It was nice to do a simple 5K again. I've done Race for the Cure every year since 2004. Despite the crazy crowds, the lack of timing chips, and the huge pain it is to get there in traffic, I will always come back. It was the first race I'd ever done. This was the race that gave me the running bug; the jumping point for all of my triathlons. So as a result, it will always have a fond place in my heart.
That said, I do wish to bitch for a moment. I know this may be against the spirit of the race, but why, for the love of everything good, do people who plan to walk the race start on the Run side?? The race is split down the road for a reason! And furthermore, if you're going to walk on the run side, why would you start at the front of a mass of tens of thousands of runners? Every year this happens. I realize that a lot of people aren't veteran at this whole racing thing and have no idea what "seeding oneself" even means, but it doesn't take a genius to figure out that this is a really dumbass idea.
But yeah...breast cancer and hope and all that.
Wednesday, October 12, 2011
Friday, September 30, 2011
Belated Race Report for the Boulder 70.3
So I finished it. Without crawling! It took 6 hours, 47 minutes, and 33 seconds. Which was longer than it took me last year when I was all hypothyroid. But I guess there's the mitigating factor this year of being unable to train on my sprained ankles, as well as being in the process of healing (or I guess setting back the healing of) my sprained ankles during the race. Also, I went rock climbing the day before, and I like this excuse the best because it makes me seem badass.
And at least I did feel much better during this race than last year.
Swim 51:53
I'm a terrible swimmer. I'm even worse when I'm refusing to kick in order to save my ankles for the run (imagine that!) I went with my old standby of starting way off to the back and side. Unfortunately, I ended up next to a (faster) swimmer who couldn't sight at all who kept crossing in front of me. I did briefly entertain drowning this person the 7th time she crossed my line, but figured that would get me disqualified.
T1
It took me forever to get my ankle braces on because it HURT! All in all it took me about 8 minutes, but I never really cared much about my transition times. I mean...sure, I could strive to be the fastest stripper ever, but why?
It was a little disheartening being one of the last three bikes out of the transition area, but being in the 3rd to last wave, and being the slowest swimmer in the history of mankind, it was expected.
Bike 3:00:58
I really enjoyed the bike.
At first I felt like I was really far behind. It felt like everyone was already on their 2nd lap when I was one my first. I was a bit worried I'd be the only one left on the course. And that the dreaded sag wagon would come up and tell me what a failure I was.
But then I hit lap two and realized that I wasn't alone and felt like less of a failure. I did hit a wall at about mile 50 and ended up pulling back a little to recover, but 18.53mph for 56 miles isn't bad for me.
Run 02:41:50
Okay, so I went into this with a secret hope that I was going to be miraculously cured and be able to totally kick ass on the run, all the while knowing I was really going to suck. But then the 96 degree heat and my general lameness took my delusions and stomped them into the ground.
Having only been given the go-ahead to resume running by my physical therapist 2 weeks ago, I ended up walking the aid stations and a few hills between, running more than I thought I could.
I didn't have too hard of a time staying cool, thanks to all the ice I dumped down my top at every aid station and the sponge I kept in my visor. I sounded like a martini shaker with every step, but at least I felt okay.
I spent most of my time staring at the ground so I wouldn't sprain either ankle again, which made for an incredibly boring run, but oh well.
Afterparty
So when I finally got to the food tent and found they had run out of food, I nearly had a complete meltdown. This seems to be a theme for all my races. I should probably start baking cookies or something on the dashboard of my car during all my races so I can stop devolving into a raging bitch after every race.
And at least I did feel much better during this race than last year.
Swim 51:53
I'm a terrible swimmer. I'm even worse when I'm refusing to kick in order to save my ankles for the run (imagine that!) I went with my old standby of starting way off to the back and side. Unfortunately, I ended up next to a (faster) swimmer who couldn't sight at all who kept crossing in front of me. I did briefly entertain drowning this person the 7th time she crossed my line, but figured that would get me disqualified.
T1
It took me forever to get my ankle braces on because it HURT! All in all it took me about 8 minutes, but I never really cared much about my transition times. I mean...sure, I could strive to be the fastest stripper ever, but why?
It was a little disheartening being one of the last three bikes out of the transition area, but being in the 3rd to last wave, and being the slowest swimmer in the history of mankind, it was expected.
Bike 3:00:58
I really enjoyed the bike.
At first I felt like I was really far behind. It felt like everyone was already on their 2nd lap when I was one my first. I was a bit worried I'd be the only one left on the course. And that the dreaded sag wagon would come up and tell me what a failure I was.
But then I hit lap two and realized that I wasn't alone and felt like less of a failure. I did hit a wall at about mile 50 and ended up pulling back a little to recover, but 18.53mph for 56 miles isn't bad for me.
Run 02:41:50
Okay, so I went into this with a secret hope that I was going to be miraculously cured and be able to totally kick ass on the run, all the while knowing I was really going to suck. But then the 96 degree heat and my general lameness took my delusions and stomped them into the ground.
Having only been given the go-ahead to resume running by my physical therapist 2 weeks ago, I ended up walking the aid stations and a few hills between, running more than I thought I could.
I didn't have too hard of a time staying cool, thanks to all the ice I dumped down my top at every aid station and the sponge I kept in my visor. I sounded like a martini shaker with every step, but at least I felt okay.
I spent most of my time staring at the ground so I wouldn't sprain either ankle again, which made for an incredibly boring run, but oh well.
Afterparty
So when I finally got to the food tent and found they had run out of food, I nearly had a complete meltdown. This seems to be a theme for all my races. I should probably start baking cookies or something on the dashboard of my car during all my races so I can stop devolving into a raging bitch after every race.
Wednesday, July 27, 2011
Weight loss!
After months of avoiding the scale because weighing myself just pissed me off, I finally hopped on it again this morning. And......I'm only 2 pounds away from my pre-marathon weight, when my body was functioning normally. Success!
Part of me is a still a bit confused by the weight loss. Since I had sprained my ankles a month (and two) ago, I haven't been able to be as active as I was before. So with the constant "calories in = calories out" model of weight loss drumming in my head, it baffles that I'm losing weight now when a year ago I was working out much more but was unable to shed any weight at all.
On a logical level, I know it's because my metabolism was messed up then, and the "calories out" part of the equation just wasn't working. But it's hard to get used to your body, something you live with every day, just up and working differently. It's like if one day you learned that all the speed limits have been raised by 10 mph. It takes you a while to get used to, and you find yourself driving near the old speed limit every so often. But maybe that analogy only works because I'm Asian.
I believe part of it may be the gluten-free diet, and much of it is the levothyroxine kicking in. But there's still that little part in my head saying I'm cheating. Way to turn something good into something crazy, right?
Part of me is a still a bit confused by the weight loss. Since I had sprained my ankles a month (and two) ago, I haven't been able to be as active as I was before. So with the constant "calories in = calories out" model of weight loss drumming in my head, it baffles that I'm losing weight now when a year ago I was working out much more but was unable to shed any weight at all.
On a logical level, I know it's because my metabolism was messed up then, and the "calories out" part of the equation just wasn't working. But it's hard to get used to your body, something you live with every day, just up and working differently. It's like if one day you learned that all the speed limits have been raised by 10 mph. It takes you a while to get used to, and you find yourself driving near the old speed limit every so often. But maybe that analogy only works because I'm Asian.
I believe part of it may be the gluten-free diet, and much of it is the levothyroxine kicking in. But there's still that little part in my head saying I'm cheating. Way to turn something good into something crazy, right?
Monday, July 11, 2011
Boulder Peak: From the sidelines
So yesterday I got my first DNF (Boulder Peak), although I'm not sure that not even starting a race counts for a DNF. I ended up volunteering to do body-marking in the morning, and spent the rest of the time watching my friend compete. I left the race feeling awed, humbled, disappointed, and depressed all at the same time.
First, let me say that I have absolutely no patience for watching sports whatsoever. I've always felt that the time spent watching sports could be better used playing a sport. So it was amazing to finally see how the pros and elite compete in these things. I'm pretty sure if I tried to transition as quickly as they did I would knock over the entire bike rack and injure myself.
It was also humbling to see all of the athletes out there, and know that all of these people have trained hard and were out there to do the best they could. Usually I'm too absorbed in calming my "I'm going to drown! Please don't drown!" thoughts to really pay attention to the people around me. Yesterday there were clydesdales, 70 year old men and women, 15 year old kids, and I even marked some woman who had just won her last battle with breast cancer.
But as the race wore on, I started to feel the disappointment I thought I had overcome when I first decided not to participate in this race. I couldn't help but imagine how I would be feeling on the bike (brutal course; I loved it!) and where I would be in the race. It came most strongly when my friend finished; and I knew the glow of elation and accomplishment she was feeling that I was lacking. I still cheered her on, but did sort of guiltily feel like a bad friend for feeling this way.
And finally, I left the race feeling depressed. I finally have a physical therapy appointment, and I'm terrified that she'll say I can't do the 70.3 either. So I tried to make myself feel better by going to The Bent Gate and purchasing my first pair of Italian leather shoes. Granted, they're climbing shoes, but hey, they still count, right?
First, let me say that I have absolutely no patience for watching sports whatsoever. I've always felt that the time spent watching sports could be better used playing a sport. So it was amazing to finally see how the pros and elite compete in these things. I'm pretty sure if I tried to transition as quickly as they did I would knock over the entire bike rack and injure myself.
It was also humbling to see all of the athletes out there, and know that all of these people have trained hard and were out there to do the best they could. Usually I'm too absorbed in calming my "I'm going to drown! Please don't drown!" thoughts to really pay attention to the people around me. Yesterday there were clydesdales, 70 year old men and women, 15 year old kids, and I even marked some woman who had just won her last battle with breast cancer.
But as the race wore on, I started to feel the disappointment I thought I had overcome when I first decided not to participate in this race. I couldn't help but imagine how I would be feeling on the bike (brutal course; I loved it!) and where I would be in the race. It came most strongly when my friend finished; and I knew the glow of elation and accomplishment she was feeling that I was lacking. I still cheered her on, but did sort of guiltily feel like a bad friend for feeling this way.
And finally, I left the race feeling depressed. I finally have a physical therapy appointment, and I'm terrified that she'll say I can't do the 70.3 either. So I tried to make myself feel better by going to The Bent Gate and purchasing my first pair of Italian leather shoes. Granted, they're climbing shoes, but hey, they still count, right?
Friday, July 8, 2011
Cold again...
So lately my office has felt about 55 degrees F again, and it's making me paranoid.
I don't think I'm becoming hypothyroid again, since I was tested at the endocrinologist about 2 months ago my dosage seemed to be correct, but the fact that I need to wear a heavy winter coat in July is raising some alarms.
I haven't been working out as much, but I can easily attribute that to my two sprained ankles. I'm still going 17-19 mph on my bike without issue, so I'm pretty sure my aversion to exercise isn't due to lethargy.
But yet...I'm so COLD.
Well, actually I'm fine everywhere except at the office, so I'm almost positive it's the stupid building management trying to kill me with hypothermia.
But the seed of doubt has been planted. It's a bit frustrating to be unable to trust your own body's thermometer.
I don't think I'm becoming hypothyroid again, since I was tested at the endocrinologist about 2 months ago my dosage seemed to be correct, but the fact that I need to wear a heavy winter coat in July is raising some alarms.
I haven't been working out as much, but I can easily attribute that to my two sprained ankles. I'm still going 17-19 mph on my bike without issue, so I'm pretty sure my aversion to exercise isn't due to lethargy.
But yet...I'm so COLD.
Well, actually I'm fine everywhere except at the office, so I'm almost positive it's the stupid building management trying to kill me with hypothermia.
But the seed of doubt has been planted. It's a bit frustrating to be unable to trust your own body's thermometer.
Saturday, July 2, 2011
Tough Mudder Race Report
So on the heels of the Boulder Sprint, I was signed up to complete the Tough Mudder in Beaver Creek; a 10 mile adventure race with miscellaneous obstacles and electric shocks at the end. Kind of like a Warrior Dash on steroids.
With barely healed ankles, it was undoubtably a bad idea. But at an $80 registration fee, my cheap, crazy side just came out swinging and I ended up doing it.
I couldn't find my left ankle brace (I have organizational problems), but that ankle was mostly healed so I figured I'd just slap a ton of Kinesio tape on it and call it good.
As expected, I re-sprained that ankle about 3 miles into the run. But since the whole thing was mostly straight up a ski slope, I figured I could walk and finish the thing.
Surprisingly, the Electro-Shock therapy was not the worst of the obstacles. The worst was the 36 degree freezing cold water they expected you to completely submerse yourself in ducking under barrels. I went into it thinking, "eh, I do triathlons all the time. The water parts will be fine!" I quickly learned that it was not fine at all...at 36 degrees F, you resurface to try and take a breath, but your lungs seize up due to the cold and it's a struggle to do anything except flail around gaping like a fish.
Right before I went in some guy had to be pulled out by a rescue volunteer. And while I was thrashing about in the water, a guy next to me started screaming, "I can't do this! I can't do this!" which did not help my panic levels at all. On the plus side, it was like instantly icing my re-sprained ankle.
It ended up being a lot of fun, but I'm pretty sure it put me out of commission for the Boulder Peak next weekend. Yes, I'm actually sitting this one out before I mangle my ankles permanently (assuming I haven't already). I've already emailed to ask if I can volunteer instead. Also, I've finally caved and scheduled physical therapy instead of utilizing my "Damn you ankles, you do what I want, not the other way around!" form of rehab that has thus far been failing me. I don't understand why such a highly sophisticated method wouldn't work, but I guess them's the break.
Below are some videos taken from my GoPro Hero camera that I had posted on Facebook:
With barely healed ankles, it was undoubtably a bad idea. But at an $80 registration fee, my cheap, crazy side just came out swinging and I ended up doing it.
I couldn't find my left ankle brace (I have organizational problems), but that ankle was mostly healed so I figured I'd just slap a ton of Kinesio tape on it and call it good.
As expected, I re-sprained that ankle about 3 miles into the run. But since the whole thing was mostly straight up a ski slope, I figured I could walk and finish the thing.
Surprisingly, the Electro-Shock therapy was not the worst of the obstacles. The worst was the 36 degree freezing cold water they expected you to completely submerse yourself in ducking under barrels. I went into it thinking, "eh, I do triathlons all the time. The water parts will be fine!" I quickly learned that it was not fine at all...at 36 degrees F, you resurface to try and take a breath, but your lungs seize up due to the cold and it's a struggle to do anything except flail around gaping like a fish.
Right before I went in some guy had to be pulled out by a rescue volunteer. And while I was thrashing about in the water, a guy next to me started screaming, "I can't do this! I can't do this!" which did not help my panic levels at all. On the plus side, it was like instantly icing my re-sprained ankle.
It ended up being a lot of fun, but I'm pretty sure it put me out of commission for the Boulder Peak next weekend. Yes, I'm actually sitting this one out before I mangle my ankles permanently (assuming I haven't already). I've already emailed to ask if I can volunteer instead. Also, I've finally caved and scheduled physical therapy instead of utilizing my "Damn you ankles, you do what I want, not the other way around!" form of rehab that has thus far been failing me. I don't understand why such a highly sophisticated method wouldn't work, but I guess them's the break.
Below are some videos taken from my GoPro Hero camera that I had posted on Facebook:
Boulder Sprint Race Report
Finally, the Boulder Sprint Race Report
Swim: 20:35
Bike: 53:18
Run: 28:08
Total: 1:52:33
So a few thoughts. I obviously did end up doing the race; and I did better than I thought I would. I've never been a strong swimmer, and since I wasn't really able to kick during this swim, my time was almost exactly what I predicted it would be
The thing that really killed me were the transitions (6:57 and 3:52). The first one was absolutely horrible due to my struggles in getting on my ankle brace. I'm not going to lie, it hurt to get it over my foot. That should have been a sign that I shouldn't be doing the race, but if I listened to my body all the time I'd be sitting on my couch and eating cheetos 24/7 and 300 pounds.
But disregarding my initial protests, I loved being on my bike. After the initial pain of getting out of transition and onto the bike, my ankles didn't really bother me at all. So for 53:18 I felt like I had a complete and whole body. Plenty of people passed me, but 19.4 mph made me happy anyway. And everytime someone passed me, I thought, "Yeah, well you don't have gimpy ankles and have a functioning thyroid." Illogical since my ankles were bothering me at that point, but I like pretending that if I didn't have these issues I'd be cycling at an entirely realistic 30mph average.
Finally,the run. I put on my other ankle brace (for my less injured ankle) and started out walking as intended. And then I watched people pass me. And I did some calculations; if I continued with my limping walk, it would probably take an hour to finish the stupid course. And then I reasoned, well, 30 minutes abusing my poor ankles was clearly worse than spending an hour abusing my poor ankles only slightly less. So I broke into what I thought was a slow jog. And finished with a 9:04 pace, although I suspect the course was short.
Of course, the next day I paid for my stubborness with barely being able to walk, but it seemed worth it at the time. Dumb, I know. But apparently I have a psycho competitive side inside me. Unfortunately, I did "lose" to my friend by 3:00...but there's always next time!
Swim: 20:35
Bike: 53:18
Run: 28:08
Total: 1:52:33
So a few thoughts. I obviously did end up doing the race; and I did better than I thought I would. I've never been a strong swimmer, and since I wasn't really able to kick during this swim, my time was almost exactly what I predicted it would be
The thing that really killed me were the transitions (6:57 and 3:52). The first one was absolutely horrible due to my struggles in getting on my ankle brace. I'm not going to lie, it hurt to get it over my foot. That should have been a sign that I shouldn't be doing the race, but if I listened to my body all the time I'd be sitting on my couch and eating cheetos 24/7 and 300 pounds.
But disregarding my initial protests, I loved being on my bike. After the initial pain of getting out of transition and onto the bike, my ankles didn't really bother me at all. So for 53:18 I felt like I had a complete and whole body. Plenty of people passed me, but 19.4 mph made me happy anyway. And everytime someone passed me, I thought, "Yeah, well you don't have gimpy ankles and have a functioning thyroid." Illogical since my ankles were bothering me at that point, but I like pretending that if I didn't have these issues I'd be cycling at an entirely realistic 30mph average.
Finally,the run. I put on my other ankle brace (for my less injured ankle) and started out walking as intended. And then I watched people pass me. And I did some calculations; if I continued with my limping walk, it would probably take an hour to finish the stupid course. And then I reasoned, well, 30 minutes abusing my poor ankles was clearly worse than spending an hour abusing my poor ankles only slightly less. So I broke into what I thought was a slow jog. And finished with a 9:04 pace, although I suspect the course was short.
Of course, the next day I paid for my stubborness with barely being able to walk, but it seemed worth it at the time. Dumb, I know. But apparently I have a psycho competitive side inside me. Unfortunately, I did "lose" to my friend by 3:00...but there's always next time!
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)