Back in the saddle...and face down on the trail...

I had a 15 mile trail run planned yesterday.  My marathon is about 2 1/2 weeks away, so I have to get in my long runs.  But after the prior day's disastrous bike ride I really felt the need to rekindle my love of riding.  So I decided to ride the 12 miles to the trail head, run the 15 miles, then ride home.  It would likely be almost a 5 hour workout.  It seemed like overdoing it, but I didn't want to skip or postpone the imperative long run in my marathon buildup, and at the same time I didn't want to wait too long to get in an enjoyable ride.  So I asked Karin if she thought it was too much.  She said, "Nah.  It can just be an easy ride.  Besides, that's what you do."

Turns out it was too much.

I actually managed my time badly (Who, me???) and got a late start, so I had to cut the run short to make sure I wasn't riding home in the dark.  It's a good thing I did.  I only ran 12 miles, and I was dragging around mile 8, which is about the time my toe caught a rock and I went flying and landed face down on the trail.  I was bruised and scraped up on my knees, arms and face, and covered in dirt from knees to nose!  I dusted myself off and finished the run and ride home, but today I am just exhausted and sore everywhere!  I assume the general all-over fatigue is from the workout itself, and the soreness is from the fall.

But I actually did have an incredibly enjoyable ride, even on the way home, when I was exhausted and sore.  Perhaps it was because my only goal was to get home, just like my only goal on the way there was to reach the trail.  And that's when I realized that, although I do love cycling, I don't have the heart of a cyclist.  What I have is the heart of a Bike Commuter.  I love to ride when the goal is just fun and fitness, and especially, to get somewhere.  To get to work, get to the trail, get to the gym, or just get to lunch.  In regular shoes.  On platform petals.  That is my kind of riding.

Unfortunately, I sense that is not the kind of riding that leads to a successful Ironman.  So I will actually have to do goal-oriented, speed-specific, challenging rides.  A lot of them.  But I will make a concentrated effort not to lose my bike commuter roots, and every once in a while, put on my running shoes, slide casual capris over my padded shorts, and ride the 15 miles to Sunday brunch.

Another little blow to the ego, followed by new hope

www.mapmyride.com data for "Spirit-crushing Ride"

So I was just on www.mapmyride.com putting in the route for the "hilly" ride that nearly brings me to tears (or, sometimes, actually brings me to tears).  Turns out that 3 mile spirit-crushing climb in the middle of it is only rated a "Cat 5".  Otherwise known as "The least difficult of all the categorized climbs."

Well that is unfortunate.

I have been whining like a little baby over the least difficult of all the categorized climbs.

Slightly more encouraging is the knowledge that (according to the same elevation data) there are actually 2 climbs of nearly equal length and intensity on that ride.  So 6 total miles of constant climbing.  So by the time I hit the middle of the second stretch of climbing, it's no wonder I am near a melt down!

But the best news of all is this: The above-mentioned route actually has about 300 ft. more climbing than the Ironman AZ bike route!  So once I am past the February 9th ride (featuring "rolling hills and some long, gradual ascents") where I will be trying to keep up with my dad, my training may actually become easier!

A BAD, BAD DAY

I had a pretty productive training week last week.  It looked like this:

Mon: 32 mile (hilly) ride
         40 min. full-body strength training
Tue: 45 min. trail run
Wed: 13 mi. run + 1 hr. hike
Thur: 28 mile (hilly) ride
Fri: 45 min. swim (focus on torso rotation)
Sat: Rest day
Sun: 30 min. run w/ 6 X 30 sec. sprints

Yesterday I attempted the 28-mile ride that makes me want to cry...but I actually started crying before I even got to the "hard" part!  There was a headwind which I later found out was about 13 mph.  My shoes were acting up AGAIN! I couldn't even clip in because I was afraid I couldn't get out quickly, which is not an option on the streets where I ride.  There is a lot of traffic and a lot of side streets, which I never pass without slowing down and making eye contact with the driver, because they very often don't realize I am there!  So I can't be struggling to unclip from my pedals when a car rolls through a stop sign before it sees me.  And I was so tired of riding on crappy roads, which is mostly all there is around me.  I rode part of the ride on the canal bike path to get away from traffic, but the surface conditions on the path were even worse than the road!  And there was no way I was going to attempt the spirit-crushing hill not being able to clip in.  It was such an awful ride.  It was supposed to be 28 miles, but it ended up only being 13.  But it felt like 28.  I have never hated cycling as much as I did yesterday.  I was regretting ever signing up for Ironman, since it means months of long, hard rides in my future.  I used to like bike riding.  Back when it was fun.  When there were no goals.

We all have days like that, right?

Right???

Tough rides and tweaked shoes

Yesterday I did a 28-mile ride, on the same route I rode Monday.  It is a very hilly route, and there is about a 3-mile stretch in the middle of the ride that seems to go uphill forever!  I routinely sink into single digits on that hill.  I also routinely swear I am giving up cycling altogether on that hill.  I intend to keep riding that route multiple times a week until I reach a level of competency on it where I don't want to cry like a baby and curse like a sailor during that 3-mile hill of torture.

The already significant torture of the hill was compounded by the fact that I have been having serious problems with my shoes.  I adjusted my cleats a little farther forward a few weeks ago, and since then they have been nothing but trouble.  After a few times of unclipping at intersections, the cleats somehow get slightly twisted, so they are at an angle, and as a result they get stuck in the pedal.  At several intersections and at the top of one particularly arduous hill I was literally stuck to my pedals.  I almost pulled a muscle trying to get my shoe out of the pedal!  It was terrifying, and I ended up riding the last 12 miles of the ride not clipped in, during the hilliest sections.  I know I screwed them up when I adjusted them, since I never had a problem before that.  Now I have to figure out how to fix them.

Slow down!

I had an epiphany during the fifth mile of my 13 mile run today.  At the end of the 4th mile I was already tired, wondering how I was going to get through 9 more miles.  At that point I turned off the street onto a dirt path, and within a few minutes I suddenly felt fantastic!  I mean, I literally said, out loud, "Wow! I feel fantastic!"  When I looked down at my GPS I realized I had inadvertently slowed down by almost 10 seconds a mile!  That's when it hit me: Going just a little bit slower feels better!  I felt like I could easily go on for the next 9 miles and maybe longer.  Because now I was actually running what my body apparently considered an easy pace.

This was truly a revelation for me.  I have been running for a long time, and I consider myself a fairly intelligent person, so I really should have made this connection a long time ago.  After all, common sense, race results, and years of various speed workouts would dictate that when I run longer, I run slower.  Conversely, when I run a shorter distance, I am able to run faster.  And yet, somehow, I never turned that logic around to realize that if I choose to run a little slower, I can run comfortably for longer.  When I am struggling part way through a long run, I don't recall ever making the conscious effort to slow down.  I often slow down eventually, unintentionally, but by then it is too late.  I will struggle the rest of the way.  If I go slower early, before I need to, I can maintain a steady, comfortable pace the whole way.

This logic is so simple, so basic, it is astounding (and embarrassing) that I didn't realize it earlier. I mean, it's ridiculous!  Going a little slower feels better.  Of course it does!  That is just common sense!  That's why I hate speed work.  It hurts.  Slower hurts less.  I have considered a couple of reasons for this mental block: 1. The pace that my body feels is easy is slower than I think I should be going and 2. It goes against my instincts to slow down.  The whole point of training is to get faster.  So I would never tell myself, while training, to go slower!  But I sure will now!

My dad's age

So I just found out my dad is actually only 61, not 62 like I thought!  This is typical.  The whole year that he was 55 I thought he was 57.  Anyway, this is good news.  It is much less embarrassing to get dropped by a guy who is ONLY 61!

Workouts!

Just finished a 32 mile ride!  Actually it was a hell of a workout.  I rode 6 miles to the gym where I met my friend and did a 40-minute full body strength workout.  Then I rode a 20 mile hilly course from the gym, then 6 miles home from the gym.  Riding a hilly course immediately after doing a couple hundred squats and lunges was pretty brutal, but now I feel strong and I get to eat pizza!  The ride was abysmally slow.  I know I didn't used to be this slow.  But that was a couple of years ago when I was riding 5 days a week.  So hopefully if I just keep riding I will get faster.  That is how it works, right?

Yesterday I swam for an hour, including a butt-load of drills.  It turns out that if you do multiple long sets of just pulls, or just kicks, when you put it all back together and use your whole body you feel like a superhero!