IMO there are two kinds of workout/training people: those that like to train with others, and those that like to go it alone.
I'm in the latter category and I think that makes me weird.
Most people I talk to or read about like to train with others, or a group. They like the company, the go-team mentality, the push that comes only from knowing someone else is waiting for you to get your lazy rear out of bed for a run. I get all that, and appreciate it. And I can't say I didn't have a kick time riding with my friend Elizabeth at the Collin Classic and belting out 60's songs together.
But primarily, I'm a solo artist when it comes to training. I like the peace and serenity that comes from an early morning run alone through the still streets--like last week when the moon was setting on my right and the sun was rising on my left (one of those "this is why I run" days). I like listening to my tunes (my iPod has fried and died on me, leaving me in agony until I buy another one--I'm so dependant on it that Patient Spouse calls it my iPendage), I like setting my own pace, I like not worrying about whether I am too fast or too slow or too chatty. I like not worrying about crashing into the back of someone's bike or having someone pass me just when I'm thinking about moving over.
Part of the reason I think I like the solo routine is that my career--jaded lawyer--keeps me in constant communication with the world from early in the morning until late (with the advent of today's technology, you and your blackberry never part ways until you go to sleep), and my workout time is my time to regain sanity and harmony, both with myself and the outside world. I'm tired of talking, listening, thinking, strategizing, etc., and I just wanna go for a bike ride and listen to the wind blow for a little while. Perhaps if I were in a job that was less people intensive, I would feel the opposite way and enjoy the group settings.
I pass giant packs of bikers and runners all the time (or more likely, they pass me). I got a case of the giggles last night when a large bike group came toward me and each one hollered back to the others about the small puddle of water on the path ("water....water...water...." echoed down the line, like a bunch of lost hikers in a desert). Of course it's smart and very polite to do this but it just struck me as funny listening to them repeat themselves. I also had the puddle to deal with, but I saw it in plenty of time. Although I am not the only solo rider out there, I am in the minority (there are more solo runners than riders, and of course swimming doesn't lead itself to pack behavior too well unless you are planning to use a kickboard the whole time).
I enjoy biking with my spouse, but he is faster than I am, and I know he gets impatient riding behind me. Where we ride, we can't ride abreast, so we can't even talk except at stoplights, so it's not like it's a shared experience most of the time. I send him ahead of me a lot, and we catch up at certain points, at which time he has rested a bit and I'm panting and out of breath, so our conversation tends to go something like "go (gasp) on" or "that (wheeze) hill killed me" before we are off again. Still, I like having him with me, but it's still sort of a solo ride.
I've not found anyone who runs my pace to run with, and even if I did, my pace changes so much on any given day or workout that I'm not sure how well it would go. I'm not a good enough runner to hit a standard pace and keep it there for several miles. Maybe some day.
And as I mentioned, I enjoy being with myself while working it. It's my own decompression time. I love to join others for dinner or parties or drinks or lunch but my workout time is MY time. I am pretty self motivated, which I think helps, and I'm also good at talking to myself a lot ("you are not gonna crash this turn; take it aggressively" or -- one of my favorites -- "my GRANDMOTHER could run this final 2 miles").
I enjoy the company of others during a race and love the rush I get from being told "good job" and from telling the same to others. Still, in a race, it's me against myself (as a back of the packer, that is how it's gotta be for me). My husband had someone tell him the other day: "you don't have to be better than anyone except you."
Three days to race day! Last night I did a short (1 hour) brick with a 45 min ride on the new wheels--I averaged 15.4 mph and didn't even think I was going fast; I LOVE these new wheels--plus a 15 min run at 10:43 pace (probably too fast). Today a north wind blew in and the temp was 69 degrees this morning and simply awesome! So I'm headed out for an easy 1.5 hour bike tonight and then tomorrow is an easy swim. Sunday I will probably bike 3 miles and run 5 mins easy just to keep my legs awake, and Monday is show time. It's gonna be warm--about 95 for the high--but not horrible (which would be 100 degrees) and a bit breezy, but those are perfect conditions and I'm going to have a lot of fun on this race.
Friday, September 3, 2010
Wednesday, September 1, 2010
Dreading the Tread
I don't know about anyone else, but I have a hate affair with the treadmill.
There's nothing about running on a treadmill that I can even think about liking. It's so booorrring, it's monotonous (okay, maybe that is the same as boring, but to me it's not), there's a stupid bar that slams you in the middle if you decide spontaneously to speed up, there's blinking numbers that show you how slow you really are as a runner, you can't just blithely speed up or slow down without punching buttons with your sweaty hands, and if you lose concentration you are apt to moonwalk right off the back of the thing.
Plus, no matter what I try, I ALWAYS run slower on a tread than anywhere else--I realize that makes me the minority, but something about it causes me to gasp for breath when I try to hit my normal outside pace. Don't know if it's the mental aspect of having a bar and machinery in my way or what. But it's constant. I can run a 3 mile 10 minute mile outside and put me on the tread and it's an 11:20 mile for 3 miles IF I'm feeling perky.
Yes, I know there are no hills, wind, cars, rain, bugs or smog with a tread. Give me those anyday versus pounding rubber in a sterile gym.
However. There are times when all of us must run indoors. Heat, lightning, darkness, extreme cold, hail, Hurricane Earl. I get it.
There is an indoor track at my local community gym that I much prefer over the tread if I have to run indoors, but sometimes that too can get rather obnoxious--15 laps to the mile and it's crowded with walkers, strollers, and young children who dash in your way from the side--I had a bad fall there once when a cute little toddler decided to leave the weight areas where his mom was and run pell mell into the track the wrong way--and I wasn't totally paying attention--and you get the picture. To avoid squashing the child into melted butter I did the watusi upside down and landed hard on both knees, causing copious amounts of skin to be left behind to mark my territory (NB: did the mom apologize? Well, no. And it certainly wasn't a 3 year old's fault. Another subject for another day).
So sometimes I choose the tread at the Big People gym, although I know I will hate it.
On Sunday I had a 70 minute run and it was 99 degrees outside with a heat index of 105. Last night I had a 45 minute run and it was 99 degrees outside again, same heat index (Texas can get its own kind of monotonous in August). I chose the tread. Both days, my iPod managed to lose its charge (I forget to turn that stupid lock button on, and something usually bangs against it and plays it for hours to no one). It looked pretty grim.
Still, I managed to get through both runs without clawing out my eyes. Here's some of my tricks on how to survive a treadmill run:
1. Pick one in front of the TV with closed captioning. I never listen to the TV, but sometimes I will watch it. Last night I watched all of Obama's speech regarding troop withdrawal while pounding away on the tread. There's some philosophy in that, but I just can't decide what kind.
2. Pick one where you can see the front door, or the pool, or the basketball court. This gives you an opportunity to watch people do things, sometimes very funny things. Weight rooms are not necessarily as funny as the pool or the basketball court.
3. Carve up your run into segments and reward after each one. I carved my 70 minute run into 5 segments--4 of 15 minutes each and one last one of 10. As I completed each one, I allowed myself a swig of water (I'm learning to drink while running finally, with only the occasional choke and gag), a wipe down with the towel, and an above arm reach and stretch (still while running). It's so much easier to count down 14 minutes than 69!
4. Run intervals--yesterday was an interval run and I was so busy waiting for each 2 2 minute easy segment to pass before I hit the "up" button that I lost track of how hard I was breathing and how boring it was (and I REALLY was eager to hit the "down" button after the one minute interval). You will be so concerned with watching when the times change for each interval that you will forget to count how many minutes are left on the run.
5. Play the counting game. Remember when you were a kid and were so bored on a car drive you'd play "spot the Bug (VW)" or "license plate of states" or even "count the green cars?" OK, when you are really beyond redemption pick a category and start looking for the people who fit it--people with tattoos, people with stupid sayings on their shirts, people with hats (why work out with a hat?), you get the picture here. Give yourself X points for each one that meets your criteria and if you hit a certain number of points, you get a prize (a massage, an extra slice of whole wheat bread, not doing the laundry--you pick).
So, basically, survive the indoor workouts as best you can. Cooler weather here soon which will mean fantastic outdoor running!
There's nothing about running on a treadmill that I can even think about liking. It's so booorrring, it's monotonous (okay, maybe that is the same as boring, but to me it's not), there's a stupid bar that slams you in the middle if you decide spontaneously to speed up, there's blinking numbers that show you how slow you really are as a runner, you can't just blithely speed up or slow down without punching buttons with your sweaty hands, and if you lose concentration you are apt to moonwalk right off the back of the thing.
Plus, no matter what I try, I ALWAYS run slower on a tread than anywhere else--I realize that makes me the minority, but something about it causes me to gasp for breath when I try to hit my normal outside pace. Don't know if it's the mental aspect of having a bar and machinery in my way or what. But it's constant. I can run a 3 mile 10 minute mile outside and put me on the tread and it's an 11:20 mile for 3 miles IF I'm feeling perky.
Yes, I know there are no hills, wind, cars, rain, bugs or smog with a tread. Give me those anyday versus pounding rubber in a sterile gym.
However. There are times when all of us must run indoors. Heat, lightning, darkness, extreme cold, hail, Hurricane Earl. I get it.
There is an indoor track at my local community gym that I much prefer over the tread if I have to run indoors, but sometimes that too can get rather obnoxious--15 laps to the mile and it's crowded with walkers, strollers, and young children who dash in your way from the side--I had a bad fall there once when a cute little toddler decided to leave the weight areas where his mom was and run pell mell into the track the wrong way--and I wasn't totally paying attention--and you get the picture. To avoid squashing the child into melted butter I did the watusi upside down and landed hard on both knees, causing copious amounts of skin to be left behind to mark my territory (NB: did the mom apologize? Well, no. And it certainly wasn't a 3 year old's fault. Another subject for another day).
So sometimes I choose the tread at the Big People gym, although I know I will hate it.
On Sunday I had a 70 minute run and it was 99 degrees outside with a heat index of 105. Last night I had a 45 minute run and it was 99 degrees outside again, same heat index (Texas can get its own kind of monotonous in August). I chose the tread. Both days, my iPod managed to lose its charge (I forget to turn that stupid lock button on, and something usually bangs against it and plays it for hours to no one). It looked pretty grim.
Still, I managed to get through both runs without clawing out my eyes. Here's some of my tricks on how to survive a treadmill run:
1. Pick one in front of the TV with closed captioning. I never listen to the TV, but sometimes I will watch it. Last night I watched all of Obama's speech regarding troop withdrawal while pounding away on the tread. There's some philosophy in that, but I just can't decide what kind.
2. Pick one where you can see the front door, or the pool, or the basketball court. This gives you an opportunity to watch people do things, sometimes very funny things. Weight rooms are not necessarily as funny as the pool or the basketball court.
3. Carve up your run into segments and reward after each one. I carved my 70 minute run into 5 segments--4 of 15 minutes each and one last one of 10. As I completed each one, I allowed myself a swig of water (I'm learning to drink while running finally, with only the occasional choke and gag), a wipe down with the towel, and an above arm reach and stretch (still while running). It's so much easier to count down 14 minutes than 69!
4. Run intervals--yesterday was an interval run and I was so busy waiting for each 2 2 minute easy segment to pass before I hit the "up" button that I lost track of how hard I was breathing and how boring it was (and I REALLY was eager to hit the "down" button after the one minute interval). You will be so concerned with watching when the times change for each interval that you will forget to count how many minutes are left on the run.
5. Play the counting game. Remember when you were a kid and were so bored on a car drive you'd play "spot the Bug (VW)" or "license plate of states" or even "count the green cars?" OK, when you are really beyond redemption pick a category and start looking for the people who fit it--people with tattoos, people with stupid sayings on their shirts, people with hats (why work out with a hat?), you get the picture here. Give yourself X points for each one that meets your criteria and if you hit a certain number of points, you get a prize (a massage, an extra slice of whole wheat bread, not doing the laundry--you pick).
So, basically, survive the indoor workouts as best you can. Cooler weather here soon which will mean fantastic outdoor running!
Monday, August 30, 2010
One week 'til race day
And I'm not really ready.
Ok, I'm ready physically. I am running well, I'm sorta acclimated to the heat, my swim times are decreasing (yay!) and it's not an A race for me. I want to do well, by being better than last year if the heat and conditions allow me, but I don't need to win the darned thing or blow out my knee or mind trying to do something silly like that.
But I'm not quite ready on the bike.
I have a new, wonderful bike that I adore, but I've only been on it for about 30 miles total since I bought it. So I'm not really used to it yet, and the gears are different and the shifting is different and the areobars are different. It's a terrific bike but I need to get warm and fuzzy with it. And before this race, I am just not going to have the time to do that (unless I quit working, which would not help me pay for that marvy new bike toy). I found out this weekend on a fairly short ride over a part of the course that I needed to downshift to my smaller chain on the Killer Hills which I didn't need to do on my old Trek because I had a granny gear ring installed. So I have to get comfy with the chain shifting from big to small and then back to big, and at the right times. I messed up on Saturday going up the first Killer Hill and didn't get my rings shifted in time (clicked the shifter incorrectly) and nearly toppled myself over trying to muscle up that 5.5% grade in a high gear.
Still, even with all that stuff to deal with in my head I know I can ride those hills because I've done them so many times before (they are 3 miles from my house!). I don't relish the thought of doing them FOUR times (it's a two loop course) but hey, I can own those hills, or at least rent them for a little while.
There's also a changed run course for this year, and the last 3/4 mile is pretty much uphill. But as the Patient Spouse tells me, that's a GOOD thing. We'll leave all the pokes behind!
Mentally preparing for an event is tough when you expect a tough course (as this one can be, especially the bike route), but it's important that you remember that your training is solid and will carry you through. At one week before race day, the hard part is over, and all you have to do is hit the GO button on your body. And remind yourself that all of those miles of swimming, running and biking are going to get you across the finish line easily and without strain. The physical part is already done. All that remains is mentally reminding yourself that you are in great position to do your best on a race.
A shout out to Kristin Codish of Texas Triple Threat who did her first IM this weekend in Louisville in 14:26. Kristin does my VO2 testing and her spouse Todd does my bike fittings. Great job!
Ok, I'm ready physically. I am running well, I'm sorta acclimated to the heat, my swim times are decreasing (yay!) and it's not an A race for me. I want to do well, by being better than last year if the heat and conditions allow me, but I don't need to win the darned thing or blow out my knee or mind trying to do something silly like that.
But I'm not quite ready on the bike.
I have a new, wonderful bike that I adore, but I've only been on it for about 30 miles total since I bought it. So I'm not really used to it yet, and the gears are different and the shifting is different and the areobars are different. It's a terrific bike but I need to get warm and fuzzy with it. And before this race, I am just not going to have the time to do that (unless I quit working, which would not help me pay for that marvy new bike toy). I found out this weekend on a fairly short ride over a part of the course that I needed to downshift to my smaller chain on the Killer Hills which I didn't need to do on my old Trek because I had a granny gear ring installed. So I have to get comfy with the chain shifting from big to small and then back to big, and at the right times. I messed up on Saturday going up the first Killer Hill and didn't get my rings shifted in time (clicked the shifter incorrectly) and nearly toppled myself over trying to muscle up that 5.5% grade in a high gear.
Still, even with all that stuff to deal with in my head I know I can ride those hills because I've done them so many times before (they are 3 miles from my house!). I don't relish the thought of doing them FOUR times (it's a two loop course) but hey, I can own those hills, or at least rent them for a little while.
There's also a changed run course for this year, and the last 3/4 mile is pretty much uphill. But as the Patient Spouse tells me, that's a GOOD thing. We'll leave all the pokes behind!
Mentally preparing for an event is tough when you expect a tough course (as this one can be, especially the bike route), but it's important that you remember that your training is solid and will carry you through. At one week before race day, the hard part is over, and all you have to do is hit the GO button on your body. And remind yourself that all of those miles of swimming, running and biking are going to get you across the finish line easily and without strain. The physical part is already done. All that remains is mentally reminding yourself that you are in great position to do your best on a race.
A shout out to Kristin Codish of Texas Triple Threat who did her first IM this weekend in Louisville in 14:26. Kristin does my VO2 testing and her spouse Todd does my bike fittings. Great job!
Thursday, August 26, 2010
Hooray for 87!
It only got up to 87 degrees yesterday! I know people in like, Washington State, are snickering at the idea that us Dallas-ites run out and celebrate when the temp maxes out at 87 (we consider that a cold front, and start shopping for sweaters and hats). But after facing days of 100 plus degrees, including Monday's delightful bath of 110 degrees, 87 was a gift.
It ain't gonna last; they are predicting temps to climb slowly back to the upper 90s (98) by the day of my sprint tri. But love it while you have it.
I went for a short easy 40 min run last night OUTSIDE and loved it. I had to really put on the brake pads to keep from running faster as the coach mandated EASY run (I saw her zipping around on her bike at the lake--seems like everyone was out last night pretending it was fall--and SHE wasn't going easy :-))so I threw in a couple of small climbs since I've been running fairly flat the last 2 months because of the hamstring. Good news, the hammy didn't squeak at all. It was a slow run--around 11:45 min mile--but I felt strong and easy and kept my pace at a steady rate as much as possible. I actually thought I ran faster than the Garmin said, but it was pretty humid still out there and I did try to post some uphills without changing stride too much (lean forward, quick feet but shorter steps, breathe easy). I ran without the iPod because I had forgotten to charge it, but I didn't seem to need or want it, which is unusual for me.
And the temp felt great. It is so awesome to run or bike (or walk or skate) again without having to wonder if you are breathing in molten steel. Fall is my favorite time of year--cooler weather, football season, hunting season, water and electric bills go down, mowing chores start to taper off. People smile more. The lake was crowded with everyone trying to soak in the delicious weather before it got hot again. And everyone looked so happy!
I hope the weather starts to make you smile soon. I hope the Louisville IM this weekend cools off a bit--I have a friend running there for her first IM.
It ain't gonna last; they are predicting temps to climb slowly back to the upper 90s (98) by the day of my sprint tri. But love it while you have it.
I went for a short easy 40 min run last night OUTSIDE and loved it. I had to really put on the brake pads to keep from running faster as the coach mandated EASY run (I saw her zipping around on her bike at the lake--seems like everyone was out last night pretending it was fall--and SHE wasn't going easy :-))so I threw in a couple of small climbs since I've been running fairly flat the last 2 months because of the hamstring. Good news, the hammy didn't squeak at all. It was a slow run--around 11:45 min mile--but I felt strong and easy and kept my pace at a steady rate as much as possible. I actually thought I ran faster than the Garmin said, but it was pretty humid still out there and I did try to post some uphills without changing stride too much (lean forward, quick feet but shorter steps, breathe easy). I ran without the iPod because I had forgotten to charge it, but I didn't seem to need or want it, which is unusual for me.
And the temp felt great. It is so awesome to run or bike (or walk or skate) again without having to wonder if you are breathing in molten steel. Fall is my favorite time of year--cooler weather, football season, hunting season, water and electric bills go down, mowing chores start to taper off. People smile more. The lake was crowded with everyone trying to soak in the delicious weather before it got hot again. And everyone looked so happy!
I hope the weather starts to make you smile soon. I hope the Louisville IM this weekend cools off a bit--I have a friend running there for her first IM.
Tuesday, August 24, 2010
13 days until race day!
I got up this morning and went OMG! 13 days until my first tri of the season, a sprint. It's of course been in the back of my mind (and my wallet since I already entered it) but not at the forefront until now. Something about a 2 week countdown that makes me start to THINK HARD.
It's a little early for a major taper for just a sprint distance but my coach has started to ease off a hair on me this week (or so she says--2100 yard swim last night that posted my toasties, tell you what). Next week will be defeinitely light so my body can recover and be fresh for race day (Labor Day). Anything you do two weeks before a race doesn't really help you build up anything, and can really hurt you instead if you overdo it. It's so hard to back off from the training when you are seeing visions of the start line in your head, but it's the right thing to do 14 days pre race, any distance. The longer the race distance, the higher the back off.
So what I do 14 days pre race, along with some reduced working out, is start to visualize the race, in detail. Yeah, that sounds like mumbo jumbo gumbo, but it really does help me come race day because you see, I've done this before in my head.
I actually DID do this race last year--my first tri ever--and did a terrible job on it in the heat (it's a late start race, because there is a kid's tri before it, so you don't even get on the run course until around 11 a.m.--on Labor Day in Texas--yeah, baby) and want to improve all my times in all my areas. So I've set forth some goals for every area, with what I call a happy goal and a pie in the sky goal, and hope I fall somewhere in the middle of those. I've also got a new bike I'm not totally used to, so I am taking that into account, although weather permitting, I will be out this weekend cruising around on it trying for God's sake not to lay it down the first week I have it.
First thoughts were what to wear and how to get there and what to pack. I'm going to wear my longer tri shorts (the shorter ones are for when there is no one else around to see my flabby thighs), a white sports bra, and my bike jersey (it's white, and my true tri jersey is black, and it's gonna be a hot day...so you can see why the bike jersey is making the cut), and no socks. Therefore will powder up my bike shoes and Bodyglide and powder my running shoes for easy slip on post bike. I wear socks only for longer distance races. Too much trouble to pull them on sweaty or wet feet. I will wear some old topsiders on my feet. I will Bodyglide under my arms and around my thighs before I dress in the morning. Not going to need to wear an overjacket on this one! Strap on the sports watch the day before to remind me what's coming up tomorrow.
We've decided to drive to the course (only 4 miles from our house, but we don't want to be riding in the pre dawn on a busy road). So we'll load up our bikes, helmets, a bike pump, our backpacks each full of our gear for the day (our bike shoes, run shoes, water bottles, Gu gels--yes I take one in on a sprint near the end of the bike, I am a slow sprinter, okay--transition towels, goggles, sunglasses, swim caps, water, Gatorade, sunscreen -- to be put on after body marking, because if you put it on before you will smear the marker, not that mine doesn't smear anyway--bandaids --emergencies happen--a snack or two--banana or bagel--and my Garmin for the run portion), and our race T shirts to put over our sweaty bodies post race. This race starts later so we should not need a flashlight or forehead light to light our way or see how to pump our tires.
I'll be up at 6 a.m. to eat a pre race breakfast of a full bagel and peanut butter. We'll leave the house at 7 and arrive at 7:15.
When we arrive, we'll unload the bikes, pump up the tires, fill our bike bottles (if not already filled), grab out backpacks and helmets, and push our bikes to the body marking area, get marked, and then find a spot in transition. Hopefully by 7:45 we will be able to get set up and ready. We'll lay down or towels, put our equipment out (sunglasses and helmet on the bike bars, Gu in my shoe, bike shoes out, run shoes out with Garmin ON and inside, swim cap and goggles in my little hands), put on sunscreen and wander around to watch the kids' race which starts at 7:30. Visiting the port a pot is essential, so walking around helps a lot in that regard! Memorize walking to my area from the swim exit and bike entrance to put it into my muscle memory. Set the bike gear on fairly low for the start. I'll eat a banana or a Luna bar around 8 a.m. to jump start my system, drink water constantly, and then go inside for our mandatory pre race meeting at 8:30a.m. Leave my topsiders in the backpack and take my goggles and swim cap, and I'm all ready to rock.
Last year we had a very late starting number but this year may be a wee bit better since our swim times have improved drastically and they seed by speed (some people lie. It's unfortunate). I am estimating I will start my swim around 9:20 or so, maybe 9:30. I'll get in the water about 10 minutes before my start to warm up, swimming about 200 yards easy and slow and then a fast 25 to wake up my body, and a cool down of another 100. Then out to the start line with me!
Last year I made the mistake of diving into the water from the side and I lost my goggles. This year I intend to just slide in feet first and get a good push off from the wall. I may lose 2-3 seconds this way but I will save 20 seconds by not having to put my goggles back on. Push off, stroke once and then breathe, and swim steady at about my 2:35 per 100 pace, breathing two, thinking "reach and pull, easy does it." At each turn I intend to first glance up to see who may be in my way on the next 50 meters (and there will be several people in my way, some of them who were the unfortunate wrong guessers on their swim times), plan my route around them, and then push off HARD from the wall underneath the ropes, staying down and kicking for a few beats, and back to the surface with my stroke. Dodge slower swimmers, stay focused and strong, don't over swim or get out of breath.
300 meters will go fast. My happy goal for the 300 meters is 8:15, my pie in the sky goal is 7:30.
Strong up the ladder! Last year I politely waited for a slower swimmer to go in front of me, who decided it was a good idea to rest halfway up. I figure that ladder will be big enough for two of us if that happens again. Then trot firmly out to transition (a long way, and of course uphill) while snatching off the cap and goggles. Think about the bike and the bike course (hilly. hard. windy. but fun. right? right). Remember where your transition spot is, get there, drop the goggles and cap, on with the helmet and sunglasses first, stuff the Gu in my pocket, stick my feet into the shoes and fasten, grab the bike and go trotting to the bike exit. Hop on when they tell me to and pedal hard to get my legs moving. T1 goal is 1:30 minutes at most (and most of that will be the long trot from the pool to the bike).
The bike is two loops of 7.6 miles each, with two giant killer eat your lunch hills and about four medium hills. Very little flat although there is one area that is about a mile's worth of flat, which is where I intend to ingest my gel on the second loop. Four times up those killer hills will be hard in the heat so I have to stay focused on not burning up too much the first loop, while not making it a Sunday stroll ride because this IS a sprint, and you can make up more time on the bike than in any other place. Goal is to average 15 mph the first loop and maybe 15.5 the second loop if I have enough gas in the tank from the second round of hills. I need to also focus on fast corners (there are several) and never coming off my bars except when I am unwrapping my gel. I know this ride; I live right by it and ride those hills a lot. I can own this ride. I'm hoping there isn't a terrible south wind but you have to expect it here. Plan to hydrate by sipping every mile on the dot. If it's really, really hot will change that to every half mile. Slurp up a good amount the last mile because a very hot run is coming. The bike mantra is "I am a powerful bike rider and I own these hills."
Hopefully will have enough gas to power up the last hill before transition (everything here ends on a bloody hill!) and coast the last 20 yards to the dismount area. Unclip (I don't intend to try taking off my shoes while riding, especially with that last medium uphill to handle), jump off the bike, and trot to transition and try to convince my legs how much fun it will be to go for a run now at 11 a.m. in the early September heat.
My happy goal for the bike is one hour (a little over 15 mph average) and my pie in the sky goal is 53 minutes.
Into T2 I will trot, placing the bike carefully on the rack (don't want it to fall down and cause a giant domino effect), THEN off with the helmet and shoes and push my feet into my run shoes (I have practiced pulling on my shoes--which have laceloks so no need to tie them--one legged while standing. It does take practice. Trust me). Grab the Garmin and punch "start" and start running toward the run exit, knowing it's an extra quarter mile added to get totally out of transition so my Garmin will show 3.3 something rather than 3.1 at the finish.
I tend to go out post bike too fast on a run so my goal is to slow myself DOWN to around an 11:40 pace the first mile, or if it's brutally hot, a 12 min pace. That won't be easy for my legs as they seem to want to run fast at first and then get unhappy about it later. Negative splits are my goal and those are just hard work to make happen for me. Try to breathe easy and sing to myself, chant "I am a strong and easy runner" as my mantra.
Grab a water at the first mile rest stop but don't stop running, take a sip and pour the rest on my head and keep going. Now I can increase my speed to an 11:20 mile and if it's hot, an 11:40 mile. This part is a wee bit downhill so take advantage and keep the speed constant but easy.
At the second mile stop take water and walk for 15-20 seconds and drink up. Then back running with you, now it's going to start a long, slow, uphill for most of the rest of the race so lean forward and concentrate on fast feet turnover. Looking to increase pace to 11 min mile here or if it's too hot, 11:20 mile. I can run 3 miles in 10:15 but not with a bike-swim before it and not in 97 degree heat either. So I'm looking to average 11:30 mile and if I feel good enough to beat that, I'll beat it the last two miles of the race. Until I know the heat conditions, I can't quite plan my speed.
At the crest of that last stupid hill, turn right and there is the finish line. Hoo rah! My happy run goal is (obviously) 34:40 and my pie in the sky goal is 31 (I've done a sprint tri 3.1 mile run in 30 minutes before, but that was in October and it was blessedly cool).
So there is what is spinning 'round in my head. Now I have to just go implement it!
It's a little early for a major taper for just a sprint distance but my coach has started to ease off a hair on me this week (or so she says--2100 yard swim last night that posted my toasties, tell you what). Next week will be defeinitely light so my body can recover and be fresh for race day (Labor Day). Anything you do two weeks before a race doesn't really help you build up anything, and can really hurt you instead if you overdo it. It's so hard to back off from the training when you are seeing visions of the start line in your head, but it's the right thing to do 14 days pre race, any distance. The longer the race distance, the higher the back off.
So what I do 14 days pre race, along with some reduced working out, is start to visualize the race, in detail. Yeah, that sounds like mumbo jumbo gumbo, but it really does help me come race day because you see, I've done this before in my head.
I actually DID do this race last year--my first tri ever--and did a terrible job on it in the heat (it's a late start race, because there is a kid's tri before it, so you don't even get on the run course until around 11 a.m.--on Labor Day in Texas--yeah, baby) and want to improve all my times in all my areas. So I've set forth some goals for every area, with what I call a happy goal and a pie in the sky goal, and hope I fall somewhere in the middle of those. I've also got a new bike I'm not totally used to, so I am taking that into account, although weather permitting, I will be out this weekend cruising around on it trying for God's sake not to lay it down the first week I have it.
First thoughts were what to wear and how to get there and what to pack. I'm going to wear my longer tri shorts (the shorter ones are for when there is no one else around to see my flabby thighs), a white sports bra, and my bike jersey (it's white, and my true tri jersey is black, and it's gonna be a hot day...so you can see why the bike jersey is making the cut), and no socks. Therefore will powder up my bike shoes and Bodyglide and powder my running shoes for easy slip on post bike. I wear socks only for longer distance races. Too much trouble to pull them on sweaty or wet feet. I will wear some old topsiders on my feet. I will Bodyglide under my arms and around my thighs before I dress in the morning. Not going to need to wear an overjacket on this one! Strap on the sports watch the day before to remind me what's coming up tomorrow.
We've decided to drive to the course (only 4 miles from our house, but we don't want to be riding in the pre dawn on a busy road). So we'll load up our bikes, helmets, a bike pump, our backpacks each full of our gear for the day (our bike shoes, run shoes, water bottles, Gu gels--yes I take one in on a sprint near the end of the bike, I am a slow sprinter, okay--transition towels, goggles, sunglasses, swim caps, water, Gatorade, sunscreen -- to be put on after body marking, because if you put it on before you will smear the marker, not that mine doesn't smear anyway--bandaids --emergencies happen--a snack or two--banana or bagel--and my Garmin for the run portion), and our race T shirts to put over our sweaty bodies post race. This race starts later so we should not need a flashlight or forehead light to light our way or see how to pump our tires.
I'll be up at 6 a.m. to eat a pre race breakfast of a full bagel and peanut butter. We'll leave the house at 7 and arrive at 7:15.
When we arrive, we'll unload the bikes, pump up the tires, fill our bike bottles (if not already filled), grab out backpacks and helmets, and push our bikes to the body marking area, get marked, and then find a spot in transition. Hopefully by 7:45 we will be able to get set up and ready. We'll lay down or towels, put our equipment out (sunglasses and helmet on the bike bars, Gu in my shoe, bike shoes out, run shoes out with Garmin ON and inside, swim cap and goggles in my little hands), put on sunscreen and wander around to watch the kids' race which starts at 7:30. Visiting the port a pot is essential, so walking around helps a lot in that regard! Memorize walking to my area from the swim exit and bike entrance to put it into my muscle memory. Set the bike gear on fairly low for the start. I'll eat a banana or a Luna bar around 8 a.m. to jump start my system, drink water constantly, and then go inside for our mandatory pre race meeting at 8:30a.m. Leave my topsiders in the backpack and take my goggles and swim cap, and I'm all ready to rock.
Last year we had a very late starting number but this year may be a wee bit better since our swim times have improved drastically and they seed by speed (some people lie. It's unfortunate). I am estimating I will start my swim around 9:20 or so, maybe 9:30. I'll get in the water about 10 minutes before my start to warm up, swimming about 200 yards easy and slow and then a fast 25 to wake up my body, and a cool down of another 100. Then out to the start line with me!
Last year I made the mistake of diving into the water from the side and I lost my goggles. This year I intend to just slide in feet first and get a good push off from the wall. I may lose 2-3 seconds this way but I will save 20 seconds by not having to put my goggles back on. Push off, stroke once and then breathe, and swim steady at about my 2:35 per 100 pace, breathing two, thinking "reach and pull, easy does it." At each turn I intend to first glance up to see who may be in my way on the next 50 meters (and there will be several people in my way, some of them who were the unfortunate wrong guessers on their swim times), plan my route around them, and then push off HARD from the wall underneath the ropes, staying down and kicking for a few beats, and back to the surface with my stroke. Dodge slower swimmers, stay focused and strong, don't over swim or get out of breath.
300 meters will go fast. My happy goal for the 300 meters is 8:15, my pie in the sky goal is 7:30.
Strong up the ladder! Last year I politely waited for a slower swimmer to go in front of me, who decided it was a good idea to rest halfway up. I figure that ladder will be big enough for two of us if that happens again. Then trot firmly out to transition (a long way, and of course uphill) while snatching off the cap and goggles. Think about the bike and the bike course (hilly. hard. windy. but fun. right? right). Remember where your transition spot is, get there, drop the goggles and cap, on with the helmet and sunglasses first, stuff the Gu in my pocket, stick my feet into the shoes and fasten, grab the bike and go trotting to the bike exit. Hop on when they tell me to and pedal hard to get my legs moving. T1 goal is 1:30 minutes at most (and most of that will be the long trot from the pool to the bike).
The bike is two loops of 7.6 miles each, with two giant killer eat your lunch hills and about four medium hills. Very little flat although there is one area that is about a mile's worth of flat, which is where I intend to ingest my gel on the second loop. Four times up those killer hills will be hard in the heat so I have to stay focused on not burning up too much the first loop, while not making it a Sunday stroll ride because this IS a sprint, and you can make up more time on the bike than in any other place. Goal is to average 15 mph the first loop and maybe 15.5 the second loop if I have enough gas in the tank from the second round of hills. I need to also focus on fast corners (there are several) and never coming off my bars except when I am unwrapping my gel. I know this ride; I live right by it and ride those hills a lot. I can own this ride. I'm hoping there isn't a terrible south wind but you have to expect it here. Plan to hydrate by sipping every mile on the dot. If it's really, really hot will change that to every half mile. Slurp up a good amount the last mile because a very hot run is coming. The bike mantra is "I am a powerful bike rider and I own these hills."
Hopefully will have enough gas to power up the last hill before transition (everything here ends on a bloody hill!) and coast the last 20 yards to the dismount area. Unclip (I don't intend to try taking off my shoes while riding, especially with that last medium uphill to handle), jump off the bike, and trot to transition and try to convince my legs how much fun it will be to go for a run now at 11 a.m. in the early September heat.
My happy goal for the bike is one hour (a little over 15 mph average) and my pie in the sky goal is 53 minutes.
Into T2 I will trot, placing the bike carefully on the rack (don't want it to fall down and cause a giant domino effect), THEN off with the helmet and shoes and push my feet into my run shoes (I have practiced pulling on my shoes--which have laceloks so no need to tie them--one legged while standing. It does take practice. Trust me). Grab the Garmin and punch "start" and start running toward the run exit, knowing it's an extra quarter mile added to get totally out of transition so my Garmin will show 3.3 something rather than 3.1 at the finish.
I tend to go out post bike too fast on a run so my goal is to slow myself DOWN to around an 11:40 pace the first mile, or if it's brutally hot, a 12 min pace. That won't be easy for my legs as they seem to want to run fast at first and then get unhappy about it later. Negative splits are my goal and those are just hard work to make happen for me. Try to breathe easy and sing to myself, chant "I am a strong and easy runner" as my mantra.
Grab a water at the first mile rest stop but don't stop running, take a sip and pour the rest on my head and keep going. Now I can increase my speed to an 11:20 mile and if it's hot, an 11:40 mile. This part is a wee bit downhill so take advantage and keep the speed constant but easy.
At the second mile stop take water and walk for 15-20 seconds and drink up. Then back running with you, now it's going to start a long, slow, uphill for most of the rest of the race so lean forward and concentrate on fast feet turnover. Looking to increase pace to 11 min mile here or if it's too hot, 11:20 mile. I can run 3 miles in 10:15 but not with a bike-swim before it and not in 97 degree heat either. So I'm looking to average 11:30 mile and if I feel good enough to beat that, I'll beat it the last two miles of the race. Until I know the heat conditions, I can't quite plan my speed.
At the crest of that last stupid hill, turn right and there is the finish line. Hoo rah! My happy run goal is (obviously) 34:40 and my pie in the sky goal is 31 (I've done a sprint tri 3.1 mile run in 30 minutes before, but that was in October and it was blessedly cool).
So there is what is spinning 'round in my head. Now I have to just go implement it!
Monday, August 23, 2010
Toys R Us
Well, I went crazy over the weekend and bought a new bike.
I'm so excited about it, and I think it's a great buy (I got a 2008 Specialized Tarmac SL2 carbon fiber with carbon fiber race wheels for a great price, totally new) and I needed a new bike badly. I've been happy with my old Trek 2300 and it was an excellent starter road bike (which is now for sale, minus the wheels) with Ultegra components and it was very forgiving and stable. A hard bike to make topple over (although I did do that). A great bike when you are first starting out, white knuckled as all get out when you are zooming down a big hill or riding in a crowd. I've loved it for the last 4 years but it was time to upgrade. The Trek was not carbon, and I wanted a bit more comfort for those long, long rides that are upcoming in preparation for my 70.3. In addition, I also didn't mind the thought of gaining a wee bit of more speed (even though at my level, the wee is very wee).
However, I dithered around before I bought the new bike wondering if I was spending more money than I was worth. I don't mean as a person, but as a bike rider. I'm pretty slow (14-16 average speed), I am no great shakes on big hills, and I still sometimes have to chant to myself "you are all right; you are all right" when I hit 29-34 mph going down a big hill on my areobars. Great bikes are for great riders, right? Within reason, of course. Otherwise, I would be doomed to a banana seat bike with a flowered basket up front.
Yet I really, really wanted an upgraded bike. Biking is my weakest sport, and anything that was going to make me more comfortable and happy was going to make me go out and ride more often and ride further. I looked on line a lot, and ended up buying this one new at a great price (thanks to my bike guru, Todd, at Texas Triple Threat) after only a little bit of internal wrestling.
It's simply an awesome looking machine! So light I can lift it with two fingers (no more asking Patient Spouse to put my bike up on the hook for me). I've only had time to ride it once, about 12 easy miles 'round the hood, and it is like riding air it's so comfortable. I'm not even fitted on it yet (hopefully this week) and have not put on the areobars yet either, but I can tell this baby is going to a lot of fun. I had to get used to three things: the lightness makes it a bit more "twitchy"--I simply think left and I'm turning already!--, the gears are different than what I am used to (double click to take it into an easier gear), and finally, my old Trek had a 'granny gear' ring that was a bit easier (hey, I started out on this bike, okay? I was definitely doing granny for a long time. Now I've moved into auntie gear). This one has a standard ring set and so finding my "sweet spots" on certain roadways has to change a little bit.
Still, my first ride was a lot faster than I thought (I haven't put on the bike computer yet). I thought I was going really slowly, trying to learn the bike and the gears and for heaven's sake trying not to lay it down on the first ride out, but the Patient Spouse's computer says we did 14.7 average pace and I thought I was simply crawling along around 13 average at most. It's going to be like driving a fast and new model car--you THINK you are going slow and then the nice policeman tells you otherwise.
The only thing I'm going to change out is the seat (not comfortable, even though it's a nice one) and the handlebar wrap. The wrap is white. Come on. How many times do you get on your bike with clean, unsweaty hands or gloves? Already I've gotten the wrap dirty (the brake hoods are white, too, but I may have to live with those). I've already put on my pedals, bottle cage, and lights.
So did I buy a bike more than I am worth? I don't think so. If I love it, and I will ride it a long time, why should I worry if it's a type of bike the Big Boys and Girls also ride? When I wheel into transition, I may even scare them a bit (until they see me start my swim, that is).
I'm looking forward to some long, long rides this fall on my new toy. Assuming it cools down here--it's supposed to be 106 today. I love Texas in August.
Buying toys is fun! Using them is even more so!
I'm so excited about it, and I think it's a great buy (I got a 2008 Specialized Tarmac SL2 carbon fiber with carbon fiber race wheels for a great price, totally new) and I needed a new bike badly. I've been happy with my old Trek 2300 and it was an excellent starter road bike (which is now for sale, minus the wheels) with Ultegra components and it was very forgiving and stable. A hard bike to make topple over (although I did do that). A great bike when you are first starting out, white knuckled as all get out when you are zooming down a big hill or riding in a crowd. I've loved it for the last 4 years but it was time to upgrade. The Trek was not carbon, and I wanted a bit more comfort for those long, long rides that are upcoming in preparation for my 70.3. In addition, I also didn't mind the thought of gaining a wee bit of more speed (even though at my level, the wee is very wee).
However, I dithered around before I bought the new bike wondering if I was spending more money than I was worth. I don't mean as a person, but as a bike rider. I'm pretty slow (14-16 average speed), I am no great shakes on big hills, and I still sometimes have to chant to myself "you are all right; you are all right" when I hit 29-34 mph going down a big hill on my areobars. Great bikes are for great riders, right? Within reason, of course. Otherwise, I would be doomed to a banana seat bike with a flowered basket up front.
Yet I really, really wanted an upgraded bike. Biking is my weakest sport, and anything that was going to make me more comfortable and happy was going to make me go out and ride more often and ride further. I looked on line a lot, and ended up buying this one new at a great price (thanks to my bike guru, Todd, at Texas Triple Threat) after only a little bit of internal wrestling.
It's simply an awesome looking machine! So light I can lift it with two fingers (no more asking Patient Spouse to put my bike up on the hook for me). I've only had time to ride it once, about 12 easy miles 'round the hood, and it is like riding air it's so comfortable. I'm not even fitted on it yet (hopefully this week) and have not put on the areobars yet either, but I can tell this baby is going to a lot of fun. I had to get used to three things: the lightness makes it a bit more "twitchy"--I simply think left and I'm turning already!--, the gears are different than what I am used to (double click to take it into an easier gear), and finally, my old Trek had a 'granny gear' ring that was a bit easier (hey, I started out on this bike, okay? I was definitely doing granny for a long time. Now I've moved into auntie gear). This one has a standard ring set and so finding my "sweet spots" on certain roadways has to change a little bit.
Still, my first ride was a lot faster than I thought (I haven't put on the bike computer yet). I thought I was going really slowly, trying to learn the bike and the gears and for heaven's sake trying not to lay it down on the first ride out, but the Patient Spouse's computer says we did 14.7 average pace and I thought I was simply crawling along around 13 average at most. It's going to be like driving a fast and new model car--you THINK you are going slow and then the nice policeman tells you otherwise.
The only thing I'm going to change out is the seat (not comfortable, even though it's a nice one) and the handlebar wrap. The wrap is white. Come on. How many times do you get on your bike with clean, unsweaty hands or gloves? Already I've gotten the wrap dirty (the brake hoods are white, too, but I may have to live with those). I've already put on my pedals, bottle cage, and lights.
So did I buy a bike more than I am worth? I don't think so. If I love it, and I will ride it a long time, why should I worry if it's a type of bike the Big Boys and Girls also ride? When I wheel into transition, I may even scare them a bit (until they see me start my swim, that is).
I'm looking forward to some long, long rides this fall on my new toy. Assuming it cools down here--it's supposed to be 106 today. I love Texas in August.
Buying toys is fun! Using them is even more so!
Monday, August 16, 2010
She's a Brick (House)
Brick, n. (def): something hard that hurts when it falls on you.
Everyone who intends to do a triathlon of any distance must endure the fun and frivolity of doing a brick workout on occassion. A "brick" is a bike ride followed immediately by a run (the word "immediately" has lots of definitions in and of itself, depending on whether I am asking the Patient Spouse to take out the garbage or whether the doctor will see you immediately...but we generally mean as soon as you can change your shoes and dump your bike helmet).
The term brick comes from somewhere, no one is sure where, and means either "bike-run-in combination (the "k" being an extra letter which I am sure stands for Kicks Your Rear)" or "bike-run-ICK!" Or maybe something else. Wherever it came from, triathletes know what it means.
You can also do a swim-bike brick (which cannot possibly stand for bike-run, but for some reason, it's still a brick) or even a reverse brick (run-bike, or bike-swim), or even a swim-run, or run-swim, or for goodness sakes, throw in a tennis game in the middle if you want and call it a trick. Biking right after a swim is for some reason not as obnoxious to the body as running right after a bike. Although I will suggest you try some brief running right after swimming because you will be doing exactly that on your way to transition, and the sudden change in atmosphere from horizontal water baby to standing up running person can create vertigo, along with weird sounds coming out of your mouth as you try to balance.
What a brick does is teach your body to start running immediately after it's been pedaling in circles while you have been sitting down. For some reason, your legs will tell that this is not an acceptable thing. They got used to spinning around and being weightless, and now you are asking them to carry the load up a hill and around some corners, and they won't be happy with the request.
Jef Mallet, a funny writer for Triathlete magazine, who has also published a funny book on triathlons (I recommend it), calls doing bricks a needed exercise to make your body go from saying "what the heck is this?" to "oh, this again." Your body needs to learn to adjust from biking to running by storing the feeling in muscle memory so that you don't immediately plant your face on the concrete at your first tri. Because your legs will totally feel like Gumby parts when you start off after a bike ride, and you have to convince them that you really mean it when you say you are going to run now.
It takes a few minutes to get your legs accustomed to the run. How long depends on many factors, including how long your bike was, how hard your bike was, how much training you have done, and whether you remembered to take off your bike shoes and put on your running shoes. Seriously, when you reach the dismount area for the bike (and there will be signs and volunteers yelling at you to "GET OFF YOUR BIKE HERE!") you will have to run with your bike to your transition spot, so it's a good chance to wake up your legs right then and tell them the running is going to start. Even if all you can do is a shuffle jog while wheeling your bike next to you, it's a good wake up call.
I find for me that I tend to go out way too fast on the run (a lot of triathletes have the opposite problem) because my legs were used to turning over fast on the bike, and they want to turn over fast on the run. Not a bad thing except for a longer run I will wear out quickly at that pace. I have to force myself to slow down and take it easy until I get the running rhythm down. Usually, that takes me about 1/4-1/2 mile.
One hint that a lot of articles propose is to start spinning your legs in an easy gear on the bike about a mile before your dismount, or to unclip them and shake them out one by one to get the blood flowing. I've not been too successful with this as every tri I have ever done has had the last mile of the bike on an incredibly steep uphill, so spinning easy is just not going to happen, and if I unclipped during an uphill I will be on the concrete face plant issue well before I start the run. But if you have a flat or downhill finish, this is a good thought.
Bricks are not meant to be done every week, although I have read that it's never a bad idea to run about one minute after every bike ride (unless you bring a shoe change, this is a clunky run, keep in mind) to keep your body aware of this possibility.
Last night the Patient Spouse and I headed out for a brick in the 102 (I checked two different thermometers) degree heat. The 15 mile, one hour bike wasn't so bad. But once we got off and started running in the now 101 degree heat at 7:40 p.m., it was miserable. There was no breeze and the heat index was 109. I wanted to run a full 3 miles but after 1.5 miles I decided that if God had intended me to run in this kind of weather he would have made us with portable, internal, air conditioning systems that could be switched to "high." So we stopped after 1.5 miles (around 11:20 min mile) and I dove directly into the pool without stopping go (I did remove my shoes and socks first). I griped a lot about the cost of putting in that pool 3 years ago, but last night it was worth every single penny.
Tonight is a fairly short swim, but I see my coach has me up to doing intervals on both bike and run the next couple of days. It's supposed to cool off to only 100 degrees this week so hey, I'm up for it!
Everyone who intends to do a triathlon of any distance must endure the fun and frivolity of doing a brick workout on occassion. A "brick" is a bike ride followed immediately by a run (the word "immediately" has lots of definitions in and of itself, depending on whether I am asking the Patient Spouse to take out the garbage or whether the doctor will see you immediately...but we generally mean as soon as you can change your shoes and dump your bike helmet).
The term brick comes from somewhere, no one is sure where, and means either "bike-run-in combination (the "k" being an extra letter which I am sure stands for Kicks Your Rear)" or "bike-run-ICK!" Or maybe something else. Wherever it came from, triathletes know what it means.
You can also do a swim-bike brick (which cannot possibly stand for bike-run, but for some reason, it's still a brick) or even a reverse brick (run-bike, or bike-swim), or even a swim-run, or run-swim, or for goodness sakes, throw in a tennis game in the middle if you want and call it a trick. Biking right after a swim is for some reason not as obnoxious to the body as running right after a bike. Although I will suggest you try some brief running right after swimming because you will be doing exactly that on your way to transition, and the sudden change in atmosphere from horizontal water baby to standing up running person can create vertigo, along with weird sounds coming out of your mouth as you try to balance.
What a brick does is teach your body to start running immediately after it's been pedaling in circles while you have been sitting down. For some reason, your legs will tell that this is not an acceptable thing. They got used to spinning around and being weightless, and now you are asking them to carry the load up a hill and around some corners, and they won't be happy with the request.
Jef Mallet, a funny writer for Triathlete magazine, who has also published a funny book on triathlons (I recommend it), calls doing bricks a needed exercise to make your body go from saying "what the heck is this?" to "oh, this again." Your body needs to learn to adjust from biking to running by storing the feeling in muscle memory so that you don't immediately plant your face on the concrete at your first tri. Because your legs will totally feel like Gumby parts when you start off after a bike ride, and you have to convince them that you really mean it when you say you are going to run now.
It takes a few minutes to get your legs accustomed to the run. How long depends on many factors, including how long your bike was, how hard your bike was, how much training you have done, and whether you remembered to take off your bike shoes and put on your running shoes. Seriously, when you reach the dismount area for the bike (and there will be signs and volunteers yelling at you to "GET OFF YOUR BIKE HERE!") you will have to run with your bike to your transition spot, so it's a good chance to wake up your legs right then and tell them the running is going to start. Even if all you can do is a shuffle jog while wheeling your bike next to you, it's a good wake up call.
I find for me that I tend to go out way too fast on the run (a lot of triathletes have the opposite problem) because my legs were used to turning over fast on the bike, and they want to turn over fast on the run. Not a bad thing except for a longer run I will wear out quickly at that pace. I have to force myself to slow down and take it easy until I get the running rhythm down. Usually, that takes me about 1/4-1/2 mile.
One hint that a lot of articles propose is to start spinning your legs in an easy gear on the bike about a mile before your dismount, or to unclip them and shake them out one by one to get the blood flowing. I've not been too successful with this as every tri I have ever done has had the last mile of the bike on an incredibly steep uphill, so spinning easy is just not going to happen, and if I unclipped during an uphill I will be on the concrete face plant issue well before I start the run. But if you have a flat or downhill finish, this is a good thought.
Bricks are not meant to be done every week, although I have read that it's never a bad idea to run about one minute after every bike ride (unless you bring a shoe change, this is a clunky run, keep in mind) to keep your body aware of this possibility.
Last night the Patient Spouse and I headed out for a brick in the 102 (I checked two different thermometers) degree heat. The 15 mile, one hour bike wasn't so bad. But once we got off and started running in the now 101 degree heat at 7:40 p.m., it was miserable. There was no breeze and the heat index was 109. I wanted to run a full 3 miles but after 1.5 miles I decided that if God had intended me to run in this kind of weather he would have made us with portable, internal, air conditioning systems that could be switched to "high." So we stopped after 1.5 miles (around 11:20 min mile) and I dove directly into the pool without stopping go (I did remove my shoes and socks first). I griped a lot about the cost of putting in that pool 3 years ago, but last night it was worth every single penny.
Tonight is a fairly short swim, but I see my coach has me up to doing intervals on both bike and run the next couple of days. It's supposed to cool off to only 100 degrees this week so hey, I'm up for it!
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