Feeling the training vibe rekindling deep in my core. Having a definitive plan for next season gives me better motivation. It's not like I haven't been slowly rebuilding my base after my knee forced me to take so many weeks off this summer, but now I feel my laser-like focus returning. And it feels good.
Tonight was my first mini-brick workout in a while. A nice, solid, power workout. I am easing back into getting my legs ready for running, cautious of another over-use injury. I have been pretty steady with my leg work, cycling nearly every day for the last two months, and strength training at least twice a week. But I am just now getting back to some bipedal locomotion. I've been using my treadmill, since the sun is setting so much earlier, and as I've mentioned before, there is no place to run near my house after dark (no side walks, no shoulders on the roads, no streetlights at all). Tonight was my third "hill" session. Simple enough: 1 lap slow jog, 1 lap fast walk at max incline, repeat x5. Followed with a quick, hard triple set of explosive leg work: weighted pendulum squats, deadlift, kettlebell swing, 20 reps each x 3 sets. Then, onto the bike for a nice HIIT session: 10 minute warmup, then 20 minutes of 1 minute ascending and descending gearing pyramid maintaining high cadence, and 10 minute cool down. Finally, 10 minutes stretching.
It was a nice leg burner evening, no doubt about it. True, it was not an endurance set, but now is not the time for endurance work. Now is the time to build speed and strength. HIIT sessions, explosive power work, strength training, speed work. That is where my focus will be for the next few months. I hate to say it, but endurance is easy for me, I can go long. Speed though, has never been my strength. Last year one of my mottoes was, "My strength is my strength." This from hearing so many athletes' stories where they say that "Speed is my strength," or "Running is my strength." For me, knowing I am not a standout in any of the three disciplines, made me realize that the one area I do standout is basic strength. I am a strong female. I am built long and strong. I can go at a steady pace all the live long day. And I am stubborn. Now, I need to make my strength and stubbornness work for me as I slowly turn strength into power, and power into speed. Power = Strength + Speed.
Monday, October 19, 2015
Sunday, October 18, 2015
Race Goals
I am beginning to adjust plans for next race season. I contacted the corporation that is the official sponsor for the Epic 250K, just on the offhand chance that it might resume next year. It won't. The Bend race is officially kaput. Although I was hopeful, I wasn't surprised.
My tentative plan has been to do the Anvil at Hagg Lake. The only Iron distance event in my region. It has a fatal flaw: it is held on a short course. What this means is that the bike and run legs are multiple laps over the same course. Yes, it is pretty enough. I've run the 10 mile road around the lake (placed second in my division, by the way). But the idea of doing lap after lap, despite how scenic, just sounds tedious to me. Where is the adventure?! That was one of the allures of the Epic 250K, it was a hard course through rugged country, with weather that could have been anything from heat to snow, frigid mountain lake, steep hills, gorgeous panoramic views of Central Oregon. It was an Epic adventure. Even my training trips to bike the course were mini adventures. I want that out of an Iron distance event. I don't want to bike or run laps. I don't want to push my body to the limit just to prove I can. I want an adventure. So, I don't think I will be doing the Anvil.
Where does that leave me? Without an Iron distance, obviously. At least for 2016. My new plan is to compete in two half-Iron races. One in early summer, and then the Best in The West in mid-September. Last year there was a half-Iron in the Portland area. Not a spectacularly awesome course, but a decent one along the Columbia. The Best in The West is in beautiful hill country, and the lake is gorgeous. When I did the event two years ago the swim was so fantastic that all I could think was, "This is my best swim EVER." Over and over.
With all this in mind, my plan is to truly compete. Not just to race the course for my own entertainment. But to push myself to my limits, and see just how fast I can go. I want to finish mid-pack at the very least. I want to place in my age group. To this end I will be working on my speed and stamina. Fartleks,Tabata workouts, and High Intensity Interval Training will be the norm. Last year, I trained to for absolute endurance, not speed. It cost me in the end. I had plenty of stamina and energy, but not enough speed to make the cutoff times. I know I could have done the course in its entirety though, I just needed another hour. Next year will be different.
So, that is the plan. I have my training concepts forming already. It will be different than my past years as I built base and endurance. True, my endurance is not what it was last year, but few people can maintain that kind of body pounding for long periods of time. Honestly, I know I could very likely do a half-Iron tomorrow, though my run would suffer. In two months I could be race ready, but not fast. But in nine months I will be ready to kick ass and take names. Nine months. Now I have a goal.
My tentative plan has been to do the Anvil at Hagg Lake. The only Iron distance event in my region. It has a fatal flaw: it is held on a short course. What this means is that the bike and run legs are multiple laps over the same course. Yes, it is pretty enough. I've run the 10 mile road around the lake (placed second in my division, by the way). But the idea of doing lap after lap, despite how scenic, just sounds tedious to me. Where is the adventure?! That was one of the allures of the Epic 250K, it was a hard course through rugged country, with weather that could have been anything from heat to snow, frigid mountain lake, steep hills, gorgeous panoramic views of Central Oregon. It was an Epic adventure. Even my training trips to bike the course were mini adventures. I want that out of an Iron distance event. I don't want to bike or run laps. I don't want to push my body to the limit just to prove I can. I want an adventure. So, I don't think I will be doing the Anvil.
Where does that leave me? Without an Iron distance, obviously. At least for 2016. My new plan is to compete in two half-Iron races. One in early summer, and then the Best in The West in mid-September. Last year there was a half-Iron in the Portland area. Not a spectacularly awesome course, but a decent one along the Columbia. The Best in The West is in beautiful hill country, and the lake is gorgeous. When I did the event two years ago the swim was so fantastic that all I could think was, "This is my best swim EVER." Over and over.
With all this in mind, my plan is to truly compete. Not just to race the course for my own entertainment. But to push myself to my limits, and see just how fast I can go. I want to finish mid-pack at the very least. I want to place in my age group. To this end I will be working on my speed and stamina. Fartleks,Tabata workouts, and High Intensity Interval Training will be the norm. Last year, I trained to for absolute endurance, not speed. It cost me in the end. I had plenty of stamina and energy, but not enough speed to make the cutoff times. I know I could have done the course in its entirety though, I just needed another hour. Next year will be different.
So, that is the plan. I have my training concepts forming already. It will be different than my past years as I built base and endurance. True, my endurance is not what it was last year, but few people can maintain that kind of body pounding for long periods of time. Honestly, I know I could very likely do a half-Iron tomorrow, though my run would suffer. In two months I could be race ready, but not fast. But in nine months I will be ready to kick ass and take names. Nine months. Now I have a goal.
Sunday, October 4, 2015
Paleo? Vegan? Raw?
So many choices. So many paths. What we put in our stomachs as the "optimal diet" has become not only an obsession, but for many it is nearly a religion. Yes, our society has always been susceptible to the latest and greatest nutritional craze. In my lifetime I have seen food gurus run the gamut. Atkins, Low Carb, High Carb, No Carb, High Protein, Low Protein, Biggest Loser, Raw, South Beach, The Zone, Cleansing, Alkaline, Blood Type. Hell, I have fallen prey to more than a few radical ideas to lose weight.
My weight has been an issue for me since I was about 11 years old. In the fifth grade, I was the fat kid. Yes, there was one girl heavier than I was, but I was still the fat kid. I remember the public humiliation of being weighed and measured. It was something done every year, we lined up, and one by one, in full sight of our peers, were weighed and our height was recorded. I remember the burning shame of being 135 pounds, at age eleven. To make matters worse, my Mom took me to the family doctor, telling him she was concerned about my weight. I was mortified. His response, "It's just baby fat, she'll get a growth spurt and stretch out." He was right, I did. But I carried that shame with me for decades, and it led me through many fad diets as a teenager, even though I wasn't overweight. The damage was done.
Pregnancy was when my weight soared. My weight yo-yoed over then next 25 years. I always worked out, kept physically active, but I was always wishing for that Miracle Diet. The Fix. The Cure. It was a nervous breakdown that finally flipped a switch for me. True, a mental meltdown can really kill the appetite. Insomnia, stress and depression made me nearly unable to eat. And since I wasn't sleeping either, long hours on the treadmill at O'dark-thirty in the morning seemed like a good expenditure of my time. No, this was not the healthiest way to drop weight. But what it did was make me very cognizant of what I put into my body to counteract the insomnia, stress, and depression.
I began to truly listen to my body. Feed the need. I found direct correlations between what I fed myself, and how it made me feel. These days I am vegetarian, not for moral reasons (though that is happening) but because meat makes my joints ache even more than they always do. I am largely dairy free since my digestive tract has decided that dairy is evil. I am mostly wheat free, not because of the gluten-free craze, but because wheat gives me volcanic heartburn (a sign of inflammation, actually). I don't eat fried foods, or gooey desserts, and I don't drink alcohol because they all make me feel less than optimal. I avoid prepackaged foods because I don't trust the additives and possible GMO's, as well as the fact that I never know if my body will digest the unknown (ate some seasoned crackers the other day, and suffered for 24 hours). Corn syrup, and especially high fructose corn syrup is the devil incarnate, so it does not touch my lips. In other words, "I Eat Clean."
Despite the limitations my body has imposed on me I eat very well. I cook wonderful meals, from scratch. I love baking wheat free breads, and make a pumpkin bread that is mouth watering. I explore new vegetarian recipes, culling some, adding others to the repertoire. I eat a ridiculous amount of fruit. Some days I eat small, frequent meals. Some days I eat three big meals. I eat late at night, sometimes I'm sitting down to dinner at 9:30 because my workout went long. I never skip breakfast. I make sure to get enough protein. I drink a lot of smoothies.
What does all this mean? I am not exactly sure, but I have maintained a healthy weight for the last 3+ years, without giving much thought to calorie counting. I don't focus on what I can't have, but instead love to explore all that I can eat in vast quantities. Yes, I eat a lot. It took me half a century, but I have finally found peace with what I eat. I really have come to believe that "You are what you eat."
My weight has been an issue for me since I was about 11 years old. In the fifth grade, I was the fat kid. Yes, there was one girl heavier than I was, but I was still the fat kid. I remember the public humiliation of being weighed and measured. It was something done every year, we lined up, and one by one, in full sight of our peers, were weighed and our height was recorded. I remember the burning shame of being 135 pounds, at age eleven. To make matters worse, my Mom took me to the family doctor, telling him she was concerned about my weight. I was mortified. His response, "It's just baby fat, she'll get a growth spurt and stretch out." He was right, I did. But I carried that shame with me for decades, and it led me through many fad diets as a teenager, even though I wasn't overweight. The damage was done.
Pregnancy was when my weight soared. My weight yo-yoed over then next 25 years. I always worked out, kept physically active, but I was always wishing for that Miracle Diet. The Fix. The Cure. It was a nervous breakdown that finally flipped a switch for me. True, a mental meltdown can really kill the appetite. Insomnia, stress and depression made me nearly unable to eat. And since I wasn't sleeping either, long hours on the treadmill at O'dark-thirty in the morning seemed like a good expenditure of my time. No, this was not the healthiest way to drop weight. But what it did was make me very cognizant of what I put into my body to counteract the insomnia, stress, and depression.
I began to truly listen to my body. Feed the need. I found direct correlations between what I fed myself, and how it made me feel. These days I am vegetarian, not for moral reasons (though that is happening) but because meat makes my joints ache even more than they always do. I am largely dairy free since my digestive tract has decided that dairy is evil. I am mostly wheat free, not because of the gluten-free craze, but because wheat gives me volcanic heartburn (a sign of inflammation, actually). I don't eat fried foods, or gooey desserts, and I don't drink alcohol because they all make me feel less than optimal. I avoid prepackaged foods because I don't trust the additives and possible GMO's, as well as the fact that I never know if my body will digest the unknown (ate some seasoned crackers the other day, and suffered for 24 hours). Corn syrup, and especially high fructose corn syrup is the devil incarnate, so it does not touch my lips. In other words, "I Eat Clean."
Despite the limitations my body has imposed on me I eat very well. I cook wonderful meals, from scratch. I love baking wheat free breads, and make a pumpkin bread that is mouth watering. I explore new vegetarian recipes, culling some, adding others to the repertoire. I eat a ridiculous amount of fruit. Some days I eat small, frequent meals. Some days I eat three big meals. I eat late at night, sometimes I'm sitting down to dinner at 9:30 because my workout went long. I never skip breakfast. I make sure to get enough protein. I drink a lot of smoothies.
What does all this mean? I am not exactly sure, but I have maintained a healthy weight for the last 3+ years, without giving much thought to calorie counting. I don't focus on what I can't have, but instead love to explore all that I can eat in vast quantities. Yes, I eat a lot. It took me half a century, but I have finally found peace with what I eat. I really have come to believe that "You are what you eat."
Saturday, September 26, 2015
One Year Ago
One year ago today I was having one of the most epic days of my life. By this point, I had toiled for about 14 hours, was finished with as much of the Epic 250K as I was able, and was heading for Laughing Planet and a Che Gueverra vegan burrito. It was a fantastic day, and at that point I felt I had done my best. That feeling of success faded a bit over time, now I wish I had pushed myself harder so I could have managed a finishing time. It was my first Iron distance, and my first DNF. That has been a tough pill to swallow, I won't lie.
Today, all through the day I had little flashbacks: "I was just getting out of the water, and feeling the effects of hypothermia..." or "I was an hour into the bike leg and finally warm enough to shed a layer..." or "Woo Hoo! Bananas! Fuck Yeah!" It was a great adventure. One of the best days of my life. And I so wanted to get a second chance at it. I know I have whined about this for months, most of this year, actually. I had nearly convinced myself, back in February or so, that I couldn't afford to do the race this year. Then, I convinced myself that if I paid the entry fee I would figure out a way to afford it by the time race day arrived. Instead, the event disappeared, to the dismay of many besides myself. I am still sad about it, really.
I wonder how much of today's melancholy is regret at not finishing in time last year, not getting a second chance this year, having my whole season fubar-ed by a knee injury, or just that the days are getting shorter and winter is breathing down my neck. It could just be Seasonal Affected Disorder raising its gloomy, ugly head. I do have my normal symptoms: short temper, an underlying restlessness, the desire to do little more than eat carbs and sleep, a sense of urgency to get things "buttoned down for winter," and that all too familiar sense of dread. On the other hand, it could just be fatigue.
Whatever the cause, I am struggling with my own attitude. Struggling to keep my fitness on track. Last year, on this day, I was at my absolute peak of fitness. Today, one year later, I know I would struggle to do an Olympic distance tri. Okay, I know I could do a half-Iron, if I pushed myself, and maybe without much more difficulty than I had doing that distance 2 years ago. But g'damn it, that isn't good enough. I need to get my brain squared away. I miss the rigorous training regiment.
Yeah, yeah, yeah, I have been maniacally busy lately. And busy doing ridiculously hard physical labor. I am trying to look at it as a form of CrossFit style training. I mean c'mon, lifting concrete block, carrying it a distance, lifting it onto a truck bed, climbing into the bed to stack it, then reversing the process to unload the truck is a helluva workout when it is 50+ cinder blocks, not to mention countless armloads of brick. And multiply that by 4 loads in a week. It is a good workout program. But I miss the focused training, I really do. I need to get my life a little more normalized so I can get back on track, literally and figuratively.
Until then, oatmeal for dinner (okay, with pumpkin seeds, rice protein, and my home-grown/dried raisins), and vast amounts of herbal tea will be allowed. For the time being anyway. Soon though, training resumes soon.
Today, all through the day I had little flashbacks: "I was just getting out of the water, and feeling the effects of hypothermia..." or "I was an hour into the bike leg and finally warm enough to shed a layer..." or "Woo Hoo! Bananas! Fuck Yeah!" It was a great adventure. One of the best days of my life. And I so wanted to get a second chance at it. I know I have whined about this for months, most of this year, actually. I had nearly convinced myself, back in February or so, that I couldn't afford to do the race this year. Then, I convinced myself that if I paid the entry fee I would figure out a way to afford it by the time race day arrived. Instead, the event disappeared, to the dismay of many besides myself. I am still sad about it, really.
I wonder how much of today's melancholy is regret at not finishing in time last year, not getting a second chance this year, having my whole season fubar-ed by a knee injury, or just that the days are getting shorter and winter is breathing down my neck. It could just be Seasonal Affected Disorder raising its gloomy, ugly head. I do have my normal symptoms: short temper, an underlying restlessness, the desire to do little more than eat carbs and sleep, a sense of urgency to get things "buttoned down for winter," and that all too familiar sense of dread. On the other hand, it could just be fatigue.
Whatever the cause, I am struggling with my own attitude. Struggling to keep my fitness on track. Last year, on this day, I was at my absolute peak of fitness. Today, one year later, I know I would struggle to do an Olympic distance tri. Okay, I know I could do a half-Iron, if I pushed myself, and maybe without much more difficulty than I had doing that distance 2 years ago. But g'damn it, that isn't good enough. I need to get my brain squared away. I miss the rigorous training regiment.
Yeah, yeah, yeah, I have been maniacally busy lately. And busy doing ridiculously hard physical labor. I am trying to look at it as a form of CrossFit style training. I mean c'mon, lifting concrete block, carrying it a distance, lifting it onto a truck bed, climbing into the bed to stack it, then reversing the process to unload the truck is a helluva workout when it is 50+ cinder blocks, not to mention countless armloads of brick. And multiply that by 4 loads in a week. It is a good workout program. But I miss the focused training, I really do. I need to get my life a little more normalized so I can get back on track, literally and figuratively.
Until then, oatmeal for dinner (okay, with pumpkin seeds, rice protein, and my home-grown/dried raisins), and vast amounts of herbal tea will be allowed. For the time being anyway. Soon though, training resumes soon.
Friday, September 11, 2015
A Different Level of Training
I've been a little self critical this week for my lack of serious training sessions. As I was climbing the 16' extension ladder up the side of my house for the bazzilionth time this evening, after 2 weeks of scraping, sanding, scraping some more, priming, and caulking I thought back over the last seven days:
Saturday, after a full day of work, I did a tough endurance swim of descending sets. Then got home, ate a quick, protein packed meal and worked on the house painting until dark. Sunday morning, I was debating a cycling and leg workout, or getting right to work on the house painting, when my pager went off. I spent nearly 6 hours on a structure fire, hauling hose, climbing ladders, raking debris, chucking burnt wood, with only a few quick breaks for water and granola bars. The barn was a total loss, but we saved the house, the trees, and the chickens. I admit, I was a bit tired after that, and had previous plans to deliver a pair of kittens so the rest of the day was shot. Monday I got right to work on the house and spent 8+ hours scraping, sanding, climbing up and down a ladder, and lifting and moving the ladder. Paint scraping is an amazing upper body and core workout. Tuesday I worked all day, hit the pool for a tough strength building swim, home for a quick meal and a cup of coffee, then painted until sundown. Wednesday, my body rebelled and laid me low with a stomach bug; I slept 28 out of 36 hours. Thursday, feeling under the gun to get caught up on painting the house, I worked pretty solid with more scraping (there has been a damned lot of scraping), sanding, painting, and climbing up and down the damned ladder to the peak of the house. Today, I got home from work, had a cup of coffee, some hummus and crackers, and some fresh fruit, then back out onto the ladder to paint the primer onto the peak. Multiple trips up and down the ladder. Again, painting until sundown.
The epiphany, as I was climbing the ladder was this: Essentially, I participated in an endurance event Sunday. Anyone who says that firefighting is not an endurance event has not shagged hose for hours, then raked through wet, burned debris hunting for possible hotspots, and finally rolling up and loading all the hoses and gear. You get worn out on the fire grounds, then return to the station and spend another 30-60 minutes washing hose and restoring the rigs. Rolling and hauling 2-1/2" hose when you're already tired takes on a certain air of jocularity, when you feel so damned feeble. Honestly though, what I do is nothing compared to full time firefighters that work in areas with high rise buildings. I can't imagine the fitness level it takes to haul a house bundle up flight after flight, in full gear, with SCBA. It boggles the mind. What I realized, on the ladder this evening, was that I had expended more energy than if I had run a marathon, but without the advantage of a taper, pre-race carb load, or calorie dense race morning breakfast. And, I did not let myself have a recovery week. Instead, my body decided to get sick to force me to get caught up on rest.
I can be too hard on myself at times. True, I am not training to anywhere near the level that I was last summer. But I am expending energy in different arenas, such as house painting and construction, not to mention the occasional emergency call. I have been riding my own ass because my weight is up 4 pounds from my race day weight last summer. 4 pounds... that is nothing. Nothing. I could lose that in a few weeks of just eating fewer chocolate chips at night. But I choose to not cut myself too much slack because it is all too easy to fall into slovenly habits, regain weight, lose conditioning, skip a workout or two or three.
But this week, I deserved a bit of rest that I didn't really allow myself. Partly because I am running out of dry weather and the house has to get painted. But largely because it is not easy for me to allow myself to take it easy. I want to push myself. I enjoy the challenges I put in front of myself. Besides, if I don't push me, who will? Endurance swim tomorrow after work, by the way, then more painting.
Saturday, after a full day of work, I did a tough endurance swim of descending sets. Then got home, ate a quick, protein packed meal and worked on the house painting until dark. Sunday morning, I was debating a cycling and leg workout, or getting right to work on the house painting, when my pager went off. I spent nearly 6 hours on a structure fire, hauling hose, climbing ladders, raking debris, chucking burnt wood, with only a few quick breaks for water and granola bars. The barn was a total loss, but we saved the house, the trees, and the chickens. I admit, I was a bit tired after that, and had previous plans to deliver a pair of kittens so the rest of the day was shot. Monday I got right to work on the house and spent 8+ hours scraping, sanding, climbing up and down a ladder, and lifting and moving the ladder. Paint scraping is an amazing upper body and core workout. Tuesday I worked all day, hit the pool for a tough strength building swim, home for a quick meal and a cup of coffee, then painted until sundown. Wednesday, my body rebelled and laid me low with a stomach bug; I slept 28 out of 36 hours. Thursday, feeling under the gun to get caught up on painting the house, I worked pretty solid with more scraping (there has been a damned lot of scraping), sanding, painting, and climbing up and down the damned ladder to the peak of the house. Today, I got home from work, had a cup of coffee, some hummus and crackers, and some fresh fruit, then back out onto the ladder to paint the primer onto the peak. Multiple trips up and down the ladder. Again, painting until sundown.
The epiphany, as I was climbing the ladder was this: Essentially, I participated in an endurance event Sunday. Anyone who says that firefighting is not an endurance event has not shagged hose for hours, then raked through wet, burned debris hunting for possible hotspots, and finally rolling up and loading all the hoses and gear. You get worn out on the fire grounds, then return to the station and spend another 30-60 minutes washing hose and restoring the rigs. Rolling and hauling 2-1/2" hose when you're already tired takes on a certain air of jocularity, when you feel so damned feeble. Honestly though, what I do is nothing compared to full time firefighters that work in areas with high rise buildings. I can't imagine the fitness level it takes to haul a house bundle up flight after flight, in full gear, with SCBA. It boggles the mind. What I realized, on the ladder this evening, was that I had expended more energy than if I had run a marathon, but without the advantage of a taper, pre-race carb load, or calorie dense race morning breakfast. And, I did not let myself have a recovery week. Instead, my body decided to get sick to force me to get caught up on rest.
I can be too hard on myself at times. True, I am not training to anywhere near the level that I was last summer. But I am expending energy in different arenas, such as house painting and construction, not to mention the occasional emergency call. I have been riding my own ass because my weight is up 4 pounds from my race day weight last summer. 4 pounds... that is nothing. Nothing. I could lose that in a few weeks of just eating fewer chocolate chips at night. But I choose to not cut myself too much slack because it is all too easy to fall into slovenly habits, regain weight, lose conditioning, skip a workout or two or three.
But this week, I deserved a bit of rest that I didn't really allow myself. Partly because I am running out of dry weather and the house has to get painted. But largely because it is not easy for me to allow myself to take it easy. I want to push myself. I enjoy the challenges I put in front of myself. Besides, if I don't push me, who will? Endurance swim tomorrow after work, by the way, then more painting.
Wednesday, September 2, 2015
First Run in Too Long
Went on my first run since the race on July 4th. I've been itching to get out and run, but have been waiting until I had at least a week pain free with my knee. Happy to report that there was no knee pain, just my usual aches and pains. Running is not and never will be a pain free endeavor for me, but it is the price I pay to train for triathlon. I got to run in my new Newton running shoes. They are reported to be the best shoes for the "age group athlete" aka those of us past our youth and prime. All the testimonials from older athletes sing the praises of it being the shoe that lets them run with minimal knee, hip, and ankle pain. Time will tell. But, as for yesterday, they seemed to do the trick. They are a zero rise shoe, with a fairly rigid sole. Not the ultra-fluffy, squishy, over padded running shoe that most would think would be the key to pain free running. I like a thin, firm sole that keeps me connected to the ground. Much as I like my own soul to be firm, solid, and well grounded. The Newtons encourage more of a mid-sole strike for me, which I think will be better for me than my natural inclination to a forefoot strike. I think these will be gentler on my calves and Achille's. The run itself was brief, maybe a mile and a half. My legs and lungs felt good, though I know my endurance is gone. I had planned on running a flat, easy road, but circumstances had me out in Sherwood, near the hospital, with time on my hands. I ran a couple of laps around the hospital, and the road is mostly rolling hills. It did let me test my muscles a bit, and it felt good. I resisted a set of hill repeats on what would have been the perfect little incline. I was behaving myself, running easy, listening to my body. I wanted to run more, was even thinking of running back to the car and getting out my new trail shoes and giving them a spin, but I reined myself in. I finished with plenty of stretching, three sets of standing high knees, a set of split squats, and more stretching. Yes, last night my left foot and ankle hurt like hell, to the point that I wrapped it for a while and took Aleve before bed. But that is an ongoing issue that has little to do with my run, and more to do with standing on a concrete floor all day at work.
Funny thing, as I was running, and feeling remorse over my lost endurance, I realized that I could run a 5K with minimal discomfort. I could run a 10K, but know I would feel gassed after. That in and of itself tells me that my body is still in better condition than it was 3-1/2 years ago, when a 5K was out of the question. The endurance will return. I remind myself that I am taking the long view. I want to be back to ultra-endurance, long course triathlon next year. I will complete my I.M. distance, I want the 140.6 sticker on my window. So for now, I will rebuild slowly, steadily, carefully, and not neglect my strength training. Okay, not that I ever really neglect my strength training, but when my endurance training increases to a billion hours a week, it is tough to fit in other workouts. For now though: easy runs to regain my legs, increase my cycling time, swim 3 times a week, strength training, and reintroduce some plyometrics. This will take me into winter in good shape, and from there on, it is a matter of staying injury free until the I.M. Anvil at Hagg Lake next July. That will be my A Race in 2016, and I just might try for the half-Iron in September. Just have to stay strong and injury free. Just. Wish me luck.
Funny thing, as I was running, and feeling remorse over my lost endurance, I realized that I could run a 5K with minimal discomfort. I could run a 10K, but know I would feel gassed after. That in and of itself tells me that my body is still in better condition than it was 3-1/2 years ago, when a 5K was out of the question. The endurance will return. I remind myself that I am taking the long view. I want to be back to ultra-endurance, long course triathlon next year. I will complete my I.M. distance, I want the 140.6 sticker on my window. So for now, I will rebuild slowly, steadily, carefully, and not neglect my strength training. Okay, not that I ever really neglect my strength training, but when my endurance training increases to a billion hours a week, it is tough to fit in other workouts. For now though: easy runs to regain my legs, increase my cycling time, swim 3 times a week, strength training, and reintroduce some plyometrics. This will take me into winter in good shape, and from there on, it is a matter of staying injury free until the I.M. Anvil at Hagg Lake next July. That will be my A Race in 2016, and I just might try for the half-Iron in September. Just have to stay strong and injury free. Just. Wish me luck.
Sunday, August 9, 2015
After MIdnight
"Wish I hadn't done that workout," said No One. Ever. Here it is, nigh on midnight, and I'm just half hour past finishing dinner. Yes, I ended up doing a 2+ hour workout, finishing up about 11pm. I am carefully easing back into cycling, adding 5 minutes with every session. Tonight was 50 minutes. I got a bit bold and added some higher gearing, keeping a high cadence, but always being mindful of my knee. It was my leg workout that took the bulk of my evening. I added in a few old friends: weighted pendulum squats, and single leg deadlifts. Slowly building the difficulty of my leg work, adding in a bit more quad work now that the knee pain is barely noticeable. Slow and steady wins the race. Or in my case, regains the strength.
Tomorrow morning I will start my day with another cycling session. Doing back to back training lets me get the benefits of longer rides, without the strain. It is a trick I have been using to great advantage for the last year and a half, now I am going to incorporate it, gently, into my rebuilding.
Topped it all off with plenty of protein. Smoothie with banana, almond milk, and 20 grams of brown rice protein. Then cooked up a 3 egg omelet with just a little extra sharp, white cheddar, with a side of Sungold tomatoes. A ripe peach, and small bowl of PB Puffins for dessert.
Just let me say here, I had forgotten how much I like the MLO brand brown rice protein powder. Yes, it is just a little grainy, but it has an easy, neutral flavor, no added sugar, is vegan, and my body digests it well. It is also good bang for the buck. It is about $12 for a 24 oz can. They list it at 24 servings, 14 grams of protein per serving. Most protein powders are more expensive and have half the number of servings. Okay, that is my sales pitch for the evening. Now, it is past midnight, and I need my recovery sleep.
Tomorrow morning I will start my day with another cycling session. Doing back to back training lets me get the benefits of longer rides, without the strain. It is a trick I have been using to great advantage for the last year and a half, now I am going to incorporate it, gently, into my rebuilding.
Topped it all off with plenty of protein. Smoothie with banana, almond milk, and 20 grams of brown rice protein. Then cooked up a 3 egg omelet with just a little extra sharp, white cheddar, with a side of Sungold tomatoes. A ripe peach, and small bowl of PB Puffins for dessert.
Just let me say here, I had forgotten how much I like the MLO brand brown rice protein powder. Yes, it is just a little grainy, but it has an easy, neutral flavor, no added sugar, is vegan, and my body digests it well. It is also good bang for the buck. It is about $12 for a 24 oz can. They list it at 24 servings, 14 grams of protein per serving. Most protein powders are more expensive and have half the number of servings. Okay, that is my sales pitch for the evening. Now, it is past midnight, and I need my recovery sleep.
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