Change of plans

My question to a half-awake Doug at 5:50 AM - "How about the one with a rainbow, a unicorn, and a gnome, Okay?"

(You know you want a new sweet swimsuit like this one... Psst, Splish is having a sale!)

Swam a couple of laps in the New Town lake as part of the Big Shark Open Water Swim series finale.  Would have followed that up immediately with my Big Shark tri club teammates and a ride to St. Pauli, but alas - still had the mountain pedals on the road bike from last week's Urban Assault.  Of course, I didn't realize this until I tried to clip in.  Doh!

This necessitated a long drive (40- minutes) home kicking myself the whole way.  Once I switched pedals, I traded the flats of the Missouri Bottom Lands for the bluffs and valleys of the Meramec River hill zones West of Clarkson Rd. and beyond all by myself.  I say that, but there were so many people I recognized on the road that the term "alone" really didn't apply.  Part of the reason I saw so many riders: I took different routes and changed it up a little bit so that I was riding up hills I normally ride down, effectively salmoning people's typical bike routes.  Made for a pretty sweet ride - change is good.

In summary, one Saturday, one swim, one ride, one chocolate banana recovery smoothie.

I'm ba-ack!

I had to be.  I signed up for a very high profile 10-miler.  But, I'm getting ahead of the story.  To quote one of my favorite movie characters "Dennis would have hated that."

I've been meaning to travel to Washington DC ever since they signed the Constitution and two good friends settled there post-college (one clearly precipitated the other).  But, let's face it.  Oregon is really far form DC... well, now that I am in St. Louis, no excuses!  Plus, my performance/ pace at the St. Louis Half Marathon finally, finally qualified me for the Cherry Blossom 10-mile seeded runner entry.  I had to prove that I could run 10 miles in 64 minutes.  Ouch!

That race is April 3.  Counting back, that means I should have started training two weeks ago.  Ooops.  No matter, that's why I train all year long to maintain a convincing level of fitness (remember the marathon in four days notice?).  I thought that "convincing" was a relative term, until I motivated a 12-mile long run with a trail race this past weekend.

The Wildwood City Council put on a running race to highlight all the work (and moolah) they have put in to developing the trail system around the Meramac River Valley (Moochas-grass-ias).    The first annual Wildwood Frozen Feet 12-miler was held on a rapidly warming (from 20 degrees C, so describing it as a "warming" might be a bit of a stretch) Saturday morning.  The trails, though, were still covered in an ice/slush mix.  I lined up on the front line, though only planning to run ~7min/mile.  It was a tight start on the bike path and I did not want to get tripped up in the take-off. There was a lot of joking around about the pace I would put on and I suggested that I was planning on running backwards to work on my toe-heel strike (ha!)

First couple miles were on bike path and then we hit the rails-to-trails.  The footing here was less "footing" and more pockmarked, ice-holes with the occasionally bare patch.  I fell into a pack with four or so guys setting that sub-7 min/mile pace (it was a race after-all).  We actually did hit a little bit of single-track down around the Stinging Nettle trail.  I practiced my single-track pass and got my stocking hat ripped off by a branch.  The hat flipped up towards the sky and the guy in third plucked it out of the air like professional baseball outfielder and tossed it to me without missing a beat.  Within 20-steps, I was back in front.

And then there were three: me, Tony, and Andrew.  Still holding that pace, we came upon the two-mile uphill.  Tony expressed the opinion that he might not be able to hang on the uphill but we better watch out on the downhill.  Up and up, steeper and steeper we climbed up on the Rock Hollow trail. Thankfully, most of the ice was gone and only a few patches remained. At the top, cones marked a turn around with a water table and a shout-out from a friend (thanks Andy!).  Andrew and I went stride for stride down the hill, picking our way around the rough parts to step on the saltiest bits.  Andrew commented that he wondered if Tony would catch us at the exact moment we heard his rapidly approaching footsteps.  Forced to pick it up by Tony's pace, we hit the now quickly melting slush path turned slip n'slide for the final stretch.  All three of us kept it tread-side down until we hit the concrete.  By then, it was just me and Andrew, as Tony had made his gallant play for the win and faded a bit.  With a half-mile to go, Andrew and I were going back and forth on whether or not we were going to sprint for the finish (Me -"Are you going to be that guy who out sprints the girl at the finish?" Him - "Well, I am a winner".).  And then, in a split second, the last patch of ice before the finish line, reared its ugly blackness beneath my foot and I hit the ground patella first-followed by a hip, an elbow, a shoulder, and, finally, my back.

Andrew, in a chivalrous, and decidedly good guy move, helped me up and jogged with me 600 yds to the finish line, crossing in sync.  In the end, our times are identical, but some how I got the top line on the results.  But, what a great way to get a long run in!  I'm hoping he might want to join me for a non-race long run in the future.

Here's to the start of my legit race training!  My knee wound/bruise is healing nicely... but my brand new Brooks Running half tights have some new air conditioning in the knee (giant hole).

There's a bathroom on the right...

...sung to the tune of "Bad moon rising."

Everybody now. I actually got this song stuck in my head during my long run on Sunday and the "bad moon" became a "bathroom" mantra as I neared the end.

I've been training. Really. I managed to run eight whole miles on Sunday without stopping to walk or gasping for breath (though I did eventually stop and find that bathroom). Of course, my running schedule actually said "10 miles with a 2-mile tempo section". I translated that as 8-miles with a one-mile tempo section followed by gulps and gulps of Clif drink. You see, no matter how early in the morning I get up to go running, it's still hot and humid and I still lose the weight of a small child in sweat. Monday it was so bad that I could wring my shorts (Brooks running, there's an apparel challenge for ya!) and I left puddles on the kitchen floor while attempting to rehydrate with iced coffee.

So, here's the skinny. What am I training for exactly? This is going to be great. First, I lived in Oregon for how long...? 2.5 years. How many times did I want to race Hood-to-Coast and not do it? 2.25 yrs. I move away, and that's when I get on a team. But, if good things come to those who wait, I got handed the mother of all opportunities. My adopted team is called "Slug-hunters" and this group is making me feel like one of the family! If you are an Oregonian friend reading this blog post, definitely come party with me in Seaside on August 28.

What else? Ooh-ooh. This Sunday, my awesome temporary roommate Peter (and married so don't get your hopes up) and I will be competing in the New Belgium Brewing Urban Assault Race! Five obstacle course check points, two mystery checkpoints, and an entertaining ride around downtown St. Louis on the 'cross bike. I can't think of a better way to kick-off my cyclocross training.

And then there is the Lewis and Clark Half-marathon.  That one is looming on the schedule in October.  I'll think about that a little later when the weather cools.  For now, hand me another cold one and let's chill!

Swim for Health and the FB

That title sounds like a good band name.  I digress, already.


I have been double-dog-dared to do something that I had no intention of doing, wearing something that I had very little intention of creating.  Intriguing, right?


The dare involves the Swim for Health this Saturday.  I already told you that this is a fundraising competition to see how many laps a team of 6 can do 30 minutes.  For this portion, I am part of team "Tri-ing to Swim", a fantastic, motley crew of triathletes in swimmers clothing.  However, I failed to mention the other part of the event, the one that I was hoping no one would notice.... And I would have gotten away with it, but I was negotiating with a master-negotiator and world champion enabler (my friend H) who also happened to volunteer at the SforH last year and observed the second part of the competition — essentially a 400IM.    I was asking her to donate to the cause, and she suggested that I had to do more than swim continuous 25s.  Nope, she said she would give me $40 ($10 for each 100yd) if I did the Ironwoman 400 IM competition.


And then came the addendum... I had to do it wearing the Fast Beaver swimsuit. Duhn-duhn-duh-h-h-hn!


Let me explain.  Up until recently, the Fast Beaver swimsuit was a myth, a figment of my adobe Illustrator creation, only known by its presence in my computer's recycle bin... but the word was out.  And like any good fables, this one has a moral and begins with:


Once upon a time, a good woman designed a Splish swimsuit for the OSU triathlon team, as a kind of thank you for all the great training, and also to build team morale as they headed to their first Collegiate National Championships.  She had written "Go Beavs" across the butt of the design, because something had to go there.  After all,  a swimsuit without a design on the butt is missing the point of being a swimsuit.   The design process was a group effort that may have involved good food, good drinks, and goo-o-od vibrations.  It was decided that "Fast Beaver" should be written instead.  Chuckle, chuckle, LQTM.  She will admit that she understood the implication (sadly, it took a minute), but  felt it was appropriate enough to go ahead with.


Well, you can imagine the questions and inquiries that commenced.  Really what precipitated the change was a few womrn saying they would be uncomfortable wearing it... the last thing I want to do is actually discourage people from exercising and forcing uncomfortable self-expression.  So, without too much more ado, the "Fast Beaver" was replaced with "Go Beavs" and that was that.  The moral of the story: Free your mind, and the rest will follow.  Oh wait, that's a song lyric.  Real moral: Eat your vegetables.  Kidding, there is no moral.


But, obviously, it was a story still fresh on the mind and a funny one at that.  Occasionally,friends of the woman who knew the story called the her (we can all safely assume that the woman is me) "FB" for short, and thought that I should go ahead and get a suit with my sometimes moniker on the butt.


For clarity, the OSU mascot is the Beaver, and I do swim quite fast according to some people.  And so, for charity, and charity only, Splish has made me the suit, and I will wear it during that oh-so-painful "how-many-laps-of-butterfly-is-it" 400IM.  I'll upload some pics.  God help me, or at least help me raise some funds!

Who's your coach? That's a conflict of interest.

It's so confusing.  Do I swim, or bike, or run?  If I bike, do I ride my road bike, my cross bike, or my tri bike?

Aside:  This might seem like a no-brainer... but the tri bike is uber-nice, and the weather is often uber-disgusting.  Plus, it is sooo much easier to ride in groups on a road bike.  And cross is a great workout and just fun.  Aside, out.


If I go running, what kind of workout should I do?  Speed, distance, EZ, fartlek, intervals, hills, coffee-run?  At least in the pool, there are relatively fewer options, and, thankfully, no route decisions to make (usually).

When I decide on the workout, what do I wear?  What do I eat?  What time of day should I do it?  Can I fit it in between meetings?  Or, do I get up 5:18AM to make the 6AM start?

If you couldn't tell, I'm going a little crazy.  But, one thing is for certain:  I love the fact that I have so many fitness options!  And this week, Build 2.2, I have a lot of opportunities to fret, and train, and exalt. There's a lot of running this week to get ready for the half-ironman looming in 37 days (who's counting?).

So, who's making all of these training decisions for me?  Well, quite simply, I am.  I wish I had a coach, but my first triathlon coach, Ryan Ignatz, spoiled me.  He personalized my workouts perfectly, balancing difficult weeks at work with easy weeks of training and, sometimes, even giving me things to think about during the training.  He orchestrated my move to the pro ranks.  And, he showed me how to seamlessly weave life, work, and the pursuit of triathlon.  He taught me so well, that I was confident enough in my knowledge of the intricacies of training and peaking and race prep that I tried my hand at coaching others.  And, now I coach the hardest person to coach in the world, oneself.  This will be my fourth season of self-coaching, and I think I have planned and executed my best plan yet.

Tonight was a perfect example, 9 miles total ~1:30 of running on the schedule.  A two-mile run to the track was my warm-up.  I sent out an email to the entire triathlon community of Corvallis to see if anyone wanted to join me for the workout, but I laid the pace down in no uncertain terms.  At the track, I actually found a taker, a fellow OSU triathlon club member.  Together, we precision-executed my drill sets and added six total strides in order to get the legs and ticker really warmed up.  I talked with him about the pace, and he shrugged and said "you usually run circles around me"?  Hmmmm... so much for laying down the pace.

Sunny the coach:  Then it was time for the 6x1000 at my 10K race pace.  We started out, and he ran far ahead of me for a lap before fading and finishing 100 yds behind at the 1000m-line.   During the walk-jog, I suggested he tuck in behind me for the first 600m or so, and then focus on each subsequent 200m.  #2 went much the same, only he seemed to fade further.  Before starting the third interval, we chatted about his 10K PR and his 10K goal.  Based on that, I suggested a more reasonable and even pace.  The advice I gave, check your watch at each 200m and adjust the pace.  That's why we do these workouts on the track!  And don't try to make up time, or slow-down to lose time, just get on time.  By #4, I think he had it figured out.  And after the work out, we talked about how to adjust your 10K pace and goal pace as your fitness increases and workouts get easier.  It was a cool coaching moment for me.  I had almost forgotten how much fun it is to teach people about this confusing sport we do.

But, I didn't forget that I was there to coach myself.  And this workout was designed by me (with some Ryan memories) to see if I could push the pace a bit.  And if that's my 10K race pace and I feel that good doing it, then there is going to be a new PR this year!  Good job coach!

And the conflict of interest?  Well, sometimes when I don't feel like doing a workout or want to alter it or (gasp) something hurts; I have to decide who to listen to, the athlete or the coach?

Going in circles

I didn't start off going in circles. Nope. First, I bolted from work right at 5:00 pm (gasp!). I ran/hobbled (foot still boloxed) to my car where I had stashed Dean the road bike and sprinted to Brent and Pam's house to meet them.... we were supposed to leave at 4:45 (whoops!). Because you see, after a five-year retirement and a solemn promise never to do another criterium race, I was on my way to another crit race.

I had good reasons, for racing that is... if I didn't get some more OBRA (Oregon Bicycle Racing Association) points, I was going to spend another season languishing (sandbagging) in the Cat4 women's division. A source of embarrassment and derision.

We drove down the I-5 to the Eugene house of one of Pam's teammates on Therapeutic Associates. There we be-spandexed ourselves, grabbed extra water (for the 90+ temps and the 45 min pre-ride to the race), and bike posse-ed to the crit course. Over bridges, across highways, through residential neighborhoods, and along the bike path (where one "funny" resident thought we looked hot and lovingly diverted his water hose to soak us as we rode by... good thing the iPhone was safely stashed). Finally arriving just in time to watch the first race go off... a "practice" crit for newbie riders consisting of just 6 laps.

Following Pam along the bike path and displaying mad skills to take

an iPhone picture while riding a bike!

At the sign-up, it didn't take much convincing for me to register for both the Women's B and A races... for one thing, there was potential for more points toward my upgrade to Cat3 if I finished well in both races. And the critical mass for scoring a women's race is 5 riders (of which there were only 4 at that point and Pam really needed the points to keep her standing as the state-wide points leader... she races far more than I do!) So, not only did I break my stand against crit racing... I did it double time. Oh well.

I don't pretend to know tactics, but from years' of racing I've gotten pretty good at knowing how long it will take me to catch up to someone and how long I can sustain my top-end. As well as being able to recover my breathing pretty fast. All of these things came in to play!

The start of the B race was cake as every rider struggled to clip in. A Poplolly (the host team) hopped off the front first, but I grabbed her wheel and we went around a few times until the pack got organized. There were three prize primes (races within the race where if you win a lap, you take home a small prize). I sprinted for the first one and thought I had, but was a half a foot too sow. The pack surged and slowed until the second prime where I was going head-to-head with another Poplolly, this time easing off the pedals as I had my race plan set in my mind. The third prime came on the 5th-to-last lap of the 16 lap race... I sprinted down a single-woman break away to take the prize and kept going! I settled into my time trial position, practicing holding a fast line around the curves, managing to stay ahead until the final line... Sweet! But, dude... I was wiped!

I got to recover about 15-minutes between races, refilling water bottles in between. The A race started fast and just kept getting faster. Break after break... it was like the B race on crack! I chased down some... while I confusedly watched the girl's with teams (Pam included) alternatively block, lead-out, and break throughout the race. With 15 of the 20 laps completed, a prime was announced and I selfishly "helped" chase down a break away to get a chance at the prime... I closed pretty well into a head wind on the back stretch, passing the break and keeping going. I rounded the final bend and surprisingly held off any final attacks in order to take the prime. Brent —super fan extraordinaire — yells out "Great! Now work together to take it all." What? I looked behind me to find Pam on my wheel and the group gone. She and I hammered for the next couple of lap until lap 19 when she said "Sunny, I need the points." To which my response was "Oh-gasp-kay-gasp-cool." And with that and one lap to go, she jumped off my wheel. She gapped me by about 20 yds and we both mostly respectably soft-pedaled to the finish line to take 1-2. Very cool.

The aftermath. We still had to ride home in the dusk. Pam's teammates took us a super-cool, different way home that wound through downtown, past UofO (Hola, Ducks) and along a bike path that took a bike-bridge over the Willamette (wow!). And as night fell, we arrived back at our car and their house.

A little on the caloric-deficient-side after my 45-mile, 2:45 ride that included essentially an hour of zone 4, I was ready for some ice cream. We rolled into dairy queen on the way home. Brent pulled up to the drive-through and patiently waited for the trash can to take our order. When it appeared that the tinny voice would not in fact materialize from the DQ wrappers and napkins he tried to stealthily pull up to the actual intercom... Pam and I were not fooled!!! LOL.

After all that, I managed to get a few more points to bring my grand total for the year to a paltry 18. On the way home we figured I needed two more points (sigh) to get my upgrade, even after the seven I earned that night. You might be hearing about another criterium, soon.

Wish they gave points for cyclocross!!!

Shout out: Tom Zirbel racing in the Cascade Classic Stage Race in Bend, OR. I'll be out there this week-end to cheer him on in the Crit and Sunday Road Race!

Stage 3 of Tour de California: Happy Canyon

And the aptly named road was a perfect metaphor for the ride that Pete and I put together.  Today being a rest day (of sorts), we added in a little wine touring.  Literally.  It would have been sacrilege to not visit some of the local wineries.

We avoided the recent addition to tourist trappiness (The Black Jack winery made famous by the movie Sideways).  Instead utilizing the system of tubes that is the internets (and map my ride) to find a local ride that would take us along Happy Canyon.  I overlaid this with the google maps search of wineries in the Santa Ynez Valley... and Voila!  A perfectly (almost) flat 30-mile ride that took us by a number of wineries that we could decide to visit on site.

1st up- we rode through the town of Los Olivos... a town seemingly built entirely around wine tasting rooms and a single general store.  Because it was before 10 am and it would be more fun to visit the actual wineries... we pushed on, up Baseline Rd. to the Bridlewood Winery.  We smelt and tasted our way through five wines... renewing our palate with some baguette and goat cheese from the grocery.  Try the Pinot Noir for sure... it's the best.

Part of the tasting: keeping the glass.  A little difficult on a bike, but in our slightly "happy" state (we are heavily training, slightly dehydrated lightweights), it made perfect since to wrap the glass in a paper bag and "secure" it in water bottle cage.  But the wine glass was no match for the rough country roads and one good bump sent it flying — and shattering — on the roadside.  Lucky though, al the shattered glass stayed inside the paper bag.  So, we would not have any future unknown cyclist cursing our memory on Happy Canyon Rd.

We rode around to the town of Santa Ynez, CA searching for the second stop on our wine tour: The Artiste Tasting Room.  If you have never been to Santa Ynez... there is one stop light (on the highway) and one four-way stop in this "horse town".  In place of a white line on the road at the stop sign, there is a concrete slab with imbedded horse shoes that spell out "whoa"!

We found the tasting room tucked away down a side street, across the street from a post office straight out of Bonanza.  The tasting room doubles as an art gallery with flair.  The flair being provided by unfinished canvases, two easels set up in a sunny window, oodles of acrylic paints, paintbrushes, smocks, palettes, and a beret for patrons to test their artistic skills.

Each unique wine has its own original art work label from a guild that the winemaker supports.  Right now they are all Impressionists (my favorite), but they are also working on a modern artist label.  Anywho, the tasting included five wines, with the last being a port.  We also got to try a signature wine from the last wine club offering... that's six tastings each, on top of the tasting from the previous winery.  Let's say we wouldn't have blown a 0.08, but we were very "happy", especially Pete, as we rode along to Mission Dr. back to Buellton, CA.

We would have made it to without incident, if Pete hadn't have had a blow out just as we were leaving Solvang.  He being a cyclist for longer than I know how to ride a bike, I figured he could handle the tube change.  As a I watched, he took the tire completely off the wheel, accidently bent the valve stem on the new tube, couldn't get it aired on the tire, realized it had a hole in it, switched to my tube, aired it up, blew it out, then realized that the tube was pushing through a slit on the sidewall.  By this time, we were both laughing hysterically... and since we were only three miles away, rode (or shimmied — Pete) our way back to the hotel.  Something tells me that the normal bicycle wine tours have support vehicles that change flats :-)

Sunshine and day dreams come true.

The sun returned to the central valley just in time for a little cross bike action in the forest.  And to take advantage of the extra daylight and the warm sunshine...  I took a little work break in the early evening to put in some hill repeats on my favorite fire roads.  I was in a hurry to hit the trails so I drove over to Heather's house.  A fur-ball named Mo tried to hitch a ride in my clothes bag.

Sadly, Mo had to stay behind... But I took Dean over to Oak Creek Rd.  and immediately started climbing up to Dimple Hill.  The sun dappled and dazzled through the trees and the air grew slightly warmer (or maybe I grew slightly warmer) as I neared the top.  And, the beauty of the iPhone:  My "cycle-burn" playlist streaming out of the speakers at full blast made a beautiful climbing cadence. 

I posed only a moment at the top (to take a pick and not wanting to waste any light) before jamming over to the Lewisburg saddle.  I muddied myself up on the Saddle loop and as I crossed the road to head back up to Dimple, I took a leg-check.  Everything checked out, so I added one more tempo climb, this one on the single-track of Horse Trail.

About to practice my high-speed descending.

I was almost cooked at this point (good thing I had no more climbing to do).   I began the descent down to Oak Creek, a hairy, one-lane steep gravel road with blind turns and a steep drop off on one side.  I rounded a turn and a group of completely clue-less nature-haters had parked their cars (?!) in the middle of the fire road.  My adrenaline hit peak capacity as I skidded and swerved/careened around the open car doors (adding insult to injury... as if just having the car take up the whole road wasn't enough).  I was so keyed up, I added in a climb and descent down Uproute Trail to make the ride the little longer and drain some of that electric energy before working a tad more.

On track.

Running that is.  I hit the track this early evening during a break in the lab.  It is sooo nice to finally have a little daylight savings.  Living near the Mason-Dixon line all my life, I never really noticed what a difference it makes.  Now, the evening light stretches until nearly 7:00!  Though you wouldn't have known it today for all the cloud cover.

Back on track... my first real speed workout of the season (I have been doing distance-y speed with Meghan).  The goal was to run something resembling 5K pace for a few 800s, with very little rest in between.  And I was doing it alone (sad), which made it harder.  I was so proud of myself though for even attempting this workout.  I spent most of the day psyching myself up and then almost psyching myself out.  In the end... not so bad.  Quite good actually.  I managed a convincing 5:40 mile pace for all and even managed to pick it up a little on the last one.  I could have suffered through another at the end, but decided to end on a high note.  Often enough, I leave the track devastated.  I think I am going to reward it with a beer and a burrito during my next break in the lab (it is a long one tonight). 

I also have some props to give.  To Dave and his commitment to "killer" bread.  You might recall that I got a chance to meet Dave at the Portland Trout Triathlon (that I hope to race again summer 2009) last summer:

Anywho,  I was shopping at the Southtown Co-op (Boulder people, don't be jealous that I have a co-op and you don't... you have a Sunflower Market) last night and saw this sign on the bread rack:

"Dave's Killer Breads has temporarily discontinued the Dave's Killer Spelt Bread due to their current spelt flour not performing.  They expect another shipment of spelt flour next week.  So as soon as the new spelt four "performs" we will have their spelt bread back on the shelf."

Props, Dave...  I like commitment like that.  Hope the spelt starts performing!

Back in the saddle

Ah sweet, sweet health (my cold is mostly gone, just some lingering sniffles and a sexy low voice) and workouts (got a swim at lunch today).  I hooked up with Meghan for a turn around Bald Hill yesterday morning.  And I have also put in a swim with the CBATS masters class that included an 800m IM (ouch!).  

I marked my return to normalcy with a mini-celebration that included Imagining Whirled Peace (the latest and greatest offering from a pair of ice cream geniuses and a tribute to John Lennon).  Or I could quote Bridget Jones and tell you that my most recent relationship is with two men simultaneously —Ben and Jerry.  I swear sometimes it feels like the only reason I do triathlon is so that I can eat as much ice cream as I want.  And spaghetti.  And Wahoo's Tacos... though, on that front, I guess there is no danger of going overboard since the nearest Wahoo's is 686 miles away, or about an 11 hour drive.

I have big plans for MLK Jr. week-end (they sadly do not include driving to Fresno, CA for Wahoo's), but I am currently house-sitting for Heather and Jim and they live a stone's throw from the Oak Creek entrance to the forest... I plan to take in some seriously awesome hiking and cyclocross riding this week-end to take advantage of the fact that the valley has been "dry" (no rain, just moisting) for the past week.  Yeah!