meant to be a winter-runner. :)

Goal: Based on my BB time, in theory I would finish the 5K in just under 29 minutes, at a pace of 9:19/mi. But, as they say, IN THEORY, communism works. I'm not in as good running shape now as I was then, so running at that pace is probably an unrealistic goal. I've let go of the hope that I will get to stand on the podium. As per usual, I'm just going to go out there and try to do my best. I'd love to run a 9:30/mi, but I think I'll be happy with anything sub-10:00/mi.


Turkey Trot: I ran the Turkey Trot 4-miler this morning. I thought of it as a pre-race race or a practice tempo run before the "big" day (Saturday, December 5th). It was actually pretty fun to see so many runners and families out there - many wearing turkey headdresses and other T-Day inspired swag. My Garmin ran out of batteries at the starting line so I ran the whole race "caveman-style." It was probably good for me to just run without worrying about my pace or time. I finished in 40:33 (10:08/mi) - slower than I was hoping for, but still decent. It wasn't great racing conditions either (lots of bobbing and weaving around walkers, joggers, and strollers). I imagine I'll do much better next weekend, as being surrounded by fast runners usually makes me run faster.

It's so weird, but I find the shorter distances much more challenging. During most of mile-3, the little voice in my head kept saying "I hate running" over and over. It's kind of the watched-kettle-never-boils phenomenon. When I know the race won't take me much time, it feels like it is taking forever! Today it seemed like I was running for a very long time before finally passing the one-mile marker. But, when I did the Rocky Mountain Half-Marathon last summer, I knew that I would be out running for awhile and each mile seemed to tick by so quickly, one after the other.

After the ColderBolder next weekend, no more running until February! Now, that's something to be thankful for...

Grand, Indeed, and Worth 1000 Words

At the entrance to Grand Teton!

Jenny Lake

Oxbow Bend

Heron Pond

Iconic view of the Snake River twisting towards the Grand

Lewis Falls in Yellowstone

Lewis Lake (Yellowstone)

Quintessential Yellowstone - buffalo in a geyser!


To the main (geyser) event

Before...

After!

Antlers were everywhere in Jackson

Longhorn fans, too, apparently!

Local brew = great way to end the day

First 14-ers, Part II: Mt. Massive

The mystery of Day 2 actually began around 7:30pm the night of Day 1. We set up camp in the San Isabel National Forest and planned to wait to pack up camp once we were done hiking on Sunday. Because we were very tired from Mt. Elbert and planned to wake up around 3:30-4am, we all retired to our tents around 7:30pm. I laid in my sleeping bag reading by the light of my headlamp for awhile. It was a little windy and I heard some rustling, but didn't think too much of it as campsites often go hand-in-hand with creepy noises. Later, when I was still up reading with my light on, I swore that I heard footsteps nearby, saw a flashlight right outside my tent, and heard the zipper of a tent or a sleeping bag open and close several times. I was scared, but convinced myself that it was one of the other girls and finally went to sleep. At breakfast the next morning, my two friends reported hearing similar noises. This freaked me out enough that the first thing I googled after getting home was "san isabel national forest halfmoon campground ghost." (Didn't find anything). I know it probably wasn't a ghost. My best guesses are the wind and/or the jerky guys in the campsite next to ours. Regardless, it was enough to make us want to pack up camp before leaving for the hike. This ended up being a good thing. More on that later.

The hike! We started hiking Mt. Massive around 5am. It was still dark out, so we hiked with our headlamps for the first couple hours.



















We emerged from the forested area around 7am when the sun was rising over the mountains.




















Mt. Massive is called a Class 2 climb, which is defined as "More difficult hiking that may be off-trail. You may also have to put your hands down occasionally to keep your balance. May include easy snow climbs or hiking on talus/scree." (Mt. Elbert was Class 1 -- "Easy hiking, usually on a good trail.") And, there were two routes to get to the summit that formed a loop. One route was 3 steep miles, the other was 5.5 miles in a more gradual climb. We decided to take the 5.5 mile climb up and then assess at the top whether to take the steep route down or go back the way we came. Everything we read suggested that the 5.5 miles route was fairly easy. Well, I thought it was freakin' hard! But then again, it was only my second 14-er ever, not to mention in as many days!


The first 2-3 miles weren't bad and the scenery was incredible - much more varied than Mt. Elbert.







Then we got to this part:





































This part, though grueling, wasn't actually as bad as what came later. Some of the rocks were loose, but for the most part it was pretty solid footing. I made up a system for getting up this. I looked down at my feet and counted ten steps, then I stopped to look up and figure out where I was going. When I felt more comfortable, I started counting 20, 30, or 40. Closer to the "top" (of this stretch only) I reverted back to 10 steps at a time.

Then it started snowing.


































The snow didn't last long and we pressed on. The rest of the climb was a ridge trail with a series of "false summits", meaning lots of ups and downs. Not too long after this, we were atop one of the summits and noticed a tube containing a log - we summitted!!!




































Or so we thought . . . We looked in the log tube more carefully and saw a sign that read, "Mt. North Massive, 14,421 ft 14,340 ft." We had hiked a 14-er, but not the one we were aiming for. It must be just the next summit over, right? Wrong!

The next summit over was particularly difficult and took us a long time. We couldn't go over the top and we had to go the long way around the side to avoid a large patch of ice. Not to mention that the scree was really loose on this part and almost every movement sent rocks and gravel down the side.







I was able to push through this part because I really, really thought that the next peak was Mt. Massive, the real thing. I felt so demoralized when I reached the top and realized it wasn't. But, when we finally were looking up at the actual Mt. Massive, the sky was looking pretty ominous. It was getting late, we had already made it up to a summit of 14,ooo+ feet, we were worried about lightening, and at this point I was so frustrated I cared much more about making it back to the trailhead than making it up to Mt. Massive. We made the decision that it wasn't worth the risk to try to summit and hung out in a rock alcove for awhile, seeking shelter and making a plan.

Since we weren't going to summit, the shorter 3 mile route to get back along the ridge was not an option. We had to get back down to the trail we came up on without turning around and going back the way we came. This involved more loose scree and took FOREVER! I wanted to keep my center of gravity low and I was afraid of slipping on loose rocks, so I pretty much just slid all the way down on my butt. I have ripped pants to prove it!






























After this, I tried to keep my spirits up, but I was in full on death march mode. I just wanted to get back to the car and tried to focus on putting one foot in front of the other. Much more than the day before, I was feeling the elevation and had been the entire hike. It wasn't so much the aerobic challenge or lactic acid build-up in my legs, it just felt like I was wearing ankle weights. Putting one foot in front of the other was much more challenging than usual.

We finally got back to the car around 7pm - 14 hours of hiking! I have to say I was glad that ghosts or whoever scared us out of the campsite that morning so we didn't have to go back and pack up our tents. That would have sucked.

I was glad that I was able to summit a second 14-er and I really enjoyed the scenery (before I switched into death march mode). The fact that we didn't quite make it up to the Mt. Massive summit makes me feel that there is some unfinished business. The next time I attempt it, I'm definitely going for the shorter route even if it's harder. But, I need at least a year moratorium from Massive before I can even contemplate tackling it again. For now, I got my first 14-ers under my belt--pretty challenging ones, to boot--and that's all that matters.

First 14-ers, Part I: Mt. Elbert

We set off on our journey to hike Mt. Elbert--the highest point in Colorado--around 6:45am. This was a little later than we had planned on, but more on that later.
















Once we got above treeline, there was a great view of Twin Lakes - gorgeous!















The trail was basically up, up, and more up. Steep and challenging aerobically, but nothing technical. Just walking, no scrambling.

































Yeah! Made it to the summit around 10:30am. My first time ever at 14,000 feet and atop the highest peak in Colorado!




The main mystery of this hike was the reason we got started later than planned. When we pulled up to the trailhead, we saw smoke, red embers, and a few flames. When we got closer we realized that the sign marking the trail was on fire! We grabbed some jugs of water to douse it and so did the car in front of us. Upon closer inspection, it looked to be intentional. There were logs set up directly in front of it and a few beer cans and empty bags of chips. We hung around awhile to call 911 and let someone know what was happening. While we were waiting we met these two guys, who eventually became our main suspects. At first they said that they had showed up at 2am and saw the sign engulfed in flames and moved some of the logs to keep it from burning more. They claimed, "Yeah, dude, it must have been some drunk college kids or something. We did our best to put it out." Once we realized how much these two reeked of alcohol, we were pretty doubtful that it was, in fact, "drunk college kids" who started it. The sheriff called us back later to get more information once he got to the trailhead and realized how bad it was. By the time we got down at the end of the hike, one of the three signs had fallen.

After this hike, it was on to the campsite to rest up for Mt. Massive.

What's Next?

Now that tri season is over and I no longer have to wake up at the crack of dawn for racing and training, the main advantage is . . . now I can wake up at the crack of dawn for a day of hiking!

One thing I've regretted about being so into triathlon since moving to Colorado is that I haven't had as many opportunities to enjoy the natural beauty of my own backyard. As a first step in making more of an effort to get out in the great outdoors, yesterday I joined two friends and hiked 13,375 feet to the top of South Arapahoe Peak in the Indian Wilderness. I was worried about the elevation and that even though I'm in shape, I'm not really in "hiking shape," but I did just fine. Even though it was chilly and very cloudy, the scenery was beautiful and it was great to spend my Friday off in the mountains.

It is supposedly very normal to feel a sense of let down once you meet your major race goals for the season. Last year, I was not sad about the end of tri season, but I was completely burnt out. This year, I feel neither let down or burnt out. I'm not struggling with "what do I do now?" nor does the sight of my bike or the thought of running make me want to vomit. Since I purposely divide my year between "training for a goal" season and "exercising for the sake of exercising" season, I'm content to arrive at the latter. Since I'm a gym rat at heart, I'll happily go back to Zumba, hip hop, spinning, lifting, step, yoga, and Pilates. And, now that my weekends are free from long runs and long bike rides, I'm going to try to get more into hiking and outdoorsy stuff. Also, I'm planning to combine gym work-outs and the great outdoors by trying out Boot Camp at Red Rocks.

Even though this feels very "cart before horse," I'm already thinking about my triathlon goals for next year. Since they are bopping around my head, might as well write them down. I suppose the only post-season disappointment I feel is that I really loved the Half-Ironman distance, but I know I can't commit to training for them too often without burning out. I really want my summer back and I want next year's to be significantly more unscheduled. It would be so nice to be able to say "yes" to an invitation for camping without hesitating because I need to do a 60-mile bike ride or be able to zip down to Austin for the weekend without having to squeeze in a 10-mile run at Town Lake. Therefore, the current plan is to do two triathlons early in the season and then have the rest of the summer to do whatever I like. I'm thinking of doing the Cap Tex Tri (Olympic distance) in Austin on Memorial Day and TriathlON Friday in early June - a new sprint distance in Denver that is on Friday evening so you don't have to wake up at 4:15am!

I'm also thinking of a vague three year plan. I would focus more on biking next summer and maybe train for the MS-150 or some other multi-day rides or centuries. The following year, I would focus on doing 3-4 half-marathons and some 10Ks and see if I can improve my running. The next year, I would put all three sports together again and go for another Half-Ironman or other challenging race. One race I'd really like to do in the next few years is Escape From Alcatraz. It looks like so much fun and is theoretically a good one for me because the most challenging leg is the swim.

And now back to enjoying the rest of my first post-season weekend! A mani/pedi is in order!

TriathLONG!

It's done - I finished the 5430 Long Course yesterday with a total time of 6:55:07! It was a great experience and surprisingly doable (though definitely a challenge). The key factors seemed to be pacing myself, staying hydrated, taking in enough calories and electrolytes, and keeping a calm mind.

Pre-Race

The night before, I had one of the best nights of sleep I've ever had before a race and probably the best night of sleep I'd had in the last couple weeks. Perhaps I owe this to my plan of taking care of all logistics the day before, so I didn't have do much besides pick up my race packet and lay around watching The West Wing. My brain wasn't still reeling with mental to-do lists and reminders, so it was easier than usual to fall asleep around 9:30. I woke up once at 2:30, but went right back to sleep and didn't even hit snooze when my alarm sounded at 4:15.

I got to the transition area and found a spot in the racks for Wave 10. It was right near the Porta-Potties, so it didn't smell that great for 5am, but at least it made it easier to find my bike during transitions. The girl who racked her bike next to me tied a fake Gerber daisy around our rack as a marker. Gerber daisies are my favorite flower, so this was a nice addition to the transition set up.

For a race of this distance, there was more transition gear and steps to think of - mostly related to food and staying comfortable. I was afraid of forgetting something important, so I decided to stuff the transition items I was most afraid of forgetting into my shoes. Going on to the bike, I didn't think I would forget my socks, helmet, sunglasses, or bike gloves, but I was worried I would forget to put plenty of Cliff Shot Blocks in my back pockets. Likewise, going into the run, I knew I could remember my hat and race number, but I thought I might not remember to throw on more sunscreen, apply anti-chafing lotion, and grab more food. This strategy worked pretty well.

Here's me in my Porta-Potty-Proximate transition slot. I usually wear this same T-shirt before all of my races - the big, important ones anyway. This shirt was from the Corpus Christi "Swashbuckler's" Beginner's Triathlon, my first ever multi-sport race. It wasn't even a full sprint distance - just a 200 yard swim in a pool, a 10 mile bike ride, and a 2 mile run. I did it with my helmet on backwards and almost no air in my tires (this was before I realized you were supposed to pump your tires before every ride). I wear it as a little security blanket and a reminder of how far I've come.

Swim - 1.2 miles - 42:26

My wave (the very last) didn't start until 7:15, forty-five minutes after the gun for the first wave. This gave me plenty of time to put on my wetsuit and mill around on the beach before getting in the warm-up. I was chilly so I was excited to finally warm-up in both senses of the word and plopped in the water around 6:55. This is the point when I usually start to get nervous, sitting in the water, anticipating the start. But yesterday, I felt remarkably calm. I've done rehearsals for this distance twice before (though, never with the full run) and both times I remember sighing to myself while waiting in the water, "Man, this is the beginning of a very, very long day." My mind didn't go there Sunday and, while I'd like to think it was because I felt so confident in my training and preparation, I think most of the credit goes to that FANTASTIC night of sleep.

Women 30-34 shared a wave with Men 20-24. I'm not sure I've ever started in a wave with guys before, so I wasn't quite sure where to place myself. I put myself about mid-pack, slightly further back than usual. Although it was nice and cloudy for the earlier waves, the sun came out just in time for me to spend yet another morning in Boulder squinting in search of the buoys. The start was a little more chaotic than I've had in awhile. For the first 50 meters there were people on top of me and all around me. I eventually carved out spot for myself and felt pretty good. The water was calm and I didn't have any panic attacks that my wetsuit was strangling me like during last month's Boulder Peak. Swimming is by far my strongest of the three sports, but I didn't think it would be worth it to spend too much energy hammering out a super-fast swim time. Mentally, I thought of the swim as a warm-up and made a conscious effort to cruise through the swim and feel fresh going on to the bike. The one positive to starting last was that I didn't have to worry about different-colored swim caps from later waves creeping in on me - if I saw another colored cap, it meant I was catching them. By the last stretch of buoys, I was almost completely surrounded by red and blue caps (my wave wore white) so I figured I was making decent time. I cranked the speed a little for the last stretch and ran up the hill to the transition area.

Bike - 56 miles - 3:26:09 (16.3 mph)

The bike started out with a slight hiccup - I had barely turned out of the reservoir when I switched gears and my chain fell off. I might have jinxed myself the day before when I thought to myself that I hadn't had to adjust my chain in awhile and maybe I should practice that before the race. I did not end up practicing and instead got to practice right there on the course. Luckily it only took about 30 seconds to fix and, since I was just getting started, I didn't lose much rhythm or momentum.

My main goals on the bike were to stay hydrated and re-fuel regularly and to push it as much as I could without killing my legs. I set my watch to beep every 5 minutes to remind me to eat and drink - I drank water at every beep, drank Gatorade at every other beep, and ate a Shot Block at every third beep. I doubt I kept that rotation exactly, but overall it worked pretty well. The first 12 miles (of the 28 mile loop) are mostly a steady incline, then a few miles of awesome downhill, then it flattens out with a slight incline towards the end. I had an easier time with the uphill part than the last time I practiced it. I was able to stay in my big ring almost the entire time, dropping into the small ring occasionally to get up some of the hills. At one point during the second loop, I realized that I hadn't switched back to my big ring once a hill had flattened out and I was so annoyed at the speed I must have lost that I stayed in the big ring, stood up, and powered up the next hill. This was probably a mistake as it resulted in a cramp that lasted the remainder of the bike ride. I spent the rest of the time trying to make it go away. A cramp isn't so bad on the bike, but I knew it would be really uncomfortable on the run. I stopped taking in calories for awhile and just focused on small sips of water and deep yogic breathing. It didn't feel completely gone by the time I dismounted, but I didn't notice it at all once I started running.

Even though my second loop was much more uncomfortable than the first, I managed to keep a pretty consistent pace, finishing each loop with an average speed of 16.3 mph. The last time I did this ride at race pace, it took me 3:33, so I was happy for the 7 minute improvement and for an average speed above 16 mph.

Run - 13.1 miles - 2:35:44 (11:54/mi)

My quads were definitely feeling the burn as I got ready for the run. I headed out of the transition area trying my best to ignore the many people already finished and finishing and focused on the task at hand. My absolute only goals during the run were to (1) stay sane and (2) keep cool. I had planned and practiced running 5:1 intervals -- run for 5 minutes, walk for 1 -- and set my Garmin to beep accordingly. I adjusted the display so it only showed me how long I had left in each interval. I didn't even want to think about my pace. Although I felt a little sheepish stopping to walk midway through mile 1, I was happy to have the break. The first couple miles were tough, but eventually I settled into it. I drank water and Gatorade at every aid station and also grabbed ice to put in my hat and ice water sponges to stick inside my sports bra.

I could tell I was keeping a pretty good pace on my run-intervals, but I kept doing the walk-breaks nonetheless. I adjusted the timing of the walk-breaks occasionally, mostly to accomodate hills and aid stations. I felt so strong that I wondered if it was silly of me to walk periodically. But, I decided that this was cocky - the reason I felt so strong was because I was taking the time to walk. I'd much rather walk on purpose throughout than go to hard and be forced to walk out of necessity. Plus, the mental benefit of breaking the run into six-minute segments was incalculable.

Finishing the first loop and going into the second was a little challenging, just because most people running around me were on their second loop and going into the finish. The crowd was cheering, "Keep going - you're almost there," but I still had 6.5 miles to go. I had prepared myself for this and kept my head high when asking a volunteer which way to go to continue for a second loop. I was totally fine, but then someone in the crowd recognized that I was still going, yelled out my race number and told me I looked strong. It sounds silly, but that random support from a stranger made me so emotional I thought I was going to cry and was fighting back tears for the next mile.

I think I enjoyed the run more than any other leg, which is surprising because it was the one I was most terrified of. I just couldn't believe how strong and capable I felt for most of the half-marathon. It did get hard again towards the end - I thought I was going to cry again at mile 12, half because I couldn't believe I had run that far and half because I didn't want to keep running to the finish line. Once I got off the dirt trail around the Rez and hit the parking lot for the last three-quarters of a mile, I wouldn't let myself take any more walk-breaks. At long last, I veered into the finishers chute and saw my awesome cheering section of friends and family as I crossed the line. Awesome feeling!

I finished with an overall time of 6:55:07. I was predicting a time of around 7 hours, but secretly worried it was going to take me closer to 7:30. I was delighted to come in sub-7.

When you cross the line at an Ironman, they announce your name and say "You . . . are . . . an Ironman!" They don't say anything like that at a Half-Ironman, because the rhetoric doesn't quite work. But hey, I'll say it. I'm half an Iron(wo)man, and that ain't bad!