If The Shoe Fits: A Fairytale of Finding The Right Shoe
Posted by: fastfeetpt on: September 23, 2009
In the tale of Cinderella, the glass slipper she wore was an important component of the story. This sparkly accessory was created to fit her and only her – a custom high heel if such a thing exists. The perfect fit of this glass slipper brought about a beautiful ending to the fairytale. The tale of a perfect fitting shoe can seem like a fairytale because the pain created by an imperfect fit can have so many adverse effects, including disruption of athletic endeavors or fitness routines. Choosing the right athletic shoe can sometimes be the difference between injury or pain-free, unrestricted activity. So the question is: How do I find my glass slipper?
Athletic shoes have changed considerably over the past 30 years. The great variety of shoes available sometimes makes it difficult to figure out which shoe is the best. The first step for anyone is to start by going specifically to an athletic specialty store and trying on shoes that are specific to the sport you are performing. A good store should have sales representatives that are knowledgeable as to how each different athletic shoe should fit and be useful for that sport. The following is a list of general rules for all athletic shoes:
- Look for brand names (absolutely NO generic brands as these lose shape and support quickly)
- Try on shoes made by a company that has a solid history of creating the shoe for your specific sport
- Comfort is key – a shoe that feels kind of uncomfortable in the store will kill you during activity and haunt you after activity
- Walk, jog, or recreate your sport while wearing the shoe in the store
- Try on a LOT of shoes; you can even try on two different shoes at once to rule out bad fits
Running and walking shoes tend to have a wider variety to select from compared to other sport specific shoes. Picking the correct fit for these types of shoes may be trickier. Due to the constant, repetitive pounding our feet take with running or walking, getting a proper fitting shoe is very important to decrease stress on the foot, leg, knees, and back. The best place to start for purchasing a good running or walking shoe is at a running shoe store. These places typically have a staff trained in running specifics, unlike general athletic stores. The same rules as mentioned above apply to running and walking shoes. However, these shoes are broken down further by the type of foot a person has.
A person’s foot type is determined by how much the arch (or the inside portion of their foot) drops when they stand up. As one stands up, this arch will naturally drop a little, which is also known as pronating. Most every person will have some pronation, which is good because this allows the arch of the foot to act as a shock absorber. A person whose arch does not drop much or at all is known as an underpronator or has a rigid foot. A person whose arch drops a lot or changes to a flat foot is known as an overpronator. This can be determined by a properly trained sales representative or some medical professionals. You may also do a home test where you wet your foot down and walk over a piece of paper. A normal arch will show the imprint of the heel, roughly half of the outside of the foot, the pads of the front of the foot, and the toes. A high, rigid arch will show the imprint of the heel, a thin strip or portion or the outside of the foot, the pads of the front of the foot (with less emphasis on the pads by the big and second toes), and the toes. A flat arch or over pronating foot will show the imprint of the heel, over half of the bottom of the foot, the pads of the front of the foot (with more emphasis on the pads by the big and second toes), and the toes. After you know your foot type, you can narrow down the number of shoes to try on. The three types of shoes are as follows:
- Neutral or Cushion Shoes – for people that have a normal arch or a high, rigid arch
- Stability Shoes – for people that tend to over pronate slightly
- Motion Control Shoes – for people that greatly over pronate or have flat feet
When considering the size of running or walking shoes to try on, the “Rule of Thumb” applies. Running or walking shoes should always allow for a thumb nail width of space between your longest toe and the tip of the shoe. As we walk and run, our foot spreads out. Therefore, if the shoe is too small, the toe will hit the end of the shoe, eventually causing damage to the toenail. I think everyone can agree that black toenails do not look very nice, nor do they feel very good.
Another component of running and walking shoes are the “Plus” type. These shoes are meant to be used by men who weigh over 180 pounds and women who weigh over 150 pounds. These shoes will compress optimally for these weight ranges. They can be too stiff for people weighing under these ranges which can lead to injuries.
Now that you’ve found a good shoe, you may want to decide if a shoe insert would be beneficial. Shoe inserts are typically used to add cushioning or to add arch support to a shoe. For most shoes, it is safe to add a flexible, neoprene type cushion insert for added comfort. For people that tend to over pronate, a shoe insert that is more rigid along the arch may be beneficial; however, these should not be used with motion control shoes. When using any shoe insert, always remove the original insert that comes with the shoe.
Now that you know how to spot your “glass slipper,” make sure to check for cracks. Running and walking shoes will last for 3 to 6 months, or 300 to 500 miles of use. If you have any doubts about picking the right shoe, always find a local expert. Enjoy your activities!
My First Love … Trail Running
Posted by: fastfeetpt on: September 10, 2009
When I was a kid, my younger brother and I would get antsy when rain would pour down outside. We would run to the front window of our home to monitor the water level of our creek. We would get dressed in old shorts and shirts and run outside to play in the rain, swinging on our rope swing before dropping a perfect ten landing into a mud puddle. By the time we were done playing, which was normally when the rain slowed, we would be soaked with sludgy water. This might have been foreshadowing of my future love affair with trail running.
I began trail running when I was 14 years old as a high school freshman participating in cross country. I loved the variety and unpredictability that this running provided. I enjoyed smelling the leaves and the dirt and catching the occasional glimpse of nature, such as a deer crossing the trail in front of me. I have continued trail running since then. I feel back to basics when I trail run. It makes me feel alive, centered, and complete.
So it is no surprise to me that for the past month and a half (post half Ironman), the only running I have done has been off road oriented. My training motivation has been low but the thought of dirt paths excites me every time. My last solo trail run was a debacle of misdirection, gigantic wasps dragging off tarantulas, and imagination gone wild with the slightest rustle of the brush. It also reminded me of the request a friend had made for me to blog about how to do trail running. You know who you are.
Trail running does not require any more equipment than regular running. You can get away with using regular road shoes, especially in sunny, sandy, San Diego. Trail shoes are a good idea if you are running in rocky or muddy terrain. A water bottle or fuel belt is smart if it is warm out or if you could fill a salt water tank by squeezing your shirt after a run. For beginners, carrying a little water would be wise, regardless of the length or intensity of the run. For more experienced runners, carry water if the run is longer than 45-60 minutes, especially if intensity or temperatures are high. A watch with GPS is a nice addition, although not necessary; if you get lost in the grocery store, you should probably invest in one of these. Sunglasses are recommended because they help cut the glare of the sun down, which allows you to see the trail more easily. Some people find that yellow lenses further accentuate the details of the trail because they enhance depth perception. Other people like brown lenses because they reduce high glare. An extra change of clothes in the car is a must if running in a damp area.
Trails are not normally hard to find. Many book stores will have trail running or hiking books specific for the area, and they give good descriptions of the trails, directions to get there, maps of the trail, and specifics such as distance and elevation gain. Another easy way to locate a trail is to search the websites of local running groups or to talk with the sales representatives of local running shoe stores. The websites www.trails.com and www.americantrails.org are helpful. In smaller areas that may not have a running shoe store or running books specific to the area, it has been helpful for me to look at the Conservation Department websites or to search for state parks. The smallest town I ever worked in had a population of less than 3,000 people, which meant no trail running books and no running shoe store. But a ten minute drive down the road would take you to HaHa Tonka State Park, which provided one of my all-time favorite trail runs. So, you’ve got your gear and you know where to go. Now you’ve got to know how to physically do the running.
Road running is dominated by propulsion in a straight forward plane. Trail running is more equal opportunity and shares the spotlight with two more planes (side to side and rotational). For the balance and agility challenged, trail running can seem intimidating. Like any new activity or sport, it takes practice for our body to learn how to move properly and efficiently. When trail running, making steps lighter is important. Softening your steps may prevent solidly planting your foot on an awkwardly angled rock thereby spraining an ankle. Stepping lightly allows for an easy transition into a new line of travel. Part of running lightly involves a less harsh or absent heel strike because this slows momentum. The arms are also held a little further from the trunk than when running on the road, especially when running downhill or through technical areas; this doesn’t mean running with your arms held up at your side like a chicken at all times. The arms help improve balance. Don’t allow your arms to flail around like Phoebe from “Friends”; instead think of the soft landing of a bird or what happens to your arms when you jump on a trampoline. For uphills, drive your arms more to enhance power and propel up the hill from your toes. On the really steep hills, you may not even have heel contact.
Downhills are the trickiest parts. Aside from the use of the arms to counterbalance the body, you might notice that the feet or legs will turn outward just a little bit more. This tends to soften the heel strike a little and gives the feeling of a wider base of support to improve balance. Running downhill is when staying quick and light on the feet really matters. Keeping your weight shifted slightly forward will also decrease the tendency to have a hard heel strike. Another trick of the trade is finding the best or safest line on the path. Keep your eyes focused on the trail 5 to 10 feet ahead. The best line will normally be more packed down and lighter or darker in color. Mountain bikers are very effective at finding the coveted best line (proof that they don’t all have a death wish), so if you are unable to find it on your own, just look for the place with the most tire marks.
Another part of trail running that I find rather fun is the sharp turns or switchbacks. There is something invigorating about zigging and zagging, winding through a path, with unseen trail greeting you around the corner. To keep momentum going, try to bank the turns and lean slightly towards the inside of the turn. Imagine you are a race car on a curvy track. On narrow trails, also known as single track, you may want to raise your arms a little more if it is brushy or bring them a little forward so you can shield your face. Be prepared to twist your body away from waist and chest high branches.
Another important topic on trail running is safety. While we all want to escape from society when we trail run, it is not a bad idea to keep your cellphone handy when running alone. Accidents can happen. If the thought of nature’s serenity being wrecked by your keyboard generated, generic salsa music ringtone makes you physically ill, then turn the ringer and vibration off. Mace is another item that might bring a sense of safety when running alone. After all, there’s bears in them there woods. Having a running buddy is a good idea (safety in numbers). I’m a sucker for running trails solo, so I tend to send a text or call a friend, letting them know where I’m running and how long it should take me. I send a text or make a call after I’m done running so they don’t send out the search party. Lastly, not so much for safety but for health, a post-run tick check is important. Some areas of the country have more of a need for this, but even in Southern California, I’ve found them on me. A couple minutes spent looking for ticks is well worth it when the possibility of Lyme’s Disease is present.
The final topic is trail etiquette. Trails attract hikers, mountain bikers, equestrians, and families. Traditionally, it is thought that all should yield to equestrians, then runners and hikers, then mountain bikers. This is often thought to be due to safety issues (easily spooked horses, slower individuals, etc.). My personal opinion is apply common sense. Though you might have the right of way, it is not a bad idea to allow the faster moving individual to pass. Don’t sneak up on any person or animal; slow down, announce that you are there and ready to pass. Don’t blast down a blind curve (not picking on mountain bikers as I am one myself). Don’t occupy the entire width of the trail with your friends. Leave the headphones at home or on very low volume so you can be aware of other people using the trail around you (this is a safety issue as well since it is smart to be able to hear mountain bikers approaching). Don’t make your own trail because this sometimes destroys important vegetation that controls erosion of your favorite trail. I think it goes without saying to not litter. When possible, get involved with trail maintenance; it seems that mountain bikers are normally very good about this part. And lastly, keep in mind that we all use the trails because we all share a love for trails…to be direct, we should not be having turf battles over who can use what trail if we are all respectful of the trail and each other.
My final, personal take on trail running is the following: Many trail runners tend to feel their heart get lighter when they find themselves alone on a trail, instead of feeling anxious at the lack of people. They seek out runs with tree cover, greenery, or epic views. This is the runner that will feel no malice at the 3/4 mile 15% grade hill as long as it provides a great view at the top (I could be exaggerating). This is the runner who has probably found themself at a fork in a trail at some point in time, and accidentally run a mile or two before realizing they picked the wrong path. I know this sounds a little cheesy… that’s because it is. Realize that your pace on trails will tend to be a little slower, but also know that it is a very effective way to build power into your running, which results in more speed on the road. So happy trails everyone (couldn’t help myself)!
This Office Is Killing Me!
Posted by: fastfeetpt on: August 11, 2009
I believe it is fair to say that most people don’t think of their office workspace as their most comfortable place to sit. Reasons include uncomfortable chairs, awkward desk heights, poor lighting, bad keyboard or mouse positioning, and the dreaded piles of work that haunt their desks. At least one third of our day is spent at work. If we have to be there for so long, shouldn’t it at least be comfortable? Some people know their workspace is uncomfortable but they just deal with it. These are the same people that go home every day with raging neck or back pain, but they still show up the next day and sit at the same workspace, only to leave again with the same pain day after day. The real culprit that keeps this cycle going is poor workspace set up, which promotes poor posture.
Poor posture is a physical therapist’s arch nemesis. We spend an infinite amount of time trying to improve the posture of our patients, to the point where we begin to sound like a nagging mother. Low back pain, neck pain, headaches, and carpal tunnel syndrome are just a few problems that can result from poor posture at work. Due to the fact that posture is a learned habit, it takes a lot of time and practice to unlearn poor posture and then to learn correct posture. We can help our body learn proper posture more quickly by giving it the right tools, or the proper workspace set up, that positions our body in good alignment. This is where work ergonomics comes into play. Ergonomics is the study of the work environment and equipment and how to match them to the human body.
A good start is a quality desk chair. Desk chairs should have a full back so the lumbar (low back) area can be supported. If the low back slumps, the upper back will follow. Some chairs have a lumbar support adjustment built into the chair, which helps support the back in a position of upright posture. However, a rolled up towel or small pillow can substitute as a lumbar support just as well, and is a cheap alternative to buying a lumbar roll in a store. It is also important to have armrests. The armrests should be set in a way that allows the elbows to have a bend of 90 degrees (an L shape). The chair height should allow the feet to be flat on the ground with the knees and hips bent to 90 degrees. For the vertically challenged, if the feet can’t touch the ground, a stool or phone books can be placed under the feet. This decreases the pressure on the back of the thighs and knees.
The next place to check is the computer monitor height. This is especially important for neck and back posture. If the monitor is too high, it will cause the neck to extend too far. If the monitor is too low, it causes the neck to bend forward too much or it will cause a person to slump so that they sink to the level of the monitor. Proper height of the computer monitor is where the top of the screen is at an eye or just below eye level. Monitor height can be changed by raising or lowering the desk or the chair. Another quick fix can be performed by putting a phone book under the monitor. The screen should be within 20 to 25 inches of your face. Computer monitors should also be kept in line with the body so that the head does not have to be turned to the side for prolonged periods. Proper computer monitor alignment should promote alignment of the head such that the ears are directly above the shoulders from a side view.
The final component is the positioning of the keyboard and mouse pad. With the arms on the armrests at the proper position, the keyboard and mouse should rest at about the same height as the elbows. The wrists should be in a neutral position, bent neither up nor down.
Along with proper office ergonomics and posture, it is a great idea to take a break every half hour to hour of work. This is not the type of break where you chit chat at the water cooler for 10 minutes (a physical therapist probably won’t back you up on this if your boss asks); this is just a minute or two to stand up and change positions momentarily. It is important to change the position your joints are in periodically to decrease pressure on joints and muscles; if you don’t believe this, imagine straightening your finger after it has held the bent position for an hour. Chances are it will feel achy and stiff, much like your back feels after sitting in the slumped position for an hour. Doing shoulder rolls, with a focus on pulling the shoulder blades back, is a good technique for decreasing neck and upper back stiffness, while promoting good posture. Stretching the forearm by gently pulling the back of the hand toward the forearm with the other hand is a good way to prevent carpal tunnel syndrome.
Office ergonomics is designed to make your workspace fit your body, instead of adjusting your body to your workspace. The above tips are basics which can be implemented by the average person. A more in-depth evaluation is normally available through your employer or by a physical therapist. Even if your work is painful, your workspace doesn’t have to be. Happy computing!
Post Endurance Race Blahhhs (AKA Depression)
Posted by: fastfeetpt on: August 4, 2009
Last week I found myself feeling unreasonably down. Was it my slow work schedule? Was it the fact that all friends I called were unavailable? Was it that magical “time of the month”? Thankfully, I was able to be distracted from these emotions by dorking out while watching the new Harry Potter movie with my boyfriend. But the escape from my reality was short lived. Where were these feelings coming from? Dumbledore’s death was sad but come on! Upon reflection the next morning, I realized I had experienced this feeling previously…after my Chicago marathon.
It is well known in the endurance and ultra-endurance community. It goes by many names: post race depression, PMS (post marathon syndrome), the marathon or post race blues, post competition slump, etc. The feeling of “being down” tends to happen to athletes after they complete a major competition. It may also cause an athlete to be excessively tired, irritable, and have decreased motivation. It may cause other athletes to go on a neurotic search for continued high level or large volume competition. Research does indicate that a person who perceives their performance in the completed event as poor may be more likely to experience this depressive mood state. However, it is not uncommon for those who did well or were satisfied with their performance to share in the blues. There are a couple reasons this occurs.
Imagine focusing on a goal for 4 to 6 months, pushing your body through fatigue to complete a second or third workout in a day, going to bed early on Friday and/or Saturday nights instead of going out for that much earned beer or two, waking up early on Friday and/or Saturday to complete a workout before your significant other is done dreaming, icing body parts that hurt only to use them again the next day, putting as much time into training as you might at a part-time job, and minding what you eat so as to avoid being nicknamed Captain Skidmark of the Hershey Highway on your upcoming bike ride. Keep in mind this is what you are doing repeatedly for 4 to 6 months. As this goal nears and you begin to decrease your training volume, your energy begins to return and your legs start to feel more refreshed. This triggers the building excitement you feel each time you move closer to that date you’ve circled on your calendar. Then comes the race expo. It can be a sensory overload of vendors selling shiny new gear, fellow athletes picking up registration packages, sponsors giving out the coveted free stuff (best free thing so far: a loaf of bread), and of course, some guy interrupting the music that is blasting out of speakers to give an occasional announcement about a pre-race talk. This really amps up the body. Then the start of the race blasts you into crazy mode with its cheers from participants right before the horn or the gun goes off. You are now in the race which you devoted the past 4 to 6 months to. And at long last, there is the finish line beckoning you in, telling you that you’ve met and smashed this difficult goal. You tested yourself and found new inner strength. You feel like you could walk on water (or maybe that is just your legs ready to give out). For the next couple days, you get to relive your moment again and again when friends, family, and co-workers ask you “So, how’d your race go?”. Maybe you even blog about it. Then, after 2 to 3 days (maybe a week if you’re lucky), it hits you…Now what am I going to do?
Endurance sports, such as marathon, triathlon, cycling, and ultramarathon, tend to attract type A personalities. People with type A personalities tend to be goal oriented, driven, competitive, time concious, and feel a need to be an over-achiever. Although not everyone doing these sports fit the type A personality, many still have some tendencies of this type. Many people complete this major life goal, and after basking in its glory for a couple days, they feel the compulsion to find another challenging goal to test themselves again — to find more validation. This happens even with many non-sport life events, such as graduating from college, having a baby, or winning a hot dog eating contest. While it is not entirely unhealthy to seek out another goal, it is problematic if one does not give themself adequate time to recover.
Another aspect that leads to a feeling of depression after a race is the large amount of free time the athlete has while they are recovering. It seems ridiculous to think that anyone who was spending 10 or more hours training each week would be stressed out by having more free time available. Every athlete thinks they will be so glad to lounge around for a couple weeks. However, the reality of it is that we get bored. Endurance athletes are used to being on the move and suddenly they are sitting still. For the athletes that belong to a club, they will continue to get emails about various “fun” workouts. This would be like taking a Jack Russell Terrier, putting it on a 2 foot leash, and placing a wind up toy just out of its reach. Or it might be similar to buckling a five year old into their carseat and parking next to the playground but not letting them out. Sometimes, it would seem that the recovery is psychologically more difficult than the race itself. The good news is that people with hobbies outside of their sport are less likely to feel bored because they are able to substitute an activity in the place of their workouts.
Is there a real medical reason for this feeling? Absolutely. After many hours of parusing research articles and medical books, it was apparent that there is great interest in the effect exercise has on mood state. An increased amount of dopamine has been found after participation in marathon. Dopamine is a neurotransmitter that is released when one experiences pleasure, which further improves mood state. The presence of dopamine also increases the sensation of motivation. When dopamine leaves the system, such as when endurance activity is over, it can lead to a feeling of depressed mood. Another angle is that the body craves the feeling of euphoria and motivation associated with dopamine’s presence; so, when this feeling is gone, the body seeks out the activity that releases dopamine. Another finding of research, which varies in the literature, is an increase in the release of beta-endorphins after exercise. It is controversial as to how much exercise, what intensity of exercise, and what type of exercise increases beta-endorphins. Some of the research states after an hour of moderate to intense exercise. Some research states after exhaustive and anaerobic treadmill running, but not submaximal outdoor running. Some research states after marathon running. Overall, the general idea is that beta-endorphins are a type of opioid that is naturally produced by our body. Opioids induce a state of euphoria, which in runners’ terms is recognized as a “runner’s high.” As we train more, our bodies become more sensitive to this opioid. If we exercise regularly, we are consistently releasing this natural opioid into our system, feeding our endurance addiction. During the recovery time after an endurance event, the amount of beta-endorphin decreases due to the lack of or decrease in exercise. It might be safe to assume that everyone knows what happens to an addict that can’t get their fix.
Fortunately, you don’t have to sit around waiting for the dopamine to kick in again. Some tips for surviving or avoiding the post race funk is as follows:
- Schedule another race event if you aren’t suffering burn out or overtraining syndrome; just remember to keep it several months out so you can properly recover and safely train.
- Pick a fun, non-competitive event to do, like a Turkey Trot, a mud run, a St. Pat’s Day Race, or just organize a small, social fun run with friends.
- Hang out with your friends that you blew off during your training period. They will zing you so much for being anti-social over the past couple months that you will forget that you want to train for another.
- Try out other non-endurance activities that you’ve never done. This gives you a new set of muscles to play with and provides entertainment for those watching you attempt the new activity.
- Revisit non-endurance activities or hobbies that you put aside for training. From personal experience, I can tell you knitting is a great past-time. It is repetitive, rhythmic, and has an end result…it’s like running only without the cardiovascular effort!
- Take a vacation. Actually go somewhere other than where you train.
- Set a new life goal that is not related to the endurance sport. Maybe now is the time to start that novel that has been knocking on your skull to get out.
- If you must and you are not injured, actively recover with walking, easy hiking, qigong, tai chi, or yoga. The walking is even better when done with a good friend (I affectionately call these bitch or gossip sessions).
- Pamper yourself, dammit! You forced your body to do something it found unmistakeably painful; so now you owe it big time. Get it a massage, schedule a salon visit to trim that mop you call hair on the top of your head, relax by the pool (don’t forget sunscreen), feed your body some junk food, buy it something.
- Watch some inspiring endurance sports movies. For this, I recommend Prefontaine, Saint Ralph, Breaking Away, American Flyers. Sorry, I’d love to recommend Chariots of Fire, but I kept falling asleep the 3 times I tried to watch it.
- Watch some funny endurance sports movies. For this, I only know of one…Run Fatboy Run. Although Saint Ralph can be kind of funny too. And the episode from the office titled “Fun Run” is pretty awesome as well.
I am now just two days shy of being two weeks out from my first half Ironman. It was about a week ago when I recognized my case of the post race pouts. I have ran once (a flat low tide run at the beach — a favorite of mine). I’ve stationary biked at a low level once for 35 minutes. I’ve done Pilates once. I swam casually in a pool for 20 minutes, including breaks. I have eaten an In And Out cheeseburger meal, a Wendy’s frosty, a cinnamon and sugar bagel, yogurt with toppings of carmel twice, multiple burritos, pizza, a blue Slushy, sake, Stella Artois beer, almond champagne, and Wyder’s raspberry cyder. I’ve gone to the beach 3 times. I pester my boyfriend for massages (this is actually nothing new). I’ve also got an Olympic distance triathlon scheduled in Malibu and I have the St. George Marathon (which I’m on the fence for since I want to give qualifying for Boston my best effort). Legs permitting, I may begin some light cycling and some trail running. As anyone can tell, I’m coping well.
How Many Wineries Can You Pass In One Race: The Tale of A Half Ironman
Posted by: fastfeetpt on: July 23, 2009
In April of this year, I began the gargantuan task of training for my first half Ironman. I chose the Vineman 70.3 in Guerneville, California, not knowing anything about the race other than the distance of the triathlon and the date. My longest bike ride at that point had been 28 miles. My longest swim had been a mile. I didn’t have any specific training schedule, but after a couple months of training, I was finally ready. I went to the pre-race expo to pick up my race packet, feeling excited since this was an Ironman event. I was expecting the grandeur that I had experienced at the Chicago Marathon race expo. My bubble was burst when I realized that the expo was nothing more than a bunch of vendors trying to sell me more gear. In the smothering heat, I set up my second transition area (bike to run) and headed back to the hotel to relax. Chris and I made spaghetti in the room and I ate the largest plate of spaghetti I could handle, giving a new meaning to carbo loading. Shortly after dinner, disaster struck. Chris looked down and found a flea on his leg. This was followed by quick repacking, loading the car, discussions with hotel managers about switching hotels, calling other hotels, a drive down the road to another hotel, airing out the only room left (a smoking room), and many tears of stress.
The next morning, I slugged out of bed. My mind was in a haze and my stomach felt like it wanted to reject my breakfast — I was nervous. Chris continually herded me onward as I kept spacing out. The drive to the race start was gorgeous, winding through vineyards, lush green trees, and occasional views of the river I’d be swimming in. We parked the car and began to walk to the race start, my nervousness growing. The first transition area (swim to bike) was a beehive of people. When I reached the three rows for my age group, I felt a new wave of dread as I realized that I couldn’t see a single open area for my bike. I squeezed my way down one row only to find no open spots in the entire row. I was about to hit full panic mode when I caught sight of an opening two rows away; the girls surrounding the opening had even been so thoughtful as to move their bikes so there would be more room for others. I began to set up my transition area. After a couple minutes, I casually asked the girl next to me what the time was. She responded and my heart rate shot up. I had 16 minutes left in which to get my race number marked on me, to put on my wetsuit and swim cap, to drop off my bag with Chris, and to get to the water for the start. It was the most panicked I’ve ever felt before a race and the fastest I’ve ever gotten into a wetsuit. I made it to the bank of the river in time to hear the race announcer telling my wave group to get in the water.
As I looked at the river, with the steam rising off the water and the sun peeking over the trees, I began to feel less stressed out. By the time I was treading water at the start, excitement had taken over. I spotted Chris on the river bank and waved my arms jubilantly, which was just useless since we all look the same in the water. The announcer asked if we were ready. I let out a “Whoooo!”, feeling happier and more confident. Then the horn went off. The water was a solid sea of women all around me, every one of us jostling the other. This seemed to last for over five minutes, longer than it has ever lasted, and I could sense that it was starting to bother me. I popped my head out of the water and did a couple breast strokes to get my bearings. Suddenly, I remembered, I didn’t care how fast I swam because for once, I was racing to finish instead of racing for time. I stuck my face back in the water and began humming while I swam to create my typical rhythm. The swim upstream seemed to take a while. The occasional smell of a campfire was nearly sickening. At one point, I got a little too close to shore, and my fingertips touched the bottom of the river. In keeping with previous races, I nearly swam into a volunteer who was on a kayak. Shortly before the turn-around buoys, the 29 and under men’s group caught up to us, laying out a new beating in the water. At the turn-around buoy, much to my delight, I saw people standing and walking through the water, which I decided was a great idea. It allowed me to breath more normally and fix my goggles for a moment before I resumed swimming again. The swim downstream was quick and it seemed like no time at all before I was emerging from the water. My smile spread across my face and I felt wonderful. I was done with my least favorite part!
As I headed out with my bike, I remembered that there was a slight hill right out of transition (more like a boat ramp), so I stopped and shifted my bike to the easiest gear. This received a “Now there’s a smart girl,” compliment from a race volunteer. I beamed at him and carried this out of the transition. I decided that I was good enough to be able to clip into my bike at the bottom of the hill instead of running to the top of the hill. A female spectator yelled, “That’s it number 929. Way to be!” Maybe it was the pressure of performing with an audience or maybe because I was still uncoordinated from the swim, but I fumbled the clip in 2 or 3 times. My female fan then shouted, “No pressure.” I just giggled and my foot clicked into place. I was up and pedaling.
At the first turn, I saw Chris taking my picture. I felt so invigorated. I checked my speed and realized I was flying along at 19 to 20 miles per hour, a little overzealous for me. I forced myself to watch the speed, deciding I would pedal only as fast as I felt I could easily do. A couple miles into the ride, I saw Chris again at another turn videotaping me. I knew this would be the last time I’d see him until I finished the ride. I was on my own. The ride seemed to fly by. I happily took in the scenery, something I had promised myself I would do. I thought of how I wished my dad could see what I was looking at, and I thought of how much Chris would have enjoyed the bike ride. Occasionally, a rider would pass me and shout out some encouragement or a compliment. I’m still unsure if they were just doing it at random or if I looked like I needed encouragement, but I decided to pay it forward by doing the same for others. At one point in the bike ride, I passed a large tree branch that was on a power line with emergency crews around it. I later found out that this branch had fallen on its own accord, and had taken out three racers in the process — what are the chances!
As my ride progressed, I noticed that my pace was holding at 16.9 miles per hour — the fastest pace I’ve held for longer than 10 miles — and I still felt great (maybe partially due to the awesome wheels that were put on my bike by my brother Clay who owns Bay Area Bikes in Oakland). I began to do the math and realized that I might be able to complete the bike 30 minutes faster than I originally predicted. I knew I still had Chalk Hill coming up soon. Around mile 41, I was wondering where this infamous hill was. I went over an incline around mile 43 and actually hoped that it wasn’t the “hill” that everyone had been so concerned about. It wasn’t. Finally, as I passed another woman, she smiled at me and said, “I don’t want to go up the next hill.” I returned her smile and replied, “I’ve been wondering where it is.” I had been mentally preparing for Chalk Hill for the past couple miles and was ready for the challenge since I consider hill climbing to be one of my secret weapons. I felt like it would be the true test of my cycling abilities. The further up the hill I went, the more people I passed, and my confidence grew. At the top of the hill, my chest was exploding with happiness and it showed on my face. I was greatly rewarded with a blazing downhill that allowed me to get up to 36 miles per hour. The last two miles of my bike ride, I found the song “Help I’m Alive” by Metric stuck in my head. I even started singing it to myself. The crowd of spectators grew as I approached the second transition zone. I started looking for Chris since I was coming in 40 minutes earlier than predicted. When I spotted him, I started yelling his name. He was so surprised that he couldn’t get the camera up in time. The look of happy surprise on his face was priceless and it only fed the fire for my smile.
I looked like the Cheshire Cat as I jogged my bike through the second transition. “Keep that smile going, number 929!” one volunteer shouted. And that’s just what I did through the entire second transition, even when I accidentally got sunscreen in my eyes and yelled, “Aggh, burning!” to no one in particular. I saw Chris taking pictures of me as I started the run. I ran up to him babbling that I was so happy that I’d just had my fastest bike ride; I planted a giant kiss on him and took off running again. I heard another spectator comment, “She’s still smiling.”
I felt like I was floating on clouds as I ran, which was great until I realized at the first mile marker that I was running an 8 to 8.5 minute mile pace. I was running like a dog that had been cooped up in a car all day, and I now needed someone to yank on my leash. So, I forced myself to slow down. By the 4th mile, I was glad I’d slowed down. The heat bouncing back off the blacktop roads was oppressive, ranging in the upper 90′s to lower 100′s. The “rolling hills” were feeling more like mountains — my quadriceps and gluteal muscles were toast. My race strategy changed; instead of thinking of how much of the run I’d completed or had left, I focused on each individual mile, with the aid station marking another one finished. At the 4th aid station, I wised up and got a cup of ice, placing some ice cubes in my sports bra and rationing the rest for sucking on until they’d all melted or I reached the next aid station. I knew that it was very important at this point to keep cool and to avoid dehydrating. Dehydrating in heat like this could mean a post race glucose IV, or even worse, not making it to the finish line.
I fell into a routine of grabbing two cups of water at each aid station — one to drink and one to pour over my head and arms. I kept up with the ice as long as the aid station supplies lasted. At one point in the run, I had dumped so much ice in my sports bra that it jingled with every bounce. This brought the smile back to my face momentarily. Other than the short walk breaks I was taking as I passed the aid stations, I still had managed to run the entire course until mile 10. I looked up to see another ass kicking incline/hill and decided that I would let my body walk just this once. I expected that it would feel like a wonderful break, but I was surprised when I realized that it just felt slow and like I was only adding to the time I had to endure the heat. So after 20 seconds or so, I started running again. By mile marker 11, I had to stretch my quads and gluteals because they felt like they might cramp or just stop working. I repeated this at mile marker 12 as well. The spectators were growing and I knew I was almost there. I felt a strong longing to see Chris. With 800 meters left, I stopped to stretch again. There was no way in hell I was going to walk or seize up in the final straight-away to the finish line!
Around 400 meters, a man yelled at me that it was only 200 meters left. I’ve noticed throughout my races, there is always that one spectator who either drastically lies about how much distance is left or has absolutely no ability to judge the distance. All the same, his heart was in the right place. As I began to near the final turn, I felt my emotions begin to surface. I could hear the crowd cheering. I had frequently imagined how I would finish the face. I had visualized myself shouting, raising my arms to the crowd, and high fiving spectators. But I guess that’s why it is called daydreaming. As I closed in on the finish line, I saw so many people clapping and encouraging anyone and everyone. It began to hit me that I was about to accomplish this goal that I had put so much time into and worked so hard to train for. The closer the finish line came, the more emotional I felt. At long last, I saw Chris and heard him shouting for me. I was on the verge of crying but I pulled out a smile and threw him a thumbs up (my favorite race pose).
The next moment, I was crossing the finish line. I couldn’t hold back any longer; I just let all the tears and the emotion pour out. Some people reading this right now may not understand what the crybaby moment was all about. I know I’m not the only person to cry after a race and others may have their own reason but the following is my explanation: I had accomplished a difficult task that I had set for myself; the race gave me the opportunity to dig deep within myself and showed me that I had the strength and confidence to persevere in a grueling situation.
I am now recovering and feel surprisingly good (likely thanks to the coldest ice bath I’ve ever sat in). I don’t feel the need to do another half Ironman or a full Ironman, contrary to what some people predicted. Once in a while, we must test ourselves to find out what we are capable of.
In Training We Trust…
Posted by: fastfeetpt on: July 14, 2009
I have been training for a half Ironman triathlon known as the Vineman 70.3 since April. This Sunday is when I will be testing myself and the training I have endured for the past 3 and a half months, crossing my fingers that it was enough. Just two weeks ago, I found myself questioning whether I’d done enough.
The last weekend in June, I participated in the San Diego International Triathlon for the second time. The year before, after much anticipation, this race went really well, and I felt invigorated after it was over. This year I didn’t know until 3 weeks before the race whether I was actually going to be able to register for it (I procrastinated and had to wait in line at 6am one morning to be one of 100 last chance entrants). I felt somewhat nonchalant going into the race since my mindset for the past two months had been on half Ironman. When I finished this race, I felt happy and had a great time talking to friends, but this kind of dissipated as I left the race area. I didn’t feel elated. I felt somewhat depressed and had a sense that I hadn’t done as well. The race results released the next day confirmed my dreaded suspicions…2 minutes slower than the previous year.
This may not seem like a lot but it bothered me (did I mention I can be kind of competitive). I had been training solidly, going to bed somewhat early Friday nights, waking up early Saturday and Sunday for long runs and bike rides, and enduring the evil that is ocean swimming for the past 3 months only to get slower. I was luffing (the wind was out of my sails). I pouted for an entire day. My friend Arianna and my boyfriend Chris pointed out that I got slower because I was training for endurance for the half Ironman and not for speed. They brought up how far I could now swim and bike without feeling exhausted. Chris pointed out that I was now able to swim a mile in the ocean; my first ocean swim nearly brought me to a panic attack and probably looked like someone randomly flailing in the water. Arianna pointed out how I can now bike for 60 miles without feeling spent; the first 40 mile bike ride left me cussing out my bike and put me into a glycogen deficit rage, followed by a bonked stupor. Chris told me he was proud of how well I have been able to endure the rigorous training schedule. Arianna told me that I should just be proud that I am capable of finishing a triathlon, which many people can’t do. These were things I already knew but was just too stubborn or too competitive to acknowledge. Over the next couple days, I gradually let go of my sulking and tried to refocus on the Vineman 70.3 again. I was lucky that this was the start of tapering.
I began to recognize that I was showing classic signs of burnout — general fatigue, indifference to workouts, lack of motivation. From experience, I knew that I needed to change things up a bit or I would stroke, pedal, and stride my way right into over-training syndrome. So, I became a slacker. If I missed a workout, I’d make it up on another day or just forget it completely. I cut back the volume of my activities, which is what tapering is supposed to be, so this worked out nicely. I knew I’d really embraced this new type of training (or lack of) when I woke up on July 5th and decided to blow off the last long bike ride I’d planned. It wasn’t that I was hungover from the previous fun of July 4th. I just didn’t really want to do it. Instead, Chris and I played 30 minutes of tennis and I watched part of a triathlon on TV.
Finally, last week began the familiar feeling of having trained for a long endurance event for several months; it is that point at which you move past the “Have I put in enough training” to the “I don’t know if I’m prepared but I’m ready to get it over with.” This is when athletic ADD kicks in for me. So I rode that wave all last week, repeatedly telling people who asked if I was ready, “I’m just ready to be done with it.” Then Sunday threw a new feeling my direction.
Chris and I woke up to go for our Sunday morning long bike ride. We were out the door and on the road by 8am for a ride we hadn’t done in a month or more. The sun was shining, the sky was clear, and traffic was almost non-existent. The first mile of our ride is almost always on this long, gradual hill and it sucks; this Sunday was no exception to that. As we rode along and our legs woke up to making repetitive circles, I started to feel alert…more alive. I started noticing the rolling grassy (or brushy) hills spotted with running trails along either side of the road we cycled down. I smiled at the mountains in the distance that were just warming up with sun hitting their faces. At one point, I looked across the road to notice a small valley that was like an appetizer for the eyes for the mountains in the background. Each new thing I saw seemed to make my smile bigger — I’m sure I looked like a complete jackass with my giant grin coupled with my geeky bike gear. Chris and I both realized how easy the ride was feeling. Our pace was above average, the hills felt like mild bumps, and our legs felt fresh. The icing on the cake was when I was able to ride with no hands safely, without wobbling, for almost 100 yards! Like I was 7 years old, I began shouting, “Look Chris! I’m riding no hands! I’m doing it!”
This bike ride was the affirmation I’d been waiting for. It was proof that my training had paid off. My once challenging bike route felt almost like a recovery ride. But the best part was, I was ecstatic to ride my bike again — it wasn’t just another workout to be completed, it was pure fun and pleasure.
So I am going into my final week of taper. I have an ocean swim, a bike ride or two, a run or two, and a Pilates class left before I put all my training together. I will not be trying to cram in one more run or one more interval on the bike. I’m sure other people have put in more miles or more time or more consistency than me. I didn’t follow a prescribed training program. I made up my own training and flexed it to fit my own personality. So when I complete my first ever (and probably my only) half Ironman on Sunday, I will know that my training was my own and unique to me. I will take great pride in that and I will know that it was enough for me. In the grand scheme of it all, we do these races for ourselves, so we need to respect the time that we have put into our training and trust that it will get us through the finish chute.
Gu, Gels, Blocks, Jelly Beans…Willy Wonka For Athletes
Posted by: fastfeetpt on: July 2, 2009
In the 1980′s, the word “gel” probably would have been thought of as a hair product. Jelly Belly made multi-flavored jelly beans that people, including Ronald Reagan, loved to snack on. Blocks were something that children stacked. And there was no such thing as “Gu”, just Gak (for those Nickelodeon fans). The first energy gels were brought about in 1991 by the company Gu. In 1992, Clif started making their energy bars. That is just the tip of the ice berg for energy, electrolyte, and nutrition supplements. Since those first pioneers, there has been a significant increase in the number of nutrition supplements for endurance athletes. With so many different items to choose from, one could spend endless workouts testing out the products.
I am one of the unfortunate ones that tends to get abdominal cramps after any race that takes about 2 hours to complete. After running the Chicago marathon, I had abdominal cramps for three days afterwards, which included one full day of lying in the fetal position on a couch. I realized that I needed to pay more attention to what I was putting into my body during my races. After doing a little research, I learned part of my problem was dehydration (which should have been a no-brainer). But I wanted to take it a little further. I wanted to try as many different energy replacement, electrolyte replacements, and recovery products as possible . . . a human guinea pig! I wanted to know firsthand what worked the best. I guess this is a true sign that I’m from the Show Me State.
Race expos for running provided the best means for testing multiple products because running expos typically have more vendors and more free samples (sorry triathletes, but this is true). Over the past 8 to 9 months, I acquired as many free products as possible and bought some others that I was curious about. I have even shared these products with my boyfriend to have a secondary opinion. The below are my own personal critiques (confirmed by my boyfriend) of energy gels. There is nothing super scientific about it and there is no secondary gain for me. I just thought I could pass on some information and maybe save some people some money.
Gu Vanilla Bean: A classic for me. I have used this for the past 6 years. There is a little aftertaste but it is less pronounced, goes down easier, and has less intestinal “assault” if swished around in the mouth with water before swallowing it. This one does have caffeine (20mg reported by Gu) which is about 1/3 the amount of an 8 oz. cup of coffee.
Gu Strawberry Banana: Good flavor. No real aftertaste. This one is caffeine free, which I like because caffeine is a diuretic that actually speeds up how fast your body gets rid of fluids. It is thought that caffeine may cause intestinal irritation, leading to abdominal cramps. I have avoided berry flavored gels in the past due to a heartburn sensation but this did not seem to happen with this one.
Gu Lemon Sublime: I have always been the person who does not like lemon lime flavored stuff. This gel was a pleasant surprise for me. No aftertaste, no delayed heartburn feeling, and no caffeine. This has moved to my list of favorites.
Hammer Gel Raspberry: I only tried this one flavor from Hammer Gel so I could be biased but this was my least favorite gel. The consistency was kind of grainy. There was a bit of an icky aftertaste. I definitely felt this gel doing battle with my esophagus and I can assure you, it doesn’t taste very good a second time around. I also noticed less sodium, less calories, and less carbohydrates with this gel. The only plus for me was a lack of caffeine.
Clif Shot Gel Mango: This is one of the gels that is going organic — 90% to be exact. I liked the fact that they used natural ingredients to provide calories, sodium, potassium, and carbohydrates. I think that there is something to be said for being able to recognize the ingredients on a package without a chemistry degree. Once again, no caffeine. With that said, seriously Clif, mango? The flavor was not great and the consistency was kind of chunky (pieces of mango perhaps?). Probably won’t try this again.
Clif Shot Apple Pie: Just like the mango, only apple pie flavored. Again, kind of chunky and apple pie is not necessarily what I crave when I’m working out.
Clif Shot Vanilla: Third time’s a charm. At last Clif did well. The consistency was gel (no chunks thank you), but may have been thinner than Gu. The vanilla flavor went down well with no attacks on my digestive tract. This was even better vanilla flavor than Gu. This is now near the top of my list.
Crank Sports e-Gel Cherry Bomb: This is my most recent gel trial. Crank e-Gel boasts 50 calories more, 80 to 200 mg more sodium, 40 to 50 mg more potassium, and slightly more carbohydrates per packet than the above mentioned. However, it is also a bigger packet (1.9 oz compared to the other gels at 1.1 oz), which could account for a little more anyway. This gel was the thinnest consistency of all. It had no aftertaste. In fact, I felt like I should see the Kool-Aid Man come busting through the fence on the bike path yelling “Oh yeah” as I consumed this. Who doesn’t like cherry Kool-Aid? Another plus for me is that these gels don’t have caffeine. This is another that goes in the top 10.
Crank Sports e-Gel Strawberry Slam: It is just like the Cherry Bomb but “slams” you with its strawberry flavor. I still liked it but felt that it was a little heartburn-ish.
Crank Sports e-Gel Mountain Rush: Apparently if you tried to eat a mountain, it would taste like limes. I am assuming this because Mountain Rush is lime flavored. It is a bit odd because as far as I’m aware of, limes don’t seem to grow in the mountains. Okay, I’ll get off it. Although the name is a little different, this was my favorite flavor of the three I tried. This is in my top 5. And what makes it even better is that I get to say “Man, I’m really craving me some mountain,” before I eat this gel. It’s the little things that count.
Sun-Maid Raisins: Yes, raisins. I know this is not a gel. I read an article about a study performed at San Diego State University in their Department of Exercise and Nutritional Sciences that found no significant difference between use of raisins and energy gels in respect to metabolism and performance. I decided to do a trial of training and racing using raisins. I completed my fastest half marathon using raisins instead of gels. I had slight abdominal cramps an hour after the race but this was nothing compared to the past. A 1.5 oz. box of raisins has 90 calories, 220 mg of potassium, and 22 g of carbohydrates. The downside is that there is only 5 mg of sodium, they take up a little more space (unless you squeeze them together), and you have to chew them. The upside is they are CHEAP! So these are still in my arsenal.
This is just a summary of the gels I have used so far. For personal reasons, I have chosen not to try products that load up on caffeine. On a side note, the research that has been done on caffeine in energy supplements has had mixed results…some say it works, some say it doesn’t. These gels are just a portion of my experiment. Stay tuned for part 2 which covers electrolyte chews, sport beans, protein bars, performance and recovery drinks.
To Dad
Posted by: fastfeetpt on: March 21, 2009
Today is a special day. Today is my birthday. Today is my 30th birthday. Today is also the one year anniversary of my dad’s passing. I still miss him, just as anyone would who has lost a loved one. My dad and I now share this day. Strangely enough, my dad’s father also passed away on my dad’s birthday many years ago. I never thought about this fact much when Dad was around. Since I now share this day with my dad, I thought I would post something I wrote for him in September 2008. I sent this out to those close to me around this past Thanksgiving, but I felt it would be appropriate for me to post this here today.
To Dad
I am writing this because it should have been written over a year and a half ago. In March 2007, I attended a funeral of a 26 year-old woman who had been killed in a helicopter crash. There was a very large showing of people. I listened as her brother, sister, husband, mother, and mother-in-law talked about how extraordinary this young woman was. The thing that I remember most was her older brother. He talked about the last time he saw her. He recalled his last hug that he gave her. Tearfully, he stated that if he had known that it would be the last time, he would have told her how much he loved her, how proud he was of her, and he would have hugged her longer. That funeral and that eulogy made me realize just how unfortunate it is that we always wait until it is too late to tell our loved ones how much they mean to us. I decided that I would write something to everyone that I was close to so that the opportunity wouldn’t pass me by.
I successfully completed the one for my mom. I printed it out on nice paper and found a nice card to mail with it. The timing of it was great. It came in a particularly rough week for my mom. She called me to thank me for the poem I wrote for her. My next intention was to write something for my dad. But when the time came, I hit a block. It wasn’t that my dad wasn’t a good father or a good person. It wasn’t that we were estranged. Truthfully, I was angry and hurt. My dad had rheumatoid arthritis and had recently been diagnosed with congestive heart failure. I am a physical therapist. Each time I would have a conversation with my dad, his health would always come up. He would complain about something, and I would suggest something for treatment, which he would always blow off. This would also bring up the annoying fact that he didn’t have healthcare coverage, which he would always say was too expensive. I would always try to redirect the conversation from there because it would piss me off to no end that he was so unreceptive to my suggestions. Therefore, each time I would sit down to write an ode to dad, I had a hard time initiating it because I felt like he was letting me down and being disrespectful.
Christmas 2007 I went with my brothers to my dad’s house to exchange gifts. The conversation was more painful than usual to get through with him continually joking about his crappy health. I just zoned out of the conversation and let my older brother talk to him. When we left the house, I told my older brother that I was so angry. I felt that it was stupid for my dad to always say he was so proud of me for the hard work it took to get my degree and yet he always ignored my advice. I felt it was insulting.
On March 17, 2008, I had a phone conversation with my dad. Most of my discussions were becoming a work of art in avoiding talk of my dad’s health. However, this time my dad told me he was finally going to get an echocardiogram done because he had convinced his cruddy general medicine doctor to order it. This test was almost nine months overdue. The doctor didn’t think it was necessary and my dad had never pushed to get it done, even though the cardiologist had recommended he have it done three months after Dad’s initial hospitalization, when he was diagnosed with congestive heart failure. I hung up the phone that night feeling like I had finally achieved a small victory. The next day, I received a frantic phone call from my stepmom that my dad was in the emergency room and had suffered a heart attack. In a blur of events, I flew home by that evening, drove a car from St. Louis to my hometown two hours away, and arrived at the hospital by 5 a.m. on March 19. My dad was on life support and was not expected to regain consciousness. My younger brother arrived around 6pm that day. Around 11pm that day, my brothers, my mom, and my stepmom collectively decided to take my dad off life support, not knowing how long it would take before his body would give up. We all waited by his bedside as the support was removed. I don’t want to describe this moment because I think I prefer that my mind just phase it out. All I know is that movies are far from accurate in the depiction of removing life support, and I feel great empathy for anyone who ever has or ever will experience that. Around ten minutes to midnight, my younger brother stated, “Well, Tanya, it seems that Dad is hell bent on making it to your birthday”, which happened to be March 20. As the time passed and our lack of sleep caught up, one by one we each went to sleep in the waiting area or the conference room of the ICU. My older brother was the last one in the room. I told him and Dad that I was just going to catch about an hour of sleep, and then I’d come back. Around 3:15 a.m. on March 20, my birthday and pretty much my time of birth, my dad passed away with all of us asleep, including Jason who had fallen asleep at Dad’s bedside. In retrospect, it was very fitting that my dad would have waited for us all to look away before passing on. He would have wanted to spare us that moment, we agreed.
It has taken me more than six months to write about that. I would purposefully carve out a night alone for myself with the intention of writing about this incident, but couldn’t bring myself to even open the document or a journal. A week and a half ago, I took a new job and quickly realized that it is not where I belong. I have been bothered by this because I made a deal with myself when my dad died that I would never give time to a job that I didn’t want to be at. I feel that I am giving an employer my 40 hours a week out of the total time I am allotted on this earth. Life is too short to waste my time in a job that won’t appreciate me when I’m gone. I’ve been thinking about this a lot lately and about Dad. I also have been thinking about the fact that I never told him how much he meant to me and I never even wrote it to him. I had to talk to my Dad at his bedside in the ICU, with machines attached, hoping that he could hear me. I feel like I never really got to tell him everything I should have. So the following is for my dad.
Dear Dad,
You always made me feel like I was your little girl, even when I was old enough to move away.
You always wanted to protect me, even when I’d learned how to stand up and defend myself.
You always put my well-being first, even when it meant risking your own well-being.
You always supported my decisions, even when they weren’t the most sound.
You always taught me to be honest, even when it created personal difficulty.
You always showed me how to be kind to others, which influenced my career.
You always encouraged me to follow my dreams, even when the dreams were big.
You always answered the phone when I called, even past bedtime.
You always knew when I needed a hug, even if I was too far away to receive it.
You always told me how proud of me you were, even when the accomplishment was small.
Most of all, you loved me, unconditionally, wholly, and perpetually.
I love you, Dad
The Half-Assed Half Marathon
Posted by: fastfeetpt on: February 5, 2009
- In: My Races
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Much like my blog writing went on a hiatus, my working out took a bit of one as well recently. After my last triathlon in November 2008, it was apparent to me that I had brought on a bout of overtraining syndrome. Basically, I was training at high intensities without enough recovery days between them. My legs felt I was running through quicksand on every run. I no longer looked forward to going on a run, unless it was after a stressful morning of work. When I coupled those things with the free time famine that occurs before the holidays, the result was sporadic training. This was not good since I had already signed up for the Carlsbad Half Marathon. I made a feeble attempt at regular running in December, which meant two runs per week. The new year started the same way.
On a Saturday morning two weeks before the race, I dragged myself out of bed, realizing that I needed to get in a 10 mile run. My throat was scratchy and I was not excited. It was a postcard, blue sky, sunshine kind of day. As a former college roommate put it, it was the kind of day to run naked, which actually meant running in a sports bra instead of a shirt. The beautiful weather momentarily fooled me into thinking the run might actually feel good. But two miles into the run, I saw through the lie. At the turnaround point, I stopped to stretch and regroup. I was going into survival mode. The last two miles of the run, I felt like I was lugging around a bag of sand while running through Death Valley. In usual fashion of runs that drain my reserves, I laid in the floor for several minutes after my run. Chris was kind enough to get me some chocolate milk to drink.
As the day wore on, I began to feel worse. I toggled back and forth between feeling chills and sweating. I was sick for a couple days and had a cough that lingered even up until my race day. When I felt ready for working out again, I chose to do stationary biking in place of running for a week. I was doing pilates as well. I got one full week of running before the half marathon. My intentions when I registered for this race were to train hard for a new PR. With my half-assed training and the unfortunate assault on my immune system, I decided that I should focus on enjoying the scenery and hoped that I could finish in 2 hours. I was okay with this and even a little excited since I’d never run a half marathon with the intention of enjoying the scenery. This is what I told myself and the other people that knew I was doing the race.
I woke up at 5:30am, making steel cut oats with honey for breakfast. It was going to be a cloudy day with temperatures from 45 to 55 degrees, which is cold in San Diegan terms (the rest of the country can now laugh). Chris and I got to the race in plenty of time. He walked with me to the entrance of my wave start group, and then we separated. I can’t lie, I was cold in my shorts and technical t-shirt. The national anthem began. Quietly at first, I heard a man singing aloud with the anthem. I looked around to see who it was, finally focusing in on the man in front of me. No one else seemed to notice him. He gradually increased the singing volume, although he thankfully faded out when it came to the high notes. As the anthem finished and everyone clapped, this man waved his hat around, as if he was acknowledging the applause and assuming it was for him. I giggled. This was going to be a great race.
The race started and within the first 400 meters, we were treated to bongo drums and then steel drums. I checked my Garmin GPS watch, which I lovingly named Gigantor, and realized my pace was under 8 minutes. I needed to get control of my pace. I spent the next couple moments trying to calculate the pace I would need for a 2 hour half marathon. Another sign of my poor preparation or maybe a sign of my attempt to stay non-competitive. By the first hill, I was surprised to see someone walking already. At least I’m not that ill prepared, I thought.
Since the wave I was in was the second fastest, there were some quick people. I had to constantly remind myself to keep my pace in check, but I had to admit that I was feeling better than I thought I would. At mile 5, I was aware that I was still feeling good and was keeping a sub-9 minute pace. But I’d done this race before and I knew that previously around mile 10, I had to stop to stretch out a calf cramp. So I made the deal with myself to try to keep my pace around 8:45 to 9 minute pace until mile 9, then I would reevaluate. The spectators made it easy to forget about the strains of the race. At one point, I saw two guys holding a sign up for their friend. The sign said “Push It” and had a picture of someone’s legs spread and underneath the legs was Mr. Hanky the Christmas Poo. I chuckled. At another point, there were three little kids with their hands out, wanting racers to high five them. I couldn’t pass this up.
At mile 7, I began stuffed a handful of raisins in my mouth from the ziplock bag I’d been carrying. I’d read in a Runner’s World magazine about a study that concluded that raisins could give the same benefits as a packet of Gu (or similar products). I had tested this a week earlier without issues, so I decided to try it again. Slowly, I munched on raisins. I jammed another handful and a half into my mouth before I closed up the bag again. I felt like a chipmunk, raisins stashed in my cheeks. I imagined that my cheeks looked puffed out to capacity while I munched on. I smirked at the idea of this and hoped that a spectator somewhere was appreciating just how ridiculous I must look.
Somewhere around mile 9, I realized that I could run 10 minute miles for the rest of the race and I would still be under 2 hours. This really perked me up. I was going to pushing the pace a little but still within my limits. I knew it was a continuous incline and a hill until mile 12. Around this same time, I passed a band that was playing some song that was a real downer, complete with lyrics about slipping into darkness… either someone forgot to tell them that they weren’t playing to their normal emo crowd or it was still too early in the morning for them to notice that they were playing for runners who probably would rather not think of “slipping into darkness” while they are in the middle of a half or full marathon. All the same, their lack of awareness and poor choice of music made me laugh.
Around mile 10, I began humming the Katchafire song “Reggae Revival.” I was a little surprised that this song had popped into my head. Then I started imagining that I was hearing the song. Was I hallucinating? But as I strode closer to an upcoming intersection, I started hearing another Katchafire song, “Get Away” — someone was playing 30 second song bits of a Katchafire album from the sideline. I smiled in anticipation of the song that I knew would be next. I didn’t have to wait long before I heard “Making it easy… Coz I don’t wanna be alone…” float out from the speakers. Happily I sang along, thinking that Chris would love to hear about this one. This is a band that I know only because he introduced me to it. The silliness of the whole thing was great and kept my feet shuffling for a while.
Mile 11 came and I realized I was feeling sore, but I knew there was so little left to run and I was still going at a good pace. I was holding an 8:30 to 8:40 most of the time. By this time I was muttering to myself, coaxing myself to keep going. “Come on legs, you can hold up for 2 more miles.” “Okay, girlie, you didn’t push it this far just to wimp out in the last 2 miles.” “You’re fine… you can rest after the race.” “Quads don’t cramp up yet.” “Last hill coming up.” These were just a few that I remember saying, but they helped me. No one around me seemed to notice, but normally in a race this distance, most people zone out, and hearing people talking to themselves may not be all that unusual, I think.
I crested the last hill. I basically had one more mile to go. My legs had reached the point where they felt so sore and tight that they were almost numb. I couldn’t really feel the muscles contracting anymore — they were stiff and tough like beef jerky. My right gluteal and hip region was hurting, with an occasional searing pain… this is something I’d grown to expect. Then I began to notice that I seemed to have a little less ability to pull the toes of my right foot up each time I picked that leg off the ground. “I have a little bit of foot drop. I’m running with foot drop,” I thought. Again, I thought of Chris, thinking he would find this kind of funny later. And in a weird way, it seemed funny to me too.
I could now hear the spectators cheering and the race commentator on the PA — the finish line was close. I dug deep. I was on pace for a sub 8 minute mile for the last mile of the race. My blisters on my toes were like little bee stings with each step. My hip was now starting to argue with me about whether it wanted to go any further. My thighs were completely numb. Then I passed the steel drums group. It picked up my spirit… I’d been here before. Then the bongos gave real live sound to the beat of my foot falls, leading me to the final turn for the finish line. I rounded the corner, determined. The commentator stated over the PA, “…finishing strong. There’s still plenty of time to finish in under 2 hours. And look at these women. I think the women have shown some real strong performances here today.” It may sound cheesy, but I felt a sense of pride. When I crossed the finish line, I looked at my watch. 1:53:54. I couldn’t believe it! It had to be my second best half marathon time, I figured. I was in disbelief.
Unfortunately, my state of numbness wore off and now my hip was making it difficult to walk. I limped through the race chute to meet up with Chris in the expo. I always forget just how good sitting down feels after a long race — the ground never looked more inviting. I clumsily tried a controlled lowering to the ground, using my arms for most of the support. Eventually, I felt ready to get up again. No matter how sore I am after a race, I always feel that part of my reward for racing hard is getting as much free stuff as I possibly can from the vendors in the post race area (I’m sure this sounds cheap, but I don’t care). And this is just what I did. I loaded up on juices, smoothies, power bars, kettle corn, Sponge Bob fruit snacks, breadsticks; I even walked away with a whole loaf of bread, which might, to this day, be the best free thing I’ve gotten from a post race expo. Loaf of bread in one hand and Chris’s hand in my other hand, I limped back to his car. My half marathon experience was complete.
It was not until the next day that I found out that my official race time was 1:53:44. I also learned that I had ran a PR! When I reflected back on my experience, I knew that this would be a half marathon that I would remember. I wasn’t stressed out prior to or during the race. I actually felt quite lighthearted. I took in the crowd and the scenery while I ran, truly enjoying being where I was and being in the moment. I managed a PR. I had no stomach cramps after the race (a first for post half marathon). And I had fun at the post race expo. What irony! In a race where I had so little expectations, the overall result was magical.
So will I continue my half-assed training, hoping for the same result everytime? Of course not! Only sadistic people that love injuries would try that. But I will remember the frame of mind that I had for that race. Anyone who knows endurance sports, especially running, will know that the mental aspect is just as important as the physical. This might have been my best mental race.
Are You A Guppy or a Shark?
Posted by: fastfeetpt on: October 16, 2008
Recently, I went for an early morning, pre-work bike ride with my friend Arianna. In our usual fashion, we used it as a time to catch up on each others gossip. This particular morning, possibly because Arianna has been lingering in the world of celebrity magazines while doing workouts in the gym, our topic of discussion turned to triathlon celebrity gossip. Jennifer Lopez completed her first triathlon in Malibu in September. Pictures of her smiling while coming out of the water have been everywhere (I would have preferred to see Matthew McConaughey instead, but oh well). Arianna and I talked about the fact that even J-Lo was nervous about the swim. We came to the conclusion that it seems that most people, not all people, seem intimidated and sometimes chased away by the thought of the swim. It could be because some people think they will be slow and will finish last. Some people will talk of the fear of being eaten by a shark. Other people may think they will drown. There is also the knowledge that the start of a triathlon can be a little “bumpy” with people jostling for a position.
It seems silly to say now, but I was one of those people who hid from triathlons for a while because of the swim. At the time, I had a couple reasons for my fear. Number one: the last time I formally swam was when they still referred to your swim class as guppy, tadpole, frog, or shark, so I was very rusty on technique. Number two: I was worried that I would look like I was drowning while trying to learn to swim again, which might mean an embarrassing moment of a lifeguard rescue in a pool. Number three: Tying in again with bad form, I was afraid I would look really dumb to everyone else, especially the lifeguards. Number four: Yes, I did actually think that there could be a possibility of being eaten by a shark, as I would likely be the slower and smaller swimmer, making me look like a baby seal (a very easy target).
I decided to begin swimming when I found out that some of my running friends were swimming once or twice a week. It also didn’t hurt that I had started dating someone who was a triathlete, so I’m sure there was a sense of trying to impress him that also acted as a motivator. Before I even got in the pool, I read a couple of physical therapy research articles on the front crawl technique, so I felt fairly confident and educated. I bought myself a swim cap (a silicone one because I liked the color more than the latex caps) and goggles. I figured I would just use my surfing bikini. My first session took place in a YMCA with my friend Casey, who had competed in the past in swimming. She gave me some brief tips (proper breathing, swim stroke, and coordination of kick & stroke) before taking off to do her couple hundred meter warm up. At the time, this made me think that she was a bad ass. I took out for my “warm up” only to find out that the other end of the pool was the farthest I could go before I needed a break — a whopping 25 meters. I gasped for air while I clung to the edge of the pool, and I looked around to see if anyone noticed my uncoordinated flailing that I called swimming. The lifeguard wasn’t laughing, and in fact, looked like he was spacing out. The other swimmers had their faces in the water. I began to realize that I was being a little egocentric to think that everyone would be noticing my swimming. This was encouraging. It was a good two minutes before I was able to swim another 25 meters. I repeated this until Casey was done. I had completed a total of ten laps. Then it was off to my reward of the hot tub when we finished. The first night after swimming, I was so exhausted that I slept as if I was in a coma.
In the next swim session, Casey and I were joined by Courtney, who also was a former competitive swimmer. Courtney pointed out that I needed to rotate my head more when breathing and just rotate my body in general. Again, this session was a continuation of the lame 25 meter repeats. This continued for a couple more sessions. Finally, our friend Liza joined us. Liza is a former collegiate swimmer. She kindly watched my form, giving me tips on where my hand should enter the water, how I should think of reaching more forward, and how to get my legs, which seemed like anchors, to float better. I added this advice to the previous, thankful that I had friends that were trying to keep me from looking like a cat that has fallen in a toilet. For the first time, I swam a full lap — that’s right, a whole 50 meters — without stopping. It was a lame milestone, but I felt like I’d just won a race.
My endurance slowly improved over the summer of swimming. By the end of the summer, I could swim 100 meters before taking a break and was able to swim 16 laps total. My relationship with the triathlete ended but it actually fueled my desire to swim better. Around October 2007, I began dating a new guy, Chris. He was a former rescue swimmer (yes, I was strategically picking men to date that would further my athletic prowess). The first time I swam with him, I was a little nervous again. However, after taking an adult ballet class years earlier (this will be a future blog entry), I am more comfortable with looking like a beginner. So I showed him my best swimming skills. It was fairly painless. I learned that I had become all too effective at floating my legs to the point that my butt was actually out of the water, making my kick horribly inefficient. Chris was also able to solve the mystery of why I couldn’t swim more than 100 meters without stopping — I was too competitive. He noticed that every time a swimmer in the next lane passed me, I would unknowingly speed up. This high intensity swimming didn’t help my endurance. Chris kindly offered to pace me for a couple laps, pushing me backwards by the head if I tried to pass him. How sweet. But it worked and I was able to swim five laps in a row. After a couple more workouts, I was able to swim 10 laps in a row. Somewhere along the way, I started humming into the water at alternating pitches to create a rhythm for myself. This further helped me with pacing, and I even used it during my first triathlon to control my breathing.
My fear of the swim has mostly dissolved now, except for a little bit of anxiety over ocean swimming (but that is another experience and blog entry of its own). I can easily swim over a mile without dying and I have learned that I actually have a pretty good swim stroke. I no longer feel the need to hum while swimming because I can find my own rhythm without it. I became comfortable enough in the water to help a friend re-enter the water as well, including pacing her. I now enjoy swimming laps in a pool. I find it to be quiet and rhythmic, another way (aside from running) to escape from everything into my own thoughts. I made it to this point without a single drowning incident or hysterical laughing fit from onlookers or lifeguards. Swimming is not something to be feared. It is a return to a childhood activity that I have embraced.
So gather up your water wings and cannonball in!
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- Anonymous: well stated!! i, too, am 11 days post half ironman & this really resonates. thanks for making me feel less insane.
- Ari: Awesome blog Tanya!
- Cyndi: I think you are an amazing writer. But more importantly you are the most amazing cousin. To be able to put into words all the difficult memories you
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