That is a quote from Mae West. Feel free to plagerize it like I did.
Any person who does a reasonable job of working out will reach a threshold of...discomfort. This is not PAIN like omigosh there is a shooting pain up my leg--that means STOP RIGHT NOW YOU IDIOT (my body tends to talk to me in all caps. Especially the words EAT THAT). This is the discomfort level you feel when you push harder, faster, stronger (did I cover the entire Olympic creed here?). I do like the philosophy that says: "pain is just your body getting stronger," but uh-hu--you tell my glutes that on a 6 mile run, okay? Do you think they are listening?
As a species, we humans are designed to avoid pain and discomfort, not embrace it. Back in the day, our ancestors experienced discomfort when they ran fast after a deer, or threw a large something very hard at a bird, but they didn't do that for fun and fitness. That was either dinner, or no dinner. Today, our biggest calorie expenditure in hunting dinner is often punching out the number for the pizza delivery.
Since we have evolved into having easier food availability (most places. I am very aware of hunger still in America and elsewhere), we have lost the caloric expenditure and discomfort of having to chase it down. The math no longer works for us.
Therefore, we are now required to experience discomfort by CHOICE. We elect to pound out the miles, churn the water, hammer the bike pedals, grunt through the crunches. All for the right reasons of course, but sometimes you gotta wonder about evolution. Can you imagine a 15th century barbarian watching one of us flail away on the treadmill and think....they pay good copper for doing that?
Everyone has seen what I have dubbed the Easy Goer. The Easy Goer arrives at the gym, or the track, or the pool, hair and makeup perfectly in place (and that goes for the girls, too). They climb on the recumbant bike (always a big hit for Easy Goers) or the treadmill, and then pedal along at 8 mph or walk at 2.4 mph while paging through a fashion magazine and talking on the cell. After about 15 minutes, they wipe their forward with their matching towel, and go home.
Part of me says, well, at least they are doing SOMETHING. And something is better than nothing, right? And maybe they are also suffering from injury, or illness.
The other part of me--that part that likes to read Stephen King novels-says, oh come on now. Why bother?
Every workout--hard or easy, fast or slow--has a threshold where your body says "it would be nice to stop doing this now." And you have to be able to tell it to shut up, or dial up your iPod to drown it out (good song for that: Ringo Starr's "It Don't Come Easy"). Not every workout is redline hard, certainly, but even an easy workout involves breaking a sweat and a little effort. An ultramarathoner doing a 30minute easy recovery run does not talk on the cell during the exercise. Trust me.
If all you ever do in your workouts is stop when your body gets a little tired, you are not doing yourself any favors. Workouts do range from easy to hard, and easy IS certainly easy, but it's not zero effort.
Last night I suffered throught Survivor: The Bike Ride. It was supposed to be a 90 minute easy ride. Easy does not mean walking the bike up hills, or stopping and pushing when the wind blows 30 mph into your face. It means spin easy, but still get the ride accomplished. Since it was 104 heat index out there last night, with a 30 mph wind, and since I was already tired from a long hard day at work, and since I was also taking antibiotics that made me want to upchuck on my cool new Bontrager water hydration system, there was discomfort on the ride. There was pain. There were times I wanted to quit. But I got the ride done, and actually went a little faster than I thought I was going. I can't say the ride was fun. But you leave bad workouts behind and move on.
So happy discomfort...er, getting stronger.
Thursday, July 15, 2010
Wednesday, July 14, 2010
No Time
When I tell friends that I work out six days a week--between 45 minutes and an hour and a half on weekdays, and between two and three hours each weekend day--some of them are simply shocked. Shocked, I tell you! They shake their heads and say that I must be some kind of ...(fill in the blank....superstar, idiot, alien).
Yet...if I said to everyone that I watched TV or surfed the 'net between 45 and 90 minutes per day....I'll bet no one would even blink. In fact, that is way below the national average of FOUR HOURS a day of TV watchin' for us Amurikans.
I probably spend about an hour each day on the 'net (non-work related), and maybe an hour every week watching TV (that increases during football season, I will admit). I don't really like TV all that much, and I'm not too much of a 'net surfer, unless it's cruising www.active.com community chat sites or looking for stuff to buy to feed my triathlon habit. I actually have a Facebook page, which I diligently check about once a month after I get enough reminders that someone REALLY WANTS to be my friend, and now and again I will check www.slate.com for some good liberal stories to make my Republican blood tingle.
Other than that, TV and the 'net kinda don't hold my interest for long. I have a busy career that takes me from 40-55 hours a week, a family (that does include a VERY Patient Spouse), other hobbies (I like to train my dogs in agility and field, I like to go dancing, I like the movies, I like to travel) and I love, love, LOVE to read. Books. Real ones with paper that you can hold in the swimming pool without worry of them getting wet and sparking out on you (okay, I really don't mind Kindles. I don't have one yet. I probably will some day).
So...although I have a very busy schedule in my life (my mom warned the Patient Spouse when we got engaged to "not to try and keep up with her." He doesn't), I find plenty of time to work out and still have time to do the laundry, cook some meals, make the grocery runs, walk the dogs, have brunch with friends, and even change the oil.
I am always amazed at the amount of time other people spend on the computer (they keep sending me, or asking me for, things like goats and cows on Facebook and I always feel terrible that I don't traffic in internet animals) or watching stuff on TV that really isn't even that interesting to them (I am not telling on the Patient Spouse, because guys really do need some zone time, and most zone time for guys is spent watching reruns of Seinfield). I don't expect everyone to be like me, but if you want to find the time to work out, something's gotta go, at least a little bit. Unless you are a second year law associate in a Wall Street firm with five kids under the age of 7 who all go to different schools, you really CAN find the time to work out. "I don't have the time" is not good enough for an excuse. We all get the same 24 hours.
I'll bet that most athletes who are training for long distance races (Ironmans (TM), 70.3s, marathons, etc.) AND who have full time jobs have their TVs and home computers gathering cobwebs too. Not that there is anything wrong with TV (I adore House, and I love HGTV-- when I do watch, it's usually sports or HGTV) or the computer (no computer? Hello...no blog. Bad idea). We just have other things to do with a lot of our time.
If the average American gave up three hours of TV a week--that's not a huge amount--think of what he or she could do with that time. Take a walk, bake a cake, visit a friend, run 10 miles....!
Last night I left work about 5:45 p.m. I got to the gym at 6:45 (yes, I also have a terrible commute to take up even more of my time). I warmed up and ran 45 minutes from 7 to 7:45, cooled down and stretched, and then did a grocery store run. I sat down to dinner (grilled a steak and some zuchinni, and cut up some watermelon) at 9, and was ready for the sack by 10:15 after running a load of wash. Fortunately, I have a Patient Spouse and kids who are older; if that were different, I would have done the run at 5:30 in the morning instead (tomorrow morning's swim will be at that time because I have dog agility class tomorrow night). It was a good, steady, slow paced run --kept my heart rate low and didn't ever stop--and I cheated and went indoors since the heat index at 6:45 p.m. was 101 degrees (a heat index over 100 is my personal limit for running outside).
Tonight's a bike ride for 90 minutes post work in the blast furnace. Followed by a Costco trip. You spend all this money on your bike stuff, you gotta save on the groceries somewhere! I heart Costco. Perhaps I can give Costco away on Facebook?
Terry
Yet...if I said to everyone that I watched TV or surfed the 'net between 45 and 90 minutes per day....I'll bet no one would even blink. In fact, that is way below the national average of FOUR HOURS a day of TV watchin' for us Amurikans.
I probably spend about an hour each day on the 'net (non-work related), and maybe an hour every week watching TV (that increases during football season, I will admit). I don't really like TV all that much, and I'm not too much of a 'net surfer, unless it's cruising www.active.com community chat sites or looking for stuff to buy to feed my triathlon habit. I actually have a Facebook page, which I diligently check about once a month after I get enough reminders that someone REALLY WANTS to be my friend, and now and again I will check www.slate.com for some good liberal stories to make my Republican blood tingle.
Other than that, TV and the 'net kinda don't hold my interest for long. I have a busy career that takes me from 40-55 hours a week, a family (that does include a VERY Patient Spouse), other hobbies (I like to train my dogs in agility and field, I like to go dancing, I like the movies, I like to travel) and I love, love, LOVE to read. Books. Real ones with paper that you can hold in the swimming pool without worry of them getting wet and sparking out on you (okay, I really don't mind Kindles. I don't have one yet. I probably will some day).
So...although I have a very busy schedule in my life (my mom warned the Patient Spouse when we got engaged to "not to try and keep up with her." He doesn't), I find plenty of time to work out and still have time to do the laundry, cook some meals, make the grocery runs, walk the dogs, have brunch with friends, and even change the oil.
I am always amazed at the amount of time other people spend on the computer (they keep sending me, or asking me for, things like goats and cows on Facebook and I always feel terrible that I don't traffic in internet animals) or watching stuff on TV that really isn't even that interesting to them (I am not telling on the Patient Spouse, because guys really do need some zone time, and most zone time for guys is spent watching reruns of Seinfield). I don't expect everyone to be like me, but if you want to find the time to work out, something's gotta go, at least a little bit. Unless you are a second year law associate in a Wall Street firm with five kids under the age of 7 who all go to different schools, you really CAN find the time to work out. "I don't have the time" is not good enough for an excuse. We all get the same 24 hours.
I'll bet that most athletes who are training for long distance races (Ironmans (TM), 70.3s, marathons, etc.) AND who have full time jobs have their TVs and home computers gathering cobwebs too. Not that there is anything wrong with TV (I adore House, and I love HGTV-- when I do watch, it's usually sports or HGTV) or the computer (no computer? Hello...no blog. Bad idea). We just have other things to do with a lot of our time.
If the average American gave up three hours of TV a week--that's not a huge amount--think of what he or she could do with that time. Take a walk, bake a cake, visit a friend, run 10 miles....!
Last night I left work about 5:45 p.m. I got to the gym at 6:45 (yes, I also have a terrible commute to take up even more of my time). I warmed up and ran 45 minutes from 7 to 7:45, cooled down and stretched, and then did a grocery store run. I sat down to dinner (grilled a steak and some zuchinni, and cut up some watermelon) at 9, and was ready for the sack by 10:15 after running a load of wash. Fortunately, I have a Patient Spouse and kids who are older; if that were different, I would have done the run at 5:30 in the morning instead (tomorrow morning's swim will be at that time because I have dog agility class tomorrow night). It was a good, steady, slow paced run --kept my heart rate low and didn't ever stop--and I cheated and went indoors since the heat index at 6:45 p.m. was 101 degrees (a heat index over 100 is my personal limit for running outside).
Tonight's a bike ride for 90 minutes post work in the blast furnace. Followed by a Costco trip. You spend all this money on your bike stuff, you gotta save on the groceries somewhere! I heart Costco. Perhaps I can give Costco away on Facebook?
Terry
Tuesday, July 13, 2010
Enter a Race!
I love to tell people what to do. This is why I became a lawyer. It's one of the few professions you can enter (besides medicine, which means you have to take the "math" path in college, rather than the "no math" path) where you can mouth off all day long, and get paid for it (sometimes).
Motivation in working out is a strange animal. It comes and goes, and sometimes when it goes, it goes so far away you can't see it with binoculars. Losing weight and staying healthy are great motivators. However, sometimes when the 5 a.m. alarm for your morning run does battle with the warmth of the down pillow, the down pillow takes no prisoners.
Nothing--and I mean NOTHING--motivates you as much as entering a race or event. Be it a 5K or a full Ironman (TM) triathlon, as that date looms closer on your calendar, you will find an amazing way to spring out of bed with that alarm and get your running shoes on. Therefore, I mandate that everyone who wants to keep motivated must enter a race or event. Today. I mean, not tomorrow. So what if you can only run a quarter mile of a 5K. Go enter one, and plan to train to run a half of a mile for it before race day.
Here's how you enter a race or event:
1. Find an event. It's easy to find races (from 5Ks to ultramarathons) in the World of Al Gore's Internet. Www.active.com has a list of all kinds of events. In addition, if you will just go to Google and type in your state and the word "sprint triathlon" or "5K"--for example, those of you in Iowa (a shout out to my inlaws in Rockwell City IA) can type in "10Ks in Cedar Rapids IA" and lo and behold you will get a long list of events to come up.
I like to enter an event early enough to give me time to prepare, but not so far away that I feel I can slack for awhile. This can be difficult if you are choosing to run a marathon or a long distance triathlon, because you will probably need some long preparation, but you can enter smaller, shorter events in the interim. For example, I'm going to do my 70.3 triathlon in April-May 2011, but that is too far away to even get sweaty palms about yet. So I'm signed up to do a sprint triathlon on Labor Day, and also plan to do a half marathon in December. Since the sprint is only six weeks away, I'm starting to motivate already for that one. I'm eager to improve my times from last year in all four areas (including transitions).
Enter early enough as well to miss any numerical cutoffs. Many triathlons and marathons have a number limit. Some popular ones fill up within hours of opening.
Some events require that you qualify at a another event before you can enter--like the Chicago Marathon or Ironman (TM) Kona. But you weren't entering those anyway, right?
2. Research the event. Look at reviews on the previous races. Check out the race site and course maps (if they are up; sometimes course maps don't get published early enough for me). Is it hilly on the bike or run? Is the swim in a lake, river, ocean, or pool? How many aid stations and what do they offer? Do the reviews say the race is disorganized, or too hard, or too crowded? What's the weather like that time of year--hot, cold, rainy? Will the water be wetsuit legal? Do they have great post race snacks? (Hey--always important). Decide what type of race is best for you at this time of your life, and enter it. PS don't always just enter the "easier" races, except for your first ones. Push your goals a bit at a time harder and longer each time. Perhaps you will start out with a sprint tri with a pool swim, or a run-walk 5K for a good cause, and then move up to a longer sprint distance with an open water swim, or a 5K with more hills, and so on.
Right now, I am having difficulty deciding on my 70.3 race in 2011. I'd love to do the 70.3 Hermann Memorial in Galveston. I was born in Galveston and salt water still flows in my veins. The course is flat (nb: the only hill in Galveston is a bump near the seawall that housed an old Civil War bunker, and that was affectionately known in the 60's as "Boss A Go Go"--what a 60's name!--and that as a youngster, was considered Mount Everest in our minds and for our bikes. Recently, I visited Galveston and was amazed at how much the hill--now a site of a four star hotel--had shrunk in 45 years). The temperature is usually moderate. The race organization is awesome (it's a very big race), the T shirts are cool, the area is lovely. However, there are some downsides: the water IS salt (which helps in bouyancy, but when you are considering partially consuming 1.2 miles worth of it, is not so good to the gastric system during the 13.1 mile run), the wind is usually simply brutal, the humidity can be nasty, and it's a very, very crowded and popular race. I entered it last year in the Olympic division and they ended up canceling the swim due to thunderstorms and high winds (it's always a bad sign when all your marker bouys blow away). I ended up bagging the race and doing a Denton area Olympic tri four weeks later--more hills, less wind, no salt water, and no cancelation. But very hilly and very hot. Still, I'm debating--salt water versus fresh, lots of wind versus lots of hills, humid but temperate versus hot. Someday soon I have to make up my mind.
3. Enter the event. You can enter nearly every event on line from your chair. If you are entering a triathlon, you will need to be a USAT member or buy a one day USAT membership before you enter. For most running races, you'll just need a credit card and your T shirt size. Enter it. Do it. Life's short and it gets shorter every day.
For most pool swim triathlons, you will be seeded by your estimated swim time. Be honest. Don't lie. It's annoying to be waiting in line to get in the pool and see people in front of you doing the mega-slow sidestroke who should have been at the end of the line. Plus, you will get run over if you overseed your time. Maybe by me. Definitely by the Patient Spouse, who tends to blow it all out on the swim, and then spend the bike and run portions cussing at himself for doing just that.
4. Tell everyone you entered the event. This is a crucial step. You must publicize your entry to the world. So if you even entertain the mere thought of not going through with it, you will have some 'splaining to do. Great motivator.
5. Get ready for the event. Obviously, you will need to train for your event. Your training should be based on whether you entered this for fun (which I recommend you do for any first time event) or for a bit of a challenge that is still fun. Even if it's just for fun, you need to be in some kind of reasonable condition to do the event. Even walking a 5K requires some motor power from your feet and lungs. Get out there and get ready. Then, before the event, do a taper. Depending on the size and nature of your event, this can be a 10 day to 1 day ease off in reduction and volume of training to get your body prepared for its max efforts on race day (this is not a cessation of training--far from it--but a reduction. If you just quit training you will be flat on race day).
Plan your hydration and nutrition for the event (will they have goodies and water for you? I found out--Terry's Hard Way again-- in one half marathon that they offered nothing to eat, only sports drink, and my system needs a carb boost after 10 miles of running).
Check your gear and make sure it's ready. Don't try or wear anything new on race day or even the week before. Clean your bike, check your goggles, check your shoes and sunglasses. Charge your iPod (music players not permitted by the way in triathlons, but permitted in many types of foot races).
6. Do the event. This should be the easiest part! Find out from the website about packet pickup (many races do NOT permit same day packet pickup. EVERY triathlon requires you to pick your packet up in person--no sending the spouse for it), parking, what time to arrive. For your first events, get there earlier than you think you should. You may end up having 45 minutes to wander around and feel nervous, but it's way better than dashing in with five minutes to set up transition, use the portalet, and find the start line, only to realize you forgot your goggles back in the car.
During the event, just relax and enjoy the day. Unless you are an elite, this is what you are doing for fun and fitness. Push yourself--if any time requires it, this is the time, leave nothing on the course, use it all up--but don't kill yourself. Finish with a smile on your face and arms thrust high for the camera. Whether you come in first or last, it doesn't matter to anyone--you finished. You are a triathlete or a runner.
7. Brag about doing the event. Oh, gosh, buy a finish line photo, wear your medal, wear that T shirt until it falls apart. Tell everyone about it, post it on Facebook, start a blog, host a dinner. Go out to lunch afterwards at your favorite place to celebrate (eat sensible. No sense in blowing your good workout immediately).
8. Repeat 1-7 above as often as necessary.
Having said all that, I had a pool workout last night where I simply could NOT get motivated to push harder than a slow slog. Consequently, my main set of 4 x 400's was slower than I wanted. If I want to improve my swim time on the Labor Day sprint tri, I have to get myself in a bit higher gear. I did my 2300 yard workout, but it wasn't my fastest or crispest. Then again, I know to leave a bad workout behind me and move forward. A 45 minute run tonight--indoors on the track to ease my hamstring back into gear after hiking the Tetons. Hopefully I will be more charged tonight than last night.
Go enter a race. Today.
Motivation in working out is a strange animal. It comes and goes, and sometimes when it goes, it goes so far away you can't see it with binoculars. Losing weight and staying healthy are great motivators. However, sometimes when the 5 a.m. alarm for your morning run does battle with the warmth of the down pillow, the down pillow takes no prisoners.
Nothing--and I mean NOTHING--motivates you as much as entering a race or event. Be it a 5K or a full Ironman (TM) triathlon, as that date looms closer on your calendar, you will find an amazing way to spring out of bed with that alarm and get your running shoes on. Therefore, I mandate that everyone who wants to keep motivated must enter a race or event. Today. I mean, not tomorrow. So what if you can only run a quarter mile of a 5K. Go enter one, and plan to train to run a half of a mile for it before race day.
Here's how you enter a race or event:
1. Find an event. It's easy to find races (from 5Ks to ultramarathons) in the World of Al Gore's Internet. Www.active.com has a list of all kinds of events. In addition, if you will just go to Google and type in your state and the word "sprint triathlon" or "5K"--for example, those of you in Iowa (a shout out to my inlaws in Rockwell City IA) can type in "10Ks in Cedar Rapids IA" and lo and behold you will get a long list of events to come up.
I like to enter an event early enough to give me time to prepare, but not so far away that I feel I can slack for awhile. This can be difficult if you are choosing to run a marathon or a long distance triathlon, because you will probably need some long preparation, but you can enter smaller, shorter events in the interim. For example, I'm going to do my 70.3 triathlon in April-May 2011, but that is too far away to even get sweaty palms about yet. So I'm signed up to do a sprint triathlon on Labor Day, and also plan to do a half marathon in December. Since the sprint is only six weeks away, I'm starting to motivate already for that one. I'm eager to improve my times from last year in all four areas (including transitions).
Enter early enough as well to miss any numerical cutoffs. Many triathlons and marathons have a number limit. Some popular ones fill up within hours of opening.
Some events require that you qualify at a another event before you can enter--like the Chicago Marathon or Ironman (TM) Kona. But you weren't entering those anyway, right?
2. Research the event. Look at reviews on the previous races. Check out the race site and course maps (if they are up; sometimes course maps don't get published early enough for me). Is it hilly on the bike or run? Is the swim in a lake, river, ocean, or pool? How many aid stations and what do they offer? Do the reviews say the race is disorganized, or too hard, or too crowded? What's the weather like that time of year--hot, cold, rainy? Will the water be wetsuit legal? Do they have great post race snacks? (Hey--always important). Decide what type of race is best for you at this time of your life, and enter it. PS don't always just enter the "easier" races, except for your first ones. Push your goals a bit at a time harder and longer each time. Perhaps you will start out with a sprint tri with a pool swim, or a run-walk 5K for a good cause, and then move up to a longer sprint distance with an open water swim, or a 5K with more hills, and so on.
Right now, I am having difficulty deciding on my 70.3 race in 2011. I'd love to do the 70.3 Hermann Memorial in Galveston. I was born in Galveston and salt water still flows in my veins. The course is flat (nb: the only hill in Galveston is a bump near the seawall that housed an old Civil War bunker, and that was affectionately known in the 60's as "Boss A Go Go"--what a 60's name!--and that as a youngster, was considered Mount Everest in our minds and for our bikes. Recently, I visited Galveston and was amazed at how much the hill--now a site of a four star hotel--had shrunk in 45 years). The temperature is usually moderate. The race organization is awesome (it's a very big race), the T shirts are cool, the area is lovely. However, there are some downsides: the water IS salt (which helps in bouyancy, but when you are considering partially consuming 1.2 miles worth of it, is not so good to the gastric system during the 13.1 mile run), the wind is usually simply brutal, the humidity can be nasty, and it's a very, very crowded and popular race. I entered it last year in the Olympic division and they ended up canceling the swim due to thunderstorms and high winds (it's always a bad sign when all your marker bouys blow away). I ended up bagging the race and doing a Denton area Olympic tri four weeks later--more hills, less wind, no salt water, and no cancelation. But very hilly and very hot. Still, I'm debating--salt water versus fresh, lots of wind versus lots of hills, humid but temperate versus hot. Someday soon I have to make up my mind.
3. Enter the event. You can enter nearly every event on line from your chair. If you are entering a triathlon, you will need to be a USAT member or buy a one day USAT membership before you enter. For most running races, you'll just need a credit card and your T shirt size. Enter it. Do it. Life's short and it gets shorter every day.
For most pool swim triathlons, you will be seeded by your estimated swim time. Be honest. Don't lie. It's annoying to be waiting in line to get in the pool and see people in front of you doing the mega-slow sidestroke who should have been at the end of the line. Plus, you will get run over if you overseed your time. Maybe by me. Definitely by the Patient Spouse, who tends to blow it all out on the swim, and then spend the bike and run portions cussing at himself for doing just that.
4. Tell everyone you entered the event. This is a crucial step. You must publicize your entry to the world. So if you even entertain the mere thought of not going through with it, you will have some 'splaining to do. Great motivator.
5. Get ready for the event. Obviously, you will need to train for your event. Your training should be based on whether you entered this for fun (which I recommend you do for any first time event) or for a bit of a challenge that is still fun. Even if it's just for fun, you need to be in some kind of reasonable condition to do the event. Even walking a 5K requires some motor power from your feet and lungs. Get out there and get ready. Then, before the event, do a taper. Depending on the size and nature of your event, this can be a 10 day to 1 day ease off in reduction and volume of training to get your body prepared for its max efforts on race day (this is not a cessation of training--far from it--but a reduction. If you just quit training you will be flat on race day).
Plan your hydration and nutrition for the event (will they have goodies and water for you? I found out--Terry's Hard Way again-- in one half marathon that they offered nothing to eat, only sports drink, and my system needs a carb boost after 10 miles of running).
Check your gear and make sure it's ready. Don't try or wear anything new on race day or even the week before. Clean your bike, check your goggles, check your shoes and sunglasses. Charge your iPod (music players not permitted by the way in triathlons, but permitted in many types of foot races).
6. Do the event. This should be the easiest part! Find out from the website about packet pickup (many races do NOT permit same day packet pickup. EVERY triathlon requires you to pick your packet up in person--no sending the spouse for it), parking, what time to arrive. For your first events, get there earlier than you think you should. You may end up having 45 minutes to wander around and feel nervous, but it's way better than dashing in with five minutes to set up transition, use the portalet, and find the start line, only to realize you forgot your goggles back in the car.
During the event, just relax and enjoy the day. Unless you are an elite, this is what you are doing for fun and fitness. Push yourself--if any time requires it, this is the time, leave nothing on the course, use it all up--but don't kill yourself. Finish with a smile on your face and arms thrust high for the camera. Whether you come in first or last, it doesn't matter to anyone--you finished. You are a triathlete or a runner.
7. Brag about doing the event. Oh, gosh, buy a finish line photo, wear your medal, wear that T shirt until it falls apart. Tell everyone about it, post it on Facebook, start a blog, host a dinner. Go out to lunch afterwards at your favorite place to celebrate (eat sensible. No sense in blowing your good workout immediately).
8. Repeat 1-7 above as often as necessary.
Having said all that, I had a pool workout last night where I simply could NOT get motivated to push harder than a slow slog. Consequently, my main set of 4 x 400's was slower than I wanted. If I want to improve my swim time on the Labor Day sprint tri, I have to get myself in a bit higher gear. I did my 2300 yard workout, but it wasn't my fastest or crispest. Then again, I know to leave a bad workout behind me and move forward. A 45 minute run tonight--indoors on the track to ease my hamstring back into gear after hiking the Tetons. Hopefully I will be more charged tonight than last night.
Go enter a race. Today.
Monday, July 12, 2010
The Out of Towners
Great movie. Twitter version: Jack Lemmon sleeping in Central Park fighting a dog over discarded Crackerjacks. You have to be over 50 to even know about this movie.
Anyway. Working out while on vacation, or traveling for any reason, has its upsides and downsides. For example, this was me on Friday (my 53rd birthday), in Jackson Hole, Wyoming, doing a 2.65 mile run:
Me (being passed by a very fit runner lady, who I later found out was 77 years old): "Where--wheeze--do you---wheeze--guys keep--gasp--the oxygen--wheeze--in this--gasp--state?"
Very Fit Old Lady: "mzzzzzpppp" (as she whizzed by me).
Working out at higher altitudes has its joys: it was cool and I was running in the shadow of the Tetons. It also has the pain of having no air to spare, since I wasn't up there long enough to acclimate. But I tried hard and managed a 2.65 mile run in 30 minutes, at which time I headed for the birthday cake and oxygen tank.
In the last 4 years, I've always worked out on vacation or business/personal travel trips. Back when I was just a runner, this was sorta easy. You packed your running shoes, your Garmin (you gotta know your distance in a strange location), and some running clothes, and then you just ran. I have run on the deck of a cruise ship (interesting feeling), in Alaska, on the beach path in Hawaii, down a trail in BC Canada, on rainy streets in San Antonio and even down the strip in Las Vegas. Have Nike Air Zooms, will travel. Worst case scenario is that you find a treadmill in your hotel gym and pound it out for awhile.
However, it's harder to work on the bikey-swimmy stuff away from home. You can do the gym bike if you are at a hotel that has a gym (I'd rather give myself a Tabasco enema--because that is what a gym bike feels like to me--but it's better than not working out at all), or you can borrow a bike (usually too big), rent a bike (we did that in Alaska), or even bring your bike or ship it in advance (a lot of PIA and some cost). To swim, you gotta have a pool or an accomodating lake (hint: not in Wyoming, or Alaska) or calm ocean (hint: great place for socean wimming is the Carribean in St. Marteen). But you can at least run, and maybe swim, and maybe do a little biking. If you are serious about working out, you go out and do your workout in the morning and fall into the beach chair with the mai tai later on in the day.
In addition, a lot of vacations offer other things to do that won't hurt your workout routine. Kayaking (we did this in Alaska--great upper body stuff), hiking, horseback riding, skating, skiing, snowshoeing--get out there and do stuff. Every day if you can handle it, maybe leave one day to collapse by the pool. BE ACTIVE.
We spent 3 full days in Jackson Hole WY visiting my sister last week. We arrived late Wed night. On Thursday, we did an 8 hour fly fishing trip which was awesome (good upper body workout!). On Friday, I did my wheeze run in the morning and that afternoon we took a short 4.5 mile hike. On Saturday, we did a six hour 10 mile hike that was pretty strenuous. My right calf muscle is telling me about it right now. I took yesterday off, and today I'm back in the thick hot air of Texas, and going swimming tonight. It was beautiful up there, and being outside was just wonderful. I am so lucky to be able to move around, hike, walk, run, fish--and part of my working out is to keep it that way. My 63 year old sister hiked circles around me, by the way.
Oh! And for my birthday I got some new bike gadgets:
1. A bento box for the front tube of the bike. This small velcro box sits on the front tube and holds gels, candies, cookies, bars--whatever you will need to get to without getting down off the bike, or even reaching back into your pocket (when I do that, I drop things).
2. A new Cat Eye wireless bike computer with a cadence monitor. This little baby tracks your rpms, or pedal strokes. An important aspect of biking is to keep your cadence fast, rather than pumping hard and slow on the pedals. A monitor helps show you when your cadence drops so you can either pick up the pace or gear to an easier gear. Yes, I know, sometimes there ISN'T an easier gear. I try to gear down to an non existant gear all the time, okay?
3. A Bontager water hydration system for between my aerobars up front. This means I won't have to lean down to grab my water bottle and then drop it or spill it or lose control while trying to put it back. I can simply grab the straw with my teeh and take a drink while pedaling along. My only worry is something my mother would have said: "can you put your eye out on that straw?" Probably not; it's pretty flexible and I AM wearing sunglasses. I'll bet a guy wouldn't worry about that.
I also got a gift certificate to a sports store where I intend to load up on some Ironman socks. Those are the best socks I can find--thin, breathable, and easy to put on wet feet post swim. I wish they made them in more colors than they do, but I guess this is one where function beats form any day.
Triathletes are sooooo easy to shop for!
Happy vacationing--go out and be active wherever you go!
Anyway. Working out while on vacation, or traveling for any reason, has its upsides and downsides. For example, this was me on Friday (my 53rd birthday), in Jackson Hole, Wyoming, doing a 2.65 mile run:
Me (being passed by a very fit runner lady, who I later found out was 77 years old): "Where--wheeze--do you---wheeze--guys keep--gasp--the oxygen--wheeze--in this--gasp--state?"
Very Fit Old Lady: "mzzzzzpppp" (as she whizzed by me).
Working out at higher altitudes has its joys: it was cool and I was running in the shadow of the Tetons. It also has the pain of having no air to spare, since I wasn't up there long enough to acclimate. But I tried hard and managed a 2.65 mile run in 30 minutes, at which time I headed for the birthday cake and oxygen tank.
In the last 4 years, I've always worked out on vacation or business/personal travel trips. Back when I was just a runner, this was sorta easy. You packed your running shoes, your Garmin (you gotta know your distance in a strange location), and some running clothes, and then you just ran. I have run on the deck of a cruise ship (interesting feeling), in Alaska, on the beach path in Hawaii, down a trail in BC Canada, on rainy streets in San Antonio and even down the strip in Las Vegas. Have Nike Air Zooms, will travel. Worst case scenario is that you find a treadmill in your hotel gym and pound it out for awhile.
However, it's harder to work on the bikey-swimmy stuff away from home. You can do the gym bike if you are at a hotel that has a gym (I'd rather give myself a Tabasco enema--because that is what a gym bike feels like to me--but it's better than not working out at all), or you can borrow a bike (usually too big), rent a bike (we did that in Alaska), or even bring your bike or ship it in advance (a lot of PIA and some cost). To swim, you gotta have a pool or an accomodating lake (hint: not in Wyoming, or Alaska) or calm ocean (hint: great place for socean wimming is the Carribean in St. Marteen). But you can at least run, and maybe swim, and maybe do a little biking. If you are serious about working out, you go out and do your workout in the morning and fall into the beach chair with the mai tai later on in the day.
In addition, a lot of vacations offer other things to do that won't hurt your workout routine. Kayaking (we did this in Alaska--great upper body stuff), hiking, horseback riding, skating, skiing, snowshoeing--get out there and do stuff. Every day if you can handle it, maybe leave one day to collapse by the pool. BE ACTIVE.
We spent 3 full days in Jackson Hole WY visiting my sister last week. We arrived late Wed night. On Thursday, we did an 8 hour fly fishing trip which was awesome (good upper body workout!). On Friday, I did my wheeze run in the morning and that afternoon we took a short 4.5 mile hike. On Saturday, we did a six hour 10 mile hike that was pretty strenuous. My right calf muscle is telling me about it right now. I took yesterday off, and today I'm back in the thick hot air of Texas, and going swimming tonight. It was beautiful up there, and being outside was just wonderful. I am so lucky to be able to move around, hike, walk, run, fish--and part of my working out is to keep it that way. My 63 year old sister hiked circles around me, by the way.
Oh! And for my birthday I got some new bike gadgets:
1. A bento box for the front tube of the bike. This small velcro box sits on the front tube and holds gels, candies, cookies, bars--whatever you will need to get to without getting down off the bike, or even reaching back into your pocket (when I do that, I drop things).
2. A new Cat Eye wireless bike computer with a cadence monitor. This little baby tracks your rpms, or pedal strokes. An important aspect of biking is to keep your cadence fast, rather than pumping hard and slow on the pedals. A monitor helps show you when your cadence drops so you can either pick up the pace or gear to an easier gear. Yes, I know, sometimes there ISN'T an easier gear. I try to gear down to an non existant gear all the time, okay?
3. A Bontager water hydration system for between my aerobars up front. This means I won't have to lean down to grab my water bottle and then drop it or spill it or lose control while trying to put it back. I can simply grab the straw with my teeh and take a drink while pedaling along. My only worry is something my mother would have said: "can you put your eye out on that straw?" Probably not; it's pretty flexible and I AM wearing sunglasses. I'll bet a guy wouldn't worry about that.
I also got a gift certificate to a sports store where I intend to load up on some Ironman socks. Those are the best socks I can find--thin, breathable, and easy to put on wet feet post swim. I wish they made them in more colors than they do, but I guess this is one where function beats form any day.
Triathletes are sooooo easy to shop for!
Happy vacationing--go out and be active wherever you go!
Tuesday, July 6, 2010
After the fall
Everyone is gonna fall down sooner or later (hopefully, not on TV where you have to shout that you can't get up). You started out as a toddler going crash and boom and now that you have graduated to adult toys, you are simply going to have to accept the fact that one day, you will meet asphalt/concrete/dirt/rocks in an unpleasant manner. Just looky at the Tour d' France guys. A primo ad for bandaids.
Most falls happen on a bike. Some will happen on a run--yes, I've fallen nicely while running. I guess you could fall when swimming but I'm trying to picture how. Maybe on your way to the pool or while getting out (as we get older, those nice ladders look way more interesting than the hoist up on the side from the hips action. What's really funny--or not--is when you try that move and fail. Like I have. Several times. In a row).
THE RUN
My big running crash was about 3 years ago. I was in training for my first half marathon and had a 7 mile run scheduled that day. It was not starting out to be a good day for running; it was a warm day in late February (this is Texas. We can get 90 degree days in February, okay? Just remember that we also get 110 degree days in July and you can feel better about all of that). I had obligations that morning so the run was in the afternoon; not my favorite time of day to run and especially not when it's warm. I was already tired as well, but the show must go on. I strapped on my Garmin and my running shoes and headed out the door.
I had already decided to take a little bit different route for my run than before. I lived (back then) out in the boonies and there was a little dirt/rock road that branched off of my main running road that looked quite intriguing. I had walked a bit of that road the other day and the dirt looked firm and dry and inviting to someone who is always searching for a way to avoid asphalt pounding.
So off I went to Adventureland, trotting down this new road under these huge trees and enjoying myself immensely, or as much as you can enjoy yourself while running tired in the heat of the day. For about a mile this semi euphoria lasted. Then the road started deteriorating on me, and rapidly. First there were the huge ruts from the latest Bubba off roading parties that I had to dodge. Then the rocks became more numerous and larger, followed by large water filled holes everywhere.
A smart runner (nb: not me) would have turned around at this point and gone back to the old, asphalt route, but no, I was determined that this would get better if I just stuck out the bad parts.
I was ruminating on whether the bad parts were ever going to end when somehow I stepped in a hole, on a rock, through a rut--doesn't matter, but suddenly I was no longer vertical but was headed for the ground.
OF COURSE I put out my hand to block my fall and I hit the dirt/rock/gravel hard, taking a full Nelson twist and saying words that do not make themselves for repetition on a blogsite.
When I stopped the dryer tumble, I was sitting up with a broken Garmin dangling from my wrist (fortunately it had taken the majority of the impact rather than my arm. However, the owner's manual does not advise doing that) and both my knees were scraped raw and bleeding hard. I scrambled up, found nothing broken, and assessed the damage.
I was 1.5 miles from home, and I still had 4.5 miles to do if I was going to finish my scheduled run. Determined (read: crazy), I folded my broken-strap Garmin (which by the way, I fixed later with one of those black plastic ties, and thus it serves me today in that fashion) into my fuel belt, wiped off my knees with my (dirty) hands, and started running again. Yeah, now I noticed a definite twinge to my right knee. But I'm not quitting.
About a half mile later, I encountered the Wolf Pack. Okay, they were actually Minature Pinchsers, but there were SEVEN of them charging me all at once, maddened I am sure by the sight and smell of my blood, if not the Gu gel in my belt. This was the boonies, no leash laws (not that such things ever make a difference to some people) and no owner in sight. One dadgummed little donut of a dog latched its teeth INTO MY SHOE as I tried to hobble past. Instinctively I lashed out a Chuck Norris high kick, sending this annoyance about 30 feet in the air just like an extra point in football. At which point the owner shows up (an overweight lady in a nightgown--now remember this was 2 p.m.) outside her trailer, hollering at me to NOT HURT HER DOGS, DADGUMMIT. Which are still charging me and showing their teeth.
I'm a dog person. I have six of my own (on a leash or behind a fence). I'm bleeding, my knee is singing Ave Maria, and there are six small rats snapping at my heels. I do the wise thing and simply decide this is the time and place for a fartlek, and thus I hit high gear and run away from all this hysteria, forgetting for a moment that I will need to GO BACK THAT WAY to get home.
I outpace the pack, stop to take a drink and re-assess the situation. I decide to keep running. And it's getting hot now, about 90 degrees, and my knees are streaming blood down into my shoes. And now I realize I have to run back through the Wolf Pack.
About 4 miles into this run, I've had enough. I rip out my phone and call my husband to come get me. Now. I'm bleeding all over the road here.
My husband then informs me that he just tore his ACL playing basketball.
It was a long night.
(PS yes, I did recover and run the half marathon, and no, I never ran down that road again).
THE BIKE
Bike falls are generally more tramautic in nature because (a) it's a longer way down and (b) you are going faster. Now there are bike falls that happen because you forgot to unclip and you topple over at a stoplight (always a spectator thrill), but the majority of Bad Bike Falls come when you are going fast. This is why you wear a helmet.
I was crusing around White Rock Lake one very windy afternoon (wind was gusting up to 40 mph) and I was headed down to the aerobars from an upright position. I was still not totally comfortable on the bars, and getting from Point A (upright) to Point B (folded over like an envelope with your elbows steering) involves some, well, balance. I socked left elbow into the cup and was on my way down with right elbow when a particularly nasty blow of wind gusted and simply twisted my handlebars 180 degrees (that would mean they were facing me, not a good thing when you are cruising down a small hill about 18 mph). I had time to yell "this is gonna hurt!" (as if that were news), my feet yanked upwards trying vainly to defy the clips, and I went head over teakettle onto the concrete, striking with my shoulder first and my knee second and doing a complete somersault away from the bike.
It took a moment for me to blink and realize I was mostly still intact, although my shoulder felt like it had been hit by a NFL linebacker. I sat up and told myself "you're all right" (my favorite mantra, even if it's not true). I didn't move much more than that, however, and I couldn't assemble my thoughts long enough to stand up, look at my bike, or look at my knee (same knee as the run! 4 years later!). Some kind runner (thank you) stopped and asked if I was okay (of course I said yes. I lied). He fortunately didn't believe me and helped me to my feet, and then picked up my bike (oh yeah, the bike!). It had a crooked front wheel that he straightened with his bare hands (this was not a young dude, and if I wasn't already married to the most wonderful man in the universe, I would have married him right then) and suggested I go clean up my knee, and my shoulder, both of which were oozing things not appropriate for a bike ride.
Yet, I was halfway 'round the lake already. I could turn around (4 miles back) or keep going (4.5 miles forward) to get to my car. I choose to get on the bike and keep going. I was wobbly and sore, but I managed to get to the car. This was six weeks before my first Olympic triathlon. I was Not Happy.
I ended up with a Grade 2 shoulder separation (nasty thing and it limited my swimming for about 30 days) and a lot of ugly road rash. What I also ended up with was a healthy dose of FEAR of FALLING.
For about four weeks, I was unable to go down on my aerobars at all. I was afraid of falling again. Finally, I was able to force myself down, but only for a little bit at a time. Any rut, shadow, person, car, dog, bird, squirrel, wind, leaf, or grass clipping in my vision would cause me to sit up in panic and grab for the normal handlebars. I was also afraid to go fast. I would feather the brakes on big downhills and slow down dramatically on turns and whenever I saw something/someone that might be a crash potential. Not six weeks later I nearly had another spill when a clueless walker stepped right in front of my bike, which didn't help my mindset too much.
I'm mostly recovered from the willies now, although not completely. I'm now back on my aerobars most of my ride, I now arrow down the hills and am taking my turns more aggressively. Still, the memory of The Fall is very clear in my mind. I still find fear on some steep downhills and sharp turns. I read that a little fear increases your edge, but I'd like it to be a little less than I have now.
Still, I grit my teeth when I'm feeling anxious on the bike and just go for it. Life's short. Push the pedals. Do, or do not. Yoda and all.
Friday night was a 2000 easy swim, Saturday was off (weight training), Sunday was an easy brick and yesterday was a 5 mile long run at an easy pace--it was hot and humid at 6:45 a.m. and I broke a record for sweating. Tonight is a short bike and we leave tomorrow for Wyoming and cooler weather for a couple of days. I'll be off training other than running, although we will be hiking quite a bit, including one difficult and long hike.
T
Most falls happen on a bike. Some will happen on a run--yes, I've fallen nicely while running. I guess you could fall when swimming but I'm trying to picture how. Maybe on your way to the pool or while getting out (as we get older, those nice ladders look way more interesting than the hoist up on the side from the hips action. What's really funny--or not--is when you try that move and fail. Like I have. Several times. In a row).
THE RUN
My big running crash was about 3 years ago. I was in training for my first half marathon and had a 7 mile run scheduled that day. It was not starting out to be a good day for running; it was a warm day in late February (this is Texas. We can get 90 degree days in February, okay? Just remember that we also get 110 degree days in July and you can feel better about all of that). I had obligations that morning so the run was in the afternoon; not my favorite time of day to run and especially not when it's warm. I was already tired as well, but the show must go on. I strapped on my Garmin and my running shoes and headed out the door.
I had already decided to take a little bit different route for my run than before. I lived (back then) out in the boonies and there was a little dirt/rock road that branched off of my main running road that looked quite intriguing. I had walked a bit of that road the other day and the dirt looked firm and dry and inviting to someone who is always searching for a way to avoid asphalt pounding.
So off I went to Adventureland, trotting down this new road under these huge trees and enjoying myself immensely, or as much as you can enjoy yourself while running tired in the heat of the day. For about a mile this semi euphoria lasted. Then the road started deteriorating on me, and rapidly. First there were the huge ruts from the latest Bubba off roading parties that I had to dodge. Then the rocks became more numerous and larger, followed by large water filled holes everywhere.
A smart runner (nb: not me) would have turned around at this point and gone back to the old, asphalt route, but no, I was determined that this would get better if I just stuck out the bad parts.
I was ruminating on whether the bad parts were ever going to end when somehow I stepped in a hole, on a rock, through a rut--doesn't matter, but suddenly I was no longer vertical but was headed for the ground.
OF COURSE I put out my hand to block my fall and I hit the dirt/rock/gravel hard, taking a full Nelson twist and saying words that do not make themselves for repetition on a blogsite.
When I stopped the dryer tumble, I was sitting up with a broken Garmin dangling from my wrist (fortunately it had taken the majority of the impact rather than my arm. However, the owner's manual does not advise doing that) and both my knees were scraped raw and bleeding hard. I scrambled up, found nothing broken, and assessed the damage.
I was 1.5 miles from home, and I still had 4.5 miles to do if I was going to finish my scheduled run. Determined (read: crazy), I folded my broken-strap Garmin (which by the way, I fixed later with one of those black plastic ties, and thus it serves me today in that fashion) into my fuel belt, wiped off my knees with my (dirty) hands, and started running again. Yeah, now I noticed a definite twinge to my right knee. But I'm not quitting.
About a half mile later, I encountered the Wolf Pack. Okay, they were actually Minature Pinchsers, but there were SEVEN of them charging me all at once, maddened I am sure by the sight and smell of my blood, if not the Gu gel in my belt. This was the boonies, no leash laws (not that such things ever make a difference to some people) and no owner in sight. One dadgummed little donut of a dog latched its teeth INTO MY SHOE as I tried to hobble past. Instinctively I lashed out a Chuck Norris high kick, sending this annoyance about 30 feet in the air just like an extra point in football. At which point the owner shows up (an overweight lady in a nightgown--now remember this was 2 p.m.) outside her trailer, hollering at me to NOT HURT HER DOGS, DADGUMMIT. Which are still charging me and showing their teeth.
I'm a dog person. I have six of my own (on a leash or behind a fence). I'm bleeding, my knee is singing Ave Maria, and there are six small rats snapping at my heels. I do the wise thing and simply decide this is the time and place for a fartlek, and thus I hit high gear and run away from all this hysteria, forgetting for a moment that I will need to GO BACK THAT WAY to get home.
I outpace the pack, stop to take a drink and re-assess the situation. I decide to keep running. And it's getting hot now, about 90 degrees, and my knees are streaming blood down into my shoes. And now I realize I have to run back through the Wolf Pack.
About 4 miles into this run, I've had enough. I rip out my phone and call my husband to come get me. Now. I'm bleeding all over the road here.
My husband then informs me that he just tore his ACL playing basketball.
It was a long night.
(PS yes, I did recover and run the half marathon, and no, I never ran down that road again).
THE BIKE
Bike falls are generally more tramautic in nature because (a) it's a longer way down and (b) you are going faster. Now there are bike falls that happen because you forgot to unclip and you topple over at a stoplight (always a spectator thrill), but the majority of Bad Bike Falls come when you are going fast. This is why you wear a helmet.
I was crusing around White Rock Lake one very windy afternoon (wind was gusting up to 40 mph) and I was headed down to the aerobars from an upright position. I was still not totally comfortable on the bars, and getting from Point A (upright) to Point B (folded over like an envelope with your elbows steering) involves some, well, balance. I socked left elbow into the cup and was on my way down with right elbow when a particularly nasty blow of wind gusted and simply twisted my handlebars 180 degrees (that would mean they were facing me, not a good thing when you are cruising down a small hill about 18 mph). I had time to yell "this is gonna hurt!" (as if that were news), my feet yanked upwards trying vainly to defy the clips, and I went head over teakettle onto the concrete, striking with my shoulder first and my knee second and doing a complete somersault away from the bike.
It took a moment for me to blink and realize I was mostly still intact, although my shoulder felt like it had been hit by a NFL linebacker. I sat up and told myself "you're all right" (my favorite mantra, even if it's not true). I didn't move much more than that, however, and I couldn't assemble my thoughts long enough to stand up, look at my bike, or look at my knee (same knee as the run! 4 years later!). Some kind runner (thank you) stopped and asked if I was okay (of course I said yes. I lied). He fortunately didn't believe me and helped me to my feet, and then picked up my bike (oh yeah, the bike!). It had a crooked front wheel that he straightened with his bare hands (this was not a young dude, and if I wasn't already married to the most wonderful man in the universe, I would have married him right then) and suggested I go clean up my knee, and my shoulder, both of which were oozing things not appropriate for a bike ride.
Yet, I was halfway 'round the lake already. I could turn around (4 miles back) or keep going (4.5 miles forward) to get to my car. I choose to get on the bike and keep going. I was wobbly and sore, but I managed to get to the car. This was six weeks before my first Olympic triathlon. I was Not Happy.
I ended up with a Grade 2 shoulder separation (nasty thing and it limited my swimming for about 30 days) and a lot of ugly road rash. What I also ended up with was a healthy dose of FEAR of FALLING.
For about four weeks, I was unable to go down on my aerobars at all. I was afraid of falling again. Finally, I was able to force myself down, but only for a little bit at a time. Any rut, shadow, person, car, dog, bird, squirrel, wind, leaf, or grass clipping in my vision would cause me to sit up in panic and grab for the normal handlebars. I was also afraid to go fast. I would feather the brakes on big downhills and slow down dramatically on turns and whenever I saw something/someone that might be a crash potential. Not six weeks later I nearly had another spill when a clueless walker stepped right in front of my bike, which didn't help my mindset too much.
I'm mostly recovered from the willies now, although not completely. I'm now back on my aerobars most of my ride, I now arrow down the hills and am taking my turns more aggressively. Still, the memory of The Fall is very clear in my mind. I still find fear on some steep downhills and sharp turns. I read that a little fear increases your edge, but I'd like it to be a little less than I have now.
Still, I grit my teeth when I'm feeling anxious on the bike and just go for it. Life's short. Push the pedals. Do, or do not. Yoda and all.
Friday night was a 2000 easy swim, Saturday was off (weight training), Sunday was an easy brick and yesterday was a 5 mile long run at an easy pace--it was hot and humid at 6:45 a.m. and I broke a record for sweating. Tonight is a short bike and we leave tomorrow for Wyoming and cooler weather for a couple of days. I'll be off training other than running, although we will be hiking quite a bit, including one difficult and long hike.
T
Friday, July 2, 2010
Super Bike Stuff
OK, I've previously laid out all my swim and run stuff that I think is cool, useful, and of course not cheap (with some limited exceptions), and now it's time to look at my bike stuff.
I don't want to discuss bikes themselves, as they are a whole novel of discussion, but the stuff that goes on them, around them, with them, and on me when I'm on them. Bikes are the most expensive part of a triathlon program, and the stuff you have to have to ride them comes pretty darned close to second place in the Foolish Ways to Spend Money Category.
But, let's really be honest here, bikes are kinda fun. If you can get past the not-so-fun parts of grinding (er, spinning) your way up hills, it's still a kid-like rush to whiz down one, wind whipping in your face and your white knuckles grabbing the handlebars (areobars, brakes, whatever) as scenery rushes by you.
Here are some of the things I have for cruising around on my bike (a used Trek 2300 road bike with excellent components and wheels, sniped on eBay for me by Patient Spouse for $800):
1. Clothes and shoes. Anyone who has never ridden a bike more than 10 miles may laugh at the stuffed potato pants or shorts worn by smart bikers. Those of us in the know wear them proudly, and on occasion, backwards (like I did accidentally last week). That gel pad at the bottom really does help the back end, and the older you are, the more helpful it seems to get. Now, in a triathlon race, most athletes wear tri shorts which don't have that Saturday Night Live bulging pants gel, but a smaller chamois pad which allegedly still helps the nether ends, but doesn't weigh you down on the swim and run. Jury's out IMO on whether that narrow little chamois pad helps all that much. I can assure you that the bulging gel pack DOES help.
On training rides (not races) I wear a pair of bulging pad bike shorts (I also have a long pair of bulging gel pad bike tights for colder days). The Patient Spouse seems to have a tougher behind and usually wears form fitting spandex run shorts without a pad and manages to survive with a smile on his face. For triathlon races, I wear the tri shorts. Which means about every 12 miles in the race I have to stand up in the pedals for about half a minute and let blood flow come back into the important areas.
Cycling tops (jerseys) are often colorful, and for a very good reason. We want that person who is texting and eating lunch while speeding in his (or her, to be fair) SUV down our streets to SEE US. Most jerseys are short or long sleeved rather than sleeveless (although there are sleeveless ones, and I like to wear them in the hot Texas summers) to help protect the rider from bugs, sunburn, road debris, and the occasional tumble (had I been wearing a jersey with sleeves when I took my epic fall in March, I would not have this lovely long lasting road rash scar on my shoulder). Most jerseys have a zip up front to lower or raise your flag depending on the heat, and all have handy dandy pockets in the back for storing phones, Kleenex, gels, dollar bills, car keys, or your get out of jail free card (you didn't think there was gonna be room in those tight shorts, did you?). Cycle jerseys are made from synthetic wicking material to dry fast and keep you cool.
Do you have to have a fancy cycle jersey to ride? Well, of course not. I'd stay away from the COTTON again, but your running shirts can do double duty if you don't mind no handy dandy pocket in the back (and I have a couple of running shirts that do have those pockets, but they tend to be pretty small in nature).
If you have clip pedals (the kind where your shoes fasten into them), you will need specialized clip in cycling shoes. These make awesome clopping noises when you walk on them. Clip in pedals are not necessary--a lot of bikes still have straps and cages for your normal running shoes--but our friend Mr. Science indicates that you will go faster and more efficiently with clip ins, which causes you to pedal that whole circle 'round (up AND down) rather than just mashing down on the pedal. Straps and baskets help, but they are not as efficient. And nothing beats the spectator amusement of watching someone clipped into pedals forget that simple fact (I love to fall over at stoplights at zero speed, like Arte Johnson in Laugh In, because I forget I have to unclip before I can put my foot down. Even though unclipping is fast and simple--just a twist of the foot--your brain just doesn't want to accomplish it when you are in a hurry).
Socks--I like thin socks for both biking and running (and in triathlons, you often go sockless to save time in shorter races, but in longer ones, I do wear socks). In the winter, I have warmer biking socks because your feet can just get wicked cold on that bike.
Helmet--only really, really, REALLY stupid people bike without a helmet. We all fall down--even the best and most careful bikers. Why would anyone want to risk eating their meals through a tube the rest of their lives because a helmet looks or feels dorky? All races and bike rallies require a helmet. Find one in neat colors. No, you don't have to wear those long ended specialized aerodynamic ones that make you look like ET. They do shave a little time off, but it's so minimal that people like you and me don't need to bother. Wear a helmet. Always. And if you have a fall on it, replace it immediately.
Gloves. I like wearing bike gloves (these are fingerless models with a cushion of fabric or gel on the hands) because they help reduce vibration on my hands AND they keep a firm grip on the bars when I'm sweaty (I sweat with my hands more than anywhere else, I swear). Patient Spouse does not like gloves. It's up to you. For winter, I wear full finger gloves as your hands get almost as cold as your feet up there.
Sunglasses. Always. Bugs, dirt, and road crap in your eyes is not pleasant.
2. Lights. Did I mention that we want you to be SEEN on the bike? Well, add the flashing lights here. I always have a rear red light and I always turn it on to flash when I ride (most bike lights have lots of flashing choices, so it's fun to play with them). If you plan to ride in the dusk, a front white light is good too. Then add some reflectors to your wheels, and you still need to be careful out there. Drivers aren't looking for you, and Texas is still not a bike friendly state.
3. Carry packs and water cages. Although those handy pockets on your jerseys hold a lot, they can't hold everything on a long bike. I have a bike pack that sits neatly behind my bike seat, velcroed in place, that holds some repair gear, my phone (again, turned off: I have bike dialed people by accident before), a gel, and some cash (trust me: cash is still king. It spends everywhere). You can't get to the bike pack while you are riding, but stopping is not difficult (if you remember to unclip first). The bike shops also carry these neat little "bento boxes" that fit on top of your top bar with velcro (God bless them man who saw cockleburrs on his socks = velcro)and you can reach into that during your ride without stopping (carefully of course). I don't have one yet but am thinking of one. Currently, during triathlons, I tape a gel pack on the top handlebar because it's easier to reach than my back handy pocket (having dropped one in a training ride before doing that). A bento box may be just the thing.
You'll need to hydrate during your ride, so water bottle cages are needed. At least one, and maybe two (I have two). Underneath your bike is the best place; there are the type of cages that go on the back behind your seat but IMO they rattle and the bottles can fall out. The water bottles you buy for those cages should be insulated and with an easy top that pulls open with your teeth. You can, of course, stash a plain plastic Ozarka bottle in a cage (it won't fit well) but opening it during riding is tough, and it also will get very warmish on you. Invest in a good insulated bottle. Paint some interesting mantras or things on it to make it special (so when you lose it or drop it in a race where you don't feel like stopping to get it, you will feel really, really terrible). I have asked Patient Spouse for a water bottle system that fits between my aerobars as a birthday gift next week (some wives ask for jewelry. Me? A plastic water container with a really long straw). That will allow me to sip my beverage of choice without coming up off the bars and fumbling for my bottle every ten minutes.
4. Computer. High tech rules bikes; you gotta know how far you went, how fast you went, how much time it took you, and more. The standard bike computer measures distance, pace, average pace, and time (there are wired and wireless computers--the wired has little wires snaking down your bike--both work okay but one is cheaper than the other). However, you can also get computers that give you your cadence (how fast you pedal) and your power output. I really need to get one that has a cadence counter, and I will (one day). Maybe Christmas. Who needs jewelry.
5. Aerobars. No, you don't have to have aerobars on your bike (if you have a tri bike, you will have them anyway, but if you have a tri bike, you have more money than I do and you have more geegaws than I do). Mountain bikes and hybrids are not supposed to even consider having aerobars (although I'm of the opinion if it's your bike, do what makes you happy with it). Areobars are a triathlete's way of trying to avoid buying a triathlon specific bike and instead turning a perfectly good road bike into a slightly faster model that is steered with your forearms and a bit of old fashioned grit and fear.
Aerobars work if (a) you get you AND your bike fitted for them--this usually involves moving or changing your seat and seat post position, because the reason behind the areobars is to change your whole body position forward--if you just plop on the bars and lean over, you won't get the benefit) (b) if you intend to do a lot of triathlon racing, because the bars are not encouraged during large bike rallies as they are harder to steer and brake with in a crowd, and (c) you don't mind folding over like orgami with your brakes and gears no where near your hands, you don't mind losing a bit of steering control, you don't mind positioning your body forward over a thin strip of tire and metal, and you realize that sometimes you have to sit back up anyway when you just can't generate enough power up a hill in that position. With all that, you will shave some time off your bike if you do this right, but not so much that you will become Lance Armstong (who, like most pros, only uses bars during time trials, for all the reasons set forth above).
6. Fix it and ready it stuff. Bikes break. Chains fall off and rust. Tires implode. You will fall down and smash your derailer. If you are 20 miles from home, you had best be prepared for a little repair job by the roadside, even if you have a cell phone and your own Patient Spouse (who just may be riding beside you and no where near a car). In a triathlon race, you will have to fix your own stuff in order to keep racing (if you can't, they will come and get you, but your day is over).
Every biker needs to know how to change a flat, and should carry an extra tube, patching gear, and a pump or CO2 cartridge to do so. Any good bike shop can teach you how to fix a flat, or there are great videos on www.active.com. Practice it once at home in the calmness of your garage or driveway because when it happens out on a road with cars screaming by, it won't seem nearly as much fun. I carry a teeny weeny plastic zipbag (some earrings came in it--see? I do wear jewelry) with baby powder in my bike bag--baby powder really helps slip that newly tubed wheel back in the frame, because that is the hardest part (or you can use spit. No, really). A little hand pump that attaches (or again, velcroes) to your bike frame can be used to pump up your fresh tube, or a patched one. However, you can also buy CO2 cartridges that will inflate your tire in presto time (although they remind me of that balloon game KaBoom! that I hated as a child). Be sure and buy a nozzle adapter that fits your tire or you will be holding that cartridge wondering how to make its end go into anything that looks like a tire. Learned that one the hard way, like most of my lessons.
I also carry a small bike specific Allen wrench set for tightening most bolts on the bike (the seat and handlebars especially) if they come loose during a ride.
You'll also need these things at home or in the car: a big tire pump to pump your tires before every ride (have the bike shop tell you the right pressure for your tires), bike oil for your chain (PS when you oil it, PLEASE wipe off the excess or you will end up with an oily, dirty bike), and cleaner/degreaser for your bike. You should clean your bike and chain completely every 100 miles or every time it gets wet (rust is not your friend). Some old rags are also required to perform these services.
You may also want a bike rack for the car or truck (we have a double rack), and a chain lock for your bike if you intend to ride and then stop for a latte (put the chain through BOTH wheels and the bike frame, or you may come out to find the frame there and your wheels gone--or vice versa).
There, that wasn't a lot of stuff, was it? Ok, maybe it was. But biking is a fun sport and anyone of any reasonable ability or age can participate--it doesn't have to be a race. Go out for a Sunday ride (choose wide streets with more than one lane and stay on the right side, single file) as a family or group of friends. Pack some snacks or stop on the way at a place to eat and look at the day. Beats TV any day of the week.
Thursday was a day off. I did some planks, push ups, crunches. Tonight is a fairly short swim (2100 yards).
I don't want to discuss bikes themselves, as they are a whole novel of discussion, but the stuff that goes on them, around them, with them, and on me when I'm on them. Bikes are the most expensive part of a triathlon program, and the stuff you have to have to ride them comes pretty darned close to second place in the Foolish Ways to Spend Money Category.
But, let's really be honest here, bikes are kinda fun. If you can get past the not-so-fun parts of grinding (er, spinning) your way up hills, it's still a kid-like rush to whiz down one, wind whipping in your face and your white knuckles grabbing the handlebars (areobars, brakes, whatever) as scenery rushes by you.
Here are some of the things I have for cruising around on my bike (a used Trek 2300 road bike with excellent components and wheels, sniped on eBay for me by Patient Spouse for $800):
1. Clothes and shoes. Anyone who has never ridden a bike more than 10 miles may laugh at the stuffed potato pants or shorts worn by smart bikers. Those of us in the know wear them proudly, and on occasion, backwards (like I did accidentally last week). That gel pad at the bottom really does help the back end, and the older you are, the more helpful it seems to get. Now, in a triathlon race, most athletes wear tri shorts which don't have that Saturday Night Live bulging pants gel, but a smaller chamois pad which allegedly still helps the nether ends, but doesn't weigh you down on the swim and run. Jury's out IMO on whether that narrow little chamois pad helps all that much. I can assure you that the bulging gel pack DOES help.
On training rides (not races) I wear a pair of bulging pad bike shorts (I also have a long pair of bulging gel pad bike tights for colder days). The Patient Spouse seems to have a tougher behind and usually wears form fitting spandex run shorts without a pad and manages to survive with a smile on his face. For triathlon races, I wear the tri shorts. Which means about every 12 miles in the race I have to stand up in the pedals for about half a minute and let blood flow come back into the important areas.
Cycling tops (jerseys) are often colorful, and for a very good reason. We want that person who is texting and eating lunch while speeding in his (or her, to be fair) SUV down our streets to SEE US. Most jerseys are short or long sleeved rather than sleeveless (although there are sleeveless ones, and I like to wear them in the hot Texas summers) to help protect the rider from bugs, sunburn, road debris, and the occasional tumble (had I been wearing a jersey with sleeves when I took my epic fall in March, I would not have this lovely long lasting road rash scar on my shoulder). Most jerseys have a zip up front to lower or raise your flag depending on the heat, and all have handy dandy pockets in the back for storing phones, Kleenex, gels, dollar bills, car keys, or your get out of jail free card (you didn't think there was gonna be room in those tight shorts, did you?). Cycle jerseys are made from synthetic wicking material to dry fast and keep you cool.
Do you have to have a fancy cycle jersey to ride? Well, of course not. I'd stay away from the COTTON again, but your running shirts can do double duty if you don't mind no handy dandy pocket in the back (and I have a couple of running shirts that do have those pockets, but they tend to be pretty small in nature).
If you have clip pedals (the kind where your shoes fasten into them), you will need specialized clip in cycling shoes. These make awesome clopping noises when you walk on them. Clip in pedals are not necessary--a lot of bikes still have straps and cages for your normal running shoes--but our friend Mr. Science indicates that you will go faster and more efficiently with clip ins, which causes you to pedal that whole circle 'round (up AND down) rather than just mashing down on the pedal. Straps and baskets help, but they are not as efficient. And nothing beats the spectator amusement of watching someone clipped into pedals forget that simple fact (I love to fall over at stoplights at zero speed, like Arte Johnson in Laugh In, because I forget I have to unclip before I can put my foot down. Even though unclipping is fast and simple--just a twist of the foot--your brain just doesn't want to accomplish it when you are in a hurry).
Socks--I like thin socks for both biking and running (and in triathlons, you often go sockless to save time in shorter races, but in longer ones, I do wear socks). In the winter, I have warmer biking socks because your feet can just get wicked cold on that bike.
Helmet--only really, really, REALLY stupid people bike without a helmet. We all fall down--even the best and most careful bikers. Why would anyone want to risk eating their meals through a tube the rest of their lives because a helmet looks or feels dorky? All races and bike rallies require a helmet. Find one in neat colors. No, you don't have to wear those long ended specialized aerodynamic ones that make you look like ET. They do shave a little time off, but it's so minimal that people like you and me don't need to bother. Wear a helmet. Always. And if you have a fall on it, replace it immediately.
Gloves. I like wearing bike gloves (these are fingerless models with a cushion of fabric or gel on the hands) because they help reduce vibration on my hands AND they keep a firm grip on the bars when I'm sweaty (I sweat with my hands more than anywhere else, I swear). Patient Spouse does not like gloves. It's up to you. For winter, I wear full finger gloves as your hands get almost as cold as your feet up there.
Sunglasses. Always. Bugs, dirt, and road crap in your eyes is not pleasant.
2. Lights. Did I mention that we want you to be SEEN on the bike? Well, add the flashing lights here. I always have a rear red light and I always turn it on to flash when I ride (most bike lights have lots of flashing choices, so it's fun to play with them). If you plan to ride in the dusk, a front white light is good too. Then add some reflectors to your wheels, and you still need to be careful out there. Drivers aren't looking for you, and Texas is still not a bike friendly state.
3. Carry packs and water cages. Although those handy pockets on your jerseys hold a lot, they can't hold everything on a long bike. I have a bike pack that sits neatly behind my bike seat, velcroed in place, that holds some repair gear, my phone (again, turned off: I have bike dialed people by accident before), a gel, and some cash (trust me: cash is still king. It spends everywhere). You can't get to the bike pack while you are riding, but stopping is not difficult (if you remember to unclip first). The bike shops also carry these neat little "bento boxes" that fit on top of your top bar with velcro (God bless them man who saw cockleburrs on his socks = velcro)and you can reach into that during your ride without stopping (carefully of course). I don't have one yet but am thinking of one. Currently, during triathlons, I tape a gel pack on the top handlebar because it's easier to reach than my back handy pocket (having dropped one in a training ride before doing that). A bento box may be just the thing.
You'll need to hydrate during your ride, so water bottle cages are needed. At least one, and maybe two (I have two). Underneath your bike is the best place; there are the type of cages that go on the back behind your seat but IMO they rattle and the bottles can fall out. The water bottles you buy for those cages should be insulated and with an easy top that pulls open with your teeth. You can, of course, stash a plain plastic Ozarka bottle in a cage (it won't fit well) but opening it during riding is tough, and it also will get very warmish on you. Invest in a good insulated bottle. Paint some interesting mantras or things on it to make it special (so when you lose it or drop it in a race where you don't feel like stopping to get it, you will feel really, really terrible). I have asked Patient Spouse for a water bottle system that fits between my aerobars as a birthday gift next week (some wives ask for jewelry. Me? A plastic water container with a really long straw). That will allow me to sip my beverage of choice without coming up off the bars and fumbling for my bottle every ten minutes.
4. Computer. High tech rules bikes; you gotta know how far you went, how fast you went, how much time it took you, and more. The standard bike computer measures distance, pace, average pace, and time (there are wired and wireless computers--the wired has little wires snaking down your bike--both work okay but one is cheaper than the other). However, you can also get computers that give you your cadence (how fast you pedal) and your power output. I really need to get one that has a cadence counter, and I will (one day). Maybe Christmas. Who needs jewelry.
5. Aerobars. No, you don't have to have aerobars on your bike (if you have a tri bike, you will have them anyway, but if you have a tri bike, you have more money than I do and you have more geegaws than I do). Mountain bikes and hybrids are not supposed to even consider having aerobars (although I'm of the opinion if it's your bike, do what makes you happy with it). Areobars are a triathlete's way of trying to avoid buying a triathlon specific bike and instead turning a perfectly good road bike into a slightly faster model that is steered with your forearms and a bit of old fashioned grit and fear.
Aerobars work if (a) you get you AND your bike fitted for them--this usually involves moving or changing your seat and seat post position, because the reason behind the areobars is to change your whole body position forward--if you just plop on the bars and lean over, you won't get the benefit) (b) if you intend to do a lot of triathlon racing, because the bars are not encouraged during large bike rallies as they are harder to steer and brake with in a crowd, and (c) you don't mind folding over like orgami with your brakes and gears no where near your hands, you don't mind losing a bit of steering control, you don't mind positioning your body forward over a thin strip of tire and metal, and you realize that sometimes you have to sit back up anyway when you just can't generate enough power up a hill in that position. With all that, you will shave some time off your bike if you do this right, but not so much that you will become Lance Armstong (who, like most pros, only uses bars during time trials, for all the reasons set forth above).
6. Fix it and ready it stuff. Bikes break. Chains fall off and rust. Tires implode. You will fall down and smash your derailer. If you are 20 miles from home, you had best be prepared for a little repair job by the roadside, even if you have a cell phone and your own Patient Spouse (who just may be riding beside you and no where near a car). In a triathlon race, you will have to fix your own stuff in order to keep racing (if you can't, they will come and get you, but your day is over).
Every biker needs to know how to change a flat, and should carry an extra tube, patching gear, and a pump or CO2 cartridge to do so. Any good bike shop can teach you how to fix a flat, or there are great videos on www.active.com. Practice it once at home in the calmness of your garage or driveway because when it happens out on a road with cars screaming by, it won't seem nearly as much fun. I carry a teeny weeny plastic zipbag (some earrings came in it--see? I do wear jewelry) with baby powder in my bike bag--baby powder really helps slip that newly tubed wheel back in the frame, because that is the hardest part (or you can use spit. No, really). A little hand pump that attaches (or again, velcroes) to your bike frame can be used to pump up your fresh tube, or a patched one. However, you can also buy CO2 cartridges that will inflate your tire in presto time (although they remind me of that balloon game KaBoom! that I hated as a child). Be sure and buy a nozzle adapter that fits your tire or you will be holding that cartridge wondering how to make its end go into anything that looks like a tire. Learned that one the hard way, like most of my lessons.
I also carry a small bike specific Allen wrench set for tightening most bolts on the bike (the seat and handlebars especially) if they come loose during a ride.
You'll also need these things at home or in the car: a big tire pump to pump your tires before every ride (have the bike shop tell you the right pressure for your tires), bike oil for your chain (PS when you oil it, PLEASE wipe off the excess or you will end up with an oily, dirty bike), and cleaner/degreaser for your bike. You should clean your bike and chain completely every 100 miles or every time it gets wet (rust is not your friend). Some old rags are also required to perform these services.
You may also want a bike rack for the car or truck (we have a double rack), and a chain lock for your bike if you intend to ride and then stop for a latte (put the chain through BOTH wheels and the bike frame, or you may come out to find the frame there and your wheels gone--or vice versa).
There, that wasn't a lot of stuff, was it? Ok, maybe it was. But biking is a fun sport and anyone of any reasonable ability or age can participate--it doesn't have to be a race. Go out for a Sunday ride (choose wide streets with more than one lane and stay on the right side, single file) as a family or group of friends. Pack some snacks or stop on the way at a place to eat and look at the day. Beats TV any day of the week.
Thursday was a day off. I did some planks, push ups, crunches. Tonight is a fairly short swim (2100 yards).
Thursday, July 1, 2010
Stormy weather
Working out can be fun, entertaining, healthy, invigorating and exciting.
And annoyingly regulated by weather.
Other than swimming, which is done most of the time in the pool (although should also be done sometimes outside in a lake or ocean or bay if permitted, so there's that), running and biking is usually done outside. Now, if you live up there in those states where your coffee freezes before you spill it on the ground, I realize some biking, and maybe SOME running, is done indoors during those months when you have 3 hours of sunshine (you get July and August to make up for that. Trust me). But generally, we are hitting the pavement and trails to do our training, if we are really serious about doing any kind of events, be it bike rallies or 5ks or triathlons. Those events are not held indoors.
(Actually, to be fair, there are some indoor duathlons--very short in nature. Usually indoor bike followed by a treadmill run. I can't think of anything more terrible).
And let's face it, the indoor routine does not come close to the real thing outside. No, it doesn't.
For those who worship the treadmill and the indoor recumbent bike (really, now--you think that is like the real thing?), I am not one of your religion. I HATE the treadmill--simply detest it--and there are not words strong enough to describe my feeling about indoor biking. No, not even those seven words hallowed by George Carlin.
I know there are a zillion people out there that say they run faster on a tread than they do outdoors. I can see the logic behind this. You got no wind, no hills (unless you make them happen by punching a button), no puddles, no heat, no cars, no cracks in the sidewalk. You got one view to watch as you trundle along. For me, for some reason, I always go SLOWER on a tread than outside. I don't know if it's the sheer boredom of the thing (making me concentrate on my wheezing innards rather than the interesting world going by), or the metal in front of me feeling like a barricade, or what...but if I crank up the tread to my average outdoor run pace, I am out of breath and energy in a heartbeat.
As for the indoor bike--okay, I will admit I have never taken a spin class. I have considered it, sort of. I think spin classes held by good, qualified spin instructors are probably worthwhile. However, I am not sure every cookie cutter gym has a good, worthwhile spin instructor that knows what they are doing. And I don't know enough to know if they know what they are doing. I've heard horror stories of spin classes that make you do things that have nothing to do with increasing your ability on the bike, and some things that may even decrease it. Plus I'm just not a class person. My lifestyle doesn't lead to me being at a particular place at a particular time any particular day of the week. Just ask the Patient Spouse.
Spin class aside, riding a bike in the gym is. Simply. Boredom. Taken. To. Its. Highest. Limit. Plus, it just doesn't work the muscles that you really use out there on the real bike. I use the upright bikes at the gym because they are more similar to the real bikes than the recumbant ones, and even when I plug in a hard routine and pedal until the sweat pours off me like Niagra, my legs don't feel like they are really pedaling a bike. They are moving in a circle, and I'm doing SOMETHING, which is better than nothing, I suppose, but it doesn't match climbing Los Rios hill on my road bike.
One of the toys I bought myself last year is a Computrainer. It's an expensive piece of equipment that has software for your computer and a resistance bar to fasten your "real" bike onto for indoor fun. I knew I had to ride during the weekdays during the darker winter months and this was the only way to accomplish that and still keep my job. You plug your bike into all the stuff (pardon me while I get technical on you here), open the program on the computer which you hopefully have set up on a table in front of the bike, and go to town on any one of several preloaded rides the software has for you--you can do the Vineman, you can do Wildflower in California, you can do over 100 preloaded rides from around the world. Amazingly, the computer shows an actual road in front of you (with or without a pacer rider, I usually go without because the dadgummed pacer rider leaves me in the dirt no matter how hard I try) that matches the selected ride in elevation, hills, and distance--and your resistance bar gives you the drag equal to the selected ride--you will get max resistance on a big hill climb and little on a wheee downhill. There are limitations. This is computer generated stuff so you have about six road views to pick from--these are not views from the actual races--and the views sorta repeat themselves every five minutes (you'll say--oh, there is that tree again....). However, they are now making separate software with the ACTUAL VIEWS of ACTUAL RACES--I just bought the St. Croix 70.3 with "the Beast" hill in there--and am looking forward to trying it out this winter. They get these by riding the route with a little camera on the bike or the helmet. Technology rocks.
Still, even the Computrainer, with all its bells and whistles, has little appeal for me (it does mimic actual riding better than a gym bike, and you are on your own bike as opposed to that annoying chafing seat on a gym bike, but it's still not the same). I'd rather be outside riding the real deal.
You know where this is going. Last night I had a 2 hour easy bike, but the weather said otherwise. I'm so happy to see the rain; we've been so dry; but dernit, wish it had held off for a day. So instead of an easy pedal through the 'hood and down to the park, I slogged off to the gym (the Computrainer is packed away for the summer--but I may have to get it back out) and forced myself to ride the gym bike for 30 minutes on a pretty hilly course, then jumped off and ran on the tread for 15 minutes as a break from that stupid bike, then back to the stupid bike for 30 minutes of a fairly easy ride. I counted down the minutes on that entire ride. I was so tired of staring at the same thing and even my iPod couldn't rescue me from my boredom.
Still. Sometimes you gotta do just what you gotta do to keep movin'. If you use the weather as an excuse, you'll never get going. But on nice days, get yourself outside.
And annoyingly regulated by weather.
Other than swimming, which is done most of the time in the pool (although should also be done sometimes outside in a lake or ocean or bay if permitted, so there's that), running and biking is usually done outside. Now, if you live up there in those states where your coffee freezes before you spill it on the ground, I realize some biking, and maybe SOME running, is done indoors during those months when you have 3 hours of sunshine (you get July and August to make up for that. Trust me). But generally, we are hitting the pavement and trails to do our training, if we are really serious about doing any kind of events, be it bike rallies or 5ks or triathlons. Those events are not held indoors.
(Actually, to be fair, there are some indoor duathlons--very short in nature. Usually indoor bike followed by a treadmill run. I can't think of anything more terrible).
And let's face it, the indoor routine does not come close to the real thing outside. No, it doesn't.
For those who worship the treadmill and the indoor recumbent bike (really, now--you think that is like the real thing?), I am not one of your religion. I HATE the treadmill--simply detest it--and there are not words strong enough to describe my feeling about indoor biking. No, not even those seven words hallowed by George Carlin.
I know there are a zillion people out there that say they run faster on a tread than they do outdoors. I can see the logic behind this. You got no wind, no hills (unless you make them happen by punching a button), no puddles, no heat, no cars, no cracks in the sidewalk. You got one view to watch as you trundle along. For me, for some reason, I always go SLOWER on a tread than outside. I don't know if it's the sheer boredom of the thing (making me concentrate on my wheezing innards rather than the interesting world going by), or the metal in front of me feeling like a barricade, or what...but if I crank up the tread to my average outdoor run pace, I am out of breath and energy in a heartbeat.
As for the indoor bike--okay, I will admit I have never taken a spin class. I have considered it, sort of. I think spin classes held by good, qualified spin instructors are probably worthwhile. However, I am not sure every cookie cutter gym has a good, worthwhile spin instructor that knows what they are doing. And I don't know enough to know if they know what they are doing. I've heard horror stories of spin classes that make you do things that have nothing to do with increasing your ability on the bike, and some things that may even decrease it. Plus I'm just not a class person. My lifestyle doesn't lead to me being at a particular place at a particular time any particular day of the week. Just ask the Patient Spouse.
Spin class aside, riding a bike in the gym is. Simply. Boredom. Taken. To. Its. Highest. Limit. Plus, it just doesn't work the muscles that you really use out there on the real bike. I use the upright bikes at the gym because they are more similar to the real bikes than the recumbant ones, and even when I plug in a hard routine and pedal until the sweat pours off me like Niagra, my legs don't feel like they are really pedaling a bike. They are moving in a circle, and I'm doing SOMETHING, which is better than nothing, I suppose, but it doesn't match climbing Los Rios hill on my road bike.
One of the toys I bought myself last year is a Computrainer. It's an expensive piece of equipment that has software for your computer and a resistance bar to fasten your "real" bike onto for indoor fun. I knew I had to ride during the weekdays during the darker winter months and this was the only way to accomplish that and still keep my job. You plug your bike into all the stuff (pardon me while I get technical on you here), open the program on the computer which you hopefully have set up on a table in front of the bike, and go to town on any one of several preloaded rides the software has for you--you can do the Vineman, you can do Wildflower in California, you can do over 100 preloaded rides from around the world. Amazingly, the computer shows an actual road in front of you (with or without a pacer rider, I usually go without because the dadgummed pacer rider leaves me in the dirt no matter how hard I try) that matches the selected ride in elevation, hills, and distance--and your resistance bar gives you the drag equal to the selected ride--you will get max resistance on a big hill climb and little on a wheee downhill. There are limitations. This is computer generated stuff so you have about six road views to pick from--these are not views from the actual races--and the views sorta repeat themselves every five minutes (you'll say--oh, there is that tree again....). However, they are now making separate software with the ACTUAL VIEWS of ACTUAL RACES--I just bought the St. Croix 70.3 with "the Beast" hill in there--and am looking forward to trying it out this winter. They get these by riding the route with a little camera on the bike or the helmet. Technology rocks.
Still, even the Computrainer, with all its bells and whistles, has little appeal for me (it does mimic actual riding better than a gym bike, and you are on your own bike as opposed to that annoying chafing seat on a gym bike, but it's still not the same). I'd rather be outside riding the real deal.
You know where this is going. Last night I had a 2 hour easy bike, but the weather said otherwise. I'm so happy to see the rain; we've been so dry; but dernit, wish it had held off for a day. So instead of an easy pedal through the 'hood and down to the park, I slogged off to the gym (the Computrainer is packed away for the summer--but I may have to get it back out) and forced myself to ride the gym bike for 30 minutes on a pretty hilly course, then jumped off and ran on the tread for 15 minutes as a break from that stupid bike, then back to the stupid bike for 30 minutes of a fairly easy ride. I counted down the minutes on that entire ride. I was so tired of staring at the same thing and even my iPod couldn't rescue me from my boredom.
Still. Sometimes you gotta do just what you gotta do to keep movin'. If you use the weather as an excuse, you'll never get going. But on nice days, get yourself outside.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
