Taking the Reins

Yes, it is ironic…..the day I decide I desperately need to get back on program and start tracking again, I come to our community and there’s my blog, “in need of support.”  Roni, you can say that again. 

It’s funny, because lack of exercise is not my problem.  It’s learning to balance properly fueling my body with my training.   My training program is cyclical, so in one week I may burn 8000 calories, and in another, down to 2500.  Yet I continue to eat as though I were burning 8000 calories, and then the pounds pack on.  Want to know the facts?  Well, back in January, I decided to train for an Olympic distance triathlon.  I got down to 150 lbs through a month of WW (1 lb. below goal, although I was 141 for my wedding and 145 for an entire year after).  I am now fully trained, 156 lbs, but have lost 1/2 inch in my thighs, chest, hips, waist, and bicep.  Tell me this is not cruel!  So while everything I own still manages to fit, I find that the extra weight has packed onto my body and I have this stomach POOCH that is quite possibly larger than it was when I started triathlon nearly a year ago.

I’m devastated.  The extra weight makes me feel very self conscious, and a part of me feels as though I am losing control.  I never thought I’d end up above my goal weight again, let alone 5 lbs. over it.  It scares me to think that I’m only a few lbs away from somewhere I swore I’d never, ever be again.  Petrifies me.

So I am trying to take it all back and get on the wagon again, but it has been hard.  Being able to eat everything I wanted to was not a good influence on me.   Now I feel deprived.  Hungry.  Tired.  But I need to stick with it, because my weight is in the one place that jeopardizes my health…….I need to make it disappear so that I can keep a healthy heart.  (And get faster!!!) 

Anyway, to start being accountable, here is my food log for yesterday.  I’ve got an Achilles injury, so my training is pretty sad right now.  20 minutes on the trainer and I was shot yesterday! 

<my apologies to Amanda and Steph and Melanie, who have already seen this on my other blog>

I did it.

That’s all I wanted to be able to say after this race. I know I have this crazy, speed-seeking reputation and all, but honestly, I do triathlon because it pushes me to do things I don’t think I can do. The Olympic distance, until Saturday at 12:00pm (approximately!), was something I wasn’t entirely sure I could do. A year ago, if you mentioned the distance, I would have said I’d have to be smoking crack to do it. Well, here I am, crack free and I’ve done it.

It wasn’t pretty, though.

So, to the race.

I strolled into transition at 5:30am and couldn’t help but notice that nearly every other Diva was already in transition and done with their setup. Seriously, I thought I was early!! I looked like the kid who came to class late. Anyway, I had no trouble getting in, dropped my gear, got marked, and then chatted a bit. I was more concerned with where I was going to use the bathroom than what was happening in transition. To help alleviate all other stress, my Garmin mysteriously turned itself on sometime in the night and had run its battery dead….so I had no way of knowing my speed, distance, or time on the bike or run. Oops. This race was going to be done on perceived exertion…..how can I go all out when I don’t know how fast I’m going?

We had a ½ mile walk to the swim start, where I put my wetsuit on at the car and then joined the other Olympians down by the water. The Sprinters were already in their chutes, and the crazy, FAA-rule-breaking NBC helicopter was continuously buzzing by. We took a few photos, chatted, and waited. And waited. And waited. When the Sprinters went off, we started getting nervous again…but then nothing happened and we had to wait some more. So there was time for some “acclimation” in the water and a fabulous photo op with Elvis. I was a wreck until our Elvis photo. How bizarre that this triathlete with a shaved chest dressed up like Elvis actually calmed me down more than my husband or fellow teammates!!

Then it was time.

I wasn’t panicky this time around. The thought of doing Pacific Coast had me whimpering at the swim start, but this race I was determined to just get it over with. So I lined up to the far outside in the very front, and then I made them swim over me when the gun went off. It seemed to be pretty smooth compared to the kicking and throttling we witnessed in the Sprint starts. I got out pretty cleanly and managed to stay somewhat close to the front. I never really sighted the big orange buoy too much…..every time I looked up I was headed for it, so that was a plus. About halfway through the swim, we started getting some waves. When we turned towards shore, they started hitting us from the right and I swear, they were almost like rollers out in the Pacific Ocean. They really hit the snot out of us! It was fun, though, and soon enough we were under the bridge and it was time to focus on the bike.

(that’s me on the far left!)
I crawled out of the water and when I got to the pavement, whipped that wetsuit right off. I then proceeded to run. Well, not before I looked at my watch. 26 minutes. Holy cow. Either that was not 1500 meters, or I just swam the fastest I ever have. Anyway, this is important, because I then ran my little tush off to get to the mat as fast as I could. Coach said it was ¼ mile according to her Garmin. My transition time was 28 and change, so this means I clocked an 8-minute mile pace up that miserable hill, barefoot, into transition. FYI – I don’t run 8-minute miles. I am slow, and 8-minutes is what I muster in an all-out timed mile. And then I vomit immediately afterwards.

So I think this is the first thing that went wrong for me. In my vain quest for a good swim split, I sprinted to transition and blew out my legs. In T1, I quickly got my gear on and sucked down a gel while pushing my bike over the mat.

Hopping onto the bike, my legs were shaking and my heart rate was refusing to come down. I was whooped by the time we got out of the Lake Las Vegas vicinity and onto the multi-use trail. I just have to note here that I carefully studied the elevations on this bike course, and while I’m not so good at measuring how comparable one course is to the other, I was certain Santiago Canyon could kick this course in the rear. But I was WRONG. The 3 sisters (er, Bitches as I am told they are really referred to by Nevada locals) are evil cows. That’s what they call the three hills that we hit in the first few miles of our time on the trail. They are fairly short as far as hills are concerned, but the grades were ridiculously high and not something I’d ever encountered before on a road bike. I heard someone say 17% at one point? At any rate, my inner quads were shaking 1/2way up the first and I saw several girls walking towards the top.

I had initially sworn I would never walk these hills, but I started to do some math. These hills finish by mile 9, and then that’s it for the hills. So I have 12-15 + miles of downhill and level riding ahead of me, which I knew I could hammer out on “fresh” legs. Why blow out my legs on these ridiculous hills and sacrifice the majority of my bike leg? So what did I do? I clipped out as I neared the top of #1 and walked my sorry butt a few feet up the remaining part of that miserable, god-forsaken hill. I made it up #2 with no problems, but again with #3, I dismounted and started to hike.

And then I got caught in the act. There went Shannon, FLYING up the hill right past me on her little blue bike. Talk about deflating. My fellow Diva saw me walking up the hill on my strongest sport. Oops! But I was supposed to ride my own race and not get injured, so I let it go.

The rest of the bike was easy, minus the insane crosswinds that rocked my bike out on the trail, the headwinds that fought us back up to Lake Las Vegas, and the car that pulled out in front of me in the street right in front of the cops. I almost threw a bottle at him, but decided that I couldn’t afford the abandonment penalty. After Hill #3, I was never passed again and was able to pass a few people in my age group, finishing the bike fairly strong. I was insatiably thirsty despite drinking all the liquids on my bike, but I did come into transition at 1:25 feeling pretty good.

I’m not sure how I managed to spend three whole minutes in T2. I did take time to apply sunscreen, but I didn’t even rub it in! Oh well. Room for improvement next time.

I was on pace for a 3-hour finish. Or so I thought……….

One of the pros in the race was overheard proclaiming that the run course for this race was VERY HARD and that she felt like she was running on the moon. Honey, we weren’t running on the moon. It was more akin to Dante’s 1st circle of hell, filled with the virtuous pagans and unbaptized children (you know, that’s us—Olympic virgins and those that just don’t know any better— and yes, it’s sad that this race actually invoked a Paradise Lost reference from me). Not only was there not enough water out there, but the damn course kept going up and up and out. You would look out and see little ants in the distance. Girls who were faster than you. On the course you had to run…..in the land that looked like the place in all those horror movies where college coeds’ cars break down and then some crazy cowboy in a blue pickup stalks them and chops them up? Yeah. That was like the run.

The run chewed me up and spit me out. Between the horrible stomach ache I had, the racing heart rate that refused to settle, and this overwhelming voice in my head saying “just stop trying so hard—this is torture—just walk,” I was in pretty bad shape for the first few miles. I had seen Shannon out of transition, but lost sight of her after she ran up the first hill and I ended up walking. I was pretty much alone for quite some time and just had no concept of how far I’d gone or how I’d be able to salvage the run. (Darn the Garmin for dying on me!) I walked up the hills, ran the downhills and the flats, and spent as much time as I could downing water at the aid stations and dousing myself. One of my teammates had told me to keep drinking to make my stomach feel better, and she was right. After I got out of that horrid wasteland of a course out in back of the resort, I was back in the groove. Run a mile, walk a minute. I stopped getting passed. I kept moving forward. And I kept thinking to myself, “there is no way anybody could possibly convince me to run longer in a triathlon.”

I’d just like to state that all the people at the transition area saying that the finish line was only a mile away….only six minutes away….almost there — they were wrotten and cruel liars. That was the longest mile of my life, then! It was such a tease to run through the excitement of transition only to have more race left to run. And then snaking through the village and finishing UP another freaking hill? Insanity, I tell you. But I kept running for the sake of the camera crew and because my fellow teammates had stuck around to cheer us on through the finish chute. And then it was over, and instead of crying like I thought I would, I had no emotion at all. The run had sucked my poor brain dry. I was proud that I had finished, but a little disappointed in my run and in the end, was a bit upset to see that I wasn’t as high up on the results list as I’d like to have been. I know, I’m so shallow. It just means I’ll have to train harder and focus on my newfound weaknesses so that I can hammer out Danskin and redeem myself at Pendleton!

On Super Bowl Sunday, hubby and I were all by our lonesome.  I’m not one for making a huge event out of the Super Bowl, since I HATE football, but I decided to humor DH and clear the schedule for the day.  He bought Habanero Doritos, a frozen pizza, and other nasty, tempting goodies that surely are not on program.  So to counteract this, I went on a hunt for a recipe I could make for the week that would satisfy my junk food craving and also be somewhat healthy.  Miracle of miracles, I found Velveeta Light in my local grocery store for the first time since I moved from Washington, DC over a year ago!!!

Do you know all the things you can do with Velveeta Light?

Call me low rent, but I went to town.  I cooked some lean ground turky with some taco seasoning, sauteed some fresh green peppers and onions, added a can of TJ’s salsa, cubed 3 servings of Velveeta light, and then tossed in 1/2 box of cooked whole wheat pasta….put it in the oven for a 1/2 hour, and voila!  Yummy goodness.  Now, probably 8 points a serving if I really wanted to calculate that, but that’s a heck of a lot better than Doritos and frozen pizza.  And boy, did it feel good.

Life’s been crazy lately, but I have been weighing in.  In a month, I’ve lost 2.9 lbs, am back down below goal, and am 0.8 lbs away from the 140’s!  On top of that, my triathlon training has stepped up a notch.  We can now comfortably swim a mile, bike for an hour, and run for 4 miles…..now we are learning to go longer and combine those workouts together.  So last night was my first 90-minute bike ride on my trainer — I watched a whole movie!– and tonight I hit the gym and knocked out 5 miles on the treadmill at 6.5.  A year ago, I never could have imagined it.  But now?  Piece of cake.  Both workouts were very easy and I could have gone MUCH longer.  I’m psyched!

In more exciting triathlon news, our big Olympic distance race in April is being nationally televised.  I can’t remember if I’ve discussed this here or not, but this is pretty cool.  You usually never see anything on TV aside from Ironman, so this will be different…..every day women racing a distance that Olympians compete in.  I’ve booked my hotel room, booked my flight, and I’m ready to go!  (OK, need some more training time)

So, for now, back to my Velveeta Light creation.  Because I’m in love……..

that I resorted to double workouts today so that I could eat a hamburger and french fries tonight?

 Well, I didn’t do the workouts in order to eat poorly.  I actually needed to get them in for my training this week because my schedule has been so chaotic.  It just so happens that hubby wanted to check out Knowlwood tonight, I had flex points, and I figured, why not?  I know I shouldn’t reward myself with food, but I was really craving salty fries and protein at the end of the day.

Got up nice and early this morning and hit the pool.  I had my workout in a Ziploc bag, so it was easy to keep track of what I needed to do.  Lots of speed intervals, an all-out timed 500 meter for our coach to gauge our fitness levels, and then a nice slow, long 1000 meters.  It was so great to be in the pool again and to hammer out an excellent workout.

I came home and then took my new bike on its maiden voyage.  It was only in the neighborhood because I was breaking in my new pedals, but it was slick!!  I love my new bike.

Hubby wanted to do a run this afternoon, so we hopped in the car and went to my favorite park that has a 1.3 mile loop that’s 1/2 on a mulched path, and 1/2 on asphalt.  I had to do a run that adds 10% to my current distance, so that meant I needed to do 4.4 miles.  We also needed to do some speed pickups in the middle, so I alternated between SLOW and fast for the whole 45 minutes.  I was exhausted by the end, but I got in my run and increased my distance.  I’ve never run farther, and I’m closing in on 5 miles!  I need to get up to 6.2 for my race.

So that’s my scoop.  I’ve abandoned the Abs Diet because I just don’t have time to make smoothies all the time, and found that all the nuts were leading me astray in the calorie side of things.  I’m all WW, and I’m happy!  (Finally — what a week)

This morning, when I weighed myself at home, I felt my stomach drop.  I didn’t immediately recall my weight from last week, but I was instantly discouraged by what I saw.  Then the panic set in.  “How can I go to WW if I haven’t lost a pound?”  “What will they say to me?”  “Why can’t I just skip this week and weigh in next week?”

Thank goodness for my coworker.  She was gung-ho about going and gave me the extra push I needed to get out the door and into that meeting.  And lo and behold, I was down 1.2 this week!  Hey, at this point, I will take it.  If it takes me 10 weeks to drop 10 lbs, it takes 10 weeks.  I can handle this.

This is why going to meetings is important.  When you stop, the mad cycle of “maybe next week I’ll lose enough to go back” begins and it’s vicious and difficult to get out of.  So step out the door and go, even if you think you’ll get bad news.  It doesn’t hurt as bad as we sometimes think it will.

It’s  been a stressful week.  It was there.  We were forced to stay at work over the lunch hour for a mandatory 1pm meeting.  I was starving.

 I ate a slice of pizza.

This is huge, because I have resisted pizza for quite some time now.  In fact, my last REAL pizza (because we all do our own English muffin pizzas and Lean Cuisines) was the night before my wedding.

I have to admit, this pizza was a disappointment.  For all the angst it caused me, the bloating and discomfort that followed were far worse.  Far, far worse.  Why do we eat this crap?  Why do we think it’s going to taste so damn good?  Why can’t I hold this horrible, bloated, painful feeling in my brain permanently so I can eat better in the future?

You know, there is no cure.  I just have to eat.

I will say, tonight I did one hum-dinger of a workout.  60-minute spin class at my aerobic threshold, followed instantly by 25 minutes on the treadmill.  I was hoping to run longer, but my knees started to hurt and I decided not to push it. This is technically peak week for my triathlon next weekend, so this was a must-do brick.  The bike course at Subaru is flat, so I don’t feel guilty at all for taking my exercise indoors for now.  It just gets too dark after work to plan a bike AND a run.  Thank goodness for weekends!

So there you have it.  Pizza, and a 1,000 calorie workout.  What shall I do in the off-season?!

Well, it’s that time of year again.  I’m a football widow!

That’s why I ate the cake last night.  And the In and Out Burger.  And the soft taco lunch.  (Actually, those were the best things I ate yesterday……9 points MAX, but probably less…..) 

 But, today is a new day, as I sip my Coffeemate Creamer and Coffee and deal with the football that is on in my living room.  Today, I am going to behave.  I swear.  Pinkie swear.

 Will report back so I stay accountable.

I’ve finally reached it.  That point where I’m fine with the number the metal devil is spitting out at me.  I’m fine with it, because I’m pretty darn happy with the way I look and feel!  Yes, the tummy pudge is still there, but it’s slowly, ever so slowly, creeping back.  I can wave hello or goodbye and not worry about jiggling in shame.  I wear tank tops and shorts without worrying what people think.  I can EAT stuff in front of people now without feeling ashamed…..yeah, I had a cookie.  I also burned 800 calories in my workout last night— what did YOU do? 

I never thought I’d get there, but I am.  I’m happy with myself.  I know I’m not perfect, but I’m healthy, and I’m fit.  And it’s only going to get better from here if I continue on the path I’m on.  I’m only 2 1/2 months into my beginner triathlon training program, and I’m already reaping huge benefits.  I’m so excited to see what is next!

 So with that satisfaction is the admission that I haven’t been counting points lately.  WW helped me lay a foundation for how I can eat, and what I can eat.  This is my baseline.  I know that I can’t eat pizza, donuts, or Chinese takeout like I did back in the day.  I get that deserts should be a rarity at restaurants.  And I’m fine with that!  But with all this working out, I have to eat a heck of a lot more points than I’m used to counting.  Today, for instance…..I had a 7-point breakfast, a 5-point protein shake for lunch with a 2-point bar, an 8-point PB&J after my workout, and 4-points worth of nutrition for my workout.  And then 2 points worth of snacks.  I think.  You see, I just don’t remember…..but I’m not eating excessively, and I’m staying in the healthy range of foods.  I think I’m going to go along with this for a while and see where it takes me.  I’ve held steady at this weight, plus or minus 1.5 lbs, since April, and clearly I’ve swapped some fat for muscle mass since then.  While I’ll have WW as my fallback, I don’t think I’m going to do my tracking tables like I once did……it just doesn’t work for me right now. 

 Anyway, there’s my confession. 

Tonight, I did 60 minutes of hill repeats.  We have a heinous trail outside of my house that has a continuous hill for 2 miles.  I literally bike up it at 11 mph…it’s that slow and painful.  I went up and down 4 times tonight, covering roughly 16 miles.  Wowzer!  It’s peak week.  I took it a little slower than usual so that I could sustain my pace, and aside from the rattlesnake crossing my path on the uphill on the 3rd climb, it was pretty uneventful.  Knees held up great, I didn’t feel nauseous (made sure to drink protein shake and eat a bar 1 hour before— really helped to get more than 100 calories down the hatch for this one), and I mostly enjoyed myself….except that my girl parts hurt again.  Why I can’t crack the code on this is beyond me.  Those crazy Ironman women are riding their bikes 108 miles after a 2.4 mile swim and before a 26 mile run—- if they can bike that long on their girl parts, surely my measly 16 miles should be painless?!!!

Thanks again for all the congratulatory posts on my tri race report.  I’m still really happy with my performance, but #2 is less than 2 weeks away and I’m already nervous.  It’s much longer and more difficult— just my luck!

I am once again a triathlete.

(insert heavy sigh and big smile here)

I’ll start from the beginning, since I’m never short on words and wouldn’t want to shaft the experience in any way. (Note to readers: this is obnoxiously long. Don’t even start it if you get bored easily…and to my other blog readers, this is a repost)

I think my triathlon story starts Saturday morning, as I’m just about ready to leave the house. Car is packed, cat is taken care of, and I’m doubled over the toilet feeling like I’m going to ralph all over the place. Was it the Peridium or the Cipro? Probably. Had I eaten or drank enough to take my meds? Probably not. Ugh. I intended to leave at 7am, but my nausea sidelined me until 7:20am. On the plus side, I learned a side effect from the pills and decided what not to do on race morning.

The drive up to Santa Barbara was almost pleasurable. Didn’t hit any traffic at all, and it really was a beautiful ride once I got out of LA. When I got to Santa Barbara, I parked my car at the Pier and then rode my bike to the race (about a mile— on the run route!) where I met my roommates and stored my gear. Our Coach was doing the long course that day, so we were trying to figure out when we’d see her again. She rocked her 1-mile swim and 34-mile bike, and had just gone off on her run when I arrived. I picked up my race packet, cheered on some elite athletes as they finished eons ahead of everybody else, and then met up with the other Divas and their signs. Coach KILLED the finish. She sprinted her little booty off coming down the “chute” and we screamed and clapped as loud as we could. I was just so proud of her….3 minutes under her goal time, and looking phenomenal in the process. She is such an inspiration to all of us, so it was fantastic to see her race and show her a little love in the process.

After our coach photo ops, we all went our separate ways. I walked to the Santa Barbara Zoo and had a lovely afternoon seeing the animals, then hit up the local farmer’s market for some race day fruit and water. We met back at the hotel pool and chatted for a few hours about racing in general and what we should do in different situations on course (I’m awfully concerned about getting a flat—- basically told Coach I was running it in because it’d be way faster than waiting for me to try to change the fricking tire) Then we all went to dinner at Palazzio, this cute Italian place in the main street area of town. Mmmmm…..garlicky, buttery warm buns and angel hair pasta with tomatoes, basil, and brie!!! I went to town and forgot about the diet. Coach made me do it. Actually, I wasn’t that bad. My sauce was just light olive oil, I only ate 2 little buns, and we shared a main dish— could’ve been worse.

***I must digress here and make a comment about a few of my heavier Divas. I had a chance to see what they eat behind closed doors this weekend, and now I know why they aren’t shedding pounds in the program. My awesome, sweet roommate downed almost a pound of toffee-coated peanuts, several Oreos, a bag of potato chips…..and a few other ladies munched down an entire bag of taco chips and Chips Ahoy cookies at the pool. At dinner, they ordered appetizers and multiple main courses, and had a lot of everything. I wanted to stop them and tell them about Weight Watchers. About how they were sculpting nicely and turning into gorgeous ladies, but they could really take it to the next level if they’d just moderate a little bit. Ah!!! But it’s not my place, and it’s a personal decision we all must make.

When I get offered these things and decline, they look at me weird, like I’m trying to be holier than thou. When I try to explain that I was 30+ lbs heavier several years ago, they still roll their eyes. Okay, so I know I wasn’t morbidly obese before, but my BMI was well above 25, I was wearing sizes 12 (tightly, I might add— should’ve been 14’s), and I was unhealthy in my eating habits. I’m over being told that I don’t need to watch my weight. I do! I swear!

****Back to the triathlon.

So, we woke up at the ungodly hour of 5am and walked over to the transition area at 5:30am. We stood in line to get in, but we were pretty close to the front and that assured us all “end caps.” (You want your bike at the end of the row so you don’t have to worry about traffic getting to your stuff) I swear Ducky from Pretty In Pink was in the co-ed race and was in line in front of me, but it was early so I make no guarantees. After setting up transition, I realized I’d forgotten my swim cap at the hotel so had to run back across the street. And then I had to pee. Again, and again, and again. Clearly, the bladder infection has not disappeared yet.

After group photos, more trips to the bathroom, a quick dip in the water (we won’t go into details about what went on there….but come on, we know everyone does it), and some last minute prepping, it was time to stand by our swim caps at the start and get ready to rumble. I was in the first wave, with all the teeny boppers and under 30’s. We were a pretty fit group, to be honest. I was probably one of the biggest ones there, which was not the way the rest of the heats were. I was pretty quiet, and the only thing going through my head was that I had to flippin’ pee again. Yes, the water was frigid. Yes, I had a whole race ahead of me. But pee was on my mind.

When it was time to go, the mass group of us sprinted to the surf. So much for going out first. I was three-deep in line going out and the fast girls were well on their way to the first buoy when I decided to stop running and just dive in. There was some wrangling for position on the way out, and I got groped by an awful lot of women. You’re all headed in the same direction, so it’s inevitable. I tried to just keep everything steady….not to get too fast or else I’d peter out in the water. You see, I only have one speed for swimming. In the pool, when I go “all out,” I only shave a few seconds off of a 100-meter time. So the excess energy just isn’t worth it for a race. At any rate, it felt like an eternity to the first buoy….and the 2nd buoy took a while to get to, too. I then felt like I was in a groove and trusted that I was swimming in the right direction next to a girl that swam at my pace. I kept with her the whole time, headed to shore, and then started dreading what was coming next!! I caught a HUGE wave to shore, sending me hurtling past everyone who’d worked so hard to swim past me on the way in. Hehehe…..I reached down, felt sand, and then jumped up and did my funky chicken run out of the water like Coach told us to.

Coach was there, bless her. At that point, I was feeling like, “I know I have a goal, but let’s reassess and just finish the race and forget about time.” But Coach was yelling, “Go Mtngirlincali! You can do it! RUN to the mat!” Oh, yeah. Forgot about that. The swim time includes a lovely run up the beach to the transition area. So rather than have a slow swim time because I walked like a granny, I ran and unzipped my wetsuit until I hit the mat. Walked through transition, got out of my suit, threw on my glasses and helmet, attempted to put on my shoes and socks, and then grabbed my bike and went. I was soaking wet, there was sand and water in my shoes, and the salt from the ocean was gagging me, but off I ran with my trusty orange bike. (It needs a name, btw…..I was thinking Flaming Orange Goose because it’s all funky orange with black on the fork, but I could be persuaded to call it something else)

I had some trouble putting my foot in the left cage when we mounted, but since it was only a 6-mile course, I decided not to lose any more precious time by attempting to put my foot somewhere it didn’t want to go. So off I went. Coach told me that to accomplish my goal of doing the bike in 20 minutes, I’d need to push 20+ mph on the straights. Seeing as how I’d never done that before, I thought I was done for. BUT on a whim, I geared up a little more than I’d normally be comfortable with and what do you know? 21 mph. Woohoo!! I was down to 8mph on two of the hills, but they were outshadowed by the downhills and straightaways. Not even the train, which stopped me in my tracks and took about :30 seconds to clear out, could slow me down! (That’s a funny story— these crazy women were swerving through the railroad crossing arms immediately after the train went by even though they were still down— there was a cop watching, too!! I behaved)

Overall, the bike felt phenomenal. I was cheering on other Divas as they were starting their course, and I felt great. What a rush! But then the realization occurred to me— the run was next.

I am not a runner. I do not pretend to be a runner. I even have trouble faking it ’til I make it. ( I suppose that’s the same as not pretending, but whatever) T2 was fast. I dropped the bike, took off the helmet, grabbed my race belt and hat, and took off. I put it all on as I ran and crossed the mat, then set my sights on the run. By then, I had checked my watch and realized I was miraculously still on target to hit my goal time. No way! But I was breathing pretty heavily and knew my heart rate was probably up at the top of the range, so if I was going to hit the time, I’d need to bring it back down and settle a little bit. Usually I wait 5 minutes until my first 1-minute of walk, but today I had to walk after 2 minutes. I collected myself, breathed calmly, and tried to visualize feeling awesome and having no troubles at all. I wish I could say it worked perfectly, but at least it got me through the rough spot. I settled around 10-minutes, which seems typical for me. If I can work through the pain of the first 10-minutes, I can usually go indefinitely after that. I walked the water station and drank, then took off for home.

The one bummer about Santa Barbara is that you can see the finish line from the halfway point. It might be a motivator for some people, but to me, it was SO hard to get geared up for it because I’d been staring at it for so long. I skipped my last scheduled walk at 17 minutes (I realized I could possibly beat my goal time, so I decided to just go through the pain) and kept pushing. My bladder ached, of all things. Go figure! But I have antibiotics for that, so I convinced myself to keep going….that I should not only look forward to the finish line, but also the toilets! So away I went. At the end of the finish chute (we’ll call it that….it’s basically the part of the trail that starts at the transition areas and goes all the way to the finish line, and it’s lined with cheering family members and friends), Coach was there with her Hawaiin leis. She handed me one and said, “Finish Diva-style…..sprint it in!” OMG, I had nothing left. But I picked it up as well as I could, gasping for air the entire time because I’m no better than a 10-minute mile and today I had to beat my pace.

And there it was. The finish. I kept on strong til the very end, and when the announcer said my name, I looked up and there was my time— I beat my personal goal by :10 seconds! (I’d tell you my time, but I have to try to be somewhat anonymous here) Wohoo!!!! It didn’t feel the same as my race in Colorado several years earlier, but it was still special. And I know it was just a super sprint, but I raced as hard as I possibly could, trusted in my training, and was really proud of myself. Today, I felt like I earned that Tridiva jersey.

Results were up just as I was leaving, and I had placed in the top 1/4 of my age group! There were over 35 of us, so I was really happy with that. Elated, actually. I was telling the hubby last night that I was wondering why I was doing triathlon, as it was a sport I’d never be able to be competitive in. Well, you know what? There may be hope after all!! I may not be an endurance athlete, but maybe I’ll be a decent sprinter in the future?!  EDITED:  Results are posted.  I broke the top 50 out of 335 people.  Woohoo!!!!

So, that’s the race. And the best part? Standing on the sidelines and cheering on my teammates as they made their way to the finish line. Some of them were crying it was so emotional…..I mean, people have no idea what they can get their bodies and minds to do. And it is true that really everybody can complete a triathlon….it doesn’t matter if you are short, fat, heavy, slow, or disabled….there is a way if you have the will. Moreso than a race against others, it’s really a sport where you race against yourself. And isn’t that the very best kind?

Kudos to the staff and volunteers at the Santa Barbara triathlon—- an awesome time, and they did a great job!

And hopefully better than ever….. Well, okay, I just wanted to use the cliched saying. I’m just going to be me, and whether that’s better than ever or not is entirely subjective.

Anyway, I’ve already updated my Blogspot blog, but I’m going to import it over here and see how that goes. Am hoping I’ll get this site all souped up and back to its former glory over the next few days, but I must take baby steps. I lose blog motivation quickly, especially when it comes to tables!!

At any rate, will now attempt to import posts. Wish me luck!

After a wonderful month of May culminating in the 140’s, I’m now right back up there at 152.5. WTF?!!! I was 150 lbs when I started the triathlon training a little less than 2 weeks ago, and I haven’t had many huge splurges that would undo all the exercise. In fact, I’ve tracked my cardio on Sparkpeople and I’ve burned over 8000 calories in the past 2 weeks. I CERTAINLY have not consumed that many in addition to my 1100-1300 I eat on a daily basis, that’s for sure. It is so frustrating when you work so hard and the scale goes up. I know everyone says muscle weighs more than fat, but now I’m back up over my goal weight (151.5), and there is no reason for that, even if I do have a ton of muscle.

Aside from continuing to hydrate and attempt to eat well, I am at a loss for what to do to see the scale inch down to where I want it. I should probably follow my own advice and wait and see how things go with the training, continue eating responsibly, and let things work out on their own. Grrr….my body is a brat!

Today, we were assigned to run a set distance by trying intervals….3 minutes of running followed by 1 minute of walking. I set my total distance to 3 miles — triathlon distance — and went for it after the sun started to go down. It was amazing. I wasn’t tired at all for most of it!! And the good part is my knee isn’t killing me too much, either. At any rate, I ended up finishing the 3 miles in 33 minutes. Hey, I can live with an 11 minute mile, especially considering the fact that it took me 38 minutes in my last tri to do the same distance. We have a full track workout on Thursday, so we shall see what Coach has to say about all of this. I’m psyched, though. There’s hope for me yet!

Here’s the damage for the day: