Dear Swimming Pool,
Look, I know it's been too long. It's presumptuous of me to think I could stay away, come back now and think things would be just like they've always been. I know that I screwed up.
We've always gotten along so well (except for that one time with the over-chlorinated water and the screaming children.) I appreciate your gentle lapping waves that spring into my mouth while I'm trying to breathe, the way your lane lines scrape against my arm/torso/legs as I struggle to swim in a straight line and of course, all of the random items (band aids, metal objects, indescribable black lumps, etc.) that appear on your floor. My recent visit did not disappoint on any of these points.
Now, I know my last visit was less than spectacular. There was a lot of time I spent flailing about instead of propelling myself in a forward motion. I bobbed up and down, my limbs moving in a motion that should have resembled swimming, but really just looked like I was trying to claw my way through the water to the other end of the pool. I promise it will get better.
So I write this letter not only as an apology, but also as a thank you. Despite my lengthy absence from your presence and dismal attempt at swimming, our visit was quite nice. I look forward to a long, productive visit again very soon...maybe even tomorrow!
All the best,
Melanie -- your water-logged friend
P.S. I didn't realize that my suit was so threadbare. I promise next time I'll wear a suit that's not almost see-through. There are children at the pool and I don't need to scare any of them.
Saturday, January 4, 2014
Sunday, January 1, 2012
Push-up...what???
The gym is shockingly empty on New Year's Day at 10:00 AM. It's a good thing too. This morning, no one had to be tortured, watching me flop around on the floor, trying to do a push-up. It's a good reminder that I can't take off several months and expect to do the same things that I always have.
Saturday, December 31, 2011
Happy New Year = Happy Running!
As we head into a new year, I head into a new training challenge. I've always detested running. Yet somehow, I keep signing up for races. This time, I'm taking on a bigger challenge and will be running in the Rock 'n Roll USA Half Marathon on Saturday, March 17th.
Several people have told me that they think completing a triathlon is more impressive than a marathon or half-marathon. Puh-lease. I can handle swimming and biking and manage to muddle through a 10k run. With the half-marathon, there is no escaping and there's no changing disciplines.
I'm not going to lie -- I'm a little scared.
For this event, I am again training with Team in Training and planning to blog about the trials and tribulations of me, trying to be an athlete. Below is the link to my fundraising page...donate early, donate often!
Happy new year and enjoy!
http://pages.teamintraining.org/nca/natl12/mzentner
Several people have told me that they think completing a triathlon is more impressive than a marathon or half-marathon. Puh-lease. I can handle swimming and biking and manage to muddle through a 10k run. With the half-marathon, there is no escaping and there's no changing disciplines.
I'm not going to lie -- I'm a little scared.
For this event, I am again training with Team in Training and planning to blog about the trials and tribulations of me, trying to be an athlete. Below is the link to my fundraising page...donate early, donate often!
Happy new year and enjoy!
http://pages.teamintraining.org/nca/natl12/mzentner
Monday, November 21, 2011
Reflecting on Grandpa Cline
I originally started this blog to follow my training efforts for triathlons. It was funny and light, all about my trials and tribulations of being a normal person trying to complete tris. However, today I am sitting at my parents' house in Monroe and need a public forum to share some very personal reflections.
My grandpa Cline's funeral is today. He was 95 years old and lived a long and interesting life. He worked hard from a young age, fought in the Pacific theater during World War Two, and married and had 13 children. He farmed some, worked in factories, and during his later years, the last job I remember him having was as the greeter at the local Wal-Mart.
Grandpa Cline was a character. He lived his entire life as a staunch Republican (even though he once admitted to me that he voted for Kennedy...but that was the only Democrat for whom he had ever voted.) He knew that my views were in stark opposition to his and when I was a teenager and young adult, Grandpa always tried to draw me into political discussions. I'm pretty sure he knew that he wouldn't be able to change my mind, but enjoyed the banter, liked to see me impassioned about my viewpoints, and I think he ultimately liked getting a rise out of me.
Several years ago, when Grandma and Grandpa were still living in their own apartment, Mom and I stopped-by for a visit. I had been told earlier about how stubborn Grandpa was being, refusing to leave the house for a much needed haircut. In an effort to tease him, I asked if he had clippers in the house and suggested that I could give him a quick buzz cut in the bathroom. It was the most energy that he had all day, as he agreed and even suggested that we could lay newspaper on the bathroom floor to catch the hair. I suggested a change of routine and it seemed to perk him up. (Ultimately, I had to talk him out of the buzz cut in the bathroom. I've never actually used clippers and was afraid that I would really mess up and then everyone in the family would blame me.)
There were a few physical peculiarities about Grandpa. He was missing half a finger, a constant reminder of his time in the Navy, had tattoos on both arms -- all related to his time in the service, and for some reason, he always liked wearing cowboy hats. At the end of a long day, his shock of bright, white hair would form into the shape of the hat. Even as he got older, his eyes were always bright blue and are the same color that I see on my mom's face.
Grandpa cared so much about his large family. Clearly, having 13 children leads to having even more grandchildren and today, even a number of great grandchildren. Even though we all had bumps in the road, Grandpa was always proud of us...all of us. When asked why he had so many kids, his response was always the elusive, "Which one would we have given back?" It definitely wasn't the point of the question, but without saying it directly, shows how much he cared.
When my niece, Madalin was born in 1997, Grandpa loved her beautiful red, curly hair. It was the same color as his mother's, Great Grandma Cline. For years, he called Madalin his copper penny. I know that he called my mom his little stump fairy when she was a child, even though I never really understood why. To my knowledge, I never had a nickname, but I'm pretty sure he had more for others.
The last few years of Grandpa's life were particularly hard. He lost Grandma in 2008 and really seemed to stop caring after that. His body was failing him. He couldn't see well nor could he hear well. (Even though I don't think he could ever hear very well. Grandpa had a habit of turning down his hearing aid or not wearing it at all and instead just watching. I think he did this for YEARS.) The failings of his body were frustrating to him. One of the last times I went to visit, he told me that even though the name of the home in which he was living was called Pleasant View, it was anything but a very pleasant view.
His mind remained sharp and I think this frustrated him even more. On one of my last visits, my niece and Dad stayed in a nearby waiting room while Mom and I visited with Grandpa. As we were getting ready to leave, Madalin and Dad walked by and Grandpa called out to them, by name. Even as his body failed him, his mind remained sharp.
The last few years of his life, Grandpa was unhappy and that made me, and I'm sure the entire family, unhappy as well. Although his passing is very hard for his family, I know that he is much happier now. I am hopeful that today, although sad no matter what, can be a celebration of his long life and his large family.
I love you Grandpa and will miss you.
http://www.ericksonfuneralhome.com/darlington_obituaries.html#cline
My grandpa Cline's funeral is today. He was 95 years old and lived a long and interesting life. He worked hard from a young age, fought in the Pacific theater during World War Two, and married and had 13 children. He farmed some, worked in factories, and during his later years, the last job I remember him having was as the greeter at the local Wal-Mart.
Grandpa Cline was a character. He lived his entire life as a staunch Republican (even though he once admitted to me that he voted for Kennedy...but that was the only Democrat for whom he had ever voted.) He knew that my views were in stark opposition to his and when I was a teenager and young adult, Grandpa always tried to draw me into political discussions. I'm pretty sure he knew that he wouldn't be able to change my mind, but enjoyed the banter, liked to see me impassioned about my viewpoints, and I think he ultimately liked getting a rise out of me.
Several years ago, when Grandma and Grandpa were still living in their own apartment, Mom and I stopped-by for a visit. I had been told earlier about how stubborn Grandpa was being, refusing to leave the house for a much needed haircut. In an effort to tease him, I asked if he had clippers in the house and suggested that I could give him a quick buzz cut in the bathroom. It was the most energy that he had all day, as he agreed and even suggested that we could lay newspaper on the bathroom floor to catch the hair. I suggested a change of routine and it seemed to perk him up. (Ultimately, I had to talk him out of the buzz cut in the bathroom. I've never actually used clippers and was afraid that I would really mess up and then everyone in the family would blame me.)
There were a few physical peculiarities about Grandpa. He was missing half a finger, a constant reminder of his time in the Navy, had tattoos on both arms -- all related to his time in the service, and for some reason, he always liked wearing cowboy hats. At the end of a long day, his shock of bright, white hair would form into the shape of the hat. Even as he got older, his eyes were always bright blue and are the same color that I see on my mom's face.
Grandpa cared so much about his large family. Clearly, having 13 children leads to having even more grandchildren and today, even a number of great grandchildren. Even though we all had bumps in the road, Grandpa was always proud of us...all of us. When asked why he had so many kids, his response was always the elusive, "Which one would we have given back?" It definitely wasn't the point of the question, but without saying it directly, shows how much he cared.
When my niece, Madalin was born in 1997, Grandpa loved her beautiful red, curly hair. It was the same color as his mother's, Great Grandma Cline. For years, he called Madalin his copper penny. I know that he called my mom his little stump fairy when she was a child, even though I never really understood why. To my knowledge, I never had a nickname, but I'm pretty sure he had more for others.
The last few years of Grandpa's life were particularly hard. He lost Grandma in 2008 and really seemed to stop caring after that. His body was failing him. He couldn't see well nor could he hear well. (Even though I don't think he could ever hear very well. Grandpa had a habit of turning down his hearing aid or not wearing it at all and instead just watching. I think he did this for YEARS.) The failings of his body were frustrating to him. One of the last times I went to visit, he told me that even though the name of the home in which he was living was called Pleasant View, it was anything but a very pleasant view.
His mind remained sharp and I think this frustrated him even more. On one of my last visits, my niece and Dad stayed in a nearby waiting room while Mom and I visited with Grandpa. As we were getting ready to leave, Madalin and Dad walked by and Grandpa called out to them, by name. Even as his body failed him, his mind remained sharp.
The last few years of his life, Grandpa was unhappy and that made me, and I'm sure the entire family, unhappy as well. Although his passing is very hard for his family, I know that he is much happier now. I am hopeful that today, although sad no matter what, can be a celebration of his long life and his large family.
I love you Grandpa and will miss you.
http://www.ericksonfuneralhome.com/darlington_obituaries.html#cline
Sunday, July 3, 2011
Race Report: the bad and the ugly
Wowser! It's been a long, long time since I've blogged. I'm going to skip all of the in between details and jump right to the heart of the matter: race weekend.
First, I have to say, I trained with the most fun, coolest athletes and friends. I didn't know any of them when we started, but now, I consider several of them very dear to me.
Since the race was in Philly, which is about a two and a half hour drive, I carpooled up on Saturday with two of my teammates and we met up with a caravan composed of most of the rest of our teammates. There's something that's initially awkward about spending a substantial amount of time in an enclosed space with people you only know in a very specific setting, in this case training. This was not the case at all. Conversation flowed. There was a good deal of amusing communication between the cars and the two plus hours passed in no time.
Packet pick-up was uneventful with the usual, but still enjoyable free stuff. I also had the opportunity to meet one of the pros competing on Sunday. (I was asked if I wanted an autographed poster from this particular professional triathlete. My answer was no, but he was sitting there listening to the conversation. I felt like it would just be rude to say no at that point. It's not because I don't admire him, but I don't really *do* posters. I was teased a good deal my one of my teammates for accepting and hanging onto that poster.)
The rest of Saturday was pretty typical. I went to the hotel, got settled in, had some food, and got ready for the pasta party...sorry, inspiration dinner. As usual and expected, it was an inspiring dinner, indeed and I shed more than a few tears at the stories we heard.
After dinner, we met with our coaches and had the chance to exchange some gifts. One of my mentees was celebrating her birthday THAT VERY DAY and we had the chance to celebrate that too. She almost got a little teary-eyed when reading the card...it made my heart smile that she was so touched.
Saturday night was quiet, hanging out with my roommate and in general, getting ready for race day. We had to be in the lobby and ready to go by 4:15 AM on Sunday, so I tried to prep everything on Saturday night.
Sunday morning came early...way too early! I'm not going to post any of the pictures from the lobby (although there are a lot of them on Facebook) as my eyes are closed and puffy in most of them. It's not a good look for me!
We started our ride to transition promptly at 4:30 AM. It was very peaceful and somewhat surreal to be riding through the streets of Philly at that early hour. Nothing was open. There were only a few people on the streets and most of them were police officers. It was a surprisingly relaxing way to get to transition.
It was a beautiful morning once I got to transition. Everyone around me was friendly and transition was surprisingly spacious. Although, I think that's actually because several people around me didn't show up. (As an aside, who would do that? Why would you register for an event and then not show?)
Since the swim was a straight, point-to-point, we had to hop on a shuttle and be driven to the swim in. It provided a good opportunity to view the swim course. Did I mention that the swim was with the current? Could a swim get any easier?
We were there plenty early, so there was a good deal of time to chill out, use the porta-potties, and just get ready for the race. (I have to mention that the bathrooms were super nasty. I have no idea how some of those people were able to compete with what they had coming out of their bodies.)
I should mention that the water temperature was high enough that wetsuits were not legal. You could wear a wetsuit, but the you would have to wait to the very last swim wave. Given how I've had to sausage myself into my wetsuit recently, wearing it would not have been to my advantage.
The swim went well. I stayed pretty steady in my stroke and the wave was small enough that I barely came into contact with other swimmers. We had to swim under a bridge and were told to swim under the second archway from the left. The instructions were pretty clear, but during my swim there, I started questioning the instructions. Do they really mean the second? Or does the first archway only count as a half, so it's actually the second full archway? Well, there was no reason to worry as it was just the second archway and all I had to do was follow the swimmers ahead of me.
During the swim, I caught some of the slower swimmers ahead of me and had a few swimmers from the wave behind me pass. Because my wave was small, I felt like I was in the back the entire time. In no time, I was at the tetrahedron and out of the water. I realized that I actually hadn't been in the back and the swim had taken me about 30 minutes.
T1 was fairly fast and it was fun to actually see people that I knew. I got everything I need, took in some water and was out of transition in just over 3:30. Once I got on the bike, I realized that I had forgotten my gloves. The ride isn't so long that I needed to have them, but it is more comfortable and I did have them sitting out in transition. I'm just so baffled as to how I forget them.
A few minutes into the ride, I was able to take in the Gu taped to my bike and started sipping on my water/Gatorade. I was feeling pretty good by this point.
The bike consisted of two loops, passing across the Schuylkill twice. The first loop of the ride was mentally tough for me. The course had been described as having four hills that were technical climbs. We had done a good deal of hill training and I had researched the course up the wazoo, but the entire first loop, I was anticipating all of the hills and it put me on edge.
The second loop was better. I knew when the hills were coming and that they were all manageable. I was able to take in more water/Gatorade and had a few chomps. On the bike, I was passed more than I passed people, but everyone who passed me seemed to be very solid cyclists.
About three-quarters of the way through the bike, I realized that my bike was rattling. There is one gear that when I'm in it, my chain rattles. I thought I was in that gear, but when I tried shifting, the noise remained. I pulled off the course and when I looked back, one of my worst fears was realized. My back tire was flat. My two options at this point were to change the tire or start walking back to transition. So, I started to pull off my back tire to change it.
There was a guy watching the race not all that far away from me. When he saw me start to take off my tire, he came running over and asked if I had everything that I needed to change it. Of course I did. This complete stranger takes the tire from me and starts changing it with lightening speed. In checking the tire, he found two pieces of glass which I probably would not have. In almost no time, he had the tire changed and back on my bike. The entire time this stranger was helping me, I knew that I should have been doing it myself as there is no outside assistance allowed. I wasn't sure if it was a time penalty or full out disqualification, but none of the officials saw the infraction. (I later confirmed that it would have been a time penalty of two minutes. The two minutes would have been well worth it as it would have taken me much longer than that to change my own tire and since I probably wouldn't have found both pieces of glass, I would have flatted again.)
During the time that I was pulled off of the course, there were a lot of people that passed me and I knew that I needed to ride hard and have an excellent run to finish in a time that I would like. At this point, my eyes starts twitching because of the stress that I was putting on myself and I all but forget to keep taking in hydration. I finished the bike and T2 was also pretty quick. My legs felt pretty good and I'm sure it's because I spent some time off of the bike.
The first three miles of the run felt really good. I had a comfortable pace, my breathing was steady, and my legs felt good. I saw so many people that I know including Coach K. Her shouting and cheering and hilarious signs of our team's inside jokes put me in such a great mood.
The run course was two out and backs. The first one was longer and in the shade. The second was only about two and a half miles, but there was little shade and it was the longest miles of my life. There was some point right before mile marker 4 that I lost all of my mental focus. I couldn't keep my mind on maintaining my form or my breathing. I walked...A LOT. I used every single water stop and at most, took two cups. (In retrospect, I know that I didn't take in enough water on the bike and I was dehydrated at that point.) The only thoughts that kept running through my head were how much I wanted the race to be over and how disappointed I was in my run...even though I wasn't even finished with it. The more I had these thoughts, the more disappointed I became in myself and at one point, I almost started crying. I've had some bad runs, but I was so in my head that this had to be the worst.
Right at the six mile marker, one of the spectators was cheering me on and pointed out where the finish line was. I don't remember exactly what he said, but it was exactly what I needed to hear at that moment to bring me back and try to finish strong. As I neared the finish line, I saw Coach K again and she strapped on her back pack and ran with me to the finishing shoot. Again, it was exactly what I needed at that moment.
My finish time was 3:33:53. Although I was completely disappointed in my own race, so many of my teammates did absolutely amazing, including one woman who placed ninth in our age group. I thought it was more important to focus on their success to wallow in my own disappointment, so I kept it to myself and tried to enjoy the afternoon.
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I've heard that in order to start training for the next race, you have to forget the previous. I am definitely keeping the lessons learned (hydrate more on the bike, get out of my head, keep working on my run) but I'm over my disappointment and ready to start training again. I also want to improve my fitness level before my next race too. I just don't feel as strong or fast as I have previously. I guess it's back to CrossFit for me!
I should probably also mention the shenanigans on Sunday night...so much fun, friends, and karaoke. Well, there might have been some alcohol too but in the words of one of my mentees, it was amazeballs!
So next up is Nations...training starts immediately!
First, I have to say, I trained with the most fun, coolest athletes and friends. I didn't know any of them when we started, but now, I consider several of them very dear to me.
Since the race was in Philly, which is about a two and a half hour drive, I carpooled up on Saturday with two of my teammates and we met up with a caravan composed of most of the rest of our teammates. There's something that's initially awkward about spending a substantial amount of time in an enclosed space with people you only know in a very specific setting, in this case training. This was not the case at all. Conversation flowed. There was a good deal of amusing communication between the cars and the two plus hours passed in no time.
Packet pick-up was uneventful with the usual, but still enjoyable free stuff. I also had the opportunity to meet one of the pros competing on Sunday. (I was asked if I wanted an autographed poster from this particular professional triathlete. My answer was no, but he was sitting there listening to the conversation. I felt like it would just be rude to say no at that point. It's not because I don't admire him, but I don't really *do* posters. I was teased a good deal my one of my teammates for accepting and hanging onto that poster.)
The rest of Saturday was pretty typical. I went to the hotel, got settled in, had some food, and got ready for the pasta party...sorry, inspiration dinner. As usual and expected, it was an inspiring dinner, indeed and I shed more than a few tears at the stories we heard.
After dinner, we met with our coaches and had the chance to exchange some gifts. One of my mentees was celebrating her birthday THAT VERY DAY and we had the chance to celebrate that too. She almost got a little teary-eyed when reading the card...it made my heart smile that she was so touched.
 |
| Isn't that a handsome looking team? |
Saturday night was quiet, hanging out with my roommate and in general, getting ready for race day. We had to be in the lobby and ready to go by 4:15 AM on Sunday, so I tried to prep everything on Saturday night.
 |
| This is my hotel transition area. I like how the backs of my bike shoes are so reflective. |
We started our ride to transition promptly at 4:30 AM. It was very peaceful and somewhat surreal to be riding through the streets of Philly at that early hour. Nothing was open. There were only a few people on the streets and most of them were police officers. It was a surprisingly relaxing way to get to transition.
It was a beautiful morning once I got to transition. Everyone around me was friendly and transition was surprisingly spacious. Although, I think that's actually because several people around me didn't show up. (As an aside, who would do that? Why would you register for an event and then not show?)
 |
| Transition! I had no idea that there were so many reflective areas on my bike and shoes! |
We were there plenty early, so there was a good deal of time to chill out, use the porta-potties, and just get ready for the race. (I have to mention that the bathrooms were super nasty. I have no idea how some of those people were able to compete with what they had coming out of their bodies.)
There are two pictures that I have to share just because they make me so happy. Neither were taken by me, so I hope the photographer doesn't mind my using them.
 |
All three of my mentees were in a swim wave before me and they all happened to be in the same wave. I was so excited for them and so very proud (we're talking mother-proud) of all of their hard work. They trained, they fundraised, and they made this experience so very meaningful. |
 |
| This is my bad ass roommate and first time triathlete. She really considers herself a marathoner, but she put together a damn good race and I can't wait to see her in another tri. |
I should mention that the water temperature was high enough that wetsuits were not legal. You could wear a wetsuit, but the you would have to wait to the very last swim wave. Given how I've had to sausage myself into my wetsuit recently, wearing it would not have been to my advantage.
The swim went well. I stayed pretty steady in my stroke and the wave was small enough that I barely came into contact with other swimmers. We had to swim under a bridge and were told to swim under the second archway from the left. The instructions were pretty clear, but during my swim there, I started questioning the instructions. Do they really mean the second? Or does the first archway only count as a half, so it's actually the second full archway? Well, there was no reason to worry as it was just the second archway and all I had to do was follow the swimmers ahead of me.
During the swim, I caught some of the slower swimmers ahead of me and had a few swimmers from the wave behind me pass. Because my wave was small, I felt like I was in the back the entire time. In no time, I was at the tetrahedron and out of the water. I realized that I actually hadn't been in the back and the swim had taken me about 30 minutes.
T1 was fairly fast and it was fun to actually see people that I knew. I got everything I need, took in some water and was out of transition in just over 3:30. Once I got on the bike, I realized that I had forgotten my gloves. The ride isn't so long that I needed to have them, but it is more comfortable and I did have them sitting out in transition. I'm just so baffled as to how I forget them.
A few minutes into the ride, I was able to take in the Gu taped to my bike and started sipping on my water/Gatorade. I was feeling pretty good by this point.
The bike consisted of two loops, passing across the Schuylkill twice. The first loop of the ride was mentally tough for me. The course had been described as having four hills that were technical climbs. We had done a good deal of hill training and I had researched the course up the wazoo, but the entire first loop, I was anticipating all of the hills and it put me on edge.
The second loop was better. I knew when the hills were coming and that they were all manageable. I was able to take in more water/Gatorade and had a few chomps. On the bike, I was passed more than I passed people, but everyone who passed me seemed to be very solid cyclists.
About three-quarters of the way through the bike, I realized that my bike was rattling. There is one gear that when I'm in it, my chain rattles. I thought I was in that gear, but when I tried shifting, the noise remained. I pulled off the course and when I looked back, one of my worst fears was realized. My back tire was flat. My two options at this point were to change the tire or start walking back to transition. So, I started to pull off my back tire to change it.
There was a guy watching the race not all that far away from me. When he saw me start to take off my tire, he came running over and asked if I had everything that I needed to change it. Of course I did. This complete stranger takes the tire from me and starts changing it with lightening speed. In checking the tire, he found two pieces of glass which I probably would not have. In almost no time, he had the tire changed and back on my bike. The entire time this stranger was helping me, I knew that I should have been doing it myself as there is no outside assistance allowed. I wasn't sure if it was a time penalty or full out disqualification, but none of the officials saw the infraction. (I later confirmed that it would have been a time penalty of two minutes. The two minutes would have been well worth it as it would have taken me much longer than that to change my own tire and since I probably wouldn't have found both pieces of glass, I would have flatted again.)
During the time that I was pulled off of the course, there were a lot of people that passed me and I knew that I needed to ride hard and have an excellent run to finish in a time that I would like. At this point, my eyes starts twitching because of the stress that I was putting on myself and I all but forget to keep taking in hydration. I finished the bike and T2 was also pretty quick. My legs felt pretty good and I'm sure it's because I spent some time off of the bike.
The first three miles of the run felt really good. I had a comfortable pace, my breathing was steady, and my legs felt good. I saw so many people that I know including Coach K. Her shouting and cheering and hilarious signs of our team's inside jokes put me in such a great mood.
The run course was two out and backs. The first one was longer and in the shade. The second was only about two and a half miles, but there was little shade and it was the longest miles of my life. There was some point right before mile marker 4 that I lost all of my mental focus. I couldn't keep my mind on maintaining my form or my breathing. I walked...A LOT. I used every single water stop and at most, took two cups. (In retrospect, I know that I didn't take in enough water on the bike and I was dehydrated at that point.) The only thoughts that kept running through my head were how much I wanted the race to be over and how disappointed I was in my run...even though I wasn't even finished with it. The more I had these thoughts, the more disappointed I became in myself and at one point, I almost started crying. I've had some bad runs, but I was so in my head that this had to be the worst.
Right at the six mile marker, one of the spectators was cheering me on and pointed out where the finish line was. I don't remember exactly what he said, but it was exactly what I needed to hear at that moment to bring me back and try to finish strong. As I neared the finish line, I saw Coach K again and she strapped on her back pack and ran with me to the finishing shoot. Again, it was exactly what I needed at that moment.
 |
| Almost at the finish line. I'm using this photo as evidence that I am no longer a heel striker. YES! |
I should probably also mention the shenanigans on Sunday night...so much fun, friends, and karaoke. Well, there might have been some alcohol too but in the words of one of my mentees, it was amazeballs!
So next up is Nations...training starts immediately!
Monday, April 11, 2011
Long Time, No Blog
Here we are...75 days and counting. This is the time in my training when I starting hitting every workout, reigning in my diet, and going to bed early so I can wake up early and get more workouts in. So, in short, this is when I really start training.
Training has only been okay. I've been pretty slow and feeling kind of weak. I know that I haven't been doing the strength training that I've done in the past so there is definitely a reason for it. A reasonable person would just do more strength training. I'm not quite to the point of being "reasonable" yet.
There have been some highly entertaining highlights to my training thus far, most of them related to my bike. First, there was the ride where I, rather publicly, let it be known that I didn't know how to air up my tires. It's hard to recover from that. Then there was the ride where both of my tires were flat. Rather than try changing both tires, I decided it was time to take it to the shop. And yes, they recommended I get two new tires. There was also the ride where the front brake was rubbing against the front tire, making a horrible noise in the process and I had to have someone show me how to adjust it. Finally, there was the time I fell off of my bike, which I probably need to expand on a bit.
As I previously mentioned, I am clumsy. For that reason, I have not ventured into the world of clipless pedals, as seen below.
Yes, I understand that my energy would be more efficiently used by going clipless, but the part that I can't get over is that my foot would be attached to the freaking pedal!!
I use the totally-not-respected-in-the-cycling-world toe clip, shown below. It's like 3/4 of a cage for your foot. (I should also clarify on terms. Even though the previous pedal is called "clipless" attaching your shoe to the pedal is called "clipping in." So in summation, you clip into clipless pedals, but not toe clips. Clear?)
In theory, it should be much easier for a beginner like myself to get my foot out of the 3/4 cage and onto the ground should I need to stop. Well, I've managed to prove that theory wrong. See, when I have to make a quick stop for animals, small children, cars, etc., sometimes I panic. In panic mode, basic thoughts to not develop in my mind...well, really at all. (It's for that reason, that I could never be an emergency responder. Yes, I am responsible and make an excellent emergency contact for anyone who is looking, but plop me in a vehicle moving at high speeds with lights and sirens, I am not likely to be able to string together enough reasonable thoughts to save any lives.)
On the day of my most recent fall, I was biking on a trail that crosses a divided highway. As I pulled to a stop, I removed my left foot from it's quasi-cage so it was available to land on the ground. Well, balance wasn't my strong suit that day either and rather than lean to the left and my available foot, I leaned to the right, where my right foot was still safely in it's cage. When my mind realized that my body was going in a direction that I had no support, my mind went into panic mode. (Think: BRIGHT LIGHTS! LOUD NOISES! CONFUSING TECHNO MUSIC!) So rather than simply pulling my right foot back and out of the toe clip, I tried yanking it up. Clearly, this did not go well and down, down I fell.
The damage to my body wasn't too bad, but my ego did not do so well. I ended up with scraped and bruised knees and palms. A few other bikers saw me go down and checked on my well-being, but luckily, no one from my group witnessed the event. If they had, the damage to my ego would have been much, much worse.
I expect since I'm actually training now, I'll have more amusing events to share and hence, will be posting more often. Look forward to it.
Training has only been okay. I've been pretty slow and feeling kind of weak. I know that I haven't been doing the strength training that I've done in the past so there is definitely a reason for it. A reasonable person would just do more strength training. I'm not quite to the point of being "reasonable" yet.
There have been some highly entertaining highlights to my training thus far, most of them related to my bike. First, there was the ride where I, rather publicly, let it be known that I didn't know how to air up my tires. It's hard to recover from that. Then there was the ride where both of my tires were flat. Rather than try changing both tires, I decided it was time to take it to the shop. And yes, they recommended I get two new tires. There was also the ride where the front brake was rubbing against the front tire, making a horrible noise in the process and I had to have someone show me how to adjust it. Finally, there was the time I fell off of my bike, which I probably need to expand on a bit.
As I previously mentioned, I am clumsy. For that reason, I have not ventured into the world of clipless pedals, as seen below.
Yes, I understand that my energy would be more efficiently used by going clipless, but the part that I can't get over is that my foot would be attached to the freaking pedal!!
I use the totally-not-respected-in-the-cycling-world toe clip, shown below. It's like 3/4 of a cage for your foot. (I should also clarify on terms. Even though the previous pedal is called "clipless" attaching your shoe to the pedal is called "clipping in." So in summation, you clip into clipless pedals, but not toe clips. Clear?)
In theory, it should be much easier for a beginner like myself to get my foot out of the 3/4 cage and onto the ground should I need to stop. Well, I've managed to prove that theory wrong. See, when I have to make a quick stop for animals, small children, cars, etc., sometimes I panic. In panic mode, basic thoughts to not develop in my mind...well, really at all. (It's for that reason, that I could never be an emergency responder. Yes, I am responsible and make an excellent emergency contact for anyone who is looking, but plop me in a vehicle moving at high speeds with lights and sirens, I am not likely to be able to string together enough reasonable thoughts to save any lives.)
On the day of my most recent fall, I was biking on a trail that crosses a divided highway. As I pulled to a stop, I removed my left foot from it's quasi-cage so it was available to land on the ground. Well, balance wasn't my strong suit that day either and rather than lean to the left and my available foot, I leaned to the right, where my right foot was still safely in it's cage. When my mind realized that my body was going in a direction that I had no support, my mind went into panic mode. (Think: BRIGHT LIGHTS! LOUD NOISES! CONFUSING TECHNO MUSIC!) So rather than simply pulling my right foot back and out of the toe clip, I tried yanking it up. Clearly, this did not go well and down, down I fell.
The damage to my body wasn't too bad, but my ego did not do so well. I ended up with scraped and bruised knees and palms. A few other bikers saw me go down and checked on my well-being, but luckily, no one from my group witnessed the event. If they had, the damage to my ego would have been much, much worse.
I expect since I'm actually training now, I'll have more amusing events to share and hence, will be posting more often. Look forward to it.
Tuesday, February 22, 2011
Working out is like...hard
This past weekend, I was watching a mindless show on MTV called I Used to be Fat. In each episode, a teenager who is (you guessed it) fat spends the summer learning how to eat properly and working out like mad in order to lose weight and ultimately develop habits to get and keep them healthy.
In the midst of one particular episode, a chunky blond girl with cute dimples had her predictable mid-show breakdown. Through her tears, she said "Working out is so hard!" Honey, I couldn't agree more.
My runs have been really hard lately. I am not fast. I am not an athletic person. I'm clumsy. I fall over. I stumble. Some days running is really hard and it hurts. There are times I want to stop. There are runs that I DO stop. And I hate those days.
Last Saturday, I learned that my running form is pretty poor. It's not really surprising and I have learned a number of exercises and ques to help me improve. The thing that really annoys me about my poor running form is why wasn't I taught this in junior high or high school? Maybe if the gym teachers of my childhood didn't spend as much time forcing me to run a mile and actually taught me how to run a mile first, I wouldn't be in this position now. Based on my attitude in my youth, it might not have made a difference, but it is definitely something that has crossed my mind in the course of training.
I have begun to wonder if those who are more naturally athletic have hard days too. Based on the fit people I know, it doesn't seem like it or do they have other hurdles to overcome? When I was in high school, were all of those students athletes pushing as hard as I feel like I have to? It also makes me wonder, what are the things at which I'm naturally better? On a bad workout day, it doesn't feel like there's much.
Of course, I know it will be better and easier! For now, I'm just going to suffer through each workout that's tough and remind myself that easier runs and warmer days are just around the corner.
In the midst of one particular episode, a chunky blond girl with cute dimples had her predictable mid-show breakdown. Through her tears, she said "Working out is so hard!" Honey, I couldn't agree more.
My runs have been really hard lately. I am not fast. I am not an athletic person. I'm clumsy. I fall over. I stumble. Some days running is really hard and it hurts. There are times I want to stop. There are runs that I DO stop. And I hate those days.
Last Saturday, I learned that my running form is pretty poor. It's not really surprising and I have learned a number of exercises and ques to help me improve. The thing that really annoys me about my poor running form is why wasn't I taught this in junior high or high school? Maybe if the gym teachers of my childhood didn't spend as much time forcing me to run a mile and actually taught me how to run a mile first, I wouldn't be in this position now. Based on my attitude in my youth, it might not have made a difference, but it is definitely something that has crossed my mind in the course of training.
I have begun to wonder if those who are more naturally athletic have hard days too. Based on the fit people I know, it doesn't seem like it or do they have other hurdles to overcome? When I was in high school, were all of those students athletes pushing as hard as I feel like I have to? It also makes me wonder, what are the things at which I'm naturally better? On a bad workout day, it doesn't feel like there's much.
Of course, I know it will be better and easier! For now, I'm just going to suffer through each workout that's tough and remind myself that easier runs and warmer days are just around the corner.
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