Over the winter, I remember reading a couple of cyclocross race reports, several of which included complaints of back pain. And since a lot of the problems in cyclocross riders will cross over into spinning class participants (if not necessarily to triathletes), it's time to address the issue of (dramatic pause) . . .
The psoas.
Wait. The Pso-what?
You may have heard of this muscle. Or you may have heard the term iliopsoas, which is a combination of the iliacus and the psoas major (not the same muscles, but close enough that there's a combined term for them). The psoas is a deep hip flexor, and acts to raise and externally rotate the leg at the hip. Know what activities involve frequent frequent flexion at the hip (and external rotation, if you have something wonky going on with your form). Yep. If you're a cyclist, a runner, a stair-stepper, an elliptical-user, or (I assume) a cross-country skier--in short, if you do cardio on the land--I can almost guarantee that your psoas are tight.
And the psoas originates at the spine; it's attached directly to your vertebrae (from T12 to L4). So when it's tight (or shortened, for example when you're sitting), know what it does? That's right. Cranks that lumbar spine forward! So if you've got one of those crappy jobs that requires you to sit at a desk all day, the psoas is constantly shortened. And if that job happens to entail a long commute (look down at your legs next time you're driving; are they flexed and externally rotated at the hips?) AND you're a cardio person? Yeah, you're pretty much screwed.
We've talked about the psoas before; it figures prominently into the anterior pelvic tilt associated with swayback (lower-crossed posture). It's not the only muscle acting on that posture, but it definitely contributes. And if you drive a lot, sit all the time, and are an avid biker (or runner, or both), it stands to reason that psoas tightness might be acting on your whole lumbo-pelvic area pretty powerfully.
But what does that have to do with this searing pain in my back?
Back pain related to tightness in the psoas usually presents as pain or pressure in the low back somewhere (or possibly everywhere) from the low middle back to the tailbone, off to the side (the pain is almost never right in the midline--that is, directly on the spine, 2). It might be relieved by sitting or laying with the knees bent (later I'll show you a position in which you can lay that--in my opinion--offers instant relief).
There are nerves all up in the psoas; the origins of the femoral nerve (which is the main lower-body nerve of the front, the sciatic nerve being the main nerve on the posterior side) are "invested within [the] psoas" (3). And the femoral nerve itself emerges between the iliacus and the psoas, so overactivity of the latter can cause compression (read: PAIN) of that nerve.
Keep in mind, though, that overactivity of the psoas isn't the only cause of back pain. So if you're getting constant pain, stabbing pain, or shooting pain down your back, you should go get your back checked out by a legitimate medical professional (FYI, I'm not one). But most of the exercises I'll recommend for you here are the kinds of things that won't hurt, might help, so you may as well give 'em a shot.
Yeah, yeah. Shut up with the stupid anatomy and tell me why I hurt!
Your back hurts when you bike because you're not stabilizing properly with your core. You're yanking up on the backside of the pedal stroke using the hip flexors (PSOAS!) and you're cranking down on the front half with help from your quadratus lumborem (remember that guy?). Those muscles are working to push power down to the pedals and stabilize against each other. Without sufficient stabilization from your core musculature, and without the help of other important muscle groups (particularly the glutes), you're going to be left with one cranky body. Or that's my operating theory, anyway.
This effect is going to be particularly pronounced in cyclocross. You're doing all you can to push maximum power at several points in a cyclocross race, and that power is coming from some touchy areas--namely the hips and back. And when you're riding over rough terrain, as on a cyclocross course, the ground is too choppy to allow for the kind of smooth, even pedal stroke for which we all strive on our road/tri bikes. So you're more likely to yank up/pound down on the pedals, overworking the hip flexors and back while the quads/glutes get a free(ish) ride.
Other times you're likely to pedal like that (and so make your psoas and back hate your stinking guts)? Spinning classes, when you crank the resistance really hard. Going up big climbs. And pushing too big a gear.
So what can I do about it?
Ah, we come to the heart of the matter. Key thing is to stretch your psoas. Strengthening the glutes and core (the psoas is connected to the pelvic floor, inner thighs, and quads by fascia, 3) also helps. Yoga has done wonders for me in both regards (but keep in mind that the benefit you get from yoga depends greatly on your instructor). Here are some ideas that I think will help you:
Instant relief
Ahhhhh . . . No seriously. Try it. Lay on your back with your knees bent and your feet greater than hip width apart. Then let your knees collapse in towards each other. Hip flexion and internal rotation. Say it with me now: Ahhhhh . . .
Low lunge series (I)
One of the best, but it takes a good amount of concentration to get it right. Start on all fours. Bring your right foot up between your hands, and sit straight up. You should be in a knee-down lunge. If you're having trouble not falling over, do this lunge next to a wall, so you have something to hold onto. Make sure that your knee is right over your ankle; if it's pushing past your ankle (i.e. your knee is forming a less-than-90* angle), wiggle your foot forward a little further. Hips should be level and square to the front.
Now assuming you have your balance here, put both hands on the front leg and use them to push your upper body up, making your back as straight and as long as you can. Chest lifted. Shoulders back. Now sink down into your hips, bringing your right bum forward and closer to the floor. Keep your hips level. Keep your hips square. Just let gravity pull your hips lower and lower. Bonus points if you squeeze your right butt cheek. If you can stand it, stay here for a minute on each side. You can repeat this one a couple times.
Low lunge series (II)
You've done both sides with the first lunge. You're back to having your right leg forward, left knee down. Wiggle your right foot off to the side, so it's out wider than your right hip, and turn your foot out to the side (externally rotate your hip). So your knee is right over your ankle and pointing out to the side. Now lower your upper body down towards the floor and see if you can bring your hands to the floor. How about your forearms? See if you can wiggle your left leg a little bit farther back, so that you're more on your thigh than your knee. Sink your hips down. Breathe.
Low lunge series (III)
If you want to take that stretch a little further, stretch your left heel back and raise your knee without letting your hips come up. Sink your hips towards the floor. Breathe.
References and Further Reading
Source 1: The Psoas: Is it Killing Your Back?
Source 2: The Psoas Syndrome
Source 3: The functional anatomy of the iliopsoas muscle and its implications to hip and back injury in dancers
Source 4: Yoga Anatomy - Release Your Psoas
Monday, February 15, 2010
Saturday, February 13, 2010
Spinning Workout: Triathlete's 45
I wrote this workout specifically for a triathlete, so it's perfect as a quick, high-intensity spin for tri training!
Triathlete's 45 (45 minutes)
Love's Gonna Live Here (Buck Owens & George Jones) - 91 BPM
Hard Rain's A-Gonna Fall (Leon Russell) - 88 BPM
Rolling (Soul Coughing) - 91 BPM
Where is my Mind (The Pixies) - 83 BPM
How Long (Toshi Reagon) - 120 BPM
Send a Little Love Token (The Duke Spirit) - 154 BPM
If You Have to Ask (Red Hot Chili Peppers) - 96 BPM
Cocaine (Eric Clapton) - 105 BPM
Super Bon Bon (Soul Coughing) - 99 BPM
My Name is Mud (Primus) - 98 BPM
One for the Road (BANG Sugar BANG) - 148 BPM
Our Love (Rhett Miller) - 165 BPM
Long Legs (The Magic Numbers) - 108 BPM
Note: After purchasing the workout, I will send you an e-mail with instructions on how to download.
This is one of my paid workouts. Looking for the free workouts? Go here!
Friday, February 12, 2010
Runner's High: Hit by a Train
:-D
Wednesday, February 3, 2010
The Most Necessary Thing
I don't have a coach. I don't have a power meter. I don't have a GPS device. I don't run in Newtons, don't ride on Zipps, and don't own a swim skin.
I've considered purchasing all of those things. I've thought about spending money I didn't really have on things I don't really need, because they might (in most cases, will) make me faster. And in terms of improving speed, all of these tools are reasonable investments. I'm on the fence about Newtons (seems to me that they could go either way), but all the others, I firmly believe that they will make you faster.
But I'm not going to spend money on them.
Why? Because at this point in my training, they're not necessary. Sure, I could probably ride faster with a pair of Zipps. And I could probably get more speed out of myself with a GPS device, a power meter, a coach. But the truth is that I can still get so much out of myself just by swimming, biking, and running, that the improvements I would see with a monetary investment aren't necessary right now.
Hard work in the workouts is (right now) the most necessary thing for me.
Same goes for the workouts themselves. This year, I think I can drop 20-30 seconds off my mile pace in the 5k just by continuing the pattern of training I've been doing: long run, tempo run, intervals. There's still plenty of room for improvement for me with getting all my runs done, too. So I probably won't consider adding in additional workouts (hills, for example) on any regular basis until I see the current performance gains I'm making level off.
Chances are good that in a couple years I'll start to see my improvements plateau; my times won't get faster, my results won't improve. That's when I'll consider hiring a coach, purchasing new training tools, upgrading my equipment. And that's when I might start looking for new training methods, concentrating more on strength and plyometrics, re-evaluating my plan.
But for right now, consistency in working hard is my most necessary thing.
What's yours?
I've considered purchasing all of those things. I've thought about spending money I didn't really have on things I don't really need, because they might (in most cases, will) make me faster. And in terms of improving speed, all of these tools are reasonable investments. I'm on the fence about Newtons (seems to me that they could go either way), but all the others, I firmly believe that they will make you faster.
But I'm not going to spend money on them.
Why? Because at this point in my training, they're not necessary. Sure, I could probably ride faster with a pair of Zipps. And I could probably get more speed out of myself with a GPS device, a power meter, a coach. But the truth is that I can still get so much out of myself just by swimming, biking, and running, that the improvements I would see with a monetary investment aren't necessary right now.
Hard work in the workouts is (right now) the most necessary thing for me.
Same goes for the workouts themselves. This year, I think I can drop 20-30 seconds off my mile pace in the 5k just by continuing the pattern of training I've been doing: long run, tempo run, intervals. There's still plenty of room for improvement for me with getting all my runs done, too. So I probably won't consider adding in additional workouts (hills, for example) on any regular basis until I see the current performance gains I'm making level off.
Chances are good that in a couple years I'll start to see my improvements plateau; my times won't get faster, my results won't improve. That's when I'll consider hiring a coach, purchasing new training tools, upgrading my equipment. And that's when I might start looking for new training methods, concentrating more on strength and plyometrics, re-evaluating my plan.
But for right now, consistency in working hard is my most necessary thing.
What's yours?
Friday, January 29, 2010
Podcast Update and Custom Workouts
So I'm hard at work on the next installments of our podcasting adventures. Upcoming cycling podcast will be a power interval workout. It should be particularly useful for those using a Joe Friel plan or one of the plans from the Essential Week-by-Week Training Guide. These will be 20 second power blasts followed up by 5 minutes of recovery. Prepare to hurt.
Upcoming in the running podcast sector is a hill workout that you can do on the treadmill. 'Cause I know I'm not the only one stuck in a state where the only hills are interstate overpasses.
But I'd also like to announce that I'm making my custom cycling workouts available to the public. In the past, I've done custom workouts for a few of you with individualized soundtracks and Yours Truly bossing you through a kick-ass bike ride. I'm now opening that up to anyone who wants one. If you're interested in having your own custom workout, leave me a comment (with a valid e-mail address so I can get back to you) or send an e-mail to jamielynnmorton[at]gmail[dot]com. My prices start at $12.50 for a 45-minute workout. Just so you all know, that's way less money than it costs to train personally with me for an hour :-)
Expect to hear my voice soon, guys! Happy training!
Thursday, January 21, 2010
Strength
Not sure if you guys have picked up on this, but I'm kind of a stubborn, hard-headed person. I like to go my own way. I like to figure things out for myself. So when every endurance sports magazine and most of the blogs tell me about the importance of strength training for endurance athletes, do you think I listen? I do not!
Truth is, I used to love lifting weights. It was all I did, athletically speaking, in high school and most of college. I hated running. Knew zilch about cycling. And could barely swim. Also, I had almost no coordination and sucked at being a team player. Weight training was sort of right up my alley.
Even two seasons ago, I spent the bulk of my early-season training time doing hang cleans, squats, straight-leg deadlifts, and lat pull-downs with heavy, heavy weights. I made big gains in strength (and bulk). I could feel the power in my legs with every step.
Somewhere along the way, I got to really hate weight lifting. Might have to do with the fact that I work in a gym and frequently spend 10-12 hours a day around free weights, Cybex, Nautilus, Free Motion, and the like. Add to that my general unwillingness to listen to what everyone else says, and you have my current situation: I will do anything to avoid strength training.
However, about a month ago, I started noticing something on my long runs and bike workouts: my legs were getting tired. The quads and hamstrings and glutes would be crapping out, and my heart rate would barely be in the 140s. I was having trouble getting into the appropriate training zone because my legs weren't strong enough to get my heart working.
Now that's probably not all that abnormal; probably most athletes find that their hearts and lungs are stronger than their arms and legs (or vice versa) in the early part of the season, if not for most of the year. But it was a kick in the pants for me. Because I knew that I wasn't putting in enough time in the weight room, at least in terms of the results I want to see this year. So I sat down and (grudgingly) wrote out a weight training plan for myself.
I'm not going to try to convince you that you should lift weights (at least not in this post). If you want to lift weights, you already do, and if you don't want to lift weights, I'm not going to convince you that you should by anything I write (just like I wasn't convinced by anything I read). I will tell you (from experience) that Yoga--even a high-intensity kind like Bikram or Ashtanga--is not going to be enough strength training if you really want to train for your top performance. Anyway, the point is not to convince you of how great strength training is; the point is to give you the workout I do--which is as short and as concise as I could make it--so you can use it, if you want to. If you've never lifted before, find a personal trainer (or a knowledgeable friend) to show you how to do these things properly. Don't go in there without knowing what you're doing; you're too likely to hurt yourself, and then you'll really regret the strength training.
Jamie's IDon'tWannaBeHere Strength Plan
Squats
- Hold cables or dumbbells in hands. Don't use a barbell over the back of the neck; loading the spine like that is not (in my opinion) worth the strength gains. Besides, using cables/dumbbells is more work because it's an open kinetic chain exercise (can't lift as much raw weight, though).
- 1 set of 12 at 12 repetition maximum (as much weight as you can lift 12 times)
- 3 x 6-8 at repetition maximum
Straight-leg deadlifts
- These are fine to do with a dumbbell.
- Engage your pelvic floor and inner thighs to help stabilize the sacrum (if you have SI joint problems or piriformis syndrome, this may aggravate it).
- 1 x 12 @ rep. max.
- 3 x 6-8 @ rep. max.
Single-leg squats
- Focus on keeping the knee tracking over the ankle
- Stand on a BOSU trainer or Dyna Disc for more stabilization work
- 2 x 15, each leg
Single-leg straight-leg deadlifts
- Try to keep the hips square to the floor (reaching forward with the opposite hand helps with this)
- Try to keep the hips neutrally rotated
- 2 x 15, each leg
Side-lying leg raises
- Keep your body perpendicular to the floor
- Keep your hip neutrally rotated
- Don't let your leg come forward at all; this lets you cheat by using your hip flexors (particularly the tensor fascia lata) instead of your gluteus medius/minimus
- 2 x 15, each side
Yoga Ass
- Um, this one is sort of hard to describe. Start from your hands and knees. Stick your right leg straight out behind you without letting your back drop. Dorsiflex your foot. Externally rotate your leg at the hip (so it's like you're stacking your hips on top of each other). Then pull your foot forward. Your goal is to get your foot even with your right hip. Keep your arms straight.
- 2 x 30 sec. on each side
Push ups
- Keep the elbows tucked in close to the sides so you nail your triceps, too.
- 3 x 10
(No pic, because I didn't feel like hopping on the assisted pull up machine that day)
Pull ups
- I do these on an assisted pull up machine, but if you're cooler than me and can do non-cheater pull ups I commend you.
- Use an underhand grip to get into your biceps a little more.
- Focus on sliding your shoulder blades down your back, so that you really get the lats.
- 3 x 8
Hand stand
- Use the wall if you need to
- 3 x 4 breaths
Truth is, I used to love lifting weights. It was all I did, athletically speaking, in high school and most of college. I hated running. Knew zilch about cycling. And could barely swim. Also, I had almost no coordination and sucked at being a team player. Weight training was sort of right up my alley.
Even two seasons ago, I spent the bulk of my early-season training time doing hang cleans, squats, straight-leg deadlifts, and lat pull-downs with heavy, heavy weights. I made big gains in strength (and bulk). I could feel the power in my legs with every step.
Somewhere along the way, I got to really hate weight lifting. Might have to do with the fact that I work in a gym and frequently spend 10-12 hours a day around free weights, Cybex, Nautilus, Free Motion, and the like. Add to that my general unwillingness to listen to what everyone else says, and you have my current situation: I will do anything to avoid strength training.
However, about a month ago, I started noticing something on my long runs and bike workouts: my legs were getting tired. The quads and hamstrings and glutes would be crapping out, and my heart rate would barely be in the 140s. I was having trouble getting into the appropriate training zone because my legs weren't strong enough to get my heart working.
Now that's probably not all that abnormal; probably most athletes find that their hearts and lungs are stronger than their arms and legs (or vice versa) in the early part of the season, if not for most of the year. But it was a kick in the pants for me. Because I knew that I wasn't putting in enough time in the weight room, at least in terms of the results I want to see this year. So I sat down and (grudgingly) wrote out a weight training plan for myself.
I'm not going to try to convince you that you should lift weights (at least not in this post). If you want to lift weights, you already do, and if you don't want to lift weights, I'm not going to convince you that you should by anything I write (just like I wasn't convinced by anything I read). I will tell you (from experience) that Yoga--even a high-intensity kind like Bikram or Ashtanga--is not going to be enough strength training if you really want to train for your top performance. Anyway, the point is not to convince you of how great strength training is; the point is to give you the workout I do--which is as short and as concise as I could make it--so you can use it, if you want to. If you've never lifted before, find a personal trainer (or a knowledgeable friend) to show you how to do these things properly. Don't go in there without knowing what you're doing; you're too likely to hurt yourself, and then you'll really regret the strength training.
Jamie's IDon'tWannaBeHere Strength Plan
Squats
- Hold cables or dumbbells in hands. Don't use a barbell over the back of the neck; loading the spine like that is not (in my opinion) worth the strength gains. Besides, using cables/dumbbells is more work because it's an open kinetic chain exercise (can't lift as much raw weight, though).
- 1 set of 12 at 12 repetition maximum (as much weight as you can lift 12 times)
- 3 x 6-8 at repetition maximum
Straight-leg deadlifts
- These are fine to do with a dumbbell.
- Engage your pelvic floor and inner thighs to help stabilize the sacrum (if you have SI joint problems or piriformis syndrome, this may aggravate it).
- 1 x 12 @ rep. max.
- 3 x 6-8 @ rep. max.
Single-leg squats
- Focus on keeping the knee tracking over the ankle
- Stand on a BOSU trainer or Dyna Disc for more stabilization work
- 2 x 15, each leg
Single-leg straight-leg deadlifts
- Try to keep the hips square to the floor (reaching forward with the opposite hand helps with this)
- Try to keep the hips neutrally rotated
- 2 x 15, each leg
Side-lying leg raises
- Keep your body perpendicular to the floor
- Keep your hip neutrally rotated
- Don't let your leg come forward at all; this lets you cheat by using your hip flexors (particularly the tensor fascia lata) instead of your gluteus medius/minimus
- 2 x 15, each side
Yoga Ass
- Um, this one is sort of hard to describe. Start from your hands and knees. Stick your right leg straight out behind you without letting your back drop. Dorsiflex your foot. Externally rotate your leg at the hip (so it's like you're stacking your hips on top of each other). Then pull your foot forward. Your goal is to get your foot even with your right hip. Keep your arms straight.
- 2 x 30 sec. on each side
Push ups
- Keep the elbows tucked in close to the sides so you nail your triceps, too.
- 3 x 10
(No pic, because I didn't feel like hopping on the assisted pull up machine that day)
Pull ups
- I do these on an assisted pull up machine, but if you're cooler than me and can do non-cheater pull ups I commend you.
- Use an underhand grip to get into your biceps a little more.
- Focus on sliding your shoulder blades down your back, so that you really get the lats.
- 3 x 8
Hand stand
- Use the wall if you need to
- 3 x 4 breaths
Tuesday, January 19, 2010
Race Report: Rock 'n' Roll Arizona 1/2 Marathon
2:02:21.
I was totally blown away by this result. I was hoping that I could do 2:06, which seemed realistic based on a 12-miler I did a couple weeks ago at a 9:40/mile pace. When I crossed the finish line and checked my watch (after downing a bottle of water and sitting back on my heels half-asleep for about 20 minutes), I couldn't believe it. I held a 9:20 pace for 2 hours straight?! I had no idea I could do that.
And you know, I keep trying to write more about it than this, but the truth is there isn't much to say. My training for this race was spot-on. I've been consistent and strong in all my runs. I mean, I've missed a run here or there, but it's been more hit than miss (and that might be the first time I can say that about run training for any race). I got in a solid 15-mile run at the beginning of last week, and I managed to hit some really good tempo runs. When the race began, all I really had to do was show up and do what I knew I could do.
I didn't set out to run a 2:02 pace, though. Based on what I had been doing in my training runs, I decided to set out with the 2:07 group and try to hang on. I figured I would feel a little too fresh in the early miles, then end up hanging on for dear life in the last 3-4 miles. The pace group was wonderful: perfectly paced, with an encouraging leader and a good vibe. I felt good at that pace, and had no trouble surging ahead to pass, or to sneak ahead for some water. My legs felt zippy and springy every time I needed to accelerate. I knew I had plenty of gas in my tank.
I think it was around mile 8 when I started pulling away. I felt good, and I kept edging ahead of my pace group. There was another girl (in a pink "iRunLikeAGirl" shirt) who was sneaking ahead, as well; she had told the pacer early on to pull her back if she started to get ahead, because she was afraid that she would fade in the last few miles. So when she started to really pull away, I decided to pace off of her instead. At any rate, I figured if we slowed down later I could pick the pace group back up and still finish around 2:06, 2:07.
There were a few times when I lost the iRunner at water stops, then caught her up later. At around mile 10, I thought she'd dropped me for good, as she was picking up speed. I started to go with her ("She's not faster than me! I can keep up!"), but decided it wasn't worth it to pursue. So instead I just held my own pace. I passed her around a mile and a half from the finish line, when she started walking.
I have to say, the last 2-3 miles were difficult; they were tough. There were a few very slight inclines (like in Kansas, they were slight but noticeable) that were enough to hurt, but not enough to really offer an excuse to slow the pace. During those last 20 minutes or so, I kept glancing down at the clock, wondering when the pain would be over. I repeated to myself, "Strong and steady and strong and steady" as a mantra. I focused all my attention on that point just between and behind my eyes (the Third Eye). And all of it paid off. I didn't slow down, or at least not much; my last mile split was 9:30.
I ran without an iPod, because I wasn't going to be like all those one-timers in their basketball shorts with their music-players strapped onto their biceps; I am a runner, and I don't need music to have a good result, thank you very much. It was nice to have bands right on the course, although I was running by them at such exceptional speeds, I'm afraid I didn't get to enjoy the music for very long (I'm just kidding, of course).
One of my favorite parts about the race is that the Super Official and Very Expensive Thank You Very Much race photos of me all came out very well. I'm not going to pay $80 for them, but I can tell you that I actually look like a runner, I am not making any funny faces, and my legs aren't doing that wonky displacement thing that you often see in race pictures.
I am so happy with this time. Like my 70.3 time, I'm right on the cusp of breaking through a Big Number Barrier--in this case, 2 hours. I can surely knock off a measly little 2:21; all I have to do is run 20 seconds faster per mile next time (and all I have to do to break 6 hours in a half ironman is not stop at the toilet in T2). I can do that. I'm still nowhere near my potential.
You know, the great thing about endurance sports is that the horizon is forever receding. Today I ran 2:02:21; tomorrow I'll start trying to run 1:59. And once I do that, I'll lower the bar a little more. In fact, the whole endurance sports process is very much like a very long, very painful game of Limbo.
I was totally blown away by this result. I was hoping that I could do 2:06, which seemed realistic based on a 12-miler I did a couple weeks ago at a 9:40/mile pace. When I crossed the finish line and checked my watch (after downing a bottle of water and sitting back on my heels half-asleep for about 20 minutes), I couldn't believe it. I held a 9:20 pace for 2 hours straight?! I had no idea I could do that.
And you know, I keep trying to write more about it than this, but the truth is there isn't much to say. My training for this race was spot-on. I've been consistent and strong in all my runs. I mean, I've missed a run here or there, but it's been more hit than miss (and that might be the first time I can say that about run training for any race). I got in a solid 15-mile run at the beginning of last week, and I managed to hit some really good tempo runs. When the race began, all I really had to do was show up and do what I knew I could do.
I didn't set out to run a 2:02 pace, though. Based on what I had been doing in my training runs, I decided to set out with the 2:07 group and try to hang on. I figured I would feel a little too fresh in the early miles, then end up hanging on for dear life in the last 3-4 miles. The pace group was wonderful: perfectly paced, with an encouraging leader and a good vibe. I felt good at that pace, and had no trouble surging ahead to pass, or to sneak ahead for some water. My legs felt zippy and springy every time I needed to accelerate. I knew I had plenty of gas in my tank.
I think it was around mile 8 when I started pulling away. I felt good, and I kept edging ahead of my pace group. There was another girl (in a pink "iRunLikeAGirl" shirt) who was sneaking ahead, as well; she had told the pacer early on to pull her back if she started to get ahead, because she was afraid that she would fade in the last few miles. So when she started to really pull away, I decided to pace off of her instead. At any rate, I figured if we slowed down later I could pick the pace group back up and still finish around 2:06, 2:07.
There were a few times when I lost the iRunner at water stops, then caught her up later. At around mile 10, I thought she'd dropped me for good, as she was picking up speed. I started to go with her ("She's not faster than me! I can keep up!"), but decided it wasn't worth it to pursue. So instead I just held my own pace. I passed her around a mile and a half from the finish line, when she started walking.
I have to say, the last 2-3 miles were difficult; they were tough. There were a few very slight inclines (like in Kansas, they were slight but noticeable) that were enough to hurt, but not enough to really offer an excuse to slow the pace. During those last 20 minutes or so, I kept glancing down at the clock, wondering when the pain would be over. I repeated to myself, "Strong and steady and strong and steady" as a mantra. I focused all my attention on that point just between and behind my eyes (the Third Eye). And all of it paid off. I didn't slow down, or at least not much; my last mile split was 9:30.
I ran without an iPod, because I wasn't going to be like all those one-timers in their basketball shorts with their music-players strapped onto their biceps; I am a runner, and I don't need music to have a good result, thank you very much. It was nice to have bands right on the course, although I was running by them at such exceptional speeds, I'm afraid I didn't get to enjoy the music for very long (I'm just kidding, of course).
One of my favorite parts about the race is that the Super Official and Very Expensive Thank You Very Much race photos of me all came out very well. I'm not going to pay $80 for them, but I can tell you that I actually look like a runner, I am not making any funny faces, and my legs aren't doing that wonky displacement thing that you often see in race pictures.
I am so happy with this time. Like my 70.3 time, I'm right on the cusp of breaking through a Big Number Barrier--in this case, 2 hours. I can surely knock off a measly little 2:21; all I have to do is run 20 seconds faster per mile next time (and all I have to do to break 6 hours in a half ironman is not stop at the toilet in T2). I can do that. I'm still nowhere near my potential.
You know, the great thing about endurance sports is that the horizon is forever receding. Today I ran 2:02:21; tomorrow I'll start trying to run 1:59. And once I do that, I'll lower the bar a little more. In fact, the whole endurance sports process is very much like a very long, very painful game of Limbo.
Monday, January 18, 2010
Tuesday, January 12, 2010
Running Podcast 1 - Overspeed
It's been ridiculously cold all over the country (windchills of -15 here). I hope warmer weather is on its way. Really really. But until it is, we're all going to need some incentive to get our butts on the treadmill. Hope this workout helps!
I've been reading Joe Friel's blog. And one of the things that's really struck me, as I've been writing my training program for the next season, is his emphasis on speed drills.
Since we're dealing with running today, here's a break down of the concept as it applies specifically to running: the only ways you can become a faster runner are to take more steps and to take longer steps. So with this workout, we're trying to develop faster leg speed. How are we going to do that? Overspeed training!
For this workout, we start at a cadence of 88, which should be manageable. If it's not manageable, I've included a list of songs that are at an appropriate BPM for running in order to gradually up your cadence. As the workout progresses, you have intervals of faster and faster cadence, followed by recovery periods at 88-90 BPM. Intervals get longer and longer, too. If at some point, the cadence becomes too fast for you, just go back to a speed at which your comfortable. After a few weeks with the workout, you should be able to hit those faster cadences. Keep in mind that the taller and longer-legged among you will have more trouble holding a faster cadence, and will probably be more efficient at a slower cadence anyway. Hopefully, you'll eventually find a cadence that feels optimal.
The danger in this workout is in losing form due to fatigue. Remember to keep your body loose, especially your legs and knees. Maintain an athletic posture. Imagine that you're being hauled forward by a cable that's attached to your sternum. Relax your facial muscles. Align your breathing with your footfalls.
As far as when you do this, treat it like an early-season speed session. You're not doing intervals right now (probably), so do this instead!
Running Podcast 1 - Overspeed
Wonderwall (4:19) - Oasis (87 BPM)
Whole Lotta Trouble (2:27) - Cracker (87 BPM)
Extra Ordinary (3:42) - Better Than Ezra (90 BPM)
Inside Out (3:39) - Eve 6 (90 BPM)
The Swimming Song (2:33) - Loudon Wainwright III (93 BPM)
Cool Blue Reason (3:28) - Cake (88 BPM)
Soldier (3:46) - Eminem (95 BPM)
Healer (3:51) - Ten Shekel Shirt (90 BPM)
All My Life (3:37) - Shihan (97 BPM)
I am the Way (3:57) - Mark Schultz (90 BPM)
Don't Call me White (2:37) - NOFX (100 BPM)
Superstones Strike Back (2:42) - The O.C. Supertones (91 BPM)
Deeper Than Crying (2:38) - Alison Krauss (88 BPM)
Everloving (3:26) - Moby (90 BPM)
I've been reading Joe Friel's blog. And one of the things that's really struck me, as I've been writing my training program for the next season, is his emphasis on speed drills.
Since we're dealing with running today, here's a break down of the concept as it applies specifically to running: the only ways you can become a faster runner are to take more steps and to take longer steps. So with this workout, we're trying to develop faster leg speed. How are we going to do that? Overspeed training!
For this workout, we start at a cadence of 88, which should be manageable. If it's not manageable, I've included a list of songs that are at an appropriate BPM for running in order to gradually up your cadence. As the workout progresses, you have intervals of faster and faster cadence, followed by recovery periods at 88-90 BPM. Intervals get longer and longer, too. If at some point, the cadence becomes too fast for you, just go back to a speed at which your comfortable. After a few weeks with the workout, you should be able to hit those faster cadences. Keep in mind that the taller and longer-legged among you will have more trouble holding a faster cadence, and will probably be more efficient at a slower cadence anyway. Hopefully, you'll eventually find a cadence that feels optimal.
The danger in this workout is in losing form due to fatigue. Remember to keep your body loose, especially your legs and knees. Maintain an athletic posture. Imagine that you're being hauled forward by a cable that's attached to your sternum. Relax your facial muscles. Align your breathing with your footfalls.
As far as when you do this, treat it like an early-season speed session. You're not doing intervals right now (probably), so do this instead!
Running Podcast 1 - Overspeed
Wonderwall (4:19) - Oasis (87 BPM)
Whole Lotta Trouble (2:27) - Cracker (87 BPM)
Extra Ordinary (3:42) - Better Than Ezra (90 BPM)
Inside Out (3:39) - Eve 6 (90 BPM)
The Swimming Song (2:33) - Loudon Wainwright III (93 BPM)
Cool Blue Reason (3:28) - Cake (88 BPM)
Soldier (3:46) - Eminem (95 BPM)
Healer (3:51) - Ten Shekel Shirt (90 BPM)
All My Life (3:37) - Shihan (97 BPM)
I am the Way (3:57) - Mark Schultz (90 BPM)
Don't Call me White (2:37) - NOFX (100 BPM)
Superstones Strike Back (2:42) - The O.C. Supertones (91 BPM)
Deeper Than Crying (2:38) - Alison Krauss (88 BPM)
Everloving (3:26) - Moby (90 BPM)
Monday, January 11, 2010
Runner's High - T-Shirt
I don't know if you guys have noticed, but it's been cold.
Florida? Cold. Dallas? Cold. Kansas? Really fucking cold.
It has been so cold that the weather actually constrained me to indoor running for a week and a half. Now I'm a pretty tough cookie, but when the wind chill is -15*, I take it as a sign and run on the damn treadmill. Or sometimes skip the run in favor of hot chocolate and donuts.
But today, when I walked out to my car in the morning, I smelled spring. It's not spring here in the Midwest, and won't be for some time. In fact, the air was so cold that I could barely breathe it in deeply enough to really taste the air. But there was no mistaking the smell of fresh earth, the smell of grass and dirt thawing in the balmy above-freezing air.
I was lucky (depending on whether or not you think I need money) enough to have the whole afternoon free, so I took the time for a long run. How was I dressed? In a T-shirt, tights, and light thermal jersey. No arm warmers. No gloves. I did wear a stocking cap. And for most of the run, I could have left the stocking cap and jersey in my locker (running into the north wind, I was glad I had them, and wished I would have brought gloves as well).
But the sun! The glorious, warm, sunny sun! It's hard to endure those weeks of cold, snow, ice, and wind, but they really made me grateful for the good weather, this time around. And now I'm that much more willing to get out there and work hard when the weather's nice.
Thursday, January 7, 2010
Making Tough Choices
How badly do you want to get better?
I don't ask what you're willing to sacrifice. If you're serious about this sport, it's clear already that you're willing to put your social life on the line; you have no problem spending copious amounts of time on a sport; and dropping hundreds (maybe thousands) of dollars on gear, racing, and travel is nothing new to you.
But let's say, for example, that running is your limiter. You can put in a decent swim, create a big lead on the bike, but then get re-passed by 50% of your competitors on the run. You're a strong athlete. You may not be "a runner," but you know you're strong. So you figure you should at least have a 45-minute 10k hidden deep inside you.
Here's the problem: In order to access that speed, you might have to focus just on running.
In my foray into cycling this year, I fully grasped something I should have known already: I cannot realize my potential in the individual sports of swimming, cycling, and running simultaneously. Neither can you. That's why pro triathletes don't win big-name marathons; it's why pro cyclists never win Kona.
Now in amateur triathlon, I have an awesome bike leg. That's where I do the most damage; that's where I gain my edge. But my 20-21 MPH speeds will not cut it for me in road races, criteriums, or even time trials. Part of this is a mental block (at least for me). When you've trained yourself always to save a little bit on the bike, it's tough to lay it all out in a bike race. Subconsciously, your body doesn't want to go 110% in a bike race, because it figures it's going to have to run after. I got to where I started asking myself, "Would I be able to run after this?" And if the answer was yes, it was time to get the lead out.
But most of the issue was with training. Even at the top of my game, I'm not going to be as strong cycling as a triathlete against dedicated cyclists as I would if I were only biking. In other words, I have untapped potential.
That doesn't mean that you never win a 5k or a time trial when you're training for triathlon, of course. I've gotten a few medals at local runs this year, and I've won some prize money in the bike scene. The problem isn't that I'm not competitive with runners/cyclists; the problem is that I'm not achieving my potential.
That's important, too, because there are triathletes out there who come from a background of competitive, dedicated running and cycling, and they're much closer to their potential in those sports--even when training for tris!--than I am. And if I want to beat them, I'm going to have to access some more of my own potential.
Which brings us back to the original question: how badly do you want to get better?
It's apparent to me, at this moment, that I will eventually want (or need) to put in a long-term, dedicated running focus. That means more than just a month or two in the offseason (like I did this year, after my ankle healed enough); that means like a season. And during that time, my swimming and cycling will go by the wayside. It's not that I'll never swim, or never ride. And it's not that I'll lose all the fitness and speed I've developed in those disciplines. But they won't be my focus, and I probably won't see the kind of improvement in those sports that I've become accustomed to. I'll still be able to race tris, too, although I may not have the cycling and swimming legs to be placing top 10 like I have been.
Can you tell I'm trying to talk myself into this?
I don't ask what you're willing to sacrifice. If you're serious about this sport, it's clear already that you're willing to put your social life on the line; you have no problem spending copious amounts of time on a sport; and dropping hundreds (maybe thousands) of dollars on gear, racing, and travel is nothing new to you.
But let's say, for example, that running is your limiter. You can put in a decent swim, create a big lead on the bike, but then get re-passed by 50% of your competitors on the run. You're a strong athlete. You may not be "a runner," but you know you're strong. So you figure you should at least have a 45-minute 10k hidden deep inside you.
Here's the problem: In order to access that speed, you might have to focus just on running.
In my foray into cycling this year, I fully grasped something I should have known already: I cannot realize my potential in the individual sports of swimming, cycling, and running simultaneously. Neither can you. That's why pro triathletes don't win big-name marathons; it's why pro cyclists never win Kona.
Now in amateur triathlon, I have an awesome bike leg. That's where I do the most damage; that's where I gain my edge. But my 20-21 MPH speeds will not cut it for me in road races, criteriums, or even time trials. Part of this is a mental block (at least for me). When you've trained yourself always to save a little bit on the bike, it's tough to lay it all out in a bike race. Subconsciously, your body doesn't want to go 110% in a bike race, because it figures it's going to have to run after. I got to where I started asking myself, "Would I be able to run after this?" And if the answer was yes, it was time to get the lead out.
But most of the issue was with training. Even at the top of my game, I'm not going to be as strong cycling as a triathlete against dedicated cyclists as I would if I were only biking. In other words, I have untapped potential.
That doesn't mean that you never win a 5k or a time trial when you're training for triathlon, of course. I've gotten a few medals at local runs this year, and I've won some prize money in the bike scene. The problem isn't that I'm not competitive with runners/cyclists; the problem is that I'm not achieving my potential.
That's important, too, because there are triathletes out there who come from a background of competitive, dedicated running and cycling, and they're much closer to their potential in those sports--even when training for tris!--than I am. And if I want to beat them, I'm going to have to access some more of my own potential.
Which brings us back to the original question: how badly do you want to get better?
It's apparent to me, at this moment, that I will eventually want (or need) to put in a long-term, dedicated running focus. That means more than just a month or two in the offseason (like I did this year, after my ankle healed enough); that means like a season. And during that time, my swimming and cycling will go by the wayside. It's not that I'll never swim, or never ride. And it's not that I'll lose all the fitness and speed I've developed in those disciplines. But they won't be my focus, and I probably won't see the kind of improvement in those sports that I've become accustomed to. I'll still be able to race tris, too, although I may not have the cycling and swimming legs to be placing top 10 like I have been.
Can you tell I'm trying to talk myself into this?
Monday, January 4, 2010
Spinning Workout 28 - Endurance
Ha! Finally!
This workout is all about endurance. I tried to write it as a base-building workout with a little intensity. There are easy spinning sections, hard time trials, seated climbs, and standing climbs. There are also some overspeed sections to force you to turn a fast cadence (almost 140 RPM); if you want, you could also try those sections as one-legged drills, switching legs every minute. The main thing is to get some cadence/drill work into the base building period.
Try to keep everything in high zone 2/low zone 3. Probably won't make it the first time, but I hope that as you get more and more fit this workout will keep you right in the sweet spot of base building intensity. Or you can just go balls to the wall the whole time, just like you might in an actual spinning class.
Spinning Workout 28 - Endurance
I Woke up in a Car (4:13) - Something Corporate (107 BPM)
I Want You Back (2:58) - The Jackson 5 (100 BPM)
Walk This Way (3:32) - Aerosmith (104 BPM)
Heart of Glass (4:34) - Blondie (110 BPM)
Relax (3:56) - Frankie Goes to Hollywood (115 BPM)
Canned Heat (5:32) - Jamiroquai (128 BPM)
Beep Beep (6:29) - Beep Beep (132 BPM)
Kiss Kiss (3:24) - Holly Valance (98 BPM)
How Bad do You Want it? (3:45) - Tim Mcgraw (88 BPM)
If Looks Could Kill (3:41) - Heart (79 BPM)
Burning Up (3:47) - Madonna (137 BPM)
I Get Around (2:13) - Beach Boys (148 BPM)
The General (4:07) - Dispatch (90 BPM)
Looking for more workouts? Go here!
Sunday, January 3, 2010
Race Report: Resolution Run 5k
Oh yeah. I forgot. I actually like this.
What a fun race. Last one of the year. Snow on the roads. Temps are biting. Wind chill is sub-zero. Sun is setting, leaving us all in the freezing shade.
But there's beer.
This isn't a PR kind of race. For one thing, if you're doing it properly, you're stopping to drink at three points on the course. There is no other reason to drive to El Dorado and do this race except to show up and have fun by drinking lots of beer while running. If you live in El Dorado already, you are excused. Besides the beer drinking aspect, there's also the fact that a good third of the course has slick patches of ice and/or snow. So imagine running like *stride* *stride* *stride* *stride* *tippy tippy tippy toe* *stride* *stride* and so on. Unless you prefer to go *stride* *stride* *st--*slip!* *fall on ass* *swear profusely.* Whether you take the tippy toe option or the full-stride fall-on-ass, you're not going to be setting any records.
And I certainly did not set records. But I did have fun.
First beer stop was at the start line. There was some issue with open containers in public places, so the "aid stations" had to be strategically placed. I had maybe 4 ounces of beer before the start (Budweiser Select 55, just in case you wanted to know). I lined up about halfway back, thinking that I didn't want to get caught up in the high-speed scrum at the line. The sidewalk was only about 4 feet wide, with hard-packed snow piled up on either side. So it was going to be tight quarters at the start.
I left all my best warm-weather gear at the Firehouse (where I take a spinning class, and which is actually, if possible, colder than it would be to ride outside), so I had no arm-warmers and (most importantly) no gloves. Well, I had a pair of $1 gloves. But I threw them away because they smelled like wet dog and sardines. Stupid, stupid, stupid. My hands were freezing during the first mile. I eventually caved and tucked them into the sleeves of my sweatshirt (trying to hold my beer mug at the same time, by the way). They were so cold it felt like my thumbnails had been stepped on by a full back. Then, at about the 1 mile mark, they just magically stopped being cold. Not sure what that was all about. I guess it takes me exactly two miles to warm up (I did one before the start).
There was another woman who was running about the same pace as me from the beginning, and we'd kept each other close the whole time. Well, around the 1-mile point, I put in just enough of a surge to (in my mind) break her. Didn't look back, but I didn't hear her breathing or her footfalls anymore. Then we got to Aid Station #2. And I, being the fun-loving spirit that I am, said, "Ah! Now this is what I've been running for!" Upon which, the volunteer with the pitcher said, "Oh, well let's just fill you up here!" and filled my little plastic mug up almost to the top. That's gotta be 12 ounces. Crap.
So, wanting to keep the spirit alive, I walked quickly and tried to guzzle as quickly as I can. As with any endurance activity, you have to walk a fine balance between going fast and puking, and I definitely wanted to stay out of the puking camp. It took me probably 2-3 minutes to drain the beer and get moving again. And by that time my companion/nemesis from earlier had re-passed me and put a little bit of time into me. Because she didn't even stop, the pansy.
As I neared the turn-around, I started counting warm, female bodies coming back the other way. There were at least 10 in front of me. I hit the turn-around (I estimate it was about the 2 mile point) and turned on the speed. I was really surprised by how much faster I was running. It was like I'd just finished the warm-up, and was finally ready to race. I started reeling those girls back in. Shortly after the turn-around, the beer hit me; I went from zero to tipsy in about a second. Felt like I was running on clouds. I ran myself back into the top 10 while slightly drunk, then saw that my original running buddy was within reach. She had maybe 50 yards on me. I knew I could catch her; I had about half a mile left to go, at that point. I passed her not 200 yards from the last aid station. At this one, I told them, "Just a swallow!" I knew that she wasn't going to stop, but I was gonna do the beer thing right, dammit! So I stopped long enough for a swallow of beer, then tore after her again. I passed her with about 20 yards to go, and finished in a time of 27:15.
27:15 is 8:47 pace. Not fast, but definitely faster than I could have run last year. Did run last year, actually, at the Jingle Bell 4-mile. Just makes me wonder what I could do at a race with a decent temperature (or at least the right clothes) and no ice/snow on the roads and no stopping for beer. Although jury's still out on whether the beer helped more than it hurt or vice versa.
And a few more special things about the race: My client Kim came out too late to run in the race herself (the original plan), but did take pictures and cheer and run with me for a bit. And I got to meet a reader, Lindsey, who won the women's overall! Always nice to meet you lurkers, especially the local ones :-)
I had a ton of fun at this race. Felt like I got a good start to 2010. And I rediscovered my competitiveness in an unexpected (and unobnoxious) way.
Friday, January 1, 2010
Hiatus
Well, might as well call it what it is.
It's been--what?--a good two months since I've posted. Know what else I haven't done in about two months? Haven't swam or biked over about that same span of time. Well, except for spinning classes. But that's my job. And the SpinStrong Firehouse workouts. But we go out for margaritas and Mexican food after that.
I'm beginning to understand my lack of ambition, though; the reasons for my missing mojo are becoming clear. I'm starting to feel restless, here in south central Kansas. Nothing I can put my finger on, exactly. But I think I'm ready to move on. It feels right. I feel ready.
But when you're getting ready to make a big transition, it's difficult to plan for things like training and racing, even though (for me, anyway) training and racing is more central than periphery. How shall I train? Should I peak for Shawnee Mission? Incorporate Mudwater and Rock 'n' Route? Plan to run the newly-designed Wichita Marathon course? See, I'm not sure I'm going to be around when all those things are going down, so I'm not sure what (if anything) I should target in the coming season.
Still, I miss having something to shoot for, a reason to go out and work up a sweat. And I've gained weight, over this holiday/off-season period. So I'm working on getting back on a plan. It's tentative, of course, but I figure that wherever I am in six months, they will have triathlons, and I will be able to find something within driving distance that I can do that will roughly approximate the events for which I've been training. So I'm trying to proceed as normal with this season, planning-wise. And if none of it works out, that'll be fine too.
None of which addresses my extended absence from the online community. I still read most of your blogs, by the way. I've become a little bit of a lurker, but I'm still out there, following your progress. Congrats to those of you who finished IMs in the past two months. You are all awesome and rock. As to writing, what I should have done was prepare a series of drafts that would take minimal work to complete, so that I could have kept publishing during my down-time. But I did not do that, and the result was a short . . . let's call it a sabbatical. Had my time off. Recharged a little bit. Now I'm back fresh, with some new ideas, ready to bring more info to you (and not just about my little life).
And really, that's what an off-season is supposed to be.
Monday, November 9, 2009
Race Report: HPT Grand Prix CX
This was a cool race.
The course was laid out at Topeka's Heritage Park, which is a racing track. You know, where they race things with motors.
Except on this night (yes, it was an avondcross, or evening cross race), all the racing was of the two-wheeled variety.
Like the other races in the 60CX series, the women go in the first round of racing, along with most of the masters. What that means for us is that we get to pack down the grass for the big boys, which I don't think is fair at all. Of course, the trade off is that any chicanes and sharp corners that are likely to get slick aren't too bad (at least not until towards the end of the race).
This course was different from any other CX course I've been on, and not only because it was dark when I was riding it. Started on a short strip of tarmac, then a moderate, grassy uphill into a downhill chicane. Few more yards of tarmac, then a hard right into the racing arena and on to some of the finest surface you could ask for in a CX race. The dirt was hard packed, but with some texture, almost like course sand, but softer. It was fast. I even got into my big chain ring (53) on that stuff. Hammered around the outside of the race track, then a 180 switchback and more hard dirt riding into the wind. A sharp right onto the infield, with some (very) patchy grass, still moving fast. Through a small dip with a little mud (take the smoothest line and you don't even get wet), a right turn that's sharper than it looks, a little more grass, and hammer so you can beat anyone around you to the best line going into a series of very tricky (very fun) switchbacks. Left, then sharp right, then right, then left, like a snake folding back on itself. Out and around, through more grass, crossing the track, then uphill and hard right along the back straightaway of the dirt track. A downhill chicane (more than a little scary on that loose, sliding dirt) and then stairs. That's right, stairs. Sharp ramp off the stairs (out of the arena, now), slight left, another chicane, then downhill and around the backside of the arena. Bumpy bumpy bumpy, and watch that huge bump (got worse as the night went on and got darker) at the bottom of the hill. Then the grass gets thicker and thicker as you move into a false flat. Steep hill (only about 8-10 yards of it, but gotta be 20%), fight over it, then fight the urge to recover as you head back into the tarmac. Another chicane (don't hit that tree!), up and around to another flight of stairs. Remount, one more chicane, then a hard left and do it all over again. Phew.
Topeka is a 2-hour drive (if you interpret the speed limit somewhat liberally) from me. Rode up with my Cross Yoda, who got very chatty about 30 minutes after he had a little energy drink. We arrived 20 minutes before registration for my race closed. We changed and got all our gear, then went to take our bikes off the rack. I aired my tires up before I took the bike off the rack (I have to let air out of my tires to get the wheels on, because I use my road bike for cross and it doesn't have cantilevers), and must have finagled the valve stem into a strange position. After I aired the rear tire up and went to get it off the car, I heard a "CLICK pfshhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh." Shit. It's now 15 minutes until registration closes, and my rear tire is flat.
Fortunately, my new investment (a pair of Bontrager Jones CX tires) totally paid off. And I do mean investment. Those tires were $50 a pop (although, thanks to our awesome sponsor, I got a good deal on them). I had the tube out and changed in 3 minutes flat. Stress level returned to normal. Plenty of time to register, pee, and pre-ride the course before staging.
As I was riding a warm-up lap, I realized that I really, really didn't want to race. Seriously. Not only had I not been on my bike for a full week, I hadn't been off-road in at least three. I told you how my mojo's been off. That's translated to almost no outdoor cycling, and absolutely no CX practice. Also, I've never ever ever had to do stairs with my bike. My bike weighs 23 fucking pounds; it's a 44 cm triple-walled aluminum monstrosity with a steel fork. And I am very, very short. In order to get that bike high enough to clear stairs, I have to get the top tube on my shoulder. I can't reach down under the down tube and set the seat on my shoulder (I tried) because the front wheel isn't high enough to clear. And I can't curl 23 lbs with my right arm (the shoulder is FUBAR). Which means that in order to get up those steps, I have to squat down low enough to get a shoulder under the top tube (which--believe me--is way, way low, even for me). Of course, none of that would be a big problem if I'd been practicing run-ups. Which I haven't been, stairs or no stairs.
At any rate, I totally wasn't feeling the race vibe. I didn't want to suffer. I didn't want to hurt. I didn't want to fight. I seriously considered chucking the race fee and calling it a night. But it was $20, plus the 2-hour drive up and the 2-hour drive back, plus gas and turnpike tolls . . . so I sucked it up and staged with the other women.
Big field, at this one. 14-15 in the Cat 4, and about another 10 in the open. That's a significant number, for the women's field. Lots of mountain bikes, too.
I learned from the last race that I don't want to get too good a starting position. Especially at this point in my season, I can't hang with the big girls, and I don't want to put myself into that much hurt early in the race. So I tried to get a good enough start to clear most of the chaos (especially coming into that first chicane), but didn't push to get good position. My plan was to sit in and see how things developed.
Most of the women took off without me, but I started making serious headway once we got onto the track. I put it in a big gear and hammered. I quickly established myself with a group of two other women, and followed some wheels before I realized I could whip around them with no trouble. It was a little dicey in the infield on that first lap, before everyone broke up, but I beat a few girls by getting to the inside line.
I lost all the time I'd gained on the stairs. That chicane made me really nervous, and every time I stopped, dismounted (and not the cool way), and ran up the stairs and down the ramp. I was very tentative with those steps all night. Through the grass, I made up some more ground, but really had a rough time getting over that steep hill on the back side of the arena. It was full-body, wrenching the handle bars, trying to get my damn ass over the top, then regain some momentum coming out of it. The second set of stairs was not as bad as the first, but I still lost time there.
Every time I hit that second set of stairs, I could hear spectators crying, "C'mon, Sandy!" Now Sandy is a woman I met at Smithville last year. She's a triathlete, too. She does Emporia every year. We've done several CX races together. And I've always beaten her. So when I heard people calling her name as she's right on my tail coming into those stairs, I knew I had to give it all I got, take the best lines through the chicanes, and let loose on the track. That strategy worked pretty well, too. I put some serious time on her on the track. But every time, I lost so much of it back at the stairs. On lap 3 or 4, she passed me on the second set of stairs. I gapped her in the arena. She passed me on the other stairs. I caught her in the grass. We traded off and on for the next couple laps. With 2 laps to go, she had a sizable gap on me (again, from the stairs), but I was gaining on her through the infield, and caught her on the back straightaway. Again, stairs. She dismounted and remounted beautifully, and I looked like a camel (I'm sure) getting bandy-legged off my bike, running up the stairs and down the other side. I happened to look down at my chain ring and notice that it was in the granny gear (which is not where I'd put it), and stopped to readjust it. I didn't want to risk losing it completely when I hit the big hole on the backside. That's where I lost Sandy. Once we got onto the grass, I could see she was still within striking distance and I thought, "Okay, still have 2 laps to go, just pace yourself." I knew I could catch her with 2 laps. But I didn't put it all on the line with 1 lap to go, because I didn't want to blow up and really lose it. They stopped us after that second-to-last lap, though; we'd already been lapped by about half the masters field, and the top woman, as well (she started 15 seconds ahead of us). So I never got a chance to catch Sandy.
But I definitely found my mojo at this race. And even though Sandy and I were fighting for 9/10 place, it was definitely a battle. And every ounce of mental and physical energy I had was going into that battle. It was amazing. And invigorating. At the end of the race, I found myself wishing that I could go out and do it again. I think part of that was the course design; I never felt that tired, burny, oh gods make it stop feeling that you normally get at a CX race. I think that the course was laid out in such a way that you can follow the flow of it without the start/stop sprint/coast dynamic of most courses. It was still a tough course, but in a very different way.
I was really happy with my performance in the race, even though I only place 10/13. Cross Yoda kept telling me, "Hey! Top 10! That's not bad!" but I just can't get excited about placing only 3 spots up from DFL. And last time I got 6/12. So if nothing else, I have to prolong the CX season for one more race, just to prove that I belong in the middle of the pack (not at the bottom).
Of course, it might also help if I would actually practice.
Additionally, I would like to give major props to Cross Yoda, who--in spite of crashing in a big tangle-up in the first chicane--came back to get 4th place! And props to Boulevard Brewing, as well, for providing post-race refreshment for free.
The course was laid out at Topeka's Heritage Park, which is a racing track. You know, where they race things with motors.
Except on this night (yes, it was an avondcross, or evening cross race), all the racing was of the two-wheeled variety.
Like the other races in the 60CX series, the women go in the first round of racing, along with most of the masters. What that means for us is that we get to pack down the grass for the big boys, which I don't think is fair at all. Of course, the trade off is that any chicanes and sharp corners that are likely to get slick aren't too bad (at least not until towards the end of the race).
This course was different from any other CX course I've been on, and not only because it was dark when I was riding it. Started on a short strip of tarmac, then a moderate, grassy uphill into a downhill chicane. Few more yards of tarmac, then a hard right into the racing arena and on to some of the finest surface you could ask for in a CX race. The dirt was hard packed, but with some texture, almost like course sand, but softer. It was fast. I even got into my big chain ring (53) on that stuff. Hammered around the outside of the race track, then a 180 switchback and more hard dirt riding into the wind. A sharp right onto the infield, with some (very) patchy grass, still moving fast. Through a small dip with a little mud (take the smoothest line and you don't even get wet), a right turn that's sharper than it looks, a little more grass, and hammer so you can beat anyone around you to the best line going into a series of very tricky (very fun) switchbacks. Left, then sharp right, then right, then left, like a snake folding back on itself. Out and around, through more grass, crossing the track, then uphill and hard right along the back straightaway of the dirt track. A downhill chicane (more than a little scary on that loose, sliding dirt) and then stairs. That's right, stairs. Sharp ramp off the stairs (out of the arena, now), slight left, another chicane, then downhill and around the backside of the arena. Bumpy bumpy bumpy, and watch that huge bump (got worse as the night went on and got darker) at the bottom of the hill. Then the grass gets thicker and thicker as you move into a false flat. Steep hill (only about 8-10 yards of it, but gotta be 20%), fight over it, then fight the urge to recover as you head back into the tarmac. Another chicane (don't hit that tree!), up and around to another flight of stairs. Remount, one more chicane, then a hard left and do it all over again. Phew.
Topeka is a 2-hour drive (if you interpret the speed limit somewhat liberally) from me. Rode up with my Cross Yoda, who got very chatty about 30 minutes after he had a little energy drink. We arrived 20 minutes before registration for my race closed. We changed and got all our gear, then went to take our bikes off the rack. I aired my tires up before I took the bike off the rack (I have to let air out of my tires to get the wheels on, because I use my road bike for cross and it doesn't have cantilevers), and must have finagled the valve stem into a strange position. After I aired the rear tire up and went to get it off the car, I heard a "CLICK pfshhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh." Shit. It's now 15 minutes until registration closes, and my rear tire is flat.
Fortunately, my new investment (a pair of Bontrager Jones CX tires) totally paid off. And I do mean investment. Those tires were $50 a pop (although, thanks to our awesome sponsor, I got a good deal on them). I had the tube out and changed in 3 minutes flat. Stress level returned to normal. Plenty of time to register, pee, and pre-ride the course before staging.
As I was riding a warm-up lap, I realized that I really, really didn't want to race. Seriously. Not only had I not been on my bike for a full week, I hadn't been off-road in at least three. I told you how my mojo's been off. That's translated to almost no outdoor cycling, and absolutely no CX practice. Also, I've never ever ever had to do stairs with my bike. My bike weighs 23 fucking pounds; it's a 44 cm triple-walled aluminum monstrosity with a steel fork. And I am very, very short. In order to get that bike high enough to clear stairs, I have to get the top tube on my shoulder. I can't reach down under the down tube and set the seat on my shoulder (I tried) because the front wheel isn't high enough to clear. And I can't curl 23 lbs with my right arm (the shoulder is FUBAR). Which means that in order to get up those steps, I have to squat down low enough to get a shoulder under the top tube (which--believe me--is way, way low, even for me). Of course, none of that would be a big problem if I'd been practicing run-ups. Which I haven't been, stairs or no stairs.
At any rate, I totally wasn't feeling the race vibe. I didn't want to suffer. I didn't want to hurt. I didn't want to fight. I seriously considered chucking the race fee and calling it a night. But it was $20, plus the 2-hour drive up and the 2-hour drive back, plus gas and turnpike tolls . . . so I sucked it up and staged with the other women.
Big field, at this one. 14-15 in the Cat 4, and about another 10 in the open. That's a significant number, for the women's field. Lots of mountain bikes, too.
I learned from the last race that I don't want to get too good a starting position. Especially at this point in my season, I can't hang with the big girls, and I don't want to put myself into that much hurt early in the race. So I tried to get a good enough start to clear most of the chaos (especially coming into that first chicane), but didn't push to get good position. My plan was to sit in and see how things developed.
Most of the women took off without me, but I started making serious headway once we got onto the track. I put it in a big gear and hammered. I quickly established myself with a group of two other women, and followed some wheels before I realized I could whip around them with no trouble. It was a little dicey in the infield on that first lap, before everyone broke up, but I beat a few girls by getting to the inside line.
I lost all the time I'd gained on the stairs. That chicane made me really nervous, and every time I stopped, dismounted (and not the cool way), and ran up the stairs and down the ramp. I was very tentative with those steps all night. Through the grass, I made up some more ground, but really had a rough time getting over that steep hill on the back side of the arena. It was full-body, wrenching the handle bars, trying to get my damn ass over the top, then regain some momentum coming out of it. The second set of stairs was not as bad as the first, but I still lost time there.
Every time I hit that second set of stairs, I could hear spectators crying, "C'mon, Sandy!" Now Sandy is a woman I met at Smithville last year. She's a triathlete, too. She does Emporia every year. We've done several CX races together. And I've always beaten her. So when I heard people calling her name as she's right on my tail coming into those stairs, I knew I had to give it all I got, take the best lines through the chicanes, and let loose on the track. That strategy worked pretty well, too. I put some serious time on her on the track. But every time, I lost so much of it back at the stairs. On lap 3 or 4, she passed me on the second set of stairs. I gapped her in the arena. She passed me on the other stairs. I caught her in the grass. We traded off and on for the next couple laps. With 2 laps to go, she had a sizable gap on me (again, from the stairs), but I was gaining on her through the infield, and caught her on the back straightaway. Again, stairs. She dismounted and remounted beautifully, and I looked like a camel (I'm sure) getting bandy-legged off my bike, running up the stairs and down the other side. I happened to look down at my chain ring and notice that it was in the granny gear (which is not where I'd put it), and stopped to readjust it. I didn't want to risk losing it completely when I hit the big hole on the backside. That's where I lost Sandy. Once we got onto the grass, I could see she was still within striking distance and I thought, "Okay, still have 2 laps to go, just pace yourself." I knew I could catch her with 2 laps. But I didn't put it all on the line with 1 lap to go, because I didn't want to blow up and really lose it. They stopped us after that second-to-last lap, though; we'd already been lapped by about half the masters field, and the top woman, as well (she started 15 seconds ahead of us). So I never got a chance to catch Sandy.
But I definitely found my mojo at this race. And even though Sandy and I were fighting for 9/10 place, it was definitely a battle. And every ounce of mental and physical energy I had was going into that battle. It was amazing. And invigorating. At the end of the race, I found myself wishing that I could go out and do it again. I think part of that was the course design; I never felt that tired, burny, oh gods make it stop feeling that you normally get at a CX race. I think that the course was laid out in such a way that you can follow the flow of it without the start/stop sprint/coast dynamic of most courses. It was still a tough course, but in a very different way.
I was really happy with my performance in the race, even though I only place 10/13. Cross Yoda kept telling me, "Hey! Top 10! That's not bad!" but I just can't get excited about placing only 3 spots up from DFL. And last time I got 6/12. So if nothing else, I have to prolong the CX season for one more race, just to prove that I belong in the middle of the pack (not at the bottom).
Of course, it might also help if I would actually practice.
Additionally, I would like to give major props to Cross Yoda, who--in spite of crashing in a big tangle-up in the first chicane--came back to get 4th place! And props to Boulevard Brewing, as well, for providing post-race refreshment for free.
Friday, November 6, 2009
Anyone Know a Good Mojo Doctor?
I think my mojo is afraid of H1N1.
That's the only reason I can think of that explains my mojo's obvious absence. I have no interest in blogging (obviously) or coaching; personal training is slow and I don't even care; I haven't even wanted to do a cyclocross race since Capital Cup (although I'm doing one this weekend--an avondcross!); my cycling classes are boring and I don't want to be there; I haven't swam in who the hell knows how long. My mojo is definitely on hiatus. Maybe it went to someplace tropical; maybe I can go visit it there.
You know what I've been doing a lot of, though? Running.
Of all things, right? Anyone remember when I hated running, when those were the only workouts I ever skipped, when I did an Olympic tri without having ever run more than 4.5 miles? Apparently, those days are over. I love running.
And I'd love to tell everyone how that happened (because I know I'm not the only one who's struggled with serious resentment towards one of our three sports), but I can't. Because I have no idea how it happened. Maybe it's like an arranged marriage--you spend enough time together, eventually you find love.
Anyway, if anyone knows a good mojo doctor, let me know. Otherwise, I'll just be waiting for this mojo affliction to run it's course. I'm sure that as the off-season progresses and I start reading about this race and that race and his plans and her plans, my mojo will take tentative steps back from Fiji or wherever it's gone.
That's the only reason I can think of that explains my mojo's obvious absence. I have no interest in blogging (obviously) or coaching; personal training is slow and I don't even care; I haven't even wanted to do a cyclocross race since Capital Cup (although I'm doing one this weekend--an avondcross!); my cycling classes are boring and I don't want to be there; I haven't swam in who the hell knows how long. My mojo is definitely on hiatus. Maybe it went to someplace tropical; maybe I can go visit it there.
You know what I've been doing a lot of, though? Running.
Of all things, right? Anyone remember when I hated running, when those were the only workouts I ever skipped, when I did an Olympic tri without having ever run more than 4.5 miles? Apparently, those days are over. I love running.
And I'd love to tell everyone how that happened (because I know I'm not the only one who's struggled with serious resentment towards one of our three sports), but I can't. Because I have no idea how it happened. Maybe it's like an arranged marriage--you spend enough time together, eventually you find love.
Anyway, if anyone knows a good mojo doctor, let me know. Otherwise, I'll just be waiting for this mojo affliction to run it's course. I'm sure that as the off-season progresses and I start reading about this race and that race and his plans and her plans, my mojo will take tentative steps back from Fiji or wherever it's gone.
Friday, October 30, 2009
Remiss
That is what I have been. Remiss.
Not so much as a peep from me in a full week! I'm sorry!
To those of you who are awaiting response from me re: free coaching, I will e-mail before the weekend is out.
For those who have asked for a new spinning podcast, it is in the works (up in Garage Band as we speak)!
For those of you who have no requirements from me except for entertaining and informative reading . . . well, my endurance faculties seem to be hibernating. And my work schedule is cuh-razy. Seriously. I get off work at 3 p.m. today and it's *still* a 10-hour workday.
BUT! If you'd like to read what I'm reading (and some comments, besides), you can take a look at my Tumblr page: http://trihardist.tumblr.com/. On that site, I post articles that I read and find interesting, things that I think may be helpful, entertaining, or otherwise encouraging for my fellow athletes.
You can also follow me on Twitter. And between those two things, you can keep up with me (if you want to, although I must warn you that I'm not all that interesting) until I regain my blogging mojo.
Thank you for reading! And keep your eyes peeled for the latest installment in my one-on-one cycling workouts!
Not so much as a peep from me in a full week! I'm sorry!
To those of you who are awaiting response from me re: free coaching, I will e-mail before the weekend is out.
For those who have asked for a new spinning podcast, it is in the works (up in Garage Band as we speak)!
For those of you who have no requirements from me except for entertaining and informative reading . . . well, my endurance faculties seem to be hibernating. And my work schedule is cuh-razy. Seriously. I get off work at 3 p.m. today and it's *still* a 10-hour workday.
BUT! If you'd like to read what I'm reading (and some comments, besides), you can take a look at my Tumblr page: http://trihardist.tumblr.com/. On that site, I post articles that I read and find interesting, things that I think may be helpful, entertaining, or otherwise encouraging for my fellow athletes.
You can also follow me on Twitter. And between those two things, you can keep up with me (if you want to, although I must warn you that I'm not all that interesting) until I regain my blogging mojo.
Thank you for reading! And keep your eyes peeled for the latest installment in my one-on-one cycling workouts!
Sunday, October 18, 2009
Race Report: Capital Cross
At last: success!
I finally managed to get through a full cyclocross race without injury or incident. No flat tires. No twisted ankles. I still managed to fall and puncture my leg with my chainring while simultaneously bruising 82% of my shin, but that wasn't bad enough to prevent me from finishing. Truth be told, I didn't even realize how bad I'd hit myself until I finished the race and took my pants off.
Rode up with one of my Specs Racing teammates, Bob. Racing started at 11:00, and my race was one of the first (Cat. 4 women rode also with the women's open race and all the masters divisions). Having the first race on the course meant that I had the stiffest grass to contend with, and there was a ton of grass.
The course began with a nice, long stretch of pavement, but slightly uphill and with the north wind right in our faces. From there we moved into a long straightaway on the grass. The grass had been recently mowed, but it was still thick and stiff (that's what she said). Course dipped around into a ditch (riding off-camber), which led us around a tree, uphill and around another tree, then back through another straight-away the way we'd just come. Much of the course was like that: grass, tree, tree, grass. Slight uphill, slight downhill, slight turns. Two barriers in a small cluster of trees. Two separate times the course turned sharply and directly up steep hills (those were fun).
The highlight of the course was the Mound of Mercy, a banana-shaped embankment that was a moderate climb on the ends and steep in the middle. Course followed a few sharp turns around trees, then straight up the stem side of the banana. We rode steady around the banana's back, down the other side into some more off-camber section. 180* turn at the butt of the hill, then forced dismount for a barrier and a long, steep run-up. A small chicane followed the first run-up, then an even steeper downhill, another 180*, and a final run-up. Remount at the top of that run-up, then hammer back down the banana, left-hand turn, and through the finish line. 1.8 miles. And that's just lap one.
I lined up in the second row in a field of about 14 women. I'd read an article about how to get a good start in cyclocross races (because what else am I going to do at work at 5 in the morning), and I applied that new knowledge to excellent effect. I grabbed a wheel, passed, grabbed another wheel, passed, looking for a rabbit to chase. Going into the first grassy section, I was sitting in third position, with a fair gap back to the next woman. But as soon as we hit that first section, I knew that I was in trouble. The two women in front of me were much, much stronger. My body was already sending me messages: "Too much! Too soon! Abort! Abort!" I let them get ahead a little bit and tried to find a manageable pace. All my lines were good, but my power was not. I was already tasting blood, and could feel bile stirring up in my stomach. Coming through the second section of trees, the girl in fourth was right behind me. I let her go ahead, saying as she passed, "I already feel like I'm gonna throw up." This may have been about a quarter into the first lap.
I still had a fair gap back to the next two girls, two women from Free State. I probably had a 20 second gap on them. One was working her way up to me, and she passed me sometime around the second lap. Coming to the pair of barriers on the third lap, I fell while trying to remount my bike, and jammed my knee right down into my frame, between the top tube and down tube. It hurt enough that I pulled off to the side to assess the damage. My quad was definitely sore, and my shin was definitely bruised. It was stiff as I started pedaling again, but it worked out quickly. The other Free State gal had passed me at the barriers as I was pulling off to the side, and I was anxious to keep contact with her. She and I traded positions through laps 3 and 4, chatting as we passed and re-passed. I can't repeat all the things that were said, but we were both grateful when the masters men lapped us and we had a lap taken off of our race.
After lap 4, I was still in the lead over the FSR chick. I hammered through the tarmac, trying to put as much time into her as I could. I backed off the gas once I got into the grass, then focused on taking the best line and doing whatever was necessary to hold her off. She was within 10-15 seconds going into the Mound of Mercy for the last time, and I thought she was going to catch me on the final run-up. Fortunately, I was willing to suffer enough to hold her off, and once I got onto the last downhill, I was golden. Crossed the line in 6th place, after 5 laps and about 48 minutes of racing.
As often happens in these maximal exertion type races, everything has kind of blurred together into one long stretch of vague pain. I remember my one little fall. I remember the few passes. I remember a few of the lines I took on the off-camber portions, and the run-ups on the Mound of Mercy. I remember letting one girl pass me, because I figured she was racing as a junior. Silly me, the juniors' race didn't start until 12:15, so this girl (maybe 13-14) was racing as cat. 4 woman. I felt totally stupid when I saw the results, because I could have ridden the girl down--I was passing and re-passing her the whole time--but I didn't bother because I didn't think that it was worth it.
This course was tough for me. All that grass was really draining. Talking to another athlete after the race, she mentioned that it was "a real power course." I hadn't thought about it in those terms, before, but she was right. And the need for constant power really took its toll on me throughout the race. But the greatest limiter to my performance in this race was the inability to keep contact with the next rider, mentally. I found myself in no-man's land several times in the race, and its because I lack the mental toughness to pull a few extra watts out of my legs to hand on to another cyclist's wheel. If they're tough enough to pass me, then they must be tough enough to keep going. And I guess that in my head, I'm not that tough.
My goal for next weekend (Smithville Cross Festival) is to better maintain contact. If the course is anything like last year's, it should be good for me. A start on the pavement, some tricky handling work, a little bit of singletrack, and a good set of barriers. It's got that one steep run-up, so I'll need to find the lugs for my shoes. And it wouldn't hurt to practice a few steep run-ups at Sim Park cross practice this weekend.
Okay. I know what I need to do next time. I'm set.
I finally managed to get through a full cyclocross race without injury or incident. No flat tires. No twisted ankles. I still managed to fall and puncture my leg with my chainring while simultaneously bruising 82% of my shin, but that wasn't bad enough to prevent me from finishing. Truth be told, I didn't even realize how bad I'd hit myself until I finished the race and took my pants off.
Rode up with one of my Specs Racing teammates, Bob. Racing started at 11:00, and my race was one of the first (Cat. 4 women rode also with the women's open race and all the masters divisions). Having the first race on the course meant that I had the stiffest grass to contend with, and there was a ton of grass.
The course began with a nice, long stretch of pavement, but slightly uphill and with the north wind right in our faces. From there we moved into a long straightaway on the grass. The grass had been recently mowed, but it was still thick and stiff (that's what she said). Course dipped around into a ditch (riding off-camber), which led us around a tree, uphill and around another tree, then back through another straight-away the way we'd just come. Much of the course was like that: grass, tree, tree, grass. Slight uphill, slight downhill, slight turns. Two barriers in a small cluster of trees. Two separate times the course turned sharply and directly up steep hills (those were fun).
The highlight of the course was the Mound of Mercy, a banana-shaped embankment that was a moderate climb on the ends and steep in the middle. Course followed a few sharp turns around trees, then straight up the stem side of the banana. We rode steady around the banana's back, down the other side into some more off-camber section. 180* turn at the butt of the hill, then forced dismount for a barrier and a long, steep run-up. A small chicane followed the first run-up, then an even steeper downhill, another 180*, and a final run-up. Remount at the top of that run-up, then hammer back down the banana, left-hand turn, and through the finish line. 1.8 miles. And that's just lap one.
I lined up in the second row in a field of about 14 women. I'd read an article about how to get a good start in cyclocross races (because what else am I going to do at work at 5 in the morning), and I applied that new knowledge to excellent effect. I grabbed a wheel, passed, grabbed another wheel, passed, looking for a rabbit to chase. Going into the first grassy section, I was sitting in third position, with a fair gap back to the next woman. But as soon as we hit that first section, I knew that I was in trouble. The two women in front of me were much, much stronger. My body was already sending me messages: "Too much! Too soon! Abort! Abort!" I let them get ahead a little bit and tried to find a manageable pace. All my lines were good, but my power was not. I was already tasting blood, and could feel bile stirring up in my stomach. Coming through the second section of trees, the girl in fourth was right behind me. I let her go ahead, saying as she passed, "I already feel like I'm gonna throw up." This may have been about a quarter into the first lap.
I still had a fair gap back to the next two girls, two women from Free State. I probably had a 20 second gap on them. One was working her way up to me, and she passed me sometime around the second lap. Coming to the pair of barriers on the third lap, I fell while trying to remount my bike, and jammed my knee right down into my frame, between the top tube and down tube. It hurt enough that I pulled off to the side to assess the damage. My quad was definitely sore, and my shin was definitely bruised. It was stiff as I started pedaling again, but it worked out quickly. The other Free State gal had passed me at the barriers as I was pulling off to the side, and I was anxious to keep contact with her. She and I traded positions through laps 3 and 4, chatting as we passed and re-passed. I can't repeat all the things that were said, but we were both grateful when the masters men lapped us and we had a lap taken off of our race.
After lap 4, I was still in the lead over the FSR chick. I hammered through the tarmac, trying to put as much time into her as I could. I backed off the gas once I got into the grass, then focused on taking the best line and doing whatever was necessary to hold her off. She was within 10-15 seconds going into the Mound of Mercy for the last time, and I thought she was going to catch me on the final run-up. Fortunately, I was willing to suffer enough to hold her off, and once I got onto the last downhill, I was golden. Crossed the line in 6th place, after 5 laps and about 48 minutes of racing.
As often happens in these maximal exertion type races, everything has kind of blurred together into one long stretch of vague pain. I remember my one little fall. I remember the few passes. I remember a few of the lines I took on the off-camber portions, and the run-ups on the Mound of Mercy. I remember letting one girl pass me, because I figured she was racing as a junior. Silly me, the juniors' race didn't start until 12:15, so this girl (maybe 13-14) was racing as cat. 4 woman. I felt totally stupid when I saw the results, because I could have ridden the girl down--I was passing and re-passing her the whole time--but I didn't bother because I didn't think that it was worth it.
This course was tough for me. All that grass was really draining. Talking to another athlete after the race, she mentioned that it was "a real power course." I hadn't thought about it in those terms, before, but she was right. And the need for constant power really took its toll on me throughout the race. But the greatest limiter to my performance in this race was the inability to keep contact with the next rider, mentally. I found myself in no-man's land several times in the race, and its because I lack the mental toughness to pull a few extra watts out of my legs to hand on to another cyclist's wheel. If they're tough enough to pass me, then they must be tough enough to keep going. And I guess that in my head, I'm not that tough.
My goal for next weekend (Smithville Cross Festival) is to better maintain contact. If the course is anything like last year's, it should be good for me. A start on the pavement, some tricky handling work, a little bit of singletrack, and a good set of barriers. It's got that one steep run-up, so I'll need to find the lugs for my shoes. And it wouldn't hurt to practice a few steep run-ups at Sim Park cross practice this weekend.
Okay. I know what I need to do next time. I'm set.
Saturday, October 17, 2009
Runners' High: De-stress
I don't want to go into the details of cortisol production and clearance in the body and how that all relates to weight loss, weight gain, eating habits, working out, and so on. Part of that is because it takes too long to explain, and part of it is that I don't really understand it myself, and you can Google it just as easily as I can.
But while I may not understand the details of stress hormones, I do know when I feel that stuff pumping through my blood. I know it makes me want to eat, and it prefers sugars and fats to get its kicks.
Tonight, someone made me mad. They hurt my feelings and pissed me off. I'd already been working for 13 hours, and still had one hour left to go (on a Friday, by the way). I wanted to cry but couldn't. I wanted to call a friend and vent my spleen, but didn't have time, since I had one more appointment to make it through.
My last client of the day was what I call a Baby Swimmer--someone who is so new to swimming that she still fears to put her face in. Working with these swimmers is a very hands-on process, which means me in the water, sometimes lending a hand when Baby Swimmer says, "You're not gonna let me sink, right?" Point is, I was active. I was moving. I was in the water and (sort of) swimming, but at the very least using my body.
And I didn't really start making connections until I got out of the pool, into the shower, and started thinking about the situation that so greatly upset me in the first place. I was considering sending a nice, private e-mail, making sure my feelings were understood, and that everyone was on the same page. And as I was mentally composing this e-mail, I realized that I was thinking sensibly and rationally and reasonably and I was no longer feeling the flood of stress in my bloodstream.
In other words, a gentle workout helped to clear that shit out.
Just a reminder, then, of something we all probably know already: exercise makes you feel better. The next time you feel the tides of cortisol corroding your brain, make time for a little workout. Guarantee it'll clear your head, clear your heart, and clear your blood of those nasty stress hormones.
But while I may not understand the details of stress hormones, I do know when I feel that stuff pumping through my blood. I know it makes me want to eat, and it prefers sugars and fats to get its kicks.
Tonight, someone made me mad. They hurt my feelings and pissed me off. I'd already been working for 13 hours, and still had one hour left to go (on a Friday, by the way). I wanted to cry but couldn't. I wanted to call a friend and vent my spleen, but didn't have time, since I had one more appointment to make it through.
My last client of the day was what I call a Baby Swimmer--someone who is so new to swimming that she still fears to put her face in. Working with these swimmers is a very hands-on process, which means me in the water, sometimes lending a hand when Baby Swimmer says, "You're not gonna let me sink, right?" Point is, I was active. I was moving. I was in the water and (sort of) swimming, but at the very least using my body.
And I didn't really start making connections until I got out of the pool, into the shower, and started thinking about the situation that so greatly upset me in the first place. I was considering sending a nice, private e-mail, making sure my feelings were understood, and that everyone was on the same page. And as I was mentally composing this e-mail, I realized that I was thinking sensibly and rationally and reasonably and I was no longer feeling the flood of stress in my bloodstream.
In other words, a gentle workout helped to clear that shit out.
Just a reminder, then, of something we all probably know already: exercise makes you feel better. The next time you feel the tides of cortisol corroding your brain, make time for a little workout. Guarantee it'll clear your head, clear your heart, and clear your blood of those nasty stress hormones.
Wednesday, October 14, 2009
The Next Step: Coaching
First off, Joe Friel (author of the Training Bible series) just did a few blog posts on how to choose the right coach; you should check it out.
As for me, the economy has not been kind to personal trainers (or not to me, anyway, but my sales skills are pretty paltry), and I can't afford a coach. There's nothing wrong with coaching yourself; that's what most of us do anyway. But there's no denying the efficacy of hiring a good coach to make you faster.
With that in mind . . .
I've been giving some thought to something that Speedy said . . . something about not wanting to waste $200/month just to have some schmuck who's read The Triathlete's Training Bible impose rigid periodization on her. Or something. In other words, someone who's learned things from experience and from Triathlete Magazine; someone who's had success as a coach, but also as an athlete; someone who's actually (you know) been there.
Well I've been there in terms of personal training, but not in coaching.
Sure, I've coached plenty of athletes to their first triathlon, their first half marathon, even their first half ironman. But I haven't really taken an athlete and made him or her faster and stronger through my ingenuity and their hard work.
Which is why I need you.
I need experience, and you need coaching. So I'm extending an offer of 6 months of free coaching to two athletes (don't want to spread myself any thinner than that). There are a few requirements for this coaching. You have to have done some racing before (you need to be at the "next step" phase of training). You have to be willing to work hard. You have to have a good amount of patience with me, as I'm going to be figuring my coaching process and style out. And you need to live at least 50 miles away from me (so we don't run into trouble with my non-compete contract).
If you're interested in being one of my two coached athletes, send me an e-mail (jamielynnmorton[at]gmail[dot]com). Include your name, e-mail address, a phone number where I can reach you, and why you want to be coached. And we can go from there.
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