My Inconvenient Truth

Ugh.

I don't know, Al...you sure about this global warming thing?

I'm in a pickle. This week, I've been totally landlocked since Tuesday night. My wonderful new(smelling) car is frozen to the ground. Okay, not really to the ground, but completely locked in place by the slow moving iceberg that formed underneath it over the course of Wednesday. The municipal plow company didn't help the sit-cheation at all by sealing the deal with their plows-of-perpetual-frustration.

Ugh.

So, I've been without my Y for nearly three days. THREE DAYS!! I'm woefully behind on my swimming (okay, missed one session...but still!) and I really, really want to go outside for a run. A real run. Not a treadmill hour of pain in the basement. An honest to goodness run in the outdoors.

Sigh.

I'm only 4:04 into my week plan of 8:17 hours training. Damnable weather! I'm hoping to get my car off it's perch on the tundra and to the Y before they close the pool tonight. Mighty M is off with the boys playing Texas Hold-Em, so I can play a little on my own with zero guilt.

I guess it's time for some flexibility here...something about worrying about the things you can control, and letting go of those you can't...

For my own sanity, I think it's time to invest a tiny bit on this little gift so I can go out and play in the snow like a real runner, not some treadmill monkey in the basement. Yeah, these would be nice...

But don't worry...I LOVED the feeling of finishing last week strong, so there's no way I'm falling short this week -- ice storm or no ice storm! Watch out!!

Are you feelin' it, baby? I. Can. Too.

Something clicked this weekend.

It wasn't the goal reaching and perdy nail painting, although that was fun.

It wasn't, exactly, the 10 hours of training I managed without injury, fatigue, or childlike hissy fits on the floor.

It wasn't, quite, that I was able to (for the first time in FOREVER) meet each and every planned session without killing myself.

And, I don't think it was the personal swimming bests or "Wow, nice stroke" or running and stretching beyond cramps.

At least, I don't think so.

Whatever it was, something clicked last weekend. Just fell into place, like a fine swiss watch.

I'm actually going to do this. I really, really am.

It has been so easy to get caught up with making fancy hands distractions for myself -- crafting the charity website, researching training plans, and checking out this site or that site for guidance. In a way, I think I've been trying to distract myself just a wee bit so I can try this Iron Lifestyle on for size and see how it feels.

And, the conclusion is...it feels good.

Real good.

Last Saturday, I spent some hours at the gym getting through my last handful of tasks before finishing up the week's responsibilities. And when I came home, I was SO INCREDIBLY ENERGIZED by the whole thing! My body felt great. My mood was over the moon.

I was just plain, old happy. So very happy. And it came from inside -- from me. Not from anything I bought or borrowed. Nothing I consumed. Nothing lived through another. Nothing at all adulterated.

Just happy.

And, for the first time, I really thought, "This is something you can do!" I really can do this exceptional thing called Ironman. I can do the organization and discipline parts. I can juggle my personal and emotional needs. I can avoid the pitfalls I know will be placed in my way.

It's all possible, people. All of it. You think it isn't for so long, but that's not true. If you spend the time and put yourself out there, honestly and fully, it absolutely is possible to live your dream life.

This is my dream life. This is what I always wanted. This is what I deserve. My history has taught me valuable lessons, but I've moved forward with only what I choose to take.

I wanted this badly enough to remove the counterintuitive and counterproductive. And now I'm there. Now I'm doing it.

Can you feel it, baby?

I. Can. Too.

Tagged!

My favorite Mom from Texas tagged me, so I'm off to the races with this little nod to the alphabet. Enjoy!

A — Available or Married? Um...neither? For tax purposes, I'm single. But, thankfully my full-time Race Sherpa/Dish Washer/Match.com Success Story (Mighty M) came along about a year ago. Do I hear bells in the distance? Oh...wait, maybe that's ringing in my ear from the swim...hmmm...

B — Best Friend? I have too many to have one. I'm lucky. Really lucky. But I wouldn't trade my sister for anything in the world -- she's just simply wonderful.

C — Childhood memory? Playing hide and seek in the woods near my house, climbing the broad tree in our backyard with my sister, hearing the sound of piano washing through the house every day I came home from school...it's such a long list...

D — Drink of choice? Crystal Light Fruit Punch. Nummy...

E — Essential Item? Just one??? Alright, fine...um, probably a cup of Dunkin Donuts coconut coffee with cream and splenda, please. Dad is convinced I just carry it around with me everywhere, and forget to drink it along the way. I actually do drink it...once it cools down properly to the perfect temp. I'm picky. A little.

F — Favorite Color? Purple. Definitely purple. Or sage green. I like green, too. Reds and burgundies are nice, too.

G — Gummi Bears or Worms? WORMS

H — Hometown? West Chester, PA. A way cute town outside of Philadelphia that, much to our surprise, actually just made the top whatever list of best towns by the Historical Society. For me, it's full of great memories and there's always someone I know from way back around the corner. I spent so many years of my young adult life seeking happiness elsewhere -- what a surprise it was to find it right here, in my old back yard.

I— Indulgence? Cooking -- I can't resist a beautiful steak or bright, fresh asparagus. Whole foods make me happy. Chopping veggies is therapy for me. Thank goodness M is content doing the dishes!

J — January or February? Either...my real joy is in the summer months.

K — Kids and Names? None yet, but we've done the truly annoying thing of talking about names before, um, we're even engaged?! Isabelle and Sabina. I'm convinced we'll have only girls, so it'll be a scramble if there's a boy in the picture!

L — Last Lipid profile results? Fantastic. Fried foods don't do it for me. (Whew!)

M — Marriage Date? Wouldn't *I* like to know!

N — Number of Siblings? One -- a fabulous and terribly successful sister, who just landed an incredible new job in DC. As always, preparing her steps towards world domination!

O — Oranges or Apples? Apples. Every day.

P — Phobias/Fears? Joints and kneecaps. Ugh!! I can't stand seeing people move them or play with them or hyper extend them....blah! I don't know if it comes from worrying about it as a young violinist (who was forever worried about breaking a finger or busting a joint), or just because they're plain gross. I think it's mainly because they're gross. Just plain gross.

Q — Favorite Quote? "Go confidently in the direction of your dreams! Live the life you have imagined." Thoreau. Certainly easy advice to read...putting it into action is the challenge!

R — Reason to Smile? My life with M. Hands down. Just walking through our front door and seeing him can wipe away an entire day of stress. Normally, I'm articulate, but trying to describe my life with him leaves me speechless. Love. Him.

S — Season? Summer. It always means time with family at the beach and the perpetual pursuit of the perfect tan and quiet naps. More recently, memories of early Sunday morning drives to races and car trips with Mighty M. Nothing too bad seems to ever happen in the summer for me...knock on wood.

T — Tag 3 People! Okay, so I'm going to be a spoiled sport and tag everyone who wants to do their own alpha assessment! It's fun...go for it!

U — Unknown Fact About Me? I used to be a part of a professional motorcycle drag racing team...no, seriously, I was! I was only support -- not a racer! -- but we traveled all over the East coast for about 7 years. Such a fun time and amazing people! Plus, it pays to know a little about a four-stroke engine now and again...if only to impress....

V — Vice? Right now, it's caffeine. Definitely caffeine.

W — Worst Habit? Bossy bossy bossy.

X — X-terra or regular tri? Regular is fine for me...I have this horrible image of me flipping my bike backwards while clipped in, going up some ridiculous incline. (And the pic on Iron Kahuna's recent post doesn't help much!) For this year, regular is fine-by-me.

Y — Favorite food? Steak. Medium Rare. Filet, preferably. MMMMM.

Z — Zodiac sign? Libra. And, seriously, folks, I actually am really very measured and balanced! No, really, I am!

E.N.O.U.G.H. S.A.I.D.

Before...



and after




Thanks, M!!

Fit for press

So, an update on the great challenge and various sundry developments...

• Six sessions down...5 to go. Bike/run tonight, and then Swim/Lift/Run tomorrow. I don't really think of them like 5 sessions... more like two -- two times I stink up laundry and need to take a shower to be tolerable. Even if I kayaked, juggled, lifted ice blocks, and then took a jog...if I only needed one shower, it only counts as one session. Regardless, by tomorrow afternoon, it's all about hot wax and buffed cuticles.
  

• Today (and I kid you not) *I* actually was complimented on my stroke. I. Swear. After all of my blah, blah, blahing about the Wednesday Friday guy (who, incidentally, was in the lane right next to mine today), little ole me got the compliment. (blush) Not from WednesdayFriday guy, but still.
  

• Buoys rock my world. Not David Bowie. Buoys. Sounds the same, but not the same. I'm starting to get much more confident of breathing on the right using one. No buoy? Sink like a rock. Buoy? I rock.
  

• Smart training in shorter periods is better than being a bonehead in search of duration. And once you get over the numbers, it feels just as good.

• I know I've ranted about drills recently, but I'm still in love with them. Currently, my swim drills and I are having an illicit affair. NOBODY MENTION THIS TO MIGHTY M. I love the catch-up and one-arm-at-a-time and finger drag. I even made up my own drill to fix my obsessive need to stare straight ahead when I'm swimming. It's my chin drill. It's fancy.

• Oh, and speaking of drills -- I CAN TOTALLY DO THE ONE-LEGGED CYCLING DRILL NOW and I'M SO EXCITED ABOUT THIS!! I can't believe I waited until the 6th bullet to mention it. Practice does pay.

• My perpetually broke self found a ridiculously cheap metric century ride to go on in April. The Taxing Metric and it's $20, with sag support and nummy food stations. Booyah!
  

• Enough with the cold, okay? Enough.

That's all that's fit for press.

Is that a challenge?? Huh, punk?? You challengin' me??

Oh, he di-ent.

Nooo, he di-eeent.

But, yes he did.

Last night I caaasually mentioned to Mighty M that I was thinking about a little reward system for this week for myself. I'm on my new Training Peaks plan, and it has quite a few more sessions each week then my flybytheseatofmypants plan I was making up as I went. So, knowing my proclivity for bartering with myself in the morning when the alarm goes off and the propensity of my life to blow up at least once each week, I figured a little wager was in order.

IF I make all my sessions for the week, THEN I will treat myself to an eyebrow wax.

(And, frankly, people, I'm due. It is definitely time for some TLC up there on that brow of mine. I think I saw an icicle hanging from the left one yesterday.)

So, M hears this and ups the challenge, the crafty man he is. He'll match my brow wax and raise me a mani or pedi for a 100% week.

Did he really just bet me a manicure that I can't finish the week of training? Did he REALLY JUST DO THAT???

Get out your checkbook, M. I'm all over this challenge. I have something like 8 sessions between me and some perdy nails and some perdy brows.

Now THAT'S what I call motivation.

Shame

[I'm often asked what it means to be an alcoholic. How is it possible to be otherwise solidly rational, yet repeatedly make bad decisions that are guaranteed to hurt yourself or those close to you. Didn't I understand how dangerous and destructive my behavior was? Didn't I know that there were better choices? And of course I did understand and I absolutely knew the impact of my behavior. But, by the time it reached the point of destruction, I was no longer under my control.

This is, of course, a departure from triathlon. But it's a way for me to illuminate my personal history. And, just maybe, help those out there trying to understand how even a smart, capable person can drink themselves into near oblivion.

And sometimes it's just important to remember where you're coming from in order to make it to where you're going.]

______________

I hate to feel vulnerable. To feel exposed and perused, critiqued and judged. I fear it for reasons you may expect – I worry I won’t meet expectations or be a disappointment to anyone who cares. I have carried these worries around since childhood, tucked away from sight and rarely mentioning them to even my closest confidants. I think if I considered it carefully, I would have realized that I wore these emotions on my sleeve – that my fears were as easily identifiable as my behaviors were predictable. But I thought I hid them well, even craftily. Of course I didn’t. Such is irony.

I remember so little clearly from my childhood, and often envy those who have bright and crisp memories of both the banal and monumental experiences. But I do have certain moments that stuck in time for me, that I can still feel the air around my body and the emotions in my bones. The clearer memories are often the most evocative ones – those that elicited some new reaction or emotional response. The fuzzier ones bear witness to moments of comfort and careless joy, love and acceptance. I carry those with me as well, but they’re in a different suitcase.

I remember as a child wanting to live up to expectations – to those expectations of my parents, my teachers, my music instructors, and my extended family. One slip, one deviation from the expected or the hoped for would send my small body into a tail spin. I remember clearly my fourth grade social studies class – the last hallway of classes towards the road, down the hall, past the bathrooms, and on the left. I can’t remember the teacher in detail or by name, but simply his form. He was small, diminutive, with soft edges and a fuzzy balding head. He wore cardigans and bow ties. He used a pointer with a cream colored rubber tip on a pull down map that would rumble and shake with each articulation. I sat in the very middle of the class and learned the continents and basic geography. I remember knowing where Europe was and having no idea where anything was in East Asia. To be honest, I’m still pretty hazy on that area of the world to this day.

These details are fused with me through memory from one moment in time. I had received a failing grade, passed back from the student ahead of me and the one ahead of her. I was shocked, affronted. I felt exposed and disappointed and confused…and fearful. I flushed directly. I sucked in a squeaked breath and my insides turned to jello. I was either going to vomit or have diarrhea, or likely both. My fear had liquefied my insides like a destructive acid, invisible to the other students, but burning a fire throughout my torso. I desperately feared disapproval. I feared admonition. But, mostly, I feared being found out. My body revolted at the possibility. Having my shame exposed, my inadequacies confirmed. For public confirmation of being an outsider, not belonging. I somehow knew that I was that one thing that did not belong with the others.

I never learned what to do with those feelings, how to manage them. I bore down and pushed through the emotion. I ranted and raved against the feeling and tore into my parents, looking for response. I quietly consumed the confirmation and felt full with my own frustration. As a child I could not find the words, I only experienced the raw emotion. As an adult, I did not realize it needed articulation, no one told me life didn’t have to feel that way. I thought my fears and worries were an approximation of real life. I thought that this unmentionable measurement against the rest of my world was both private and unique, but shameful.

The anxiety was exhausting. I was twisted up with anticipated expectations and imprecise rules. I was a constant barometer, measuring others approval in casual glances and subtext. I never knew what I should be, or how to do that. I saw the ease with which my friends floated through life and I compared my own toppled insides. I never felt appropriate, so I always did the appropriate thing. I never felt like an insider, so I craved belonging. I continued to be convinced that there was something inherently wrong with me – so deeply connected with something I did wrong or was foolish about years ago and long forgotten. Something so wrong that I could never allow that fear from social studies, the fear from camps and middle school dances, the fear from acne and double chins…that cumulative construction of my conclusion of ineptitude.

So I hid. I hid myself. I hid my fears. I hid my progressive shame. And as an adolescent I was awkward, yet gifted. I was told of my talent but terrified of whispering in corners. And it was fine to be awkward, for a time. Through college plowed through the emotion again, revolting against my own potential, convincing myself that it was a farce or some cruel construct placed on me by fate.

I hid from commitment, I hid from responsibility. I hid from any challenge that may reveal my true adequacies. I hid from my own potential and progress.

And it was exhausting. Exhausting and lonely. So I drank. I drank with friends. I drank with family. I drank alone, after seeing friends and family. And I started to drink alone on weekends, and then during the week. I hid bottles, and then boxes, of wine in drawers and closets. I planned my life around my mistress, my dirty secret.

I coveted the warm surge of wine soaked belonging. I could feel graceful and thin, gracious and uniquely beautiful. I could feel like a jewel and loved. Without question, my intoxicated self was intoxicating. I was addicted to her -- her without the weight of insecurities. Her, who had style and grace, said all the right things and found creative ways to engage and elicit. Her.

And I coveted. Those moments were mine, all mine. I knew the key and knew it's price. And I was willing. Willing to pay the price of loss, disappointment, and failed promises to have those moments that far outweighed my reality. Those moments of complete levity and release. I had eyed those emotions -- those great crests of confidence and beauty -- dolefully from behind a glass partition. Wine crashed through the resistance and allowed me to bathe in it.

And, as you would expect, my life began to fade from view and slip away. The harder I pushed for that time alone, the more I had to trade for it. Every day was a compromise and every day capsuled a palatable failure. Every day I would promise myself that I didn't need this to be Her. And every day I was unable to find out, even for those few hours, what that would feel like. And every day I gave in. And each time it reminded me of why that was all I deserved.

______________

To be an alcoholic seems like an indulgence to those who don't experience the why. To skip out on responsibilities and add only the minimum required appears to be the easy way out -- a self centered exercise for all to see. And it angers and incites and frustrates. It harms and alters those in its wake. It spits on all the work you do -- your hard efforts, your good decisions.

But to an alcoholic, there is nothing indulgent about drinking. Nothing is ever enjoyed without taint -- every moment, stolen or earned, is poisoned with your own shame. Shame colors your own reflection and erodes the lining of your soul. Shame is the inevitable parasite that is barely tolerated as you barely make your way through the day. Shame answers back from the bottom of a toilet and through the din of a headache. Shame pierces your future and drains your promise. It is a lifestyle. It is an imperitive. It is an absolute and the only emotion you can manage to experience. Shame doesn't require articulation, it just is. And then, when you're not looking, it is what you have become.

I’m not that guy…am I?

Ugh, people. I think I turned into a creepy guy the other day at the pool.

And – TRUST ME – I’m usually really well adjusted and manage not to burp in public* or stare at people’s facial moles. Uuuusally I’m a totally sane, bring home to mom kind of gal.

This morning I think I crossed over to creepdom.

You know, I remember in law school a teacher saying in his wise but uber-friendly, let-me-put-you-first-years-at-ease (and-guarantee-you'll-like-me) way, that there is always that one person in the room. That one guy (or gal) who everyone takes note of...and not for a good reason. Keep asking stupid questions about nothingrelaventwhatsoever…and you’re that guy. Keep raising your hand when you’ve already spoken SIXTEEN TIMES TODAY…yup, you’re that gal. Make it clear to everyone in the room that you want to sleep with your professor, not learn from them…no DOUBT everyone in the class has your number.

And, if you don’t know who the “One” is…then it’s you.

Pretty darned sage advice, I think. At least it worked like magic in law school…

Anyway, I digress.

So, I get into the pool for my little endurance session and was really (REALLY) looking forward to not having to remember how many intervals or ladders or whatever I did. Warm up. 35 minutes even pace. Cool down.

Now even my sleep deprived brain can manage that task.

And all is cool because there is – literally – nobody in the pool. And I – literally – woke the lifeguard up from her NAP when I walked in. And about halfway through my set the WednesdayFriday guy comes in.

Now, I digress a little more. There are TuesdayThursday people who I’ve gotten used to in the pool, but recently I’ve found I’ve needed to do a makeup session on…you guessed it…a Wednesday or Friday. Go figure.

And there’s this guy who swims WednesdayFriday and is, well, ridiculously fast. I mean, I think his stroke count for one length is, like, 4 strokes or something ridiculous like that. He pushes off the wall and just motorboats it to the other end before the lifeguard even knew he was in the pool.

And his stroke is perfect.

I mean PERFECT.

Entry is practically silent. His arm is *always* at a 90 degree angle out of the water, elbow forward. He hands are perpetually cupped properly. His kick is silent but deadly.

And, guys, seriously. His pull is a thing of beauty.

Think I’m exaggerating? Meet me at the Y next Wednesday, around 7:00.

So, CLEARLY I have a thing for this guy’s stroke. Embarrassing, I know. But I do. And normally I just sneak glances here and there and think, "wow, he's pretty damned good at this stuff." You know, play it cool and all while checking out the pull from underwater.

But yesterday, I was trying so hard to make my form right, I just couldn't help but to STARE. I mean I just blatantly STARED at a complete stranger. A stranger in a speedo. In a practically public pool.

Ogled. Gawked. And -- likely -- creeped him the heck out. Who is this total weirdo? Why is she watching me swim? Good lord, lady...face front or get outta the pool!

(You know...I betcha he has a blog. I betcha he wrote about the creep in the pool who couldn't come up with enough to occupy her brain that she had to watch the show. I'm mortified in advance.)

Thankfully for both of us, my set was done before he called the cops...or at least notified the napping lifeguard. But I think I learned a lot about form from watching him. And maybe a little about boundaries. Possibly not as much about the boundary stuff as I should have. Next Wednesday's main set: exercising safe pool gawking boundaries. Do you think that's a preset in the TrainingPeaks library? I'll check...

* I make no promises about home. No. Promises. At. All.

Drill(ing a massive hole in my head)

Last year, my triathlon season was ALL ABOUT FUN.

Fun little 1000 meter jaunts in the pool. (How cool am I? Can you believe I just did that?) Long bikes out to Lancaster and back, through pretty farm country and at my own pace. (Those first hills are hard...good thing they're not all the way...) And a slow, but sure, gradual increase in my jog. (Yes, my jogs.)

Ah, yes. Triathlon bliss.

(ahem)

Enter Ironman Year...stage left.

(blink, blink)

I totally expected the volume increase. I TOTALLY got that. I even expected the higher frequency of sessions -- two sessions a day? Bring. It. On.

But I didn't expect the drills.

Oh. My. Goodness.

Last night, I had two drill sets for the bike. Okey, dokey folks. No problemo. Just hop up there and get my game on. And I did for the first one...I made it through just fine, but good grief was a sweating. Oh. Yeah. Pounding away like my run intervals...feeling a tad bit studly. So this is what they were talking about! Alright, I can do this.

So, time for a little one-legged spinning. Yup, I'll just unclip this one here...and, um...okay, there...I can balance it right up, yup, right there. Okay, round and

WHHHAAAA???

Um, it seems that I CAN'T SEEM TO GET MY LEFT LEG UP AND OVER ONE LOUSY CYCLE!! No. It can't possibly be this hard. I can't possibly be this weak. No way, Jose. I must be doing it wrong.

(Um, how could I be doing it wrong? Come on, bonehead. You turn the pedal in a circle. A circle. Come on...try it again.)

So I grunted and groaned. Sounds came out of me that were NOT HUMAN. I finally realized why they sell sweat guards for your trainer. My hands started cramping because I was gripping the aero pads for dear life. And I cussed. Cussed like a trucker. Cussed like a trucker who got six flats in the middle of a snowstorm in a cell-free zone.

I herked and I jerked. I slowly started to find a rhythm (nowhere NEAR the true definition of rhythm). I focused and watched my way through each stroke until I had some semblance of a cadence.

And I did 20 minutes of 30 counts left, 30 counts right, 30 counts left, 30 counts right.

And. So. On.

________________

People, I'm cool with admitting limitations. I bring self deprecation to an art form. I don't even take compliments all that well.

But I hate not being able to do something.

And now I'm pissed.

I'm pissed at drills. I'm pissed and they should know to WATCH THE ** OUT. I've got your number, you bastards. I'm going to take you to task ever single chance I get. I'm going to intervals and closed fist drills and one-legged spins and step ups until you bleed or I fall down...which ever comes first.

I've got your number.
I'm coming
Watch.
Out.

Week in Review

Okay, kiddos…here’s the dirt.

Some modest disappointment with my volume last week, but there were some key workouts accomplished and I think it was a perfect time (in retrospect) to scale back for a recovery week. I think my body needed it. And maybe my head, a little, too. No dramatic breakdowns, just a stressful week that I didn’t allow my training to make an emotionally disastrous one. And a nap on Sunday...not usually my m.o., so my body was saying something.

And, you know, (and this is totally an aside, but I think many of us grapple with the problem) I really believe that training hard or fulfilling your schedule’s plan when other stressors are begging your attention doesn’t pay off in the end. For me, at least, if I feel like I have to force a session in, I find the workout is always sub par and I mildly resent the process.

Here’s the numbers

• Actual Time: 6 hours 00 minutes
• Swim: 1600 yards
• Bike: 26.8 miles
• Run: 16.63 miles
• Strength: 1 session

Impression: light on all, but no one discipline suffered. There were a couple of important things that went down last week worth mentioning…

1) Money, money, money!! I was just ridiculously excited when we got our first contribution last week for the IM Able/Canine Partners for Life campaign!! A massive THANKS to Iron Jenny for taking the lead and making a wonderful contribution toward the work CPL does. And if you haven’t yet made it over to the charity site…GO THERE!! This organization does truly amazing things every day.

2) Garmin – I finally (!) got my Garmin software downloaded to the junk PC we have in the basement. (I’ve been fully converted to a Mac at home thanks to Mighty M’s persuasion and, in their infinite wisdom, Garmin doesn’t think it’s a financial priority right now to push their Mac software through the pipeline. Grumble.) I was actually a little disappointed in the interface – I thought it would be a little more fancy looking. Ah well, we can’t all be fancy. ;) It was fun looking at the elevation changes for my hills session and my bread and butter 5K in the neighborhood. Beeerie interbesting…

3) A new convert?? The scientologists would be so proud of me…I think I managed to spread the triathlon bug to a friend of mine, Beanie!! (Hi, Beans!) We had brunch at the diner from The Blob – no, really, this is right down the street from my house! – and I brought all my fanciest colored triathlon books and a couple starter books with beginning plans. And somewhere in the really fun three hour brunch, we managed to squeeze in a little tri talk. In fact, there was a guy who was sitting behind us who saw the books and asked about them. Turns out he’d done a triathlon a long time ago. How fun.

4) Key workout – Hills. You know how great it is to find that perfect route that fulfills one of your training needs…and it’s right around the corner? Yup, I founds me’z some HILLS!! There’s a beautiful easement near my home and it turns out to have some really good hills to train on. It’s just shy of a 2 mile course and has two 50-75 ft inclines that are pretty steep. All I know is that the first time around I couldn’t finish either one without stopping to walk, so this will be a great challenge for the future!

5) Key workout – Swim Time Trial. I’ve never done this before, and it was really informative. (Go figure!) Turns out that my average was about 2:23/100 meters, once my aged brain figured out the math. I’m going to work this in every four weeks or so to see how my speed progresses. I thought I was swimming faster, but turns out that I was just picking the wrong times on which to base my sets. My only concern was that this TT was during a week that I kind of kicked my own butt in the weight room and felt it for the rest of the week. A possible influence? Maybe, but in a way, who cares.

___________________

So, the plan for this week? This will be my embarkation to BASE LAND! This week is Base Week 1 and will include the six key workouts you would expect – an endurance and a power/speed session for each sport. I’m still working on how to plan the week so that I don’t set my schedule up for failure. There are just some things I can’t seem to fit in without some serious hurting going on. For example, Monday morning anything. My sleep is so completely messed up on Sunday nights that attempting to do an AM session the next day will never work. Why bother to pack the bag? It is, of course, still sitting in the guest room…now waiting for tomorrow. So, time for a little reality to settle in.

Oh, yeah...and posting more!

Be well, guys and gals!

Week in Review

With all of the excitement about the new website (what? you haven't been to the new website?! for shame...go there now...I'll wait), I forgot to do a week in review!

So, here goes it.

First: the numbers...

Actual Hours: 7:30 Planned Hours: 8:00 Swim: 1750 Bike: 65.8 Run: 14.89 Strength: 0:30 m

Last week was prep week two and IT FELT GREAT!! I was a little disappointed in my first week -- missing some sessions and being off the projected time. So, I was really pushing to get through the workouts and not push them off unless I had to. As always, I learned many things...

1) Strength training is STILL my weakest commitment. I know that I need this to improve power. I know that I need this to help support my knees and other joints, protecting me from injury. And I know that the AA stage is crucial. If I don't do this now, then I'm asking my body to do too much in the later months reserved for things like getting speedy. Now is the time. Carpe weightum...or something like that.*

2) Trying to run in Zone 1 is nearly impossible. Zone 2 should be reserved for inside, out of sight of neighbors or other friendly runners. Lock the doors, pull the shades, it's time for a recovery run. Backwards.

3) Heart rate zones. Gadgets are fun. Learning to use them is funner. I'm slowly starting to get some good readings from various runs to hone in on my true run and bike zones. I have a couple of sessions set up this week to help me -- a 1000 meter TT to find my average 100, a 30 minute moderate run to find my LT heart rate (according to Big Papa Joe), and a 30 minute ride (again under the tutelage of Big Papa Joe).

4) Missing a workout sucks. I'm almost more motivated to get through all the ones scheduled for one day just so I don't have to go through the trouble of figuring out when to do them later in the week. This week -- watch out planned hours! I've got YOU in my radar!

5) My fancy new knee brace has been a life saver. Just what I needed. I've had minimal (really...like almost none!) pain and been able to do 1:30 on the bike after 1:15 run with no problemo. Kudos for whoever thought this thing up! (Btw, I've been wearing it above my knee, not below, like in the picture.)

and

6) Finishing a strong workout makes me feel like a stud. Finishing a strong workout with intervals makes me feel like a super stud.

That's all from here. Now go check out the new website!!!



* As I type this, I'm pleased to say that I've already knocked off one session this week. I'm certainly sorer for the effort, but good grief it felt great! One more to go and that goal is accomplished.

Congratulations...IT'S A WEBSITE!!

I can't tell you how excited I am.

I am busting out of my britches with excitement and pride, and maybe a little dash of quiet relief. After many (many!) moons of talking about "the charity website" being in production, it is finally finished.

In all its glory, it is finally purchased, put together, and published...but maybe not totally polished yet.

Getting it off the ground took some wrestling with the hosting company as to the design application and a failed purchase of the domain on their part. It also took me some time to learn a completely different language (i.e., html) and MS Publisher, which has opened up a cool new techy world for me. Plus, there was some time to pull together the cool graphics for the banner (which I have to give proper kudos to Mighty M for his wonderful logo design) and the really fun bumper stickers and tee shirts to come.

Eeeeeeeny way...

It's DONE!

Yeah!

So, when you have some time between now and your next workout, please visit www.im-able.com, the new home of the IM Able charitable endeavors. I would love to hear your suggestions and ideas about the site.

Right now, though, I'm as proud as a peacock and can't wait for everyone to see it.

ENJOY!

Week in Review

Here's the low down on my first training week. I definitely enjoyed being back into a regimen, even when it meant facing down the cold pool in the morning or the hyper distraction of my 90th minute on the trainer. (Good grief, Shannon...3 hours on the trainer! You have the patience of a monk.)

Here are some of my reflections:

1) I'm not very good at estimating. I'm over estimating my swim times (based on projected meters in the set) and underestimating run times. So my actual vs. planned is a bit off, even though I was meeting my planned sets. Ah well, it'll shake out.

2) I have to FORCE MYSELF TO DO MY STRENGTH SESSIONS. I had the grand idea of being able to do an augmented set at home, but that doesn't really work. So, I have to force myself to make these sessions at the gym.

3) I must not have pushed myself at all last year. I say that because I've been able to retain so many things over the off season, with zero effort. For example -- last week I was swimming 100s in the 2:10 - 2:15 range. Not great, of course, but also not that far off from my training times last year (2:05). And that was my first swim session in months. Conclusion? I have the chance to get much faster this year, folks. Watch. Out.

4) Intervals are fun. I threw a couple of hard 5-minute segments into my long ride on Sunday and it was a blast. My cadence was high (125), my heart was pumping, and my legs were feeling it. What a total blast!

5) I need a new bike. I hate to say it, but it's time to sell something of value and save every penny. Now that Banana is up on a trainer and I'm not distracted by, say, drivers and road kill, I can really tell that it's set up for touring and not tri-ing. Upright is comfy. In the drops is not. Aerobars are awkward. But more importantly, is I am clearly losing power when I'm in aero. The bike is bouncing all over the place when I'm in the aeros, but smooth as silk when I'm upright. I'm reaching out way too far to even reach the bars and when there (because of the reach) I'm bouncing my thighs on my front. It's all bad. I've been eyeing up the Equinox 7 WSD at my local store. Maybe I can find a good one used and sell Banana...

6) BE FLEXIBLE. The future in-laws came over on Saturday for Mighty M's birthday celebration, bringing with them the most adorable two year old that ever lived. In-laws and bricks don't go well together, so don't even try it. Even Sunday involved helping my Dad out with the holiday decorations. So, be flexible. Morning run + afternoon family + evening bike. Not ideal, but certainly doable. No worries.

Okay, the totals.

Actual Hours: 5:28
Planned Hours: 7:30
Swim: 2900 yards
Bike: 44.57 miles
Run: 10.07 miles
Strength: 0.00

This next week includes the same pattern...2 swim, 2 bike, 4 run, and 2 strength (approx. 7:45 hours). I'm hoping to do the Chilly Cheeks on Sunday, but won't be able to tell until mid-week how my knee is responding to the new brace. We will see.

And I'm out!

Is it lunch time yet?

Okay, so I'm at work and posting since it's lunch. But, frankly, in my world...it's always lunch. Or dinner. Occasionally Linner. Often Brunch. More frequently Breakfast.

I apparently have a tapeworm.

In fact, I was flipping through the channels last night (ridiculously late, which is a completely different post...specifically my inability to sleep on nights when I should be crazy tired, to the point of fall down exhaustion, but watch bad tv endlessly to no avail...but I digress...) and saw a show about medical parasites. This guy had picked up a tapeworm. Possibly at a tapeworm store. I don't know. He didn't mention that part.

Anyway, he had literally found the end of this said worm and started pulling. A lot. Apparently he picked it up a while ago. He kept pulling and pulling until it wouldn't go anymore, then his (VERY LOVING AND UNDERSTANDING) wife snipped it with scissors.

Ew.

Double ew.

Recently, though, I think I managed to pick up one of these unlikely guests because I am clearly hungrier than the average hippo. Could it be the extra time training? Maybe. I think it's a guest worm. A guest worm who, I've affectionately named TYR. I think it may be appropriate.

But, TYR doesn't seem to mind my training schedule and I don't mind craving almonds at 11:30 at night. As long as he doesn't start bouncing rent checks, I'm happy he's here. Bring on the pasta, baby.

Just another Thursday

Okay, it wasn't really a big mission -- 1050 meters before work. But this morning was the first morning when I rolled over and looked at the clock (beepbeep, beepbeep, beepbeep) at 5:30 and thought...oh, FOR THE LOVE OF ALL THAT IS GOOD AND HOLY, GO AWAY AND LET ME SLEEP!

It's dark out there. It's warm in here. I'll do it later. It's only a swim session, I'll make it up over the weekend. My head hurts. I'm tired. It's going to be cold in the water. It's even going to be cold in the locker room. Good grief, is it snowing?


And, you know what? It was dark out. It was warm under the covers. My head did hurt and I was tired. The water is always ridiculously cold in the pool. Right, right...and right.

But wrong, of course.

All excuses. Ugly, posturing excuses.

No listening to the procrastinator who takes up shop in your head over the wee hours of the morning. No listening to the excuses -- squirming to find and form a reasonable reason to hedge, quit, short-change.

I learned all about that.

Just do it, stupid. One step at a time and before you know it, you'll feel better. These nagging thoughts will be replaced and forgotten.

You know, Mighty M was asking me the other day how my first IM training sessions have been, the trooper that he is. And, upon reflection, I realized they felt like an old hat. Easily recognizable, sometimes awkward, always reliable.

I don't know if I expected some major revelation to happen this month -- the sky to open up and some great truth to reveal itself to me. I guess so many of the wonders of the sport and the preparations were really peeled back and illuminated for me last year, it's hard not to expect a second coming. Triathlon was a shiny new object, sparkly and beautiful, even in the toughest moments. There was something profound to be learned at most junctures because most junctures were firsts. First distances, first falls. First finishes and first personal bests. Novelty can be a novelty, in and of itself.

I guess the real revelation that I'm landing on now, through the process of planning such a big year and engaging so many people in the process, is that it is terribly satisfying to flex my metaphorical muscles. Flex my reliability. Flex my commitment. Even flex my enjoyment in the unpleasant side of the process.

These were not qualities that I made great use of before -- or arguably even had in my repertoire. But now, that pre-dawn conversation is predictable and almost amusing. Even my sluggish and foggy mind remembers what I used to say and why, and why those answers are no longer relevant. I no longer rob myself of time nor opportunity. I no longer accept meager excuses to cloud meaningful goals. I just don't do it anymore. Each day is important and no one day will do it alone.

I have felt deep and painful regret. It is destructive and has no place in my plans anymore.

So, grinning knowingly, I quietly switched off my alarm and slipped out of bed. Grabbed my lunch from the fridge and gym bag by the door, and headed out to scrape off the crusty windshield. It was Thursday, my swim day. Gotta get moving before the lanes fill. Just one more day to fill my coffer. One more day when I can be proud of my little moments of integrity. One more day to have the gift of time to craft a meaningful life. Just another Thursday.

Unforgettable

There is usually one or two things that I forget on my way to the gym in the morning.

I plan ahead by packing my bag the night before, thinking about what I'll be doing there and each step of getting ready for work in the cold, somewhat sterilized environment of the women's locker room at my local Y. I think about how cold it will be on the way there, my goggles and cap, and whether or not I'll want to wear jewelry during the work day. I try to remember the round brush for my hair and deodorant for my coworkers' sakes.

And, of course, I always forget something. Frankly, it's usually two things. Not three...just two. Sometimes it's really important (e.g., skivvies...let me tell you...INconvenient to say the least!) and sometimes forgettable (perfume).

Today was my first day back to pre-dawn swimming and -- although I spent my usual preplanned walk-through last night -- I forgot two things. Today, though, they were kinda funny.

First: my winter coat. You roll into the Y in darkness, you can get away with an over sized hooded sweatshirt over your suit. Hood up? Nobody cares. I don't think I even bothered to brush my hair. But it's the real challenge is to remember that it's just as cold when you leave afterwards as it was on the way in and somehow the sweatshirt does not translate over to the Ann Taylor skirt and sweater set. Still working on that one.

Second: how to count. Yup, today I forgot how to count. Laps, that is. I *know* that I warmed up with 200 breast stroke. That I know for sure. And I'm pretty confident that I correctly counted the first 200 free right...I think. But then things completely went awry. For some reason, when I'm counting my 775th meter, I realized that I was counting wrong.

Oops.

Sometimes I have stupid for lunch. Today, I apparently had it for breakfast.

The good news is that rather than having done 800 free, I probably did more like 1400. Because for some reason I was convinced that each lap was 25...rather than each length.

You know...it did seem like a long set.

I just peed my pants

When you're the craziest ones in a room full of nuts, this is what it looks like.



PS -- I will NEVER, EVER look at the American flag the same way again. Neither will those people in the window, I bet.

Local Yocals Swimming with the Sharks

This is really for the local yocals from Philadelphia/NJ/NY. The Sandy Hookers Triathlon Club puts on the Long Branch Sprint Triathlon Series each year. I haven't had the chance to get out there for it yet, but I'm planning on doing just that a couple of times this year.

I've heard good stuff about the series and the race managment. Plus, it's a GREAT way to get in open water ocean swims for a tiny fee. And, comm'on. We *all* need to practice our open water swimming.

The race dates are July 1, July 29, Sept 2, and Sept 30. If you can't drive there, consider taking the train -- the race site is apparently 1 mile from the Long Branch Train Station.

If you know of any regular open water swims (ocean or otherwise) definitely let me know. The more swim time out of the pool, the better!

Cheers!

Bring it ON

Well, I'm back. From vacation, that is. I discovered something very interesting last week. Here I was, enjoying a bonus vacation week granted to employees at our office for the holiday. We are very lucky in that regard -- our office leadership truly believes in the balance of work and home lives, and supports everyone in keeping a healthy respect for each.

Vacation it is. Use it, or lose it.

So, I was off for the whole week. The beginning was really fun -- sleeping in, working on personal things, killing Christmas by packing up all the decorations, getting through financial tasks that were languishing on the ToDo list. All good.

Then Wednesday hit. And I got antsy. Really antsy. I don't think vacations and I get along. I seem to only operate well when there isn't enough time, when I'm being pulled in many directions and I have a daily schedule to follow because I *need* one. When I have all the time in the world, I simply waste it.

Ah, well. Know your limitations, I guess. :)

So, I'm just tickled to be back at work. I love my job, so that makes it much better, of course. And, since we are mere months away from IMmoo...it's time to start smackin' out a little training!

You can check out what's on the docket for this week on my TrainingPeaks public site. That will be my go-to site for tracking all of my training, and where I will ultimately have my formal plan posted.

This week consists of four runs (including one run off), two bikes, two strength, and two swims. I'm heavier on the run frequencies because I feel like that running may warrant some special attention, due to my persnickety ITB. If all goes well, I'd like to sign up for the Chilly Cheeks trail run on the 21st. They throw such a great race, but we'll see.

(By the way, although I could never count it as real training, I wasn't completely idle last week. I was very pleased to find that I retained more muscle strength than I originally anticipated. My strength sessions didn't leave me bent over with soreness and I was actually doing more reps than last year (since this is AA an all). That was definitely a pleasant surprise.)

You know, I'm actually very excited for a lot of things this week -- solid training, back at work full time, and a full schedule. Yeah, there will be a point where I link back to this post and rue the day I wasted extra time and looked forward to a full schedule. And, yup, that day maybe tomorrow.

But for now, bring it on Life.

Bring. It. On.

Happy New Year!

I hope EVERYONE had an exceptional new year's celebration that was everything they expected. Mighty M and I enjoyed a wonderful night together of delish food (shrimp cocktail, filet and strip steaks, fresh veggies, and raspberry ganash cake...mmm) and new movies. And thanks -- we gave lots of thanks for this past year. I gave thanks for the dating gods for finally pulling me out of purgatory and introducing me to M, for the advent of exercise and health in my life, and two happy and healthy families to enjoy. Very, very good things.

And I DID do the GYGO triathlon...well, at least I gave it my best shot. Even calling ahead of time to check the Y's hours for New Year's day didn't work. I got there excited (and, to be honest, a little nervous) for the first swim of the season and the whole place was dark. D.A.R.K. And a little creepy. Not a soul around, except the teen in the pool area cleaning the pool. Well, I guess that means that today's swim will be extra enjoyable!

Never fear, I did come back to and knock out 15.8 miles on the bike. It felt great, of course! I missed my 'Naner, but don't really miss the sore butt that comes with the beginning of a season. Ouch! M was a trooper and -- with a bit of a workout agenda of his own -- he ran the mill of dread at the same time to keep me company. Now, if he could only keep all the sweat from his bald head ON his bald head...then we would be in business!! ;)

Then my mushy legs and I headed out for a run in the 'hood in the pouring rain. I would normally say yuck, but it was great. I missed running! My knee started yelling at me early on (mile 1.5 or so), and so I mixed in some walking, too. I will have to be very, very careful with (1) my running mileage, and (2) my bike to run bricks this winter. I also want to bring my bike into Andy to get the float checked on my pedals and do a full fit. I suspect that I have too much float in the pedals and that's aggrevating my knee. Andy will know.

Okay, well, I'm on a little VACATION this week (love.my.job) and will have lots of things to post and lots of updates on training. Take care, everybody, and HAPPY NEW YEAR!!!

Early Morning Weight

I'm fascinated by The Weight Room.

Fascinated and fearful, in a way.

I go and spend time there, but I never really feel at home. I show up in the wee early hours, when I would assume that other people serious about their health and training show up, and I feel like less of an 'insider' than I would at a convention for evangelical political pundits in a presidential election year. Fearful that the moment I open my mouth or make one concerted move, I will instantaneously be discovered as an outsider and the floor will magically open up, swallow me whole, and drop me along side the New Jersey turnpike, dazed, confused, and feeling a little slimy.


I had a session with a trainer way back when I started this whole triathlon training trip and it was definitely a smart move. Realizing that I had zero idea of what machines to use and how often or, well, how...I buckled down and dropped the c-note for an hour with someone who did. She's also a triathlete, and a serious one at that. I told her my plans and she put me to work. I learned a solid circuit of exercises both on the nautilus machines (in the safe room...you know, the one with the treadmills and other familiar machines) and in The Weight Room.

I kind of felt like a fool -- an interloper or sorts. Clearly I was getting a lesson on the basics, so I was basically a beginner. I swallowed my pride and went with it and the process payed off. Over the following months I slowly became more comfortable using the free weights freely. I got used to switching out using a machine during recovery. I even figured out where to look in a room full of mirrors and buff guys without completely embarrassing myself. (Com. On. A room full of mirrors and we're NOT supposed to look? Good grief!) I began to recognize the regulars as I became a regular myself.

And, luckily, the floor never opened up and swallowed me whole. I managed to avoid the Jersey roadside and was all that much stronger for the process. Yeah. The definition in my arms alone was worth it. And, recently, we all know that I've been religiously adhering to the cheese steak diet, so I'm ever so slightly less buff than before. And when I say "ever so slightly," I really mean "shockingly." No worries, the New Year is here.



And, now that the New Year IS here, I've been working on my training plan. Finances have dictated that I need to wait until later in January to purchase my TrainingPeaks plan of choice, so I'm pulling together my own prep month plan based on an amalgamation of the bazillion books and mags I've been reading recently.

But, the weight lifting portion of the plan has forced some self-education. Last year -- when I participated and didn't compete -- the basic circuit was just fine. Any strength gain was a bonus. I was going up from the bottom, you know. But this year is different. I want my time down in the bowels of the Y -- in the dreaded Weight Room -- to be really beneficial. Well spent. So, in this process, I found a great site that y'all may be interested in visiting: ExRx.com. I've been hanging out on the Exercise and Muscle Directory section to familiarize myself with any number of variations of hip abductor exercises and what the heck the difference is between an adductor and abductor.

I found it really informative and helpful. Maybe you will, too!

And, I'm pleased to say that I've landed on a set of exercises that I think will really payoff. Yes, make me sore in an unholy and evil way. Yes, I will walk for the first week ever so slightly bent over and grunting along the way. But, bring on the high protein/low fat diet and let's tear some muscle tissue. Booyah!

I'm It

I've been tagged! This is my first tagging, so I'm kind of tickled by the whole idea. Thanks JohnnyTri! Here's my entry into the Blog Book Tag...

What to do...

1. Find the nearest book.
2. Name the book & the author.
3. Turn to page 123.
4. Go to the fifth sentence on the page. Copy out the next three sentences and post to your blog.
5. Tag three more folks.

Being that I work in a counseling center for families and individuals, you would imagine the there are a BUNCH o' psychological books around. But, I stuck to the task and grabbed the one physically the closest to me -- Self Analysis, by Karen Horney, MD. It was published in 1942, which is particularly interesting when you consider the history of analysis, psychoanalysis, and its rise and decline in popularity in professional circles. The first readers of this edition would have likely been contemporaries of Freud (albeit geographically distant) and lived in a world unfettered and unaided by psychiatric medications. The book must have been donated to our center, since it's inscribed to "Elizabeth Anthony, from D.G., Christmas 1944." How very interesting...

p. 123, from "The Analyst's Share in the Psychoanalytic Process"

Like everyone else, the analyst will observe general qualities in the patient's behavior, such as aloofness, warmth, rigidity, spontaneity, defiance, compliance, suspicion, confidence, assertiveness, timidity, ruthlessness, sensitivity. In the mere process of listening to the patient he will, without direct effort, gain many general impressions: whether the patient is able to let himself go or is tense and constrained; whether he talks in a systematic, controlled fashion or is jumpy and scattered; whether he presents abstract generalities or concrete details; whether he is circumstantial or to the point; whether he talks spontaneously or leaves the initiative to the analyst; whether he is conventional or expresses what he really thinks and feels.

In his more specific observations the analyst learns, first, from what the patient tells him about his experiences, past and present, his relationships with himself and others, his plans, his wishes, his fears, his thoughts.

Not bad for a random few sentences out of a random book.

LBTEPA, Spokane Al, and Donald -- consider yourselves TAGGED!

(oh, this is fun!)

I could not have said it better myself

Sunshine, you hit the proverbial nail right on the head. May we all find this in the coming year!

Oh, and don't forget...

...to register for the GYGO Virtual Tri-Geek Challenge! A fabulous way to start the new year doing exactly what most of us will be up to all year long (swim, bike, run, rinse, repeat comes to mind...).

I, myself, have already checked that the Y is open. So, I'll be joining all of the New Years resoluters (It's a word!)* with some splashing around in the water, drying off on the bike, and shvitzing my way through three miles on the dreaded mill.

But symbolism goes a long way, people, and I'm DOWN with the symbolism of this event.

So. Go. Register. Pick whatever distance you want and have FUN with it!!

Kick the year off on the right foot. Or fin. Or whatever.

* okay, not really

it's the FI-NAL COUNT-DOWN

da da daaa daaaah
da da dadada
dada da daaa
dada da da da ...

Okay, enough annoying 80s songs to get stuck in your head on an early Monday morning.

Going on a little hiatus from the blog-o-li-cious scene for the holidays. The next week is ridiculously full, which I should count my lucky stars for, but it seems a little overwhelming right now. So much time needs to be spent gathering glorious gifts and wrapping them for all my loved ones. Visiters are coming into town (yeah Lil'Sis!!!!!) and Mighty M and I will be traveling around the area making sure everyone we love knows it. I'm looking forward to the hours my sister, Dad, and I will spend around the tree and by the fire. Plus, this year is all that much fuller with M's family who is, thankfully, also local. (Whew.) We get to share gifts with a 2 year old niece who never stops chatting and I always want to stow away in the car with us when we leave, and her baby sister who is just a nugget of cuteness. And hopefully in between we can steal some time to ourselves for our first Christmas together.

So, I'm going on a little blog vacation, but will be back soon. And you guys should, too. Spend time away from the computer if you can -- and away from training for that matter -- and gather those you care about around you. Be well, travel safely, and take advantage of the time together.

Morning musing

Less then three weeks until Ironman training begins, and a thought occured to me last night that, while not original or even all that insightful, calmed some of my worries of lost ability.

Achievements that take many days, weeks, months, or years are not undone in less time. The achievement itself may seem tenuous and vulnerable, but when it was hard won and based on honest effort, those impressions of vulnerability are your own perception, not the reality.

Just thought I wanted to share that with you this morning.

In other news, I have solved the website issue (try...the hosting company forgot to actually purchase the domain!) and have picked my training plan for TP.com. Once the holiday crush is over I'll get that purchased and uploaded for all to see. And, yes Jeremy, I still do owe a race report on the marathon. I guess I'll have to actually make this one funny, since it's so late! Thanks for keeping me honest...

Ode to Edamame

I'm not even done eating this dinner and I have to post its crazy quick and easy recipe. Thanks to the NHL and M's penchant for naps, I'm on my own for dinner tonight. Here's what came of rather slim pickin's in the fridge. The edamame are the key -- they're so naturally flavorful and ridiculously packed with protein (not to mention the soy benefits). Don't skimp on the butter. A pat won't kill you and it really brings out the flavor.*

1 Tbsp olive oil
1 Tbsp butter
1 cup frozen shelled edamame
1-1/2 cups fresh green beans, halved
1/4 cup water
salt, pepper

2 cups cooked brown rice

Saute the frozen edamame in butter and oil combination for 5 minutes on medium heat. (Beware of adding any frozen food to hot oil -- the sputtering can really hurt! Start everything together in the pan if you love the skin on your arms!)

Add the green beans and toss to coat. Season with salt to taste. Add the water and cover, simmering on medium heat for 8-10 minutes or until green beans are crisp-tender. Remove lid and cook for 3 more minutes to cook off any remaining water. Season with ground pepper and salt. Serve over brown rice.

Serves: 2 regular people or 1 hungry triathlete

Yup, that simple. But it's really wonderful on taste. Really.

I'd show a picture, but now it's all gone.

Yum.

* Why butter AND oil? The oil allows the dish to cook at a higher heat, but protects the butter from, literally, burning. So you get the great butter taste and the ability to cook the beans at a relatively high temperature for a short period of time. This works really well with steaks, but you already know my issues with beef.

J'hello Fitness

Last night Mighty M and I had sinful food for dinner. Sinful, delicious, horribly fattening food for dinner.

And it was joyous.

Cheese steaks with fried onions and mushrooms. Mmmm.

So all is good and then, later on before we went to sleep, M asks me the following evil question:

"So, how many more days until you can't have any more cheese steaks?"

Oof.

Evil, evil man.

But, of course, he's right! * Yeah, um, that would be something like 23 days 6 hours and 18 minutes. And a handful of seconds. In training I wouldn't dream of an evening of random gluttony with zero nutritional value on a Thursday night. No -- I would be patient and wait for great celebration or meaningful milestone to take on the fat, salt, and calories with a smile on my face. Nope, random gluttony won't be in the cards. (And, seriously, Thursday is a long run day so I wouldn't even have TIME for the darned thing!)

My Ironman training begins at the very moment millions of others across this world (give or take a time zone or two) are making bold promises of changed lifestyles. At the crack of midnight, I'll be shifting gears to early morning departures for the gym, bleary eyed plunges into the never-quite-warm-enough waters of the Y pool in the dark hours, and Saturdays spent slamming a brick rather than snuggling a boyfriend.

I'm definitely looking forward to it all, but for a nice period of time I've grown accustomed to rolling out of bed at 8:00 each morning and spending laundry time on my delicates rather than my dirty gear.

There is one thing that I certainly miss -- my fit body. I've never been "Iron Fit," even when working out regularly. (Although, I am very curious to see the changes Iron training will have on my bottom line, so to speak!) Somehow my genetics seem to be my limiter in the hot bod category of triathlons, but I certainly hold my own, albeit in a curvy way. Less Rosie and more Selma Hayek. Kind of.

Anyway, the lack of purposeful activity and the influx of sinful, sinful dinners has left me not so Iron Fit. Perhaps more like Tin Fit. Or Jello Fit.

Yes.

Jello Fit.

Now, I'm not going to give up those 23 days and whatever minutes. I'm enjoying having no fitness master for now. But he's looming -- right at the edge of my view. Waiting for the clock to strike, the ball to slide down, and for me to join the rest of the world in shifting gears. Literally.

So, bring it on on the first. But in the mean time, can you please pass the popcorn? Thanks, you're the best.

* Yes, sweetheart, right just like the shoes at the mall. Just. Like. The shoes.

Training Plans and Online Help

Not the most creative title, I know.

Give me a break -- busy week, but wanted to get this out there.

So.

Ironayla recently posted about a topic that has been on my mind quite a bit recently and is actually tri-related. (GASP -- could it be!?! Is she actually blogging about tri-related stuff and not her Christmas tree??) How do you find a training plan that is detailed enough for your needs, but doesn't put you in the poor house or provide info you could get in other (namely, already purchased) sources, like books?

(That's a very convoluted question. Mr. Piligalli from elementary composition would not be pleased with that one.)

I pulled the trigger and signed up for the TrainingPeaks.com package that allows me to plan, track, and compile my training information in what seems to be a relatively easy format. If I can use it, any monkey locked in a room with a computer and a swizzle stick can, too. It has a number of added benefits (visually interesting and useful graphs and reports, fast loading pages, nutrition logs, and interfaces with Garmin/Polar/etc). Plus, I'm on the computer all the time -- morning, noon, and night -- so, that fits in well with my habits.

And, let's be serious, the closer I can get my training 'tools' to match my well ingrained habits (bad or otherwise), the less likely I'll sabotage myself from the get go.

Anyhoo.

Here's the big question now -- training plans. I've read Big Papa Joe Friel's books. And Wes Hobson, and what feels like a gadzillion other books. So I have a least a beginning base of understanding the process of periodization and how and when to peak. But where my understanding falls short is the minutia.

What drills do I do in the pool on the second swim of a Build Week 3. How do I get the most power out of my legs for a hilly IM, while having little understanding of wattage. Hours of training recommended for the second week of Base. In short -- how do I actually execute my training on a daily basis.

For those who actually know what they're doing (or, like Jeremy, have a personal Ironman Rockstar on speeddial) -- then read no further. TP.com has a massive library of sessions to choose from. If you know what you need to do, then just take a couple hours and plug it all in, and then it's gravy.

The rest of us? Read on...

So, my thought was to purchase a plan -- compatible with TP.com -- and then tweak it to match my planned A/B races. In fact, there used to be the perfect plan on the site (iron distance for beginners, specific for hilly races), but it was recently plucked away and replaced with other plans that are possibly too advanced for me and are 50% more expensive.

Btw, NOT a wise decision from the team up there at TP.com! When I could have had it for $80 last week and you now want $150?? Come. On. I know the value of the plan didn't magically spike...so what motivates me to shell out almost double for practically the same thing? (To be fair, the pricier option -- now the only option close to my ability and specific to my race -- is for intermediate level racers, not beginners.) But seriously. Remember that scene in Pretty Woman? Bad move, TP. Really bad move. Cause let me tell ya -- it's Christmas and I'm in the buying mood.

Again...anyhow...

What do you use? Do you like it? Any ideas where a penny pinching triathlete can get a useful starting point to craft a IM season?

...and After...

O' Tannenbaum

As the moments tick away from my last night of vacation, I feel warm and content inside as this little darling sits in our living room. She's slowly unfurling her boughs and will be dressed for the yule tide ball tomorrow night.

I'm happy to say that my vacation week was filled with absolutely nothing notable. And while nothing exceptional was accomplished (aside from finding a wonderful tree), I actually do feel like my tanks are topped off and I'm ready to take on what comes tomorrow. And Tuesday. And beyond.

So, I'm heading off to my oasis for some Sunday night fizzy water, my new Runner's World, and the knowledge that I can actually do nothing for a week and do it well.

Sleep well, all my bloggy buds. I'm out...