Let The Adventures Continue

    I know that lately my writing has been sporadic at best. Not because there is nothing to write about, but because there is so much that I barely have time to breathe it seems. I just finished the class that was taking up a goodly chunk of my free time, finished in the top of my class, and am quite proud of myself, if I do say so. But crammed in between classes, homework, and work, have been some decent workouts and rather stellar races. Two weeks ago was the Mount Hood Scramble, last weekend was The Summer Solstice 10K, and today was the Race For The Animals 10K. Today's event was held on Mount Tabor, the only volcano inside city limits in the U.S. It is a small, extinct volcano.But, when running in any area named "Mount" something, there will be hill climbs. It was 10 kilometers of up hill, down hill, up hill, down hill. I surely got in my hill workout for the week. But I ran well, my legs felt great. The last mile was a steady uphill grade, and I kept running, catching and passing runners who were gassed by the hills, heat, and humidity. Not to mention the stair climbs! I totally rocked the various stairs that were on the route, feeling pleasantly smug as I powered up,and overheard the complaints from the other runners. Mostly dirt and gravel paths, winding through thte forest, I was in my element, happy, loping along like a wolf. It was a sweet run, and I was happy to reach the end feeling like I could have just kept running.
    I know that most runners have different paces for different distances. The quicker 5k and 10k pace, versus the middlin half-marathon, and slow and steady of a full marathon. Not me. I am not that cerebral about my running. Or maybe I am. I am working on what will be my pace for the final leg of my triathlons, especially the long course tri. And now I have the farsighted vision of a 50K trail run next summer, and maybe even, dare I breathe it, a 50 mile endurance trail run. I know, I am insane. A lunatic. Deranged to even be considering it. But damnit, I love trail runs. And I love having a goal that will make me push myself outside of my scope of existence. Push myself out of my comfort zone. See just what I can do with this amazing body of mine. I do not have aspirations of being an awesome marathon runner, road running does not float my boat. Oh, but trail runs, glorious trail runs, with the technical footing, Nature's obstacles, the scenery, the greenery. It sings to me in a way that in inexplicable, indescribable. The Mount Hood Scramble was a deliriously joyful adventure that I wish I could have run a second time. Now, I have connected with several local trail running groups, so I can feel that slight edge of competition, camaraderie, that will encourage me to up my miles, continue to build my base. I am excited for this season. Let the adventures continue!

RunRunRun

    As much as I feel that I should be entering as many triathlons as I can between now and The Big Day, I know at this point I need to focus on my running. I am switching my strategy a bit. Instead of hitting the Tris that are coming up, I will be running road and trail races instead. There are a number of great races coming up, both on and off road. I make no secret that I prefer off-roading it whenever possible. It is so much easier on my knees, and far more stimulating for my brain. I will do the Mid-Summer Tri at Blue Lake, Olympic distance, as my final "tune-up race." Oddly, that is my anniversary Tri, that is the event that initiated me into the weirdness that is triathlon, and introduced me to the odd, quirky, and potentially snobbish group that are triathletes. I am feeling comfortable with my current levels of swimming and cycling, so entering a Tri would be more to test my legs in the run, and practice transitions. But still, at this point, getting my running legs up to par is far more important in the overall scheme of completing my big race. I do regret not being able to hit every Tri that comes along, but they are expensive, and I don't want to lose training time in tapers and recovery periods. At this point, I can run a road or trail race without it causing so much as a hiccup in my training schedule. As a matter of fact, I look at them as training runs. I am not so competitive that I am going to go out there and kill myself trying to place, or set PRs. But, I am competitive enough that I will push myself harder in a race than I will when out running on my own. It is amazing how much better I run, how much more stamina I seem to have, when there are other runners around me. I do wish I could run with a club, but my schedule is just too damned tight. Besides, I want trail runs. Lots and lots of trail runs. That is what lights the fire in my belly, more than any other single endeavor. I will be doing a 10.5 trail run in Forest Park on July 6th, and the Wildwood Trail Half Marathon at the end of July. And I tell you, I am excited! Much more fun than pounding the pavement.

Mount Hood Scramble

    As busy as life has been I am falling behind on logging my exploits. Just a quick bit tonight since I need to hit the sack to be well rested for a 10K tomorrow evening, The Summer Solstice 10K. I think it is an excellent way to herald in summer. As discussed in a past posting, I will never again be blase about a pending race, no matter the distance, I plan on going into this one well rested, and well fueled. My latest escapade, the five-ish mile Mount Hood Scramble went of without a hitch, despite being roused at 1:30am by my pager calling me to the station. Having a 2 hour block of work in the middle of the night can wreak havoc on sleep patterns. But it was fine, I still felt well rested and strong. It was a glorious run through rugged terrain, with more icy water crossings than I could count. At 4600 feet above sea level, the air was a bit thin for the lungs of a valley floor denizen, I sucked wind for the first half mile or so, but then I settled in and felt great. I don't know if the glyco-loading helped, but g'damn, my legs felt fantastic.  The terrain was more rugged than any adventure race to date: glacier scraped rocks, soft sand, forest floor, glacier melt white water fords, dense underbrush, hills of varying pitch, mud, and even a few patches of snow. Definitely the most technical run I have done. And I abso-freaking-lutely LOVEDLOVEDLOVED IT!  As I was running I realized there was not a moment of the drudgery I sometimes feel on road runs. I was alert, nimble, quick when the terrain allowed. My mind was alert, my eyes were sharp, my body was enjoying the challenge. I love trail runs, more than even I could have possibly imagined. I got there late and started a full 15 minutes after the pack, but I was passing people within the first 20 minutes. I passed, and was never passed. I admit, the soft sand drained me a bit, it was a bitch, no doubt. And I am a little footsore from running on rocks. I really do love adventure runs, more than anything. Once this season is over and the half-Ironman and marathon are in the bag, I am switching my focus to more intense, and longer adventure runs. There is a fifty miler that I am going to attempt next year. I don't think I can run fifty miles, but I can damned well run with walk breaks.
    So much for a quickie. Time for sleep. I want to run well tomorrow, and have a full day of work, on my feet, to get through before the race. But I am well nourished, and plan on being well rested.

Glyco-Loading

    Five mile trail run in the morning. At higher altitude, on Mount Hood. I am excited, as I always am for trail runs, though a little nervous about the altitude. After my last, less than stellar, 10K, I am taking my pre-race prep more seriously. I have not run much this week, due to some pain radiating through my left leg, but I have been trying to make up for it with cycling and swimming. Last night I ate a solid dinner and got a decent night's sleep. This morning I started with a good breakfast, then a day in class so I wasn't on my feet all day. This evening I did a good upper body and core/ab workout.
    Tonight I tried something new: Glyco-loading the muscles in my legs. I know, I know, sounds gimmicky. The theory is to work the muscles hard and fast, in this case cycling at high revs, for ten minutes. This dumps the glycogen stores out of the muscles. Immediately afterwards you eat some quality, easily absorbed carbohydrates to restock the glycogen. This should have my legs ready to run tomorrow. In theory. I am using all my races this summer as training runs. I am testing different ideas, theories, and fuels. The glyco-loading is this weekend's trial run.
    One hard and fast lesson learned already this season: Rest before a race. Rest and proper fueling. No matter what the race. No matter what the distance. On that note, it is time for bed, to rest.

Time Time Time

    I am trying to ramp up my workouts, but am fighting against time itself. There just aren't enough hours in the day for me to fit everything in. True, I have a helluva schedule, today was my only day this month that I do not have something planned, either work, class, or a race. Next Sunday is The Mount Hood Scramble, a five mile trail run on the mountain at high altitude over rough terrain. It should be a blast! The following Friday evening is the Salem Solstice 10K, with the Clackamas Cove Tri the following Sunday. Training takes up most of what little free time I have. Yes, I am single minded in my pursuit now. I have been told that I never do anything by halves, and this is true. Whether flaw or virtue, that is anyone's guess. I am focusing on cycling this month. So far, it has been with the bike up on rollers, it gives me more time pedaling and less time prepping. But now I have helmet and clip in shoes, with aero bars on the way, the weather is fine, and the days are long, so I will be out on the roads risking life and limb. Cycling has been my strength from the get-go, and I aim to push myself as hard and far as I can. By being a strong cyclist I will have more juice left for the run. At least that is the theory. Cycling I can dial up and up with less fear of injuries. Running, not so much. After my last 10K my left knee was whining at me. Cycling, core and ab work, CrossFit, swimming, strength training, and running as much as I can. But where will I find the time? Once June is past my EMR class will be finished, that will free up a bit more time, time to devote to not being a failure. That is my biggest fear, that I will not be able to be in my best condition come race day. I need to give this my all, partly because I feel like it is all I have that is in my power to control. Life may swirl about in chaos, but this is one area that is mine, all mine. I just need to eek out a little more time.

Stress?

    My body has changed the way it deals with stress. I find this quite interesting, in a clinical sense. I used to be a stress eater. Yes, I would exercise hard when stressed, but then I would eat to make up for it. And my past preferred workouts were usually hard weight lifting, or heavy bag, not much real cardio. I would take my dogs out on long, late night walks in all sorts of weather. Often raging into the storm at the newest hurdle or kick in the teeth. But a lot of this has changed.
    I have developed what I think of as a "nervous stomach." Now when I stress my stomach actually cramps up, and I feel nausea and pain, which very effectively kills my appetite. At times like that, I force myself to eat, knowing that my current training regiment cannot be sustained without proper nutrition. So I have learned to force feed myself nutritious food, fuel for the engine. None the less, I have lost over 5 pounds in the last four weeks or so. Along with the nervous stomach are a whole litany of other, grosser, digestive ailments that plague me from one end to the other. I will spare you the details.
    Another oddity of this is my mouth. Half the time the inside of my mouth is sore, with my tongue feeling almost burned. I get odd tingling in my tongue, and spicy food is painful. I worry that it is some kind of immune disorder, but I am so damned healthy in most other respects. It is a puzzle. A weird puzzle.
    Strangely, my sleep is not being affected. Maybe that is because my workout regiment is kind of strenuous, and my days are full from the moment the alarm goes of until I crawl to bed at night. I am sleeping like a rock, most nights. My workouts are mostly cardio these days. Yes I still do strength training several days a week, and core and abs about every other day, but mostly I swim, cycle, and run. Okay, I am not running as much as I should, but I am trying to be delicate with my knees. Today it was stairclimbing tower laps in ankle weights and SCBA pack at the station while on lunch break from my EMR class. 25 laps X 3 flights of stairs and one roof ladder = 75+ flights of stairs. Easier on my knees than running, but a good leg workout.
    There are other weird little glitches in my system that I am laying at the feet of stress. Enough that I feel a bit like a hypochondriac. My Princess and The Pea syndrome is back in full force, the slightest bump hurts like a motherfucker, especially if it hits the joints in my hands and arms. See, just an odd shopping list of bodily chaos to ponder, and then ignore to the best of my abilities. F'king stress.

Open Water

    If you have read previous postings you are likely aware of my panic inducing phobia of putting my face into cold, murky water. Or warm, murky water, for that matter. There is nothing rational about it. But are phobias ever rational? My last open water swim was my disastrous swim in the Willamatte River during the Portland Triathlon. I say disastrous because it was longest, most miserable swim I have ever done. I was so exhausted that I nearly quit a number of times. I was almost willing to accept a DNF just to get out of the water. That has hung over me like a blight, coloring my visions of future triathlons, especially my long course event in September. With the arrival, finally, of sunny weather I knew it was time to get out my beautiful Selkie Suit aka my 2XU wetsuit, and get out into the water. Today was the day. In reality, the last 24 hours beat holy hell out of me, emotionally and physically. By the time I got off work and headed out I was nearly a basketcase, and fending off total meltdown by sheer force of will alone. I was already telling myself that it would be perfectly acceptable, under such emotional duress, to not swim. I even told myself, and there is some truth to this, that as stressed out as I was that it might be potentially dangerous to swim alone, in cold, deep water. Adding the stress of life to the stress of my phobia could be a disaster, a deadly disaster. But I had a few errands to run, some goggles to exchange, and maybe a Goodwill to hit. On my way to the sporting goods store to return some ill-fitting goggles and look for Zoomers flippers, I told myself, "If I find Zoomers I will swim." (You have to understand, I have been looking for Zoomers all over the area, with no luck, for the last 2 months). In my mind I was convinced the buoyancy of these flippers would go a long way to making me feel more secure in the water. I did not find the flippers I was looking for, but did find some sweet hand paddles, as well as a new pair of goggles.
    The sporting goods store is right next to a Goodwill thrift store, and I thought I would cruise through their sporting goods section to see if there was anything cool. This is the store that I bought my first, shorty wetsuit from for $15. As I peruse the shelves, the first thing I find is a Giro cycling helmet for $3. Score! Then a nice swim mask. And as my eyes roam the wares I see, to my shock and awe, a pair of Zoomers. Swear-to-god. A pair of Zoomers. For $5. Five bucks. Five. Obviously the gods are conspiring to get me into the water. I grab my armload of awesomeness and head out. Yes, I will swim.
    Now I am getting excited to get into the water. Excited, nervous, like a first date. Will it be a dream? Or a dud? The moment of truth comes. I am attired in my Selkie Suit. By the way, it is damned near impossible to zip the back of a wetsuit by yourself, I damned near dislocated a shoulder. Selkie Suit on, hot pink swim cap (so they can spot my body if I drown), new goggles, Zoomers, and hand paddles, I slip into the frigid, deep, green water of Clackamette Cove. And it is f'king cold. I gasp for air as my body tries to acclimate. I breast stroke, keeping my head out of the water until I can get my breathing under control. I am feeling fingers of panic wrapping around my trachea, and my lungs are trying to make me hyperventilate. I won't allow it. Not today. With so much chaos swirling around me today, this was one thing that I would control. I forced my face into the water so I could swim properly. I made myself stretch out and swim the crawl. I was breathing every right arm stroke, my lungs still uncooperative, my brain still spazzing and trying to convince me that I was going to drown. I forced myself to swim my normal pattern; breath every other right arm stroke. I straightened my body, forced my shoulders to relax, and swam like I know I can. Panic kept trying to exert dominance, but I would not allow it. Not today. Never again.
    I swam out to the far buoy and back, not once, but twice, practicing my sighting. The second lap I did without the Zoomers, letting my body find alignment on its own. I did find my strokes kept wanting to go short and choppy, so I forced myself to go long and steady. This is how I swim, long and steady. It is not fast, but it is smooth and quiet. I admit, today my form was not stellar, but I swam, face in the water, until I knew I had won. This was a battle I won. Me. I did it. And I am damned proud of myself.

This Endeth The Lesson

    Sunday I ran a 10K. In my mind I had been thinking, "It is just a 10K," knowing the distance would not be problematic. I ate properly beforehand, but then, I always eat properly. But I know I was under hydrated. And, this is a big and, And I did not get enough sleep in the nights leading up to the race. Yes, I am chronically sleep deprived, even the meds don't help all that much. But friday, the night I should have aimed for a solid eight hours, at the very least, I was up past midnight doing homework, then up early saturday morning for class. If I had come home, maybe napped, had a super healthy dinner, and a quiet evening at home, this might not have been such a bad thing. But I did not. Definitely did not. Went straight from class to a barbecue/gathering for a friend on leave from the Air Force. No, I didn't consume alcohol, I rarely ever do.   I didn't even eat that poorly, but I didn't eat that great either. Then straight from the barbecue (which was fun, and well worth it), to a huge party at the neighbors, replete with live music and a full bar. Though again, I didn't consume alcohol. But what I wasn't drinking was water. And I was on my feet, socializing, yucking it up, people watching. Oh sure, I was home by 11:00, but I wasn't in bed til nearly midnight, again. I did get eight hours sleep, barely. I even woke before my alarm went off, and felt pretty good.
    I felt great for the first 5K of the race. But when the aid stations had no water, just Gatorade, I started feeling my lack of hydration. At the halfway point I drank some Gatorade just to clear the phlegm, and my stomach made me regret it for the next 5K. And I felt tired. Not tired like after a good run. But tired like just plain tired. I kept my running form, concentrating on keeping my tread light, and my cadence quick. I ran it out, crossed the finish line just 43 seconds slower than my goal time, so it wasn't too bad. But it was not an energetic run. I felt better during the whole 10.5 miles of my Hagg Lake run last month.
    So, what lesson have we learned here? No race, of any duration, is "just a" race. 5K, 10K, marathon, triathlon. Rest, fuel, and hydration are essential to a good race day. Yes, I have heard plenty of tales of people running after a long night of carousing, and feeling great. I am not a carouser, so I have zero practice with such things. From here on out, if I have a race, I am sticking with my plans. This does not mean I will go into seclusion in the days leading up to any race. Hell, if I did that, with my race schedule, I would be in seclusion a good 50% of the time. But I need to make sure I stick with my game plan, get plenty of rest, drink the proper fluids, and eat the good foods that fuel my body. Next race, I will be rested, at the very least. Lesson learned. This endeth the lesson.