vicious cycle.

I've been working more, and on the road more, so I've been less happy. When I'm not happy I work out more, which makes me happier, until I overdo it and get burned out, when I become less happy yet. So I work out more, trying to get the happy back... layer that with my love for beer (I'm like a chocoholic, but for beer) and the effect that lots of working out has on drinking tolerance, and I'm sure you can imagine that I'm an absolute one-girl clown college lately.

Yesterday I did more than an hour of sprint intervals on the bike (changed a tire, so no flats!), then came home, changed, and took Molly for a negative splits 3 miler. This morning I felt pretty toasted but went out on a 7.5 mi long slow run, where I saw both a charity walk and a charity run on the lake front. (They need to build another lake, this one's getting altogether too crowded.)

Funny story, though: on the way there I thought the riverfront trail under Michigan was finally done, so Molly and I ran down there... and found some guys welding. Guess it wasn't done. One guy, though, says, "that's a beautiful dog!" and starts talking dogs with me, he himself owns a rescued bloodhound and a rescued English bully. He stops his coworkers from welding and escorts me through the construction area. "I'm only doing this because you have such a nice dog." Huh. All three guys smiled and waved, and I waved back, and avoided a 1/4 mile detour up the stairs and over the road.

My back is slowly getting better. I've started actually stretching after workouts (huh, what an idea!) and Molly loves it. A while back the NYT had a totally silly article about doggy yoga that I marveled at (how could a 70# pitty do that?) but now I know that Molly just likes it when I'm closer to the floor. And I've been using Audrey's foam roller daily, which helps too. Little by little...

I'd love to hit up some trail today, but I have a new niece to visit. Tomorrow, I'm working the Wonder Lake Crit.

trials and tribulations of LFP training.

It's been a long week. i'm on program and pretty burned out, between work travels and work stresses and trying to fit all the workouts in plus wanting to keep running with Molly. I guess it's a lot. For example, this morning I was on the road by 6:30am for work. I got home in time to squeeze in grocery shopping, an interval workout on the path, actual stretching and fun with Audrey's foam roller to try to fix my back, and barely have dinner before right now, 8pm. And I have a flight tomorrow morning. And Molly went to daycare since I didn't get to run her. Thinking about vacation again...

I'm trying to get comfortable with going faster on the path. I'm not. It's been cold and rainy this week (luckily?) so there are fewer people to contend with, but I still get a little creeped out about the people out there.

I also have terrible curses. They're better known as Conti Sport tires, now on a 6th ride where I somehow eeked out a flat-free workout, for a total score of 4 for 6 (that's flats on 4 of 6 rides). Do yourself a favor and don't ride on these tires. It's now bad enough where I'm allowing time to patch tubes after rides and, not wanting to keep paying for CO2 cartridges, I'm pocketing a pump. Great fun.

So, hope y'all are having fun times. The good part of the day is right now-- couch time. Ben's right there <- and so is molly. hearts.

can i blame my tires? DFL #2.

(photo from Amy) Yeah, tires.... well, not really. The trail got all technical and I sorta gave up, really.

Amy and I left the blue sky in Chicago and just as we pulled into Greenbush, it started to pour. Soon riders were coming back from their laps muddy and telling tales- saying the trail was greasy, saying it was unsafe, warning of the off-camber. The 12 hour riders were taking a break, waiting for it to dry out a little. The race organizer even asked the 3 hr crowd whether we wanted to postpone. (Postpone invariably means cancel, so of course we said no!)

The race started and I didn't even try. I let everyone past. I really like riding my own pace and especially with everything wet and slippery, i had no interest in that little first-lap sprint. Jason from Killjoy went down twice right away. I sort of just stood there and thought, well, even if i walk a lap, that counts. So I pressed on.

It was slick, and with my crossmark tires, I just kept sliding around. I couldn't stand and climb or my tires would just spin, and the greasy downhills were like riding on ice. I walked a good part of the first section. It would have been fast and awesome, but it was technical and slow. I fell in poison ivy alot. Then it dried up, got fun, and was fine through the end.

I stopped after one lap, not wanting to do that first section again. Screw the mud. The funny part is, both Killjoy Jason and Hemme forgot to go by the timing tent before they dropped out after 1 lap, so my lap time was faster than theirs. Not that it matters... Amy wanted the series points so she went out for a 2nd, which she later reported was not fun.

and so, DFL #2, aka 6th.

last day of vacation

Why is it that the last day of vacation is always the most gorgeous, warm, sunny-perfect day?

Ben and I set out to repeat Monday's ride yesterday morning-- it was the only trail we knew well enough to find our way through. Climb from Paul's house up up up to the trailhead. Then some steep down and up over little bridges and through two deep ravines populated with redwoods, then some easier singletrack before a long sweeping descent through a wildflower field to the ocean. The singletrack in the ravines is narrow-ish and just off the trail it drops off steeply, totally scary. The climbs were steep and longer than we're used to, but I have the power to make it through now. The view from the downhill is stunning. And the rocky exposed sandstone of the trail is slightly terrifying. Not technical, just kind of intimidating. I got sunburned.

Overall, though, Santa Cruz is just an amazing place. Paul and Holly were wonderful hosts and everyone we met was so friendly- Ben's teammates, Aaron from Ibis who let Ben demo a bike for days (!), Jeff Traugott who told stories of guitars for Charlie Hunter and John Mayer, just everyone... it was so refreshing being in a Madison-like place where folks know eachother and help eachother out, where organic and local matters, where gardening is the norm.

5 hours of sleep last night and returning to my thankless job ain't fun. Lower back is still hurty, and I just realized I've done at least one hard workout- and usually 2 - every day for the last 10 days. Tomorrow I'm sleeping in.

in a little over my head.

yeah, so, Santa Cruz is beautiful, the people are friendly, the bike lanes are plentiful, the trails are plentiful, but I'm not in Kansas/Chicago anymore!

We went on a short ride (3 hrs? 2?) with Paul last night for him to show us around the trails a little bit. They weren't technical or particularly hard, it's just... the ups and downs were LONG. I'm used to short climbs and short descents, but here, they just keep going. I'm actually pleased with my climbing but i was still breathing embarrassingly hard at the top. But the downs... you get going so fast, it's scary. I was on my brakes so much, I just didn't know the trail, didn't really know Holly's bike that I was on, and didn't trust it. I was chicken, I admit it.

But wouldn't you know it, after hitting the top of a hill and having a killer ocean view as we took a long descent through a field, then crossed US 1 to some bluff trails, I wipe out. Not just anywhere... there was a giant yellow cone warning of the washout in the trail. I just didn't catch that it was warning of 2 of them. Dug a rock and a bit of gravel out of my knee and we were off again, blood running down my leg. Now I've chickened out and wiped out. Ugh.

Today Ben had planned to do the lunchtime "racer ride" on the road and a dirt ride with his teammates. Knowing I couldn't keep up with either, I opted for an oceanside 7 mile run instead. I want to ride more trail, and tomorrow Ben promised it'll be just us.

Last night many of Ben's teammates came over to Paul and Holly's house for a pizza party. They're super friendly folks. This is a great community.

Hello from vacationland

Sorry, fancy phone won't put a photo here.

Our hotel room in sf was a hoot- with our 11pm check in they had nolittle rooms left and upgraded us to the $500/night suite, awesome. Too bad that 8 hours later we were up and out for the biggest awesomest party ever.

Bay to breakers was a party, a parade, a tour of the city with 40,000 friends. It was all smiles. One brutalhill, but slow and steady we just took it all in.

A long drive down us-1 and we're in Santa cruZ now, at the Sadoff's place. They cooked a wonderful dinner and we talked till the wee hours. Riding fun today.

omygodmakeitstop

(Molly by Ben) it's been a week. Delayed flights, broken gizmos, serious (!) work screw-ups, 6am rain in Little Rock, 11:00pm Steak n Shake in Northbrook. Malaysia tickets. Intervals, tempos, press releases, laundry. Flat tire, dead battery, wrong keys. Vacation can't come soon enough.

One week into working with Coach Bob, though, I feel 100% better about running and I feel considerably stronger. Working out smarter, not more. I like this.

peanuts!

Judi's totally right when she says you don't get fast till you run track intervals. So, though the recovery program said an easy 3 this morning, I went to the peanut track for 6x400. I set the gizmo to run the intervals, but I didn't say how fast or look at how fast, planning to run based on how I felt. I checked my pace to the calculator and found that without trying I was right where I should be for speed workouts for a long-distance runner with a 4:45 (target) marathon. And it's just going to get faster from here.

The Molly factor was sort of big. There was one corner full of squirrels that meant she dragged me to the corner, then slowed down to look for her furry friends, sometimes crossing my path. Yarr. Then, the off-leash dogs that were playing in the middle of the peanut decided she was their rabbit. That was fun too. In the end, though, it only screwed up 2 of the 6 intervals, which is fine.

I'm working with Coach Bob now, and my workouts are now running mornings and riding afternoons. I'm slighly concerned that it could lead to burnout, but I'll give it an honest shot. I'm excited to be on my bike this afternoon.

Race report: Stump Farm (redeemed!)

(Photo: Amy) After starting my season with 4 completely terrible races, I needed a change. I'm very, very happy to say that I got it.

Stump Farm is outside the 3-hour driving window we usually allow for racing (otherwise you end up driving 8+ hours for 3 hours on the bike) but since the trail is so! much! fun! it always stays on the list. The original intention was to do the women's 12-hour team for the WEMS series, but since they upped the number of races you have to complete for the series from 4 to 5 that was out. And when the forecast called for 40 degrees and rain at 8am, we made the call to sleep in instead of driving out Fri night and paying for a hotel room, and Erica, Ronit, and I rolled out of Chicago at 10am to make the 3pm 3-hour start. This also meant actual racing instead of a laid-back relay, which was a little scarier.

Pulled my bike off the roof in the parking lot, rode it 20 feet, and realized something was really wrong with the rear brake. Pulled my wheel and - o crap! - realized the pad was completely spent. Note to self: no braking on the rear. Fuuun. And I realized what I forgot. A sports bra.

Anyway, the start came and I sauntered to my bike and got in the lineup that hit the brakes for the singletrack. The first time through, it sucked... the traffic made flow impossible. Half a lap later, though, most of the riders were off in the distance in front of me, and I was just riding my race. The trail was soft and the morning's racers had carved banks into the turns, making it fast and fun. I beamed. This is why we ride. Outside of a few bumpy sections where my unrestrained bosom protested violently, the trail was perfect.

There were some short hills in the middle of the lap that kept the legs honest. I again felt a big difference in the climbs - I still suck at climbing but I am far stronger, and if I drop into that perfect gear I really can chug up them at a not-quite-embarrassing pace. But everything was icing. It was fun.

Gu packets at the start of lap 2 and 3, and my running talents translated to being able to pull the pack from my jersey, open it, keep the tab (no littering!), eat, and shove the spent packet and tab back in my jersey, no problems. Aw yeah. But my bottle was filled with caffeinated Clif Shot and my gu packets had caffeine too, and by lap 3 I was twitchy-high and felt more like a pinball player than a rider. (Sorry if I acted odd at the finish- I sort of felt like a crackhead).

The only noteworthy happening was the giant bug I inhaled on the third lap. It was still alive and I think it was trying to crawl out. I had to get off the bike and was coughing so hard to try to get it out that I nearly gagged myself. It felt fluttery in there and made me sort of dizzy.

I finished somewhere in the bottom half of the pack, but that's fine. WEMS races don't have categories and some of the women in the field were clearly ringers-- Amy recognized them as Expert racers from WORS. I put in some respectable lap times (for me) and the rain held off till we were loading the car. Ronit, Erica, and I even had Taco John's on the way home. We drove fast and I was in bed just before midnight.

Sunday Morning the weather insisted on a run, and when I turned home after 3 Molly dragged me out, insisting on 5. I coughed up a black wing.

new adventures in no-fi

Lightning and pouring rain foiled my plan of getting back on the bike on Wednesday after work, so I laced up my running shoes for a wet recovery 3 instead. I was terrified. After days of telling myself I was a running failure, I didn't even know if I could make it through three. My socks and shoes felt unfamiliar, soft, and smooshy. I left the gizmo and ipod home, grabbed Molly, and shuffled through it. Threw a few pickups in at the end just to know I still had legs, and I do. I'm excited to run a few faster, shorter distances and to start trusting myself again. Back on the horse.

Yesterday I worked a 16 hour day basically- driving to and from Indy for an 11-7 meeting. I think we all hate our jobs at this point, so I'll spare the details.

This morning, another no-fi 3 at unknown pace and with my brain to provide the music. I somehow made every light, running the mileage straight through-- that never happens. Teammates Erica, Ronit, and I are supposed to be leaving for Stump Farm 12 tonight-- a course I love!-- but with rain and a high of 47 I'm half hoping it gets canceled. Or, I hope they cancel it before we drive 3 hours and get a hotel room... or, never mind, flakesville.

cinco de mayo. recovering.

Thanks for your kind words, everyone. It's good to have friends. But I flat out didn't do what I meant to, and all excuses aside, that's sort of hard to deal with after investing so many snowy mornings and sideways-hailing-Saturdays. I just need a little time to suck it up, and a few margaritas, and it'll be ok.

I was reading this about what to do when your race day goes to shit. I could run another in this training cycle. Madison is tempting. Or South Bend. But whatever. With three weeks of back-to-back weekend travel and racing, I really should just forget it. I screwed up, it happens, I'll laugh about it in a week.

I know that the biggest mistake I made- bigger than being sick or not being able to run up a hill- was not taking it in. My brain echoed "you're doing so badly" and "you should just walk it" from mile 5. People cheered and I shrugged. The kids wanted high 5's and I just walked past. I was so down on me from 1/5 of the way into the race that I didn't let it be fun, and I didn't let the fun solve the problem. I was Eeyore. And if you haven't run marathon before, I should just mention that the thing really hasn't even started yet at mile 5.

Moving on then.

In the meantime, more frisbee with Molly, more pizza, more quality time with Ben. Stump Farm is this weekend, and it's a course that even a completely terrible rider like myself can handle and have fun with.

Bite me, Highland Park.

One bad dog means they're all bad, right? Wrong. If you're going to ban pit bulls after one owner can't control his, soon you'll have to ban all dogs over 40 lbs. It's just not a solution to the problem and it's unfair to all the furry friends who need homes.

Take a minute to call or email the Mayor. You may not be from Highland Park, but if you're a dog lover, you know that one ban leads to another, and that every time this happens, dogs end up homeless.

If I can't make it, I'll make it out.

Well, I feel like I wasted 18 weeks of my life. That was a complete failure. Flying Pig Marathon '09, and this pig just didn't fly.

Start Saturday night though, when Judi suggested an awesome restaurant where we all had dinner. It was delicious. I love Judi because I feel like she's super grounded and we see eye-to-eye on so much. Then we went back to the complete mess of an expo (strategically set up so you have to walk past EVERY vendor) and made fun of the live models.

After a crappy night of not-much-sleep on a back-hurtingly-soft bed, it was up and out. I chose a t-shirt instead of sleveless, which I'd later find was a bad choice. Got to the start 2 minutes before gun and had to jump a barrier to join the field. And we're off.

Mile one, cough up a lung. For three miles, I was at or below pace. Then mile 3 I started getting overheated- probably my cold. Said hi to Ben at the bridge at mile 3 or so and already I had nothing but bad things to say. The 4:45 pace group passed me, saw Ben again, and again, I was all bad news. By mile 5 I was seeing stars and ended up puking by the side of the road. Surprised I didn't pass out. Then came the hills, and they were HILLS. Like, out of the saddle in the little ring hills. My little pit stop had me off pace, so I walked the hills, saving.

The overheating continued and screwed with my hydration. I had visions of cold showers, clear water swimming pools, drinking gallons. I knew if I drank as much as I wanted, I'd get sloshy and be done for. I really felt crappy. The decided that I'd try to keep the 5:00 pace group behind me to the half, and then do whatever after that. I accomplished this small feat.

After that, it was crawling to the finish line. Like, 12:00 miles or slower, walking through water stations to make the times even worse. I just felt fantastically terrible. I kept shuffling along and just sang to myself. I met a local girl at mile 17 and we chatted and kept eachother going till mile 25. Then her husband ran with her and I pressed on.

5:15. At least 30 minutes slower than I hoped. I cried. And cried and cried. I don't know what to think. Marathons aren't like races we usually do because you have one shot. You train 18 weeks for one day. And my one day was for shit. Why waste all spring trying only to get WORSE? I was supposed to meet Judi afterward, but we just left. I feel like a crappy friend for it, but I just couldn't handle anything.

So, that's my 4th race this year. 2 running, 2 riding. And all off-the-back, slower-than-pace, stupid excuses. I'm a real failure as a halflete. But at least I can show up with a smile, enjoy a beer, support other folks that don't suck, and be an athletic supporter.

roll out

with the sun poking through this morning, i'm starting to believe. packed two kinds of skirt, three tops, arm warmers, jacket... i'm ready for whatever sunday brings. feeling a little better but still talking like i chainsmoked last night and coughing up colorful bits. ready to get it over with. rolling out.

missions.

You'll excuse a short break from me complaining about still being sick, about the 40 degree and rainy weather for the marathon this sunday, and about the car fire that awoke our family at 6:18am this morning, to talk about something even nearer and dearer to my heart: Star Trek.

I've long been a fan. In fact, when the final episode of The Next Generation aired, I had all my high school friends over for a viewing party and my mom made us cookies. I've seen every episode of TNG. (I prefer it to the original, which to these eyes is hokie.) My first car's license plate was NTRPRYZ (all the good ones were taken) and it had a "Vulcan Science Academy" sticker in the back.

I think part of the attraction for me was that the creator, Gene Roddenberry, had a view of the way he believed the world should be, and he made that view real through the show. Early Star Trek was a pioneer in racial equity and actually had the first on-screen interracial kiss. Roddenberry used the opportunity to create new worlds as a way to contrast the good and bad-- one episode sticks out in my mind where the planet the Enterprise visits uses death as the penalty for all crimes, no matter how petty, and how passionately the planet's leaders defend it. You'd be surprised how regularly the show was censored.

So, then things went downhill for the series. Roddenberry died and the franchise dipped into Deep Space:9, what I saw as an outer space soap opera, and Voyager, which never did catch anyone's attention. It lost the spark, or, more likely, it lost Roddenberry's voice for what should be. The new guys weren't pushing it or making a mark. It lacked vision.

Now there's a new movie out. I'm afraid to even go see it. I want to, but I know it will be a disappointment. It will have great special effects and fun gizmos and gadgets but I'm afraid that it might miss the mark. Star Trek had a message, a mission. I hope that's not lost.