Holger's Ride

I had a big ride to do yesterday--6.5 hours of steady riding with lots of climbing to simulate the France course. Palomar is the one climb in the area that is long enough, but it's about a 2 hour ride to the base and getting people to commit to riding long this weekend was--to quote my friend Ben "like herding cats". I'm gonna blame the weird weather we've been having. On Wednesday there was real thunder and lightening accompanied by actual hail. This just does not happen in San Diego; it lasted all of 5 minutes, but people were traumatized. So, it didn't help my cause that the Saturday forecast was for thunderstorms.

So, I called my friend Holger (German through and through, as you might guess from his name) who has been leading an organized Saturday morning ride up in LA for at least as many years as I've been a triathlete. He assured me that this week's route was quite challenging, and I would not be disappointed. Let's just say that I wasn't.

Contrary to what you might expect, the riding in LA is fantastic. After a painfully short warm up along PCH, we began a painfully long climb up into the Santa Monica mountains along Las Flores. I promised Coach Canada that I wouldn't get carried away chasing the boys--no crazy heart rates early on, strong all day just like Ironman, don't blow up. . .you get the drift. Unfortunately, this climb was so steep that for most of the first hour, I found it physically impossible to keep my HR below 175 and not tip over. Here's a view from the top, which does not do justice to the pain it required to get there.



I would have snapped a pic of the helicopter one of the guys noticed flying around below us, but couldn't manage to stay upright without both hands on the bars.

Anyway, we capped off the rest of the day with another 5.5 hours of good climbs, twisty descents, minimal traffic. When I finally made it back to the car, my legs were baked! I had just enough left for a 30' T run along the boardwalk with views of the beach, rollerbladers, and street performers to keep me entertained.

Nothing to Complain about. . .

I just realized it's been 2 weeks since my last post--how in the world did that happen? With me, it's like they say,I guess--no news is good news. Since the heel has healed (I know. Corny.), I haven't had anything to vent about lately.

Even if I did, I think I'd be too wiped out to actually do it. With three weeks to go until IM France, training is full tilt at the moment. Yesterday's workout, for example, included a 20 mile run, and I am not kidding when I say that was the easy part! (The hard part was the 3.5 hour group ride I did just before, with my legs screaming a none to subtle reminder about the track intervals the day before). Between massive training sessions, I haven't had much time or energy for anything besides the nighttime routine of catching up on the Tivo list. Even that department is suffering--I'm currently on night 3 of trying to finish the 2 hour season finale of Desperate Houswives.

To some, I realize this may sound a lot like complaining, but trust me, it's not. This is, in fact, my most favorite state of being. . .I know all of you long distance athletes out there know what I'm talking about! I'll TRY to do a better job of updating, but in the meantime, hope you're out there doing what makes you happy!

jet lag

Triathlon and traveling are two of my most loved pastimes. Happily, they usually overlap quite nicely--between races, training camps, and sponsor "obligations" (which never really feel like obligations--no, really!!), I seem to spend quite a bit of time on the road. I LOVE San Diego, but when the ankle injury put the kibosh on my early May race and associated travel plans, I started to get the itch to get away. More than anything, I think I craved a distraction from the lack of running. Regardless, I needed a destination.

A few minutes of spare time and kayak.com (like orbitz or priceline, but better) searching produced tickets to Barcelona, where my sister has been spending the semester studying abroad, for $508 RT. . $508?! How can you afford not to go, was my only question. As it turned out, Coach Paul actually had multiple answers to this question, once I finally worked up the nerve to tell him, but by then the tickets were already booked.

So, Andy and I, plus bike--yep. . .just like the American Express card, "Don't Leave Home without It"--packed up for a week in Espana. Incidentally, you'll also need that Am Ex card if your flying with your bike these days since most of the major airlines seem to have raised their bike handling charges. Again. Delta is now charging $300 EACH WAY for international flights, making it literally a more expensive fare for my bike than myself. Ridiculous. Fortunately, I managed to find a sympathetic ticket agent on the way home (either that, or she was too frustrated with my lack of Spanish speaking skills to pursue the issue further), but next time maybe I'll look into getting the bike it's own seat. Sorry, I'll put the soap box away now. This just happens to be one of my pet peeves.

Anyway, despite this minor annoyance and the jet lag, which I've almost, but not quite recovered from, it was an amazingly therapeutic week. We stayed with a friend, Lluis, who lives an hour north of Barcelona, in the Costa Brava region. With out local tour guide, we spent the week absorbing the local culture. Seeing the famous sites, like Gaudi's La Sangrada Familia

Gaudi

Gaudi

And more Gaudi

Also, some less famous, but no less interesting, sites. . .pollo, anyone?

We were also able to take part in the futbol fanaticism--FC Barcelona was playing Chelsea for the Champion's League title and Villa Real while we were in town. Like pretty much every country other than the U.S., they take their soccer pretty seriously over there.

Andy and Jason during the FC Barcelon vs. Villa Real game
Genevieve and I during the game. . .after we decided not to cough up the $200 euros for tickets. We sprung for the $10 scarves, instead, and hit up a nearby watering hole.

Delicious meals, the Girona flower festival, numerous farmers markets, and--yes--amazing bike rides rounded out the week.

Girona
One of the many gorgeous views from my rides

My Spanish cycling domestique, Jorge. . .at least, I think that was his name--between the language barrier and my panting, it was hard to tell.

As it turns out, though, my favorite activities of the trip could have been done right from the comfort of home.

Yours truly, eating a Mickey D's ice cream cone

No, wait!! I'm kidding, McDonald's isn't it. This was not my MOST favorite activity (though it IS a close second. . .). Also, this could not have been fully experienced from home, as I have yet to find a walk up ice cream window any McD's in the states. . .

My favorite activity of the trip (drumroll, please) was actually RUNNING. Finally!! After a month of no improvement, my foot decided to almost spontaneously heal itself. It's amazing. The current thought is that the inflamed bursa was pressing on a nerve, and this nerve entrapment was causing most of the pain. Now that it's no longer being squeezed, the pain is dramatically less. As in, nearly zero. Still being cautious, but I have managed several good runs, and if all continues to go well, I am looking forward to racing this weekend at the New Balance series Half Ironman in Canada.

The Latest. . .

Today I finally sucked it up and went to the doctor. It's been 2.5 weeks of no running, and enough is enough, even for a die hard "ignore it and it will go away" theorist, such as myself. At first, I thought it was just a bit of tendonitis that needed a few days of rest, couple of sessions of A.R.T, and some ice. However, none of the above seemed to be helping. Also, the pain and swelling isn't exactly in the right place for achilles. Turns out it's bursitis, which (fingers crossed) can be fixed with some large doses of anti inflammatories. I get to do a little test run on Friday, so we'll see how it goes.

While one heel is out of commission, I've been trying really hard to work on my OTHER achilles heel. . .also known as my swim. In addition to the bonus yardage I've been getting, I've also signed up for once weekly swim technique sessions. The two current stroke projects are bringing my hands way, way further underneath my body and learning to turn my hips much earlier. As Shakira says, "Hips Don't lie" and right now, my stroke is disconnected, with my top half twisting one way and bottom half the other.

>




As you might imagine, this throws off overall timing of the stroke, so I'm attempting to fix that.

Fortunately, I've also been able to bike a lot, thus maintaining some sanity. Last week I put in about 350 miles, which is a pretty big week for me, though not quite a record. Hoping the heel thing corrects itself STAT, otherwise you may find me trying to beg my way onto a RAAM (Ride Across America) team!

Look What the Easter Bunny Brought Me!

I had a very exciting treat arrive this week, just in time for Easter. . .something even better than Peeps! A brand new Orbea Ordu, courtesy of Orbea and Shimano. I love it.

He/She--I haven't picked a name yet--is awesome! For our first real outing, we rode the Swamii's group ride, a fast paced group consisting of real deal cyclists. This is the ride that all the pros do when they come to town, and this being San Diego, there seems to always be someone in town. It starts off pretty easy, but by the time we reach the first sprint it's a guaranteed legs burning, heart nearly out of your chest, max effort. To say that this ride is a challenge would be a gross understatement, but I love showing up and employing my "strategy" of trying to hang on. Most of the time I get dropped by the front pack partway through--as does most of the group. The human shrapnel then forms into smaller packs and everyone continues working off of each other until the regrouping point.

This week, something amazing happened, and I stayed right up front the whole way! Since I had already started the mental patting myself on the back process, I decided to ignore the chatter about "tomorrow's race" from my fellow group riders. Nope, pretty sure it was all the new bike and Coach Watson's crazy hill repeat workouts in Mauii; )

Jeff Foxworthy Reinvented

Remember all of those "you might be a Redneck if..." jokes, circa late 1990s? Like, you might be a redneck if your house collapses and kills more than 3 dogs. You've been married 3 times and still have the same in-laws, etc. I was thinking the other day--what if Mr. Foxworthy became a triathlete and based his comedic routine not on the habits of those from the back country areas south of the Mason Dixon line, but on the habits of type A triathletes. You know, "you might be a tri-geek if. . ." A smaller target audience, perhaps, but I'm sure there would be no shortage of material.

For example, you might be a tri-geek if you've ever downloaded powertap files at a dinner party:

Heather G, Brent M, and Linsey C taking a brief break from their power tap downloading to smile for the camera

You think that compression socks or an aero bike helmet are part of normal daily attire

Ben @ the St. Croix Airport

You're either swimming, biking, or running (or holding running shoes. . .) in your Facebook profile picture.







Have no idea when your friend's birthday is, but you can list their run splits from their last 3 races. (Tom). . .

You get the drift, and I'm sure could think of a few of your own. Yesterday I woke up and discovered that, to my dismay, I had slept with my HR monitor on. Pretty sure that qualifies me for one of the highest levels of tri geek-dom (a fact which I embrace, thank you very much) But, seriously, who does that?? Normally, that would never happen because I would actually shower post workout, but on this particular day I had to can my afternoon run about 10' in--which every Ironman athlete knows is far too short a run to require a shower--because of some achilles pain. And since I discovered sometime ago that the K-Swiss workout tanks can double as pj's, it seemed perfectly fine to just sleep in those same clothes. . .HR monitor and all. Oops.


After some intensive A.R.T (active release therapy. think really, really deep and specific massage, but WAY more painful. actually, more like torture than massage) with Dan Selstead, I think the achilles is going to be ok soon. Dan, aka "dan the man", is pretty much on every San Diego athelete's emergency speed dial for the very good reason that he can fix pretty much any soft tissue injury quickly, so I have faith. In the meantime, maybe I'll use the extra time for organizing my Clif shots according to sodium content. Or weighing my carbon fiber bike.

Life on the "Outside"

After a month in the Hawaii training bubble, I'm back in San Diego. Now that I'm home, life is returning to normal, which basically means that all the usual training distractions--most of them good distractions, but distractions nonetheless--are also back. Errands to run, friends to catch up with, a wedding to plan, thesis to write--you get the drift. So much harder to ignore things like, oh, the parking ticket that needs to be paid (for parking in a BIKE LANE, no less, shame on me!) when it's sitting right in front of you.

What's that you say?. . .Happy hour tonight? Oh, but I haven't done my swim yet.

Kirsten, me, James, Rachel, & Beth--impromptu post Happy Hour photo shoot

(By the way, I DID still do my swim, it just may or may not have been after a marg. Thanks, Rachel.)

Don't worry, I'm still finding plenty of time to train. Off to the pool now for a 4k swim, followed by a tempo run tonight.