The Greater Cleveland Tri... Duathlon

OK, first things first: how awesome was the men’s relay last night? I think that if they had swum Saturday night, we would have stormed the water at the Greater Cleveland Triathlon despite the swim being canceled (rough waters).

You can imagine that while I was wholly undertrained for the swim, I was pretty bummed about my best leg being cut from the race. But I did get some duathlon experience in its place. A little notice (or time to practice, a few months to brick back and forth) might have helped, but what’s a race organizer to do?

So, in lieu of 0.75-mile swim, the Olympic “tri” began with 1.25-mile run out and back above the beachfront. I sucked down some Roctane, Gu’s new endurance snot, when I was warming up and my heart was racing before I even hit the start. Watch that stuff!

Standing still at the start, I had some nerves, but the excess caffeine and stuff kicked up my HR to 199! The ill effects dorked up my breathing and actually made me feel a little fatigued before I took my first step. It didn’t really subside until about three miles into the bike. So much for that stuff!

I’m happy to report, however, that my opening run was A-OK. Lucky for me, I found Jen before the start, and she knew our first-run distance. (Jen’s not only a great athlete; she knows everything! And man was she flying when she passed me on the bike!) Otherwise, I was just going to follow the pack until I happened upon my bike in transition.

Because I’d never done a duathlon, I didn’t really know how to take the run. It was only 1.25 miles, so could I run it fast? Should I?

A little over a mile? I can hoof that! So, for the first half I did: 4:00 at halfway point (6:24/mile). It was pretty windy and my sweatshirt ballooned and dragged like a parachute. Lovely. Then it dawned on me that I, umm, still had to ride my bike farther than I’ve ever ridden and then run again! Ahh, duathlon.

I put it on cruise for the second half and finished in 8:11 (6:32/mile).

Surprisingly, I felt all right after the run (it was only 1.25 miles) and only a little weird hopping on the bike. Maybe the first 6+ miles were all settling into bricking this way? But it took about the first ten miles for me to stop convincing myself that, OK, that feels like a flat tire or, no, that feels like my tires are low. (Don’t you love paranoia?)

In case you’re unfamiliar with the GCT Olympic bike route, it looks something like this:

Don’t let it fool you, though. That (insert expletive) is uphill both ways!

Nevertheless, the ride gave me plenty of hill-training I haven’t done since the new-bike era, and by mile 12 I was still on pace to meet my 93:00 goal.

Enter the bump in the road.

On the way plus side, I took my first aid station on the bike (I’m not comfortable yet riding without both white-knuckled hands on the bars) and sprayed Gatorade like a geyser so high the whole station cheered my spectacle.

The not-so-good side: a girl crashed on her bike and totally destroyed her bike chain right in front of me. I stopped to make sure she was OK, and even tried to apply my bicycle naivete to her chain. Poor gal: I think we were somewhere between miles 12 and 14.

Once she started back for the last aid station, I turned around to, you guessed it, one big mama hill. The Kirtland Hills hill that climbs like 500 feet in a quarter mile. And I was at a dead stop. I mounted my bike and tried to push off, but only rolled back. Looking around me, every single person had dismounted and walked to the top. So, I succumbed.

Now I was a 5-6 minutes back and tried to pedal hard to catch up to my goal self. I played passing games with several people and totally wimped out on the major downhill speed opportunities on the road back (I admit it, I brake until my bike squeals going down big hills!).

The wind managed to be in my face the whole ride, but my favorite moment came as I sped down the final stretch. Last year, I remembered passing the “Your Speed Is” radar machine on Heisley Road. I was proudly rolling at 20 mph; a guy on a tri bike flew by over 45 mph.

I knew it was coming about a half-mile out, so I started pedaling hard in whatever my highest gear and hit the downhill at a considerable clip. The two people before me passed the machine. 35 mph, 38 mph. And when I passed? 42 mph. What a difference a bike makes.

Somewhere I picked up a couple minutes and finished in 1:30:52 (15.75 mph). Not bad for my longest ride, complete with stop, help and walk! Oh yeah, and the freakin’ mega hills too.

Let it not be a secret I was pretty tired at T2, and just not happy that I had to run. Again! Didn't I already cross that off my to-do list?

It was pretty slow going at first: my legs were pretty tight for mile one, which I finished around 10:00. And I was just getting warm before mile two when my GI tract got a little unhappy. I walked a few minutes to settle that down, and I was really warmed by how many people ran by and cheered me on to just keep going. Oh, little did they know... hee hee.

It took about 15:00 to complete mile two, but as I crossed into the second half of the race at 37:00, I was feeling all right with no ill effects on my digestive system. I stopped paying attention to time, but can deduce that it took me 37:00 for the first 5K (11:54/mile) and 25:00 for the second (8:02/mile) for a final run time of 1:02:03. At least I finished strong.

Swim or no swim, it was a fun day at the races. I finished in 2:44:30, ate a hot dog and feasted on raspberry-filled cookies from Corbo’s after I showered and changed at home. Not only was I pleased to finish the unexpected race, but I was amazed that I could smell just as bad running-biking-running as I did when I swam in the lake too!

Having the swim cancelled was a lot like have your flight canceled for weather. You realize it’s unsafe to go and that the people making that decision know much better than your own meathead, but you’re still a little disappointed and wish there were something you could do. But there’s not.

So why not have a swell time of it? Not only did I get to spy Jen at least once each leg of the race, I crossed Papa Louie during the 10K and caught scores of other athletes I’ve known within and outside the blogosphere. Congrats to TriGuyJT and all the chicas who ran the half, and big high fives to all!

Particularly to my mom and Neil, who were kind enough to wake up before dawn to cheer me on, keep me going, and still love me when I smelled that bad. I'll have to share a photo of how cute Neil looks in my GCT tech tee. It fits him perfectly.

Calling All Olympians!

Remember when it used to be bright and sunny at 6 a.m.? It was so easy all summer to fly out of bed and hit the street before work. What’s with all this early morning dark?

Fall, my friend, is upon us. But not before we squeeze in a few triathlons.

And having run about ten miles each week since being sick, not biked at all and merely dipped in the pool six (count ‘em: 1-2-3-4-5-6!) times this year, I’d say it’s high time for my first Olympic triathlon, eh? Ahh, nothing like cramming.

It’s not all for naught: I have some serious garden action going on (butternut squash, orange sun peppers, two tomato varieties and herbs o’plenty) and a landscaped front yard to show for the summer. I wonder how building a retaining wall will fuel my run at the Greater Cleveland Triathlon (join us: late registration on Saturday) on Sunday…

Two weeks ago I was all about feeling sorry for the sad state of my training. I even considered skipping this race or just downgrading to sprint. But I don’t doubt I can finish an Oly tri. Sure, I’ve never ridden my bike for 24 straight miles, and I’ve only bricked twice this summer, and, yeah, that whole not swimming much at all point.

My solution: have a good time. I’ve gotten away this year from digging race day. You know: you under-train, you’re unprepared and you can’t expect your best performance. No pain, no gain, right? Race after race, though, it just wears on you.

At least I have my garden.

And what better weekend to race my first Olympic triathlon? If you haven’t heard, I’m a total Olympic junkie. The mere THOUGHT of Dara Torres gives me chills; the SIGHT of Michael Phelps makes me giddy. Let the fun/games begin!

So, why not do an Olympic tri this weekend? Good weather, good health, good spirits. All I need is to have one good time.

The Official Race Report (a.k.a. My First Tri)

Somehow I managed to sleep well on Saturday night and woke up ready to go on Sunday at 5 a.m. After I zipped on my tri-suit, I triple-checked that I didn’t forget anything (but I did) and headed out to Mentor Headlands. (My mom was nice enough to join me at that ungodly hour… and I think I might have collapsed of nerves and loneliness if she hadn’t. Thanks mom!)

We made it to the race location around 6 a.m.—plenty of time, I thought, to get my bike together. It generally takes me about 20 minutes and at least 35 new curse words to put on my back tire. But in the early morning darkness of my first triathlon, it went straight on. About 2 seconds flat! Woo hoo! My brakes weren’t as cooperative, but more on that later.

So, I went through the body marking (bib number on my arms, age and tri-race on my calf) and set up my transition area before I headed to the beach to find my starting position. By 6:45 a.m., I was ready to take off. Start time, however, wasn’t until 7:45 a.m. for my age group.

It was pretty cool on Sunday morning—it couldn’t have been more than 70 degrees outside—and I was a little, umm, concerned about hopping in the water. We all know what a wimp I am about water temps. But about 30 minutes before start-time, I tipped my toes in the water, which was surprisingly warm. In fact, it was probably a few degrees warmer than the air. Whew!

Within 10 minutes, I jumped into the water to warm-up a bit. At first I slowly walked into the water and then dived right in. The shock of the cold water and zero visibility of Lake Erie water scared the bejesus out of me. And I started to panic. I haven’t swum in open water/zero visibility in about 20 years, and I worried that I wouldn’t be able to make the half mile. Eek!

But before I knew it, I was standing in the second row of my age groupers and listening to our starter count down the minutes. I felt like I was back at a swim meet again—and that familiarity calmed my nerves a little bit. The crowd (which included my mom, my step-father Philip, Neil, my cousin Natalie and my uncle Ermano—thanks, guys!) gathered around and started cheering for our start. How cool!

I don’t even remember whether the starter said “go!” or “swim!” or if he sounded a horn… I just remember going into this group dive/scramble for the water, and off we went! I got kicked in the face thrice within the first 100 meters and smacked a couple more.

While swallowing and inhaling about 70 gallons of lake water in this stretch, I was able to keep moving, mostly swimming with my head above the water.

Getting used to the zero water visibility kept me in a panic until I reached the first buoy. I was worried about how to make the turn, how to get around people, how not to drown. But the crowd had loosened up and it was time to swim the major straightaway in the race. The biggest challenge: swimming straight.

Let’s just say I swam a little bit off the beaten path. Like into Coast Guard territory. There were a number of boats on the outer edge of the swimming area, and I was right next to them, being waved toward shore. I mean, I was out there… Canadabound! I thought I had been doing a great job spotting the far-end buoy, but I couldn’t quite tell I was zig-zagging until I was way out.

Finally, I reached the second buoy and took the turn. I tried to bury my head and bring it home, but I was still swimming astray. Shore came faster than I expected, however, and I was a little bummed the swimming was over. I wasn't really winded and I kind of wanted to do it again!

Despite swimming farther than necessary, I clocked in at 17:30 for the first leg of my race. Woo hoo! I swam as far up onto the beach as I could and then trekked up the beach, where Jen C. and her husband were part of a much-appreciated volunteer and cheering corps (!), and into the transition area.

My next challenge: getting the sand off my feet. I didn’t really have a strategy for the sand removal, but I was very particular about getting my feet as clean as possible—biking 12 miles and running 3 with glass in my shoes sounded like bad news. So, my first transition was a bit long at 3:26. I figured that since this was my first race, I wanted to take my transitions slowly and make sure I did everything right.

Feet cleaned, helmet strapped, I walked my bike out of the transition area and tried to hop on. Tried. I had forgotten that I raised my bike seat recently because I had apparently been riding about four inches too low. So, as I pushed off into the cycling portion, I started laughing and almost wiped out at the starting line. Ahh, I never claimed I knew how to ride a bike.

The rest of the bike ride was pretty laughable as well. I started out onto OH-44 not yet sure how I had done in the swim. I pedaled up and down some mild hills in Mentor and Grand River, watching as the much more serious-looking cyclists flew by. At one point, we passed a roadside speed radar on which I registered 19 mph (I must have been going downhill!). Just then I could hear another cyclists whizzing toward me; he clocked 40 mph. Wowzaas!

It was about then that I started realizing how ill-prepared I was for the cycling portion. And I started actually laughing to myself that I had a) never ridden my bike 12 miles in one stretch; and b) thought riding my bike to work a few times would actually prepare me for the race. What's more is that my brakes were rubbing against my tires and squeaking at various intervals... and that just made me laugh even harder at myself (at least the tires made it onto the bike!). Nevertheless, it was a beautiful ride and a tough ride for me. I watched as cyclists flew by and tried to get a look at their technique, equipment, pedaling cadence and posture. And I was way off on all of them!

I must have been passed by pretty much everyone in the race, but I realized that I had done well in the swim. It wasn’t until about mile 6, in fact, that I saw a bulk of the sprint racers from my age group zoom by. They were, however, all passing me. So, I tried to stop dilly-dallying and pedaled a little harder to finish the 12-mile bike in 55:57. Just under my goal. Another woo hoo!

My second transition wasn’t as bad as the first. I had pinned my bib onto a t-shirt (I couldn’t swim with the bib and I didn’t want to dare pinning anything on me during a transition), so I threw on a t-shirt and shorts over the tri-suit. It didn’t turn out to be the coolest solution, but only took 1:39 in transition time. I chugged some Gatorade and made my way to the running course.

Many thanks to the Greater Cleveland Triathlon planners: the running course was relatively flat. The last thing I needed in my first triathlon was a St. Malachi/HOF-sized hill at the end of my race to make me cry!

I started off onto the path at a pretty moderate pace, allowing my legs to warm up to the situation (they weren’t quite sure why they were running so soon after cycling). Neil met me about 1/8 mile into the run, cheering me on and running with me for another 1/8. Then I meandered through the park and actually started passing people. My goal was to run about 10:00/mile, but I could tell that my increased adrenaline and pre-race calorie intake made room for a faster pace. I probably ran about 9:30/mile for the first half of the run, and then brought it home in about 8:30/mile.

On the last stretch, I was passing a bunch of people from the international and sprint races and tried to cheer them to the finish. I started picking up my pace, but didn’t run too fast because I was honestly having too much fun! I could hear the hoopla at the finish line and I thought, “I’m actually going to finish a triathlon! I don’t want this to end!”

So, I kept pushing toward the finish, passed my family fans around the bend and saw the end. And again I had finish-line problems! There was a mat about 25 yards in front of a big archway with a clock on it. Visually I thought finish was the archway. Duh, right? But the first mat beeped when you crossed it, people cheered, and the two people in front of me walked the rest of the way. Hmm.

I crossed the first mat, it beeped, and I slowed a bit, but jogged into the archway. And that, as it turned out, was the actual finish. Darn it! I could have cut a few seconds from my time, but who cares? I just finished my first triathlon!

My 5K time was 27:33 (8:52/mile) and my final overall triathlon time was 1:46:04. I headed through the finishing tent, collected my medal and free stuff, and then we ate!

That’s the long and short and long of it. As you might have guessed, I learned more about triathlons than I could have imagined—registration, timing chips, prep time, transition area, open water swimming, cycling with intent, running after cycling—and hope to use all of it in my next race.

But for today, I’m just going to relax and take it all in. Tomorrow, I start my training plan (yes, I actually have a plan!) for the Akron Half Marathon and the Portage Lakes Triathlon. Maybe I’ll learn to cycle for that one ;-)

I'm a Triathlete!

Well, I finally did it: I crossed the finish line at the Greater Cleveland Triathlon—my first—in 1:46:06. About 14 minutes under my goal. Not bad!

It was an early morning, a good swim, a… umm… leisurely bike and a nice run through the park. The final results haven’t been posted. But once I get my hands on those numbers, I’ll provide the full run down.

At least I made it!

Collecting my Energy for Sunday Morning

My only hardworking task today: eating.

I had butternut squash soup and potato-and-alfredo pizza for lunch and gnocchi with baked plums and sweet potatoes for dinner. Mmm... carbolicious, I tell you. And I can feel all that energy gearing up to be unleashed on Sunday morning.

I took a long, slow walk this evening (another cool night) to stretch out my tight right hamstring for 2.5 miles. It started feeling a little tight in the middle of the day, and I’m hoping that the muscle-warming walk and easy stretching will make it chill out. But the walk and stretching will be the extent of my activities for the next day and a quarter.

In the meantime, I’ll occupy myself with triathlon focus. Because the Greater Cleveland Triathlon will be my first, I’m wholly uncertain of what to expect of the race, the course and myself. And since I don’t know, my time goals are the following loose guesstimations (sans transitions… or with transitions mixed in?):

• 1/2-mile swim in 30:00
• 12-mile bike in 1:00:00
• 5K/3.1-mile run in 30:00

It may be too much; it may be too little. According to last year’s results, it’s very middle of the road. And I’m all right with that. So, we dive in at 7 a.m. I’d like to be done by 9 a.m.

Now I just need to work on getting some good sleep!

Last Day Before I Rest

At first I thought that talking to my Dad, who is in Phoenix right now and said it was 109 degrees yesterday, put my mental heat index on ice. But as it turns out, the horrendous storms that passed through NEOhio and the “colder” fronts pushing with them brought the still-humid night to 70 degrees.

I hadn’t even planned on running when I returned home from dinner this evening, but I couldn’t help myself.

My carbohydrating kicked off this evening at Mangiamo!, where I had eggplant with fettuccine for dinner with Neil and Jeff. Tomorrow I’m making room for sweet potato something for lunch and potato gnocchi with baked plums for dinner. On the way home from New York, I read a nutrition article in the latest issue of Runner’s World that detailed the goodness that is potatoes. I’ve been craving them ever since.

Between the pasta, wedding soup, bakery’s worth of bread and a decaf black coffee, I was pretty much filled to the brim at the end of dinner. But when I stepped out of the car and walked toward my apartment, I knew the “cool” evening wasn’t to be resisted. So, I ran inside, topped off my dinner with about half a Think Thin chocolate fudge protein bar (I didn’t have dessert, so I had to, umm, balance my taste buds—hey, it wasn’t a cupcake), changed into running clothes and hit the streets around 8:45 p.m.

It was just another round-the-hood trot, but felt even better, stronger, looser than the last several runs. Was it the shoes? I don’t know. But it really helped my confidence. Yesterday’s swim made me feel all right about the first leg of my race; tonight improved my running outlook. And, well, the cycling portion will be what it is.

I had only intended to run for a short bit (in fact, I felt a bit full and had considered just walking… but these Mizunos just won’t let me!), but stayed out for around 45 minutes and 5.25 miles. My legs and core were a little fatigued from 40 minutes of power vinyasa yoga over lunch, but that soreness seemed to turn into strength and energy as I ran. Ahh, the magic that is yoga.

The only thing that really pushed me inside was the total darkness and threat of mosquitoes/West Nile virus. Plus, we have some nutty drivers around here who probably don’t yield to runners (as I know all too well), and I have a race in three days!

Morning Run, Ninjas and Afternoon Swim

So why didn’t you tell me running in the morning was awesome?

Almost every plan I had for training on Tuesday was thwarted (the pool was packed to the gills and beyond, it started hardcore storming one mile into my evening run), so I focused on weight training last night, had a restful sleep, skipped yoga this morning and took to the neighborhood streets at 6:30 a.m. for a really great run.

And boy was it muggy! I think I live with the blind notion that mornings are almost always cool. Not so. It had to be at least 80 degrees this morning with air so thick with moisture that I felt like I had a sticky film all over me. Yick! It did not, however, affect my run.

Nor did the ninja warrior practicing his nunchucks in the leasing office parking lot. Neil and I first saw Mr. Ninja, a stout and bulky man with a cleanly shaven head, when we dropped off our rent before taking off for New York last Friday morning. He was standing in the parking lot next to his Beethoven-blaring Rav-4 spinning, swinging and switching nunchucks from hand to hand. Since I am obviously the ninja in this relationship, I was the one who got out of the car to hand in the rent.

Oddly enough, Mariel and Eric introduced us to Ninja Warrior—a Japanese physical challenge show that is half Most Extreme Elimination and half superhuman Double Dare obstacle course (without the nose-picking event)—during our Brooklyn trip last weekend. It really has nothing to do with ninjas or warriors, but is one of those shows you catch on a lazy Saturday afternoon and secretly try to find on Sunday when nothing else is on. Not that I’ve ever done that.

But back to my run: I weaved through the parking lot, gave Mr. Ninja a nod and continued to feel great in my new Mizunos. All due respect to my previous life as an ankle-roller, but the greater ankle flexibility I have in these shoes has loosened up my stride and eased the warm-up period that used to burn my shins. What’s more is that my upper body even feels relaxed and my arm swings have finally begun to feel natural. I’m on my way, baby!

My goal for the morning was to run for 30 minutes. It’s not as much time as I would like to dedicate to running, but I a) am trying to rest a bit this week, despite my lazy-training in recent weeks; and b) had to get showered and to work by 8 a.m. Sticking around my neighborhood, however, enabled me to hit some minor hills and a few grades, check out a ninja dude and work on picking up the pace a bit.

I’m only running with a watch these days, so I had to guess my distance during the run and measure for certainty later (one of these days I’ll get back to that HRM). At least I know my times. In fact, my first “lap,” 2.06 miles down my street and around the condo community, went by in 17:55; the second lap, which was an abbreviated 1.3-mile cool down trip around the neighborhood, clocked in at 12:05. My total run was 3.35 miles around 8:57/mile pace.

I realize that while I felt great running today that I can’t quite expect the same miracle of energy from my shoes on Sunday. That whole swimming and cycling first thing might get in the way!

Today’s run left me wanting for water, however, so I skipped lunch and cut out of work early to get a full no-rush swimming workout for the first time in way, way too long. While I’m a strong swimmer, I know that I’m not near peak shape or speed… and I can’t expect to be with my poor excuse for a swim-training regiment of one 30-minute swim each week.

Thus I was surprised at how easily I completed my 4,000-yard workout this afternoon:

• 1,000 yards free warm-up
• 8 x 50 yards “perfect” stroke down, spotting stroke back (:15 rest)
• 3 x 500 yards free (1:00 rest)
• 300 yards one-arm butterfly
• 300 yards reverse IM kick
• 500 yards free cool down

What I call “perfect” stroke is essentially swimming with a correct stroke. In an ideal world I would swim that way all the time. But for this set I focused on every single inch of my stroke—from entry to pull and breathing to follow-through—for the first 25 yards, and then swam with my head above the water on the way back. I imagine that spotting might come in handy while swimming with many other people in open water on something of a “course.” But it gets tiring!

The only problem with today’s regiment: man, was I flippin’ hungry on the drive home! I was just lucky I hadn’t decided to bike to work today because I may have actually eaten my helmet or my cell phone.

For the past several weeks, however, I’ve been trying to pick up more protein than the average electronic and protective device. I’m not really a meat-eater (I’m big on fish), so I’ve been pretty protein-lacking for much of my life. No wonder I’m so short! And while I’m utterly crazy about cheese, I have a natural (read: hereditary) and slight cholesterol almost-problem that prevents me from fulfilling my protein needs with feta, cheddar, gorgonzola, chevre, soft swiss, hard swiss, colby, havarti, smoked gouda, brie… I’m sorry: I just went somewhere else for a minute. And now I need some fresh French bread.

One of the foods I’ve recently used to supplement my training diet is Think bars (i.e., Think Thin, Think Organic, Think Green, etc.), which provide up to 20 grams of protein, have one of those wholly appealing all-natural ingredient lists and are pretty darn dee-lish.

It’s only taken me nearly 30 years to realize that I need protein to grow and repair my body. And I’ll definitely need that protein as I train for the triathlons and road races to come.

Four days to go! Countdown with some Ninja Warrior...