If You're Scared, Say You're Scared: 7 Days to NYC

Thoughts have been dancing around my head haphazardly lately, like odd little bubbles that get startled when they come too close to each other and burst out of reality before I can wrap my arms around them.  I have been unable to organize them into anything recognizable, and so I sit, stone-faced, thinking all of them, thinking none of them, writing nothing.  Eventually, they scatter into the air, leaving no evidence of ever having existed.

The Taper has arrived, complete with its characteristic madness. 

7 days left until the NYC Marathon.  My first New York Marathon.  The biggest marathon I've ever done.  For the first time in the plan, I am scaling my running back a little.  That's not just because I am tapering (and my last "really" long run of the season was cut short by not feeling well and a really sore left calf), but also because I am going to be at a conference for the week of the marathon walking around a lot.  There is no point in tiring out my legs a whole bunch this week when I'll be running-a-little-yet-walking-a-lot next week.


Sure sign that it's marathon time!

This is where I really enjoy the break, but it's also where I begin to worry a little.  The worry isn't whether I can run 26.2 miles; not only have I done that 5 times over the last 7 years, some of that while at my illest (I'm a living breathing Beastie Boys song), I've done it within the last few months, sometimes over just 36-72 hours.

No, at this point the question - the inevitable question - is can I really make my goal? 

I only run 1 marathon a year most years, so I don't have the luxury of having a "fun marathon" and a "race marathon" -  I get one or the other.  So if I'm going to pick, I'm going to make my 5k, 5miler, or 15k my Fun Race and make my half or full marathon my Goal Race. And yes, I would eventually like to BQ, which is a giant and - truthfully - terrifying goal.  I have almost 2 hours to lose.

If you're scared, say you're scared.

If you aren't at least a little scared, your goals aren't big enough.

I've pulled off some crazy PR's at the marathon.  In 2011, I did two marathons: one was a 30+-minute PR and the other was a 40+ minute PR on top of that.  In one year I took over an hour off of my marathon time.  I turned around just 3 months later and completed an almost unplanned century ride at an almost 20mph average. Now, I started out slooooooow, so it's not realistic to PR by that much every year, but still - I know what I'm capable of.

I know what I'm capable of.  So it's hard for me not to expect a lot.

If you're scared, say you're scared.

Last year I absolutely trained my ass off, and then a mild stress fracture and a bad upper respiratory bug set my training back.  On top of this, I faced a hillier race than expected and unplanned humidity.  I managed a 6-minute PR, but my goal was to finally get under the 5-hour mark, and I was still 29 minutes off.

Did that ruin the time I had or spent with my family afterwards? No.  I had a freaking blast during - and after - the race.

But I trained even smarter AND harder this year. And I gots me some unfinished bidniss with this 5-hour mark. And I'd like to handle that bidniss in The Big Apple.  And considering that I'm The Girl Who Once Scored Two 30+ Minute PR's in the Same Year, I feel like I ought to be able to handle ONE 30-minute PR at ONE marathon.

If you're scared, say you're scared.

I get sucked in a lot by critics, whether it's the Little Voices in My Own Head or Other People Talking Shit.  The truth is, in the end it's HOW I feel that matters much more to me than how fast I ran. I'd rather run a Good-Feeling Normal or Slow Race than an Awful-Feeling PR. But sometimes I let people make me feel bad for having lofty goals.  I let people make me Feel Like I Can't. 

I get kind of scared.

My goals are big.  My goals are scary.  Some of them are reasonable now; some of them won't be reasonable for months or years to come.  And there are a lot of them I may not reach.  But I will tell you this: I'm going to have a hell of a time trying.

Thoughts on Tapering - and Friday

Sometimes people ask me why I continue to do marathons.   I'm obviously much better at short-distance events, and they really can take a lot out of you.

Although cycling is my favorite of the three sports, marathoning gives me something I never get from long-distance cycling. Maybe it's partly my internal desire for more control.  The other day, while running along with my Cycling Mentor, I was explaining to her that there's so much less to go wrong on a run than a bike, and that I know even if I have to stop to walk I will still move forward.  On a bike, though, so many things can happen that are out of your control: your chain can drop; your tire can pop; your gears can fail you.  And if you need to rest, tough.  You gotta keep pedaling or you don't move.

And, while I also love to swim, I definitely don't get as much out of swimming, which my poor confused brain still - even after several hundred-thousand-yard years of drills and lakes and 2.5-mile ocean swims - STILL equates with banana daiquiris and pool boys and vacations. 

No, marathoning is a spiritual experience for me.

Sometimes I start out the season hating the long runs and wishing they'd end; other times I start out hating my speedwork and just wanting to run long and easy.  Sometimes certain muscles are weaker than others.  There are always laughs; there are always tears.  Actually running for 5 hours straight, especially through another city, is nothing short of transformative. 

Every year that I am marathon training, I learn something new.  Sometimes it's a little simple thing like how to lace my shoes; other times, it's something huge like how much more powerful the mind and spirit are than the body.  I have learned that, while cycling is my social sport and I'd rather not ride alone, it is hard for me to run with others. 

This year I learned what a real taper is.  Usually my taper is pretty drastic (big reduction) and early (4-6 weeks out).  This is partly because it's usually been forced by illness. This year my taper didn't begin until 3 weeks before the race, and each week my mileage only decreases by 2, 3, maybe 5 miles. So it doesn't feel like a sudden drop, but instead a gradual release.

Probably the way it was supposed to feel all along.

And now, since this has been a rather serious entry, let's talk about how excited I am that it's Friday.
I shouldn't be excited because I still have exams and a "long" run of 10-11 miles before I can do anything relaxing or productive . . . but I am.

. 

The Impending Taper and a Sneak Peek at 2014

"All this time I was finding myself, and I didn't know I was lost."

-Wake Me Up, Avicii

My kind of running weather

I pretended I was a triathlete this morning and swam a kilometer after my 4-mile run.  The run went GREAT.  I nailed my M-pace with minimal effort and felt like a champ.  (NYC's average high in November is 50-something and Orlando's is 79, so I may just hit that sub-5 goal. My body luuurrrrves some cool weather.) 

Now, to get my ass back on a bike . . .

I think I have the opposite of Taper Madness.  Taper Madness is when you start to lose your ever-loving mind during taper because you're so used to dedicating all your spare hours to training. You start to question yourself, your abilities, your training, your diet . . . or maybe you itch like Dave Chapelle's crackhead character Tyrone Biggums.  Lemme tell you something you don't know about me, Joe Rogan . . . I smoke rocks.

(Don't tell me I'm the only one who feels like that during a taper?!?!)

I have the opposite of that.  I am DYING for the taper to begin.  I think because the MAJathon was such an awaited effort and running 42 miles in one week was such a milestone for me that I almost feel like I should just go right into the off-season. 

No such luck, chief. 

While my hardest week is over, I have several hard ones left.  Several more weeks of 30-40 miles of running, a half marathon, 800 repeats. My actual "taper" is that I don't do weights starting next week (this week I still do them), and I drop down to 20 miles of run 2 weeks before the race, then run 35+ miles the week OF the race.

Seriously, though, I feel super. Amazeballs even.

So I got to thinking about 2014.   The results came in this week, and I was not sponsored by Betty Designs for '14.  Of course, I was initially disappointed that I'm not a Betty this year, but I am not one to dwell on disappointments for more than a short period. I like to find the silver lining in a hurry.

Besides, I have lots of things up my sleeve.  Among them:

-I may be speaking at the team DermiNation dinner again this year

-I could try to qualify for Nats again and this time save the money to go

-I could go 70.3 and finally slay my demons at Florida Half Ironman

-I could make it another double-marathon year to start hunting down my dream of doing 50 states

 

After surviving this year, there's no telling what's up next.  Stay Tuned.

Taper Madness and Finals

It's 4 Days till Race Day.

It's 10:49pm.

I'm lying in bed staring at the ceiling.

I just finished throwing together some homework and packing most of my stuff.

My heart starts to go THUD THUD THUD.   And then all of a sudden I'm like a cross between

 

AND

 

(Mostly the former.)

 

My Tweet to Coach goes something like "!!! FULL TAPER MADNESS IN EFFECT. T-MINUS ZERO MINUTES TO CRAZYTOWN !!!"

 

His response was: "relaaaaax."

 

Shortly after that, I did relaaaaax. (Gimme a break. Finals are next week and work is bananas.)

 

Today was my final run before the race. Just a little cruise around the block - 20 minutes, easy effort.  Aside from the random twinge in my leg, which is to be expected, my legs felt the most rested and full of energy I've ever felt before any marathon. I did my 17-mile run last week (it got pushed back after my almost-3-week bout with an ear infection), and I hardly felt like I ran 6 miles.  This may be the best-trained I've ever been for a marathon.

And I feel good.  I feel ready.   For the race to be over, for finals to be over, all of it.  (How's that saying go? Nothin' left but the dance?)  

I am looking forward to the trip, the race, and Chrisgiving (Thanksmas?) with my family.

Race day weather: low of 53, high of 69 (good), 11mph winds (good), low UV index (good), cloudy and 20% chance of rain with 81% humidity (blerg.)  That was about the condition of my run this morning. MAN was I hoping for some less-humid weather so I could breathe easy and not feel like I'm running in Florida.

But I've done the hard work; I've put in the training. In sun, sleet, rain, 100% humidity, and ear-infected-roller-coaster-vomitous-vertigo. In the end, the weather will be what it will be. In the end, the race will be what it will be.

All I can do is follow some sage advice:

1. Do my best every day as it's the only thing I can control
2. Never worry about anyone/thing else I have no control over
3. Keep being an awesome person and awesomeness will follow.

And get up at earlier than I want to say for an ass'o'clock flight on Friday morning.

El Cinco, by the way, is also a Mexican radio station

 

EL CINCO HERE I COME!

Bag Lady

Bag lady, you gon' hurt your back
Draggin' all them bags like that
I guess nobody ever told you
All you must hold onto
Is you, is you, is you
One day, all them bags gon' get in your way
One day, all them bags gon' get in your way
I said
One day, all them bags gon' get in your way
One day, all them bags gon' get in your way
So
Pack light . . .

(Erykah Badu, Bag Lady)

There's something to be said for packing light.    (Of course, I doubt Erykah Badu was thinking about marathon racing when she recorded the song.)  There's less to worry about.  There's less chafing.  There's less to lose. 

I've always hated carrying and wearing a lot of junk; that's why I dress so light for races with 28-degree weather.  But nutrition and health supplies were a different story. I needed a pack of chews per hour, ibuprofen, my inhaler, an armband with my cell phone.  At the beginning of a race, it was always a struggle to find a place to stick the bags of chews so they wouldn't bounce uproariously across my back and ass.  I almost felt like I had to wear a second bra for my bouncing back-boobs. 

Another line in the Badu song says, "bag lady, you gon' miss your bus. You can't hurrry up - 'cause you got too much stuff." 

And that's one of the reasons that things are a lot different this time.  I want to go faster.  I want to learn how to really race a marathon.

So this is going to be the lightest I've ever traveled on marathon day.  I may leave my inhaler in my emergency bag with the B, because the highs that day are in the 70's, and I'm not likely to have an attack.  I don't need many chews because I've been training on Cytomax, water, and salt pills (Cytomax is on the course, and I never even used a full pack of chews on an 18-mile run).  And I am debating leaving my phone behind, as well.

But the biggest benefit of training like this has nothing to do with speed.  Almost every time I've gone out to run the last few weeks, I have felt so . . .well . . . free.  I want to feel that way all marathon long.

Unlike racing, I am actually comfortable padding my days with more STUFF.   More to do, more to say, more to wear, more to think, more to feel, more to eat. 

Oh, crap - I am just like the girl Badu wrote that song about.
This got me thinking: how free would I feel if I could learn to pack light?  To enjoy everything else in my life the way I enjoy running, riding, and swimming - just for what it is?  to be completely involved in the moment - the sun (or rain), the wind, the sky, the ground, the feeling of the keys under my fingers or the fan on my back - how free would that feel?

I have been completely saturated with the stress of all the different duties I've adopted lately as grad school approaches.  It has made me feel overwhelmed and insecure at times.  I have to force myself to remember that it's all what I want to do.  But the frustration and fear that I won't - or can't - do it still creeps in from time to time.

"Girl, I know
sometimes it's hard ,and you can't let go . . ."

The point of Badu's song is simple and obvious: carrying around all your old crap keeps you from moving forward.  I can do that in a marathon, and gladly, to endure 26.2 miles of discomfort - with a smile.  It's time to do it in my real life, too.

So here's to moving forward. 

Here's to packing light.

Milestones

Time to taper for the century! 

I said CENTURY.  EEEEE!!!!!

It hits me every now and then that I'm going to ride 100 miles next week. 

ME.  Lil' ol' me.  I'm going to ride ONE HUNDRED MILES.

And then a week later I'm going to swim 3.1
And then 4 weeks after that I'm going to run 26.2

I'm going to be an IRONMAJ!

EEEEEE!!!!

I have hit a lot of milestones this past few months. Highest training volume week (13.78), fastest 1-mile (7:44), fastest 5k training (non-racing) run (31ish mins), fastest group ride (19.1 mph AVERAGE), longest bike ride of my life (80 miles), fastest I've ever gone without a hill (29+), fastest I've ever gone on a bike (39), longest OW swim race (2.5 miles), first swim-only race, fastest 100yd swim time (1:47) . . . . the list goes on and on.


I had a lot of time to think the past few weeks since I haven't been spending 8-14 hours a week working out.  And, of course, one of the things I thought about was my weight.  I spent too many years obsessing over the scale numbers to be hung up on them now. I only worry about them if they're making a serious trend up or down. (And thanks to iron-distance training my weight has definitely been up a little. Damn you, constant inflammation!!!!) 

Well, I hit another milestone there, too.  My current "low" weight, 155, is the lowest my weight has been since I started racing in 2006.  I've been buying size 8's left and right.  Don't care if I never get smaller - single-digit sizes make me happy.




Last week I was back to strength and running, and this week I am returning to riding with 2 very short rides and then getting fit for a new saddle to hopefully reduce some of the discomfort during the century.  If this still doesn't help, I am riding the metric route.  And, after that's done, I'm off the bike for a while and reducing my rides to 1-2 a week in anticipation of run and swim volume increasing (thanks, 5k swim and marathon!) and to help the saddle sores/bruises finish healing.

5k swim is the week after the century.  With the extra time off, I have also devised a stratgey to reduce my swim to the 3k if I need to.

The marathon?  On like Donkey Kong.  I've been building my mileage up so I can make my long (18-mile) run 3 weeks before the race on 11/5.  The run is going great.  I'm way faster than I expected.

My mom used to say Meggan has the luck o' the Irish - she can fall into a pile of $4it and still come out smelling like a rose. Now that I'm grown up (ha), I like to think it's just that I can see the good in most all situations. I think in some ways that the saddle sore situation (say that 5 times real fast) was a way to get me to back off and rest a little. Since then, I am back down to the lowest weight I've been in years and I am feeling extremely fresh on my weekly runs.


I was looking at my training plan for Florida Half Ironman next year and I am so excited by how much lower the volume is than what I'm doing now.

And then all I could think about was

I'm going to ride ONE HUNDRED MILES.

And then

I'm going to be an IronMAJ!!!!
EEEEEE!!!!

Float Like a Butterfly . . . .

On Sunday, I'm going to do something I've never done before.  

I'm going to run a marathon in costume.  

See these bad boys?  Purple is for global cancer awareness and the butterfly is for thyroid awareness in general.

So, I'm not going to RUN a marathon on Sunday, I'm going to FLOAT LIKE A BUTTERFLY.

Today I did a 1.5-hour run, with some walking.  The legs are definitely feeling better.  It's hard to move fast, but I'm hoping with rest and ice and stretching and foam rolling this week I can pick up the pace in the next 7 days.

That's another lesson I've learned . . . . at least one training day per week should be dedicated to stretch, foam rolling, yoga, etc.

I have a lot to do this week - grades are due, a speech is due, math homework is due, research is due . . . yesterday I got totally hijacked for the 3rd weekend in a row by the B . . . he locked his keys in his car (which cannot be jimmied open) and he was 80 miles away.  So I lost an entire 5 hours of my day including travel, meeting, etc.

You just gotta keep on keepin' on!

90% to my goal!! check it out and donate http://main.acsevents.org/goto/megganann

On Challenges, Blind Faith, & Sore Legs

If there's one thing I've learned lately, it's that we all face our own set of challenges.  Some of them we choose and some are thrust upon us - not all involve negativity and hopelessness.  For example, sometimes our challenges bring us closer to those who have faced similar obstacles.  Other times, we create our own challenges because we need the stimulation, the motivation to move outside our comfort zone(s).

When I chose to do many of the things I'm involved with at the moment, many people very close to me told me they didn't think I could, would, or should do them.  And, while I'm a planner and had certainly outlined my steps clearly and pragmatically, I couldn't agree with ALL of their advice/warnings, because in life some things simply have no guarantees.

Regardless of what religion you are/aren't, sometimes you just have to act on Blind Faith.

But the other part of this is that you have to be ok with the idea that you may fail.  And, if you do, you also have to have some kind of faith - faith in your own ability to evaluate what may or may not have been in your control, and to move on.

I was never ok with that part.  Failure was one of my biggest fears.

And then I failed.  A BUNCH of times.  And you know what?

I survived.

Funny thing about failing. . . . it's really not all that scary.  I don't know why I was ever so afraid of it.  Now that I've done it a few times, I've built a sense of efficacy that I can overcome it again and again.  Now my faith isn't quite so blind.


In other news, my legs are still sore.  I hit the ice bath, the hot soak, AND the bicycle this weekend . . . got to get the legs loosened up in the next two weeks. They feel better than they have in a long time. The B thought the ice bath was insane.

Maybe it is . . . maybe running 26.2 miles will working 4.5 jobs and raising money for cancer awareness and
trying to get into a PhD program and recovering from cancer is insane.

But you know?  I have this kind of blind faith that I'll be ok.

What would YOU pay to see me do something crazy?!!?

Whenever faced with the chance to see something totally ridiculous, everyone always says, "I'd pay to see that."

Well, now you CAN, and you can help fight cancer, too.

Now that I have your attention.

The nice thing about taper week is you can miss a few workouts and it doesn't matter because you're supposed to taper anyway.

Today instead of doing any of my runs I totally wussed out because it was raining a little ran errands.

I am still REALLY, and I mean SERIOUSLY, stiff and sore . . . so the rest can't be bad.

And then I also did something else.  I am only $200 from my goal with the American Cancer Society for the Rock and Roll Mardi Gras Marathon on February 13. And I'm only $400 from my personal goal!  So, I am offering to do something INSANE for donations.

My schtick is that all contributors vote - but the biggest donation wins.

Here's what's up for grabs:

1. Some of you would like to see me as a brunette or redhead. SO you (if you're the biggest donor) can choose what color I dye my hair. I will run the marathon with a new haircolor for this person. The only stipulation is that if it is an unnatural color like blue, green, purple, etc. It has to be able to wash out to a work-appropriate color by my return to work. Otherwise, no color is off limits.
2. The biggest donor can also take me out in public wearing a ridiculous Teddy bear costume. Either way, you get to take me anywhere (the store,the bar,the bank,grandma's) and take as many pictures of me as you want and plaster them on Facebook, Twitter, wherever. This one is particularly fitting as we knew Uncle Bill as a big Teddy bear.
3. Finally, I will go out with you in a very public nightlife setting wearing full Marathon regalia, inclusive of race numbers from all my races in 2010, and will be your personal beer wench. As an added bonus, I will be required to run everywhere that evening - even to fetch drinks.

If you'd like to see me do one of these, even if you're not local and you'd just like to see the pictures,follow the link to donate!

Thanks to everyone who has already participated! I'll announce the winner in a future email. :-)

Training for a marathon is nowhere near as tough as battling cancer.

--

To Donate and Follow My Training for New Orleans, Please Visit My ACS Webpage: http://megganann.blogspot.com/

For More Information on Cancer Research and Prevention: http://www.cancer.org/

For More Information on Mary Kay visit http://www.marykay.com/megganann

It's THAT TIME AGAIN

GUESS WHAT?

GUESS WHAT TIME IT IS?

. . . .What time is it?

TAPER TIME!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Today, I finished the last long run of my plan.  This plan was totally different than my past few plans - those plans usually focused on training me to cover the distance, while this plan trained me to be faster and more efficient.  That being said, it was EXTREMELY weird that my two longest runs of the plan were 3 hours.  The most ground I covered during either was 14-15 miles.  Compare that to the 17-20 mile long runs of my last few plans.

It was hard for me to get used to this plan, and I have to admit that I was doubting myself for a LOT of the plan.  How can I cover 26.2 miles when I'm only going 14-15? I kept thinking.  Nonetheless, the coaches were convinced I could, so I rolled with it.  Dills made a good point: racing hurts, so regardless of how long I go on race day compared to when I trained . . . it's going to hurt.

Then, yesterday, when I started building my plan for FL Half Ironman 2011, I accidentally re-tooled the last part of my training plan for the marathon when I inserted the first part of the 70.3 training.  In doing so, some of my planned runs were reduced or deleted.  I had selected "moderate" training versus "difficult" because there is no way I'll have time to train aggressively at THREE sports, whereas with just running it was pretty much let 'er rip.  This left me with the realization that, despite the absence of 17-20 mile runs . . .

This plan has been really freaking aggressive.

I'm really excited to realize that.  I have absolutely NO WAY to predict pace, because my training runs have been so different, but think I'm going to PR.

And NOW. . . time to TAPER!

TAPER MADNESS!!! EEEEE!!!!

First of all, let me thank those of you who have already generously contributed to the cause. There are not enough words to express my gratitude! Your dollars will help the American Cancer Society continue its research and provide valuable services to patients. My family and I understand firsthand how valuable these services are. You're making it possible for me to take my trip to Mardi Gras with my Uncle Bill for the benefit of the ACS.

Second, if you or someone you know has been affected by cancer, I would be HONORED to wear the name of you or your loved one on my shirt at the race! Please let me know if you would like me to memorialize or celebrate you/them.

Finally, training for the marathon OFFICIALLY begins in two weeks. I am currently going through my triathlon taper. A taper, as some of you know, is when your training cycle ends and a race approaches . . . subsequently, your training volume is reduced.I AM GOING CRAZY!!! Going from training 6-10 hours a week to only a few days for shorter distances is a true mental challenge.

It is hard not to succumb to the beast I call TAPER MADNESS . . . the irrational fear that I'm getting fat and out of shape, and at the same time it can be easy to let 2 or 3 rest days snowball into 5 or 6.  As my last triathlon of 2010 is next weekend, my focus will be shifting strictly to marathon training . . . with the occasional bike ride, swim, weight session or yoga class.
--

To Donate and Follow My Training for New Orleans, Please Visit My ACS Webpage
For More Information on Cancer Research and Prevention:
For More Information on Mary Kay

Twinkies

The other day, I'm out on my last 3-hour ride of the season.  I'm cooking along doing a good 16-17mph, on my own, despite traffic stops, and I'm past mile 40, when it occurs to me that I am moving faster at mile 40 than I've ever moved at the Olympic distance.

You read right - I once needed all my marbles to ride 25 miles at >15mph.  Now I can do that for 50.

So I decided, as usual, to be Cap'n Tough Nuts and go for it - the big 5-0.

Except that around mile 49.6 I have to stop and get off the bike because my legs(quads especially) feel like someone put them in a vice grip.

I finished the 50 miles and slapped on my running shoes, but it was more of a waddle than a run.

So I say to Nuk, "does it still count as a brick if you walk 90% of the run?"

To which Nuk replies, "Of course.  A brick is defined as any workout where you do two sports back-to-back that make you crave Twinkies."

Twinkies?

Well, I hate eating until about an hour after a big workout anyway, but I really hate Twinkies.  So, for me, a brick is defined as any workout where you do two sports back-to-back that make you crave cheeseburgers.   (Of course, at my house, cheeseburgers are made with fresh veggies, extra lean beef and low-fat cheese.)

Which brings me to taper week.

I've logged around a 7-hour training week the past two weeks.  My rides have been 2-3 hours.  I'm pretty prepared for this whole taper.  I'm not even antsy about cutting my volume a little - I'm damn ready.

About those cheeseburgers . . .

Generally, I'm good with my diet.  Since my thyroid medication started stabilizing, I've been losing weight slowly but contsistently.  Which is something of a victory for me, because people often think I must be a terrible eater if I work out this much and I'm not thin.  I'm finally looking "normal," again - meaning, not thin, but not bloated and ill.

But I also don't believe in deprivation.  I have a couple days a week where I let myself eat what I want within reason.  Since my training volume will be cut in half, or less, that couple days a week is going to have to drop to a day or less.

That's gonna be tough.

The sugar cookies I baked my coworkers are boxed up.  There is a reason I don't keep those suckers around . . . .

Check out my ACS webpage for marathon updates.

Until then, TAPER TIME!!!!

Nutrition: The Fourth Discipline

The first thing people do when I tell them I'm a triathlete is (either silently or verbally) question my truthfulness. No one can believe that someone this heavy actually completes triathlons. And most people automatically assume that, because I'm heavy, I'm not disciplined. They figure, Well, you're fat. It's either because you eat too much or don't exercise enough - it's always a sign that you don't take care of yourself.

Well, this may come as a shock to you, but I'm actually going to agree with those bastards for once. I am not very disciplined.

Put stock in astrology? If so, I'm the poster child for my sign. According to astrology.com: "Sagittarius, the ninth Sign of the Zodiac, is the home of the wanderers of the Zodiac..........Once these folks start to feel hemmed in, they'll become impatient and difficult." Although most of us are natural athletes, Sagittarians despise boundaries, restraints, and regulations. We are free-wheeling optimists who fall prey easily to wanderlust, and we purportedly possess great passion and sponaneity, but little love for authority or commitment.

Not the greatest qualities in a triathlete, huh? I mean, think about it: training requires a commitment to hours of rigorous activity (under less than ideal conditions, on many occasions). It removes or relocates many other priorities in one's schedule. Only so much of it can be sacrificed, shuffled, or "winged" before a race becomes unsafe or impossible to finish. And it's not just training hours. Unlike, say, football or golf, a triathlete will lose monumental speed and ability by getting bulkier, which means efficient strength training and proper nutrition are a must. All of those factors amount to a relatively hefty commitment, even for athletes training at Olympic or Sprint distances. Commitment and discipline are really good friends. Free spirits are not really good friends with commitment and discipline.

So, every time I read Friel's chapter in Going Long called Nutrition: The Fourth Discipline, I cringe. Part of this is because I am the epitomy of a free spirit, and the very word "discipline" makes me quiver. Part of this is because I feel nervous when pressured in any way to focus on my eating habits - after all, I'm naturally geared toward food obsession. And, like most of us, my eating is also the first thing to go out the window when I feel ill, or my schedule gets packed, or I get stressed. In fact, one of the biggest reasons I train is because training is slowly helping me to develop a healthier relationship with food. The effects of poor or inappropriate nutrition are almost immediately evident in daily training, and especially during races - everything from the amounts and varieties we consume to the intervals at which we consume them. The key, for me, to improving my relationship with food (and its relationship to my training), is to understand and accept food as fuel for the proper functioning of my body, as opposed to a treat, an emotional outlet or a celebratory tool.

This has been a very long and difficult road for me to travel. I have always been the type of eater who eats great quantities but naturally chooses healthier foods, especially considering that my family was vegan while I was in high school and lacto-ovo vegetarian until I moved away from home. (Although, that's also one of the roots of my eating problem, but I digress.) Last year, I was close to my average weight (about 30 lbs lighter than I am now), and my habits were easy to maintain. Losing weight steadily, I was certain that training harder would return me to proper form, although - and this is VERY important to say - my reason for training was NEVER to lose weight. My hope was to be too light for the Athena category by St. Anthony's in April. However, from late summer through early spring, a series of flare-ups, medication changes, lifestyle changes and tendencies toward my old disordered eating patterns actually put me at a weight around 10 pounds heavier than I was at this time in 2007. You can imagine the anxiety this added to my already stressful life: medical problems, personal problems, training struggles - then add the weight gain and all the correlated self-esteem damage, the difficulty dressing for work and the simple fact that training was more physically painful. Of course - and I am NOT proud to admit this - the end result was the adoption of even poorer eating habits as the stressors pushed me farther and farther back.

It isn't for lack of knowledge. Being a disordered eater, I know more about nutrition than you can probably imagine. More than most people - even athletes - would like to know. My years of obsessing about food have educated me on carbs, fats, protein, veggies, grains, the best time to eat, and all manners of weight-maintenance habits including food-journaling, portioning, deprivation, non-deprivation, and just about every mental trick in the book(s). But putting all that knowledge into practice is nothing short of miraculous, especially when my eating is so intrinsically linked to my emotional well-being and other health concerns.

It really is a discipline.

And I am struggling with discipline right now. It's enough for me to just get out of bed, train a few times a week, work without falling alseep at my desk, and repeat the process the following week. Let alone to have to watch my nutrition and not feel offended by people looking at me like a freak because I barely fit an XL top but I'm talking about training for triathlons.


As I've said before, the week of the biggest race I've ever attempted is NOT the week to get crazy and alter my routine severely. Florida Ironman 70.3 is looming on the horizon. Maintaining the status quo is vital at this point. After FL HIM, I will go back to using Weight Watchers for a while as a food journaling tool to keep me on track. I visited Brian and company at FrontRunning Sports today and had my stride video taped. It's altered a lot since last year. A different pair of shoes is on order. My shorter summer races (local and Olympic - except for one, out-of-state Olympic) and my fall marathon will be the time for me start working on these things.

For now, I have to get ready for my parents and aunt to visit, and it's time to tapertapertapertapertaper . . . . .

Oh, and download "The Final Countdown" to my iPod.

Like we always do at this time . . . or not

Like we always do at this time
I go for mine, I got to shine
(Now throw your hands up in the sky)
I, I go for mine, I got to shine
(Now throw your hands up in the sky)
I'ma get on this TV mama, I'ma
I'ma put shit down
Hey, hey, hey, hey, hey, hey
Hey, I'm good . . . .


Ok, so whether or not you like Kanye West (or hip-hop), the lyrics to the song above are in my head. The overall message is crystal clear - this is the Good Life. In 6 days, I'm going to be living my dream of competing in an Ironman event. {Maybe it's just a Half Ironman, but the closest I can get for now.} And the first lines are pretty obvious, but there are a couple in there that probably don't make sense because, before my races, I some times listen to this song and sing my own lyrics. (Yes, I'm that much of a dork.) For St. Anthony's, it was "I'ma get in Tampa Bay, mama, I'ma, I'ma put shit down", but now it really IS "I'ma get on this TV," because FL 70.3 could be televised. And the whole "mama" part is significant because my mom will be there. So will my favorite aunt, who is like my second mother. Mom and Dad were here for my first Olympic-distance race, so it's fitting that they're here for the next big step. And for my brother and Aunt Jane to be there us icing on the cake. It's like the universe has finally aligned to bring together all the support that I need for this momentous occasion.

I could be talking out of my ass here (and, if so, my ass is remarkably coordinated to be able to type so proficiently), but I am starting to get the feeling that this race is going to be something massive for me. And, when I say massive, I mean MASSIVE. The day I saw that Meggan Kantz was racing, I got the chills. How often do you race with someone who has the same unusual name spelling, same age group, and has also overcome huge obstacles to finish a long-distance race? Then, when I got my race number, I felt as if that number was DESTINED to be mine. And I ususally HATE quadruple-digit race numbers.

Then I went out to ride the course on Saturday afternoon (I had already swam an OW km in SW Orange County) and forgot my course map (and sunglasses and GU, but that's another story). So I had to ride the area by instinct alone. There was a point where I almost turned around, but I decided I did NOT want to make the ride an out-and-back, so I kept going to where I thought the course would end. This took me across some really busy highways, and I was getting some bizarre looks because the "bike race next weekend, delays likely" signs were up, and I was lookin' uber-dorky still wearing my St. A's number on my bike and helmet (I'm just a forgetful beeyotch). I got to where I thought I was done (which was shy of 50 miles and I wanted to do 60, but whatever), got in the car with Sherpa and looked at the map, and realized I'd ridden the course almost METER FOR METER, in REVERSE, without even REALIZING it. I was feeling rough, because my rear brake or wheel is still dragging some times and at points it slowed me down from 17-20mph to 10-13. (I'm taking the bike for a tune up today or tomorrow - the works - so I'm not terribly worried about it for the race.) I was also bummed that I didn't make it a full 60 miles, but Sherpa told me to get in the car and stop being a hero, because I already understood the course, it was 95 degrees out, I needed lunch, and the weekend before the biggest race of my life (SO FAR) is NOT the weekend to push myself. I hate it when that m'f'er is right.

Yesterday's run was supposed to be 13 miles or 3 hours (whichever came first), so I aimed for anywhere between 10 and 15 miles. I couldn't access the race course, because the Disney Nazis want you to pay to enter the Fort Wilderness area, so I just ran on that side of town in the late afternoon to mimic race conditions. My muscles and heart were both acting really weird (I couldn't get my heart rate under zone 3 or 4 unless I walked and I had cramps and aches all over my body, so I had to walk most of it). I only made it 8.5 miles in about 2.5 hrs (including two stops to pee and get water, at two different Walgreens, on opposite sides of the street, and at least TWELVE STOPS for street lights.) I did get about half of that mileage in on packed sand or grass, which I understand I will face on the race course.

As far as energy and health, this week was a record low for me. The fact that I got all this work in is nothing short of miraculous.

So, this brings us back to the song lyrics - like we always do at this time. What do I always do at this time (this time being taper week)? Get sick. Guess what I'm not (as of right now, knock on wood)? I'm not sick (except for my usual daily nonsense). THIS IS THE FIRST TIME EVER that I'VE NOT GOTTEN SICK ON A TAPER WEEK. To top it all off, I step out the door this morning to find we've had a cold front, which in Orlando means it's only 80-something, which means race day should be 90 degrees or less with very little humidity. Oh, and Meggan Kantz and one of my tri-friends have bib numbers within the same 10 digits as me.

If these aren't all signs, I don't know what IS.

That isn't to say that I'm not still scared shitless about this race. It's not because of health or undertraining, though - I'm beyond the point where I can worry about my training or medications. I'm not worried about the pain, either. I've said it, everyone else has said it: there's going to be pain at some point. It's part of racing.

No, I'm scared because this is the real deal. It even trumps St. Anthony's. This is a WORLD-CLASS, HARD-CORE, IRONMAN-BRANDED, $30,000-PRIZE-MONEY event. And, more than that: this is the first race I've ever entered where I actually HAVE to be FAST ENOUGH TO FINISH. Just finishing is NOT good enough - I have to finish in under 8 hours to be considered an official finisher. To split hairs: I have to make the swim before 9:20am (not a big deal, really, because my wave goes out at 6:53am), and I have to make the bike before 1:30pm (again, as long as I don't totally bonk on the bike and I get out of the water in around an hour, I'm good). But here's where it gets sticky: I have to be on the last lap of the run by 3pm and FINISHED with it before 4pm. If I get out on the bike just around 8am, totally hit the wall and take more than 4 hours to finish, that puts me out on the run course at 12:30 with three loops of 4.366666 miles to run. Which means there is a disgustingly real chance that it will take me until 3pm to hit that last loop. If I have to walk - AT ALL - I could very easily DNF.

I'm telling this to Sherpa on Saturday, after the ride, when he tells me something weird. He says, "I have a feeling about this race."

So I'm like, "What do you mean?" (But secretly I'm thinking, I have lots of feelings about this race, Tony, and most of them involve heatstroke and defecating on myself.)

He stuffs his face with a bite of his sandwich before he points at me and says, "I think you're going to win your age group."

I don't drink soda, folks, but if I did, it would have spurted out of my nose right then and there. I mean, the sheer ridiculousness of it! "I'm not racing Athena, T. That's not humanly possible.". And then, bless his little heart, he tried to argue me into believing it was possible, which failed miserably. (But I got what he was saying.)

After all the workouts, there were Mother's Day Shenanigans all weekend and lots of trampoline jumping with Sherpa's nephew and niece at Sherpa's family's house. Then there were items to pick up at different stores, a short night's sleep leaving me no real rest or foam-roller time before one work day ended and another one lies ahead in 9 hours. The puppy peed on the bed while petting/playing, I haven't had 8 hours in days and I'm in need of 9-12 a night, I spent the whole evening feeling like I was going to vomit (not any worse than usual, just the standard routine that makes me want to drive my car off a bridge.)

But Sunday night I got an email from My #1 Fan. And - without even knowing what I was going through or what I was feeling or what everyone else was telling me - she told me almost exactly the same thing Sherpa did: that she can't explain it, but she has this weird feeling that this is MY day. That this *is* the race for me to shine.

I keep re-reading that email. I keep thinking about Sherpa telling me I'm going to win my age group. And, while the two range from preposterous to downright doable, I find myself grounded somewhere in the middle. I've never had so many people believe in me so honestly, with no real reason to do so. I mean, I'm not strong or fast or experienced. But I'm slowly starting to believe that this many trustworthy people can't be wrong.

I may not win my age group, but something miraculous is going to happen out there on that race course this weekend. I'm not sure yet what that will be, but I'm prepared for it.

BOOK ME, DAN-O!!!!

Philly is officially booked. Hotel, flight, everything. I AM SET.

WEEK 18, MARATHON WEEK PLAN:

• Monday: Rest - DONE!
• Tuesday: 3 miles and strength - MISSED!
• Wednesday: 4 miles - neeed sleeeeep
• Thursday: 4 miles - gonna try for it tomorrow
• Friday: Rest - Travel. Get to Philly in early AM. Rest for a bit. Take the train into town. See some sights.
• Saturday: Rest - Meet up with Julio and Kathy from the Higdon forums around 1:30 to hit up the race expo. Dinner at Maggiano's with the Higdonites at 3:30p
• Sunday: RACE

I'm sick as hell. I've worked 9-12-hour days for the last 10 days, partying and studying like a college kid, and the result is a bad cold. Tomorrow I'm going to spend my day in my payamas, studying, making my packing list, and sleeping as much as I want. I may go out and get a map of the Philly area to help me plan my explorations, or celebrate my trip by getting an outfit for it . . . but as shitty as I feel right now, I doubt I'll be leaving the house for much more than food. I'm not even worried about my training runs. I just want to get plenty of sleep so I can make it through the race.

It's been a helluva week. I've been so occupied by all the crap going on that I haven't even been able to get psyched up for all the crap that's yet to GO on. Next weekend, I celebrate T-Day with my parents, the following weekend is my birthday and then . . . the monthlong celebration of me is over. The IMOF hasn't been going exactly as I planned . . . but I kinda wouldn't trade it.