The Next Eight Weeks

Ok, I mentioned this on facebook, so some of you already know, but I signed up for my first triathlon. Yep, that's right, me, your friend Tam. Eight weeks from now, at Lake Berryessa in May, I'll be swimming, biking and running my little self across and around the lake at eight in the morning.

How do I feel about this? I'm trying to stay calm and not freak out. The numbers seem doable: 1/2 mile swim, 11 mile bike, 3 mile run. All things that I do already or can do. I'm hoping it will be fun. For now, I'm just trying to keep myself from getting injured so that I can finish the darn thing.

I know nothing at all about how to go about this. In case you are considering dipping your toes in the triathlon waters as well, or just want to come along for the swim, run, ride, I thought that I would share the things I learn along the way.

So far:

1. This from the former triathlete physical therapist I saw today to help me with my mild IT band issue:

To test a running shoe to make sure it has adequate support: a) first, push in on the sides of the back of the shoe, where it cups the heel. They should only bend in 1/2" on each side. b) Next, holding the front and back of the shoe from the bottom, twist in opposite directions, to see how much flex there is. Again, the shoe should be fairly rigid, and shouldn't collapse. c) Last, hold the shoe at the front and back again, and bend it upwards. If the shoe "breaks" or easily bends at a right angle at the arch, where your foot doesn't, it might force your foot to bend or push off awkwardly to compensate.

This is why the $50 special Asics I got on sale from Big 5 make my feet feel flat and my knees feel tired, but the same brand, different style, that I bought from a local running store for twice that, don't. Some styles offered by the same company offer more support and stability. Save your knees and hunt down the right shoes for you. New running shoes should be as comfortable as bedroom slippers. If bedroom slippers came with a nice firm corset of support around the arch and heel, that is.

2. Running shoes should be changed every 500 miles or so. Figure out how much, roughly, you run a week, and from there, figure out how long your shoes will last. If you're just starting out like me, this may seem like a huge number that you'll never reach, but you will eventually. Do this on the day you buy them and put it on your calendar so you're thinking about it BEFORE your feet and knees remind you. I suggested to my local running store that they send out a postcard (even email) every season or twice a year to their customers, reminding them of how much better they'll run and feel when they keep their shoes up to date. (It goes without saying that you should not get new shoes the week or day before your event, just in case, so plan ahead.)

3. A friend who is a triathlon pro says to take a can't-be-missed bright towel for your changing/transition area. Something like neon pink or a bold print, so that you can sort your stuff out from the crowd. He also suggests a little dish tub and a container of water for rinsing your feet after the swim, as sandy toes do not feel good once on dry land. It was also news to me that you can't be naked in the transition area. I had envisioned little Victorian-era canvas cabanas in neat little rows, or at least, a very crowded bathroom. This is going to take some planning...

4. The consensus seems to be that the bike to run transition is the suckiest. I'm trying to think of it as the home stretch.

5. Wetsuits, should you need one, can be rented for the day of the event. The company that does it rents it to you for 40 days, so you have time before your event to practice in it. If you like it, and you keep it beyond the 40 days, you keep it, and they keep your deposit. If you're done with it, send it back and pay just the rental fee. Cool. I perused the pictures from last year's race, and it looked like 90% of the people wore wetsuits in the 70-degree water.

6. Some people use toe-cages on the bike so that they can bike in their running shoes to save time.

That's it for now. If there is anyone who has advice or tips for me, send 'em on in. If there are any beginner triathletes out there who happen to go to Health Spa Napa Valley and want a buddy for run, bike or swim, let me know, too.

Countdown

Ok, so yeah, I wrote this ambitious post a few weeks ago about how I was (am) doing a triathlon in May. And then some things happened that sort of got in the way of that gradual but efficient training period, and it rained a lot, and I got really busy with design work (thankfully), and now it's a mere THREE WEEKS away.

I freaked out a little bit at that. And then I found a training plan that I had downloaded back in January (from here), and I looked at where I should be preparation-wise. I'm actually doing ok, I think. Today I did my first "brick" which is two segments of the triathlon together. I rode 11 miles and ran 3. And I did it. No problem.

Next week, I am going to pop in to the pool a few times and make sure my arm isn't going to come apart, and go from there. I know I can do the distances. I'm trying to look at it as three short races, just strung together. I keep telling myself that all I have to do is put them together, not fall down or break down (I am virtually clueless about flat tires or any other mechanical difficulty at this point) and not get tangled up in my own clothes during the transitions. And try to have a sense of humor about it if at all possible.

The Race is Long, and in the End, It's Only with Yourself

My first triathlon is a little more than a week away now. I must be in a philosophical mood, because similarities between the race and life keep appearing. Every time I coach myself through an element of potential anxiety about the race, what I hear is advice about life. Such as, "Don't worry about how fast you're going, just find a strong pace that you can maintain," or "It doesn't matter what other people are doing, or if you win a prize, it matters that you finish, and that you have a good time doing it." See? Also, "If you say 'wheeeeeeeeee' when you're going really fast down a hill after a long climb, you might swallow a bug." I don't know how this one applies to life, exactly, but I can tell you from personal experience that it's true. I rode my bike home from work in Napa the other day and had several close bug encounters.

The triathlon, like life, is made up of mini-races, mini-obstacles, and each must be approached afresh, with determination and optimism. It may be a fifteen-minute swim, an hour bike and a half-hour run. Or it may be three five-minute swims, two thirty-minute rides and three one-mile runs in my mind. I can drag myself through the swim, for example, moaning internally about the icky lake water and the elbows in my face, or I can try to congratulate myself every minute for finally, after all this time, doing it. The swim itself is just part of the race, and before I know it, it will be over, and I'll be on to the next phase, then the next. I'll never be in exactly the same place again. See? It's just one big giant metaphor.

Facebook Ate My Blog

I finally have to admit it. Did I mention that I received a trophy in the mail from the sprint triathlon back in October? Probably not. I got third in overall Athenas! I was pleasantly surprised.

Progress Report

For the record, here is my arm:

For those of you who have not heard the story, while in Tahoe a couple of weeks ago, I was taking pictures at a snowed-over miniature golf park. (Those of you on Facebook can go check those out. I'll post them here the next chance I get.)

I had my arm looped around an iron fence with those harmless-looking, dull arrowhead-shaped spikes on them, and just when I moved my arm up and over to take another step, my foot punched through the snow and the fence punched through my arm, missing the bicep but nicking the muscle fascia. Five stitches in the emergency room.

The stitches are out now, so my arm is held together with tape. It feels tingly and weird, but nothing seems to be amiss that I can tell. The bad news is that I still can't swim for another few weeks, and we are down to barely 5 weeks before the triathlon. I'm still biking and running, and I still intend to do it, but it may not be pretty. As long as my arm holds together for a few practice swims, I'll just tape it up and go anyway.

Oops, I Did It Again

After languishing (on vacation and otherwise) for two months, having finished my first, triumphant though slightly surreal sprint triathlon, I finally decided that the best way to get my motivation back was to sign up for another one.

In retrospect, I was somehow able to minimize the sleeplessness, race day jitters, and the overwhelming feeling that I did not know what the heck I was doing, and maximize the memories of that great big grin I wore from the time I got out of the water to the time I finished the run. So yes, I'm doing it again, determined this time to do it just a little bit better and faster than before. Please, please make the water just a tad warmer. Just a tad.

(And if anyone in California or Seattle knows of someone who has a 54cm (cm? mm?) women's road bike for sale that won't break my bank, you can find me on facebook!)

I Did It!

Forget what I said about the lake being totally fine. It was 58 degrees! Of course, that meant that it didn't matter that it rained on us, which it did right up through the middle of the bike. I reached all of my goals: 1) completing my first (sprint) triathlon, 2) having fun, and 3) not falling down. Hooray! More on the philosophical aspects of this whole thing later on. Thanks to everyone, on facebook and otherwise, who cheered me on from near and far! I appreciated every word. (PS- I came in 17th in my age group (right in the middle), fifth among chicas my size, and I was the only one in my age group and class.)






(I do not always look like such a dork-- I wore a nylon swim cap under my helmet, and it slid too far forward at the end. I remembered to bring my spare tire, too.)

Tamarasicle

It's 38 degrees this morning. The frost fans came on some time in the pre-dawn hours. Once you're used to them, they don't rouse you from a sound sleep, but if you're on the edge, their droning tends to supplement the alarm clock. Any other day, I'd roll over and snuggle deeper into the covers, knowing that Mike is going to be up shortly to let the dogs out and feed them when they wake up. But this morning, all I could think about was the lake.

In a little over three days, I'll be swimming in that lake. The lake temperatures "hover in the 70s," according to the triathlon web site, but I'm thinking they are going to be hovering closer to the mid-50s or 60s this weekend. So I got up and made a Dutch Baby with strawberries and blueberries, and let Mike sleep in.

*****
By the way, here is the simplest possible recipe for a Dutch Baby:

Preheat oven to 425
Melt 1/2 stick butter in cast iron pan
Vigorously whisk together 4 eggs, 1/2 c milk, 1/2 c flour
Swirl butter around pan edges
Pour in batter gently
Place in oven
Set timer for 20 minutes
Remove when golden, sprinkle with lemon juice and powdered sugar

*****
A friend, who is also doing the event, and I are going out to swim it this afternoon, in full gear: rashguard, tri-shorts, cap, goggles, wetsuits, maybe even earplugs to keep the icy water from swishing in and out of our ear canals. (Doesn't that just give you the shivers?) She's done it once and said it was cold, cold, cold. That was last week when it was 90 degrees. Why can't it be 90 degrees this week?

I'm doing something I've always want to do. I need to find a pace I can maintain and enjoy the ride. I'm doing something I've always want to do. I need to find a pace I can maintain and enjoy the ride. I'm doing something I've always want to do. I need to find a pace I can maintain and enjoy the ride. That's my mantra. Gotta suit up and go for a run now; the natives are getting restless. Wish me luck!

PS- The baby birdies hatched! They are tiny and fuzzy and so vulnerable in this cold weather. We are trying to spend minimum time in the backyard so that mama bird can stay on the nest and keep them warm as much as possible. I couldn't resist a quick peek, though. Yesterday I saw one yawn, and his little yellow mouth was no bigger than my pinkie nail when it was wide open. When they are bigger and the weather is warmer, I'll try (carefully) to get a picture.

I Second That Emotion

So...HOW WAS THE REUNION...I MEAN, THE DRESS?
(I know you've been waiting for this. You'll read shortly why it's taken me so long to get a picture up of the darn thing.)

The dress turned out great. I don't have a good picture of it quite yet, because smarty pants here had to replace her dead cell phone on Wednesday of last week, and got a fancy phone. The fancy phone takes videos as well as pictures, and the little button for video is well, little, and also a little too close to the one for the camera, so I got several very short films featuring me and my friend Karen standing very still and smiling while her father told us to look like we were having a good time, as well as a couple of three-second masterpieces starring two unrecognizable people dancing to Devo.

But that is beside the point. I think there could be a little bit of tailoring applied to the, ahem, forward-most portion of the dress, or I might just need a little more...comprehensive tan, if you get my drift. Maybe I'm just not used to that deep a neckline. But overall it fit very well, and I felt good. I will extract a still from the videos and post asap. Or you could just use your imagination or look on facebook at the shots other people have posted. I'm the one in the black dress. No, the other one.

The reunion weekend was delightful. It was such a joy to reconnect with some of my oldest friends. After all these years, love sees right through all the changes that have happened to each of us over the years. I wish I'd had more time to talk to each person one on one.

Friday night, I was composed, adult me. I could stand back, observe and appreciate my friends for the great people they have become. My high school friends are some of the neatest people, and parents, you could hope to know. Many of them are teachers, and collectively, they have a bunch of kids. These are the people you want raising and educating the next generation. Kind, present, bright people, raising good kids.

There's something that's been bothering me, though. I'm trying not to kick myself for this, but over a 24 hour period, I feel like I completely regressed. By midway through the reunion on Saturday night, I was high school me, just as sure as Michael J. Fox used to get hairy ears when the moon was full.

I forgot completely about my vow to have meaningful conversations with few people, rather than trying to chat with many. I forgot that people who ask "How?" have more fun. I treated myself to a shot of tequila. I squealed when a song came on that I knew. (You can hear it in one of my micro-movies!)

I don't regret grabbing my friend Rusty for Donna Summer's "Last Dance," nor do I regret going back for a round of hugs for the people I'd really enjoyed seeing.

I do regret trying to make guilty (impulsive, slightly drunken) conversation with people I didn't remember that well, or remembered but never really knew that well. When I should have just smiled and said, "Hi, how are you?" I said other things that were equally embarrassing to both parties. Something along the lines of (shouted over too loud, too old New Wave music) "I know you, you're _________, you look GREAT! WHAT?? HOT! You look HOT! I KNOW, THE MUSIC IS TOO LOUD!" as they tried to decipher my bouncing name tag. Ok, not quite that bad, but close.

Or when I told a former female classmate, who may or may not have been a bully in high school, en route to the restroom, that I'd seen her picture on facebook because we had so many mutual friends and she just looked at me and said, "Yeah?" I wanted to run. She looked really beautiful, actually. Her dress was a similar style to mine, but shimmery gold with a leopard-ish print. I should have said something about that instead.

Really, what I should have done was allow silences, moments of quiet for things to happen, for people to

***
and that's where I stopped when I realized that I was going on and on about what could or should have been rather than what was. So I put the post away, about a week ago, and didn't wrap it up. So now I am. Now I have to go pull those stills out of the "movies" so you can see a picture of the dress.

I don't know if you realize this, but I have crossed a barrier this year. In the three years that I've been blogging, I had never posted a picture of myself on the blog. Until the triathlon. Now that many of my friends have seen me on facebook, I got over the fact that I'm not 21 anymore. I look the way I look.

Here's the room where I spent the reunion weekend nights: