Well, I had a very frustrating week of training last week. I went to do my long swim last Wednesday. Part of the workout consisted of 30 sets of 100 yards. I was on set number 25 when all of a sudden I felt a sharp twinge in my shoulder. I got to the halfway mark, and just sort of shrugged it off (literally) and continued back toward the other side of the pool. It kept happening. Every time I brought my left arm out and plunged it back into the water -- there it was. Sharp, sharp pain. So I used my right arm to finish my length across the pool. I used the kickboard for a while, then did some back stroke, then did a couple more laps of slow freestyle, but had to stop 250 yards short of my 4000 yard swim. Not that bad, but still scary.
Then on Thursday, I went to go do my long run. 2 hours and 15 minutes. I had my path all planned out, and since it was new I was actually looking forward to the run (I never would have thought those words would come out of my mouth). I set off and about 32 minutes later, my right knee said "no way". I tried to stretch it out and go forward, but it was not having any of that. So I reluctantly turned around and walked back to the car. It was pain along the outside of the knee, so I knew it was my IT band. It could be helped with stretching and rolling on the foam roller. Not too big of a deal. Just frustrating.
On Saturday, Kim and I meet up in Malibu to get our last hardcore, long, hilly bike ride in before Wildflower. Mile 11, the top of my left knee starts hurting. It's my patella, and it seems to flare up every time I do a race. I thought it would be better since Lavaman, but apparently I was wrong. I push on up Latigo Canyon, continue along Mullholland, over to Leo Carrillo. It's not getting any better. It's hurting worse. I am determined though. We start up Deckert Canyon. We decided we'd be adventurous and take a route we'd never gone. Holy cow! That first mile is STEEP! I have to stop and walk my bike up part of the way. Humbling. My knee is throbbing, but it's barely been three hours. A little further up, I have to say, "okay, I have to turn around." Also humbling and extraordinarily frustrating. My knee is done. My spirits are low. I only have 9 more weeks. That's NOTHING. I can't afford to miss these days.
Monday and my knee is still hurting from Saturday. I call a doctor who is able to see me that day. Sweet! I go in. Whew! He doesn't think it's my miniscus. He thinks I'll be fine for Wildflower in two weeks! Even better! He knows I'll be fine by Ironman -- GREAT! My patella is tracking wrong (hence the grinding noise) and has formed scar tissue under it. Part of my quad that attaches to the front of the knee is not helping matters by pulling on my patella. He spends about 30 minutes jabbing his fingers painfully into all the tender areas of my knee -- trying to begin to break up the tissue. He does cross-fiber massage -- hitting my IT band and my calf. He puts electrodes on my knee for 20 minutes along with some heat. He cracks my aching back and left shoulder. Tells me to ice it tonight. No biking or running for a couple of days. Come back on Wednesday. I leave feeling more relieved about my knee, but less relieved about the days of training on the bike and run that I desperately need. I am far behind, and it is REALLY soon!
I'll be fine. :)
Tuesday, April 22, 2008
Tuesday, April 15, 2008
Ironman Arizona
Wow -- I have been neglectful for a long time.
On Saturday I drove out to Arizona to go watch the Ironman there. I figured I should witness what I'm getting myself into.
It was... intense to say the least. 2000 people starting to swim at once is pretty crazy. They were all starting in the water, too, so I can imagine how much crazier it is going to be for me starting on land and running in, surrounded by 2000 other people.
It was heartbreaking to watch the last two people trying to finish the swim and knowing that they had already missed the cut-off. They were going to be getting out of the water only to be told that was the end of their Ironman journey for the day.
The temperature got up to 95 degrees. I was sweating just standing there watching. I can only imagine how hot it was for the athletes. If it is that hot in Idaho, I think I will die.
The bike portion was not only hot, but they had an insane headwind to fight against as well. There was a 15% drop-out/DQ on the bike alone.
Watching the people run in the brutally hot sun was painful, but also awe-inspiring. Some of these people were just hauling butt on the run. They were running faster than I run when my only workout for the day is running. And then there were the people that were struggling, and in some cases struggling is an understatement.
I stood at the finish line at 13 hours, 30 minutes to wait for two friends to cross the finish line. Watching people cross that line made my heart ache and brought tears to my eyes. It also left me feeling just as confused as the athletes looked afterward. You've over-exerted yourself all day long with people cheering you on, you cross that finish line, someone puts a medal on you, hands you a t-shirt, walks with you if you need it, but then once that person leaves, you are suddenly alone. They looked lost.
Over 400 people were DQ'd throughout the day. The fastest person finished in over 8 hours. The last person to officially finish did it in about 16 hours, 55 minutes. Someone came in 6 minutes after midnight, and they gave her a medal and shirt, but I don't know if she'll have an official finish time since she missed the 17 hour cut-off.
I don't know what I've gotten myself into.
Lessons learned --
--be comfortable. I thought I'd be wearing the same outfit all day long, but after talking to lots of people, I think I'm going to change during each transition.
-- DO NOT suck on or wipe my face with the ice cold water sponges. I watched as the volunteers quickly grabbed the dropped sponges of athletes, dip them in the water again, and hand them out to the next person running by. Of course they're going to have to reuse them, but you don't think about that when you're delirious. It was pretty disgusting watching people suck on the sponges to get the cold water out of them -- not knowing that sponge was just wiping the sweat off of another participants face, or elsewhere on their body.
-- Race SMART. Pacing, nutrition, and mental focus is everything. Someone said "don't leave your brain in the water."
-- ENJOY myself as much as I can. When someone is cheering people on, making jokes at my race, I hope I can laugh or if not manage a laugh, at least smile. I hope I have the energy to thank the people who call my name out. I hope I take the time to hug my loved ones as I pass them by (despite my sweat). I hope I appreciate the opportunity and not just try to get it over with as fast as possible.
Most of all though... I hope I can walk the next day.
Training has been going well. I'm nervous that I'm not doing enough. That I'm taking it too easy on my body. I've been having lots of knee issues lately which is very worrisome.
I did the Lavaman Triathlon on April 6. Finished in 3 hours, 7 minutes, 24 seconds. 16th place in my age group. Pretty pleased with that. Did the Solvang Century on March 8. First 100 mile ride. I had some major knee pains start around mile 40 and continue into mile 80 or so when the pain in my toe overcame the pain in my knee. But I finished feeling good and going fast. I managed to get in a 15 minute run afterwards.
Other than those two things, I've just been chugging along with training. I will try to start posting my schedule again, because it is pretty insane at times.
Must get back to work for now.
On Saturday I drove out to Arizona to go watch the Ironman there. I figured I should witness what I'm getting myself into.
It was... intense to say the least. 2000 people starting to swim at once is pretty crazy. They were all starting in the water, too, so I can imagine how much crazier it is going to be for me starting on land and running in, surrounded by 2000 other people.
It was heartbreaking to watch the last two people trying to finish the swim and knowing that they had already missed the cut-off. They were going to be getting out of the water only to be told that was the end of their Ironman journey for the day.
The temperature got up to 95 degrees. I was sweating just standing there watching. I can only imagine how hot it was for the athletes. If it is that hot in Idaho, I think I will die.
The bike portion was not only hot, but they had an insane headwind to fight against as well. There was a 15% drop-out/DQ on the bike alone.
Watching the people run in the brutally hot sun was painful, but also awe-inspiring. Some of these people were just hauling butt on the run. They were running faster than I run when my only workout for the day is running. And then there were the people that were struggling, and in some cases struggling is an understatement.
I stood at the finish line at 13 hours, 30 minutes to wait for two friends to cross the finish line. Watching people cross that line made my heart ache and brought tears to my eyes. It also left me feeling just as confused as the athletes looked afterward. You've over-exerted yourself all day long with people cheering you on, you cross that finish line, someone puts a medal on you, hands you a t-shirt, walks with you if you need it, but then once that person leaves, you are suddenly alone. They looked lost.
Over 400 people were DQ'd throughout the day. The fastest person finished in over 8 hours. The last person to officially finish did it in about 16 hours, 55 minutes. Someone came in 6 minutes after midnight, and they gave her a medal and shirt, but I don't know if she'll have an official finish time since she missed the 17 hour cut-off.
I don't know what I've gotten myself into.
Lessons learned --
--be comfortable. I thought I'd be wearing the same outfit all day long, but after talking to lots of people, I think I'm going to change during each transition.
-- DO NOT suck on or wipe my face with the ice cold water sponges. I watched as the volunteers quickly grabbed the dropped sponges of athletes, dip them in the water again, and hand them out to the next person running by. Of course they're going to have to reuse them, but you don't think about that when you're delirious. It was pretty disgusting watching people suck on the sponges to get the cold water out of them -- not knowing that sponge was just wiping the sweat off of another participants face, or elsewhere on their body.
-- Race SMART. Pacing, nutrition, and mental focus is everything. Someone said "don't leave your brain in the water."
-- ENJOY myself as much as I can. When someone is cheering people on, making jokes at my race, I hope I can laugh or if not manage a laugh, at least smile. I hope I have the energy to thank the people who call my name out. I hope I take the time to hug my loved ones as I pass them by (despite my sweat). I hope I appreciate the opportunity and not just try to get it over with as fast as possible.
Most of all though... I hope I can walk the next day.
Training has been going well. I'm nervous that I'm not doing enough. That I'm taking it too easy on my body. I've been having lots of knee issues lately which is very worrisome.
I did the Lavaman Triathlon on April 6. Finished in 3 hours, 7 minutes, 24 seconds. 16th place in my age group. Pretty pleased with that. Did the Solvang Century on March 8. First 100 mile ride. I had some major knee pains start around mile 40 and continue into mile 80 or so when the pain in my toe overcame the pain in my knee. But I finished feeling good and going fast. I managed to get in a 15 minute run afterwards.
Other than those two things, I've just been chugging along with training. I will try to start posting my schedule again, because it is pretty insane at times.
Must get back to work for now.
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