Misery Loves Company

thresh·old  

n.

1. A piece of wood or stone placed beneath a door; a doorsill.

2. An entrance or a doorway.

3. The place or point of beginning; the outset.

4. The point that must be exceeded to begin producing a given effect or result or to elicit a response: a low threshold of pain.

~Free Dictionary by Farlex

What was there to like about tonight's threshold run?

It wasn't the 30 mph wind gusts, the steady rain and grey skies.

Nor was it the cute, fashionable but highly impractical Sporthill hoody I wore. After it's multiple attempts to strangle me, whip me in the the face and act as a sail, I took the darn thing off my body, tied it around my waist and ran in the cold, windy rain in a sports bra. Every little article of clothing and techie tool I was carrying on my person annoyed me.  Bouncing iPod earphone wire, vise-like grip of the Garmin revealing data I didn't care to know about, key in the back pocket of my running capris... I wanted to rip everything off and run naked! 

Don't even get met started on the PBJ that sat in my stomach or the previous night's Hard Core Yoga session that led to lead legs or being on my feet all day teaching my adorable, brilliant, well-behaved first graders.

Perhaps it the challenge of a nine mile run where I was supposed to maintain half marathon pace to 10K pace for 4 miles and then cut down to (*snort*) 5K pace for the final 3 miles? Hells no!

Was in the mind-fuck of running HARD on the four mile loop that I reserve for my short, easy, chatty runs with my running buddies?  Afraid not.

Enough already!  What was it?  Where's that silver lining?  Put on the rose-tinted glasses and tell us Trail Smitten Mom!

It was knowing that I was out there muscling my way through a nine mile weekday evening run with my jolly running team and my savvy coach.  I was not alone.  Coach even ran me in the final third of a mile!  I was able to finish strong rather than in the sniveling state I felt.  Ideal running conditions? Nope, but I had ideal company for this less than optimal run.  The other good thing about this run?  IT ENDED!

Then I hit the gym for a 800 yd swim to make up for how slow I ran.  Lastly, I drank a ReNewAle to cheer myself up.  Tomorrow is a new day.

Hagg Lake 25K Race Report

Dirty Girls

I have never outgrown my love for making mud pies or letting the mud squelch between my toes as I walk barefoot through dirt.  I have been running roads exclusively for the last six weeks and have dearly missed the trails.  Hagg Lake 25K was just what I needed.  Not only would I get my beloved trails, I'd also get dirty!  I like this well-run, scenic, fun race so much that it's on my annual race calendar. 

My race buddy, Danuta (aka Downhill Dirt Diva) and I left Eugene at o'dark thirty for a three hour drive to Gaston (near Forest Grove) where the race would take place in Scoggins Valley Park.  This year, amazing race directors, Kelly, Eric, Todd and Marianne staged the race on two separate days.  50Kers had first crack at the trail around Hagg Lake the previous day in frigid bi-polar weather conditions.  It was now the 25Kers turn.  How bad could it be?  I had run this race before. Sure it was muddy, but only in sections.  I had a blast last time I ran it.  These folks must be exaggerating when they use the words like "relentless" and "epic" to describe this year's Hagg mud.

My primary goal was beat my last race's 3:08 time.  Doing so would require that I maintain a 10:18 pace over 15-1/2 miles.  No sweat!  I've been running WAY faster than that these days.  I would tackle this race like one of the many long progression runs that I've been doing on the roads.  Nice and easy at the beginning, gradually building up speed and then flying through the finish line.  That was the plan.

Isn't my shirt cute?! LOVE it!

The first mile and a half is my least favorite part of the course.  It's an out and back up on a gravel road.  Little did I know that this was one of the few sections where I would have footing solid enough on which to run.  I should have appreciated it while I had the chance!  On the downhill section, Danuta took off.  I wouldn't see her again until the finish. Go girl!

I heard the first hill before I saw it.  Joyful whoops sounded as runners descended the hill of viscous mud.  By the time that I got there, there was a pile up at the top.  I was a bit frustrated to be slowed down.  I had a pace to maintain, dammit!  A PR to protect!  Why are these people STOPPED at the top of hill?  I watched the various descents.  Some fearlessly careened down, others gingerly baby-stepped their way to the bottom and the rest said "fuck it", and slid down on their asses before they had the chance to fall on them.  Alright! The fun has BEGUN!  There would be several more of such hills.  Going up was equally challenging.

My mud encrusted calf.

I marveled at the varieties of mud on this seemingly innocent trail.  There was thick mud, sticky mud, slimy mud, soupy mud, mud of all colors, and mud accessorized with grass, gravel, rocks, sticks, pine needles, roots and blackberry vines.  Just as soon as I figured out how to navigate one type, I encountered the next.  By mile eight, I was tired and discouraged.  I wasn't able to keep the pace I had intended. So much for my progression run tactic.  Ha!  My legs were toast.  I looked like a drunken ice skater wading through banana peels.

I talked to myself more than I have in any other race: 

Angrily at the top of my lungs: "This ISN'T running!  This is just ridiculous!" "Are you KIDDING me?!" "Enough with the mud already!"

In a whimpering baby voice: "I just want to be done." "Why do I do this to myself?" "Where's the aid station? I need a potato chip." "Why?"

Stoically:  "I just want to run."  "You're just tired."  "You can still PR."

In a sing-songy voice:  My apologies to Yukon Cornelius, Simon and Garfunkle and School House Rock.  "Just put one foot in front of the other...",  "Slip, slip sliding away, slip, slip sliding a-way...  You know the nearer your destination, the more you slip sliding away.","It's just a hill. Yes, it's only a hill."

The most impressive trail runner's tan I've ever had.  

The two aide stations were run by friendly volunteers and were well-stocked.  Thank you RDs and their minions!  I noshed on PBJ on white bread, potato chips, bananas, oranges and threw in a couple packets of Gu for good measure.  This kind of running (and I use the term loosely) took a lot of energy.  Much to my chagrin, the bite valve on my hydration pack broke.  This left me thirsty and carrying unnecessary weight on my back.  This just was not turning out to be my day.

I was tired of the mud sabotaging my ability to run.  I would take one step and slide back half the distance.  So much effort went into covering such little ground.  The first half of the race I kept a 10:34 pace but the second half a 11+ pace.  I got so clumsy out there on my fatigued legs that I'd have to stop and collect myself.  Then I'd come to my senses and start back up again  I fell, I flailed, I ran through puddles to release the mud's grip on my feet and I would never run this race again!

Do not wear this kind of shoe to Hagg.  You WILL not have enough traction.
I think my Montrail Masochists with their huge lugs on the soles would have served me better.

When I hit the road 1/4 mile from the finish, I scraped and flung frisbee-sized mud cookies off my shoes.  How long had I been running with those ankle weights?!  Then I followed the sounds of cheering spectators and ringing cowbells.  I finished that blasted race in 2:52, a 17 minute PR.  My race buddy commented on how happy I looked as I crossed the finish line. "Yeah, that's because I'm done!" I told her.

Hagg Lake has awesome post-race grub.  Grilled cheese sandwiches, two kinds of hot soup, cookies, hot dogs, veggie dogs, chips and soda were just a few of the recovery food options. I don't think I care to ever do that race again, I thought as I shivered under my space blanket stuffing my face.  We were impressed with the sheer volume of mud that our bodies, clothes and shoes collected.  This afternoon's shower was going to feel SO good!  It turned out I had to take a nail brush to my bod to get it all off. 

By that evening, after hearing and telling war stories, the grueling aspects of the race began to fade.  The fun parts took over.  Watching strangers pushing each other's butts up muddy hills, seeing a runner take down another runner like a bowling ball when s/he toppled down the hill, laughing at the ridiculousness of choosing to run in that muck, and most of all being in a gorgeous setting with awesome folks running (eating and talking) for hours on end.  By that evening, I was sure that I would continue making my annual pilgrimage to Hagg Lake to play in the mud.  How could I possibly resist?

Let the Games Begin!

Favorite wetland view from this morning's sweet bike ride with my daughters

So what's in store for me from today until the next, well, I don't know, say EIGHTEEN weeks?  Let the countdown begin!  I am officially two weeks away from Hagg Lake 25K trail race, eight weeks away from the Beaver Freezer sprint triathlon, ten weeks away from Corvallis Half Marathon, fifteen weeks away from the Duckbill Thrill Olympic distance triathlon and (drum roll, please!) eighteen weeks away from Boise 70.3!  Bring it! It's so good that I'm not a man. I would be engaging in some serious testosterone-enriched chest bumping and primal grunting right now.  What can I say?  I'm stoked!  It's hard to think about anything else.

I've got my horsey blinders on and I see nothing in front of me other than my plans and goals.  It's all business here.  Each and every workout has an uber-specific purpose.  I friggin' love it!  I know, I'm no elite athlete or anything but I sure like acting like one.  It won't take long for folks to be tired of my self-centered jockish ways.  Sorry, I can't go out with you tonight.  I have to wake up early for a gazillion mile progression run at time warp speed.  Yeah, no. I don't drink. Impacts my workouts too much.  Hell no! I ain't eating that! Are you kidding me?! I'd be paying for it at mile nine or lap 26.  I really need that extra sleep. Where the hell are my compression socks? Will you give me a massage? Can I please steal a nap this afternoon?

Here's what I did in my final week of unregimented training bliss:

 Monday:

• 6 mile progression run with my half marathon performance group. 2 mile w/u then cut down 20 seconds every two miles finishing with 8:20 pace. Dang, that felt way harder than it should have. Why? Was I still feeling effects from long, fast run? Remember all those LSDs? They are a thing of the past.

• Was going to swim 800m but my gym pool had other plans. I don't know all the details but was a bit peeved to discover that the water level was lower than usual and had a hose that sprayed  freezing cold water that shot across a lane and into my face.  I tried to suck it up or at least dive under the frigid water but after six laps, I just couldn't take it anymore! I retreated to the hot tub.  I watched the maintenance guy pace around the pool.  I got up enough nerve to ask him if there was any chance he'd kindly turn that (fucking) hose off?  He looked at me like I was nuts. "(HELL), no, it would destroy the pump if the water level dropped any further." I didn't quite see the relevance of his argument. Oh well, these things happen. Time to put on my flexibility hat.  I was tired from my run anyway.

•  30 minutes of weight training.  "I be up in the gym just working on my fitness" ~Fergie

Tuesday:

• unplanned, unscheduled and highly-fretted over rest day. House was a flippin' mess, kids needed  attention and the report cards were not going to finish themselves.  

Wednesday:

• 17.2 mile/1hr 10 min bike ride in the sunshine. Used my handy dandy new cadence sensor to  keep my RPMs up at/near 100 range. Wow. That little gadget is going to help decrease those slow, luxurious rides.

Life Behind Bars (a sentence I'll take)

Thursday:

• 6 mile run. w/u, 12X400s at 5Kpace 7:34 min/mi, c/d.
• 800 m/20 min swim. Came to the conclusion that I need a swim coach to help me move to the next level in terms of form and speed. Recommendations gladly accepted! The two folks that I contacted aren't going to pan out.

Friday:

• rest day. I was going to make up for Wednesday's unplanned rest day, but decided what the hay? I want to be fresh for tomorrow's long progression run with group.

Saturday:

• 9 mile/1hr20min run with my super awesome half marathon training group from whom I'm learning so very much. Nice easy warm up makes the world of difference before cranking it up to marathon, half marathon and then 10k speed. Started at conservative 9:15 min/mi, bumped up every couple miles and finished at 8 min/mi (at Hayward Field nonetheless!) Felt like a million bucks!
• 45 minute weight training and core session. Skipped what was supposed to be my long swim in order to relieve my hubby from kid-duty.  He needed to squeeze in a workout before we took our plus two extra kiddos to the women's college basketball game. Hooyah!

Sunday:

• 6-1/2 kid-free hours = date afternoon/evening! What might a couple do on a sunny Sunday afternoon?  How's about a 29 mile/2hr4min bike ride complete with rolling hills, views of two rivers and Reese's Peanut Butter Cup refuel at half way point? While I'm delighted that my man is getting into cycling, I'm also a little miffed that he had more power on a bike than me after he had run 20 miles just hours earlier. JERK! ;-)  The rest of the date is highly confidential, but I will mention that I was so relaxed by the end of it, that I actually took my pulse to make sure I still had one.  That was before my Sunday evening glass of red wine.  Now that's how you wrap up a week.

Mid-ride snack nearly as sweet as my honey

Grand total. Just the facts, m'am:

• 67.27 miles 
• 8hrs 8mins
• 3 runs
• 2 each: cycle, swim, lift/core

Join My Mutual Weirdness Love Fest

by Anonymous Guest blogger

I was running the other day and had one random musing after another.  Mind you, they weren't profound, serious, spiritual thoughts.  Rather, they were silly, odd, embarrassing things that pinballed around in my ADD running brain.  I will forewarn you, some of these are TMI or too socially taboo to share in mixed company.  In fact, some of my regular running buddies would never look at me the same if they knew this crazy shit.  To protect myself and family's privacy, I asked Trail Smitten Mom not to reveal my identity.

I couldn't just keep these thoughts to myself.  As a public service, I felt compelled to put them out in the blogosphere.  As the wise, Dr. Seuss said, “We are all a little weird and life’s a little weird, and when we find someone whose weirdness is compatible with ours, we join up with them and fall in mutual weirdness and call it love.” I am sure I am not alone in my weirdness.  I welcome personal stories or perhaps even validation that you too, dear readers have had similar thoughts or experiences.

Without further ado, I present my random, most intimate string of thoughts:

• Is it just me or do other people get sick to their stomachs when they put on their sports bra for afternoon runs? 

• Is it just me or do other people brush their teeth before early morning workouts only when they're meeting friends?

• Is it just me, or do other people have the secret desire to pass anyone who has a larger ass then they?

• Is it just me or have other people gone to a track workout with the intention of burning rubber and instead ended up with skid marks in their tights? 

• Is it just me or have other people gotten a hemorrhoid after taking shit in the woods on a trail run?

• Is it just me or do other people sneak peeks and admire the bodies of those who are physically fit? If you get caught, tell them your stud muffin partner's birthday is coming up and ask them where they got their swim suit, bike shorts or running tights so you know where to shop for your honey.

• Is it just me or have other women checked their "Period Tracker" app before registering for a race?

• Is it just me or do other people have the inability to say/hear fartlek without cracking a smile?

•  Is it just me or have other people taken advantage of construction site portapotty? 

• Is it just me or do other people think that ice baths are the perfect mixture of pleasure and pain?

• Is it just me or have other people squeezed Gu on top of a bowl of ice cream when they were out of chocolate syrup? 

So lovelies, this is your chance to share your mutual weirdness. Let's fill up the comments with additional "Is it just me or..." statements.  C'mon, don't leave me hanging.  Let's share some mutual weirdness, and call it love!

70.3 Training Plan in a Nutshell

I read, researched and tried out several plans before settling on "Super Simple Ironman 70.3 Triathlon Training Plan"  by Matt Fitzgerald.  As a full-time (then some!) working mom, I don't have a whole lot of time or flexibility when it comes to my schedule.  I needed something easy to remember and follow that didn't require countless pages to sift through each of the six days of the week that I would be training.

What I love about this plan is that my week follows a predicable schedule. I have set days, rather than rotating days to swim, bike and run. An added bonus is that my plan has short and sweet descriptions of my swim, bike and run routines. The whole plan fits on three pages and doesn't require that I look at multiple pages at the same time to determine what I'm supposed to do for the day or even the week.  This drove me CRAZY with a couple other plans I tried on for size.  All the codes, charts, text, etc. that made up "the plan" was too confusing for this gal.  C'mon folks, I have have two different teaching positions that make up my professional life, I serve 82 students, I have a pair of twins to love and nurture, a household to run, and countless other things already on my plate.  I need a KISS (keep it simple stupid) plan.  According to Fitzgerald, I can get away with this for my half Iron.  He better be right!

This plan gradually builds up over three weeks then provides a recovery week before gearing back up again.

Monday:  6 to 9 mile RUN with speed focus + SWIM (starting at 800 yards and building to 2000 yards, include sprints)

Tuesday: weight training and core work + 45 to 60 minute SPIN class

Wednesday: rest

Thursday: 3 to 6 mile RUN on the track or  doing hill work + SWIM (starting at 800 and building to 1600 yards, partially at race pace)

Friday: 40 minute BIKE or SPIN + weight training and core work

Saturday: long RUN (8 to 17 miles, usually progression run and/or running at half/marathon pace) + long swim (starting at 800 yards and building to 2400 yards, partially at race pace)

Sunday: long BIKE (20 to 50 miles) + transition run every other week

Training Plan, Sweet Training Plan

Training plans... I peruse them like magazines fresh from the mail box or well-loved books.  All of my workouts fit neatly into the boxes of my calendars and spreadsheets.  I love order and structure!  A training plan is just that.  Each day leading up to my culminating event is mapped.  I find great comfort in that.  I study my training plan with rapt attention. I go over it with a fine toothed comb. What kind of modifications might need to be made? Where might there be room for flexibility?  Am I capable of carrying out the plans with my already full mothering and working schedule? How might my social life and housekeeping be squeezed in? Are my goals too easy, just right or overly ambitious?

If the layperson looked at my pile of papers, they would see a nothing more than a mess of jargon, acronyms and cryptic formulas.  I find this information irresistible.  It reads like poetry.  Ladder: w/u 3mi; 400, 800, 1600, 800, 400, 200. 10K pace up and 5K pace down. Surges, progressions, fartleks, intervals, pull buoys, cadence, RPMs, 30 sec recovery, HM pace, M pace, at 90% of HR.  Once my kiddos are tucked into bed, I reach for my training file.  I sift through, read, reread and try to make my training plans mesh with my life plans.  My stack of fiction and pile of magazines collect dust during training season. My movie queue sits dormant. Depending on the event I'm training for, these papers map out my life for the next 18 to 30 weeks.

Each week my partner, an ultra-runner/budding triathlete and I meet for negotiations. I am ridiculously lucky to have a partner with whom to share household and parenting duties. The happiness and well-being of our family requires an equitable distribution of labor and on-going communication.  We support and encourage each other, but at the same time hold firm on our individual needs.  If I want to trade workout days with Steve, I better come up with a tempting option to make it worth his while.  "Hey, babe. I really want to run with this group, but they happen to be running on Sunday morning. I know that Sunday mornings are yours, but would you be willing to trade Sunday for Saturday?" I carefully watch his face to see if he's willing to be flexible. If it looks like he's having to chew on the offer, I'll offer a bonus, "And, I'll also give you Friday morning to spin and lift at the gym." Such conversations are not unlike a competitive game of poker. "I'll see you your Sunday morning and raise you Friday."  For the most part, we are both able to get what we want and need. Sometimes one little tweak; a sick child, an appointment or travel plans, sends the whole house of cards flying. Then it's back to the drawing board.

My latest training plan includes a 25K trail run, a sprint triathlon, a half marathon, an Olympic triathlon and a half Ironman.  It's the most ambitious, complicated, time-consuming training plan I've ever had. I love it!  I can't stop looking at it, thinking about it and fine-tuning it. It's both exciting and daunting. As if the variables of work, kids, hubby-in-training and my multi-sport training aren't enough to muddy the waters, toss in hours of operation of my gym, lap swim schedule, limited daylight hours and fair weather for cycling, days and times of coach-led track workouts, availability of friends with whom to share workouts! It's quite the feat to come up with let alone carry out such a complicated plan.

So what is it about this challenge that appeals to me?  I enjoy making sense of nonsense, organizing things that seem destined for chaos, teaching children whom others have given up hope.  Reaching for athletic goals that seem much larger than I seems to fall right into this mix.  Perhaps Walt Disney said it best, "It is kind of fun to do the impossible." 

Best wishes to you readers as you go about your training plan and pursue your goals.
TSM

Ice, Ice, Baby

I seriously suffered from DOMS (delayed onset muscle soreness) while training for my first marathon. Remember the old Tums commercial where they sing, Tums, Tums, Tums, Tums, TUMS!?  My husband and I like to sing DOMS, DOMS, DOMS, DOMS, DOMS! We're athletically nerdy that way.  I smartened up while training for my second marathon.  Anytime I ran longer than 12 miles, I took an ice bath.  I was pleased to discover that it kept the soreness at bay.  Over the last couple years, I've refined my technique so that this experience is as pleasant as possible. By golly, I actually enjoy them now.

You'll need:

• 24 pounds of ice
• a down jacket
• a warm fuzzy hat
• a mug filled with your favorite piping hot beverage
• reading material to distract you 
• a bathtub
• a timer

1. Fill your tub with enough tepid water to fully cover your legs, butt and hips.
2. Pull on your hat and jacket. Set your hot drink, reading material and timer on the tub ledge. Have your bags of ice next to the tub.
3. Sit in the tub, relax and let the water cool down. Adding the ice will be less of a shock if your body slowly adjusts to the temperature change.
4. Pull a bag of ice in the tub with you, undo the twist tie and gently empty the first bag at your feet. Repeat with second bag but this time empty it onto your legs. Finally add the last bag to your glute region. You can also have a loved one dump the ice on top of you. I like to do it myself. I enjoy pouring the ice on my husband. He has the greatest facial expressions and says kooky things like "My boys! My boys!" In a voice a few octives higher than his normal voice.
5. Set the timer for 15-20 minutes. Trust me, you don't want to be in there any longer than necessary. They say that time range is perfect. Any less, it's not effective. Any more, is overkill.
6. Sit back, sip your hot drink and read your book or magazine until the timer goes off.

The stuff

My upper body

Lower body

 How are ice baths healing?

According to an article in Runner's World:
Cryotherapy ("cold therapy") constricts blood vessels and decreases metabolic activity, which reduces swelling and tissue breakdown. Once the skin is no longer in contact with the cold source, the underlying tissues warm up, causing a return of faster blood flow, which helps return the byproducts of cellular breakdown to the lymph system for efficient recycling by the body. "Ice baths don't only suppress inflammation, but help to flush harmful metabolic debris out of your muscles," says David Terry, M.D., an ultrarunner who has finished both the Western States 100-Mile Endurance Run and the Wasatch Front 100-Mile Endurance Run 10 consecutive times.

If you haven't yet tried one, I encourage you to give it a go! 15 minutes of slight discomfort will prevent days of muscle soreness and may prevent injury. Cold rivers and lakes are excellent substitutes for ice baths when you're out on the trails.  Enjoy your ice, ice baby!