I am considering being a Team in Training member, and sent in the postcard to attend their info/kick-off meeting at the Embassy Suites in Alpharetta next month. I usually don't like being, or feeling, obligated to fund raise, and, at this time, is not going to be easy to get people to contribute when we're all trying to find ways to save money. Aside from their presence in my mail box, at packet pickups at various races, and the purple shirts in events, it's only been suggested to me once by a friend to join the group.
So I thought I'd ask all of you about any experience you've had with TNT. Whether you've contributed, been a member, known a member, or went to their info meetings. Is it worth it, are there better causes with similar training/coaching ability, how do they determine how much money you raise, and how much time will it take out of my weeks?
Tuesday, October 6, 2009
Sunday, October 4, 2009
LOL tri
John and I are two-time triathletes!
Race prep:
Saturday, John and I had to drop our bikes a day early, as per their rules for the race, and pickup our packets, which included freebie snacks, swim caps, race bib, stickers for our bikes and helmets, and our timing chip. The sites for the Lake Lanier Islands Resort are beautiful! The water was a clear blue, ships were still docked in the marina, they had started putting out their Christmas decoration, including lights on the lines of the suspension bridge. On the way out of town, we ended up driving down a narrow, dirt and gravel path, which haunts us later.
We stopped at Whole Foods to get the fixins for our homemade spaghetti carbo-load dinner. John was making meatballs and sauce, I was making garlic bread, and we invited our neighbors over. While John was up to his elbows in diced onions and cooking sausage, we remembered our meatballs needed to be altered to keep pork out of the recipe. So I had to run to the store again. I pulled out of the driveway in the van, and heard a funny rubbing rubber noise. I stop and look out the door, and I've got a flat (from that dirt road trip). I pulled the van back into the driveway, shouted into John that I had a flat and took his car. I got some chicken sausage, donuts for the next morning for James and milk, came home, and John said he couldn't use the chicken sausage because it was fully cooked. Back to the store again, and this time, his car needed gas. Grrr... After cleaning up dinner and playing some wii with our neighbors, John transformed my flat into a hoopdie-mobile! Woohoo! I've never owned a hoopdie!
Race day:
Couldn't sleep from 3am to 4am for some reason, and my alarm was set to go off at 4:30. We let the sitter in, and showed her to the guest room to sleep until James woke up, the hit the road at 5am. We arrived at the resort at 5:40 and headed to the transition area. We got to walk through the water park, which was closed for the season, and we joked about how cold it was: "man, I'm cold... let's go swimming!"
My favorite part of setting up is talking to others around you. I met women on their first time doing a triathlon, using borrowed bikes, wondering what that announcer guy means by "tire down" side so they could set up their gear on the correct side (entirely too many rules for this race), and finding a spare set of goggles for someone who'd forgotten theirs. Marking "your" rack in transition is a fun thing to see, too. Some people moved the cardboard box trash cans to their aisle, sidewalk chalk to make a big arrow pointing to their bike, and balloons. At the beach, we met a lady and her friend who were both first timers, and one of them had just found out she was pregnant, but still into racing today. Another lady was saying she had been doing triathlons for 3 years and she was up to 15, having done 7 all the previous season, and that was too much for her. I saw one lady who'd been misunderstood at the body marking station, and got her age written on the calf "73" instead of her real age, 33. We told her she looked great for her age, laughing, and said "she's had work done."
Here's a pic of John and I before the race in transition area.
Surprisingly, the 71.5-degree water felt better than the air. John exited the water with the group who'd started in the wave after his, and I spent much of the swim on my back. Apparently, I can't handle all the nervous energy of a race, and that makes me not able to regulate my breathing in swimming. Plus, swimming on my back makes me quite disoriented and dizzy when I need to get out of the water and run up a nasty hill towards transition. Drunken sailor triathlete that I am.
Out on the bike, people were hopping off to walk their bikes up a hill (what!? Who does that on a race?!), and at about 3-4 miles from my starting the bike, John shouts to me on his way back in, "Hey, Karen!!" Yay! Part of the bike path was on a 4-lane, divided highway, with one lane closed off for the triathlon, but funny thing was, that this was a popular stretch of road for biking, and there was a team of cyclists out on their Sunday morning ride, going faster than us, slowing down traffic, and being able to draft off each other (illegal in triathlons). Kind of funny how we tie up traffic. I tried my freebie hammer gel and, because littering on the route was against the rules, I had to stuff the wrapper back into the waste (waist - but punnier as waste) band of my shorts. Good burst of energy, though. I was cold on the bike part, though, with the wind of riding, and being soaking wet from the swim, and it not being warm enough to dry my clothes a little.
John was finishing the run about a minute before I headed out on the run. His turn to sit and freeze while I raced (my wait was on the cold beach in bare feet and cold, damp sand). I took some water and gatorade, and ran, as much as you could call it running after having my legs cramp and my left toes cramp up from the hill back into transition from the bike - ouch! I have this trouble with running, though, it's all mental. I look ahead and see how far I am from finishing, and that makes me want to walk, and I do, lame-o that I am. But then, I think to myself, "I'm not going to puke at the finish if I run, and I'd be disappointed in myself if I didn't run as much as I could, so run, bust-o, run! Don't look ahead, just look at the ground right in front of you. Pick out some runner to pace with, or be your landmark for you to reach before you even think of walking again!" Ironically, John told me he also did the moving target method, too, but his first target was too fast, then he picked someone else who, while he was firming up his resolve to hitch onto this guy, he passes him. My run pace was under 12-minute miles, which is about average for me, plus I'd been exercising for over an hour by the time I started running, and I had to use the bathroom, too, making it more difficult to run.
I was still all wet when I was finished, and still cold, so I got to do some twisting and finagling to get out of my sports top while wearing my dry shirt in transition area, sort of a high-school-gym-class-lost-art of modesty. And the LOL tri? My race number was 707, which written horizontally across both fronts of my legs looks like LOL from my perspective.
Before heading home - finishers!
Race prep:
Saturday, John and I had to drop our bikes a day early, as per their rules for the race, and pickup our packets, which included freebie snacks, swim caps, race bib, stickers for our bikes and helmets, and our timing chip. The sites for the Lake Lanier Islands Resort are beautiful! The water was a clear blue, ships were still docked in the marina, they had started putting out their Christmas decoration, including lights on the lines of the suspension bridge. On the way out of town, we ended up driving down a narrow, dirt and gravel path, which haunts us later.
We stopped at Whole Foods to get the fixins for our homemade spaghetti carbo-load dinner. John was making meatballs and sauce, I was making garlic bread, and we invited our neighbors over. While John was up to his elbows in diced onions and cooking sausage, we remembered our meatballs needed to be altered to keep pork out of the recipe. So I had to run to the store again. I pulled out of the driveway in the van, and heard a funny rubbing rubber noise. I stop and look out the door, and I've got a flat (from that dirt road trip). I pulled the van back into the driveway, shouted into John that I had a flat and took his car. I got some chicken sausage, donuts for the next morning for James and milk, came home, and John said he couldn't use the chicken sausage because it was fully cooked. Back to the store again, and this time, his car needed gas. Grrr... After cleaning up dinner and playing some wii with our neighbors, John transformed my flat into a hoopdie-mobile! Woohoo! I've never owned a hoopdie!
Race day:
Couldn't sleep from 3am to 4am for some reason, and my alarm was set to go off at 4:30. We let the sitter in, and showed her to the guest room to sleep until James woke up, the hit the road at 5am. We arrived at the resort at 5:40 and headed to the transition area. We got to walk through the water park, which was closed for the season, and we joked about how cold it was: "man, I'm cold... let's go swimming!"
My favorite part of setting up is talking to others around you. I met women on their first time doing a triathlon, using borrowed bikes, wondering what that announcer guy means by "tire down" side so they could set up their gear on the correct side (entirely too many rules for this race), and finding a spare set of goggles for someone who'd forgotten theirs. Marking "your" rack in transition is a fun thing to see, too. Some people moved the cardboard box trash cans to their aisle, sidewalk chalk to make a big arrow pointing to their bike, and balloons. At the beach, we met a lady and her friend who were both first timers, and one of them had just found out she was pregnant, but still into racing today. Another lady was saying she had been doing triathlons for 3 years and she was up to 15, having done 7 all the previous season, and that was too much for her. I saw one lady who'd been misunderstood at the body marking station, and got her age written on the calf "73" instead of her real age, 33. We told her she looked great for her age, laughing, and said "she's had work done."
Here's a pic of John and I before the race in transition area.
Surprisingly, the 71.5-degree water felt better than the air. John exited the water with the group who'd started in the wave after his, and I spent much of the swim on my back. Apparently, I can't handle all the nervous energy of a race, and that makes me not able to regulate my breathing in swimming. Plus, swimming on my back makes me quite disoriented and dizzy when I need to get out of the water and run up a nasty hill towards transition. Drunken sailor triathlete that I am.
Out on the bike, people were hopping off to walk their bikes up a hill (what!? Who does that on a race?!), and at about 3-4 miles from my starting the bike, John shouts to me on his way back in, "Hey, Karen!!" Yay! Part of the bike path was on a 4-lane, divided highway, with one lane closed off for the triathlon, but funny thing was, that this was a popular stretch of road for biking, and there was a team of cyclists out on their Sunday morning ride, going faster than us, slowing down traffic, and being able to draft off each other (illegal in triathlons). Kind of funny how we tie up traffic. I tried my freebie hammer gel and, because littering on the route was against the rules, I had to stuff the wrapper back into the waste (waist - but punnier as waste) band of my shorts. Good burst of energy, though. I was cold on the bike part, though, with the wind of riding, and being soaking wet from the swim, and it not being warm enough to dry my clothes a little.
John was finishing the run about a minute before I headed out on the run. His turn to sit and freeze while I raced (my wait was on the cold beach in bare feet and cold, damp sand). I took some water and gatorade, and ran, as much as you could call it running after having my legs cramp and my left toes cramp up from the hill back into transition from the bike - ouch! I have this trouble with running, though, it's all mental. I look ahead and see how far I am from finishing, and that makes me want to walk, and I do, lame-o that I am. But then, I think to myself, "I'm not going to puke at the finish if I run, and I'd be disappointed in myself if I didn't run as much as I could, so run, bust-o, run! Don't look ahead, just look at the ground right in front of you. Pick out some runner to pace with, or be your landmark for you to reach before you even think of walking again!" Ironically, John told me he also did the moving target method, too, but his first target was too fast, then he picked someone else who, while he was firming up his resolve to hitch onto this guy, he passes him. My run pace was under 12-minute miles, which is about average for me, plus I'd been exercising for over an hour by the time I started running, and I had to use the bathroom, too, making it more difficult to run.
I was still all wet when I was finished, and still cold, so I got to do some twisting and finagling to get out of my sports top while wearing my dry shirt in transition area, sort of a high-school-gym-class-lost-art of modesty. And the LOL tri? My race number was 707, which written horizontally across both fronts of my legs looks like LOL from my perspective.
Before heading home - finishers!
Thursday, October 1, 2009
3 days to go until race
Race day is Sunday; John's decided to go ahead and do the race.
John has a wetsuit, and I don't. They're legal to wear in the race when the water temp is below 78 degrees, but this temperature is nothing compared to the Atlantic ocean temp in MA a few weeks ago.
Last night, I went to the gym to work on my arm muscles I use to pull the water when I swim. I am sore today and I would have rather been actually swimming than reproducing swimming with weights, but maybe that training will give me a little more pull when I swim so I can get out quickly.
Wish us luck. Spaghetti dinner Saturday night. Maybe some sleep, too.
John has a wetsuit, and I don't. They're legal to wear in the race when the water temp is below 78 degrees, but this temperature is nothing compared to the Atlantic ocean temp in MA a few weeks ago.
Last night, I went to the gym to work on my arm muscles I use to pull the water when I swim. I am sore today and I would have rather been actually swimming than reproducing swimming with weights, but maybe that training will give me a little more pull when I swim so I can get out quickly.
Wish us luck. Spaghetti dinner Saturday night. Maybe some sleep, too.
Tuesday, September 22, 2009
damper on our plans
John's self-diagnosed himself with a calcaneal stress fracture via WebMD (or the like), and best treatment is to lay off running. This will mean I do the tri alone and we won't need a sitter for James.
Thursday, September 3, 2009
Sunday, August 23, 2009
John's tri: Valpo 7/11/2009
The story of John's triathlon begins with our annual trip to NW Indiana to celebrate James' birthday with family followed by a week for James at camp Grandma/pa. We couldn't have it on the week of James' actual birthday because it was so close to when he'd start school, so when picking an earlier time to schedule it, we saw a friend of ours was training for the Valpo triathlon. I told her that if we were in town that weekend, we'd go cheer her on. Turned out, that would be a fine weekend to get up to Indiana and have the party, since it was also my mom's birthday that weekend. I asked John if he'd like to sign up for the triathlon, too, noting he'd only have a few weeks to train for swimming and biking. I asked him again another week later, and he said "go ahead, and sign me up."
John rearranged his workouts to train for the triathlon, jumping in the pool after James was getting ready for bed. He took his bike out from the bike trainer in the basement and hit the pavement. On his first Saturday morning ride, he went out to ride in our neighborhood, but found the hills tiresome, so he headed west out of our subdivision, which he isn't as familiar with as the east. The first thing that shook him was the new right-turn-lane pylons at Haynes Bridge Rd, which he almost hit. After staying upright after those, he maintained his west-ward path. He dodged debris from a fender bender, and re-threaded his chain after downshifting too far while on an uphill. He turned to come back home when he reached Wooten Rd.
Triathlon weekend, and we're headed to Indiana! We'd learned, unfortunately, that our friend, Sarah, had stopped training because she was preparing to move to Philadelphia. We asked her to meet us at packet pickup anyhow, so we could hang out a little and try to convince her to participate since she'd already paid, which ended up not working.
She suggested we go check out the transition area then go for a drive following the bike course. Driving the course is not always a possibility, but the country roads of Valpo were the scheduled race path. It is such a good idea to go out and check out the course, looking for hills or nasty turns! Plus, a good venue for a catching-up-with-old-friends conversation.
The next morning, John woke up to thunderstorms in the morning. I asked him if he was still going to go, considering the possibility they'd just cancel it. He figured the race would still be on since start time was over three hours away and that would be enough time for a storm to blow over.
James and I got ready to meet John up at the race about an hour later, and we met him down at the lake shore. He was holding his red swim cap and wearing his tri shorts, as were most people at the spandex fest that is triathlon.
Soon enough, the race was starting and he was swimming out and back in George Roger's Lakewood Park lake. From the sidelines, I worried when I didn't see him exit the water with the first and middle finishers. When he did come out, he gave a wave to us, and ran up the hill to transition. We followed him up, staying behind the orange lines, and asked how it went. He said it was cold, and when his face hit the water his instinct was to inhale, so he swam with his head up for several strokes. His fingers and toes also began to hurt and go numb from the coldness of the water. We never expected a small lake like that to still be cold in mid-July.
He was off again soon, starting the bike leg. James and I waved goodbye and waited. Expecting to see him again in about 40 minutes, we played in the park for a little bit and took a couple pictures.
The bike and run were uneventful for John: no lost chains, no cramps. He met us again at the finish line, all smiles, and I gave him a big hug, not caring at all how sweaty he was. He said he was glad I signed him up for this race because it was a lot of fun, and he was definitely going to sign up again next year... and so is our friend, Sarah, and everyone else we convince to sign up.
coach James says get 1st place!
after John left transition (his stuff is on the far end)
on the playground
finishing the bike
James waiting
nearing the finish
high 5!
John rearranged his workouts to train for the triathlon, jumping in the pool after James was getting ready for bed. He took his bike out from the bike trainer in the basement and hit the pavement. On his first Saturday morning ride, he went out to ride in our neighborhood, but found the hills tiresome, so he headed west out of our subdivision, which he isn't as familiar with as the east. The first thing that shook him was the new right-turn-lane pylons at Haynes Bridge Rd, which he almost hit. After staying upright after those, he maintained his west-ward path. He dodged debris from a fender bender, and re-threaded his chain after downshifting too far while on an uphill. He turned to come back home when he reached Wooten Rd.
Triathlon weekend, and we're headed to Indiana! We'd learned, unfortunately, that our friend, Sarah, had stopped training because she was preparing to move to Philadelphia. We asked her to meet us at packet pickup anyhow, so we could hang out a little and try to convince her to participate since she'd already paid, which ended up not working.
She suggested we go check out the transition area then go for a drive following the bike course. Driving the course is not always a possibility, but the country roads of Valpo were the scheduled race path. It is such a good idea to go out and check out the course, looking for hills or nasty turns! Plus, a good venue for a catching-up-with-old-friends conversation.
The next morning, John woke up to thunderstorms in the morning. I asked him if he was still going to go, considering the possibility they'd just cancel it. He figured the race would still be on since start time was over three hours away and that would be enough time for a storm to blow over.
James and I got ready to meet John up at the race about an hour later, and we met him down at the lake shore. He was holding his red swim cap and wearing his tri shorts, as were most people at the spandex fest that is triathlon.
Soon enough, the race was starting and he was swimming out and back in George Roger's Lakewood Park lake. From the sidelines, I worried when I didn't see him exit the water with the first and middle finishers. When he did come out, he gave a wave to us, and ran up the hill to transition. We followed him up, staying behind the orange lines, and asked how it went. He said it was cold, and when his face hit the water his instinct was to inhale, so he swam with his head up for several strokes. His fingers and toes also began to hurt and go numb from the coldness of the water. We never expected a small lake like that to still be cold in mid-July.
He was off again soon, starting the bike leg. James and I waved goodbye and waited. Expecting to see him again in about 40 minutes, we played in the park for a little bit and took a couple pictures.
The bike and run were uneventful for John: no lost chains, no cramps. He met us again at the finish line, all smiles, and I gave him a big hug, not caring at all how sweaty he was. He said he was glad I signed him up for this race because it was a lot of fun, and he was definitely going to sign up again next year... and so is our friend, Sarah, and everyone else we convince to sign up.
coach James says get 1st place!
after John left transition (his stuff is on the far end)
on the playground
finishing the bike
James waiting
nearing the finish
high 5!
I'd look at me funny...
Imagine you're at the neighborhood pool, and someone comes in with their bike, helmet and all, and then proceeds to take off shoes and socks, etc, to jump in the pool with their shorts on! And these aren't swim shorts, they're those nasty spandex ones that had, we thought, taught lessons back in the eighties about how ridiculous people look in them. In addition, the pool of choice for this weirdo is not 25 meters long and has no lanes to speak of. "No lanes and not enough distance?" the weirdo says to herself, "no problem; I'll swim circles around the perimeter of the pool!" After 20 minutes, give or take, she climbs out of the pool, puts on her socks and shoes, pulls her goggles down around her neck, dons some bike gloves and a helmet and she's pedaling away, dripping wet! If this weren't a real story starring me, I know I'd look at that person funny. Take comfort knowing it isn't you while I rethink my choice in training venues.
Saturday, August 22, 2009
The Callaway Sprint Triathlon
6/21/09 Pine Mountain, GA. After months of preparation, race day is here! I got my packet and my nerve, however shaky. I talk to people while setting up and look around getting any tips just from watching others. I forgot a towel to wipe the sand and dry my feet - darn, first mistake. I set my bike so the front tire faces me where I'll be grabbing the bike from the rack, I count the number of rack supports back my bike is from the swim exit, 6, and hang my bag from the rack to mark my spot for returning from the bike. I set my shoes out and helmet and gloves where they'll be easy to grab. I already pumped my tires, but the person next to me is being asked to lend their pump to others who've forgotten theirs. The two women next to me in the rack are mother and daughter and are discussing wearing or not wearing the bike shorts during the swim, the other daughter is there for support and not racing.
When I've convinced myself I'm ready at the transition area, I head out to take a quick look at the finish line. It's a giant, inflatable arch with a rubber mat under it. Nothing glamorous, except for the significance of it. As I stand there, another lady comes to talk to me. She tells me she's done this a few times before, and I ask her about positioning yourself in the water. She says the people will tend to stay towards the shallower end, since there's so many beginners, but she doesn't like it there. The swimmers ahead of you will have torn up the seaweed and muck, making it a nasty swim. She goes on to tell me of her accomplishments in marathon and surviving hurricane Katrina, and the connection between the two events.
We walk towards the start area for the mandatory pre-race announcements. They warn us of the turn that we'll need to slow down for, they tell us about the aid station only being available on the run, and tell us the order of the wave starts. They ask how many people are first timers, and over 75% (guessing) are first timers. They ask the veterans to play nicely and not grab the first timers' feet during the swim. Gee, thanks.
Swim time, last-minute "good-luck" wishes being said, and the horn goes off. I know that if I am not the most resolved swimmer, and if I get into a patch of people or run into someone, I will possibly stop to look around, so I let others get a start on me. I do end up running into people, and I do take advantage of the shallow water to take a rest. I also spot my family along the shoreline looking for me, but they didn't spot me until the swim exit. I'd read that the best method for nearing the shore in a swim is to swim until you can't swim anymore since you can't walk faster than you can swim, so I stay in when others are walking out of the water. As I exit, I am out of breath and thankful that my arms are not needed in the bike, except to hold onto the bars and shift, or in the run.
In transition, I "borrowed" my neighbors towel to dry my feet to get my bike shoes on. They'd already been through transition, as evidenced by their bikes being gone. Thanks, neighbor! I set out on the bike, clipping into my pedals while nervous about my time so far or the possibility of running into others because I'm paying attention to my feet slows me down, but soon enough, I feel like I'm flying. I couldn't tell you how many times I shouted "on your left" while passing. Or how many times I exchanged that announcement with one of the other bikers, who later encouraged me to keep going because I'd slowed to take some water. I didn't see her after that.
After what only ended up being about an 8.5-mile bike, not 10, it was time to dismount and head to transition again. This time to the run, shoes switched, helmet and gloves off, running brace on, grabbed a banana and a douse of water onto my head, and I'm off. I carry the banana with me, taking a bite here and there. I later tossed half of it on the side of the path since I don't need the energy and am tired of holding it. The run is the least fun of the events, not cool enough from the water on the swim nor the presence of the wind on the bike portion. This is where the participants', rather, athletes' only sounds are of their shoes hitting pavement over and over again. I start singing in my head; it's a song I've changed the lyrics to fit the triathlon experience. The song is one of James' kids' songs, but I don't remember now what it was. I hear from the volunteers that the finish is very near, plus I hear the music playing from the pavilion where all of the finishers are hanging out, so I start to stick to only running, no more walk breaks until I finish. (Yeah, I did the walk/run thing, I'm not an elite athlete by any stretch).
Crossing the finish line feels great, and I tell my husband how much I loved the bike part over the other 2, and how much I need to go use the facilities. I think I've had to pee since the bike started. Afterward, we grab our post-race snacks and clear out my stuff from transition.
One triathlon down, and convinced I need to work more on my swim for any next attempts.
start of swim
Karen's head is sticking out of the water at end of swim
running to T1
dismounting the bike for T2
nearing finish
When I've convinced myself I'm ready at the transition area, I head out to take a quick look at the finish line. It's a giant, inflatable arch with a rubber mat under it. Nothing glamorous, except for the significance of it. As I stand there, another lady comes to talk to me. She tells me she's done this a few times before, and I ask her about positioning yourself in the water. She says the people will tend to stay towards the shallower end, since there's so many beginners, but she doesn't like it there. The swimmers ahead of you will have torn up the seaweed and muck, making it a nasty swim. She goes on to tell me of her accomplishments in marathon and surviving hurricane Katrina, and the connection between the two events.
We walk towards the start area for the mandatory pre-race announcements. They warn us of the turn that we'll need to slow down for, they tell us about the aid station only being available on the run, and tell us the order of the wave starts. They ask how many people are first timers, and over 75% (guessing) are first timers. They ask the veterans to play nicely and not grab the first timers' feet during the swim. Gee, thanks.
Swim time, last-minute "good-luck" wishes being said, and the horn goes off. I know that if I am not the most resolved swimmer, and if I get into a patch of people or run into someone, I will possibly stop to look around, so I let others get a start on me. I do end up running into people, and I do take advantage of the shallow water to take a rest. I also spot my family along the shoreline looking for me, but they didn't spot me until the swim exit. I'd read that the best method for nearing the shore in a swim is to swim until you can't swim anymore since you can't walk faster than you can swim, so I stay in when others are walking out of the water. As I exit, I am out of breath and thankful that my arms are not needed in the bike, except to hold onto the bars and shift, or in the run.
In transition, I "borrowed" my neighbors towel to dry my feet to get my bike shoes on. They'd already been through transition, as evidenced by their bikes being gone. Thanks, neighbor! I set out on the bike, clipping into my pedals while nervous about my time so far or the possibility of running into others because I'm paying attention to my feet slows me down, but soon enough, I feel like I'm flying. I couldn't tell you how many times I shouted "on your left" while passing. Or how many times I exchanged that announcement with one of the other bikers, who later encouraged me to keep going because I'd slowed to take some water. I didn't see her after that.
After what only ended up being about an 8.5-mile bike, not 10, it was time to dismount and head to transition again. This time to the run, shoes switched, helmet and gloves off, running brace on, grabbed a banana and a douse of water onto my head, and I'm off. I carry the banana with me, taking a bite here and there. I later tossed half of it on the side of the path since I don't need the energy and am tired of holding it. The run is the least fun of the events, not cool enough from the water on the swim nor the presence of the wind on the bike portion. This is where the participants', rather, athletes' only sounds are of their shoes hitting pavement over and over again. I start singing in my head; it's a song I've changed the lyrics to fit the triathlon experience. The song is one of James' kids' songs, but I don't remember now what it was. I hear from the volunteers that the finish is very near, plus I hear the music playing from the pavilion where all of the finishers are hanging out, so I start to stick to only running, no more walk breaks until I finish. (Yeah, I did the walk/run thing, I'm not an elite athlete by any stretch).
Crossing the finish line feels great, and I tell my husband how much I loved the bike part over the other 2, and how much I need to go use the facilities. I think I've had to pee since the bike started. Afterward, we grab our post-race snacks and clear out my stuff from transition.
One triathlon down, and convinced I need to work more on my swim for any next attempts.
start of swim
Karen's head is sticking out of the water at end of swim
running to T1
dismounting the bike for T2
nearing finish
Karen's turn; training
Before John had signed up for his triathlon, we had talked about me doing a triathlon first, since he'd done a half marathon first, which I've yet to undertake. Luckily (?), John's attempt turned out to be a du, so I signed up for a "beginner's beginner" race. One that says is good if you're not a good swimmer because it's in 4-5' water for the 400m swim; good enough to stop and take a breather. The race is advertised to be a 400m swim, 10-mile bike, and 2-mile run, so on my first day to try doing a "brick," two of the three events back-to-back in training, I went to the bike trail. Having a handy bike computer, I checked out the landmark of 1 mile from the parking lot, making an even 2 mile run. I started my stopwatch and biked 9 miles, not a racing pace, but a baseline exertion. Having finished the bike in about 45 minutes, I returned my bike to the car, stripped off my gloves, helmet, and shoes, then put on my knee brace and running shoes, grabbed a banana and a gulp of water, I headed out. I set the banana peel on a tree stump near the head of the trail to pick up when I had finished, and started my short run. I didn't know if, having exerted not too much on the bike, I should run faster, or reserve myself to stave off any injury. No need for two knee braces, I chose to take it safely, since I am not in races to win, but to finish.
I felt good knowing I could complete a brick at those distances AND feel good doing it; maybe the triathlon won't be difficult after all.
I felt good knowing I could complete a brick at those distances AND feel good doing it; maybe the triathlon won't be difficult after all.
Friday, August 21, 2009
John's triathlon turned duathlon
John signed up for the Kansas City Corporate Challenge triathlon, slated for 6/8/08, when he decided to cross train because of a running injury. He found a wetsuit on Craigslist being sold by a guy, who was retiring from the sport and also happened to be a former high school swim coach. He met with John a few times to teach him some techniques and gave him a video on swimming technique to watch. John eagerly swam laps at the 24-hour fitness pool in Overland Park, KS, improving his stroke count and quality of his swim. He then found a bike on Craigslist after realizing, to his displeasure, the one he bought from Chesterton Bike Station did not fit him well enough; it was too big. The majority of his training was swimming and biking, and he banked on just hobbling his way through the run.
The weather leading up to the race was full of rain, compromising the water quality, so they canceled the swim portion of the triathlon and turned it into a duathlon: Run, Bike, Run. Twice as many runs as John was planning to hobble through!
In the end, he did well, only lost his chain once on the bike on one of the uphills, and ran across the finish line, upright and smiling.
Rolling hills
nearing the finish
smiles!
The weather leading up to the race was full of rain, compromising the water quality, so they canceled the swim portion of the triathlon and turned it into a duathlon: Run, Bike, Run. Twice as many runs as John was planning to hobble through!
In the end, he did well, only lost his chain once on the bike on one of the uphills, and ran across the finish line, upright and smiling.
Rolling hills
nearing the finish
smiles!
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