Casa de Luz has become one of my favorite places to eat of late. Two of my favorite things they make are sun cheese and pepita sauce. Either of these added to greens really elevates the whole "healthy eating" experience. Plus, the sauces seem to counter the bitterness of the greens. This week I found a recipe for their pepita sauce online and tried it at home tonight. I over-roasted the pepitas a little, so the color ended up light brown, when it should've been green, but it tasted excellent over blanched kale, despite looking like barf. I felt very adventurous to be cooking with ingredients I'd never used before, like ume plum vinegar. My previous experience with pepitas was when my mother would roast pumpkin seeds at Halloween after we carved the pumpkin. Except, she never hulled the seeds. I don't recommend eating unhulled pepitas.
Food is a huge part of my life at the moment. Lots of trying new things and trying to expand my vegetarian diet beyond the basics of beans, rice, hummus, and greens. A dear friend had me over for dinner recently, and dessert was fall fruit with a balsamic vinegar reduction. I'd never had anything like it, and it was quite delicious. Balsamic vinegar had already become a new favorite ingredient this year, and I will be attempting my own reduction soon, having found a simple recipe online. Because, it's all about the food!
The references to food in this hilarious (because it's so true) guide to personal ads of triathletes are so very accurate.
15 October 2007
26 September 2007
random destinations
So glad I spent the time to read Life of Pi again. My reactions to a book depend on where I am in my life at the time I read it. I loved this book when I first read it a few years ago. It was hard to put down. I'd carry it around in case I got a few extra minutes and could read a page or two. And the ending was a puzzlement. This time, it stayed on my bedside table, and frequently kept me up later than I intended because, despite having read it previously, I was drawn into the story like it was new to me. In a way, it was.
I didn't remember much other than the main storyline, but at this reading, something else stuck. We are infinitesimally small and insignificant and yet, at the same time, masters of our universe. Piscine Molitor Patel experienced the profound loneliness and terror of his insignificance each night and the immense power his choices and actions had to shape his destiny in the light of day. It reminded me of the end of Forrest Gump, when Forrest wonders if we each have a destiny, like his momma said, or if, as Lt. Dan put it, we were drifting around, all random, like a feather in the breeze. Of course, Forrest thinks, maybe it's both. So it is with Life of Pi, it's both, we're both insignificant and immensely powerful. Our choices mean everything. The challenge is to be aware of the moment of choice and to make conscious choices.
Being aware of the moment of decision calls to mind Socrates' questions from The Peaceful Warrior:
Where are you?
What time is it?
Read or watch The Peaceful Warrior if you aren't satisfied with your own answers to these questions.
I didn't remember much other than the main storyline, but at this reading, something else stuck. We are infinitesimally small and insignificant and yet, at the same time, masters of our universe. Piscine Molitor Patel experienced the profound loneliness and terror of his insignificance each night and the immense power his choices and actions had to shape his destiny in the light of day. It reminded me of the end of Forrest Gump, when Forrest wonders if we each have a destiny, like his momma said, or if, as Lt. Dan put it, we were drifting around, all random, like a feather in the breeze. Of course, Forrest thinks, maybe it's both. So it is with Life of Pi, it's both, we're both insignificant and immensely powerful. Our choices mean everything. The challenge is to be aware of the moment of choice and to make conscious choices.
Being aware of the moment of decision calls to mind Socrates' questions from The Peaceful Warrior:
Where are you?
What time is it?
Read or watch The Peaceful Warrior if you aren't satisfied with your own answers to these questions.
25 September 2007
By the numbers
With all the tri training and changing to a (mostly) plant-based, gluten-free diet in the spring, I was curious if it would have any effect on my cholesterol scores. People are usually surprised to hear I have high cholesterol, but such is the way of genetic inheritance. I come by it honestly, from my Dad's genes. He's tall and trim, but also has the high cholesterol. Part of the motivation behind all my athletic pursuits is a desire to avoid cholesterol meds (don't trust their safety, don't want to live with the side effects) and avoid heart problems further down the road. It's an investment in my future health, with benefits in the here and now. It helps that I enjoy being active and athletic; this stuff is fun for me.
As part of the TNT training, one of the coaches shared how changing to a vegan diet had changed his life. Hearing that someone's cancer went into remission was pretty amazing, but my interest was really piqued by the increase in energy and lessening of allergy symptoms that he experienced from dietary changes. I was willing to give it a try, even removing gluten from my diet. I'm grateful that I'm not Celiac, because going gluten-free has been the most challenging, and the area in which I'm most likely to be inconsistent. However, I have had a noticeable increase in energy. Not surprising, since for me eating pancakes is the equivalent of taking a sedative. I continued to eat oats for awhile, but noticed the same sedative effect once I'd dropped other forms of gluten. So, with some sadness, I gave away my last tin of Irish oatmeal. In addition to having more energy, I discovered that gluten was contributing to general sinus congestion and stuffiness. Within a week of going GF, my sinuses, while never a big problem, were noticeably clearer.
I took to the plant-based diet pretty readily, and made some new discoveries. Millet rocks. Cooks up similar to cous-cous, but energizes me, instead of making me sleepy. I can't imagine eating white rice by choice, much preferring the heartier taste and texture of brown rice. Quinoa is not to be eaten by itself. There are some excellent quinoa-based pastas with the texture of traditional pasta, which makes them far better than rice and corn-based GF pastas, which tend toward unappetizing mushiness. Chard tastes like dirt. Mustard greens are spicy, and not in a good way. Kale and collards have risen to the top of the greens pile to become staples. Organic greens taste better than conventionally-grown.
The ease of transitioning to the gluten-free (mostly) plant-based diet was surprising, until I remembered that as a child, I enjoyed plucking and eating young tender blades of grass, and that I liked sampling the grains in the horse feed out in the barn. I had the makings of a vegan from way back. It also helped that I was already mostly sugar and caffeine-free.
Six months after making these changes, I finally got my cholesterol checked. My total cholesterol, while still considered high, dropped 34 points; my LDL (bad cholesterol) dropped 40 points; and my HDL rose 6 points. In general, I feel better, breathe easier, and have more energy, so it looks like the changes are here to stay.
More numbers of note
Since January of this year, which had an auspicious start with an 8 mile run, I have logged the following distances:
Cycling: 1021 miles
Running: 258 miles
Swimming: 26,544 yds or 15 miles
I think it's time for a new pair of running shoes!
As part of the TNT training, one of the coaches shared how changing to a vegan diet had changed his life. Hearing that someone's cancer went into remission was pretty amazing, but my interest was really piqued by the increase in energy and lessening of allergy symptoms that he experienced from dietary changes. I was willing to give it a try, even removing gluten from my diet. I'm grateful that I'm not Celiac, because going gluten-free has been the most challenging, and the area in which I'm most likely to be inconsistent. However, I have had a noticeable increase in energy. Not surprising, since for me eating pancakes is the equivalent of taking a sedative. I continued to eat oats for awhile, but noticed the same sedative effect once I'd dropped other forms of gluten. So, with some sadness, I gave away my last tin of Irish oatmeal. In addition to having more energy, I discovered that gluten was contributing to general sinus congestion and stuffiness. Within a week of going GF, my sinuses, while never a big problem, were noticeably clearer.
I took to the plant-based diet pretty readily, and made some new discoveries. Millet rocks. Cooks up similar to cous-cous, but energizes me, instead of making me sleepy. I can't imagine eating white rice by choice, much preferring the heartier taste and texture of brown rice. Quinoa is not to be eaten by itself. There are some excellent quinoa-based pastas with the texture of traditional pasta, which makes them far better than rice and corn-based GF pastas, which tend toward unappetizing mushiness. Chard tastes like dirt. Mustard greens are spicy, and not in a good way. Kale and collards have risen to the top of the greens pile to become staples. Organic greens taste better than conventionally-grown.
The ease of transitioning to the gluten-free (mostly) plant-based diet was surprising, until I remembered that as a child, I enjoyed plucking and eating young tender blades of grass, and that I liked sampling the grains in the horse feed out in the barn. I had the makings of a vegan from way back. It also helped that I was already mostly sugar and caffeine-free.
Six months after making these changes, I finally got my cholesterol checked. My total cholesterol, while still considered high, dropped 34 points; my LDL (bad cholesterol) dropped 40 points; and my HDL rose 6 points. In general, I feel better, breathe easier, and have more energy, so it looks like the changes are here to stay.
More numbers of note
Since January of this year, which had an auspicious start with an 8 mile run, I have logged the following distances:
Cycling: 1021 miles
Running: 258 miles
Swimming: 26,544 yds or 15 miles
I think it's time for a new pair of running shoes!
09 September 2007
serendipity
I finally got to race my Olympic distance triathlon, and I couldn't have asked for a better experience. Everything fell right into place. I awoke promptly at 4:45 am, feeling rested, sharp, surprisingly calm, yet excited about racing. I gathered up my transition bag and other assorted gear and noticed happily that I was traveling far lighter than I had on Memorial Day. The weather was the best we could ask for on Labor day in Austin; overcast, around 75 degrees, with tolerable humidity.
I headed over to the race site, set up my transition area, topped off the bike tires, and chatted with some of my teammates. I was still feeling quite calm and relaxed, despite my unfamiliarity of the exact race course. The lake was just cool enough to make the swim wetsuit-legal. While I had considered grinding out the swim sans wetsuit, all it took was one person saying they always took the wetsuit advantage (thanks, Ken!) for me to throw out the idea of proving something to myself in exchange for the speed and confidence the wetsuit would afford. Town Lake (still can't get used to calling it Lady Bird Lake) looked pretty grody. Thanks to the prior week's rain, and perhaps lingering issues from the summer's flooding, it was pretty brown, and I wondered how much current was out there.
Fast forward to the race start, which was in the lake, yet another reason to be thankful for the wetsuit, because it makes it so much easier for me to tread water when I actually float! I had no idea how far out the last buoy was; the swim course was changed from a loop to an out and back. My strategy was to just keep swimming until I saw it, then just keep swimming until I got back. I survived the swim, and have to say, it wasn't that bad. My time at the halfway point was around 19 minutes, a good five minutes faster than my best half mile swim without a wetsuit, and I figure overall, wearing the wetsuit took about 10 minutes off my swim time. A couple of times I took on water and had to cough and splutter for a bit. Even if I end up with an intestinal parasite, it was totally worth it, and I say that even as I'm noticing a little digestive upset today!
Into transition, my wetsuit sleeve got stuck on my watch. I tried to muscle it off, but to no avail. I had to pull the sleeve back up, take off the watch, take off the sleeve, then put the watch back on, all while trying to catch my breath. I slowed down to dry my feet, put on socks, and gear up for the bike ride. Once on the bike, I concentrated on remembering which lap I was on, which equated to counting how many times I'd seen the capitol, and how many times I passed the dead squirrel on Cesar Chavez. Loop courses are interesting because you never know what lap other people are on when they pass you, or you pass them. I managed to pass a few people, but the most fun people to pass were the TNT folks at the run course water stop on Cesar Chavez. I saw them twice each bike loop and we'd exchange shouts and cheers for each other. I felt so blessed to have the opportunity to train with and get to know such a great group of people this year. They gave me a boost of energy each time I rode by.
It was also cool seeing my fellow teammates all over the race course. I cheered them on each time I saw them, giving high fives when I could. Into transition for the run, I needed to take a bathroom break, a sure sign I was not dehydrated! As soon as I crossed the timing mat into the run, I took a little detour for the porta can. No way was I gonna run 6 miles on a full bladder. All the brick training we'd done this year really paid off. No longer does it feel awkward to transition from the bike to the run. I just have to let myself start slow enough to catch my breath, then work up to race pace. The run never really felt comfortable, but I think I was grinning the whole way, just happy to be out there racing. I was delighted to see another TNT water stop by Jack & Adams Bicycles. I stopped to walk briefly and take water at almost every pass of a water stop. I had no idea of my pace, but considering the water stops and the potty break, I was surprised to check my watch and see 2:50 as I came over the S. 1st street bridge for the last time. I was hoping to finish in under 3 hours, and I was easily on target. I even had energy to sprint like a bandit for the finish line, coming in at just over 2:52. I felt jubilant and triumphant, pun intended.
This was my last triathlon for the year, and it was my best race all year. The other races all had their high points, and each taught me something valuable about myself. Cap Tex - having something to race for is more important than racing; Danskin - it's rewarding to include my family in my life; Disco - placing isn't everything, but it's ok (and fun) to do well; Couples - racing with friends is fun, having friends to train and race with is priceless; Jack's Generic - volunteering is as fun as racing; Darnd'st Du - sometimes even the things I love to do are difficult, keep going, even when it's tough.
The Austin Tri taught me that I really can accomplish a goal that I set for myself. Crossing that finish line marks the end of a journey, and the moment itself is gone, but the miles I literally and figuratively traveled to arrive, and the friends I gained, will always be a part of me. Looking back, in the process of reaching my goal of completing an Olympic distance tri, so much more happened in my life than I expected, and for that I am grateful.
I headed over to the race site, set up my transition area, topped off the bike tires, and chatted with some of my teammates. I was still feeling quite calm and relaxed, despite my unfamiliarity of the exact race course. The lake was just cool enough to make the swim wetsuit-legal. While I had considered grinding out the swim sans wetsuit, all it took was one person saying they always took the wetsuit advantage (thanks, Ken!) for me to throw out the idea of proving something to myself in exchange for the speed and confidence the wetsuit would afford. Town Lake (still can't get used to calling it Lady Bird Lake) looked pretty grody. Thanks to the prior week's rain, and perhaps lingering issues from the summer's flooding, it was pretty brown, and I wondered how much current was out there.
Fast forward to the race start, which was in the lake, yet another reason to be thankful for the wetsuit, because it makes it so much easier for me to tread water when I actually float! I had no idea how far out the last buoy was; the swim course was changed from a loop to an out and back. My strategy was to just keep swimming until I saw it, then just keep swimming until I got back. I survived the swim, and have to say, it wasn't that bad. My time at the halfway point was around 19 minutes, a good five minutes faster than my best half mile swim without a wetsuit, and I figure overall, wearing the wetsuit took about 10 minutes off my swim time. A couple of times I took on water and had to cough and splutter for a bit. Even if I end up with an intestinal parasite, it was totally worth it, and I say that even as I'm noticing a little digestive upset today!
Into transition, my wetsuit sleeve got stuck on my watch. I tried to muscle it off, but to no avail. I had to pull the sleeve back up, take off the watch, take off the sleeve, then put the watch back on, all while trying to catch my breath. I slowed down to dry my feet, put on socks, and gear up for the bike ride. Once on the bike, I concentrated on remembering which lap I was on, which equated to counting how many times I'd seen the capitol, and how many times I passed the dead squirrel on Cesar Chavez. Loop courses are interesting because you never know what lap other people are on when they pass you, or you pass them. I managed to pass a few people, but the most fun people to pass were the TNT folks at the run course water stop on Cesar Chavez. I saw them twice each bike loop and we'd exchange shouts and cheers for each other. I felt so blessed to have the opportunity to train with and get to know such a great group of people this year. They gave me a boost of energy each time I rode by.
It was also cool seeing my fellow teammates all over the race course. I cheered them on each time I saw them, giving high fives when I could. Into transition for the run, I needed to take a bathroom break, a sure sign I was not dehydrated! As soon as I crossed the timing mat into the run, I took a little detour for the porta can. No way was I gonna run 6 miles on a full bladder. All the brick training we'd done this year really paid off. No longer does it feel awkward to transition from the bike to the run. I just have to let myself start slow enough to catch my breath, then work up to race pace. The run never really felt comfortable, but I think I was grinning the whole way, just happy to be out there racing. I was delighted to see another TNT water stop by Jack & Adams Bicycles. I stopped to walk briefly and take water at almost every pass of a water stop. I had no idea of my pace, but considering the water stops and the potty break, I was surprised to check my watch and see 2:50 as I came over the S. 1st street bridge for the last time. I was hoping to finish in under 3 hours, and I was easily on target. I even had energy to sprint like a bandit for the finish line, coming in at just over 2:52. I felt jubilant and triumphant, pun intended.
This was my last triathlon for the year, and it was my best race all year. The other races all had their high points, and each taught me something valuable about myself. Cap Tex - having something to race for is more important than racing; Danskin - it's rewarding to include my family in my life; Disco - placing isn't everything, but it's ok (and fun) to do well; Couples - racing with friends is fun, having friends to train and race with is priceless; Jack's Generic - volunteering is as fun as racing; Darnd'st Du - sometimes even the things I love to do are difficult, keep going, even when it's tough.
The Austin Tri taught me that I really can accomplish a goal that I set for myself. Crossing that finish line marks the end of a journey, and the moment itself is gone, but the miles I literally and figuratively traveled to arrive, and the friends I gained, will always be a part of me. Looking back, in the process of reaching my goal of completing an Olympic distance tri, so much more happened in my life than I expected, and for that I am grateful.
06 September 2007
Just Du It
I raced another duathlon in August, and the heat was pretty brutal. After dealing with four flats in as many bike rides the week prior, I was just hoping I'd gotten all the tube-puncturing glass out of my rear tire and that the dollar bill I'd used to line the tire would bring me a little luck. My tires held up fine, but I regretted leaving my cycling gloves at home. The time I saved not having to take them on and off was not worth the difficulty I had shifting gears with sweaty hands. There were times when I stood up in the pedals to climb hills where it was all I could do to keep my hands on the handlebars. Lesson learned. I was glad I took a teammate's advice to check out the race course the weekend prior. It helped to know I had some monster hills to look forward to. The first 5K of the race was the toughest. My pace was good, but I'd tapered too much the week before and felt sluggish. For part of the run I questioned why I was even out there, which is highly unusual for me. Fortunately those thoughts vanished when I got on the bike, and I finished strong on the last 5K, adding less than 30 seconds per mile to my run pace. I was pleased to finish 6th in my age group, and that I found enough reserves to sprint to the finish. Back in July, I'd overtrained prior to the Couples Tri and flatly refused to race for the finish line when challenged, which was also highly unusual for me. My legs had nothing left because I'd spent my reserves on an 18 mile bike ride the day before.
Conclusion: If Transition is the "fourth sport" Tapering is the "fifth"
Conclusion: If Transition is the "fourth sport" Tapering is the "fifth"
31 August 2007
Tri-Ooomph
July saw me compete in my first duathlon and another sprint triathlon. Both were great fun, and I performed well. The Disco Duathlon was supposed to be our TNT group's Olympic-distance tri to make up for the cancelled CapTexTri. Due to the 40 days/40 nights weather we'd had, Lake Ray Roberts was closed to recreational activities, and the 1 mile swim was replaced with a 2 mile run. I was ecstatic, to say the least. I've been running for over 20 years (off and on), but not until this year's training did I discover that it's my best (and favorite) of the triathlon sports. Good thing, because I need something to makeup for my slow swimming. I'd succumbed to a cold the week before the race, and had to take a couple Sudafed so I could breathe the morning of the race, so, I was only running at 80%. Still, I placed second in my age group, and had a really fun time.
The following week, I raced in the Couple's Tri with one of my TNT friends. It's a fun format - both members of the team do the sprint tri course, then they combine your ages and times for your final score. We were in the over 80 age group, a tough category, and placed 11th. Once again, I had an open water swim to face. This one was 800 meters, slightly longer than the Danskin swim distance. I followed my strategy of hanging back at the start so I didn't have the added anxiety of being jostled by other swimmers. I was the very last person to start the swim in my wave. Slow and steady is my swim pace, but I was past the first buoy before any swimmers from the next wave passed me. I think I even passed one or two swimmers from my wave. Most importantly, I felt confident and strong throughout the swim. No panic, no anxiety, no thoughts that I couldn't or wouldn't make it. Since that was the second time to feel that good swimming the half mile, I take it that I've crossed the mental barrier I've had about open water swimming. That is definitely a triumph for me. I am exceedingly grateful to the TNT swim coaches and everyone who's told me I could do it. I'm a swimmer.
I finished in less than 1.5 hours, which was a course record for me. I've raced the Decker Lake sprint tri course four times, plus twice as a relay, and am ready to experience a new triathlon course. I'll get that opportunity Monday in the Austin Tri. I'm nervous about the swim again, since it's twice the distance I'm comfortable with. I did a mile at Quarry Lake last Friday, just to make sure I could do the distance, and that second half mile was tough. I've considered renting a shorty wetsuit for the weekend, but I'm really wanting the challenge of this swim, on my own, unaided by the extra buoyancy of neoprene. My swim coach mentioned Dorie from "Finding Nemo" at practice last week and I'll have to "just keep swimming...just keep swimming..."
The following week, I raced in the Couple's Tri with one of my TNT friends. It's a fun format - both members of the team do the sprint tri course, then they combine your ages and times for your final score. We were in the over 80 age group, a tough category, and placed 11th. Once again, I had an open water swim to face. This one was 800 meters, slightly longer than the Danskin swim distance. I followed my strategy of hanging back at the start so I didn't have the added anxiety of being jostled by other swimmers. I was the very last person to start the swim in my wave. Slow and steady is my swim pace, but I was past the first buoy before any swimmers from the next wave passed me. I think I even passed one or two swimmers from my wave. Most importantly, I felt confident and strong throughout the swim. No panic, no anxiety, no thoughts that I couldn't or wouldn't make it. Since that was the second time to feel that good swimming the half mile, I take it that I've crossed the mental barrier I've had about open water swimming. That is definitely a triumph for me. I am exceedingly grateful to the TNT swim coaches and everyone who's told me I could do it. I'm a swimmer.
I finished in less than 1.5 hours, which was a course record for me. I've raced the Decker Lake sprint tri course four times, plus twice as a relay, and am ready to experience a new triathlon course. I'll get that opportunity Monday in the Austin Tri. I'm nervous about the swim again, since it's twice the distance I'm comfortable with. I did a mile at Quarry Lake last Friday, just to make sure I could do the distance, and that second half mile was tough. I've considered renting a shorty wetsuit for the weekend, but I'm really wanting the challenge of this swim, on my own, unaided by the extra buoyancy of neoprene. My swim coach mentioned Dorie from "Finding Nemo" at practice last week and I'll have to "just keep swimming...just keep swimming..."
29 June 2007
Tri and Tri Again
My previous post didn't really register the depth of disappointment I felt at the cancellation of the CapTexTri. But, to paraphrase Yoda, (I think, I haven't seen any of the Star Wars films in their entirety, but someone from TNT shared this quote with me) "There is no try, only do." So, earlier this month, my mother & I completed the Danskin Triathlon as a relay team. A bunch of the other TNT women raced, and a bunch of people from the team came out to cheer everyone on. It was a blast, and really helped me move forward after CapTex. I had a great opportunity to experience open water swimming at a whole new comfort and confidence level, and push myself on the bike. The 5k was my mom's leg of the race, and as I had promised, I walked every step with her. I had a lot of fun, and she did, too. We got to cheer a few of the TNT women who passed us along the way, got sprayed with icy cold water (quite the chilly surprise) from giant water guns at one of the water stops, and stopped to wait while one of the event photographers reloaded his camera so he could get pictures of us. It was so awesome to see our TNT teammates at the finish line and for mom & I to get high-fives from all of them. Her first words after crossing the finish were, "When is the next one?" I don't know if she remembers that, though!
I've got two more tris on the schedule for next month. I'm most anxious about the Disco, because it is a mile swim, sans wetsuit. I liken my wetsuit to Dumbo's red feather. It's not what enables me to swim, but wearing it sure helps me feel more confident. Everyone keeps telling me I can do this swim, but I have to learn to believe it. And I've got about a week to make it happen.
Here's a happy finish line photo:
I've got two more tris on the schedule for next month. I'm most anxious about the Disco, because it is a mile swim, sans wetsuit. I liken my wetsuit to Dumbo's red feather. It's not what enables me to swim, but wearing it sure helps me feel more confident. Everyone keeps telling me I can do this swim, but I have to learn to believe it. And I've got about a week to make it happen.
Here's a happy finish line photo:
04 June 2007
By now, most of you have heard that the triathlon I'd spent three months training for was cancelled because of weather. Thank you to those of you who have called or emailed to tell me how sorry you were that I wasn't able to race. I was extremely disappointed, and your sympathy meant so much to me. What follows is a synopsis of the morning of the race, and what being a part of this training group and raising money to fight cancer has meant to me. Here's a link to an 8 minute video of how our team made the most of that morning. If you read no further, at least watch a few minutes of our extraordinary team.
This was the first time in the Cap Tex Tri's 16 year history that they had to cancel. They first announced that the swim was canceled at 6:08 am, and planned to wait until 7:30 to make a final decision about the rest of the event. At 6:10am, I was huddled in the Team in Training tent with my teammates, hoping for the rain to let up, and wound up like a top, ready to race. If the race went on, they would replace the swim with a 5K run, to make it a duathlon. In the past, I would've been excited about that change, because running is my strongest event, but this year, my heart sank when they cancelled the swim, because I'd worked so hard to improve, and felt confident, if not fast, in the water. I'd even done a few laps in the pool on Sunday afternoon, just for fun, and to work out some pre-race nervous energy.
So, as my teammates and I waited for an update, chatting with each other about race details and comparing notes on pre-race anxiety, I looked around at all these wonderful people that I'd spent the last three months training with. Some of them were supposed to complete their very first triathlon that day. I admired their courage, remembering how scared and anxious I was before my first triathlon, which was only a sprint distance race. Some of them were cancer survivors, and I admired their refusal to let a disease define them. Several of them had raised more than $10,000 to fight blood cancer. I admired their dedication to the cause. All of us had our own personal reasons to be there, and all of us were eager to race. If the race had not been cancelled, I have no doubt that every one of us would have gone out and had a good time, and finished proudly.
Our head coach, Adam, stood up to give us a pep talk to remind us that the finish line was just another milepost along the journey, that the important part was the training and the fundraising that we'd worked so hard on for so many months, and that whether or not the race went on, that this would not be the last or only tri for any of us, and that the work we had done was the important part. He asked us, considering the possibility of a cancellation, who would be interested in doing a 5K as a team, along the race course. To a person, we said yes. At that moment, word came around that the race had been cancelled.
We all agreed that it was the safest decision for everyone, but we were all very disappointed, nonetheless. Still, moments later, everyone started rummaging about for their running shoes, and getting ready for our 5K. We ran one loop of the run course as a team - an army of 50 in our purple and green Team in Training jerseys, stomping through puddles, and whooping and hollering as we went. Our coaches and mentors took up a spot at Congress and Cesar Chavez and cheered wildly as we passed. We had the race course all to ourselves, even the Marines had gone home.
Everyone crossed the finish line to high-fives and cheers for our fellow teammates. The event photographer was so impressed with our spirit that they got their equipment out and took group photos of the team. The only photographs taken at the event. Yes, we wanted to race, and yes, we are disappointed that the triathlon was cancelled. But, we had fun, and made the most of a disappointing circumstance. Most importantly, we did something together, as a team, and lived the spirit of Team in Training. Our coaches somehow managed to get us finishers medals, which they handed out at our victory celebration; the only finishers medals given out this year. I have several of those from other triathlons I've completed, but this is the one I'm most proud of. It's not about the race.
Thank you so much for your support along my journey with Team In Training. I plan to sign up for another endurance event with TNT, and perhaps this time it will be a half-Ironman triathlon. Next up for me is the Danskin sprint triathlon, which I will do in a relay with my mother. I'll swim and bike, then we'll walk the 5K together. I'm still figuring out which Olympic distance event I want to do, and will keep you posted.
This was the first time in the Cap Tex Tri's 16 year history that they had to cancel. They first announced that the swim was canceled at 6:08 am, and planned to wait until 7:30 to make a final decision about the rest of the event. At 6:10am, I was huddled in the Team in Training tent with my teammates, hoping for the rain to let up, and wound up like a top, ready to race. If the race went on, they would replace the swim with a 5K run, to make it a duathlon. In the past, I would've been excited about that change, because running is my strongest event, but this year, my heart sank when they cancelled the swim, because I'd worked so hard to improve, and felt confident, if not fast, in the water. I'd even done a few laps in the pool on Sunday afternoon, just for fun, and to work out some pre-race nervous energy.
So, as my teammates and I waited for an update, chatting with each other about race details and comparing notes on pre-race anxiety, I looked around at all these wonderful people that I'd spent the last three months training with. Some of them were supposed to complete their very first triathlon that day. I admired their courage, remembering how scared and anxious I was before my first triathlon, which was only a sprint distance race. Some of them were cancer survivors, and I admired their refusal to let a disease define them. Several of them had raised more than $10,000 to fight blood cancer. I admired their dedication to the cause. All of us had our own personal reasons to be there, and all of us were eager to race. If the race had not been cancelled, I have no doubt that every one of us would have gone out and had a good time, and finished proudly.
Our head coach, Adam, stood up to give us a pep talk to remind us that the finish line was just another milepost along the journey, that the important part was the training and the fundraising that we'd worked so hard on for so many months, and that whether or not the race went on, that this would not be the last or only tri for any of us, and that the work we had done was the important part. He asked us, considering the possibility of a cancellation, who would be interested in doing a 5K as a team, along the race course. To a person, we said yes. At that moment, word came around that the race had been cancelled.
We all agreed that it was the safest decision for everyone, but we were all very disappointed, nonetheless. Still, moments later, everyone started rummaging about for their running shoes, and getting ready for our 5K. We ran one loop of the run course as a team - an army of 50 in our purple and green Team in Training jerseys, stomping through puddles, and whooping and hollering as we went. Our coaches and mentors took up a spot at Congress and Cesar Chavez and cheered wildly as we passed. We had the race course all to ourselves, even the Marines had gone home.
Everyone crossed the finish line to high-fives and cheers for our fellow teammates. The event photographer was so impressed with our spirit that they got their equipment out and took group photos of the team. The only photographs taken at the event. Yes, we wanted to race, and yes, we are disappointed that the triathlon was cancelled. But, we had fun, and made the most of a disappointing circumstance. Most importantly, we did something together, as a team, and lived the spirit of Team in Training. Our coaches somehow managed to get us finishers medals, which they handed out at our victory celebration; the only finishers medals given out this year. I have several of those from other triathlons I've completed, but this is the one I'm most proud of. It's not about the race.
Thank you so much for your support along my journey with Team In Training. I plan to sign up for another endurance event with TNT, and perhaps this time it will be a half-Ironman triathlon. Next up for me is the Danskin sprint triathlon, which I will do in a relay with my mother. I'll swim and bike, then we'll walk the 5K together. I'm still figuring out which Olympic distance event I want to do, and will keep you posted.
21 May 2007
spidey sense and winding down
I saw Spiderman 3 on opening weekend, and all I could think of after I left the theater was how, when Peter Parker was in his "dark" phase, with the bangs, dressed in black, strutting down the street, and being rude to MJ, he looked just like k.d. lang.
Separated at birth?
A week from now the triathlon will be over. I feel pretty ready, which is good because there's really nothing more I could do to physically improve at this point, anyway. So, after three months of 6am swim practices, and 7am Saturday and Sunday running and biking workouts, wherein I learned that my favorite event is running, that I enjoy boot-camp style core training more than a sane person should, and that working out with a group of people is really fun and motivating, all that is left for this week is to eat well, get plenty of rest, and hydrate, hydrate, hydrate. We have some easier and/or shorter workouts this week, and a karaoke spin class Thursday. Friday evening I'll do one last open water swim - for the love of swimming (words I never thought I would say).
Next up will be the Danskin triathlon, which I'm doing as a relay. With my mother! I'm really excited about sharing this thing that I love with her. She's probably not as excited about it as me, but she's being a good sport.
Separated at birth?
A week from now the triathlon will be over. I feel pretty ready, which is good because there's really nothing more I could do to physically improve at this point, anyway. So, after three months of 6am swim practices, and 7am Saturday and Sunday running and biking workouts, wherein I learned that my favorite event is running, that I enjoy boot-camp style core training more than a sane person should, and that working out with a group of people is really fun and motivating, all that is left for this week is to eat well, get plenty of rest, and hydrate, hydrate, hydrate. We have some easier and/or shorter workouts this week, and a karaoke spin class Thursday. Friday evening I'll do one last open water swim - for the love of swimming (words I never thought I would say).
Next up will be the Danskin triathlon, which I'm doing as a relay. With my mother! I'm really excited about sharing this thing that I love with her. She's probably not as excited about it as me, but she's being a good sport.
09 May 2007
The Great 172 Mile Training Ride
Or, Insanity Loves Company
I've been going nonstop since finishing the MS150 bike tour, which I affectionately refer to as "The Great 172-mile Training Ride." This year I managed to take care of myself pretty well in the week leading up to the tour, tapering my triathlon training so I'd be as rested as possible. I was pretty nervous leading up to the ride because my longest training ride was only 32 miles. This would also be a big test of my recent change to a (mostly) vegan, gluten-free diet. I've been surprised at what a difference the new foods have made, but that's a topic for another post.
I was telling a tap dance buddy of mine that I wondered if I was overdoing it to do the MS ride and train for the Cap Tex triathlon. Then I found out that several of my triathlon teammates were doing the MS ride, too, and thought, OK, I'm not so crazy after all. To which she replied "insanity loves company." So true. There are worse kinds of insanity. This is one I can live with.
The greatest thing about this, my fifth MS150, was that I had asked more people in my family to support me. I had also told many of my friends that I was doing the ride, and was overwhelmed by the well-wishes and moral support that I received. It made for an extraordinary ride. It had been seven years since I had attempted the MS150, and while my circumstances were similar, I was clearly a different person this time around. Stronger, more focused on why I was there, and more present for myself throughout the ride.
We were blessed with ideal cycling conditions - overcast skies, cool breezes, and predominant tailwinds. Really the best conditions I can remember of all the 150s I've done. But what was even more magical was the strength I felt as I rode. Especially the first day. I spent well over six hours in the saddle, pedaling along, and much of the way I felt both propelled and carried along by the support of my family and friends who had told me they'd be thinking of me that weekend. I also felt strongly connected to my Aunt Jan, for whom I was riding. There were so many moments where I felt sheer gratitude well up in my heart. Gratitude for the support I received from others, gratitude for the opportunity to be of service to my aunt, who suffers from MS, and gratitude for the ability to be out there on my bike, riding, riding, and riding. Most of the time it felt like I was flying, hardly working at all. So, to my friends and family who supported me, in more ways than they knew, Thank you. You made this the best MS150 ever.
Other notable happenings on the ride included sightings of scissortail flycatchers, and roadsides teeming with wildflowers, especially the field of bluebonnets where several Jersey cows were resting, clearly making the best use of their time. My favorite town to ride through was Fayetteville, where it seemed like the whole town had come out to line the streets to greet us, blowing bubbles and cheering us on, with signs welcoming us to their town. Heartwarming, too, were the people living with MS who thanked us as we rode by. I smiled a whole lot on this ride, and that was wonderful. Here's a photo from the first day of the ride.
I've been going nonstop since finishing the MS150 bike tour, which I affectionately refer to as "The Great 172-mile Training Ride." This year I managed to take care of myself pretty well in the week leading up to the tour, tapering my triathlon training so I'd be as rested as possible. I was pretty nervous leading up to the ride because my longest training ride was only 32 miles. This would also be a big test of my recent change to a (mostly) vegan, gluten-free diet. I've been surprised at what a difference the new foods have made, but that's a topic for another post.
I was telling a tap dance buddy of mine that I wondered if I was overdoing it to do the MS ride and train for the Cap Tex triathlon. Then I found out that several of my triathlon teammates were doing the MS ride, too, and thought, OK, I'm not so crazy after all. To which she replied "insanity loves company." So true. There are worse kinds of insanity. This is one I can live with.
The greatest thing about this, my fifth MS150, was that I had asked more people in my family to support me. I had also told many of my friends that I was doing the ride, and was overwhelmed by the well-wishes and moral support that I received. It made for an extraordinary ride. It had been seven years since I had attempted the MS150, and while my circumstances were similar, I was clearly a different person this time around. Stronger, more focused on why I was there, and more present for myself throughout the ride.
We were blessed with ideal cycling conditions - overcast skies, cool breezes, and predominant tailwinds. Really the best conditions I can remember of all the 150s I've done. But what was even more magical was the strength I felt as I rode. Especially the first day. I spent well over six hours in the saddle, pedaling along, and much of the way I felt both propelled and carried along by the support of my family and friends who had told me they'd be thinking of me that weekend. I also felt strongly connected to my Aunt Jan, for whom I was riding. There were so many moments where I felt sheer gratitude well up in my heart. Gratitude for the support I received from others, gratitude for the opportunity to be of service to my aunt, who suffers from MS, and gratitude for the ability to be out there on my bike, riding, riding, and riding. Most of the time it felt like I was flying, hardly working at all. So, to my friends and family who supported me, in more ways than they knew, Thank you. You made this the best MS150 ever.
Other notable happenings on the ride included sightings of scissortail flycatchers, and roadsides teeming with wildflowers, especially the field of bluebonnets where several Jersey cows were resting, clearly making the best use of their time. My favorite town to ride through was Fayetteville, where it seemed like the whole town had come out to line the streets to greet us, blowing bubbles and cheering us on, with signs welcoming us to their town. Heartwarming, too, were the people living with MS who thanked us as we rode by. I smiled a whole lot on this ride, and that was wonderful. Here's a photo from the first day of the ride.
11 April 2007
is it wrong to love my wetsuit?
Our wetsuits came in a couple of weeks ago, and I can honestly say I'm now looking forward to the open water swim practices. Not so much that first night. I really had my guard down because the coaches had assured us we were just going to put them on and get wet, not do a full workout. So when they said swim around the perimeter of the lake, I was not at all mentally prepared. That made for an anxiety-ridden half mile swim, which was probably more of an emotional/psychological workout for me than a physical one.
I was better prepared for week two, having done some of my swimming affirmations. That night, I completed two laps around the lake with my awesome swim buddy, and we both got checked off for the swim portion of the race. There is a lot of value in practicing in open water. My comfort level went up exponentially in one week. The skills are taking a bit longer, but in this race, to finish is to win. At last week's open water swim practice, I actually got into a groove for about a minute on the second lap. Progress!
And now, without further adieu, a couple of paeans to the wetsuit:
Top five reasons I heart my wetsuit:
5. I get a nice aerobic and strength workout putting it on, thus negating the need to warm up once I'm in the water.
4. Black goes with everything.
3. Black is slimming.
2. It keeps me warm and cozy.
1. I float!
And here are the top five things I feel like when I wear said wetsuit.
5. The sta-puft marshmallow man.
4. Angelina Jolie in a Tomb Raider movie (a girl can dream).
3. I'm gliding through the water.
2. A river otter.
1. A good swimmer!
08 April 2007
how swimming reminds me of golf
Practicing swimming, to me, is a lot like practicing golf. It's all in the details, the technique, and there are at least fifteen things to think about while swimming if I want to be efficient at propelling myself through water. Elbows up, chin tucked, don't rotate too far when turning your head to breathe, keep one eye on the bottom of the pool, kick from the hips, reach, but don't overreach, breathe from alternate sides, exhale completely before taking a breath, check your position every tenth stroke, don't cross your midline with your stroke, press your chest down, and above all, relax. That last one is the hardest of all for me.
No wonder swimming wears me out! I see swimming as a problem, and that is part of my problem with swimming. I describe myself as a poor swimmer, so that is exactly what I am. It finally dawned on me last week that possibly the best thing I can do to improve at swimming is to adjust my thinking and attitude about swimming in a positive direction. Create some swimming affirmations, if you will. I can comfortably swim one mile without stopping. Swimming is a fun way for me to challenge my abilities. Swimming is fun.
I actually had fun swimming for the first time in a long time last summer, when I visited Balmorhea State Park. It was such a delightful place to swim - a huge, clear, spring-fed West Texas desert oasis, with a smattering of native fish sharing the 25 foot deep pool - that I jumped off the high-dive with the excitement and glee of a kid, and challenged myself to swim across the widest parts of the pool, reveling so much in the wash of the cool clear waters that I forgot to be afraid. I consider San Solomon Springs to be a magical place. Why else would I take a two hour detour for a chance at another swim on my return trip? I am not the kind of person to plan my journeys around swimming opportunities. Accessing those positive memories of swimming for pure enjoyment and adventure would probably serve me well in my swim practice.
No wonder swimming wears me out! I see swimming as a problem, and that is part of my problem with swimming. I describe myself as a poor swimmer, so that is exactly what I am. It finally dawned on me last week that possibly the best thing I can do to improve at swimming is to adjust my thinking and attitude about swimming in a positive direction. Create some swimming affirmations, if you will. I can comfortably swim one mile without stopping. Swimming is a fun way for me to challenge my abilities. Swimming is fun.
I actually had fun swimming for the first time in a long time last summer, when I visited Balmorhea State Park. It was such a delightful place to swim - a huge, clear, spring-fed West Texas desert oasis, with a smattering of native fish sharing the 25 foot deep pool - that I jumped off the high-dive with the excitement and glee of a kid, and challenged myself to swim across the widest parts of the pool, reveling so much in the wash of the cool clear waters that I forgot to be afraid. I consider San Solomon Springs to be a magical place. Why else would I take a two hour detour for a chance at another swim on my return trip? I am not the kind of person to plan my journeys around swimming opportunities. Accessing those positive memories of swimming for pure enjoyment and adventure would probably serve me well in my swim practice.
03 April 2007
How Sweet It Isn't
Lesson Learned: When you have track practice at 6pm, eat something more substantial than a chocolate chip cookie at 3pm, yet more bland than a hummus and sprouts sandwich.
March 17 track practice started with the usual warm up and drills. Drills are best done in groups, it makes the silliness factor manageable when you're doing high knee kicks, butt kicks, grapevines, and backwards running. Then we were charged with running three 1 mile repeats, with a generous 3 minutes rest between. One at warm up pace, one at a hard pace, and one at race pace. After the hard mile, I was sure I was going to toss that cookie from 3pm. I backed off my pace a bit for the last mile, but was still nauseous when I finished. I mentioned it to the coach who said "great! that's exactly where you should be!" Ugh. I run alot, but never have I experienced that level of exertion. The consequences of both not eating enough, and eating something with lots of sugar, which I'm not accustomed to. I'm learning to make better food choices before my workouts.
March 24 track practice was warm up and drills, then 10 x 400 with 1 minute rest between. Those 3 minutes seem much more generous today. After the third 400, however, the hummus sandwich I ate before practice seemed like less and less of a good idea.
This past summer, I gave up almost all sugar. I allowed for things sweetened with fruit juice, evaporated cane juice, and honey. I also made exceptions for special occasions and birthdays. Since starting training, I've been more lax about eating sugar, mostly because I'm burning so many calories, but I'm still pretty sensitive to sugar. If I eat too much, my tongue feels like it got burnt, and I notice when food is overly or unnaturally sweet. For example, I had a can of tomato soup that I thought would be good with the bit of fresh basil and half & half I needed to use up. In the past, it was the high sodium I always noticed when I ate canned soups. But with the first spoonful, all I tasted was sweetness. Not what I was expecting. I checked the back of the can and the second ingredient was high fructose corn syrup. Bleah. I had to throw out the rest. Another time, I got a sugar cookie at Whole Foods. Its crispy, chewy texture was just the way I like it, but something was a bit off. I tried adding a sprinkle of salt and voilà, the perfect cookie. Just not to be eaten before running!
This picture gives a general idea of how training is going so far. That is, if I'm not swimming, biking, or running, this is how I feel:
Ready for a nap. At these times, I remember that I'm not doing this just for me, but to help others win the fight against cancer. To lend your support and help find a cure for leukemia, lymphoma, and myeloma, just follow the donate link in the sidebar.
19 March 2007
reading Joseph Campbell
After sitting quietly on my bookshelf for over five years, the time was apparently right for me to take a crack at Joseph Campbell's The Masks of God Vol. II Oriental Mythology. Described succintly on the back cover as "An exploration of Eastern mythology as it developed into the distinctive religions of Egypt, India, China, and Japan."
Heavy reading, as in, I can manage maybe two or three pages before I'm done when I read before bed. I've actually written down several words from this book to look up in the dictionary later, which is unusual for me. PBS aired a Joe Campbell video during their last couple of fund drives, and I really liked the way he lectured. He had a very lyrical and poetic way of relating the stories of myths of the ages, and when it gets really challenging to understand his writing, it helps if I imagine that I'm listening to him speak the words on the page.
Early in the book, he uses a simple phrase to elucidate the main focus of Indian and Far Eastern spirituality: "All is illusion, let it go," and "All is in order, let it come," respectively. Further, in India, meditation is with eyes closed, in Japan, with eyes open. Both have the goal of release, but each is different. What a fantastic encapsulation.
Heavy reading, as in, I can manage maybe two or three pages before I'm done when I read before bed. I've actually written down several words from this book to look up in the dictionary later, which is unusual for me. PBS aired a Joe Campbell video during their last couple of fund drives, and I really liked the way he lectured. He had a very lyrical and poetic way of relating the stories of myths of the ages, and when it gets really challenging to understand his writing, it helps if I imagine that I'm listening to him speak the words on the page.
Early in the book, he uses a simple phrase to elucidate the main focus of Indian and Far Eastern spirituality: "All is illusion, let it go," and "All is in order, let it come," respectively. Further, in India, meditation is with eyes closed, in Japan, with eyes open. Both have the goal of release, but each is different. What a fantastic encapsulation.
18 March 2007
Training Recap Week 2
I survived the second week of training, and added some new workouts to the mix, which meant whole new realms of soreness. The week began with a brick workout early Saturday morning. We were rerouted to the Veloway because of fog, which also meant (blessedly!) a slightly shorter workout than originally planned. 18 miles (6 laps) on the veloway, followed by a 2 mile run, then another 2 laps of the velowaty, and a one mile run. It's been so long since I've done this much endurance training, that I've forgotten the importance of eating during the workout. Thus, it wasn't until I'd finished the last mile of the run that I realized I should've eaten something before the second leg of the bike. Lesson learned.
The Sunday morning run was great - weather was not too cold for shorts, and I surprised myself by finishing the 6.9 mile Mopac to I-35 loop in just under an hour. The drills following were a challenge, though, because I'd worn the wrong socks, and felt a blister developing on my big toe.
Monday night's swim practice, I noticed some improvement on my kick drills on my back, as in, less water up my nose. The lesson there is to relax, one of the biggest challenges for me in the water. By the fourth length, I was actually able to focus on my kick, as opposed to not getting water up my nose. Tuesday morning swim workout involved an incremental mile swim. Swimming just wears me out, but the coaching is helping.
Tuesday's track practice was canceled due to rain, so Gracie & I took to the track on our own Wednesday morning. Six 800's at 5k pace. I have no idea what my 5k pace is, so we guessed. Apparently it was fast enough to wear Gracie out. By number four, she was lagging almost a leash length behind, so I put her in the car to rest while I finished the last two 800's. I don't think there's a marathon in Gracie's future.
Wednesday I checked out the core workout. From the start I thought. this must be what marine basic training is like. I have never been so sore, and so aware of my lack of strength, than I was after this workout. It was by far the most challenging workout I've ever experienced. Will I go back? Probably.
I started coming down with a cold or sinus infection Thursday, and it's no fun to cough and sneeze when you're sore to the core. In an attempt to sweat out the sinus toxins, I went to my first spin class Thursday night. I was pleasantly surprised that we had class on the second story deck overlooking a lake. I'd much rather be out moving, whether running or biking, than on a treadmill or stationary bike, so it helped to have scenery and a breeze. It was also good because I don't usually vary my workout on the bike, and there was a lot of variation to the spin class. On my bike, I tend to shift to an easier gear anytime resistance increases, say on a hill, because I like to keep a high cadence. Biking is a lot like running to me, an aerobic exercise, more about cardiovascular endurance, not strength. So I was "feeling the burn," as Jane Fonda used to say, as we cranked up the resistance and pushed through some "hills" on the spin bikes. Still, I couldn't tell if the cold felt better or worse after the workout
Friday, I rested. I'd planned to bike to work, but thought the better of it since I was under the weather, and still sore from Wednesday.
So, that's week 2. More soreness, some sickness, some newness, and I keep showing up and hoping that my body will adjust to the demands I keep making on it.
The Sunday morning run was great - weather was not too cold for shorts, and I surprised myself by finishing the 6.9 mile Mopac to I-35 loop in just under an hour. The drills following were a challenge, though, because I'd worn the wrong socks, and felt a blister developing on my big toe.
Monday night's swim practice, I noticed some improvement on my kick drills on my back, as in, less water up my nose. The lesson there is to relax, one of the biggest challenges for me in the water. By the fourth length, I was actually able to focus on my kick, as opposed to not getting water up my nose. Tuesday morning swim workout involved an incremental mile swim. Swimming just wears me out, but the coaching is helping.
Tuesday's track practice was canceled due to rain, so Gracie & I took to the track on our own Wednesday morning. Six 800's at 5k pace. I have no idea what my 5k pace is, so we guessed. Apparently it was fast enough to wear Gracie out. By number four, she was lagging almost a leash length behind, so I put her in the car to rest while I finished the last two 800's. I don't think there's a marathon in Gracie's future.
Wednesday I checked out the core workout. From the start I thought. this must be what marine basic training is like. I have never been so sore, and so aware of my lack of strength, than I was after this workout. It was by far the most challenging workout I've ever experienced. Will I go back? Probably.
I started coming down with a cold or sinus infection Thursday, and it's no fun to cough and sneeze when you're sore to the core. In an attempt to sweat out the sinus toxins, I went to my first spin class Thursday night. I was pleasantly surprised that we had class on the second story deck overlooking a lake. I'd much rather be out moving, whether running or biking, than on a treadmill or stationary bike, so it helped to have scenery and a breeze. It was also good because I don't usually vary my workout on the bike, and there was a lot of variation to the spin class. On my bike, I tend to shift to an easier gear anytime resistance increases, say on a hill, because I like to keep a high cadence. Biking is a lot like running to me, an aerobic exercise, more about cardiovascular endurance, not strength. So I was "feeling the burn," as Jane Fonda used to say, as we cranked up the resistance and pushed through some "hills" on the spin bikes. Still, I couldn't tell if the cold felt better or worse after the workout
Friday, I rested. I'd planned to bike to work, but thought the better of it since I was under the weather, and still sore from Wednesday.
So, that's week 2. More soreness, some sickness, some newness, and I keep showing up and hoping that my body will adjust to the demands I keep making on it.
15 March 2007
Reason #73 to like New Mexico
Last year, a group of scientists got together and decided that Pluto is not a planet after all, much to the dismay of the discoverer of Pluto, who happens to be from New Mexico. Well, the New Mexico legislature recently passed a law stating that Pluto is indeed a planet when her orbit crosses the state of New Mexico. Fabulous legislative work! As one who has always been fond of the runt of the litter (being one myself) I think this is great news.
Also, thanks to NPR for broadcasting this news tidbit.
Also, thanks to NPR for broadcasting this news tidbit.
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