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September 30, 2007
September gets its revenge
I suppose it would be greedy of me to expect every race this month to go off perfectly. This morning was my third race in four weeks, the Treasure Island to YMCA swim in the SF Bay. I did the inaugural version of this race two years ago and now I remember why I didn't repeat it last year. It pretty much sucked.
That's not totally fair to the folks who worked very hard to put on this race. They did everything just right. Really, only the tides sucked. And my experience was bad for a couple of reasons.
It was a gorgeous day. The chop on the water was minimal. The water wasn't even too cold, especially compared to my two recent swims down in Santa Cruz. But only a few minutes into the swim, which I thought I was navigating perfectly, a police boat pulled alongside me and a few other swimmers and told us we were separated from the group and had to veer way left. We had gotten pulled too far to the right by a channel of ebbing tide. Ah, crap. Wasted effort.
Then, as I was sighting, I touched something or someone in the water. It was not another swimmer. Every time I swim in the Bay, there's an underlying... not exactly fear... but knowledge that there are many creatures in the water that are sometimes curious about human swimmers. We even saw a couple of sea lions frolicking in the water right before the swim as we boarded the ferry boat that took us to the start.
I have no idea what I hit, but it was solid (the jab from my hand did not push it away) and a little squishy-feeling and warm (as in warm-blooded). My imagination may be going wild, but it actually felt like I jammed my hand right into some animal's mouth. (Or if you've read Lynne Cox's Swimming to Antarctica, this made me think about her Nile swim... ew.) I didn't see it because my head was above water at that very second. (Even if my face had been down, the visibility in that water is less than the length of my arm.) There were no other swimmers around me. I did not panic exactly, but my heart rate soared as I quickly withdrew my hand and swam sideways to get around whatever was between me and the finish line.
My swim went precipitously downhill from there. My spiked heart rate quickly led to what felt like an asthma attack, which led to wheezing and coughing, and I felt like I had fluid in my lungs. Bad news all around. I wanted to get the hell out of the water, but I also did not want to arrive on shore in a rescue boat.
But the harder I swam, the longer I felt like I was going nowhere. The Bay currents are tricky and it's easy to get caught in a narrow band of a fast-moving current and basically swim standing still. I was making progress; it was just very slow. That damn balloon arch at the finish just would not get closer.
And then, suddenly, I was freed of the current and actually got caught in an eddy that carried me right to the finish. We were supposed to be able to swim onto some concrete steps, but the tide was so low it was below the lowest step, so I heaved myself onto the carpet-covered concrete like a whale beaching itself.
I found my friends and was relieved to hear that everyone had had a rough swim, not just me. I was disappointed with my time and my placing, given how well I've ranked in triathlon swims this year. But overall I guess I did fine. I was not among the swimmers who got so far off course that the rescue boats "relocated" them to a better spot out of the current. I guess that's worth something.
Now, looking at the results, I can see that I didn't do as badly as I thought when I got out of the water -- at the time it felt like I was nearly last. I was 84th out of 162 in the wetsuit division, 11th out of 21 in my age group. Pretty solidly in the middle.
A very nice thing about this race is that it finishes across the street from my home Y, where hot showers and a sauna awaited us, so we padded over there barefoot, a parade of wetsuited swimmers with algae-smeared faces holding up Embarcadero traffic. I've always said there's nothing like the shower that follows a hard workout, but this one was especially delicious.
September 28, 2007
I must smell like a flower
I drove Dave to the airport at 7am today, and instead of joining the herd on northbound 101 to go home, I headed to the nearby Burlingame pool for a wonderful sunrise swim. It was delightful. Much better than sitting in rush-hour traffic.
Then I hopped across the Peninsula for a six-mile run on the Sawyer Camp trail. At mile 2.5 (I know this because there are markers), I got an insect sting. Yes, another one. It got me in the back of the arm, which seemed like a weird place to get a sting, but whatever. After determining there was no stinger left behind, I continued to the 3-mile marker to turn around and ended up having a great run (on legs still pretty tired from two hard races in two weeks).
Back at home, as I got ready to shower, I reached up to pull my ponytail holder out of my still-wet hair and was greeted by a furiously buzzing yellowjacket*, stuck in the ponytail holder by its stinger, venom sac hanging out of its body. Uh. Nasty.
After being stung, I had run another 3.5 miles, driven half an hour, even stopped off at a sewing shop to buy thread for crying out loud, and didn't notice the pissed-off wasp stuck in my hair. (Nor did the lady at the shop; at least she didn't mention it. But maybe that's why the shop cat RAN AWAY from me when I walked in? It's usually pretty friendly.)
Of course, I took photos. Of course. I encourage you to click through to the bigger versions to get a good look at that stinger.
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*I am pretty sure this is indeed a yellowjacket, and I hope critter expert Marissa will correct me if I'm mistaken.
September 24, 2007
Sentinel Triathlon, take three
Yesterday was my final swim-bike-run race of the season, the Santa Cruz Sentinel Triathlon. I did this Olympic-distance race last year, two weeks after Ironman Wisconsin, on very tired legs. And I did it two years ago with a wee bit of a cold. So I had no idea what to expect from racing it healthy and relatively fresh.
My plan was to survive the swim, go as hard as I could on the bike, and then do what I could with the run. I was a little disappointed with my bike effort at Big Kahuna two weeks ago, where I felt my average HR was lower than it could have been. But I have no problem pushing myself on the run. This race is basically the same course as Big Kahuna, just shorter distances, so I know it well.
The swim was just fine, although it was brain-numbingly cold as usual. My time was 28:14, which included a nearly minute-long run up the beach to the timing mat. I swallowed enough of the polluted, 58-degree seawater to make me worry I might puke or suffer other dire GI consequences, but my stomach handled the brine without complaining. (Note to Dave: I told you drinking all that pickle juice would pay off.)
I did push myself quite a bit harder on the bike, averaging 6 bpm higher (and 19.2mph). I had a minor mishap, losing the upper half of the straw that allows me to drink from my aerobar-mounted bottle, meaning it was very difficult to drink water during the ride. But somehow I managed to soldier on with a stumpy straw. Time: 1:16:52.
Heading out onto the run, I searched and searched for the first mile marker. Nine minutes, 10, 11... was it possible I was going that slowly? When I hit 15 minutes, I realized there must not be any mile markers. Doh. (They were there last year, according to my race report.) At least I was able to get a small kick out of this: In our final club track workout of the season, which was last Tuesday, we ran relays during which we were not allowed to look at our watches. Heh.
During the run I knew I was doing well, but I didn't do the math until I was less than a mile from the finish. At that point I looked at the total time on my watch and saw 2:38. Before then I really hadn't thought about what my total time would be. My previous best was just under 2:56. For sure I'd come in under 2:45. But by how much? That last half-mile or so was hard and very, very fun.
I finished with an overall time of 2:43:39. More than 12 minutes faster than my 2005 time. Definitely my fastest Olympic-distance race. Much, much faster than I expected -- I thought 2:50 would be ambitious.
Even without mile markers to pace myself, I averaged an 8:24 pace for the 10k, with a time of 52:21. That's just about 4 minutes slower than my best standalone 10k. Not too shabby.
Better yet, I won the Athena division. And got a $100 gift certificate to a running store.
And even cooler than that, if I had raced age-group instead of Athena, I would have been 9th out of 47. Whoah. A friend pointed out that if there hadn't been two pros racing in the 30-34 age group, I would have been 7th. Holy crap. I'm just not used to placing so well in a big triathlon.
For the stats geeks, I was 60/267 women and 389/837 overall.
I have a few more races planned for the fall, and I'm hoping I can carry this momentum another six months to the start line of Ironman Arizona. This is going to be a fun winter!
September 16, 2007
Bay Area pool tour 2007
I swam five times this week for a total of 12,500 yards. That is a pretty impressive number for me. It might be the most I've ever swum in a week, but it's hard to say because before this year I have always swum in meters (12,500 yards = 11,430 meters). Also, I'm too lazy to go through my old workout logs to check.
I didn't just swim five times, though: I swam in five different pools. That's right, each of those five swims was in a different pool. Here's the rundown:
1) Embarcadero YMCA. This is the pool where I've done most of my swimming in the last six years. It's indoors, five lanes, four feet deep all the way, and generally crowded with the downtown work crowd. The water is pretty cloudy as the result of high traffic, and the floating-crud-o-meter is high. I did a tri club swim of 2100 meters (2300 yards) as a post-race recovery workout on Tuesday.
2) Presidio YMCA. This is where I've done most of my swimming this year since I stopped working downtown. It's the old Presidio Army base pool and a great place to swim. It's indoors, six lanes, deep end, never too crowded, water is cool and clear, and parking is free and plentiful. Plus the Presidio is a fantastic place to tack on a run or ride. My love for this pool is deep and abiding. I did 2700 yards on Wednesday with my favorite coach, Oleg, who is a taskmaster complete with Eastern Bloc accent.
3) Rossi Pool. This is a public pool in the SF Parks and Rec system. Like (I believe) all pools in the SF system, it is 100 feet (33.3 yards) long, indoors, has six lanes, and is heated to a balmy 82 degrees. During lap swim, it is divided into three double-wide lanes, and swimmers circle, passing easily on the left when necessary. This system works well, but with the double-lane system, I wouldn't want to do serious intervals here. Also, the water is too warm for a hard workout. The locker rooms are decrepit but the pool itself is very clean. I did 39 laps (2600 yards) on Thursday. Doing the math for the 100-foot pool kept my brain plenty occupied. $4 drop-in fee.
4) Burlingame Pool. This is a public pool down in a local suburb, also their high school pool. I had an errand to run in Burlingame so I figured I'd combine it with a nice outdoor swim in this swank pool. It's a 50-meter-by-25-yard pool, and on weekdays the lane lines are set up short-course, meaning there are twenty 25-yard lanes. I got a lane to myself way out in the 13-foot-deep end. It was sunny and spectacular. This pool is treated with bromine and tastes salty. I did 2500 yards on Friday. $5 drop-in fee.
5) Bakar Fitness & Recreation Center at UCSF Mission Bay. UCSF recently bought up a bunch of underused land in a heavily industrial part of the city and is building a new research campus, plus a gorgeous new fitness center for all the people who work or live nearby. The outdoor, rooftop pool is six lanes and rarely crowded. It is, however, extremely windy later in the day. I swam 2400 yards there this morning with a friend who's a member. $10 guest fee.
My mom has always been the water-loving type. My grandma gave swimming lessons to little kids for decades, and still gets into her local pool regularly. My dad, however, is completely aquaphobic. I remember him telling us about the Chicago pools of his childhood being shut down during the polio epidemic to prevent the spread of the disease. I don't think he ever got over that. I have never seen him get into a swimming pool, lake, ocean, or river. Except in waders, holding a fly rod.
I think it's fun to look for pools while traveling. Thanks to my YMCA membership, I can often get into pools in other cities for free. My triathlon training has had me swimming in some awesome places. The worst was a YMCA in Boston with water so salty I nearly gagged. The best was the Intercontinental in Chicago, which has an ancient, ornate pool that makes you feel like you're swimming at Hearst Castle. Swimming in a new pool is always an adventure. I'm glad I inherited the love of water from my maternal side of the family.
Now I just need to convince my husband that swimming is fun.
September 12, 2007
A couple more Kahuna thoughts... please humor me
Sunday morning as I walked my bike from my hotel to the transition area pre-race, I saw a woman in a blindingly bright pink Hammer Nutrition jacket. I thought, whoah, it's a little early for that kind of tonal confrontation. I did not think, wow, Michellie Jones is here! But indeed, the Olympic medalist and reigning Ironman world champion had come to race among us. Or, more accurately, ahead of us. Our little local race was her tune-up for Kona.
That pink gear is her signature race wear. Triathlon geek that I am, I should have known it was her. Of course, she clobbered the women's field. And took seventh overall. By the time I finished, she had showered, changed into street clothes and rhinestone-studded sunglasses, and probably read half of War and Peace. Rock star.
The photo above is of my Athena tiki trophy (full view here). It weighs a good hefty five or six pounds, more doorstop than mantel ornament, and it's definitely a fierce-looking mofo. I also got a 26-serving bottle of raspberry (pink) Hammer gel with a flask and a pair of pink goggles. Theme?
I didn't actually sign up to race as an Athena (women over 150 lbs.), as it wasn't available in the online registration. But when I arrived at check-in, I saw that there was an Athena/Clydesdale wave start. I waffled about switching waves: I might win something, but then again, it meant starting 25 minutes later than I would with the 34-and-under women. That was precious time during which the wind on the bike course could pick up. In the end, obviously, I decided to go with the Athenas, because I figured I'd be disappointed if someone slower than me won some cool schwag. (The wind, surprisingly, was not a factor that day.)
This tiki guy has to be good luck. I think I may haul him to Arizona with me. After all, I smuggled a cheerful doorstop with me to New Zealand, where I had my best IM performance so far. Coincidence? Or the luck of the plaster?
September 10, 2007
Big Kahuna. Big fun.
I wanted to go under 6 hours at the Big Kahuna half-ironman in Santa Cruz yesterday. Starting the run, I knew I had two hours and ten minutes to do it. But I wasn't so sure. Could I run that fast? I knew I could, but could I do it on this day?
Well, yeah, I did it. I did it! I finished in 5:54:25. That is nearly a 10-minute PR at this distance.
swim: 34:12
T1 (which included a very long run to transition): 5:23
bike: 3:07:25 by my watch (17.5mph) (official results have 3:09:31 for bike + T2)
T2: 2:06
run: 2:05:18 (9:34/mile)
The swim was fine as soon as I got used to the 61-degree water. Ouch. Brrrr. But no sharks, sea lions, or jellyfish tried to stop me. That was a relief. After we hit the timing mats, we ran a quarter-mile to T2.
The bike was harder than I remember. The course is generally flat with lots of big, big rollers. The two times I've done this race we've had a slight headwind on the outbound half followed by a glorious tailwind for the second half. But today there was no wind at all, and I missed getting that boost in the second half. I was hoping to do the ride under 3 hours. But that's the only disappointment of the day.
I left T2 to see my big group of friends cheering madly for me, which was thrilling. But with 3:49 and change on my watch, I knew I had to run 2:10 to finish under six hours. That's an even ten-minute-per-mile pace. I did 2:15 at Barb's Race five weeks ago, but it was about 20 degrees hotter there. Last time I raced Big Kahuna, in 2003, I ran a 2:06:34.
I started off with a 9:15 mile and felt great. I was passing tons of people. I just kept plugging away, knowing I was putting minutes in the bank for the long hill at mile 8 and the likely slowdown in the last few miles. When the run moved to fairly narrow singletrack trail at Wilder Ranch State Park, it got more challenging to pass runner after runner, but that made it fun, too. After the turnaround, I clocked myself doing an 8:30 mile, but I actually reined myself in, not wanting to pay for it later on. I got to the one big hill on the course and was determined to run while everyone else was walking, as long as I kept my HR under 170. And I did it, and it wasn't even that hard. I did slow down, but I had plenty of those banked minutes left.
By the time I hit the 11-mile marker I knew I would finish under six hours. I had 25 minutes to run 2.1 miles. And I was still passing people. Of course, a lot of people were walking at this point. The last .4 mile or so was the dreaded beach run. We ran down to the beach to the packed sand, under the pier, along the water for what seemed like forever, then back up through the very soft sand to the finish line. A woman tried to outsprint me in the final yards but I didn't let her pass me. It was probably a hilarious sight to see us "sprinting" down the chute like we were moving through molasses.
I was third among the Athenas and got some pretty sweet schwag. In fact, probably the most awesome award ever. I'll take a photo.
The best part? I get to do this all over again -- same course, but only half the distances -- at the Sentinel Triathlon in two weeks. Yee haw!
September 3, 2007
The Machine that Changed the World
I am a devoted Mac user, and I always have been. But now I can pinpoint the day that it all started.
My dad just found the invoice for our first Macintosh computer, a IIcx, which my mom bought on December 5, 1989. It had a 16mhz processor, a 40mb hard drive and probably 1mb of RAM. These are megahertz and megabytes. Not giga (or jiga). The machine was $4,669 and the tiny monitor was $999 before a generous academic discount. My digital watch has more computing power than that 20-pound beige box.
I remember the first thing I wrote using that computer: a short essay for freshman Craft of Composition class in high school. I can nearly recite it from memory. I knew this new computer would let me use different fonts, but it took me forever to figure out how. I didn't understand that you had to highlight the text first.
I took a slightly faster machine to college with me, and I was the envy of my geeky friends with my whopping 8mb of RAM. At some point I bought an empty SE/30 case to turn into a MacQuarium -- I felt that any good Mac addict should have one -- but all the hacksawing got tedious and I gave up.
When we moved from Chicago to San Francisco in 1998, we schlepped our behemoth Power Mac 7100 along, plus a 50-pound monitor that took up half the back seat. We dragged that thing into every shoebox-sized hotel room we stayed in for four weeks. We needed its dialup connection to hunt for apartments. The iBook hadn't yet introduced the world to the concept of an affordable laptop.
We've gone through a couple more computers since then, and we even own (gasp!) a Windows laptop now. But that first Mac was where I spent late nights cobbling together a high school zine with my best friend (who now lives in Ireland but says she reads this site - hi Jen!), where I learned to love writing, where I became an expert in Quark XPress, and most significantly, where I dialed into Prodigy 54 times a day (at 4800bps) to check my email and bulletin boards.
My dad's discovery of that invoice, and the fact that I just sifted through 13 years of emails in the process of migrating to a new mail app, has me on a nostalgia bender. My little world has changed so much in seventeen, ten, even five years. Back in 1989 I felt totally plugged in, I thought my Mac was pretty great and really useful, and I couldn't have imagined how it could get better. But now? I don't think I have to explain how my brain is practically networked into this thing and all its sweet life-enhancing productivity features. Call me fangirl, but I am still in love. My email, photos, music, contacts, calendar, phone (which incidentally is not an iPhone), they're all seamlessly woven together in useful and practical and cool and instinctive ways. How much better will it be in another ten years? It makes me a bit giddy to think about it.
