What I Did on my Running Vacation

Like most marked periods of time, I came up with a list of things I wanted to do on my running vacation:

5. Finish my thesis: I didn’t finish the thing, but I did adjust my topic, do plenty of research, change my topic a bit and start narrowing my focus.

4. Convert Undecideds to vote for Obama: Not only did I score a couple of undecided voters for the Obama camp, I worked hard enough to educate two Nobamas to the good guys. And you can still donate to the campaign, using the link to the right →

3. Gathering my friends to recreate the Feist video: I wish...

2. Heal my ITBS: check!

1. Make decorating strides with my hous: One living room down, a bedroom to go!

The break, which started Sept. 29, the day after my recovery run from the Akron Marathon, was nice and not really a break at all. I rode my trainer-racked bike 5-6 days each week and renewed my religious vows to yoga and even more so to Pilates.

All that keeping up made my return to training this evening pretty swell. I ran four miles at 9:20/mile and felt great the whole run, despite the blustering winds and the chilly temps for which I’m not ready.

Lucky for me: I live by the lake, which makes the air not-so-cold.

That’s speaking very relatively.

I hit some fatigue points along the way—my body’s way of saying “WTF? I thought we gave this up, girl?” But I persisted and pushed past two very premature walls and cruised to the end feeling grateful for my health and ability to get back to it.

(I was also grateful for the Nike running tights I bought on clearance this summer. They totally neutralized the heat in my legs and the ice in the air. Surprisingly, too, they felt better than the Mizuno tights after whom I'd planned to name my firstborn. If only I had found my gloves!)

After last year’s injury and this year’s ITBS, I’ve learned to appreciate the running break. There’s something to taking off a few weeks and resuming your training anew. My leg doesn’t hurt and my body feels rested. It almost makes me want to have a healthy approach to training!

This bout with training, though, is an in-betweener: I’m warming up for the Turkey Trot on Thanksgiving Day (I’ll also be cooking my first 14-person dinner that day), after which I’ll take another couple weeks rest before I get in the long haul. I’m going to race in Cleveland this May. And I might just do another marathon.

Speaking of marathons, muchos congratulations to Landon, who ran a stellar 3:58:26 at Columbus a couple weeks ago. I watched him cross checkpoints online, and I was awed at his steady pace and ability to hit negative splits from the 10K on. And as the projected finish time approached, Neil and I sat in the living room, wildly cheering Landon to the end... and then he beat his expected arrival by at least two minutes. Now that’s the way to run a race!

And that was what I did on my running vacation.

First 50 Miles and One Failed Run

Just think: three weeks from now I should be crossing “complete Akron marathon” off my to-do list. But first, some training.

I recovered well enough from last Saturday’s 21-miler to by new shoes from Second Sole, hit a baby shower and get hit with water balloons at a birthday party only after running five miles on Sunday with tired legs and well-equipped feet.

Last week’s total distance: 46 miles. That’s a personal week long, as well as a few miles short of swimming to Wheatley, Ontario. Woo hoo!

So, I recovered Monday with more stretching than a taffy factory and sheer admiration for my new Mizuno Wave Riders (I used to be an Inspire girl, but Second Sole suggested Rider; so far I agree). They’re the right fit, right size, right shape. I have faith that they’ve be A-OK for Akron, but that didn’t stop me from obsessing over the shoes all week long.

Seven miles on Tuesday, ten on Wednesday and four on Thursday (it was supposed to be a 15-miler, but 91 degrees melted my will) set me up well for a 50-mile week. All I had to do: finish the planned 25-miler on Saturday and cool down on Sunday.

It was not to be. The 25-miler, that is.

I woke up early and optimistic on Saturday to cloudy skies and rain, rain, rain. While I’ve never been a fan of rain-running, I wasn’t going to let it stop me from running now. Besides, I’d like to be prepared for whatever condition Mama Nature throws my way Sept. 27. I dressed as normal, found a baseball cap, reconfigured my routes (in case the rain, chills or chafing got too bad, I didn’t want to be too far from home) and flew out the door.

It wasn’t bad heading west into Cleveland for a bit with the rain and wind to my back. Running the remaining 15+ miles into the rain, however, just wasn’t as fun.

I made a water/bathroom stop at home around six miles, when I picked up a mini bottle of Aquaphor to combat the massive chafing exaggerated by the rain-soaked clothes. Because of the damp air, I didn’t feel very thirsty, so I just swigged some water and rushed back out to finish my next segment due east.

When I hit my end point several miles east of home, I kept running until the sidewalk ended, turned and looped around just as the air was drying and the sun playing the tease. I was crossing 12-13 miles when I really started regretting the small water swig and no GU decision at my first stop. I was wholly dehydrated and totally drained. Oh, and about six miles out.

It was a terrific exercise in mind control as I spent about an hour convincing myself to keep running, though I had nothing at all left in the tank. “What would you do if this were the marathon, girl?” Well, I’d probably start walking, self. “I highly doubt that, competitive freak.” OK, watch me, self.

But I didn’t.

I made it home at mile 18, chugged electrolyte Vitamin Water, several glasses of water and ate a bar of something. My legs started tightening super fast and my whole body just didn’t feel right. At first I thought I should rush to get back on the road when I realized it wasn’t a happy run and my body obviously wasn’t digging any of it.

And I turned in. Seven miles short. I showered, ate four bowls of cereal, dressed for a wedding and then ate my guilt away with coconut shrimp and chocolate-covered strawberries. Sigh.

A big difference between this week and last, though, was the feeling in my legs. When I finished yesterday, I stretched through and through, massaged and had Neil rub out some horrible pain plaguing my back and alignment. So, I felt pretty awesome Sunday morning.

After a big breakfast, a nap and some football, I took a run around Neil’s parents’ neighborhood and a local track for 12 miles. Sure, I ran three miles short of last week’s 21, but I recovered much faster. And instead of doing several mid-range runs and one uber run, I completed three pretty good distance days.

While I beat myself up Saturday for not running my 25, I felt better Sunday for the week’s training. My first 50-mile week felt great. And I totally deserved all eight of the chocolate-covered strawberries (and two hulking pieces of wedding cake) I downed last night.

Who knows what the follow week has in store? But what I do know: it’s my last week before the taper. And I live for taper… and dessert.

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.

Oh. Yeah.

See? All it takes is a little complaining to get some things done. One poopy-weather post and BAM! A beautiful day. You’re welcome, Northeast Ohio!

I wasn’t going to get caught resting on my laurels with the sun blazing yesterday, so I met Landon at John Carroll again for an afternoon run. While several other training-bloggers have had opportunities to wear shorts in recent weeks, I had my own day in the sun: I went gloveless. That’s right. No gloves on a run. Pretty impressive for mid-March, eh?

Maybe not.

But I was wearing sunglasses and having a swell time. We took off from John Carroll and headed northish on Fairmount Boulevard, running past my favorite CH houses, to Coventry to Mayfield Road. Lovely, lovely, lost-free route.

Hills on this trek weren't visually apparent, but their cardiovascular impact was. At least I imagine it was to Landon because he had to hear me huff-and-puff the whole way (he was just fine).

We ran 7.6 miles in under 1:12:00, which amounts to 9:30/mile pace. I admittedly took us off a little faster than I should during our 20-minute warm-up, but I get so excited when I’m talking about good-job stories, running with friends or getting out on a nice day.

But I paid for it too: not only did I catch a stitch 30 minutes into the run, I had to take a walk break ten minutes from the end of our run for some quick recovery. Have I gone lame-o?

As I mentioned the other day, I've officially begun my Akron Marathon (and Cleveland Half Marathon) training and I'm following the plan outlined in Jeff Galloway's book Marathon: You Can Do It!, which my mom gave me for Christmas. It contains all the nutrition and cross-training information I should have known last year, as well as an interesting recommendation: short walk breaks.

Briefly speaking, walk breaks "vary the use of the muscle and reduce intensity of the work. Because you're not using the muscle in the same way continuously, you significantly increase the distance you can cover before fatigue sets in." Which makes sense. What surprised me is that these breaks, especially when you're building or rebuilding your miles, won't hurt my endurance. We'll see.

If you visit the book's Google Book preview and flip to pages 9-11, you can read Galloway's take on walk breaks.

My need for breaks made me realize, however, that I have plenty of rebuilding to do. This run was my longest (and hilliest) since my October-through-January hiatus. My legs felt strong, but my endurance could use some Vitamin Water or something.

Speaking of Vitamin Water, Landon mentioned that his friend will appear in a forthcoming Vitamin Water commercial, and I’m eager to learn whether it’s LeBron James’ latest.

News says LBJ plays a lawyer; I don’t know how Vitamin Water helps his case. But in a recent CNN story, LBJ says that if his career had taken a different path, he might have made a good attorney: “I can be real intimidating when I put my game face on,” he says. “And I never lose.”

Who else can make intimidating look so damn good too? Some people were just meant for stardom.

And if plans hold up, Landon and I will be all-stars this weekend: we’re planning a cross-Cleveland run on Saturday morning.

It just got interesting…

Lost in the Heights

Oh, not me. I wasn’t lost. The sidewalks were lost when I ran yesterday. I couldn’t find them anywhere!

After changing into running tights and a fleece yesterday, I tiptoed out of work—not because I wasn’t supposed to leave; I didn’t want anyone to see me in tights—and ran from campus, up Cedar Hill and into thigh-deep snow banks that stretched as far as the eye could see.

A quarter mile of slipping and swearing later, I cut off the main road and ran on the side streets around Cleveland Heights. Now that was better! On my way into work I spied cleared sidewalks on Fairmount, so I figured a run through the Heights north of Cedar, cutting across and wandering back to Fairmount would make for at least 60 minutes and six miles. And a good last run before Saturday.

I’m such an optimist.

Sorry, I meant an idiot. Running up and down side streets went well for the first 40 minutes—at least 50 percent of the sidewalks were runnable. Unfortunately, they tended not to be all in a row. The streets were desolate, so the sidewalk situation didn’t matter much. At first.

The good/hard part of the run: the first 45 minutes were all uphill! As I trudged up Cedar Hill, I marveled at how not impossible it was for me and thought back to last year’s St. Malachi race and the hills that killed me. And not just the treacherous final stretch. I’m as susceptible to hill-tiring as anyone else, but it’s nice to know this year I won’t start wheezing when I just see an incline. I’ll just deserve an extra post-race treat. Right?

Needless to say, I was tired but happy after the first stretch of my run. I was also happy to start heading back. And I would have been even happier if I could have headed back. When I finally made my way back to Fairmount, there were no cleared sidewalks. Just four-foot mounds of snow alongside traffic moving over 40 mph.

I crossed the boulevard and ran a few blocks to another large road, which I thought might have some running space. But there were five-foot banks on that street and cars moving at least 45 mph. And I just wasn’t feeling too swell about running against razzled rush hour traffic. So, I headed back to Fairmount.

In death-defying spurts, I ran against traffic on Fairmount (at fire-on-my-butt speeds) one block at a time. It truly must have looked like a scene from a movie. Sad, but true. Once I had tired, I just started walking in the snow. Lucky for me, the dense snow packed under my feet and it only went knee-deep most of the way.

About thirty minutes later I couldn’t really feel my feet, but I finally reached the Fairmount sidewalk I had spied in the morning. Never have I wanted to go home and be home than 6 p.m. last night.

Once I picked up the sidewalk again (it was only interrupted by another 100-yard streak of deep snow-walking), it was a nice 15-minute run back to my car. All down hill.

So, I ran for about 60 minutes at an average pace of 9:30-10:00/mile; I trudged for about 30 minutes as fast as my anger would take me.

It’s no secret that I have minimal patience with snow coverage. And there’s nothing I can do about it. Following a carbolicious dinner stop at Whole Foods, I pulled into my neighborhood with the urge to shovel all the sidewalks in sight. But then I realized I actually have things to do for the next six months, which is how long it would probably take me.

My last run wasn’t bad. And at least it helped me exercise my angry and impatient face, which I don’t use often at all. Going into Saturday’s race, I not only feel confident about the distance, weather and the hills, but any one the road conditions I might face as well. I’ve run through so much snow, sludge, slush, sleet, slippy-dippy schtuff over the past week that clomping into a puddle on Saturday won’t phase me. It will just be par for the course.

Between now and Saturday, I’ll be sticking with plentiful yogaing, while staying off my feet, doing some aerobic work, eating high-energy foods and staying positive. And crossing my fingers that they’ll have Boston Cream cupcakes at MSC this weekend.

Good News!

The good news is that my left leg isn’t broken. It didn’t crack up the fibula and down the tibia, as my doctor had feared. I won’t need surgery, and I can even get off the physical therapy.

Nevertheless, I do have a slight stress fracture in my fibula, whose breaking is really just a family rite of passage (my mom and my brother have both had summertime breakings of the same bone). I am happy to report that not only has my flu mostly gone away—the cough remains—but I am now allowed to walk and yoga, and then ease into some jogging in about two weeks. I'm eager to hit the walking sidewalks and yoga mat this weekend!

All of these steps, of course, may be taken only if no pain occurs. The doctor believes I may be experiencing tendonitis, so the ibuprofen continues.

So, family, blog and real-world friends are awesome. Congrats to all of the killer runs everyone has had, and many thanks to everyone for their support. It stinks to be injured, but it’s uplifting to know that people care. And it makes me want to run—without harming myself—so much more!

But on the news front: Neil and I might be moving soon. No solid details yet, but we will likely be heading north. And I’m eager to scope out some good running neighborhoods and the prospect of bear-free trails.

Saturday Goals Update!

While I’ve been really laid back about Saturday’s race (despite that whole wig-out-about-the-weather thing I had going), I have been thinking about goals for the race. Because I’m still a little shaky about what to expect from my tri performances, my goals are loosely set as follows:

• 250-yard swim: 5:00
• 7-mile bike: 33:00
• 2-mile run: 18:00

And that should get me in a couple minutes under 1:00:00, which is truly my goal in this race.

I took a walk through the course on Thursday night with a group of women I’m interviewing for a story about the race. The running path seemed a little narrow, uneven and potentially dangerous in a twist-my-ankle-in-a-deep-whole kind of way. But typing it out might remind me that I have to keep an eye open for the divots.

My fingers are just crossed that I actually remember how to ride a bike. Ah, some things I do make complete sense. Other things (i.e., still neglecting to even remove my bike from the trunk since GCT): not so much. Instead, I’ve signed up for spinning classes over the winter. Next year, I’ll totally rock the bike. Or, you know, not finish last.

But for now I’m off to prep: I need to get my hands on some pre-race food and a container for feet washing—my T1 at GCT was 3:50 because I had to meticulously remove each grain of sand from my feet. Perhaps a quick foot bath might cut that down a few. That way I can have a few more minutes on the bike!

My 100th Post, the Boston Marathon and a Sick Day

My top-five favorite sick-day activities:

5. Doing slight weight exercises that help me remember being healthy.
4. Kleenex hunting. Where did I put my last one?
3. Eating CoCo Wheats (well, that’s an everyday activity).
2. Doing homework.
1. Watching “You’ve Got Mail” with commentary by Nora Ephron and Laura Schuler.

And that’s what I have done today—aside from the inevitable and evil pull of checking work email. But I have managed to avoid doing too much work.

But what has boggled this stuffy head is that the Indians-Angel series has moved to Milwaukee because of the weather in Cleveland. I 've only visited Wisconsin once, but it just doesn't strike me as a less wintry alternative to NEOhio. You really do learn something new everyday.

So, I may not be able to actually run today, but I can take this downtime at least to think about running. And to think about my upcoming race: the Cleveland 10-Miler.

Once I get out of the sick clouds and back on the road, I think my confidence about the race will improve. At least this time around, I’m confident that I can, in fact, finish the race I’m targeting. Although you will have to remind my I said that before the race on April 28!

I don’t, however, think I quite understand how to race longer distances just yet… last time I really held up on speed and slowed myself down every time I felt the urge to kick it into the next gear. So, over the coming weeks, I would really like to practice the balance between my conflicting mindsets and get a sense for pacing a 10-mile race (without overdoing it).

My last race pace was about 9:00/mile, which was a really relaxed pace with some complications near the end of the race that had nothing to do, really, with any long-legged dogs. So, I don’t think it would be too much to ask myself to shave off 30-60 seconds each mile. My long training runs (now that I’ve been taming myself!) have been around 8:00/mile, so at least it’s possible.

Another thing I will have to consider is whether I will do the drink-and-run. First: I’m well aware and appreciative of good hydration. On my last two long runs—10 and 12 miles—I’ve felt great at the end and not dehydrated at all. Don’t get me wrong—I was grateful for some swigs of Gatorade, but I never felt desperate for water during the run. And I think I’m getting a better feel for when I do need it and don’t.

The reason for my concern: my anxiety dried me up so badly at St. Malachi that by two miles I was thinking some of the rainy-day puddles looked really appealing. But when I finally had water around 2.5-3 miles, I had the worst stitch ever. In fact, I ran holding my side for the last 2+ miles. None of my anti-stitch therapies before or during the race made it go away. It wasn’t pretty.

And after the race, I was torn over whether the stitch was purely from the water or at least partially manufactured by my easy-to-psych-myself-out mind. It’s something I should practice just in case.

But enough about me: in one week, fantastic runners from around the world will converge on the East Coast to run from Hopkinton, Mass. to Boston in the Boston Marathon. All the best to Salty One and Papa Louie who will be running hard, kicking butt and taking names in Boston next week!

The Longest Run Ever. Again.

It must have been around mile four that I left my Negative Nilly behind. She was really holding me down. All I wanted was to run at least five miles, but when I reached five, I wanted to do six and a half; I reached six and a half and I wanted to run eight.

So, I settled the conflict by running 9.06 miles.

I kid you not, over nine miles: it's the longest I've ever run in my entire life (I know I keep saying that, but it's true every time)! It had crossed my mind to run a full 10 miles and count the run as a double on the February goal, but I realized that I might start working toward goals for all the wrong reasons.

But nine miles! It solidified my choice to run the five-mile rach at St. Malachi on March 10.

I had originally set out this icy morning to just get five minimal miles under my belt and out of the way. But I started thinking about the race in less than two weeks. I thought that if I continued to stop at five miles, my body would be ready to stop way too early in a 5-mile race. I hope to prepare my body to race double that distance in the next couple of weeks, to be doubly ready.

When I was a swimmer, my dad always said to me that if I wanted to be an excellent 100-yard butterflyer, I should practice swimming 500-yard butterfly. And when I would swim 100, I would be more than prepared for the feat.

(I never actually followed my dad's advice, but I understood the logic. I may have been too interested back then in rushing home to hang out with Landon and gawk at the evolution of late-90s music videos, like "I Want You" by Savage Garden and the Take That video with Robbie Williams dancing in the rain.)

P.S. Thanks to whomever nominated my blog for a Blog of the Day Award: that's awesome!

Making Time to Train

Sure, most of us lack the sponsorships, billion-dollar Internet enterprises and wealthy aunt Mildreds that would enable us to devote our days to training or improving technique. But that isn't an excuse for not making time to train.

Each summer, I like to take two weeks vacation to pretend to be independently wealthy (you know, I do whatever independently wealthy people do while the rest of the world is at work: going to lunch with people I don't typically see, swimming in the middle of the morning, making plans for my superhero secret lair), just to get a taste. But when my real world kicks in, carving out time for training can be difficult — especially if you don't have people who support you.

Regardless of whether you have work, school, kids or some other priorities, there should always be a balancing act you can manage to keep yourself healthy. Even if it can get dizzying at times.

Class began this week (as I previously mentioned), and my regularly scheduled training during lunch on Mondays and Wednesdays has been supplanted by one of the last courses for my master's degree. I can't just cut out two days of training, so I have to balance.

Last week I tried to run in the morning. That's going to get some getting used to: it's cold, it's dark; I'm stiff and just a little bit lazy. Training after work is an option. But if you've ever met me, you'll know that once I'm on the road home, I'm going home!

My key, however, is to prioritize my training. For instance, on Wednesdays I could a) sleep until 7 a.m., casually get ready and go to work by 8 a.m. or b) get up at 6 a.m., get to the rec. center by 6:30, have an hour to train, and 30 minutes to get ready and go to work by 8 a.m. Tough choice?

Granted, that extra hour of sleep can be a major sacrifice. I'll just have to trim some late-night wall-staring to compensate.

But on the running front, I ran a total of nine miles this week, including 3 miles on Friday afternoon. Rather than just running for my entire session, I ran a fast two miles and then rode a stationary bike for several miles until my legs were tired. Then I took off and ran one more mile on tired, wobbly, Bambi legs. It was awesome!

It was difficult at first, but I still managed to clock 7:22 for my mile. I would like to move toward combining the three areas so I understand how my body operates in the tri-environment.

Finally, I swam my longest single-distance for the swimming season on Thursday:

2,000 yards free
400 yard IM

It was strangely crowded at the pool (the beginning-of-the-semester resolutionists: "this semester will be different") on Thursday afternoon, so my time was a little cut short. My intimidating staring failed again. I guess I'll have to learn new techniques. Or just take up lap swimming in the hot tub or the vortex.

Speaking of the vortex, I'll be looking more into open-water swimming soon. I have minimal experience in open water (by choice). But if you would like to hear the story about swimming five miles in the Caribbean on a wind/wave-warning day as I was carrying someone and getting stung by a jellyfish, ask me about it some time.

Finish Line: 30 Miles in January

Landon was correct: I woke up around 8:30 a.m. and listened to the sounds of raindrops tacking the windowsill. It was relaxing for a moment, until I thought about my remaining miles. So, I up and drove to the Kent State rec. center and ran my remaining 7 miles. I'm done!

Today, I ran in three sets to get to seven miles: 5K (3.13 miles), 2 miles and 2 miles. I don't typically run long (for me) distances on back-to-back days, so I was tired today. The first 5K was a little slow, but — with a little encouragement from a Kent State wide receiver and the Will Smith track "Freakin' It" — my first 2-mile set was tiger fast: 8:01 for the first and my personal best 7:00 for the second. We won't talk about the other sets: I finished them and I'll leave it at that.

But now I must start over again. I haven't determined next month's goal(s), but will definitely be thinking about it. 40 miles? 50 miles? We'll also see what will be at stake.

Thanks to everyone for their encouraging words and very close guesses on my finish line. As the winner, Landon will get "Ricki-Ticki-Tavi" on DVD. Your next chance for equally cool prizes will be coming soon.

Saturday: The Day of Rest

Saturdays have typically been a big running day for me (I like to wake Neil up way too early and head out to the rec. center by 8:30 a.m.), but I really enjoyed the training rest today. I did do some work with weights, but I spent the rest of the day having fun.

Among other things, we went to the West Side Market, where I couldn't pass by a couple of Russian tea biscuits that just couldn't stop staring at me. So, I bought them, wrapped them up really well, and stuck them in the freezer for later this month. I had thought about creating some headgear with a stick, on the end of which I would hang the biscuits, but that might be a little too weird. You think?

It's important to rest, so I'm going to get some restful sleep tonight. I'm synching up my iPod right now with my latest music updates, and hope to get kicking with my Nike+iPod stuff tomorrow (finally!).

Swimming Tuesday Hampered by Resolutionists

My first Swimming Tuesday was hampered today by 1) a slightly sore shoulder from being overzealous with weights on New Year Monday and 2) resolution swimmers. All due respect to resolution-makers, but, as Jeff G. has aptly observed, getting in shape is more a lifestyle change than a one-year [failed] commitment.

I typically swim at 1 p.m. during lunch on Tuesdays and Thursdays at the Kent State rec. center. Experience has shown that the lanes are open at this time (don't ask about the noon episode).

That is, until today.

I tried to look intimidating with my swim cap and Vanquisher goggles. But something tells me that the mostly large white guys swimming lap-for-lap weren't moved. My theory, however, was that since these were resolution swimmers, they wouldn't have too much stamina. I was right. Within ten minutes the pool was mostly clear.

Today's limited and skimpy workout (1400 yards):

500 yard free warm-up
400 yard IM kick (shoulder rest)
400 yard IM swim
100 yard free warm-down

It's still early. I have found it is wise to listen to your aches and pains sometimes, especially as you get older. Two and a half weeks ago I tweaked some muscles in my right back/wing doing weights, but ignored the pain as I warmed up with a 1,000 yard warm-up in the pool. My arm was sore through each and every stroke, but I kept pushing it. Then one lap into the next set, I was pulling into a turn and felt something pull and hint at a tear. I had to do that survival back float just to make it back to the wall. But after a trip to the hot tub, a long shower and some days of rest, I was back at it.

Note: today's shoulder pain was the right side again, but more rotator cuff than wing. It almost feels like a got punched in the arm! But I think I will go with the WebMd diagnosis of muscle strain.

Tomorrow: the Nike-Apple iPod Sport Kit.

The Road to 2015 Begins Here.

Don't call it a resolution (or a comeback, for that matter): today I officially begin my training for the Ironman. My sights are fixed on the 2015 event in Hawaii. Until then, I will be tracking my progress (the running will be interesting at the very least); competing in smaller, more reasonable events; trying to quit and getting back on track; and learning how to get from moderate shape to Ironman. Stay tuned: it is bound to be an exciting time.

Some background:
In July 2005, I made a decision: in 10 years I will compete in the Ironman triathlon in Kona, Hawaii. That's THE Ironman. Distances: 2.4-mile swim, 112-mile bike, 26.2-mile run.

I've been training moderately since then — running most days, swimming at least twice a week, riding my bike in nice weather. But with the new year (and nearly two years gone!), I'm taking it up a few notches. Plus my 27th birthday is quickly approaching and I need a reason to feel more youthful than ever. (My brother pointed out the other day that I will now be "officially in my late twenties." Thirty-year-old bastard.)

Swimming is my strength — I was a pretty good competitive swimmer from the time I was 6 until I was 18. Don't ask what happened after that. Although I was out of the water for over six years, I think I am a better swimmer mechanically now (but I will never get that youthful speed back). Perhaps my mind works better now too. Running, on the other hand, is my weakness. The last time I found running easy was 1989, when I played for the youth boys' league baseball team in Euclid, Ohio. Then puberty hit. And while I've never been a serious biker, I take some pretty good rides, and am looking into riding my bike to work on decent days. Unfortunately, I grew up riding my bike on the sidewalk, so I'm still learning that whole "riding on the street" thing everyone talks about.

So, I'm going to keep track of my workouts, questions, answers, and useful pointers for future Ironwomen and men. And then if I make it, you can too!