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August 30, 2007
The Holy Trinity
Arm warmers, knee warmers, vest.
Year round, I rarely roll out of my garage for a bike ride without all three. They are a vital part of any San Francisco cyclist's wardrobe. Even on days when it's not 57 degrees, foggy and/or windy, it probably will be by the end of any ride. Even if it's 90 degrees up in Marin, by the time I get back to the Golden Gate Bridge the temperature will probably drop 20 degrees and the windchill will bring it down another 10. While most cyclists in this country get to bare their arms and legs all summer long, it's really rare for those of us who live in San Francisco.
(Non-cyclists who are picturing a Flashdance type of wardrobe with fluffy pink legwear: You probably wouldn't notice we're wearing our warmers. Knee and leg warmers simply extend our bike shorts from midthigh down to below the knee or ankle, and arm warmers are like long lycra sleeves. In other words, when combined with our already ludicrous togs, they don't stand out.)
Yesterday I rode in shorts and a short-sleeve jersey. We are experiencing a heat wave. It was a glorious day. I rode up to Marin to do my usual 30-miler. I turned around to come back with no bee stings, broken hardware or bonking. There was, however, an unfortunate family whose car apparently ran out of gas on the Golden Gate Bridge. Two passengers were in back attempting to push the car to the nearest exit. This sort of thing backs up traffic on the bridge, messes with a very fragile three-lane flow of vehicles leaving the city and has the potential to wreak havoc on traffic patterns through the entire peninsula. I watched as a CHP cruiser did a heroic U-turn on the bridge, ordered the pushers back inside the car, and pushed the car to the Vista Point exit. Wow.
Anyway, by the time I got back to the bridge, the fog had arrived. The fog is why I almost always ride with the holy trinity. The fog was blowing in from the ocean in swirling 30mph gusts, occasionally obscuring the bridge towers. Marin County to the north was clear and warm, and the city itself to the south was still pretty sunny, but the wind and fog have a way of shoving through that opening to the Bay like tourists vying for an outdoor seat on a cable car. The Golden Gate is like a giant funnel for both water and weather.
I admit that I had stashed my arm warmers in my jersey pocket before I left. I really can't leave home without them. But I didn't put them on; I just rode through the fog and out to the other side. It was cold and windy. And the human obstacle course of pedestrians was even more annoying than usual as they gawked at the incoming clouds and stared at the tops of the bridge towers while they disappeared and reappeared. And I got blown around on my bike and it was exhilarating. And I enjoyed it, dammit.
August 22, 2007
Performance
Dave: This DVD is working like an actual DVD now that I've cleaned the gunk off it.
Me: What kind of gunk?
Dave: Uh, I dunno, gunk. I had it in this plastic bag which previously had some chocolate chip cookies in it or something. (Holds up filthy ziploc.)
Ariel: ...
Ariel: I think your head might have previously had some chocolate chip cookies in it or something.
(Hmm. Some chocolate chip cookies would be good right now.)
(And by the way, that bee sting that I got 15 days ago is still a mottled bruise on my thigh. Still.)
August 17, 2007
Unexpected revelations
My husband just told me, I swear I'm not making this up, "You're missing all the fun not being on facebook." Oy. What I am not missing is yet another reason to spend half three-quarters of my life in front of a computer. Sigh.
...
I am happier than I probably should be about our new washing machine. I was pretty happy about our old washer, to be honest, when we moved here from the 450-square-foot glorified studio where we lived for six and a half years. For those many years we schlepped six to ten weekly loads of laundry (much of it very smelly, sweaty and/or muddy) down the hill to a laundromat. So moving to our current flat with its own garage (!) and washer and dryer (!!!) was a pretty serious upgrade. I shouldn't brag, but these are luxuries in San Francisco. Anyway, the 22-year-old washer stopped working reliably, so our landlords have replaced it with a shiny new model. I have an appliance crush on it. I like to watch it filling up with water and then listen to it humming away as it washes, washes, washes our clothes. Probably not healthy.
...
I eat energy bars when I'm riding my bike. I don't like to eat them at other times. You won't catch me eating a Clif bar for breakfast or any other meal, or even as a snack, or really any time I'm not either on my bike or desperately hungry. I think they are generally kind of icky and there is always something else I'd rather be eating -- but being on a long bike ride makes them magically taste better. So I was pretty surprised when I tried Clif's chocolate brownie ZBar. These things are marketed at kids, free of corn syrup and trans fats, and DELICIOUS. I bought a case at Trader Joe's and I've been eating them for dessert. They actually faintly resemble a real brownie.
...
We attended a wedding reception recently with a lot of high school kids in attendance. Watching them huddle in packs around the dance floor took me right back to 1994. And you know what? Even today, thirteen years later, there's always the one kid wearing a fedora. I guess some things never change.
August 15, 2007
Bacon: saved. Now does anyone know a good treatment for bee stings?
I nearly freaked out last week when I looked up my broken bike part on the Cervelo web site. It's just a tiny little nut. Cervelo would have charged me $3.50 for the nut plus NINETEEN DOLLARS shipping from Canada. Granted, those are wee Canadian dollars, but $22.50 for a one-gram scrap of aluminum? That's highway robbery.
Lucky for me, Eric at Pacific Bikes, a local Cervelo dealer, saved the day. He had the exact nut I needed, he put my new saddle on the bike (and wow, what a difference a good saddle makes*), he adjusted my fit slightly, and he charged me a very reasonable rate for his time and care. I've done bike fittings with Eric before and he's got a gift for triathlon fit. Also, he freelances on the mechanic team at many of the US Ironman events. It was very cool to see a friendly face waving from the sag car several times on the course at IM Wisconsin last year. And then we ran into him in the airport bar on our way home, and I think he was just as tired and sore as I was. Like I said: good guy!
That big bike week I planned? Kind of fizzled. I did ride a bike seven days in a row, and I got in a total of 225 miles plus a very challenging trainer workout (5-minute intervals at 100% watts... sounds hard, and it was). I was hoping for 300-350 miles, but alas, that didn't happen. I did, however, have an excellent ride on the Big Kahuna Triathlon bike course on Saturday, followed by a 30-minute run with pretty fresh-feeling legs. So that bodes well for this season's A race.
The insect sting I got last Tuesday -- over a week ago! -- has turned into a mottled, puffy, bruised, hive-flecked patch on my upper thigh. It's a really ugly circle about two inches in diameter. So far, it has shown no signs of fading. It actually looks kind of like a black eye... nowhere near my face. What am I supposed to do, put a steak on it? Any ideas that won't put me to sleep like Benadryl?
*Huge thanks to Jess and Deb for recommending the Jett... holy ischial tuberosities, this is the greatest saddle I have ever ridden. I am now the proud owner of two and I loooove them. My, uh, soft tissue is so much happier.
August 8, 2007
Big trees and little nuts
This week I planned a lot of biking as a way to jump-start my bike fitness (i.e. cram) leading up to my next half-ironman. Monday I did a super-easy 14-mile recovery ride. Tuesday I rode 35 miles in the afternoon. I felt fantastic... the best I've felt all year. I climbed the hill up to my turnaround point easily and swiftly without dropping into my little ring. I was having so much fun that I went down the other side instead of turning around at the top, just so I could climb back up.
I was cranking up the steep and winding Chapman Avenue, all tra la la! I love to climb!, when a stinging insect flung its little venom-bearing dart into my thigh. The pain was so sudden and intense that I had to stop right there and look down my shorts. Just a few millimeters and the thing would've hit the chamois, which probably would have provided some protection. But man, did that sting hurt. Just a few weeks ago I put some Benadryl in my saddle bag after seeing a friend's ankle swell up after a bee sting on a long ride, so I popped one and made it home fine. Well, except for stopping four more times to make sure the stinger was really gone, and not still stuck in my skin or my shorts. It hurt that much.
Today, after a lovely 3000-yard swim, I headed out for 70 miles -- my longest ride this year. I wasn't feeling great; I think my legs were trying to pay me back for yesterday's zippy 35 miles. At mile 40 I stopped in a state park for water and noticed my saddle was a tiny bit loose. I pulled out my tools and tightened it just enough to stabilize it. I got back on the bike and about half a mile later, SNAP! The nut holding the saddle clamp bolt in place cracked in half. Awww, crap. Thirty miles from home and no saddle to ride on.
I had my cell phone, and more importantly, I had a signal out there in the boonies. Dave couldn't get away from work, but suggested I try riding home out of the saddle (shyeaaah, as IF. My quads were already toast). Leishia came through and offered to come pick me up. She busted her ass to come and get me, but still I had an hour and a half to spend gazing up at the redwoods. There are worse places to spend an afternoon.
I wonder what adventure tomorrow will bring? Hopefully nothing too exciting, as my ride will be indoors.
15 minutes? Ha. Note the saddle. It's not supposed to look like that. It was very loosely attached at this point.
August 6, 2007
Barb's Race results, kinda sorta official
The results are up, but not complete (run splits are messed up). Also, I raced Athena, and those results are completely separate from the rest of the racers for some reason. So here are my semi-official, semi-extrapolated results.
swim: 34:34 (1:38/100yd)
T1: 3:57
bike: 3:16:46 (17.1 mph)
T2: 4:55
run: 2:15:40 (10:21 per mile)
total: 6:15:54
4/15 Athena
65/215 overall -- hey, that's in the top third! AWESOME!
August 5, 2007
Barb's Race: It was hot. I finished. The end.
There's my extremely abbreviated race report for Barb's Race, the half-ironman I raced yesterday. Also: it was hard. Really hard. I suppose I could add a few more details.
This race is a low-key, all-female version of the Vineman Half, a hugely popular and competitive Hawaii Ironman qualifier which took place two weeks ago. Barb's Race takes place the same day as the Vineman full-iron-distance triathlon. There are also Aquabike swim-run races for both half and full distances (I did the full last year). Barb herself is a longtime race volunteer and two-time cancer survivor. The race web site says, "If Barb can beat cancer, then what’s the big deal about finishing a half-Ironman?!" Indeed.
Up until 20 minutes before my start I debated whether to wear my wetsuit or not. The water in the Russian River felt like a warm bath when I dipped my toes in. But everyone else was wearing their wetsuits, and I didn't really want to find out exactly how much time I'd lose without it. So I wore it. And it turned out OK. I didn't overheat.
In fact, I had a fantastic swim. My fastest half-ironman swim before this was 39 minutes, and I was hoping for 36-38. By my watch (the results aren't up yet) it was under 35 minutes. Of course that always makes me wonder if the course was short, but I swam through a LOT of the yellow swim caps of the wave that started 5 minutes before mine. I even caught a few of the full ironman swimmers who had started almost an hour and a half ahead of me. And when I got to my bike rack, only one woman there had beaten me out of the water. She was 64, wore Team USA gear, and had her stuff spread out on an Ironman Hawaii towel. She left just as I got to my bike and I didn't see her again until much later.
I headed out onto the bike feeling pretty stoked about my swim. The bike course is a gorgeous tour of Sonoma's vineyards, mostly rolling with a couple of climbs that are not too long but challenging nonetheless. The day was perfectly cool when I started but began to heat up near the end of my ride. As I inched my way up the final climb, sweat dripping off my chin, I started to feel the heat and the discomfort in my stomach.
I finished the ride, by my watch, in 3:16, having predicted (and hoped for) a 3:15 ride -- just over 17mph. In T2 I took the time to change my socks and lube my toes, knowing that I have another half in five weeks and that I didn't want mega-blisters to keep me from running for a week. Incidentally, by this point -- around noon -- the asphalt in the transition area was so hot that my stick of Body Glide, normally the consistency of chapstick, had melted into runny goo and my gel packets were baked-potato hot.
I grabbed my hat, hit the steaming-hot pavement, and immediately clutched at the stitch in my side. I'm afraid the liquids I had consumed in the last hour of the bike were still sitting in my bloated stomach, which was causing a painful stitch with every stride. I tried every trick I knew to get rid of it, but the only way to make the pain subside was to suck in my stomach really hard. That's hard to maintain for two-plus hours while running. So the discomfort was on and off for the whole run.
That run was hard. I never doubted that I would finish, but I wondered how long I could keep running. My legs were really fatigued; I probably biked harder than I should have to hit my goal time. My stomach was unhappy. And it was HOT, in the high 80s to low 90s, with most of the run course unshaded.
Just today I watched the 2006 Hawaii Ironman coverage (which was a cry-fest for various reasons, but I digress). The eventual 2nd-place woman Desiree Ficker says in some interview footage that sometimes you wish the run course were just one long aid station handing you cold drinks and ice. Sonoma County isn't nearly the blast furnace that is Kona, but I understood exactly what she meant. I just could not get enough cold water or ice. The aid stations were spraying athletes with hoses, and while I'd normally turn down a spray to avoid blisters, yesterday I dumped water all over myself at every chance. I was really glad to have put all that Body Glide on my feet. I was dripping wet for the entire run.
I never thought that run would end. We ran one 8-mile out-and-back and one 4-mile out-and-back. The first lap included some brutal hills which were completely exposed to the blistering sun. Have I mentioned that I just don't do well in heat? I don't have much opportunity to train for it, seeing as how July in San Francisco is generally foggy and cold and damp.
As I finished my first lap and headed out for the second, a volunteer handed me a wristband to wear as a lap counter. As I headed out I passed a handful of friends who cheered madly. My friend Barb (no relation to the race -- hee hee), who had done a smoking-fast bike ride as part of a relay, snapped photos and I tried to smile. I pointed to my stomach and gave a thumbs-down, to which she said, "You're tough! You can do this!" That carried me for several minutes, until I realized that most of the women coming toward me didn't have the lap-counter wristbands yet. That meant that I was ahead of most of them! Maybe I wasn't melting down after all.
That run course just got hotter and hotter and I had to fight ever harder to keep from walking. The route was scenic, but adding to the heat was the variety of barnyard odors as we passed by a goat farm, a horse farm, and acres of vineyards. Ugh.
Once I got to the last aid station for the fourth and final time, I nearly cried with relief. Less than a mile to the finish! I thanked the volunteers again and again, told them they were angels, and admitted I was not sorry I wouldn't be seeing them again.
I passed a lot of women in the last mile. Does having so much energy at the end mean I ran the first 12 miles too slowly? Eh. Who knows. The last woman I passed, just before turning into the driveway that led to the finishing chute, was my 64-year-old rackmate. I was pretty surprised to see her; I had assumed she beat me by a long shot. She's twice my age and she hauled ass. I knew her age from her calf, but I would have guessed she was 10 years younger.
I heard people shouting my name as I sprinted for the line. I could see the seconds ticking over and for some reason I wanted to finish in 6:15, not 6:16. Why 6:15? Because that was the guesstimate I had made in the car on the way up to the race on Friday. It wasn't a goal so much as a vague prediction. According to the clock, I finished in 6:15:59 or so (give or take a second), although like I said I haven't seen the official results yet.
My best-case-scenario run time was 2:00-2:05; my goal was 2:10, which would be 10-minute miles. My final run time was 2:16ish, and I should be fine with that, considering the heat and my stomach issues. I am a wee bit disappointed, although I shouldn't be. If I had finished in 6:15 total and had a slower swim but a faster run, I might be happier about it. It's weird, I know. This is my second-best-ever half-ironman time! Out of six races at this distance! On a tough course! Take it, woman! Sheesh.
Barb herself placed my medal around my neck at the finish. That's her smiling face on the medal above. (I didn't take any actual photos at the race -- the logistics were not conducive to me taking a camera along -- so you get a photo of the back of the medal.) I don't remember much of what happened immediately after I finished, because I wandered around in a bit of a daze, suppressing the urge to puke. I was so happy to be done.
We hung out for a while after the race, putting off our return to the cold and foggy city. I got a chance to talk to my friend Tracy, who kicked butt in her first half. And then at the awards my friend Leishia graciously accepted her bottle of La Crema chardonnay for her dominating first-place finish in the Full Aquabike. (Sorry you didn't get the Pinot Noir, Leishia. We can go back to the winery when you get back from IM Canada. Without our bikes.)
And then we got cleaned up and headed back home and the temperature dropped about 40 degrees as we approached the Golden Gate Bridge and its accompanying blanket of fog.
I'll post the official results when they go up.
