Best for Last?

My last race of the season was the Chester River 5K in Chestertown, MD, which I did with my daughter in November. My performance was okay for me, given the limited training I'd been able to do, and, interestingly, my time was exactly the same as my time for run portion of the Smithfield 5K in April. But the best part was that I was two minutes faster than my daughter. We started together, but after the first mile, she told me to go ahead (because she had trained even less than I had), and I was waiting for her at the finish line. A few years ago, when we were doing another race together and someone asked how her training was going, she shrugged and said, "I don't have to train much to keep up with Mom." Well, the first thing she said after finishing was, "I'm going back to the gym on Monday."

A Lost Season

When I renewed my USAT membership this year, I expected to do at least three triathlons, and I was thinking this season might be my last one. First up was the Smithfield Sprint in April. I got a special “PR” for my slowest time ever in that event. A combination of work, family obligations, and inclement weather had hampered my training, and I wasn’t surprised, or discouraged, that my performance reflected that. I enjoyed participating and seeing friends I hadn’t seen since the 2012 season. Anticipating fewer obstacles to my training, I expected to do better as the season continued. After a 5K run in Omaha in early May, in which my time was both improved and respectable (for me), I was looking forward to my summer triathlon choices. Before I registered for any of them, however, my elderly parents’ declining health intervened, derailing my plans. I spent much of my summer in Iowa – getting my parents settled in a nursing home there, cleaning out and packing up the house they’d lived in for over 60 years. I got plenty of exercise moving boxes, but had little opportunity to swim, bike, or run. Occasionally, back in RVA between trips, I contemplated doing a triathlon, but I hesitated to enter because I lacked the energy and time to train properly. I did not want to repeat my Smithfield experience, where I’d been in good enough condition to finish, but not to do as well as I would have liked. So, July and August races passed by, undone. There are still triathlons I possibly could do before the 2013 season ends, but I doubt I will do them. Even though I’ve started my regular training regimen again, I’m a long way from being ready to compete, and there are more trips to Iowa in my immediate future. Maybe there will be another season for me, maybe not. I’ll appreciate the memories of past seasons, though, and always be glad I tried.

Shirt Diversity

At a recent spinning class at the Y, I noticed the variety of shirts worn by my fellow cyclists.  Of course, they were different colors and styles, but what caught my attention were the logos.  The instructor and another cyclist wore shirts from a Kinetic Half triathlon.  Other cyclists wore shirts from a 50K trail run, a local city running festival, and a century bike ride.  Some of the other shirts reflected the wearers' college affiliations, past vacation destinations, and even political causes.  Our shirts represented a range of experiences, but whatever our personal aspirations, we came together for that hour as a group, intent only on cadence and proper form. 

New Adventure

A special work assignment has temporarily relocated me to DC.  I'm living in a charming third floor apartment (in a row house with no elevator), centrally  located near three metro stops, two grocery stores, the Y, and numerous restaurants and eclectic shops.  I've become an inveterate walker, as I navigate my new neighborhood.  These days, comfortable shoes are a treasured possession. 

Walking brings a different perspective from driving or biking.  I've been able to observe the area's architecture "close up."  Ornate Victorian, brick townhomes are interspersed with modern high-rise buildings.  Some of the older residences have tiny yards, but others use the space to park their cars -- something the size of a Mini Cooper or SmartCar fits nicely.  Parking is at such a premium here, I didn't bring my car.  Mostly I've gotten along fine without it. 

I've also observed the rhythm of the city.  Early morning is the province of runners, dog walkers, and sidewalk washers.  The homeless persons who sleep on the steps of a nearby cathedral are gone by 7:00 a.m., when the doors open for the first mass of the day.  They'll return for the night after the last service at 7:00 p.m.  Grocery store check-out lines are longest after work, as people buy their carry-out dinners. 

There are many cyclists here.  I've seen men and women riding in business suits, briefcases strapped to their backs.  Sometimes they wear helmets, but often they don't.  They dodge in and out of traffic with little regard to vehicles or pedestrians.  A cyclist nearly hit me one morning as he sped through an intersection.  Another time I saw a rider texting as he pedaled and I stepped out of his way as he almost collided with the curb. I've been told there are some lovely bike paths here, but I'll pass on trying them.  Except for spinning classes at the Y, I intend to keep my two feet on the ground. 

“Swim, Bike, Walk-Run. I can do that.” Or so I thought in August 2002. AARP was planning to hold a sprint triathlon to encourage persons over 50 to become more physically active, and they were sponsoring 8 weeks of group training for the event. I wasn’t a natural athlete, but recognizing the benefits of regular exercise, I swam laps at a local pool, rode my daughter’s old bike (3-speeds, coaster brakes) around my suburban neighborhood, and walked most days during my lunch hour with a friend. I thought it would be fun to do a triathlon, so I signed up.

I soon discovered “fun” was also very hard work, and I was dismayed to find I was not nearly as fit as I’d believed I was. Most of the other people in the training group were skilled athletes who easily out-swam, out-biked, and out-ran me. I didn’t miss a training session, though, and I was pretty sure I’d meet my goal of finishing the race. AARP canceled the triathlon because there was a serial sniper in the area, randomly shooting at passers-by, but our training group held our own unofficial event (a self-timed swim at our individual pools, a group bike and run at WC). I was probably about the last person to finish, but I was thrilled to have done it at all, and I liked the training regime, so I kept at it.

I did my first official triathlon in October 2003, and I’ve done a dozen since, plus some 5K, 8K and 10K runs, two half-marathons, and a few Masters swim meets. I still not a skilled athlete – whatever improvement I’ve gained in technique is counterbalanced by the natural decline of increasing age, so my primary goal remains to finish without injury and to have fun participating. I’ve met some wonderful people in the sport of triathlon, and I cherish the new friends I’ve made. Plus, I’ve owned four different bikes, each one a little fancier, and acquired a collection of athletic clothing, shoes, and other related paraphernalia.

Are there ten more years of tri-ing in my future? Probably not, but I think there are at least a few more sprints, maybe an Olympic, and some other events, too. A few weeks ago, I did a swim-run duathlon. My swim time wasn’t as good as the best practice swim I’d had the week before, but it was within a second of my most realistic projected time, and the run went surprisingly well. I finished the whole event 30 seconds faster than the time I’d hoped for, and I’m looking forward to next year’s race.

Where Have All My Tris Gone?

As always, at the beginning of the season, I had great expectations. After Smithfield, I anticipated doing triathlons in June, August and September. However, the rest of my life intervened, and it’s likely I’m already done for this year. I’ve maintained a regular training schedule, but my desire to compete in an actual event has waned.

For one thing, I dislike paying the high entry fees. I don’t doubt the tri fees are warranted, but I don’t need to pay a lot of money for another t-shirt or socks and the “privilege” of finishing close to last. I can do that at swim meets and road races for less money, and less stress because I don’t have to worry about falling off my bike. (In May, I swam at the Virginia Senior Games and ran an 8K in Williamsburg. My performance in both events was not as good as I’d hoped, but they were fun to do.) And that brings me to the one event I may do this summer – a swim-run duathlon in August in Lexington. The swim is 500 yards in a pool and the run is three miles, probably with hills (not my favorite terrain, but better to tackle on foot than on my bike!).

The other reason my tri season may be over is that the remaining scheduled sprints I might have done are being held on dates when I’ll be elsewhere, and I couldn’t avoid the conflicts. So, instead, I’m considering another Master’s swim meet in October and an 8K in November. Then it will be time for indoor cycling to start, along with my hopes for next year.

PR!

On March 31, I did my first triathlon of the season. I start every season with optimism, tempered by realistic expectations, so as I trained for the race, I thought about what I’d need to do to get a personal best. It seemed doable in theory, but driving to Smithfield early Saturday morning in the rain and setting up in transition, still in the rain, I began to question why I’d entered. I was prepared for rain, though, so I dumped my stuff in the big plastic garbage bag I’d brought and put my extra towel over my bike. I hoped, since I hadn’t had the winning ticket in the Mega-Millions big lottery, I’d at least be lucky enough to have better weather by the time I got on the bike course.

The swim was 300 meters in an indoor pool. I’ve been working hard to improve my freestyle stroke and was hoping to do the swim in less than 8 minutes – including the time it takes to get out of the pool and to the transition timing mat. Despite some awkward lane changes, I thought I was doing okay while I was in the water – I even passed two people – but I missed my goal by 43 seconds.

The rain had stopped when I came out of the pool, but it was still overcast and cool. I appreciated having the long-sleeved technical shirt I’d received at registration. The shirt was warmer than the one I’d brought with me, and it was bright yellow – sure to be noticed by anyone on the road.

I had driven the 10-mile bike course earlier that morning. It seemed hillier in the beginning than I remembered from when I did the same race four years ago. At about mile 4, there is a winding downhill followed by a sharp left turn and then a winding uphill. After that, it’s a smoother ride.

My first few miles were sluggish. Perhaps I should have had a more substantial pre-swim snack. After avoiding a near collision with a rider who had dismounted to walk her bike up the big hill after the turn, I settled into maintaining my cadence. My time for the bike leg was within the range I’d projected, even considering I fell as I dismounted. It wasn’t a major mishap, though, and I was still within a possible PR, so I quickly transitioned to the 5K run.

I’ve been working on improving my running, too. I’m a proponent of the Jeff Galloway system of alternating periods of walking and running. As I approached the mile 1 marker, I was heartened to see that despite having rubber for legs, I was on my targeted pace. At mile 2, I was still on pace. Within a half-mile of the finish line, my goal time within reach if I didn’t dawdle, I stepped up my pace. My run time was the best 5K I’ve had in several years.

Even more remarkable, I finished the whole race a minute under the time I’d projected and almost four minutes faster than I’d done it in 2008. A true PR.

Of course, there were a few kinks in my performance. I need to be more adept at changing lanes in the pool. I need to master dismounting my bike without falling (it’s not that I can’t unclip from my pedals, because I don’t ride clipped in – I’m just clumsy!). I need to increase my stamina so I can go faster farther. All in all, however, this sprint was a good beginning to the season, and I’m looking forward to a banner year.

“Yumminess”

Coach MB’s favorite word to describe our strength training/cycling work-outs is “yummy.” Nothing about these work-outs, however, fits the dictionary definition of the word. They are not “tasty,” “delectable,” or “delicious.” Unless, of course, you like torture. Although indoor cycling is one of my favorite training activities, three months into the pre-season, I’ve had about all the “yumminess” I want. The past month has been particularly tough as we have focused on power sprints – pedaling furiously in our hardest gear while seated for 10-15 seconds, alternating with pedaling slightly less furiously while seated, or standing, still in hardest gear, followed by a brief recovery in an easier gear. We do these sets repeatedly for most of the hour-long session, while M. reminds us how “yummy” they are.

I know these work-outs are good for me, even though each sprinting segment seems at least twice as long as it is and “four easier gears” is a distant promise. Last year, my first outdoor ride after pre-season ended was considerably faster than a ride around the same course had been six months before. The agony of all those power sprints, jumps, and other drills were worth it. So, come March, having endured so much “yumminess,” I expect to appreciate just how truly luscious it was.

Another Year, and Still Trying to Tri

When I signed up to do my first triathlon ten years ago I don’t think I expected I’d still be doing them now, but, what do you know, I am contemplating another triathlon season. First on my agenda is the Smithfield Sprint on March 31, followed by an 8K run in Williamsburg on May 19, and then maybe other triathlons in June, August, and/or September. I hope my years of training, which have made me a better athlete, will counteract my advancing age, so that while there may not be any PRs, I can at least complete the race.

Waiting for ???

After months of training, I’m starting to see some improvement in my swimming and running as I’ve gotten faster at shorter distances. While that’s a good thing, I’m leery of thinking it will continue, as I’ve been in this same place before – and optimism about my level of performance succumbed to injury. None of the injuries were related directly to training, however. Two years ago, I stepped off the edge of a sidewalk and broke a bone in my left foot. Last year I turned to pick up a suitcase and twisted my back. It seems as though whenever I think I’m getting “up to speed,” something happens, so I’m wondering – what will it be this year?

In The Pink

Two weeks ago (blame delay in posting on Irene!) a friend and I did the Pink Power Triathlon as a relay. She did the bike leg and I did the swim and the run. This was my only actual tri for the year – I enjoy the training, but dislike paying the ever-increasing entry fees for the events. However, the PP has good camaraderie and cute swag – this year’s socks were a special bonus, so I signed up. Overall, I was pleased with our performance. My swim was a few seconds slower than last year, but my run was a few minutes faster. My friend did well on the bike course, although a glitch in the timing added the transition times to the bike segment and skewed her ride time to seem longer than it was because speedy transitions are not our forte. The absolute best part, though, was seeing my daughter at the finish line. She lives in Maryland, and I hadn’t known she was coming. She’d been lurking in the area all morning, waiting to surprise me. As they say, our smiles were priceless.

Adiós, Coach D.

The coach of the UR Masters Swim program has taken another job at a college in Texas. D. had been our coach for the past two years. Our group included excellent, competitive swimmers and other people, like me, who mostly swim for fun and fitness. D. offered us all motivation and encouragement. Under her tutelage, I improved my freestyle stroke enough to take minutes off my tri pool swim times. I also learned to do butterfly and flip turns. Of course, I wish D. well in her new position, but she’ll be missed.

Hill Thrill

On Sunday morning I rode my bike near Osborne Landing. A friend and I discovered this ride two years ago, as part of it is the same as the Rockett’s Landing triathlon course. We like the route because it has less traffic than West Creek and more variety. Sunday’s ride was the first for this year, and my goal was to do better than last year at keeping up with my friend, who is a good rider, even when she doesn’t train much.

So, as we started, I was pleased that I could almost match her pace. Last year she waited patiently at intersections for me to catch up. This year, I was close enough she didn’t have to wait as long. But after a few miles, suddenly, she was a red dot in the distance – just like last year. I pedaled hard to catch up. When I found her again, and commented on her burst of speed, she said she’d had some trouble at the beginning of the ride getting into her big chain ring. For the next several miles, we stayed within shouting distance, as long as I went nearly as fast as I could and she did not.

Then we came to a hill – not a particularly big hill, but one that was difficult for me last year. And an amazing thing happened – I passed my friend on the way to the top. Of course, she soon flew by me again, but I’d had my tiny moment of glory. Hurray for that hill!

Just the Facts, Ma’m

These days my mailbox is filled with information about applying for Medicare – a not so cheerful reminder that in a mere few months I’ll be eligible. I had thought I’d mark that “milestone” by doing an Olympic distance triathlon, but as the tri season has begun and I’ve not registered for any event, it seems less likely I’ll do that race. The fact is that even though my swimming and biking have improved, and my running is starting to get better, I’m just not fast enough to finish an Olympic race in the time the organizers have allotted. If I did each segment in my best possible time, I might finish within seconds of the 4-hour limit, but a perfect race is not likely to happen. And I don’t want to pay for the disappointment of a DNF, which would only remind me how old I am. I plan to keep training, though, and maybe I’ll still go for it. But the fact is, I may stay a “sprinter,” and I can mark moving into my new age group by a PR for that distance.

An Encouraging Ride

Yesterday I rode my bike outside for the first time since last September. Given my propensity for falling on the road, I approached this ride with trepidation, as I much prefer riding indoors safely ensconced on a stationary trainer. Triathlons, however, are held outside, so I pumped up my tires and bravely pushed off down my street.

My usual neighborhood ride is 10-12 miles. Anything longer requires too many loops over the same territory (and too many barking dogs as I pass by) or venturing onto busier streets. There are a few small inclines, but mostly the route is flat. A disadvantage, however, is having to pause at intersections to check for traffic. Usually there isn’t any, but I slow down just in case.

Other than an unexpected gust of wind that I thought might topple me, the ride went well. I focused on proper pedal strokes, judicious gear shifting, and cadence. To my surprise, the ride felt almost easy, even fun. And, when I finished, I was pleased to note my ride time was seven minutes faster than last year on the same route.

I attribute this improvement to the past four months of intense indoor cycling under the tutelage of Coach E. I’m determined this year to maintain my bike fitness by riding regularly – inside or outside – after indoor cycling ends next week.

Joyful Numbers

Last Saturday was body composition day at MMF. Based on individual weight and measurements taken with a special kind of pinchers, a computer program generates a fat/muscle ratio. I had this same assessment done six months ago, and I wasn’t pleased with the results. Compared to an assessment done several years ago, not only did I weigh more than I wanted to, I’d gained 1.5 pounds of fat for every 1 pound of muscle. Since last August, I’ve tried to focus on better nutrition, curb my fondness for ice cream, and maintain a constant level of fitness activities. My scale told me I was losing some weight, but I still wasn’t sure what to expect from Saturday’s test. The results, however, were good. Three pounds of fat was gone.

Then on Monday at Masters Swim, we had to swim 25 yards freestyle without taking a breath, or at least taking as few breaths as possible. I figured, based on past experience with the same drill, and the fact that I usually breathe every other stroke, I would have to breathe 4 or 5 times. I was elated then to take only one breath, probably at the 12-15 yard mark.

Remembering an old General Electric slogan – “Progress Is Our Most important Product” – I give a shout-out to Coaches E. and D. – Thanks for all those intense cycling and swimming work-outs. The results are in the numbers.

You Know You're Old When ...

*You hear news stories commemorating events that happened 50 years ago and recall those events "like they were yesterday."
*You celebrate "wogging" a mile in 13:54.
*You buy dress pants with elastic waistbands because they fit your shape better than the dropped-waist kind, foregoing a promise once made to not wear "old lady pants" in public.

Getting Ready

A new year, a new race season. I like to start each year filled with optimism about improving my performance and setting PRs, but this year, my expectations are lower. Plagued most of last fall by defective body parts subject to chronic minor injuries, I just want to be able to cross the finish line without really hurting myself.

My daughter and I have registered for the Monument Avenue 10K – she’s aiming for 10-minute miles; I’ll settle for 14. I’ve become a “wogger.” (I saw the term in a running magazine.) Whether it’s defined as “a walker who occasionally jogs,” or “a jogger who mostly walks,” it fits my current “running” style. Not counting the miles I logged around shopping malls and parking lots while acquiring items for the families my office sponsored, gifts for my own family and friends, and finally, after-Christmas sale bargains, it’s been several months since I did any serious running. So, I’m starting slowly, one or two miles a week, and working on maintaining a respectable pace for short segments.

Swimming is my sport of choice this year because it’s the one sport in which my skill level has not declined as much with age. In fact, I’m a better swimmer now than I was several years ago. I’ve enrolled in an adult swim clinic at UR, in addition to the Master’s swim class, which means I’m in the pool at least three times a week. I might even enter a swim meet – something I’ve never done.

I’m not sure what triathlons I’ll do this year. The Hy-Vee Olympic in Des Moines, Iowa on September 4 is tempting, especially if my daughter decides to do it, too. As preparation, I’m thinking about a triathlon in June in either Tidewater or Maryland. Both offer distances that are longer than a sprint and shorter than an olympic, plus an open water swim. I’m beginning to think I’m a triathlon short-timer, so if I don’t do an Olympic distance this year, I may never accomplish it. Many of the races have time limitations now, and because I’m not speedy, I’m not sure I can finish in the allotted time. But for now, I’m keeping an Olympic on my schedule.

2011?

I'd planned to swim tonight, but after a trip to the store for cat food, I decided it was too cold to go anywhere but back to the cozy comforts of home. Once there, I read a personal essay about a woman who did her first Ironman at age 70. She began her IM training plan four years earlier, when she was slightly older than I am now. As heartwarming as her story was, it hasn't inspired me to attempt the same feat. My daughter and I have discussed doing the Hy-Vee Olympic in Iowa in September 2011, and if we do, it will be the acme of my triathlon life. With that goal in mind, I'm considering events on the 2011 calendar -- the Monument 10K in April and a tri in June that's longer than a typical sprint and shorter than a usual olympic. There's also a 5K in February that looks promising -- because it's in Florida, where it should be warm, and sunny, and "snowless." Maybe that's the incentive I need to get past winter-induced inertia and into a new tri season.

A Different Kind of Marathon

When I woke up today (correction – when my cat woke me up), I thought the plan was to ride my bike or go for a run before I started cleaning house. But at 5:45 a.m. (the cat apparently forgot it was Saturday), it was still dark outside, so I decided to get started on my cleaning projects. All summer I’ve subscribed to the “a lick and a promise” method of cleaning – “lick” down the cat hair and “promise” to do better next time. However, I have company coming on Tuesday, so I knew I had to get out the big girl mop. Both of my sisters are cleaning fanatics, and one of them even likes to clean house, but, unfortunately, Mrs. Clean was not available to assist me.

Fortified by a cup of left-over coffee and some toast, I started with the guest bath. I washed the curtains, the rugs, and the floor. Then I moved on to the guest bedroom – more curtains to wash. Since my guest room is also a repository for items that belong to family and friends, but they have no place else to store, I decided I needed to do some re-arranging so my guests would have a spot for their suitcases. I moved the rocking chair to my home office, put the recliner back together so someone could actually sit in it, took some books to the garage, and put the extra pillows in my closet. By then, it was fully daylight, but I was into high cleaning mode and decided to postpone the bike ride/run until later in the day.

I ate a spoonful of peanut butter for energy and tackled the kitchen cupboards. Soon my garbage can was filled with out-dated spices, hard-as-rocks colored sugar, tubes of decorator frosting, and other sundries my sister gave me three years ago because she didn’t want to move them to her new house or throw them away and she thought I could use them. Perhaps I would have, if I still baked cakes and cookies, but that was in a past life.

The next project was my porch. I emptied pots of weeds, swept up nails and other trash the roofers left behind when they installed the new roof last week, and wiped off the furniture.

Back inside, I dusted every knick knack, scrubbed two more bathrooms, and cleaned out the litter box. With my chores about two-thirds done, I was starting to hit the wall. Opting for a lunch break, I was surprised to discover it was 2:00 p.m. Considering what else I had to do in the house, the possibility of a bike ride/run later seemed unlikely. And my body felt like it had already logged those miles, anyway.

After lunch, I finished dusting the furniture and baseboards and vacuumed. If everything wasn’t covered with cat hair, this wouldn’t have been such a hard task, but the two critters that share my house are the hairiest “domestic shorthair” cats I know. I’ve tried all sorts of ways, with varying success, to “de-hair” my house, but I think attempting to qualify for Boston might come easier for me. And even though my visitors like cats, too much cat hair is still annoying, so I persevered.

Final job – scrubbing the kitchen floor. I did it the old-fashioned way – on my knees. I’ve tried lots of mops, but the results just don’t satisfy me.

By 5:00 p.m., my house was as clean as it’s going to be, the last load of laundry was in the dryer, and I was ready for a glass of wine. Then I noticed the refrigerator handle was really grimy, so – like the final sprint to the finish line, I grabbed my scrubber and had at it. The pristine result was as good as a medal.