Saturday, December 26, 2009
Monday, December 21, 2009
The extra walk will not kill him.
Unfortunately, my bathroom was built by a man. How do I know this? Because it is (was) carpeted. With white carpet. Women everywhere are cringing as they think about the thousand drops of make up, lotion, sparkly eye shadow powder stuff and dog pee (the stage where they mark things + white carpet = not a good outcome) that rest in a grave between carpet strands and body hair.
Oh quit your scowling. All humans shed body hair just like all humans poop.
It was about 5 weeks ago when Chris came home from work, dropped his pants (routine) and started ripping out carpet (not part of the routine). I heard the rip, tear, snap of the carpet being tugged up from the floor to reveal the most exciting treasures below:
Padding and sand.
We still cannot explain the sand. But it’s nice to know I’ve been living close to the beach for the past 5 years.
Like a little boy, he tore it out until nothing was left. And that is how it stayed. For about a week until I think he realized that something had to go on top of it. Like tile. In the meantime, I got used to walking around on plywood and discovering just how much hair I lose on a daily basis. The carpet does a good job of hiding it. The plywood did not.
I have no idea how I am not bald.
I believe we purchased three different types of tile before we found the one we liked. And then Chris set about to glue the tiles on to the floor. Rulers, grids, levels – these are unnecessary layers of precision. I’m more of an eyeball it kind of home repairer. This is why I am not allowed to do home repairs.
Meanwhile, the neighbors figured out that something of large scale installment was going on in our house. It might have been the tile cutter that was buzzing like an overactive bee every night in the garage. I remember when Doc, the crazy neighbor guy responsible for what I like to call “Christmas Pollution” hanging from the tree in front of his house, was outside one evening when he said to me that I should probably kiss my husband for laying tile.
And to think I was thinking he should probably kiss me for one day pushing his hopefully less than 9 pound child out of my you know what but wait you are right, the tile project totally trumps that.
I guess in the world of man, laying tile is pretty high up on things you can to do gain street cred with other men. Forget just painting your house. My husband speaks the language of grout. Dark grey. In my world, though, laying tile was becoming a big mess. My clothes were spread throughout two rooms, there were tiles I could step on and tiles I couldn’t step on (you try remember that in the middle of the night) and there was the fact that every time I wanted to be in my bathroom there was a man in there. Yes, it was my husband and yes, I could have used his bathroom but it is best not to set foot in the man bathroom without: scrub brush and gloves.
Four weeks later, the project is nearly done. Done to the point that I may put my clothes back into the closet and finally clean the bathroom.
As a warning: you should never let your bathroom go used but uncleaned for four weeks.
Chris just informed me that tonight the project will be totally done. Including the garage.
I forgot about the garage.
We have three cars. Before you think we live in the lap of luxury let me describe these said cars: the ghetto Honda which on a hot day of the seats baking in the sun smells like a combination of armpit and coffee. Too many sweaty workouts that ended in the car and too much coffee. The shake machine is a little sports car that cannot be driven when it’s less than 40 degrees outside. That pretty much cancels out 7 months of the year around here. And then there is the mini van which is on its way to becoming our second ghetto Honda because it met one too many tight parking spaces and tall curbs in the city.
Seriously, it was a 12-inch curb along Hubbard. Explain, oh city planner, HOW that is necessary.
Currently the shake machine is the only car living in our garage because the other half is filled with tile, trim and Chris’ ghetto table that he likes to set up in the garage and do man projects on. The tile cutter is on the ghetto table. It’s ghetto because the only thing missing from our driveway when this tile is in use would be cinder blocks.
So the other two cars live on the driveway. This is not a big deal unless you live in Chicago and unless it has been under 20 degrees lately. I got into the car the other morning and it was 12 degrees. I am convinced it was 5 in the car. Since I only drive places that are less than 10 minutes away (please do not “ride your bike” me – I have a will to survive) it barely warms up enough to stop saying out loud to myself “f*ck it’s cold, f*ck, f*ck!.
Sometimes it is the only word to accurately describe our winter situation here.
I am looking forward to the night that one of our other cars can sleep in the garage so it stays a little warmer. But it’s already 7:30 pm and I doubt that Chris will be doing trim installation now. And so I wait another night. Or week. Or month. I can’t bug him about it because then it becomes “nagging” and delays the project by at least another week.
I’ve lost more hope about tonight, though. He just turned on Man vs. Food and the challenge tonight is chicken n’ waffles. No work will be done.
A week later and the project was still in holding. The only thing left was nailing the trim to the cabinets. Doesn’t sound too complicated. But remember, my husband is the master of unnecessary levels of precision. Recall about a year ago when he installed trim on our living room wall. There was an electric laser level involved.
Need I say more.
So when I found Chris under the bathroom cabinet, in a space so small it required a grown man to form himself into the shape of a ball, holding a nail, a hammer, a brass plate and wearing knee pads – I knew this project could take him all day. I’m still not sure what the knee pads were for – unless he was expecting a fight from the hammer – or why there were about two dozen drill bits all over the bathroom counter too. It seemed pretty easy to me. Hammer + nail = pound the nail until it’s in.
Not good enough. Ended up requiring wood glue, tape and all sorts of cuss words. There is still a piece of tape holding the trim on. I’ll be damned if I’m the one to pull it off.
Just when I thought it was complete, Chris asked me where the tiny nub of wood was that was laying on the floor.
You mean the one that I found on my bedroom floor chewed to pieces when I got out of the shower the other day?
You’re going to need to ask Boss about that.
What I found funny he found…not. I guess this was a piece of wood, the last piece of wood for the trim that required an angle so unique it didn’t even register on a protractor. Made up a whole new angle. Took him over an hour to create. Unfortunately, Boss does not realize the difference between a standard 90 degree angle and one crafted at 44.3 degrees.
The other neighborman was at our house tonight. He told me that Chris was a brave man for laying the tile. Man can go to war. Man can battle against giant plate of chicken ‘n waffles. Man can wed woman. For life. But none are as brave as man who attempts to lay tile.
And no wife is as brave as she who waits for her bathroom to be done. Completely. No tape. Nub of wood nailed down.
Thursday, December 17, 2009
I looked to my husband for information because he’s a pretty fast guy and has been cycling competitively since college. If you’ve ever been to our basement, you also know that he has a bike problem. It’s not just a few bikes propped against the wall. There are entire roof racks installed on our floors with so many bikes that I have stopped asking the how, why or where.
Let’s turn to tonight’s conversation when another cycling-brand box appeared at our door.
What is that?
It’s a stem.
In that huge box there is one stem?
Well, it’s a stem that you can adjust to any degree to see which stem you really want for your bike, like if you want an 80 degree stem with a rise or a 90 degree stem.
My initial thought is why would anyone need this. But then again, that is my thought for about 99 percent of the tools and gadgets in our basement. Like the laser-level on a tripod. Or the sonic jewelry cleaner meant only for bike parts. Or how about the one time I found 18 stems on a table down there.
I consider him an authority on cycling. For no other reason than he reads about it incessantly, talks about it even when I stop listening and has serviced my bikes for years without leaving (and I’ve created some ridiculous bike problems over the years). So today I asked him to talk with me about the most important factors for getting faster in cycling.
Speed is sexy, isn’t it? Yet not many triathletes understand the science – and the art – of getting and going fast on the bike. Here’s a few tips to get your wheels going faster:
1) Get a proper fit on a bike. A lot of set ups are just "tweaks" by the user until they were comfortable. There is a moderate science behind a fit, like cleat adjustment, crank arm length, saddle position, and reach to the bars. Getting the user into a position that properly recruits the major leg muscles is important. Ideally, get the fit first. Then, choose a bike and components that matches your fit. A "good deal" on a bike one size too large is not really a smart deal and will only cost you later in pain, injury or components to try to make that bike fit you.
2) Select the right shoes. A decent pair or road shoes and pedals is far superior than the best MTB shoes and dual entry pedals. If there is one thing you don’t want to go cheap on it’s a good pair of cycling shoes. Cheap shoes can be terribly uncomfortable leading to pain or injury. The longer your race, the more important the shoe. Consider if you want a triathlon-specific shoe or a road cycling shoe. Road cycling is more adjustable and comfortable. Triathlon shoes make for speedier transitions but afford you less adjustability. And like your bike, the shoe needs to be fitted (cleat position is important for prevent injury and optimizing power).
3) Be sure the gearing is correct for you and the courses you plan to do. Do you live in the mountains and have a 55/42 paired with a 12/21 or live in the flats of Florida with a 32/50 paired with a 12/27? Consider the terrain of most of your races this season. If they are hilly – then how hilly? Will you need a compact crank? If it’s a flat course, are you willing to sacrifice speed for range in gears? Learn how to count your gears and what they mean. Then, ask your coach or local bike shop if you have the proper gears for your season.
4) Make sure the bike works properly and take care of it. Maintaining your bike is like maintaining your car. You would never drive a year without an oil change. Your bike should be serviced before the start of your training and prior to racing season. Check your cables, chain, tubes, spokes and bolts. For all the time and money you put into traveling to a race and training for it, it’s a waste to show up on race day with a bike that is 3 miles away from something malfunctioning (and could have been easily fixed in a routine tune-up).
5) Upgrade where it counts. A "cheap" aluminum frame with aero wheels is better than an expensive carbon frame with training wheels. An aero helmet gets more performance gain than a carbon water bottle cage. And remember, all the upgrades in the world will not replace the cheapest and most basic way to get faster: do the right training at the right time.
6) Learn proper nutrition, especially hydration. Cycling workouts are usually 1-hour at the minimum, extending up to 8 hours if you are training for Ironman. Even at the shortest distance, it's still an endurance event. The longer you can stay at optimum performance during a training session, the more effective that workout will be. Proper nutrition and hydration during a cycling workout are necessary for optimum performance.
7) Going fast on the bike really hurts. Running fast taxes your cardiovascular system. Swimming fast is about the swim stroke. Cycling is just pure burning in the legs and pushing past your normal threshold for pain and staying there. Once you can get over the idea of working in a lactic acid pool of pain is normal, that's where progress begins.
8) You can't learn to go fast without training fast. Your training should include some intensity throughout the year. Riding slow is like running slow – it keeps you slow. And, learn to utilize the conditions to become faster. Slogging into a headwind and coasting back in the tailwind section really limits the amount of intensity you can achieve. At higher speeds such as in a tailwind or draft, there is much more room to find that line between "pushing it" and "too much".
9) Cycling involves a lot of muscular endurance. Long rides are important to build strength and form. Nothing improves your endurance – both mentally and physically – better than sitting on your trainer and turning those pedals relentlessly – no coasting – for a few hours. There is a fine line between long and too long. Doing century rides with your friends just to rack up miles is not effective training (unless you are doing an Ironman – and only done during the IM specific build phase).
10) Keep your easy rides easy. Even easier. Pushing the pace on every ride is as ineffective as pushing the pace on every run. You end up training in that dead zone where you never recover enough to go into your quality ride with the freshness required to truly go hard and breakthrough. Turn off your computer or power meter for the easy rides and focus on low effort and pedal stroke efficiency instead.
11) If you splurge on one item in triathlon, make it a power meter. Many athletes have no idea how to go hard enough or how to go easy enough until they see their watts. A watt never lies. From a power file you can see who is drafting, who is slacking, who is grinding and who is nailing it. Power meters cost money – yes – and it pays to buy the ones that are costly. Power Tap and SRM are the most reliable and durable out there. The pay off, however, comes from the training and racing benefits. Racing with a Power Tap is the key to a better bike, better run and in turn a better race. Used properly, it eliminates room for pacing errors on the bike that tend to kill your run.
12) Body composition counts. Yes, a bigger cyclist produces more power but that same bigger cyclist loses more power when fighting inertia and gravity during hill climbs and accelerations. In cycling all that matters is power to weight ratio. The higher than ratio, the better cyclist you are. You improve that ratio by increasing your power or dropping weight. How much would it cost you in equipment to remove one pound from your bike? Let’s say you add race wheels – you’re looking at up to 1K for a decent set. Now, what if you just lost that one pound of body weight – or more? How much would you save in money and gain in speed?
13) Learn how to pedal a bike. Watch any novice (or slower) cyclist and you will see them riding with their cadence under 85 rpms. Why? It’s a very easy, lazy way to ride. It does not take much cardiovascular fitness to turn the pedals slowly. However, it does take a lot of force and muscle recruitment. As you engage more muscle fibers to push those pedals, you start to fatigue your legs for the run that follows the bike. Also, you burn calories at a slower rate which if not accounted for can leave you with GI problems in your race. Often athletes will complain that raising their cadence over 90 rpms brings their heart rate up – BINGO! When you can master it without the heart rate going up you have gained fitness. Then, the key is to hold that higher cadence in a bigger and bigger gear. Here’s another test: watch what your power does when you start spinning over 100 rpms. The stronger cyclists will see improvements in their power the faster they spin those pedals. Weaker cyclists tend to see their power drop when they get over 100 rpms.
14) Save the big cookie for important things. This is a lesson I learned on Ragbrai. You don’t go into the big cookie unless you mean something serious. That said, the small ring is an effective place to ride for warm ups, cool downs, recovery intervals or hills. Again, it helps you to truly go easy and helps you to work on your pedaling efficiency. Big cookie means business.
15) Race and ride within your limits. How many big dudes go out there on race day ready to drop the hammer then walk the run? What you do in training is what you will do in the race. If you’ve never held 20 mph for 3 hours on a training day chances are you will not do it in racing. So don’t set out to do that and blow your race. Learn the art of pacing – whether with a power meter, heart rate monitor, cadence or speed. There are so many ways to monitor yourself in cycling that there really is no excuse for poor performance other than the little voice in your head that talked you into overriding.
All this talk about biking makes me want to hop on my trainer right now and pedal nowhere. But at least I'm riding! And, I like it. The more you like something, the more you will get faster because you enjoy doing it and want to do it better.
That also costs nothing.
Friday, December 11, 2009
I have been to the top (and bottom) of the sport. Seen it from nearly 360 degrees. I often think back to what made me a successful athlete because when my athletes tell me they want to do _______(top level goal), I have to honestly tell them “this is what it takes.” I thought about some of my athletes who are highly successful with their goals and some of my friends who have reached that level too. While there are many ways to achieve success, there are commonalities in the habits of successful athletes. Here are 20 things you can do to be a better athlete:
1. Learn how to eat. Garbage in = garbage out. Learn how to integrate more real food into your diet. Resist the urge to eat coffee as a meal, to skip meals, to eat processed foods, and to consider a "bar" a meal. Real food gives you real energy. Yes, it costs more but most worthwhile things in life are costly.
2. Follow the plan. If you are going to hire a coach to help you, put your trust in them and commit to following the plan. Not the parts of the plan that you like most. Not adding things you think you need to do. Follow it because unless you do, there is no guarantee it will deliver you to your goal.
3. Less talking, more doing. We are great planners and thinkers. Very few are great doers. On race day nothing else matters but the work you did. The 10 minute email you composed explaining to your coach why you couldn’t do the workout, there goes 10 minutes you could have been working out instead.
4. If it sounds like something you want to do, it’s probably not something you need to do. Not my words, but great words nonetheless. We want to do the things that sound sexy, fast and hard. Right now you need to be doing less of that and more of the ho-hum, easy, technical work. Remember, performance improvement is quite boring at times.
5. Be honest with yourself. Stop thinking in terms of who you used to be or who you think you should be. Face yourself as you are, accept it and commit to working from there. The longer you put this off, the more you delay your progress.
6. Learn to recover. Know that in training recovery is all that matters. Without it, you do not gain fitness. Spend one week paying extra attention to the space between the workouts to see the benefits of recovery. Learn how to eat right after a workout, get more sleep and do the little things that add up to big changes.
7. Teach yourself how to swim, bike or run all over again. Choose your weakness and then pretend like you’ve never done it before. Meet up with your coach or an instructor to learn it from the starting point. Maybe swimming is your struggle. Forget what you know and teach yourself how to swim again.
8. If you have an eating disorder, first admit it then get the professional help to overcome it. There is nothing magical your coach will say or do to fix the problem. It is also not fair to expect your coach to address your pathology – and that is what it is. Accept that and commit this year to getting help for it. Until you do, nothing will change.
9. Leave the analyzing to your coach. For one week, don’t look at your Garmin or your power files. Download them for your coach to analyze and wait for them to get back to you. How many times do I hear someone telling me the workout sucked when they actually had a breakthrough! We overanalyze ourselves to the point of losing sight of the little gains we are making.
10. The 2010 season begins now. Not in January, not when the weather is good. If you think that the girls/guys going to Clearwater/Kona/_______(where you want to go) are skipping workouts because the weather isn’t good, they didn’t feel like it, it doesn’t matter this time of year anyways….you are wrong.
11. Put your money where your mouth is. It’s one thing to set big goals, it’s another to buck up and do the work to get there. First, set realistic goals. You will not magically drop 1 minute from your 5K time next year. Second, do the work. If you tell your coach you want to achieve something, they are putting together a plan to help you get there. If you don’t do the work, you don’t want to get there. Simple as that.
12. Worry less about your weight and more about your body composition. As you get more into the sport, the composition of your body changes. Weight may go up though your body may be getting smaller. Learn to let go of the scale numbers and focus on what counts instead. From what I’ve seen, women obsess about the scale number, restrict food to get to their magical number when actually their body is leaner than ever (and then they ruin their performance by restricting food).
13. Let’s talk about Kona. If you want to go, and plan to qualify at a 70.3, ask yourself this: can you go there and honestly win that race? If you are in the 18 – 44 age group groups, that is nearly what it takes. If you want to go and plan to qualify at a full Ironman, look at the qualifiers from last year, view their times and ask yourself can I honestly produce that time? Do you get close to those times in training? Same goes for Clearwater. If you want to go, look at the results from your AG and ask yourself if you could honestly get into the top 5. If not, take it out of your vocabulary for this year.
14. Write your goals down and look at them every day. Face them, make them real. Write down one thing you can do to work toward them every day. Write down one thing you will sacrifice each week to get there. When you look back, you will have a list of everything you have done and everything you have sacrificed to get there.
15. Just fucking swim. Trust me, someone had to tell me that once too. If you want to get better at something you have to do it. Not think about it, read about it, talk about it or whine about it. DO IT. Do something 3 times a week for maintenance, 4 times a week for progress and 5 times a week for quicker progress.
16. Less weight lifting, more body strength. The funny thing about triathletes is that they can run a 4 hour marathon or do lat pull downs with a weighted bar but ask them to do 1 minute of single-legged squats and they poop out after 30 seconds. Remember that endurance sport is all about carrying your body weight over time. The stronger you are at carrying your body weight, the faster you go, the less injury you will sustain.
17. As you select your race plans, plan for less racing and more recovery. Keep in mind that for every half Ironman you do, you sustain a 3-week period where you do not gain fitness (1 week taper, 1 week race, 1 week recovery). That period goes up to 6 – 8 weeks for Ironman. Plan your races accordingly. If you include too many races, you enter too many weeks of race/recovery in which you cannot gain any fitness. Don’t stagnate through a year, grow.
18. Use equipment that makes sense for you. Just because so and so uses that bike or that shoe supposedly does this thing doesn’t mean it is right for your biomechanics. Choose products for logical reasons, not marketing reasons. Remember there is no magic shoe (unless you are off to see the wizard) and no magic wheel (but there may be a magic bus).
19. Work on your mind this year. Athletes will train their body but the best races comes from the combination of body and mind. Train your mind. We have over 50,000 thoughts that roll through our heads each daily. Learn to shape those thoughts to the outcome you desire. Your training plan should include a mental preparation component.
20. Consistency. Trust that no amount of talk, smarts, equipment, wishing, hoping or praying will replace consistency. That means doing the work day to day. I leave this as the last one because after over 10 years of competing and 3 years of guiding athletes towards goals, the one thing I have found that you cannot replace is consistency (which is a result of doing all of the things mentioned above). When you are constantly skipping workouts you are not consistent. When you are sick or injured because you don’t recover well or eat crap, you are not consistent. If you do anything this next year, learn to be more consistent and everything else will all into place.
Good luck in your 2010 season!
Monday, December 07, 2009
And it did not go well.
I could only laugh because I could relate. And I thought it might be interesting to write about the ups and downs of training (and racing) with a spouse because I know there are many out there who make it work – or try to make it work. Any relationship is a delicate balance of saying the right thing at the right time, choosing your battles, sometimes biting your tongue to keep things calm. But when you have two supercharged people who are highly competitive and driven athletes – is “calm” even possible? Especially when your outlet for releasing the competitiveness (training) is something you do together. Can you train with your spouse without competing with them? Is it possible? Is it advisable?
Imagine you could do everything you love to do with the person you love. Swims, bike rides, runs, races. When it comes to sport there is nothing that is off limits. A sporty vacation? Why not. Your spouse is right there with you. A trip that includes a race? Totally acceptable. Spending a good chunk of your change on a new bike, wheels, goggles? No permission necessary. Talking about training, racing and chafing? Appropriate dinner conversation. Cleaning your plate – and then trying to clean theirs? Not uncommon.
In other words, you don’t have to make any excuses, special requests or changes for yourself. You can do as you please because you are with a person who gets it and supports you. In fact, they want to do all of this with you and more! Together you are like junkies tapping into a new triathlon vein every month. And you’re convinced when you run out of veins, you can just go to TriSports.com and buy a new one.
We love to train and we love to race. But it’s not always easy together. There have been countless strains, arguments and fits along the way. Pull buoys have been thrown, hell once an entire bicycle was thrown (not Chris’ finest idea considering we were about 15 miles from home). Accusations have been made.
So that was your zone 2, eh?
So you can run that fast in zone 2.
THAT pace while staying in zone 2, really?
You get the point.
Competition and love do not mix. Because if you want to stay in love you cannot compete with the person you love. You cannot even give the illusion that you are competing with them. It will not go over well. I learned that the hard way. Especially when you are dealing with a man. The man does not like to be beat by the woman. No further detail is necessary (but shall be given for journalistic purposes).
Flashback to Kona 2007. I remember running along at mile 19 when Ruben (a friend from Chicago) was all of a sudden standing there (though he was in the race – I’m not sure how that happened), clapping while shouting Chris is less than a mile ahead, you can catch him!
And for a moment I entertained the thought. I was feeling good. Sure, I could pick up the pace. But then I thought about his family watching. And all of his friends back home. And I realized that if I had any visions of staying married for the long-term, I best keep my pace right here. And not chase after him. Because if I know one thing about a man and his friends, I know that if the wife passes said man at a world championship, he will hear about it from them for the rest of his life.
We finished less than 8 minutes apart.
So you make sacrifices. You change your approach and you otherwise know there are things you can do and things you should do. If you want to stay married.
Chris and I do not run together. We’ve tried. Oh, we’ve tried so hard. But I’ve learned it’s better to just run apart. He warms up slow, really really really slow. I warm up sorta slow. I think he’s a path hog. Inevitably I end up running off the side of the path while he’s got 6-feet of middle path to himself. He hates the sound of my turnover. He doesn’t like me chasing him. He doesn’t like me pulling ahead. He thinks the GPS lies. There are so many warning signs and sirens sounding DO NOT RUN TOGETHER (!!!) that I finally just stopped telling him when I had to run so we would just run by ourselves.
What he doesn’t know, will not hurt him.
For whatever reason, we did run together a few months ago. It was 5 times up a 6 minute hill (yes, they do exist around here!). If I can do anything, I can beat Chris up a hill. He will still try to tell me otherwise and I guarantee he will chime in on the blog comments and tell me IT’S ON, PIPSQUEAK, IT’S ON, but I tell him all the time when it comes to long runs and hills I have two things working for me:
Superior nutrition plan and freakishly high power to weight ratio
Anyways we were running up the hill, stride for stride, until the last one. So far the run was evenly paced so of course I noticed when the pace upped about half way up the hill. Relentlessly, I would not give up. I matched his pace. He picked it up more. Nothing like an uphill sprint. We neared the top and I noticed that he slowed down. A weakness was sensed. I took this as my opportunity to bolt at full tilt speed while making overexaggerated panting noises and turning back to look at him like you want a piece of me the whole time. A delayed reaction but he finally realizes what I’m doing and chases after me laughing. At the top, we obviously have found ourselves hilarious when another couple walks by and says “it’s not enough that you ran up that hill, you had to race too?”
Yes, yes we did.
You see, that is acceptable competition because it was ridiculous and fun-loving. But I’ll tell you where competition really doesn’t work. In the pool. Maybe it’s because we are both know the pool is our weakness and because it’s so fickle. Some days you go and you’re whipping out top speed 100s at your best pace. Other days you’re giving it just as much and you’re 10 seconds per 100 off pace. Why? Who knows. That’s just how swimming is.
Nevermind that we met in the pool. Chris wooed me in a chlorinated bath kept at a boiling warm 102 degrees (he was either try to woo me or cook me). Soon after getting together the pool quickly turned into a woo-less place of that can’t be your warm up pace, of get out of my draft, of stop watching me. When I ask Chris about this today, he admits something that surprises me:
It wasn’t you, it was me.
I always wondered how can I be 4 times your size but not swim as fast as you.
Imagine Tugboat Tom. He’s like 40 times my size and sometimes doesn’t swim as fast as me.
You’re too competitive in the pool.
Guilty. But isn’t that the point? Isn’t that why we swim with other people? I’ve never understood the whole training as socializing. When I show up to a workout, I show up to throwdown, to get into that zone of discomfort - especially in the pool. I do not show up to make friends and socialize. Tea time and recovery rides are for socializing. Not training.
My favorite thing to secretly drive Chris nuts in the pool do is to race him without telling him. That’s because he pushes me. He’s just that much faster than me now that I have to work to stick with him. He’s like the little Metal Man on the Computrainer who’s always one pedal stroke ahead of you no matter how hard you work. The best time to race Chris is when I’m using paddles and pull buoy. I can really throwdown. Especially on something like a 400. And when I reach the wall first I pretend like I didn’t realize I was there first or didn’t realize that I beat him.
Were you racing me?
Sitting at dinner this evening, I asked Chris his favorite memory of us racing.
Lifetime Fitness Triathlon
I recall one of several trips to Lifetime Fitness in Minneapolis. We were up there one year with Liz Attig (now Ott) and a wee bit tipsy when we walked into Lund’s market and saw a…short cart. Like they forgot to build half the cart, painted it fancy nancy green. Seeing the short cart for the first time when drunk is the quickest way to find yourself racing the short cart around the store and filling it up with post-race recovery snacks like….cookies. I remember another time up there when Eric Ott joined his pre-wife and us for Lifetime Fitness and we finished up the weekend with a trip to MOA to ride the log ride. Again, tipsy. Notice all of these memories involve drinking and not racing. There were times when priorities were more about good times than fast times.
Chris, however, recalls a Lifetime Fitness that I clearly forgot.
Our waves were 11 minutes apart. I remember coming up on you in the last ½ mile and thinking how nice it would be to have a Kodak moment of us crossing the finish line together.
But then you bolted to a full on sprint with 100 meters to go and left me behind.
Was it not a race?
Do you remember the time before the World’s Qualifier when we bought a bundt cake and nearly ate the entire thing?
I remember that. And the stomachache that followed. Note to self that a chocolate bundt cake is not a good pre-race snack. And neither of us qualified for worlds.
Nationals in Shreveport.
Oh yes, I remember that.
Remember that evening? We were daring everyone to take shots of TriGenix. Then we ended up running through some fountain racing Liz and Eric Ott, Starky and a then unknown TJ Tollakson.
There has to be 100 more memories just like that. And for all the ups and downs, the memories of training and racing with Chris are mostly up and good. And makes me wish for many miles, yards and watts ahead.
Tonight we swam together. I found some evil workout that consisted of mostly IM.
200 warm up
4 x 100 as 25 kick, 25 drill, 25 kick, 25 drill in IM order
4 x 100 pull w/paddles
3 x 50 fly
4 x 100 IM
3 x 50 back
4 x 100 IM
3 x 50 breast
4 x 100 IM
3 x 50 free
4 x 100 IM
I made Chris lead. I used fins at times when he went without. I sometimes swam free instead of fly. I sat so close in his draft that I could see the bottom of his wrinkly feet. And at 2650 yards into it, with one more set to go he said:
And whereas in the past I would have egged him on to quit being such a nancy about the whole thing and nut up to finish the set, I told him to do 3 x 50 more and call it done. Because if I’ve learned anything in the past 10 years, it is when to push, when to pull, when to buck up, shut up or just plain keep the yapper shut all together. When the man has led the entire set of IM it is not time to tell him to nut up.
Unless you want see a fin fly across the pool. Or worse yet, be forced to lead the set yourself.
Love. Still going strong – thank you.
And yes, for the record, that was my zone 2 pace.
Thursday, December 03, 2009
(enter sound of crickets)
Usually something jumps out at me. Something big, something worth the sacrifice. A driving force that pulls me through a season, keeps me honest and makes me want to hurt. The big race, the peak race, the one that you’ll give up sugar for two weeks, go to bed early, stop drinking wine. That race.
But right now, I cannot think of one.
Immediately I started looking around. Gathering dates, ideas, asking friends. There was a lot of chatter. Do an Ironman, do Vineman, Rev 3, 2011 long course worlds, go local, go far, do a series, try to qualify. The first thing that struck me is that we have a lot of options in our sport. The second thing that struck me was…nothing. None of those sound good to me.
I immediately cancelled out Ironman. No thanks. Been to Kona twice, did it well and feel no need to revisit that. I also immediately cancelled out 70.3s. I’ve done many of them and some are good. But unless I plan to try to qualify for Clearwater (answer: no) there is no need to pay over $275 to race on a course with up to 3000 other athletes. Think about that: 3000 athletes. Yikes. I also cancelled major travel. Travel is fine for one race or so. But it’s different now. Baggage fees, oversized fees, hotels, different time zones. Simply put, travel is very draining on the wallet and the body.
The problem is that I’ve been in the sport for over 10 years. In terms of triathlon, I am a dinosaur (if that's the case, then Jennifer is an artifact). Not only that but I’ve done things. Many things. Everything from sprint to Ironman, regional/national/world championships. Chances are I’ve been there, I’ve done it. Next.
I thought some more about it and what I realized is that I miss the good old days. The little races with grassroots organization that were just about the race. Not about the logo, not about the finisher’s gear, not about the tattoo, not about changing the swim venue because it’s windy, not about one thousand signs marking the course. Not about making it easy. It was truly an endurance event with all of the good, bad and ugly, uncensored. Because the uncensored parts were the best parts. Overcoming them is what made racing….racing.
But triathlon has gotten watered down. It’s a kinder, gentler sport now. Maybe it’s because our society is so litigious. Maybe it’s because it’s a sport that is very accessible yet it’s challenging. It’s one thing to sign up for a marathon but imagine the glory of doing an Ironman. It’s like a frontier of challenge that awaits the ordinary man proving he can conquer just about anything.
Except weather. But wait, yes he can. He can just change the course because the water is too choppy.
Not just that but it’s become diluted. Years ago, everyone did nationals. It was the race, the only big race that you aspired to. There were regional championships and special qualifiers. And only the best showed up. Nobody focused on half Ironmans. Everyone did Olympic distance. The point was to race often and race well. Long course wasn’t where it’s at. That said, you saw the same people year after year because they stayed healthy enough to race. Nowadays, I see athletes disappearing after two years. Too much long course, too much injury or maybe that is just how it seems.
Back then, Kona wasn’t even in the vocabulary of most people. Remember how you used to get to Kona years ago? Around here, you had to win Mrs. T’s (which is now the Chicago Triathlon). That’s right, you had to win an Olympic distance race that took place SIX WEEKS before the big event! Looking back on it, it was one of those what were they thinking situations. But sure enough I know a girl who indeed won Mrs. T’s, took the slot to Kona and then learned that 6 weeks of Ironman training really was no way to prepare for the day.
When racing was really racing, that is what I miss. When I first started racing I hit the local scene in the Great Lakes area. The competition was tough because they all stayed around here to compete. The national scene was not as big as it is today. Everyone did the same races. There was Galena, Tri Shark, Three Rivers, Elkhart Lake, Muncie, Ironhorse, Danskin, Seahorse. Your season ended in September because that’s when the races ended in the midwest. Nobody traveled. And then you would focus on running. It made sense and helped keep you healthy.
I keep thinking back to some of my favorites.
(cue sound of bad Barbra Streisand: Memories...light the corner of my time trial bike...)
Enter the Lake Macatawa Triathlon held in Holland, Michigan. I remember I signed up race morning and transition area was a parking lot. You threw your bike into a parking space. And then you headed to the lake which was actually the color of rust. There were dead fish floating along the shore and you could walk about 150 yards out to the first bouy. Of course I did! I could barely swim back then. Still can’t. No one complained. No one wrote a letter to the race director. No one yapped about it on an online forum. The swim was not cancelled. I ended up placing 4th overall winning $200 and a pair of wooden shoes. The overall winner? Laura Sopheia at a young 46 years old. She’s still smoking fast at age 55 today.
Back when race maps would say things like “wicked downhill” as a warning to watch your ass. Or when water quality so questionable that you might need a prescription to get rid of the crazy scratch you got from swimming through a pond full of goose crap for 1.5K (true, happened to Chris in Ohio). Or when there were no volunteers telling you where you go. You had to figure out by yourself. And if you got lost, you didn’t blame the race director or some volunteer. You just turned around and found your way back, drove home and raced again the following weekend.
Back then racing was raw. It was real. It was not catered, watered down or safe. It was at times just plain crazy. There was no bigger picture. No bragging rights for crossing a line with a line with a noisy hubbub. You crossed the line. You finished the race. You stuck around to eat bananas and pick up your award. If you did TriShark you got a wooden shark. If you did Pigman you got a golden pig. Sometimes you just got the race experience. And that was enough.
Timing chips? Maybe it was a guy named Chip holding a stop watch who would actually pull that detachable tag off your race number and feed it on to a string that marked your place. Your placement was in the hands of a piece of twine and a tiny tag covered in your own sweat. Could you imagine!? Maybe you got splits. Maybe not. You never cared any way. You just raced.
At some point, though, it turned. Things always do. You got a little too caught up in competition. Damn Type A personality. Must achieve must achieve must achieve. Got to be bigger, better. All of a sudden you found yourself doing 6 half Ironmans in one year that required extensive traveling. It became less fun. It was less about pure racing and more about gathering – money, awards, experience. You lost the point of it all.
And the point is – you love to race because it feels good and it’s fun.
The other day Chris was saying that he has forgotten how to race. This is so true of athletes that spend a few years focusing on long course triathlons. Unless you are the top of the top, you cannot race an Ironman or even a half Ironman. You survive. Even the top age groupers survive, they just survive faster than everyone else. You lose the ability to go head to head, to get a fire under your ass and haul ass to the finish line. Top age groupers can do it at the half distance but even then it’s so much about pacing and nutrition. Our sport has become so saturated with long course that it’s becoming more about completing than competing.
I think all of this means I am getting old. And a little ornery at times. But mostly I am cupcakes, sunshine and lemonade. Like all girls. Anyways, Jennifer and I often joke about how we are like to two old Muppets sitting in the balcony scoffing at the scene below. It's not that the scene is bad, it's just that we remember it from a different time. And maybe all memories are sweeter when you are younger and more innocent.
In my quest to put together a race schedule, I started looking around at the local scene. I want to race often and race hard. I have been all over the country racing the big races against the big names. I want to be home. I just want to race my race without worrying about putting together my bike, adjusting to a time zone, attending mandatory pre-athlete meetings and just want to start the race when the race director shouts the two most exciting letters in our language...
I don’t know about you but I just got the urge to race my dog to the top of the stairs.
Tuesday, December 01, 2009
Seasons change, the weather cools off but still a hot topic with athletes is running. Everyone wants to improve their run. There is something sexy, powerful and sleek about finishing a triathlon strong. No one wants to start their race with a bang and fizzle (poor swimmers!). Or, rock a fast bike split then shuffle the run (poor cyclists!). The run is where it’s at. If you can do all that – swim, bike and still run, you are something very special in triathlon.
So what is the secret? How do you improve your run? Is it a winter marathon? Wearing a Garmin? Biking with a power meter? Plyometrics? Losing weight? Let’s take a look...
Any discussion of how to improve running has to start with the basics – body composition. Running is a sport that requires moving your own body weight and absorbing the impact. How much impact? A runner comes down with 3.5 times their body weight in each step. Consequently, no fancy shoe, no magic training, no amount of marathoning will drop more time than dropping body fat. Extra weight increases the energy cost of running. Those who carry less body fat can run more, reduce their risk of injury and therefore make quicker progress from the frequency and consistency of training. For every pound you lose, you drop about 1 percent from your time. Let’s say you run a 53:45 for the 10K. Lose 1 pound and 32 seconds disappear no work necessary. There is a fine line, however, between lean and too lean. When body fat drops below approximately 5 - 7 percent for men and 12 - 14 percent for women, the immune system becomes impaired. When you are sick more often, you cannot train consistently. And without consistency you do not make progress. If you are looking to lose weight, track your body fat and not weight on the scale. Weight fluctuates often due to muscle mass, hydration and hormones. Tracking body fat is more appropriate.
Varied Races & Paces
Marathons, to triathletes, make sense. More is more. Right? No. Marathoning tends to cause the opposite reaction of what you are seeking. Not only do you risk injury with a more intensive run schedule but you lose the time to focus on the precursors to better running: the swim and bike. Remember, you can be the best runner in the world but if you cannot swim and bike efficiently, your strength becomes lost in miles of weakness before the run. Not only that but in the course of marathon training you become good at locking in that one steady pace. In turn, you become a very monotone runner. When you spend a few months locking in one pace, you lose the ability to switch gears. The best runners have many different gears; easy, steady, tempo, fartlek, threshold, all out. Monotone runners have one pace where they might deviate 30 seconds from on both ends. Therefore, if you want to become a better runner, include several shorter races of varied distances 5Ks, 8Ks and 10Ks into your plan. Skip the half and full marathons, for now.
Run economy is the measure of how far a person can run using a given amount of energy. More economical runners can run at a given speed with less oxygen consumed. More economical runners will be faster runners. How do you improve your run economy? (1) High-Intensity Interval Training (short pops to promote neuromuscular adaptation), (2) Hill Training (for power & form), (3) Strength Training (getting strong helps you to hold form when fatigued), (4) Explosive training (plyometrics and power moves allow you to develop more force in your stride), (5) Periodized training (log in the right miles, the right work at the right time). Again, you can see the advantage of varying your training and performing work specific to improving run form, strength and power. Doing this work the right amount and at the right time is where most athletes struggle. There is where a coach or any educated resource can help.
If you showed me the HR graph of a good runner and a not so good runner, you would see this: the good runner would warm up at a pace about 1 to 2 minutes slower per mile than their peak pace for that workout whereas the not so good runner would start out at the peak pace or slightly faster and then hold it. In running, the warm up is everything. Even in a race coming off the bike you have a warm up time. In a sprint it might be the first ½ mile, in Olympic the first 1 to 2 miles, in a half IM you might take the first 3 miles and in an Ironman you are looking at the first 6 to 8 miles at an easier than your goal pace. Pacing allows your body to ease into the workload. Studies have shown that negative splitting a workout or race is a much faster strategy than going out at the same pace or going out fast to only fizzle. Practice negative splitting all workouts – even just a little, even in the easy runs. Keep in mind that learning how to run well in a triathlon also requires pacing well on the swim and the bike. If you overswim or overbike, you will be so fatigued by the time you get to the run that your good run will not have a chance to come out.
Running efficiency is a measure of how effective your form is with each step. In other words, how much of your energy is being directed to actually running instead of being consumed by errors in your form. Just like with swimming, if you have inefficiencies in your form, the faster you go, the more they add up and cost you. If you have ever found that your “fast” 50 is the same speed as your “easy” 50 in swimming, then you have experienced the cost of inefficiency. Running is very similar. Inefficiencies add up, quick. There are several key factors to improving run form; foot strike, stride rate, stride length, arm carry. Do a quick internet search of each term to see the optimal form. Remember, improvements in form lead to more energy being directed to moving forward with the least energy cost. For a great video on what efficient run form looks like, go to the “5:45” mark of this video:
How do you improve your form? Like swimming or biking, drills, practice and mindfulness. Start by taping yourself in your current run form. Consult with a coach on what needs work. Identify drills to improve your weaknesses, practice and then tape again. This constant loop of practice and feedback is critical for making progress.
Consistency in Training
One of the most important factors in mastering any skill is frequency. If you want to get good at something, you have to practice it and practice it often. That said, it’s better to run 4 times a week at 30 minutes then 2 times a week at 1 hour. Especially at this time of year, your time is better invested in focusing on shorter sessions that emphasize drills and form rather than “logging in the miles”. Shorter runs allow for more neuromuscular adaptation. You can integrate change in shorter sessions without losing your good form due to fatigue. Beyond that, vary your training, routes and paces to get the most out of your running. Not only that, but run more often off the bike. Include a few short runs (ie.,10 minutes) off the bike that focus on holding your form – and nothing else. Above all, be consistent. Consistency is one of the single most important factors in making training progress. You are consistent when you are committed and healthy. Work on your run form and follow smart training to stay healthy and consistent.
Become a Better Biker
Simply put, to run better, bike better. The longer the race, the more important this becomes. The easiest way to bike better? Use a power meter. Trust me, it works. Not to make you magically fast but to properly pace yourself out there and ride within your limits. Overbiking gives you that slick bike split but then…raise your hand if you’ve ever walked part of the run. Other than pacing and riding realistically, bike progress takes time. It takes time (and practice!) to develop the skill, power, muscular endurance and strength required to bike well. First, focus on the skill of riding. Learn how to pedal a bike properly and hold over 85 rpms. Then, develop the strength to pedal strong without getting fatigued (hip flexors, glutes, core). Power development comes after all of that (and is a result of all of that!). In addition to riding stronger (and better), you also need to fuel smart on the bike. Errors in hydration or fueling in the bike (or even before) will come out on the run. It all adds up – so, have a plan, practice it and execute that plan on race day. Don’t just be a better biker, be a smarter biker to run well.
To achieve faster running in triathlon, recognize that it is more complex than just going out and running more. Consider the smaller things that make up for bigger gains – body composition, technique, pacing, bike ability, address those, then structure your training appropriately. Here's to many fast miles in 2010!
Saturday, November 28, 2009
And the year that the Czech’s joined us, it was a lot of booze, like something straight out of the Von Trapp family does Vegas (very drunk) with Czechoslovakian subtitles.
Thanksgiving Eve, Chris and I spent 50 minutes in the pool. We called it an off season special: floating with foam noodles. When I realized that Chris was sitting on two foam noodles and clutching two more I realized we had been in the 90-degree therapy pool for a wee bit too long. How about 50 minutes of floating? That counts as a workout, right? And believe me, we worked out. In fact, we can turn anything into a race. Sculling across the pool while seated on foam noodle. How fast can you pull the other person across the pool by legs only. Somewhere between these anaerobic efforts we managed to talk a little Thanksgiving. To get ready for the day ahead.
Prepare to arrive at 4 pm and eat dinner by 7pm.
You call it starvation, they call it strategy. It is family tradition that you literally starve the guest so they eat so much food there are no leftovers. Except, except I may add, the pie. Because who in their right mind wants to eat pie at 9 pm? No one. So that leaves about 3 pies mostly in tact for leftovers.
And it is holiday fact that you can eat pie for breakfast. Or in the case of my husband you can consume an 18-inch pumpkin pie within 3 days by eating a slice for all 3 meals.
Next we went through who was responsible for what food-wise. Cranberries? Chris. Sweet potatoes? Megan. Deviled eggs? Meredith (I don’t eat them but I hear her eggs are to die for – read into that what you’d like). Stuffing? Tom. Turkey? Tom but we are keeping a close eye on him. Stuffed mushrooms? Janet. Canned cranberries? Denise. Macaroni salad?
Yes, my grandma made a big bowl of macaroni salad.
Turns out that the Chinese grandma got her American holidays a little mixed up. And thus we have something from the picnic food category rather than something from the bountiful feast category. Macaroni salad, a staple of Fourth of July, is making a guest appearance at Thanksgiving this year.
And I will pull my seat up to the front row when someone tells her she got her holidays wrong.
Boss is getting a head start this year. Earlier Chris went over to move some furniture around and brought Boss along. When it was time to leave, Boss chose to stay. He’s been tapering for this event all day. Didn’t get up more than twice. He could sense the big day was coming and probably also heard rumors from the other dogs that the seasonal menu for Thanksgiving includes turkey, kibble, pumpkin and broccoli.
And if he sticks around until Friday my guess is that it will also contain macaroni salad.
Chris tells me he is responsible for corn pudding. He actually makes a mean corn pudding. I don’t usually eat corn (what is it? It’s not a vegetable, it’s not a dessert so what is it and why should I eat it?) and the word pudding frightens me but this corn pudding is actually quite good. I was looking forward to eating it until I got home and read the ingredients on the Jiffy Corn Muffin Mix box. And noticed that not one but TWO of the ingredients contained the word: LARD.
Exactly what is hydrogenated lard….?
But Thanksgiving isn't just all about food and lard. It's about running. And, drinking. And if you're crazy enough, combining the two. I’ve been getting some calls, emails and other threats about Turkey Trots. It was bad enough that I got called out to the Beer Mile and had to pull a DNS for a reason not specified at this time. When The Bus called to tell me that he was ready to race me 3.1 miles on Thanksgiving I told him he wins by default. I’m not turkey trotting. The other day someone asked if I was doing the Wild Turkey Trot – that’s drink a beer, run a mile, repeat 4x. No, not this year.
This time of year – Thanksgiving, Turkey Trots – reminds me of my beginning in the sport. I might not be turkey trotting this year but 11 years ago I did and that’s where it all started.
I was living in Naperville with my parents. I was 23 years old. In town there was a local Turkey Trot. Back then it was a small race with only 326 finishers. Today it has grown to over 6,000 participants. For whatever reason, I decided I want to race. I do not remember what sparked the interest – perhaps it was burning calories because back then that was the only reason why I worked out – perhaps a spark set a fire for competing that hadn’t burned for years.
The night before, as in around 7 pm, to prepare myself I ran 7 miles around the indoor track at the gym. I remember my mom was walking laps and I was running. If I can run 7 miles, I can run a 5K, right? It was the world’s most ignorant training plan. But it was something, and gave me the illusion of preparation which at times is all an athlete needs to do well.
I remember signing up on race morning, pinning the number to my shirt and waiting until the mayor fired a gun to signify the start of the race. I have no idea how it felt or what I was thinking. I just remember I crossed the line….
And at that moment, something clicked.
That click resonated in my mind for a few months. Until March of the next year to be exact. When I read about a local women’s triathlon also in my home town. It sounded like a good idea. And if I can do a 5K, what’s a little 750 meter swim and 22K bike before it? I was bold, like most young 20-somethings, thinking I could do anything I put my mind too without regret, without thinking what would others think or how would I do or….without overthinking it. I just did.
From there I did a lot of things. I have a giant scrapbook of race numbers, results and pictures signifying over 10 years in a sport that I have done – to some extent – over done. Since that first 5K, I have taken over 3 minutes off that first 5K time. It only took me 7 years to do that. Patience pays off. Progress takes time. I have no better proof when I say that to my athletes than myself.
For Thanksgiving this year, aside from the many things in life that we are grateful for – health, family, opportunity….I am grateful for that click. Whatever set it off, whatever made me sign up for that 5K it opened a door to what I now call my life. A husband, a business, thousands of miles of memories across the world doing the things I love with people I love too. When I reflect back on the 11 years that have since passed, I realize that those 3.1 miles were perhaps a few of the most important miles I’ve covered in my life.
I am grateful for that!
Tuesday, November 24, 2009
Not just any grocery store but the Trader Joe’s. There are 3 within 5 miles of my house. Welcome to the suburbs of Chicago. If you can’t find it within 5 miles of your house it might as well be in Wisconsin. I quickly rolled through my choices:
Naperville – a vehement no flashes through my head, images of far too many young 30something moms with 3983209428092348492 kids and at least one set of fertilitydruginduced multiples, trendy sporty casual wear and the slightest idea of how to control their 2398492837492847 children around the banana display.
Scratch that off my list.
Glen Ellyn – *head shakes* Not only do you have all Naperville (above) but you also have the old people. I have nothing against old people. One day I will be an old people. But I just think that free samples and old people in a store with aisles the width of a jail cell are not a good combination.
Especially around the holidays.
Downers Grove – we may have a winner here. Not a town known for old people or moms with multiples. I threw my co-pilot (Boss) into the car and off we went.
The parking lot was madness. I survived the first turn in – barely – after a Crown Victoria slowly peels away. Closer to the store there are cars coming, going and two simultaneously pulling out from opposite directions, neither seeing the other until they are inches apart when they finally notice and start honking.
Meanwhile, Boss is barking at an older woman wheeling a cart across the parking lot.
I guess we’re all a little on edge today.
Enter the store. Enter madness. Enter the 10th circle of hell, the one that Dante left out, nestled somewhere between Avarice and Sloth is….the grocery store around Thanksgiving.
I don't like the grocery store on an ordinary day and I really don't like it on before holiday days. But I had put this trip off for 4 days. I reached the point of desperation 3 days ago when I started using frozen fruit in my oatmeal, when I settled on a lunch of couscous and beans (ew), when I considered eating a Power Bar as a snack. Desperate moments involving food can drive you to things like this.
But unless I wanted to make a meal entirely out of condiments (I believe it is Elisa’s husband who considers it a talent to create a meal entirely out of condiments something a la adding hot water to the ketchup to make a delectable feast of tomato soup with a side of capers), unless I wanted to stoop to that level of kitchen insanity I had to go to the grocery store.
I seem to have a sixth sense for choosing the cart with the gimpy wheel every.single.time. Entering the store the front left wheel is facing the wrong way. How can a cart continue to wheel forward with one of the wheels PERPENDICULAR to the others? That is my cart. It is like the short cart.
But wait, I forget that this is the demon store that actually does have short carts for the children. Be warned, shoppers, you may wish to throw on a pair of shin guards if you go shopping at Trader Joe’s in the next two days. And if you go tomorrow night, you should probably also wear a cup just to be careful.
Ever enter a store and immediately spot someone that you know is trouble? There they are: a mother and her daughter in her 20s. Didn’t matter where I went in the store, they were right there. Like RIGHT in my way so I had to wheel the damn cart around them or almost into them or kept walking into them. There’s an entire store full of food and they have to be following me? I assembled possibly the most pedestrian cart full of groceries – EVER – and they have cart envy for ME? Go pick on the lunchbox over there piling his car with chocolate covered sticky things. You won’t go hungry after 5 days following his lead. There’s a good chance you’ll starve yourself after settling for condiments if you follow me.
Remember what I said about old people? Wrong. Everywhere. Then I realize what is going on here. It is lunch time. Whomever said there is no such thing as a free lunch has never been to Trader Joe’s around lunch.
And add insult to injury they are also giving out free samples of wine. A crowd has joined around the table and completely barred any carts for passing beyond the wine toward the cheese and meat. This seems dangerous to me. There is nothing worse than shopping on an empty stomach let alone shopping while three sheets to the wind. Especially before Thanksgiving?
What did you get at the grocery store, honey? Oh, so we’re having a Thanksgiving of chips and dip this year?
A woman is complaining at the vegetable cooler. Something about not wanting to come back to get something that she obviously needs right now. Zip it, sister. It’s the suburbs. There’s another grocery store in this shopping mall.
Oh and for crying out loud why the f*&#$&!!! are you two still following me!
It’s check out time. I wheel my cart up to the register and the clerk is so freakin’ happy to see me. I bet a few minutes ago he was hanging out the back door, smoking a cigarette and threatening to throw Trader Giotto’s red sauce at the next person who stood there while he bagged 300 dollars worth of groceries. I still don’t understand why people stand there and don’t help them bag.
Wait….THIS JUST IN. Cat just sent me a picture of a sandwich board standing on a curb that reads “COMPLIMENTARY VALET PARKING”. For Whole Foods.
I believe we have identified what you will find in the 11th circle of hell. Valet parking at the grocery store.
I am being checked out. My groceries, silly! The clerk begins to scan my spinach, bread, bananas when he comes to the Greek Yogurt.
Do you need a spoon for this or is it going to survive the car ride home?
Seriously? This is a question, not a statement. Are there people out there that crave Greek Yogurt so much they cannot wait to get into the car, rip the lid off and literally drink it down – ALL 16 OUNCES OF IT – in all of its creamy thickness? Are these the same people using the grocery store valet? WHO tears into Greek Yogurt on the way home? Chocolate-covered English toffee – yes. Peanut butter cups – yes. Greek yogurt….I’ll pass.
I let him down with a conclusive, no, I will not need a spoon to for the yogurt. All 3 containers of it. And for the record I would have torn into a box of chocolate-covered toffee but you were all out.
I guess if you are really hungry you can just dig into the bananas.
You mean the green bananas? No, no I won't be digging into those either. For crying out loud, dude, do you really tear into Greek Yogurt and eat green bananas? You been Trader Joe-washed if so. There are better things out there! Like chocolate! And ripe fruit!
So you’re really stocking up here.
Call me chowbox why don't you. I swear. It’s like a black hole for logic in here today. This is not stocking up. This is about 5 days worth of groceries. Or 100 dollars. And just because I am walking out of here with something more than a bunch of flowers, a bottle of wine and wasabi corn chips like the rest of these people (who goes to the grocery store for three things? Who has that kind of time?), just because of that does not mean I am stocking up.
I’m just grocery shopping.
I’ve crossed the line from casual shopper to passive aggressive. I’m hungry, I’m tired of THOSE TWO following me and I’m a little miffed that you were out of toffee today. Get me out of here. The store was buzzing with people, there is an excessive cinnamon smell in the air and there’s a party going on back there by meat and cheese and I wasn't invited.
As I walked out with my stocked up cart (it was three bags?!?!), people were pouring in the doors. I considered going over to the grocery store (ugh) for the pumpkin I forgot but then got my common sense back and said it can wait until…Sunday.
And if I get hungry between now and then, it’s back to condiments. Actually I think our refrigerator this morning had some milk, tahini, goat cheese and a leftover chicken breast (date of origin unknown).
Add a little ketchup and it sounds like a perfect meal in a pinch if you ask me.
Saturday, November 21, 2009
Yes, indeed it was just a few days ago I talked about how I am not into girlie things. Which is true. I’m really not. However, when it comes to lotion:
ALL BETS ARE OFF.
I have a lotion problem. Such a problem that I’ve blogged about it before. Search the archives. Since then I have developed an even bigger problem. I’ve stepped it up. From Bath & Body Works to Aveda. That’s like saying my first bike was a Huffy and now I ride a Cervelo. There is no comparison. True they are both bikes but….all it takes is one ride, one pump of the lotion to smear across your hands and you know…
That you will never ride a Huffy again.
(growing up I had a pink Huffy with a banana seat)
It was Monday night when I suggested a trip to the mall. If you would like to further search the archives you will also find a blog about the mall, specifically why Chris and I created the Law of the Mall which reads:
Under no circumstances will the husband accompany the wife to the shopping mall because when man and woman arrive at confusion at the shopping mall it may or may not result in a man and woman arguing, perhaps slightly louder than library voice, in the shopping mall about mixed messages and unmet expectations derived from differences in opinion regarding what it means to go shopping (where husband assumes that shopping is general and wife knows that shopping is specific to…herself).
Disobeying the Law of the Mall, Chris agreed to join me at the mall. Of course, we were not going shopping. We were going shopping for…me. And, specifically shopping for $68 lotion.
Hear me out. Did you ever have the one thing that you keep putting off because it’s too fancy, too expensive, too frivolous, too overpriced but something keeps making you feel like you absolutely need this product to have a good life and if you wait one day longer you will keep putting off the life you could have if only you had the __________________(fill in the blank).
For me, it is $68 lotion. From Aveda. In my defense, I did not know it was $68 lotion. I just know it was the lotion that came in the smoky green bottle and smells like an earthy clean mixture of good stuff and pine trees. Reading that it sounds absolutely horrible. But trust me, it smells good. Really good.
And I don’t know why but I really want this lotion. Like for the past 10 years. I first used it up in Minneapolis at one of Chris’ friend’s houses. I assume it was his wife’s lotion. But you never know? The entire bathroom was filled with all sorts of fancy lotions and make up bottles. Is it just me or is there something inviting and enviable about being in another girl’s bathroom and finding it filled with fancy little bottles of good smelliness. It makes me want things, new things and makes me think I don’t have enough things.
And if you let me in your bathroom, be warned: I will touch it, use it, spray it. Also if I don’t like you maybe do questionable things with your toothbrush.
(remind me to tell you the story some time about when Chris accidentally used the “cleaning the bathroom” toothbrush)
Anyhow, in her empire of girlie bottles and lotions this girl had many products from Aveda. I need those things, I thought to myself, they smell so good. Later, I discovered a nearby Aveda store. And then I discovered that everything inside the store carries a price tag over 30 dollars. Is it worth it? They sure make a positive sell, like my face and the entire planet will wither and die if I don’t use it.
Since then I have wanted that lotion. But not the price tag. Sigh. Beauty, perfection and saving the planet can wait. Until lately. What am I waiting for? If I want it why am I depriving myself? Why do women do this? Chris has things, all sorts of frivolous things. Have you seen our basement? We could outfit and entire cycling team with wheels and bikes. And I’m squabbling over lotion?
I didn’t first intend on buying the lotion. I actually fell for the bait with a mailed to me coupon. A sample of Rosemary Mint lotion (which I later found out was Rosemary Mint shower gel, not exactly what I was hoping for when I smeared it all over my hands). I was just going in for my sample. But as I looked around the store I couldn’t resist. There is was the fancy I don’t-need-you-but-really-want-you lotion.
I tried the tester, smelled it and made up my mind. Buy it. No. You want that. No, you don’t need that. If not know then when? You’ve waited this long. How many times are you going to come back here and use the god only knows who else’s hands have been under it tester, hmmph? I don’t know but…
I grabbed a bottle. The big one. For economical reasons. It was $34 for 5 ounces or $68 for 16 ounces.
What would you do?
Before I could change my mind – and good for Aveda for making their store the size of a tin can so you have the least room possible from shelves to register to change your mind and leave the plastic box of sheet cake in the bread aisle because you just decided you didn’t need it after all – I started walking over to the register.
Meanwhile, I noticed Chris sitting in the do my make up now chair. He looked, totally bored. As most men do when shopping. And that sealed the deal. I was buying the lotion and getting him out of here.
It was a mercy mission.
Walking out of the store, Chris asked what I bought.
Lotion. I fell right into that trap.
What kind of lotion?
Lotion that cost a lot of money. Sometimes my mouth is like a freakin’ bear trap.
Now I can only imagine what the man thinks here. Lotion that costs a lot of money. Hmm, he thinks. A bottle of Suave costs about $1.99 so the woman spent 5 bucks on lotion, big deal.
How much money?
I could smell the dumbfoundedness in the air. An earthy mix of burning money and man sweat.
You bought 68 dollar lotion.
(Guilty as charged) - not said but thought.
What the hell does it do for $68?
It smells good.
What does it smell like?
I don’t know…good stuff. Really, it's hard for me to pinpoint what the good stuff is, it's just all smoky green bottle good.
The rest of the week, I had to know it was coming to me. Threats, barbs and jokes about the lotion sitting on display on my bathroom counter (best invention ever: separate bathrooms for husband and wife). Know that not every lotion is displayed but you buy a bottle of $68 lotion and it could probably double as a mantlepiece.
Every day Chris walked by it threatening to touch it, to use it, just one pump. Until finally on Saturday the teasing reached a crescendo of ridiculousness when I asked him what he was going to do for the rest of the night after dinner:
I’ve got a date with a porno mag and a $68 bottle of lotion.
It didn’t stop there. He showed me his dry cracking hands that signals the onset of Midwestern winter.
Maybe I can use some of your lotion to fix it.
And then I lost it.
NO! You do NOT use my lotion for your hands. You use your cheap Suave lotion or you go buy yourself some shea butter but DO NOT TOUCH MY $68 LOTION! It is the kind of lotion that you put on when you are done getting ready or before you leave the house or you want your face to smell good. It is NOT working lotion!
All joking stopped. For now. Further mention of my lotion stopped. For now. Any guilt associated with spending $68 on lotion has gone. For now. But I can sense one thing. While it all has stopped now, that bottle of lotion is not safe if left alone in the house with my husband.
So I’m hiding it away. Right next to the $24 hair product. And the toothbrush I use for bathroom cleaning.
(enter sinister laugh)
Wednesday, November 18, 2009
You need to relax.
Followed up by….
You might want to try yoga.
Followed up by the name of a yoga studio specializing in fixing people like me through detox cleanses, meditation, acupuncture, book groups, fasts.
If you want to paint the picture of my personal hell, it would include all of the things mentioned above.
Yet once again the prescription was relax. How many times a day, a week am I told to relax. I’ve lost count. My athletes would say that even I had kept count there’s a good chance I would have added incorrectly anyways. But according to my sketchy at best calculations, I’ve been told to relax for years.
And I still haven’t mastered it.
What is it about some of us that relaxation completely eludes us? It’s like my blood type runs jittery and restless. Searching and at times discontent. Sure sometimes I need to slow down but in order to relax do I need to come to a dead stop? Can’t I multitask my way to relaxation? Or at least chew gum and relax at the same time?
Looking into relaxation, you find that it is often synonymous with slowing down. With stretching. Even sleeping. Napping? And everything I’ve read lately about stress and relaxation seems to include: yoga.
Allow me to describe my last foray into yoga. It was about 2 weeks ago when I attended yoga at my gym. It’s the Sunday afternoon class set during the perfect time of day. At this time of year, out the large windows you can watch the transition from day to night as you bend and twist yourself into a series of allegedly “relaxing” poses. The instructor talked about quieting the mind, to eliminate the monkey chatter that sets into our brains throughout daily life. Despite her convincing plea to focus on breath, focus on intent, my mind was chattering like a hyperactive monkey swinging from tree to tree throwing bananas at its friends.
A day later I woke up sore to the touch. The typically 75-minute yoga class had turned, somehow, into a 105 minute exercise in needling my arms through my legs and standing on one foot. It took four entire days for the soreness to go away. The entire experience was anything but relaxing. It was physically painful and left me feeling like less of a person because clearly I cannot relax. Plus my mind is a chattering primate.
Yoga seems to be the solution to everything. Stressed, sick, infertile? Try yoga. It’s like a dreamy escape made palpable with earthy tones, beautiful clothing and a secret language. I want to talk that language. I want to get in touch with my prana. I also like clothes made by the company Prana. I want to like yoga, I really do. But what if that doesn’t do it for me. What then? Where do people like me go? How in the hell are we supposed to relax?
When I find myself in need of practical advice, I turn to Facebook. Hear me out. I have over 600 friends and strangers with years of life experience. Someone is bound to know something I don’t. And so I asked: how do you relax?
The comments rolled in quickly, 30, 40, 50, over 60 comments on how to relax. Stepping back from the comments, I realized that our relaxation tends to fall into predictable patterns:
Warm Fuzzies. These are things like sit around in pajamas, read a good back, drink a hot cup of tea. Ah the warm fuzzies. Reminds me of high school when they were trying to teach us about drug prevention. Each student was given ball of yarn loosely tied together. You were supposed to pull off a piece, hand it to your friend and tell them something nice. I like your white Keds (side note: doesn’t it scare you when you see an adult wearing Keds?). The idea was to give them a warm fuzzy rather than drugs. Problem is that drugs may or may not be more exciting than a piece of yarn especially when set to the soundtrack of Pink Floyd’s Set The Controls For The Heart Of The Sun. The bigger problem is nothing warm and fuzzy appeals to me. I sit around in my pajamas all day long working from home. I don’t like tea and fiction scares me. It’s like reading someone’s conversation with their imaginary friends. Of which I had two when I was growing up: Lassie and Manny, they went with me everywhere. Perhaps I should relax by writing their memoirs. Speaking of friends, what about connecting with old friends? That sent me straight into a fit of ha ha ha. Let’s leave high school in the grave where it belongs, shall we? Four years of awkwardly out of place gawky weirdness? The thought of going back stresses me out. Warm fuzzy stuff just doesn’t relax me. It’s too passive and when I get too warm I get night sweats.
Fluff. Fluff is just that. Massage, hair cut, manicure, pedicure. Not only does the salon scare me but it stresses me out. It’s exorbitantly priced and I still end up going home, washing my hair and fixing it every time. Let me tell you about the last time I had a manicure. It was the day before my wedding. I told the nail technician that I was getting my nails done for a wedding. She asked me whose wedding. I said “mine”. She looked at me, eyes wide, mouth dropped and said WITH THESE NAILS? Yes, I know. To think that someone would marry me with these nails. And therein lies the problem. The problem with prettiness. Relaxing by way of salon, to me, is defeating yourself to the idea embedded into our culture that the woman’s main job is to be pretty. And if you’re not worried about being pretty or working at it, you are less of a woman. You’re not doing your job. So spend hundreds of dollars on make up, product (it’s shampoo, for crying out loud, why do you insist on calling it PRODUCT), and accessories. THIS is relaxing? Every trip to the salon is a larger than life reminder of my inadequateness and sloppiness reflected back at me by way of the oversized mirrors and stark lighting that I am convinced highlights only your bad features. Reminders like this are anything but relaxing.
Things Men Do To Relax. This is an entirely separate category. Ask a man how he relaxes and he will quickly generate a dozen things. Video games, beer, watching sports, building things and my personal favorite comment – whittling. My father in the law is the master of relaxation. He always has a project. To me starting a project begs for completion. To him, there is no stress. The outcome is not the goal, it’s the process, the problem solving of how to get the garden railway tracks to fit together in the backyard. To my husband, it’s getting lost in the levels of a complex video game and not emerging from the basement until it’s won. True a man has stresses and expectations, but they are the product of what he does – not who he is. It’s hard to relax as a woman; be pretty, dress nice, put on make up, don’t be a bitch, make babies. What if I’m not pretty, I’m most comfortable in Lycra, I’m sometimes a bitch and I can’t make babies? How do you relax when you are all of that? In my next life I either want to come back as my dog or a man.
Working out. This one is a bit tricky. You see, working out is my business. All day long I talk about, read about and think about working out for my athletes. Sometimes when I finally go to work out, I find it hard to separate it from being “work”. Working out is good when it’s good. But what about when you’re injured, sick or resting? Then you can’t use working out to relax. Working out used to be my outlet when I worked outside of the home. It was my escape from the daily bullshit of management, meetings, deadlines. But now that my work is working out – to some extent – it’s hard to use it as an escape. Especially when you want to have goals with working out – the very nature of relaxation is to let go of goals. So I’m trying to expand my horizons of things I do for relaxation.
Warm fuzzies, fluff, manly things, yoga, working out…true these things are relaxing to most people but…not to me. And I know I’m not alone. But I also know that I need to relax. For many reasons. The signs are everywhere. I opened up a fortune cookie last week and know what it said?
Take time out for yourself
I get it. I GET IT! Loud and clear. Relax. NOW. Imperative. WARNINGWARNINGWARNING all systems at risk for massive shutdown unless you unwind and relax.
I need to relax about relaxing.
Like most complicated problems, I sat down, stared into space, talked to my dog, and hit the internet.
www.google.com : How To Relax
This should be titled how to crack yourself up in one page or less. An abundance of sites popped up with suggestions in what I am starting to call canned relaxation. Take deep breaths! (then what?) Go shopping! (if I shopped ‘til I was relaxed, I be broke!) Do something for yourself (…like what!?!) And, my favorite….TRY YOGA!
The internet let me down.
So I turned to a friend. She, like me, is wound tight, a little too introspective and sometimes trapped in thought. We connect well because we’re alike and sometimes all you need for a connection is finding that someone else shares your weaknesses. Or what you think are your weaknesses. Do you ever feel like there is this illusion in the world that you need to find things like tea, pajamas, yoga, phone calls relaxing and if you don’t, you’re the square peg? Like the rest of the world exists in a state of loosy goosy footy pajamas and you’re the psycho running laps around them on a broken leash while they dunk their green tea bags? The fact of the matter is that each person is wired differently. And because I don’t like the passively sit, stare and mediate myself into relaxation doesn’t mean that I’m broken or wrong. It just means I march to a different beat. And I’ve realized in life that at times that beat is psychotically staccato but ultimately it has a rhythm. That rhythm is me.
But I agree that the rhythm needs to slow down at times. So I talk to the friend and suggest we both go on a mission to relax. Spend a month actively trying to relax ourselves and see what the outcome is. Maybe we haven’t given yoga enough of a chance. Maybe we need to join a book club. Maybe watch more Oprah. Drink wine on a Wednesday night (which I’ve tried, found relaxing for a few hours until you wake up on Thursday thinking to yourself dear god what have I done to myself). I don’t know what it will take to relax but I’m willing to find out.
Together, the friend and I threw out some ideas. From the purely ridiculous to those that actually might work. Everything from body rolling to laughter yoga.
And if you don’t know what laughter yoga is, I suggest you Google it, watch the You Tube and proceed to laugh your ass off – and the best part? You’re laughing for no reason at all.
Perhaps in our journey we will find what relaxation means. Perhaps we will become more satisfied with ourselves. Perhaps we will learn something new. Or perhaps we will become even more stressed. In any event, it’s worth a try. So here’s what I need: I want your ideas on how to relax. Anything and everything. If you think I need to sit on a carpet square in my closet for 10 minutes a day writing in a gratitude journal while licking a copy of Oprah’s magazine, I will give it a whirl. Is there a book I need to read? A yoga I need to try? A tea I should drink? Help me out here. Because I’m like a ball of dark roast fury when it comes to unwinding. Sometimes I just don’t know how.
But I'm convinced that all hope is not lost. If I find myself still pent up I can always turn to whittling. Or help Mr. Tom build his garden railway tracks.
Sunday, November 15, 2009
I woke up serious, determined, tapered and ready to go. I put my game face on. As well as a pair of comfortable walking shoes. This was not just any race. A world championship. Put me in coach, I’ve done the training, I envisioned the outcome over a dozen times. There’s no one that can do this better than me. I’ve done it before and been at this level.
I am a world champion spectathlete.
It’s a lot easier than it sounds. I’ve spent the past year watching more races than I’ve done. And when I look back on it now I realize it’s what I needed to do. Indeed I have seen the race from a different point of view and when I look back at the past two years I realize the only thing I have gained is perspective. Which is perhaps more valuable and rewarding than any medal or title. Perspective makes us value what we have, it makes us appreciate where we have been, and where we might go.
Perspective from the spectators point of view. You wake up just as early, you drop off your athletes. Then you drive 100 circles around the street to find parking. You go on a mission to find coffee. Start with the important things. You accept that you'll maybe (or maybe not) find food later. Then you walk over to the swim start. You stand waiting for the faces of everyone you know. This is perhaps the most exhausting part of spectating. You spend hours studying, searching faces looking for body shapes, uniforms, gaits, eyes of the athletes you know. It’s tiring. And finally when you do recognize someone, you wave and shout like a maniac.
Then I stood by a pier watching the pro waves go off. The women were off and then the men. It was quite entertaining – as is most of this race – only because it seems to have become a display of how ridiculous can things get and how far can race organizers turn their head to ignore it. Before their head completely falls off. I guess no one – not the officials, not the kayakers, the paddle boarders, the hundreds of spectators, the announcer, nor the over 60 men in the pro field noticed that while they started 90 seconds before the race AT the start buoy they kept inching their way forward, more, more, more until by the start cannon they were a good 100 yards IN FRONT of the start buoy doing what looked sorta like swimming already.
The crowd just laughed.
After all, it’s Clearwater. Does anyone take this race seriously? I mean no disrespect to those who competed or strive to qualify. It’s a world championship. That’s honorable. But it just seems that everything about this race doesn’t add up. The officiating seems a bit loose. The competition seems to have arrived with the intent that to get ahead in this race, you need to draft. Yes, you can race this race clean. Many athletes do. But to get on the podium? Maybe you need to race a little dirty. Maybe not. I’m not discounting any of the performances out there. There are some phenomenal athletes there, true. But like I said, something about this race doesn’t add up.
Another case of bad math.
After the pros started, I walked back to the transition area to watch athletes come in from the swim. I waited until I saw all of my athletes and then headed up to the causeway to situate myself for the run. The excitement started building as I saw the lead vehicles bringing the pro men across the bridge. They whirred by me in a giant pack of about 30 cyclists zipping upwards of 30 mph. But who can blame them. With the one lane and the traffic cones being carefully placed inside that lane they hardly had room to ride let alone pass.
I stood around mile 2 of the run cheering my athletes and friends on like crazy. I said a lot of things. Things that I would say to myself when I was racing. Things you need to hear. Things to keep you focused. So many thoughts and feelings go through your body and head. Pain, fear, discomfort, nerves. I could see the discomfort in their eyes, sometimes their gait. But I could also see the hunger, the passion. It’s the raw emotion of racing that fires me up to get out there again.
When they all passed me for the last time, I walked back to the finish line. Finally I started finding athletes. Congratulations, hugs, how did it go. Things went well! Kara ran her way to top 10 in her age group . Erich had an all around solid effort with top 10 in his age group. Rebecca set a new PR even with getting a flat tire by the tracks. It was a proud day. And Chris? At some point that will be a separate blog about my thoughts on racing pro. It’s safe to say he learned nothing that I didn’t already know or tell him. It’s different out there. Especially when you race that course alone.
By 2 pm I had been on the go for nearly 10 hours. I had consumed a bagel and a cup of coffee. I was trashed. Not to discount what the athletes do out there but us spectators are out there just as long without a steady stream of fuel and fluids. Plus I made the rookie mistake of forgetting sunscreen and dropping my salt tabs. But I was in the final stretch. You can do this, I said to myself. One last mile, one last person to find: Jennifer. I walked by the food line, weary, eyes tired from searching for faces when someone stopped me.
Hey, thanks for cheering out there today, said a woman who I remember from the course. She was wearing a top that said Practical Coaching.
I told her it was my pleasure, it’s what I do, I smile, I’m a professional spectathlete.
She looked at me like she recognized something and asked: Are you ELF?
Yes. Yes, I am. I am E.L.F. Although by marriage it’s E.L.W. But what is an ELW? She told me that she reads my blog. I thanked her for reading and then ironically ran into Kelzie-from-Kona, the one who shouted to me along Alii Drive I read your blog! We talked for a bit before I walked back to the group. All the way, of course, thinking….
We drove back to the hotel. Jennifer and Chris demanded pancakes. I just wanted to be by myself. I was done being cheerleader for the day. I went back to the room and looked at my running shoes by my suitcase. I was in no shape to run. I had been on my feet all day, probably walked over 5 miles shouting, cheering, low on fluids, and most definitely low on fuel. But I needed to run. This was my time.
As I ran along the streets of Clearwater I realized I was done being a cheerleader. I am done standing on the side. I’ve spent a year watching the sport. I am tired of watching. I am tired of being recognized as a spectathlete. I am tired of having conversations with athletes that I used to have in my head with myself. I am tired of putting myself off. In the past week I have had this feeling that the show must go on. I need to get back to what I like to do and get good at it again. I am not a good pro and don’t want to be. But I want to be a good athlete.
On December 31st I get to expire as a pro. I am ready for that. No, it wasn’t a mistake to turn pro. A mistake is something you regret. Instead it was a lesson. Yes, this lesson cost me the last two years but sometimes the best lessons are the most costly. In exchange for an elite license I learned a lot. I’m not sure all pros can say that. I see a lot of pros making the same mistakes over and over again in their races. At some point you have to be honest with yourself. You’re either not physically strong enough or you don’t have the head for it. If you been an athlete for xx years and you’re still dropping your nutrition/salt tabs/whatever on the course and still not going back for it you have to sit down with yourself and ask what the fuck.
When will you get it?
I got “it” in the past few months. I don’t belong. I am ok with that. Recently, I was asked what is the hardest thing about being a coach. Honestly, it’s resetting unrealistic expectations. It’s letting people down in that way. It’s convincing them that there is no magic on race day. If you don’t do it in training, you cannot arrive at ________. But this honesty is also the most important thing you can do as a coach (and as an athlete). Help athletes set realistic expectations, guide them to get there and feel like hard work was worth their time. Because if you set a realistic expectation you will likely achieve it. You will have success. Success then builds more success. It’s like climbing a staircase. You cannot jump from ground level to the top step. It’s progressive.
Unless you have a killer vertical.
Along those same lines, back in August, I asked someone to honesty look at me, my training, my paces, my power graphs, my results and give it to me straight. They came back at me with the best thing I have ever been told:
You should have never turned pro.
It was a huge relief to hear that. And I told them thank you; thank you for not wasting my time and thank you for being honest with me about that. Because the one thing we will all run out of eventually is time. You CAN go back and pick up dropped bottles but you CANNOT go back to pick up time. For someone to tell you honestly how to not waste your time with unrealistic expectations, well, honesty is worth its psychological price.
Which brings me back to Clearwater. Or the 70.3 World Championship. Until they move the location or change the format, I would not waste the time. You only have so much life energy, so much money, and so many miles you can race. Spend them wisely. There are better races out there. Maybe experience it once but be prepared for some dishonesty out there. If you cannot reconcile with that, then go out and race a different race. I’m not accusing, I’m just saying. And along with that just standing by and laughing with the other spectators as the pro men’s field moves farther and farther from the start line before the race starts….
And so this closes my 2009 season as an athlete turned spectathlete. I learned a lot from this side. But now I look forward to 2010, to racing and coaching. The show must go on. It is time. And in all honestly, it’s time for me to be an athlete again.