San Diego Tri Classic, Baby! (and more)

I know, the post-race blogs are always the fun ones – so let me get the more trivial stuff out of the way, shall we!

Monday was a holiday – when my alarm went off at 4:30am, I turned it off and went back to sleep.  I got myself out of bed by 5am and decided I could do an easy ride out Pecos Rd.  Matt was in the mountains with his family, so I knew I just needed to get about 15 miles on my legs at a relatively easy pace. 

However, as I pulled my bike out of my car at the Park ‘n Ride, I noticed a lot of cyclists heading out for their morning rides, as well.  I hopped on my bike and started out Pecos.  Within a few short minutes I passed a group of 4 cyclists going fairly slow.  Admittedly, we weren’t far from our starting points, so it was likely they were warming up – but I guess I had a little something to prove, so I moved around them swiftly. 

Then, as luck would have it, another group of 3 guys were ahead of me another mile down Pecos, so I took what I had and announced I was on their left as I maneuvered around them, as well.  It was light enough to see my bike clock, so I knew I was traveling around 20 mph – not so much an easy pace, but I was having fun.  Knowing those 3 guys would not be pleased that they were passed by a woman, I kept 20-22 mph’s the entire way out Pecos to the end.  And, then I saw them – as I did my turn around.  They were working hard, collectively, to show me up.

Of course, I didn’t let off and I crushed the rest of Pecos Rd – crushing my previous  times on the course.  About ½ way back to the Park ‘n Ride, I passed another rider shortly after the hill at Desert Foothills.  He seemed to have been moving pretty slowly, after the hill, so I took advantage of another cyclist and carried on down Pecos.  As I approached the Park ‘n Ride, I glanced over my left shoulder to see if I could cross the lanes of traffic only to see the guy I’d passed hugging my wheel.  That jerk had the nerve to latch onto my wheel with nary a peep about it.  He could have killed me or vise versa.  As I signaled and crossed the 4 lanes of traffic – entering the park ‘n ride -  I looked at him and snapped, letting him know what a DUMB move that was and how critical it is that one announces that they’re going to draft off of you before actually doing it.  I lost it.  The guy didn’t even apologize – he just made his way to his car with his tail tucked between his legs. 

Tuesday, I got up and ran 4.5 miles.

Wednesday, Matt and I enjoyed an easy ride out part of Pecos and the Reservation.

Thursday, I swam a little.

And, Friday – before leaving for San Diego – I did an easy 3 mile run around the ‘hood.

So, where to begin.  My friend, Kris, nicely offered to keep me company on the trip.  I prefer to travel with someone and Kris admitted she was more than happy to be my Sherpa for the day – not to mention she was happy to enjoy her long run in San Diego – so I picked her up around 8:30am on Friday and we headed to San Diego. 

As soon as we arrived, we met up with my good friends, Erin and Justin, and Erin’s dad.  We went straight to the expo and packet-pickup.  Erin and Justin had a bunch of friends joining them for the race, as well, so about 12-13 of us descended on the expo and then later went out for a fantastic meal in Little Italy.  Their friends were a blast.  I spent the evening wedged between two hysterical guys – Mark and Dan.  We chatted music, endurance sports and craft beer – you can imagine my delight. 

Erin playing in the kids area of the park near transition.

I hit the sack early and met up with all of them at Transition at 4:30am Saturday morning.  I was stoked.  It was good to be back and I was especially excited to have Erin and Justin racing with me. 

I am pretty silent prior to a race – pensive and deliberate – thinking about the course and my plan for the day.  Last year I bested 3:05 on the course and was really thrilled with my time.  It seemed my most perfect race. 

Erin, Me and Justin

As I put my wetsuit on, I could see Kris in the background watching all of the athletes prepare.  Mr. Ali was there, too – as it turned out I was in Wave 5, Mark and Dan in 6, Justin in 7 and Erin in 8.  Three more of their friends (Ramon, Jesse and Rick) were doing the relay – so I have no idea where they were in the mix. 

I could barely breathe from excitement.  As soon as the elites got into the water, I made my way to the beach to put my feet in and feel the water temp.  It was cold, for sure, but not terrible.  I think the announcer said “high 60’s”.  My best friend, Anne, sent me pics of her kids holding encouraging signs before the race – and I was on cloud 9.  I had trained for this and felt ready.

As the Waves were sent out, it was finally time for mine.  Kris caught some video of my Wave heading out.  (We were Green – the ones before purple.)

I was focused and felt strong.  Within a couple of minutes, I was passing swimmers and it felt nice.  I got a little off track and headed out to the outside a bit more than I intended, but when I got myself back on track, I could see caps of different Waves (blue – Wave 4; Brown – Wave 3; Pink – Wave 2) – and I was passing many of them.  That felt great.  Then, as we were about 600 meters from the end of the swim, a guy in a bright yellow cap came swimming perpendicular to us and hit at least 4 of us in the head with his hand, elbow or foot.  He righted himself, but did so right near me.  It made me miserable, as he bobbed and weaved and made a mess of an excellent swim line.  (I later found out the yellow caps were the Sprinters who were joining us mid-swim.)  As he continued to hit me with his hands, elbows and head, I finally slowed down, grabbed the asshole’s foot until he stopped swimming.  I snapped, “Give us a fucking break and learn how to swim!”  Another guy audibly appreciated my scolding and we all went back to swimming.  I think Mr-Yellow-Cap hung behind me for the rest of the swim.  Once it was over, I was out and running to transition. 

The distance between the swim and my bike seemed inordinately long.  But, I threw my helmet and cleats on and headed out of transition, as I sucked down a Gel.  The temps were rising and the humidity seemed out of control, but the breeze on the bike with my wet clothing felt nice at first.  I had failed to position my ponytail correctly, so my helmet was a bit less comfortable than it should have been, but I said “screw it” and rode on. 

This year we were all made to slow down, substantially, as we entered the Naval Base due to the speed bumps (x4).  Last year there were many downed cyclist who weren’t paying attention, so they were uber cautious this year. 

At mile 4, we hit “the climb” – its really no joke.  More than a 7% grade for nearly a mile.  By the time you reach the top, you are wasted – and I’ll admit, it felt worse this year than last.  Maybe I didn’t train as well on the hills as last year, maybe it was warm, maybe my hands were simply too slick from sweat to enjoy it – I don’t know.  At least I didn’t clip out as many cyclists did.  I hit the top like a champ and enjoyed the long set of rolling hills around the top of the mountain, gazing out over all of the bay and ocean.  There is NOTHING in the world like miles 7-9 of this course.  NOTHING.  I wanted a helmet cam!

On my 2^nd trip up the monsterous hill, a bunch of stronger riders and I made the most of it by cracking jokes and giving each other grief about whining – as hard as that hill was the second time, I certainly enjoyed it a lot more.  I was passing cyclist after cyclist, watching many clip out and almost fall over.  All I could think was, “it’s a LONG friggin’ walk to the top!” 

As I came into transition with my bike, again it seemed like a HUGE distance to my spot.  Once I got there, I slammed on my shoes, downed another gel and gulped a huge amount of water.  I had consumed a ton of water and electrolyte on the bike, as well.  It was so hot and I was losing a lot of sweat.  I knew I needed to stay hydrated. 

I felt fine on the run until turning around and heading straight into the sun.  The sweat was pouring off me and I was incredibly thirsty.  I got to the first water stop and grabbed two cups – one I poured on my head and the other I drank.  Never have I needed water so soon into the run – but I needed it and it looked like everyone else did too.

As I headed out of the sun, again, I felt fine – pushing well into mile 3 or 4 with strength.  I saw Kris at mile 3 and yelled, “hey Kris, guess what? There’s beer in 3 miles.”  I could hear everyone around her laughing – and it really upped my spirits for a bit!  But then I turned into the sun again and my discomfort level soared.  I walked and ran for the next 1.5 miles, through the water stops and around the bend until I was out of the direct sun again – and then I crossed the finish line hearing my name over the loud speaker. 

About to Cross the Finish Line

My time – 3:12.  Slower than last year by 7 minutes.  That’s huge in race times.  I really lost it on the run, but honestly, for the first time I didn’t mind.  I had such a good time on the course, I didn’t think about the fact that my times would be less than great.  I just resolved to continue to enjoy the course – and I did.  It was hotter than last year and more humid, but really, I had a good time.  I’ll work on a few things, but I am not going to beat myself up this time.  I loved every minute of it – even the hot sun portions. 

I saw Justin and Dan at the finish line.  Dan passed me at mile 4 of the run – so we were not very far apart.  Justin did really well 2:32!  Amazing.  Erin crossed the finish line 14 minutes faster than her time 2 years ago, 3:27.  It was a good day for all.  Turns out their friends who did the relay took first place with 2:42.  Amazing!

Mer, Justin and Jesse (runner in the relay)

Then we all went for lunch and drinks at Stone Brewery.  It was really a wonderful race and with an amazing group of people.  I loved it and hope we all do it again, next year!

Oh...and the beach after, of course!

Worst Phoenix Heat - EVER!

I am sure that all of my endurance friends would agree – this week was one of the toughest weeks ever for training in Phoenix.  Temps and humidity levels sky-rocketed and there was no way out of it.  In hindsight, I should have made much better use of my gym membership, this week, as I was miserable on just about every outing.

Monday, naturally, I swam.  I had a great swim in my Masters class the weekend, prior, but I didn’t quite measure up alone on Monday morning.  I guess there really is something to having “Intimidating-Dan” in the lane with me.  That being said, I was still comfortable pulling out 1500 meters and feeling ready for San Diego when done.

Tuesday morning, I hit the streets of my neighborhood for a 6 mile run.  It was hot and it was humid, but it wasn’t so bad that it prevented me from pulling times I can be ok with at this time of the year – Overall Pace = 9:27. 

Wednesday morning, although still very hot and humid, I felt ready for my last hill ride before tapering for the Triathlon.  As soon as I left my house, something wasn’t right.  I was barely pulling 10-12 mph without feeling horribly winded.  So, about 3 minutes into the ride, I clipped out of my pedals to investigate my wheels and brake-pads.  Once, early into a ride, Matt discovered that I was dragging slightly on the brake-pad and therefore struggling to keep a simple pace.  As luck would have it, it was the same this time around, so I knew what to look for -- my front brake had likely adjusted itself the last time I pulled my bike out of my car; so after a moment of tweeking it, I was back on the road pulling numbers I could live with. 

Everything was working nicely – my bike, my lungs, my legs.  However, of course, I found myself stopping at every stopsign and stoplight on this trip – and there are easily a dozen over the 18 mile ride.  I really felt like I could have pulled a personal record (again), but with all the slowing and stopping and starting again, I missed doing so by .1 mph.  Disappointing, but as I always say – I’ll get her next time!

I met Matt for a 5 mile trail run on the Desert Classic, Thursday morning.  It was pretty dark when we started, so we walked to the beginning of the trail before getting our serious-run on.  2.5 miles out, 2.5 miles back.  Its my favorite thing in the world, but it’s so much harder in 86 degrees with 65% humidity.  We struggled.  I could hear Matt’s labored breathing behind me, as we reached the top of each ascent and I knew he could hear mine, as well.  Matt really struggled in those last couple of miles, but I felt pretty strong, despite the heat.  He thanked me in the end for pulling him through the misery.  I could only tell him how much more often the roles were reversed, so I was happy to be the one on the “giving end” this time around.

Friday morning, Matt and I happened to be doing similar rides (since I am not trying to kill myself for this last week or so of training).  So, we headed out Pecos Rd on our Road Bikes for 20 miles – chatting and arguing about work.  I think the real problem when we don’t go out hard is we find time to complain to one another about work – it usually irritates the other enough to get them to push harder and faster.  Friday was no different.  I bitched about one of his key areas of responsibility – and off he went.  Fortunately, he let off around mile 8 and we were able to laugh about it, later.  (Note to self – never blame Matt for the college’s lack of forward progress – he’ll only annihilate me on the bike, later.)

Saturday morning, I headed out for a 10 mile run in quite possibly the worst conditions EVER in Phoenix – at least it felt that way.  80% humidity, 81 degrees – or something like that.  Matt and I met, but we didn’t run together because by mile three I wanted to quit and I was fairly honest about it.  He carried on in front of me and I suffered through the next 7 miles, miserable and wondering if I will ever be able to complete another full marathon.  Serious doubts about my running filled my head.  A ten mile run should be NOTHING for me.  I can do that for breakfast and continue on to something else.  But not Saturday.  Fortunately, Matt told me, when I met him at the end, that he was fairly defeated by mile 6 or 8 and shuffled his way to the finish line, as well.  I would have loved it to have only been 2-3 miles of misery.  There is nothing like being inside the head of someone running 7 miles wishing it was all over.  I did make it to the end, but not without a lot of suffering. 

I was soaked.  My hair was saturated through.  My clothes adhered to my body like a leotard 10 sizes too small.  But I finished.  It was the ugliest finish, ever, but I finished.  May there be no more runs like that one again…in my life.

And, the reason I ran on Saturday instead of Sunday.  I met a couple of my Masters Swim classmates for an Open Water swim: Ashley and Alec.  We left the valley around 6am and were at Bartlett Lake’s swimming area by 7:15am.  The drive is stunning, as the lake is situated between several gorgeous mountain ranges.  Not to mention all the rains in the area had made the mountains lush.

As we got out of the car and made our way down to the beach – something was off.  I remembered a beach and there was none.  I remembered trudging through deep sand for a good 2-300 feet before reaching the water (from the parking area).  There was no beach, no sand. 

I stopped a woman and her son walking out to the end of a pier (a pier I didn’t remember, either) and asked them where the swimming area was.  The young boy said, “I saw some people training out here between the buoys last weekend.”  So, I then asked about the pier, and the woman commented that it was new.  Still puzzled I said, “I clearly remember a beach, though.”  Then I learned that the lake was so high, it covered the entire beach.  Instead, the water met the grass just beyond the parking and picnic area. 

Relieved, the three of us made our way along the water line and set our gear down.  I explained that we swam out to the buoys and then across the lake, passing buoy after buoy.  So we swam. 

Ashley and I are pretty equivalent swimmers.  We were neck and neck in our Masters drills and we were trading off leads this morning, too.  She was super smart to wear a neon green swim cap in the lake – I could spot her the entirety of the swim.  I am sure my dark blue cap did no one any favors. 

But, the water was nice and after several hundred meters all 3 of us were comfortable enough to do our own thing – checking in with each other at each end of the lake.  And after about 50 minutes, we were back at what should have been the beach,a sitting in the water, enjoying the fact that we weren’t running or cycling in the extreme heat of Phoenix.  I think its exactly what we all needed to feel better about our upcoming triathlons. 

Bartett Lake - peaceful

Ashley and Me - pre-swim

Alec finishing up, with Ashley in the foreground. 

All happy and done!

And, so the San Diego Tri Classic is 6 days away.  The next blog will likely detail that adventure.  Were it not for the miserable heat this week, I would joyously say “I feel ready.”  Instead, I will end with, “I am pretty sure I am ready.”

2 Week 'Til San Diego!

As the San Diego Tri Classic gets closer, I am getting more and more anxious to see how I have improved over the last year.  I actually haven’t done an Olympic Tri since last year’s Tri Classic, but with all of the changes to my workout routine in the last year, I am feeling confident I will improve. 

A large piece of that improvement has been my swim – this time last year I still struggled with decent form.  I would get out the pool each day and stare at some of the elite athletes who glided with ease through the water.  I am happy with how things have changed for me – my Monday morning swim was a solid effort and I enjoyed the feeling of simply being able to push out 1500 meters without any issues or need for stopping.  I did disappoint myself by forgetting to grab my watch before heading off to the pool – but the pool clock managed to do the trick.  It took me 36:07 to complete the 1500 meters – which is still about 3 minutes faster than this time last year.

Tuesday morning was over 90 degrees.  I tried to convince myself, during the first mile, that I was fine – the heat was not a big deal.  However, as I started my ascent into the foothills around mile 2, I just wanted it all over.  I still managed to pull a 9:29 overall pace, but I won’t say it didn’t take every morsel of energy in my body to finish the silly, short run.

Wednesday morning was even a few degrees hotter.  My weather app told me 92 degrees with nary a breeze.  As I headed out and into the Foothills, I was dripping with sweat.  My speed was ok, but hitting the hills left me wanting to cry.  I took a slightly different route to capture my 18 miles – avoiding one of the toughest hills.  I was definitely disappointed in myself, but I knew I didn’t have it in me – in the heat – to get to the top, so bailing was the only answer.  I’ll get it next week – no worries.

Thursday morning, as always, the trails were calling.  The news reported a possible drop in temps, but as I stood outside my car before heading into the hilly darkness, it was still clearly as brutal as ever.  Matt took off and I was shortly behind him for the majority of the run.  Around mile 3.5 I caught up to him walking a bit of elevation.  I was actually relieved to see him walking – but convinced him a tenth or so later to run the lovely descent.  It was not our best 5 mile trail run, given the heat, but we gave it what we could.  There will be plenty of cool days to allow us redemption.  This was just not the week.

Friday morning I planned a slightly longer ride out Pecos and back and hoped Matt might join me.  We’d been giving each other crap all week about who was really faster on the route, so I thought perhaps I’d see him on Friday morning to give our theories a whirl. 

At 5am, we took off and immediately hit a head-wind.  It wasn’t super strong, but it was enough that we both knew we’d have no personal record and we’d be working pretty hard just to keep a 17-18 mph pace.  We came around to the end of Pecos and began to head back – which takes us through a gradual uphill climb for about 4 miles.  After fighting the headwind, we were both pretty spent and were simply taking it easy up the hill.  Not a mile in, two women pulled out in front of us from a side street – seeing us they stepped it up to remain in front.  Then, moments after that, Matt and I heard, “I’m on your left,” as a large guy in a yellow jersey swept past us. 

Twisting my lips, I gave Matt a hard stare.  This was not acceptable.  We knew we were better than this – people in front of us, people passing us.  Meh.  Without a word, we both upped the ante, and got closer to the (now) three some.  They were approaching one of the easier hills, but seemed to all struggle.  That was all we needed, as we made our way around them, with ease.    Looking at our bike clocks, we were moving uphill at 19-20 mph and smiling.  Still no word spoken.  Matt and I could both feel the headlight of one (or more) of the riders behind us – relatively close behind us.  But we carried on, silent.  Our pace increased and the light remained poised between us from behind.  As we hit the hardest hill, Matt and I worked harder than we’d ever done before.  We remained consistent, not dropping below about 17.5 mph on our way up.  It was hard, but incredibly satisfying, and we never let off. 

As we began the short descent, we began to laugh.  We knew we’d left most of them in our dust, but the light behind us remained – and the rider was silent, never attempting to pass us, probably just happy to coast along on our wheels.  We paced ourselves out the flat section of Pecos around 19-20 mph – still a solid effort, but we were no longer killing ourselves.  It was evident that the cyclist behind us was happy right where they were. 

At the end of Pecos Rd, we took a right turn to get a few extra miles on the reservation, when we both turned around to see which rider managed to hang with us for the 5+ miles of hills.  We were astounded.  I am sure we were both positive it was the big guy in the yellow jersey, but nope – it was one of the two women.  We were so impressed. 

At the end of the ride, I thanked Matt for one of the best rides we’d ever shared, and threw my running shoes on for another 3 mile run.  Running off the bike each week has really helped me.  I am feeling pretty good about it and happy I committed to doing it each and every week for the last several. 

It was still warm on Friday morning, but the energy from the ride, sustained me for the whole run and I put forth a solid effort.  Here’s hoping all this work pays off in a couple of weeks.

Saturday morning I awakened after sleeping for nearly 9 hours and headed to the gym for Masters Swim.  Diane questioned my upcoming tri and told me to simply swim – hard – for an hour.  I wasn’t sure what that meant, but I got in the pool and just started to swim.  Ten minutes into my routine, Dan arrived (my nemesis) and was told to share a lane with me.  Oh, god, I was mortified.  He’s so incredibly intimidating, as he laps me after a couple hundred meters.  We managed to stay pretty clear of each other for most of the swim, only smacking fists, once. 

After about 30 minutes, I popped up to check my watch to see how far I’d gone.  I stopped my watch, swiftly removed my goggles and glanced at the time and pace.  “Meredith, what are you doing?” I hear.  It was Diane.  “Checking my distance,” I snapped.  She smiled, “And??”  “1300,” I told her.  “Good, get back in there and finish her up!”

What Diane didn’t see was the smile – it was the fastest I’d ever done 1300 meters.  As I continued, I desperately wanted to check my time at 1500 meters.  I did so very quickly and went right back to swimming alongside Mr. Fabulous.  “35:25!” I repeated it in my head over and over and over, as I pushed out another 500 meters to complete my session.  35:25 is the fastest I have ever done 1500 meters in the pool.  I know everyone saw my excitement as I left Masters Swim.  And, sadly, I know I have Dan to thank.  He intimidates me enough that I work a lot harder while sharing a lane with him.  So, it all works out in the end.

This morning I thought a few of us were meeting at South Mountain park for Silent Sunday.  Aaron said that he and Joe were going to ride – Matt and I needed to run 8 miles.  We never saw anyone else, but the forecast was for lots of rain – and I am sure the guys were not interested in descending the Summit Rd on slick pavement.  So, it was just Matt and me for the run.

Matt took off right away and I kept him in my sights for a solid 2 miles before he disappeared into the hills and the turns of San Juan Road.  The first two miles were uphill and I admit, there was no way I could keep up with him – it was hard enough staying motivated to run.  Some sections are pretty steep, but its really all up for a full two miles.  Then it eases off for the next 2 miles, with rolling hills – but its mostly down.  This provided me a break from the awful, heavy leg feeling I was having.  At mile 3.85, I saw Matt coming back – it was motivating to know he was only 3/10^ths of a mile in front of me, but I was sure that would all change, as I made my way back up the rollers.

It did.  I had to walk some of the hills.  I was tired, wet and overheated.  As I crested mile 6, however, I was thrilled to be on the descent and kept a solid pace all the way back to the parking lot.  Matt, of course, waited for me – but the sap had to wait 9 minutes.  He took that course like a champ.  One day I hope to be like Matt (on the run… I mean, ‘cause I hope to be like Dan in the swim)!

When it was all said and done we were soaked from the humidity and the slight drizzle that kept us company for most of the run.  We didn’t even hug each other – it was a mere fist bump.  We were simply too disgusting for words. 

I have one more week of decent efforts – then I taper for race day.  I can’t wait!!!

Oh, here are some shots from other runners who completed their 8 milers, today too!!  So proud of everyone for checking in and letting me know they managed – even in the rain and the heat!  

Miss Anne

Miss Hannah

Well done, Hannah, Anne and Matt!!

Mental Fortitude is the name of the game!

Suffice it to say, this blog almost didn’t happen today – but I have good friends to credit for keeping my head in the game, today and every day. 

After a weekend of hard workouts, I got in the pool on Monday morning, as I have done for the last several Mondays, hoping for even better times in the pool.  Months ago I was averaging right around 2:35/100 meters.  In Triathlete language – “super slow.”  I am proud to say that I am much closer to 2:15 these days and it feels pretty good.  Its still pretty slow to some, but given that I really only learned to swim correctly over this past 18 months, I am pleased with the changes in my times.

I could say the same about my running – however, the Arizona heat really hit us hard this week.  I tell everyone, “just focus on the miles; the times will follow suit in another couple of months.”  But, I have a really hard time allowing that to be my reality.  I know I can pull sub-9’s, but I am hovering around 9:15-9:20/mile in this dreaded heat.  That’s precisely where I was on Tuesday morning’s short 4.5 miler.

Wednesday, I hit my tough hill route through the Foothills and managed another Personal Record on the course – 1:00:20 with an AVS of 18.5. 

Thursday morning, Matt met me for a short trail run.  We both felt pretty good for the first mile, but the temps hit us hard after the second mile and we turned around to head back to the trailhead.  It wasn’t worth the misery.  About 3.25 miles into the run, I asked if we could just hike it back and Matt said, “Come on, at this point, we might as well endure and just finish.”  He pulled away from me and, once again, it pissed me off enough to continue running – to the end, of course. 

Friday morning, I headed out Pecos Road on my bike and hit another Personal Record over the 16 mile route – 19.1 AVS.  I was ecstatic.  It made for a pretty enjoyable 2.65 mile run right after, as well.  My legs are feeling ready for the tri in another 3 weeks. 

The Saturday before the semester starts, the Student Services of the college are open for students who need last minute changes (to their schedule, their payment plans, their financial aid, etc).  Knowing I had to be into the office by 8:30am, I awakened at 3:30am to do sprint drills in the pool and then meet David for a 35 mile ride out to Maricopa and back.  Sadly, David got a flat only 6 miles into the ride, and while I was able to get his tire all fixed up – I didn’t get enough air into his tube to sustain him for much more than another 10, comfortably.  It was my fault, sadly.  If we’d had another cartridge of air, we would have been fine, but we did not.  So, we turned around and took it easy back to the Park ‘n Ride.  Lesson learned.  It was still nice to be out on the roads after my swim.

After a long day at work, I took it easy Saturday evening.  But, sadly, I tossed and turned all night long.  Getting 20 minutes of sleep here, 10 minutes there – all night long.  I might have clocked a full hour over the course of the 7.5 hours I was in bed.  So, when my alarm went off at 4:20, telling me to get up and head out, I was physically sick. 

I fumbled around for a bit, trying to drink coffee and put a couple of Gu Chomps in my system, but everything was coming up.  As my mom always said, “If Meredith doesn’t get enough sleep – she will get sick.”  This was simple a testimony to that reality.

But, out the door I went and met Matt at 5am in the Park ‘n Ride for what was going to be the most challenging 9 mile run of my life.  I could tell instantly he felt bad for me.  He knows what its like not to manage a night’s sleep – and how it can wreck you.  On top of all that – it was 86 degrees and 50-60% humidity. 

I explained that he should go ahead and do his thing – that I would finish in time.  But, he’s such a good friend, he wasn’t having it.  I was pretty silent for the first 3 miles of the run – trying very hard not to get sick again.  Matt was chattier than I could remember.  I focused on his stories – and fortunately, he was full of them.  By mile 3.5, I needed water and a walk break.  Matt continued running and then came back and got me a moment or two later.  I started up again, but wanted to stop again, just before mile 4.  It was then that he had a heart to heart with me about where I was mentally.  He told me that I could continue to beat myself up over the lack of sleep, I could continue on and fight through it, or I could walk and hate myself. 

It worked; I smiled and committed to finishing.  The next few miles were actually fine.  Miles 7-9 were again not all that pretty, but for no sleep, the hot temps and humidity and a general feeling of sickness, I managed to eek it out with a 10:18 pace, overall.  I am not going to kill myself over my times – I know I am MUCH better than that pace, but I got the miles on my legs and felt so accomplished after.   However, I really have Matt to thank for this morning.  He stuck by my side and got me to finish.  I guess he realized that if I made it to the Park ‘n Ride after no sleep – I needed to get ‘er done.

The great part – shortly after, I got to then head to Chompies and wait for Anne to finish her 9 mile run.  About 15 minutes after I arrived, she was smiling and coming around the corner of the shopping plaza.  She’d had a tough run, too.  But we all made it!

Tucson Training Begins (SD Tri Classic Training Continues...)

I only have a short period of time to blog, this morning, as I am headed to Sedona for the afternoon to get in a hike and some craft beer.  So, forgive the brevity.

This week, of course, marked the beginning of Tucson Marathon training for several of my friends, colleagues and me.  The great thing about training “together” is that we hold one another accountable for all of our runs.  We all have the same schedules and mostly the same workouts – so its enjoyable to be able to say “how was the trail, this morning?” or “it was hot on the run, no?”  I just hope we all show up at the starting line in another 17 weeks!

Speaking of training, I chatted with my best friend, Anne, yesterday, about the importance of sleep in endurance sports.  I find that I sleep a lot more when in training for a big race.  With the San Diego Tri Classic a mere 4 weeks away, and marathon training beginning in the midst of it – my body craves 7-8 hours of sleep every night, and a 1-2 hour nap in the middle of the day.  Sleep means muscle repair.  And, since all of my training buddies read my blog (or should), let this be your warning – make time for rest and solid sleep.  You will notice the difference in your runs if you do.

Anyway – onto a picture montage:

So, Monday I did a lovely 1500 meter swim.  The work I am doing each weekend in Masters Swim is paying off.  I hit my best time for 1500 meters by over 2 minutes on Monday.  I nearly squealed from excitement when I popped up in my lane and saw my time. 

Tuesday, I hit the streets for a 4.5 mile run.  It was hot and humid – and I was really done after 3 miles.  I managed to push the whole thing out, but it wasn’t pretty.

Wednesday, the weather was similar to the day before, but I still managed to pull out an excellent ride through the foothills.  This is the 18-19 mile route that has a couple of killer hills.  My best time is 1:01:13 with an AVS of 18.3 – Wednesday I hit 1:01:14 – with an AVS of 18.2.  I think I’ll be able to beat my best time, soon. 

Oh, Marathon Training buddy, DSMitch, invited me to the ballgame that night, too!

Thursday, I hit the Desert Classic Trail for 5 miles.  It was cooler than it had been in months, for some reason, and the sun was stunning as it rose over South Mountain.  I saw no one on the trail for over 4 miles of my run – so it was just me and nature for some time.  I was in heaven.

The beginning (or end in this case) of the Desert Classic.

Friday morning I met Matt for a ride out Pecos and back.  I can only say that the two of us bicker like siblings when one of us attempts to pull ahead or play challenging games on the bike.  I accused Matt of trying to psychologically break me – as I thought he was going too slow on one of the bigger hills, so I backed off a bit, only to have him sail in front of me, as soon as I let off.  Its like he knew that was the only way he’d kick my ass.  And, he did.  But, he got an earful after he hit the top.  Jackass.

See how he mocks my blog shots!  Jackass.

And...take 2.

After finishing the ride, I threw my running shoes on for a 2.5 mile run through the neighborhood and back to my car.  I pulled a 9:03 pace for the run – as the temps were again in our favor that morning.  It was a really great way to start the day.

Sweaty, accomplished mess!

Yesterday I endured Masters Swim, again.  Coach Diane asked what I wanted to work on when I chose my lane.  “Speed work!” I announced.  “Ok,” she said, “start with 200 meters of warm up.  Then, I want 25 meters super fast, 25 meters slow – and just keep doing it; no stopping until I say.”  1000 meters later, I was pooped.  Once she stopped me, she told me that I had to work on my breast stroke for the next 20 minutes.  It’s still a disaster for me.  I worked and worked and worked.  Diane corrected me and corrected me and corrected me.  Finally, with 10 minutes left of class, she said, “Meredith – I want two kicks and one breath, 2 kicks and 1 breath.”  And, then it clicked.  I got it.  I understood the stroke – suddenly it all made perfect sense.  I was thrilled.  Once it looked good, Diane said, “Ok, 200 meters of whatever you want to cool down.” And, I was off to do my comfortable freestyle until the end. 

And then this morning I did my first “long” run of marathon training.  8 miles.  Dennis and I planned the route on Friday night after work.  It was super hilly and ended at his house.  The nice part – at 6:45am, I walked through the fence to his backyard, and there was Dennis with his feet in his pool waiting for me to complete my run.  So, we hopped in the pool, swam around for a bit and then went to breakfast – ‘cause I was not going to be pleasant for much longer had we not. 

Dennis in his pool -- moments before I hopped in!

And now… I am off to head north.  More next week!

Nothing special - but good workouts!

I have been tossing around the idea of blogging on a more daily basis because sitting down and carving out time each Sunday is becoming more and more difficult.  I’m not sure why it is that I feel like I have less time to chunk these things out – but it is what it is. 

Last Sunday was Silent Sunday and I managed to get a group together to take on the big mountain at 5:30 in the morning.  David and Chauncy, who had just joined Matt and me on a 35 mile ride a couple of days prior, were both game to get in some hill work.  Considering the fact that they had just relocated from the San Francisco area, South Mountain’s Summit must look like a walk in the park to them.  Josh and Aaron came out for the workout, as well.

The struggle to the top got me again, in the 90 degree heat, as I had to very briefly hop off my bike instead of toppling over at one point.  But, with only a few paces on foot, I managed to complete the ride only to see Aaron waiting for me at the very top.  I saw David coming down as I nearly summited, so I knew he managed to hit the top, first.  A couple minutes after I hit the top, Josh joined us and nearly vomited on his cleats doing so.  We never saw Chauncy – but we later learned he simply turned around when he saw David coming down. 

At the Summit -- Josh (L) and Aaron (R)

Josh, Aaron and I flew down the mountain and headed out San Juan Road for another 10 miles of less difficult hills.  The hills are there, and we of course hate them after already having climbed the Summit, but they are absolutely manageable.

All in all it was about a 25 mile ride of incredible work. 

So, Monday I took it easy and practiced what I had learned in my Masters Swim class a couple days prior.  I am so pleased with how changing my form so slightly has cut so much time off my swim.  1500 or so meters later, I felt accomplished and nearly ready for my next tri.

Monday afternoon I got the exciting news that my former running buddy, Cat, would be flying in from Florida in December to run the Tucson Marathon.  It inspired me so much (since I am also doing Tucson) that I took our old 6 mile route on Tuesday morning just to be able to think about how much I enjoyed running with her!  Its so hot here, right now, so my 9:25 pace is just something I am going to have to be ok with --- for now.

Wednesday morning I headed into the Foothills for my 18 mile hill ride.  The San Diego Tri Classic has a substantial hill so I am ensuring I have NO problem conquering it again this year.  92 degrees at 5am when I started, but I was pleased with how comfortable I felt doing the hill work.  The Silent Sunday work was definitely paying off.

Thursday morning I hit the trails for 5 miles – just because I love it so much.  The heat makes it harder, but nothing beats hitting the saddle and staring at the sunrise.  Nothing.  I only wish this picture did it justice.  Alas.

Matt and I had the same plan for Friday and met up for a nice ride out Pecos Rd and back.  While getting ready at the Park ‘n Ride (before Matt joined), I saw a group of riders about to start their ride out Pecos.  They were all wearing Camelbak watering systems for hydration, instead of relying on acceptable water bottles in cages on their frames.  This is really incorrect – and looks absurd, since they have cages for their water bottles, as well.  They headed out of the Park ‘n Ride a minute or two before we did and had a ½ mile lead on us at the start. 

Its simply amazing how neither Matt or I have to say anything to one another about our desire to make mincemeat of other riders.  With a fast grin, we were off, passing the four of them with little to no difficulty.  But shortly after we passed them, we could feel something/someone latching on to our wheels.  Astonished, Matt looked at me and said, “Did they grab our wheels without asking or announcing?”  This is a HUGE no-no in the cycling world.  What if one of us came to an abrupt stop or needed to swiftly move over – they could very well hit us or make us go down.  We spoke loudly about how unacceptable their behavior was, and with another swift grin, we both punched out speeds we knew would annihilate them.  And, they were left – far far behind.

It was a fun ride and I hit the hills with an ease I have never had before. 

Saturday morning I faced my Master Swim class again and Coach-Diane had us working on our form before making the 7 of us compete against one another for the last 25 minutes of class.  We started with 25 meter races, then 50 – and finally she made us race using our weakest strokes.  I shared a lane with a gal named, Ashley.  She and I were neck and neck with every drill.  It was nice to have someone who really pushed me in the very same lane.  Yeah, we knocked elbows and knees, occasionally, but we both admitted we got more out of that class than any other.  I learned that she’s a runner, as well – similar pace to mine.  So, we exchanged numbers after class to work on sprint drills on the ground, one of these days.

And then this morning I met Aaron, Joe, David and Matt for a ride around South Mountain.  I’ll admit, adding someone new into the training mix is always hard, but I think we really got our groove after about 15-20 miles.  David is a super strong endurance athlete – that is clear, but he is learning the ropes of being a team-rider.  I had to remind him that we were keeping a 21-22 mph pace several times, and to check to make sure he hadn’t dropped anyone when he was in the lead.  Because he doesn’t have a bike clock, it simply made it a lot tougher for him to manage.  But, once we learned to call things out to him, he fit right in.  Unfortunately, being behind someone without a bike clock can really work/tire your legs.  They constantly go up and down and it’s a lot more work for those of us directly behind him.  I think he may show up with a bike clock for the next major ride (smiling)!

The ride was great.  I was pleased with my work – save a few miles on the front side of the mountain.  But, all in all, I think everyone held their own.

L-R: Aaron, Joe, Mer, Matt and David

Right after the ride, I put my running shoes on and did a 2.5 mile run around the neighborhood close to the Park ‘n Ride.  It was 93 degrees at the start and my legs were wrecked from the ride, but it was good to know I could still get out there, after 43 miles on the bike, and make it happen. 

(Sorry, forgot to take a post run shot – was overwhelmed by the damn heat.)