Doggone Gone and Done It

In the words of Shania, well, I doggone gone and done it.

Last night I set out for a bike ride on a new-to-me trail, intending only to ride 7 miles out and 7 back. But when I got to the lake at the end of the “out,” I was feeling good, the weather was cooler than expected, and I had plenty of daylight left. So I thought, “Why not do a loop around the lake before heading back?” I ended up riding 25 miles instead of 14 and “racing” to reach my car before dark.

In truth, I sorely regretted the last 5 miles or so: I was SO tired! But I had no choice except to ride back to my car; I certainly didn’t want to walk back 5 miles. Seriously, I was SO tired and just wanted to rest a bit, but it was getting dark! So I kept pedaling.

And I had my new BAWG kit to test out. BAWG is an acronym for Bad-Ass Warrior Goddess, and I think the sexy kit with Wonder Woman-esque design gave me delusions of strength.

Well, I doggone gone and done it. Planned on 14 miles but felt good when I got to the lake and thought "why not add a lap?" I might have regretted the last 5 miles out of 25 total, but I will sleep well. #BAWG #triathlontraining #everydayislegday #quadzilla #ENELL #fitasfuckfeminist

A photo posted by Moniqa Aylin (@fierymon) on May 12, 2016 at 7:01pm PDT

But I did it! I made it back to my car just after dusk fell and drove myself home to sit upon an ice pack and sip a stout beer. I was exhausted and my muscles ached, but I felt that ‘satisfaction of a workout well-done’ languor. And I looked damn good in my new kit.

Flexible Training for Real Life

I set up a pretty intense training plan for myself leading up to the May 22 Olympic triathlon. I never follow training plans religiously, but I’ve been sticking pretty close and enjoying my workouts this year. I may go to bed at 8 PM most nights, but I still make social plans when I can, and I have a life outside my sport. So I plan for flexible adherence as well.

Saturday I was supposed to run 6 miles for the first week of Hal Higdon’s marathon training plan, but I had signed up to run the Dash Down Greenville 5k. I planned to run an extra 3 miles when I got home that afternoon, because it can still count even if you split up your miles across the day. But I walked a mile to the start, ran the thing, walked a mile back to my car, and walked an additional 6 and a half miles that afternoon and would not run any more that day. I was certainly active enough on my feet, and one day isn’t going to have a negative impact on my plan to run a marathon 9 MONTHS from now.

Sunday was busy with socializing but not physically demanding. That night I had an especially wicked migraine and went to bed before 7 PM without setting an alarm. I woke naturally at 4:45 Monday feeling surprisingly decent, so I jumped out of bed and went to Camp Gladiator. My performance felt a bit weak and slow, but I finished every task and felt okay about it.

I went to bed early Monday and set my 4:30 AM alarm but was really tired and slept instead of working out Tuesday morning. I often have trouble identifying the difference between actually needing a little more sleep some days for recovery and just wanting to stay in bed because of my depression. The migraine hangovers can last a few days, so I’m not going to fret about needing an additional rest day so soon.

I’m confident that I'll hit it hard tomorrow.

Beating one’s self up over a missed workout doesn’t accomplish anything and is more likely to lead to more missed workouts. Life happens. Let it go.

There’s always tomorrow.

A shitty swim

So today's swim was interrupted by a sudden panic over my long tri in May. Anxiety Brain didn't care that I still have plenty of time to train or that I'm finally comfortable in the water or that, hey, I'm trying to breathe and focus on swimming HERE. . . . RIGHT NOW.

"This is a pool. A POOL. It doesn't even compare. Open water is so awful; you can't possibly prepare for that! You can only swim 500 meters in open water and not fast or well. Why is does this tri have A MILE-LONG SWIM? It should be 800-1000 meters. No team, no coach. How could ANYONE do this alone?"

 

There wasn't even space to remember that I'll have two or three well-supported open-water swim-only races with an organization I like in the weeks before the tri. And if the weather patterns continue as they are, the lake will be plenty warm for all events so I won't even have to struggle against cold water.

And right now I'm not even supposed to be thinking about anything beyond my sprint tri in in two weeks!

Thanks a lot, brain.

There's an inspirational quote that says a good goal should scare you a little. I don't think this is what it meant.

Aaand I just read an article that says "By far, the majority of injuries or trauma on race day occur during the Swim." YIKES! I have indeed read some swim-start horror stories.

BUT I've done open water wade-in AND jump-in swim race starts without panicking, so I should be able to again.

Challenge mindset: I guess I need to plan a few trips to the beach in the next two months and bring a safety buddy. The weather has been unseasonably warm these winter months, so the water should be especially nice in a few weeks. Or at least warmer than freezing, which is what matters. I’ve never tried freestyle swimming in salt water, but I know lots of people do it, and Galveston has long, shallow swim beaches with little risk of rip tides. And I do love the beach.

A Hard Ride

Training has a lot of ups and downs. I had a rough bike ride today, and Lizard Brain is really letting it get to me. This morning I found myself woefully under-dressed for the chilly lake air and cut my ride short due to an under-inflated tire, the cold, and the perpetual pain my vulva feels whenever I ride.*

This is the second time I've touched my bike since that godawful Labor Day triathlon.

Logic Brain knows a 30-minute ride "ain't nothin," I'll be better prepared next time, and I've got enough time before my races to get where I need to be (a mid-March Sprint and late-May Oly). And, remember, I had an AWESOME 5-mile run last night.

But feelings don't listen to Logic Brain.

There is no small bit of fear floating around in here that I've bitten off more than I can chew by signing up for that late-May Olympic-distance triathlon (1-mile swim + 24.1-mile ride + 10k run). I can comfortably swim and bike 1/3 of those distances and do 2/3 of that run.

Putting them all together, though? I've got a long way to go.

And now it occurs to me that my emotional responses may be wrecked by this Sunday's and Monday's migraines, and I'll probably be okay soon enough. That would explain . . . a lot of this week.

*I have an appointment Tuesday for a bike fitting. I should have done it a long time ago, certainly before my 15 miles of tears at the Labor Day tri, but the "cheap" service is a whopping $75. I don't know how anyone can afford this sport.

Fuzzy

I stopped shaving my legs a couple years ago and my underarms last year. It's too time consuming and makes my skin irritated and scabby, and I'm just not that hairy in the first place. It's visible, but my boyfriends of the time didn't notice until I'd mentioned it.

Though I confess, I feel like kind of a weirdo being the only participant (as far as I can see) with hairy legs at triathlons. But I have no doubt that the egregious amount of time I might spend shaving is much better applied to training and technique. I certainly don't race with any intent to meet conventions that dictate female attractiveness, and a speed improvement of microseconds just isn't worth the effort (or pain). I've read that one purpose of shaving for sport is to remove dead skin cells, but I exfoliate regularly as is.

Is there anyone else?

Swim strife

This time classmate Miguel did not come and coach ragged on Emily the whole time and that was definitely worse than every other class.
When we went to begin backstroke drills, he instructed us to first do 50 yards just kicking and then 50 swim. He turned to me to repeat himself, saying that I had mistakenly swum when he said kick in last class. I stared back blankly. “Oh, you don’t remember, do you? No matter. This time, just kick.”

I knew he was talking about Emily’s mistake last week, which she then repeated this time. I know we’re both white girls in black sport suits, but I’m easily twice her age and wearing a neon green swim cap. And this is our fourth class together and there are only three students total.

Surprisingly, he praised the work I’d been doing to improve my form and said that was very good when I finished a lap. Then he turned to Emily and said that was “very bad, not good at all.” We thought for a moment he might be jesting, but he was serious and went on to tell her what was wrong. She became very flustered throughout class.

I just don’t get it. The rest of the time he does a gret job pointing out what individual things we should work on to improve our form and explaining them in detail, and it’s been very helpful. So why the negativity? As I said before, this is a city rec center swim class. It’s not a master’s class, it’s not a team practice, it’s not a private coaching session, no one here is training for the Olympics.

I may have very limited experience with teaching, but I’m fairly certain you’re not supposed to tell your students that their efforts are “very bad.”

Just two classes left.

Swim struggles

In swim class last Tuesday, after instructing us to swim 50 yards front crawl at 80 percent effort and I did, coach asked me in a dubious tone if I was sure that was 80 percent. To which I nodded confidently, breathless, which upon seeing he conceded. It was not an unfair question, but he’s seen my abilities with regards to speed and conspicuously didn’t ask it of my classmates.

To be honest, it was not 80 percent in that I cannot fully comprehend sprinting and have nary a fast twitch fiber in my body, but it was 80 percent in that I would maintain a challenging, gasping pace throughout class without floundering.

Yes, I am a slow swimmer. This is why I paid for a swim conditioning class. But I am only slightly and not always slower than the two young teens in my class. I push myself, really, enough that I'd probably cry except that I'd drown.
At the end of class, he said to me alone that two times a week (how often our class meets) is not enough exercise, so I cheerfully informed him that I run and bike all the other days, not mentioning my frequent two-a-days on top of that. I’m more interested in learning what I can from these sessions than challenging this man.

Later I wondered what on earth he meant by “enough.” Enough for what? It might be enough and all one has time for if she has a full time job and maybe children. It might be enough and all one has time for if she’s a full-time student with other extracurriculars. It might be enough for someone recovering from a running injury. It might be enough for someone looking to crosstrain for her sport. It might be enough for anyone at all trying to add enjoyable movement to their lives.

This is a city rec center swim class. It’s not a master’s class, it’s not a team practice, it’s not a private coaching session, no one here is training for the Olympics or any other competition for that matter. I’m here for triathlon but not to compete; I wanna make sure I can knock out the swim on race day and have something left for the bike and run.

There are three classes left in this session; I don't think I have it in me to sign up for the next. I hate that these are so late in the evening and am really looking forward to going back to my 5 a.m. practices. I’ll keep training through the winter and think about classes again after the New Year.

On Depression and Training

CN: depression
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My depression meds spontaneously stopped working a few weeks ago* and this week has been really really hard. But I'm fighting really hard and want to share.

Saturday I ran in the morning, took a nap, and then struggled to get out of bed again, succeeded in arriving at the pool fifteen minutes before close and getting in a mere five laps just to get it done. Sunday I got in a decent run and swim.

Monday I'd planned to do the same but woke up dead tired and had to call it a rest day. I struggled to get out of bed at all. Tuesday I struggled to get out of bed and went into work late but ran after despite a tummy ache and swam hard in swim class that evening. Wednesday I struggled to get out of bed and went in to work late but swam after.

Today I got up early and went for a bike ride but cut it in half because my tires were low and bugging me. I racked the bike on my car and was overcome with inexplicable overwhelming despair, so I decided to walk a bit since it was pretty outside. I stopped in the dog park for a few minutes to watch puppies play. These things should have cheered me up but didn't. As I headed back to my car, I realized I probably should have locked my bike or put it in the car, but no harm no foul and no use berating myself for failing at higher functioning in this state. I couldn't get past the strong urge to cry for no reason at all, though, and decided to call in to work.

I'm missing swim class now because of a migraine and feel bad about that because these classes are important to me. But tomorrow is another day.

I made an appointment today to see my doc, but he doesn't have any openings til next Friday, so that fucking sucks. #thanksObama** And I have a sprint tri the following Sunday and would be worried about the 750m OWS (my max OWS to date being 500m), but I just don't have any spoons/bandwidth to stress over it.

#justkeepswimming #perseverance #fuckdepression #journeynotdestination

*It took me two weeks to figure out what was wrong and another week of hoping it might be temporary. This is the fourth week, and it took til today to gather spoons to make the appointment with my doctor to ask about changing meds. The first available appointment was Friday afternoon next week. And we're looking at several weeks after that to see if something new will work for me. The thought is daunting, but my anxiety is well managed at present and I lack extra spoons/bandwidth to stress over it.

**Over a week to see my GP has been new since the ACA took effect. I can walk in for acute things like strep, but I don't know whether my doc might be out of town now and I'd have to see another practitioner if I try to walk in, and I've never seen the other doctors at this practice and fear they'd tell me to wait for my doc anyway to change my prescription. It could be worse; it's a minimum 2.5 months to get an appointment with my OB/GYN since the ACA, so here's hoping I don't get a yeastie or STI outside of my pre-scheduled visits. That's a rant for another post.

A Weird Cramp

Last week I started a twice-a-week swim conditioning classes at a local pool. Thursday I was lucky enough to have a one-on-one session with the coach to work on my form since the other three students did not attend. The classes are capped at nine students, so we’re all pretty lucky to have a small class in the first place.

But a weird thing happened at class last night that has me really confused and still uncomfortable today. Near the end of practice, after doing 150 yards of front crawl sprints with short rests between each length, I got a stitch in my side and told the coach I had a cramp. I’m a slow swimmer and have never practiced sprints before, so I wasn’t surprised by the development. I mentioned it because I wouldn’t be able to continue swimming hard for the last few minutes of class.

‘A cramp? Where?’ he asked, confused that I pointed to my side, right where you get them while running too. A pool employee came over and asked if I was sure it wasn’t in my legs. No, I told him. Side cramp, pain. And they both vociferously assured me that wasn’t a cramp, couldn’t be a cramp; you could only get cramps in your legs; you don’t even use those abdominal muscles while swimming. It must be your liver or lack of oxygen due to poor fitness. Definitely not a cramp.

I didn’t want to argue with them, one of whom I know is a swimmer with many accolades to his name; I just wanted to not sprint full tilt against my classmates anymore for the last five minutes of class. So I nodded, got some water, sat out a lap, and took the kickboard to do a slow cool-down lap.

I was confused and uncomfortable because I know it is a cramp. I’m among the 70% of runners who have experienced side cramps; I just hadn’t had one while swimming laps before. It’s a diaphragm cramp caused by a combination of too shallow breaths/too little oxygen plus movement and sometimes weak abs. Swimming is a full-body workout, and my abs sure are feeling it today. I just learned that all strokes engage your abdominal muscles. I struggle with swimming because I run out of breath long before my muscles fatigue, and sprinting surely exacerbates the issue: movement + shallow breathing/insufficien oxygen.

So it makes sense that I might get a stitch in my side while swimming several hard laps. What doesn’t make sense is the complete refutation that it could even be possible. Cramp or no, the logical conclusion is that something about my form needs improvement. And the coach had been continuously telling me what I could focus on and improve in each lap.

I worked hard, I pushed myself, and I got a cramp. Why was it such a big deal?

Triathlon costs

Related to my previous post refuting the “running is the cheapest sport” myth, I started trying to calculate the costs of training for triathlons and gave up. I buy bottom-tier gear and am still out hundreds of dollars. You can see why this is a VERY white, upper-middle-class sport and why I exclaim to others that I saw one or two POC at the last race among hundreds of participants.

Things I already had:
Sneakers for bike: $25 from Payless
Socks: $20 paid with a gift card
Vibram Five Fingers for run: $50 (if on sale) to $120, replace every 6 months
Sports bra: $65 each by Enell
Runderwear: $20 per pair
Road ID (emergency ID ankle band): $20 paid with gift certificate
Hydration pack: $25 on Amazon
Sport swimsuit: $85 by Speedo
Goggles: $15 by Speedo
Swim cap: $5
Weight lifting gloves, suitable for biking: $15
Saddle (bike seat): $200 (won in a raffle)

Extra stuff I had to buy:
Bicycle: $350 (gift from family)
[A low-end road bike runs $500-700. I happened to know someone who built me a usable one from scratch.]
Bike stand: $25 (gift from family)
Bike lock: $10
Bike rack: $40 (gift from family)
Spare tubes: $7 each
Repair kit: $15
Padded bike shorts: $50 (paid with gift card)
Helmet: $19
Tri shirt: $40
Bicycle fitting: $75
Bike maintenance intro course: $30
Bike maint. advanced course: $55
Energy chews: $2-3 per training/race
Race registration fees (for shortest/sprint distance): $70-120

Training:
Pool membership (next city over): $19/mo
Swim conditioning classes: $69/mo (8 classes)
Local rec center membership: $60/year

It is VERY difficult for me to afford this sport. It’s unfortunate that fitness costs are so prohibitive to so many people. I wonder what the field would look like if more people could afford to come.

Player two has entered the game

Before I move on to my actual race report, I should tell you about someone else. I wasn’t sure whether I should share this, but it significantly affected my race. I didn’t know how I should frame it, so I’m going to take my time, watch my language, reread, and mostly try to withhold judgment.

 

A person who runs a lot and was training for—and dropped out of—a half marathon last year decided on a whim to register for the sprint triathlon with me, thinking it would be a fun challenge like the 5k Color Run she’d be doing the day before the triathlon.

 

A week and a half before the race, she asked about transporting her rented bicycle, and I offered her the loan of my trunk-mount bike rack for the race since the event was close enough to my house to walk.

 

Four days before the race, she started asking me questions about how it would work and if there were changing rooms. I explained: No, there are no changing rooms; yes, you have to complete the whole event in wet clothes; many people wear triathlon suits, but they are expensive; here, for example, I’m going to swim in my sports bra and compression shorts and then put on padded bike shorts, technical fabric t-shirt, and tennis shoes for the bike and run; well, *I* need padded shorts because *I’m* new and still get bruised from riding; yes, you really should get goggles; well, since it’s an indoor pool, we’ll jump in one at a time and swim a snake route, up one lane and back, under the rope, up the next lane and back, and so on; no, this one is 300 meters, it said on the website; hey, there are a whole lot of articles online for novice triathletes that you could check out; here is a link to the swimming technique YouTube videos that have helped me; here is a link to my 30-item race-day prep list on Google Drive; well, you know how to ride a bike, right? so I’m sure you’ll do just fine; make sure you get some practice on your bicycle rental the day before the race, but don’t go very long because you don’t want to be sore for the race; no, they won’t close down streets for us, but it’s a Sunday morning so there won’t be much traffic, and there will be police officers at most major intersections; yeah, I scouted the run trail and it’s really nice with only one hill; and no, I haven’t had a chance yet to check out the bike trail, but it’s supposed to be on some nice country and farm roads with not many hills.

 

The race organizer was hosting dozens of clinics that week at several locations for new athletes to ask questions and learn more about the race. She did not attend any. I went to the one in my town on Saturday morning the day before the race and am SO glad I did.

 

There I learned how to rack and re-rack my bike and that there are time penalties for doing it wrongly, where the transition area’s ins and outs were, where the mount/dismount line was, to stay left on the road to avoid blocking, how to navigate the pool, the drafting rules (in a word: don’t), how many other participants would be there (200-300), not to wear earphones at all, and that no one would be allowed to retrieve their things from the transition area after finishing the race until the last bicycle was in, among a dozen other pieces of information. I felt a bad at having to text notes to her non-stop during the presentation because that’s rude to the speaker and I could not otherwise have remembered everything to relay to her. I even sent pictures of the example racked bike.

 

On the day of the race, she arrived at my place five minutes early and texted “I have a situation.” I was still gathering my things but walked out to see what was up. She’d forgotten her race bag at home 45 minutes away with her bib numbers, hair bands, bandanna, hat, water, sunblock, towel, and fuel. I told her to go ahead to the event to see if she could get a duplicate bib number, and I’d grab extra gear for her.

 

I rushed to gather my last few things and then fill water bottles and collect the other things for her and stuff them in my backpack and left several minutes later than I had planned for. I’d planned to walk to the event but instead had to ride in the dark for the first time and without yet having acquired appropriate bike lights (I know), but I run that short path all the time and know it well enough. I rolled up to the event and then panicked that I might get in trouble for a safety violation of riding my bike up to the transition area when I couldn’t see the dismount line, stopped quickly, caught my foot in the toe cage, and promptly fell on the ground from a complete stop. Scary.

 

A dozen or more people saw me and called out to ask if I was okay. “I’m good!” My hands stung from hitting the pavement but hadn’t been scraped. My knee was scraped but not bleeding. I knew it would stiffen up overnight, and I’d hate life tomorrow but would get through today. I was twice as stressed as I ought to have been going into my first outdoor tri, but I told myself that getting the fall out of the way early in the day could be a good thing for my psyche since I’d been scared and anxious and fretting about falling in the days before because I’m not as comfortable on the bike as I’d like to be and suffer anyway from anxiety and several people in my family have had severe road cycling injuries and my best friend was hit from behind by a car pretty badly and the driver didn’t even stop and I am SO scared of pain if nothing else in the world—

 

I picked myself up and found my rack and began unpacking my bag. I was concerned that I hadn’t yet seen the friend who drove here ahead of me, so I paused frequently to check my phone. She called a few minutes later to ask where I was since she’d just arrived at the transition area. I walked over to meet her and found that she was able to get the bib numbers taken care of but wasn’t ready and wasn’t coming in yet, was getting help from a volunteer in adjusting her bike seat to the correct height and needed to go ride around the parking lot for a few minutes to get some practice in because apparently she hadn’t done so the day before. After a few minutes, I was able to disengage and return to setting up my things. I saw her later walk over to her assigned rack and I showed her how to rack her bike and where to put her things. I gave her the extra sunblock and water bottles, learned then that she also needed a towel and fuel, of which I had fortunately thought to pack and purchase extra and offer to her. She mentioned that she’d not eaten breakfast.

I felt a sharp pain on the left side of my chest, high near my shoulder that spread through the entire muscle under my breast. I wondered if I’d slept badly and what the hell was going on with my body. I figured that if it were a heart attack, I probably wouldn’t feel up to starting the race, and that wasn’t the case. The pain restricted my stretches and hurt like a real motherfucker. I’d brought a tennis ball to work on a knot in my back and applied it to my pec, trying to loosen the weirdly painful cramped muscle. I ended up putting more bruises on the muscle but loosening it up enough to be able to swim.

 

We finished setting up and went inside the natatorium. She asked about my swim cap and whether it was required. No, I told her, it was only a matter of personal preference. No, I don’t use earplugs either, and so she decided not to try them out for the first time on this swim. I learned that she’d not done any swimming for this event. She knew how to swim, but she’d not gone anywhere to do any swim training and didn’t believe me that it couldn’t possibly/probably wouldn’t take more than 10 minutes for us really slow swimmers to swim 300 meters.

Stay tuned! The next post will be my race report about the race itself.