A Triathlon in the Capital

Austin is filled with so many places with cool, inviting, colorful and retro signage that it's a little overwhelming. You've got two days and two nights and a million possibilities to explore. There just isn't enough time for it all.

The Capital of Texas Triathlon was the highlight of our Austin weekend, but we tasted a few other activities that the city has to offer, my favorites being a drive by Town Lake (SO many paddle boards and kayaks), a Radny Foster concert (Keith Urban signs his songs Raining on Sunday and I'm In, Sara Evans sings his song A Real Fine Place to Start, the Dixie Chick sang Godspeed (Sweet Dreams)) and lunch at Threadgill's (Tuna and Spinach Salad was awesome).  

As you can tell from the last two posts, I was nervous going into this olympic distance triathlon, which is the longest triathlon I've completed so far. I'm usually a bundle of nerves the night before a big race, but the nerves showed up a week ahead of schedule. The swim went smoothly, and the bike was really fun, but I had some trouble with the running.

The swim was in Town Lake, which is really a river, and passed underneath two bridges. My family was able to stand on one of the bridges and find me in the water, which was really cool because they can never pick me out of the swim crowd.

The water was SUPER COLD at 70 degrees, but once we got moving, it felt perfect.

I took it really easy, finishing the 1500 meter swim in 30:52, not tired and ready for the bike.

I was worried about the bike route; I was sure it would be full of Austin's rolling hills. And when I realized that it was a lap course, and that I would be doing four laps, I freaked out a little. But it also made the perfect spot for my fans to sit and wait for me.

There were only three difficult hills (well, times four, so twelve), the rest of the route was relatively flat. 

You know that face you make when
you're really exerting yourself?
Well, mine looks like a smile.
 It looks like I'm smiling
in all of the bike pictures.

The scariest moment on the bike was when the wind almost blew my tires out from under me. After that, I got really low into the handlebars when I past that same area and didn't have any more wind related problems.

While I may look really cool in this picture,
I was actually very, very scared of falling
because of the wind.

I finished the 25 mile bike in 1:54:58.

The hardest part of the triathlon was the run. Even though I felt great and was smiling during the bike, somewhere along the way, my feet fell asleep. I noticed it a few times but didn't think much of it. But when I got to the transition area, I had to walk my bike in because I could run. My feet were asleep! And once they woke up, they really hurt.

I can't remember if I was tired, or hurting anywhere else or any other contributing factors, but I that if I didn't have the foot problem, I would have been okay.

See? I'm smiling. And I was not a happy runner.

So the run was disappointing, and was more of a walk with a few moments of slow running, and there were moments when I was sure I was going to quit because it was taking me FOREVER, but I finished it. I finished it! In 1:34:54, but still, I finished.

So now I've accomplished that. I'm one step closer to an Ironman. And I know how to diagnose my foot/bike problem (shoes too tight, socks too thick, clips to far forward on foot, seat position).

The best part of this race, and the part I forgot to post about originally, is that when I got started on the bike, I looked to my left and saw an old man in a nude colored thong bikini bottom riding a bike on the sidewalk. It was hilarious! I had to ask some race watchers if they saw him too, just to make sure I didn't need to turn around and go to the medical tent. But no, it was just a little piece of Austin saying Hello.

Side note: other really cool Radney Foster songs: A Little Revival, Angel Flight, Until it's Gone, Everyday Angel and so many many other songs that you would hear and think, "I've heard that somewhere..."  Here's more

(Side note two: These race photos are from Brightroom.com, and my mother in law, but while looking for pictures to post, I came across http://www.ericwynn.org/. Excellent and Inspiring sports photography/photo illustrations. Check him out! My favorite, or one of them, is the man with BELIEF written across his face.)

I Eat Triathlons for Breakfast. Part 2.

This is me, motivating myself. I still feel anxious about this race. I've got less than a week. And I need to stop operating from fear and start operating from fact.

Swimming is your thing. You can swim a mile. You've won swim meets. You have first place medals and ribbons. You have people cheering for you. Coach David ran along a pool, rolling his arms and cheering you on even when you swam for a different team. You finish in the top five of your age group. But even with all of that, if you need a break, take one.

From http://www.trifuel.com/forum/16606/motivational-sayings-or-signs-or-mantras

You can own 25 miles on a bike. You've done it before. The second ride you ever did was 30 miles on a 40 lb. steal frame bike. You and your bike are both 20 pounds lighter now.

You are a slow runner. That's okay. You've run more than 6 miles before. At mile six of the White Rock Half Marathon, You were thinking about highfiving little kids and eating giant greasy cheeseburgers and drinking beer.

People think you eat triathlons for breakfast.

From http://www.bpr.com/triathlon/poetry.htm

You motivate people.

You choose what you think. These are your mantras: You can move. You have legs. You have freedom. You can do things that other people can't do.  Find your strong. Strong is what's left when you've used up all your weak. Just don't quit, go slow, but don't quit. Don't worry about what doesn't happen. You don't hurt. You can still breath. This is a will power thing, and you have will power. You're a runner. You're a triathlete. You're Katie and you eat triathlons for breakfast.

I Eat Triathlons for Breakfast. Part 1.

Next weekend is a big weekend for me. It will be my first olympic distance triathlon, which is twice as long as any triathlon I've completed in my past two years of triathloning. The swim is just under a mile, the bike just under 25 miles and the run, 6 miles.

Up until now, I've felt confident about this race. I haven't been worried. I've always finished, no matter how hard or intimating a race seemed. Like my friend Katie H. said, I eat sprint triathlons for breakfast. That's not actually true, but it sounds nice.

But now I'm scared. What if I can't do it? What if I can't even finish the swim? I've got all these thoughts racing through my head: It's a long race. It's in one week. I'm not ready. People will be there watching me. My family has a hotel room and my in-laws are bringing the camper. This is an event, and it's in Austin. Austin is hilly. Isn't Lance Armstrong from Austin? I wonder if he'll be there.

Even this morning during my swim, I was motivated by fear to keep going. I'm all for getting yourself through a hard workout, but that was too stressful for me. I wan't to feel proud after a workout, not doubtful.

But then I found this post/draft that I wrote in July 2010, about halfway through our big summer sales project:

I've been worried, scared even, about a big project at work.  Lets just say that I assumed "The Project" was about one eigth complete, while at the same time last year, the same project was about half way completed. Hence the fear.  The dread! I expressed this concern to my boss, ever so calmly.  After checking the figures,we discovered that said project is, in fact, right on track.  Half way complete. "Oh," I said, "I don't know why I was so worried." My boss replied, "It's because you're operating from fear, not fact."

That's what I'm doing now. Operating from fear. My goal today is to get back on track, to stop operating from fear and start working with the facts. I'm about to give myself a giant pep talk.

Triathlons can be fun too

Most people think of triathlons as impossible to accomplish tasks that crazy people invented to torture their bodies. 

They are, but they can be fun too. My two friends and I completed the Lake Tejas Triathlon relay this past weekend. I'm pretty sure we don't feel tortured at all. Throughout the day, we actually described this race as "laid back".

Because we signed up for a relay in a sprint triathlon, we all had an adequate amount of physical activity to complete. I swam about 400 meters, Nicole ran three miles and Katie H. biked 13 miles. All three legs were the perfect amount of physically challenging for each of us. Just enough to touch that competitive nerve but not so much that we had to sleep for three days afterwards.

If your exercise goal is a 5k run, why not make it a group goal and do the 5k run as part of a triathlon relay? It's a great way to get other people invested in their own wellness and yours, and you automatically have two fans cheering for you. 

This race was in it's first year, so it was less organized. Less intense. Everyone was having fun. I brought my dog, which I wouldn't have been able to do if I was doing the whole race myself. He had a blast playing with the little kids, swimming in the water and eating all sorts of things.

We made a day of it, but it could have easily been a nice weekend camping trip. Even though we really were in the middle of nowhere, I could have stayed at this lake forever. It was more of a swimming hole, with a sandy beach area.

And if you have ever completed a race of any sort, you know that random people cheering for you on the sidelines make a huge difference. We did that too. Cooper (the dog) enjoyed it just as much as we did.

If your looking for a short trip idea, I think this is a great one. It has nature, physical activity, competitiveness and a group of friends right there with you. And one happy dog, who is now bathed and brushed and much cleaner than he was in this picture.

Lap Swim

When I swam laps Tuesday morning, I felt like this:

http://www.zevs.net/unusual-swimming-animals/

This morning, when I woke up, I felt like this:

http://www.animaltalk.us/swimming-isnt-just-for-the-dogs/

Then I did a little bit of this:

http://www.orange-ct.info/aquatic.html

And a little bit of this:

http://www.zimbio.com/pictures/fDpxr74q8-g/Olympic+Team+Trials+Swimming+Day+3

And eventually, I felt a little more like this, which is much more to my liking:

http://www.treehugger.com/files/2007/05/white_tiger_swimming.php

A Triathlon Relay

Here's a backlog for you:  The Katy Triathlon relay I did with two friends in 2009.  This was my second race and I went back in 2010, a few months ago, and did it solo.  So did one of my relay teammates.  

I did the cycling portion of the relay on my dad's twenty year old, forty pound steal framed Schwinn Paramount.  I called it the Black Stallion because it was beautiful but slow and stubborn when I rode it.  The new bike, A Trek Madone which has not yet been named, weighs half as much and is much easier to ride.   

A relay was a great way to experience one of my first races because I had friends right there with me; a built in support system.  

I don't think I will do another sprint triathlon relay.  I just feel too antsy waiting my turn.  I would like to do the swimming portion for a long distance relay, like an Ironman 70.3 or full ironman, so 1.5 to 2.5 miles.  I am a pretty decent swimmer and if I found a really good runner and cyclist, we might actually be a competitive team.  That would be a nice change of pace, considering that I am in no way competitive on the bike or on foot.  However, I don't think these longer races offer a relay option.  Sounds like a catch 22...

I think I just set a new Slowlady fitness goal.  By the way, Slowlady is my new Fitness Super Hero name.  I haven't decided on the colors of my uniform yet, but it will most likely involve glitter.

A marathon: part one

I had no idea!  Really, someone should have told me what that was going to be like.  Or maybe not, because I might have rethought this whole marathon in two parts thing.  I don't think I would ever do another one if I wasn't already registered for it.  I'm hurting!  But maybe it's because I only realized I would be able to run this half marathon at the beginning of October, or because the farthest I've ever run before was eight miles, which does not prepare one for thirteen miles.  Either way, here's my recap, with images dispersed in between.

Pre Race: Nervous. Anxious. Freezing because the sun is not up yet. I go inside and stretch until it's time to get lined up.

Mile one: Okay, let's do this! I got my tunes going, I'm warmed up, the start gun went off... now I just have to wait 28 minutes until my section gets to actually start running. Once I get going, I realize that either the people around me are faster than they think or I grossly overestimated my pace because I am getting passed like crazy.

Mile two: Oops, my pants are too big! They keep sliding down so I stop to tie them up. People are warming up fast.  there are fleeces and jackets and gloves along the side of the road. Not me, my fingers are still chilly so I have my gloves on and my hand covers from my pull over on top of those.  Burrr!

Mile three: We hit Ross Ave. I can see the top of the First United Methodist Church where Pres and I got married up the road. I can see the Fairmont, which is where we all stayed. I remember walking across Ross Ave. with Pres to the Dallas Museum of Art on the way to our reception. I know the route is going to turn right before I get there, but it is a nice reminder.

Mile four: Turning on to McKinney Ave, one of my favorite parts of Dallas. Pres and my parents are somewhere between mile four and five... I wonder if I can just stop running when I see them and go home because my hip is hurting. I spot them right away, but they are on the other side of the road so I can't stop to say hi. Guess I'll just have to keep going.

Mile five: I've finally started warming up and I'm glad that I bought the running gloves with the little clasp that hooks onto my pants, which no longer feel too big because they are stuck to my sweaty legs.

Mile six: I'm starting to fantasize about riding to the finish in a golf cart. I need to find some little kids to high five. I smell hamburgers and decide that I'm eating a big fat juicy burger when I finish.

Mile seven: I'm doing a lot of walking; my hip is really sore. I'm scared that I'm going to tear Sadie again (Sadie is the name I gave my left sartorius muscle when I tore it several months ago).

Mile eight: I started eating little pieces of the Coconut Cream Pie Larabar in my pocket a few miles ago; I'm waiting for that to kick in.  Some lady just "pulled" up beside me and said she had been admiring my pull over for a few miles. This is the second complement I've received on my top during the half marathon.  Yeah, I'm gross and sweaty and I still get compliments. That's right.

Mile nine: Pres is waiting for me at the end of mile nine. I stop and walk with him for a few blocks, making sure he knows to get me to a burger stat when we're done. I realize that my lungs hurt when I try to talk. This is a much needed break.

Mile ten: Sadie doesn't feel sore anymore, so I've told myself no more walking until I finish.

Mile eleven: I'm passing people! And I have good songs on my playlist that are pushing me through. I'm singing out loud (but softly so no one hears me!)

Mile twelve: Still going strong; still passing people. I'm running behind a woman who has some kind of handicap; it looks like her legs are only moving from the knees down. She's faster than me! If she can this, then so can I.

Mile thirteen: This is a long mile. I keep thinking the end is right around the corner... there it is! No, that's a chop shop. Oh, there it is!  Wait, that a used car sales banner.  Oh, THERE it is! No, that's just the mile 1 marker... does that mean mile thirteen hasn't even started yet? But when I finally do see the finish banner, I get excited. And as I'm approaching, I see myself on a big monitor. I don't look so bad running, especially for someone that couldn't run a month and a half ago. When I cross the finish line, they call out Nacogdoches (and pronounce it correctly) and my name (and pronounce it correctly, too) and I'm done. I'm done!

Post Race: I pass the people with the tacky trash bag blankets because I'm hot and I don't think I need one. As I'm walking toward the food and water tables, I start to feel like I'm going to pass out and that I may end up on a golf cart anyway. I grab a metal, a shirt, two bananas and two glasses of water and head outside to find Preston. When I find him, I realize that I'm freezing. I immediately regret my decision to not get an awesome trash bag blanket, but we get my soaking-wet-yet-still-looks-good pull over off and Pres' gives me his fleece. When we get to the car, we notice that my calfs look like little nerf footballs and I can't stop laughing...

 I think I'm delirious. And what do we do? We go to the Burger Bar and eat big gross cheeseburgers with sweet potato fries and drink fat tires, even though I'm allergic to all of those things. And then I sleep for two days. The end... or to be continued in part two of "A Marathon in Two Parts" which hits March 2011.