Back to School!

I LOVE the start of a new school year. Love love love it. Driving through town, all of the kids excitedly waiting for their bus, kindergartners getting their picture taken, brand new lunch box in hand and back pack bigger than them on their back. Frantic 7th graders looking for rooms entirely across the school in between class periods, and your own classes attentive, excited, and eager. It's a blank slate. A fresh start. A whole new year. It's so much fun.

It's also so exhausting. Teaching, I was reminded this week in the whole two days students were in the building, is its own form of cross training. Swim, bike, run, schlep chairs and music stands, load marching band van, (and unload, load, unload again...though I didn't do much of the unloading or last load thanks to great helpers), run around football field yelling "left...left...LEFT", singing, bouncing, dancing, directing, and bus riding. Oh, and being peppy. Albeit regularly caffeine and allergy med induced, there's a lot of peppy going on in the world of music education.

And so the lazy summer days of swim, bike, run, relax, are officially over. And the days of squeeze running (and now also swimming and biking) into the fantastically fun chaos of commandeering a marching band and performing head cheerleading duty for the NEB cross country team commences. It's the greatest time of year. It may not bode well for the upkeep of our house or my sleep patterns, but I couldn't be more excited that it's here.

After a late night Friday with an away football game and the first invitational of the cross country season Saturday, we spent our Sunday biking 57 and running 8. The original plan was bike 60, run 10. I didn't used to be so "eh" about shirking mileage. I also didn't used to feel like such garbage while running. Wow, what is it that bike does to you? Moving right along, "soft pedaling", arrogantly assuming that any activity in which you can consume a Clif bar, six fig newtons, and lots of water while in the act of can't be that taxing, and then BAM! You go to run and your legs just don't work!

Our run wrapped up in the middle of the craziest thunder storm I've ever been inside of. A half mile from the car, the storm was so close that lightning and loud, cracking, rips of thunder were happening simultaneously. Thankfully Mike's speedier than me and had already made it to the car and came back to pick me up. I almost declined the ride, but seeing as he'd sacrificed his Cervelo, sitting on top of the car and getting soaked for the first time in the new bike's life, to come out and save me, I jumped in. Good thing too. By the time we pulled under the gas pump awning at the Sunoco, hail the size of junior mints was flying in sideways.

I also love that the first week of school is always followed by a three day weekend. Labor Day allowing us to make baby steps back into the insanity. A long run, a lake swim, cleaning, and sleeping are all on the agenda.

Last week of freedom recap

Mike went back to school on Monday, but I was lucky enough to get one more full week off. Knowing full well he'd be the one laughing come June when he's out a week before me, I was determined to enjoy every last second of my summer freedom. It would have been better to share it with Mike, but nonetheless, enjoy it I did! From solo runs, bikes, and swims to runs, bikes, swims, lunches, coffee, and hanging out in great company, I feel fulfilled (and exhausted!) sitting here Sunday evening.

Our "local" (by local, I mean a 30 min commute) pool was closed this week for cleaning, so I took advantage of my free time to make the hour drive to the Owego Free Academy pool. Their community swim hours are noon to 6pm six days a week and completely FREE to residents of Owego. While I have huge issues with "Don't Ask, Don't Tell" I was all kinds of pleased that this was the OFA policy regarding checking residency status of their swimmers. Hey, when you're from the boonies and need to get your swim time in, you do what you've got to do.

While in NY state, I also took advantage of their beautifully kept roads, polite drivers, and nice wide shoulders to get in a good bike ride. The new bike and I are doing much better, and I think after Mike does a saddle tweak for me tonight, we'll be even better. I'll spare details, but whoa! Things left as they are could, I fear, cause permanent damage:/

The best part of the week was definitely the company. After loving my Friday morning 20 miler last week, I planned my 22 for this Thursday. Thanks to blogging and facebook (what did the world do before social networking?!) I ended up with great company for the whole run. Catching up with Janine and Doug made the first 13 fly by, and Chris pulled me through the next 8.5. Mike and I have been on an unintentional long run hiatus with the Binghamton crew this summer, and I didn't realize how much I had missed the company. It was wonderful:)

Friday was Julie day in Ithaca. We biked, lunched, window shopped, swam, and yapped and it was fantastic. And I decided to take the day off from running. It's weird what happens to me once in a while after a long run. 9 times out of 10, I get up the next day and run, but every once in a while, just the sight of my running shoes the day after a long run makes my stomach drop. Friday was that day.

Saturday Mike biked the Chris Thater Memorial races in the Cat 5/citizens race with our friend Jon. While they were out there doing work (Jon 2nd in his age group and Mike 7th, both finishing in the peloton), I bought discount socks, chatted with some running friends, played course photographer/videographer, and consumed an entire bag of caramel apple popcorn. And again Saturday, did not run. Whoa. I don't take a lot of days off and I rarely take two days off in a row even after a marathon! And I felt no guilt at all. Matt Fitzergerald may win me over yet.

Now, we live on the east coast, so no week recap would be complete without a little shout out to Irene. We woke up Sunday morning to howling winds and heavy rain, drank our coffee, ate our breakfast, completely disregarded the weather, and headed out to run the Chris Thater 5K. After an hour drive to the race became 90 minutes, being rerouted several times because of downed power lines and trees, and some quality cross training by removing several smaller downed trees blocking the road, we got the text, 5 min from bib pickup, that the race was cancelled by the state who felt it was unsafe. Obviously the state is not led by runners. 50 states governed by runners, now wouldn't that make the world a better place?...*flashbacks of Sarah Palin on Newsweek in her running clothes...I take it back*

So...if we can't race a 5K in high winds and heavy rains, what to do?...We can try out our new wetsuits!

Thanks to the Williams being so wonderful to let us use their house and lake access, Mike and I suited up and, to the amusement of numerous Highland Lake residents, made our way around the lake. Holy buoyancy! I refuse, given my fast approaching triathlon endeavors to say aloud "it's impossible to drown in this thing"...but, well, you get it. It was like swimming with a kiddie donut floatie taped to my butt. Phenomenal! The breast stroke "breaks" I'm accustomed to taking were actually not breaks at all today though. It felt harder to breast stroke than freestyle, and when I did breast stroke I didn't feel like I went anywhere. Triathletes out there, any wisdom on this - am I just nuts?

And this afternoon, in the light breeze and gentle drizzle, I got in a 7 miler:) It's waffles and bacon for dinner, VMA's, a load of laundry, and summer is OVER. No complaints though - it was definitely a great one.

About that marathon I'm registered for...

Boston 2011 beat me up pretty well - possibly mentally much more than physically. I recapped as a note on facebook when I thought I was "healed" from the race, but the actual healing process took a lot longer than I thought it ever could, and sitting here this moment I'm not positive I'm back to my usual ''LOVE the marathon" self. But in June, more than a full month before the Lake Placid experience and weeks before I was even considering biting off the ironman in 2012, everyone in my running life started registering for their fall marathons. I've run the Wineglass marathon the first weekend of October in 2008, 2009, and 2010. It has become almost a holiday to me, and though my heart definitely wasn't in it in June, I put my $65 on the line and got myself registered, scared to be left out of the early autumn "fun".

The ironman idea rolled around, and then the commitment was made, and then Mike and I registered to "tri" Syracuse 70.3 on September 18th. Being registered for a 70.3 so soon has me all worked up and worried about the bike and swim. Running has remained its old self. I don't think about it much, its just something I do every day for 12 to 14 days - rest day - repeat.

And so in preparing to swim and bike the respective 70.3 distances I cobbled a 20 week training plan out of Matt Fitgerald's "Essential Week-By-Week Training Guide" into a seven week plan. Not ideal, but it was the time I had to work with and better than nothing. I've followed the cycling and swimming plans near religiously, but I was horrified that he only wants me to run three or four times a week?! I know, I know, that this is half ironman triathlon training and not half marathon training, but I can't do it. I don't know if I'll ever be able to do it.

In keeping up my 6 to 7 runs a week, I felt like my running was going far BETTER than it needed to when compared to the 3 to 4 runs Matt Fitzgerald's book asks for. Until Mike said casually in the car one day last week, "you know, if you're running Wineglass in six weeks, you should probably think about doing a long run." ooh...yeah...I'm registered for a marathon, huh?...hmmm...

Since Boston, the third week of April, I've run the half marathon distance twice, a 14 mile run, and a 16 mile run. Ouch. That is not marathon training. In comparison, according to my running log, six weeks before Boston this year I had run 14, 16, 18, 19, 20, and another 20. I finished off the training up to the race with 18, 22, and 26.2 at a "practice" marathon in Cape May, N.J. My steady 60 - 70 mile weeks of February and March have become steady 35 - 45 mile weeks of July and August.

But, with no time to sit and stew, I decided the long run just needed to get done. And so Friday morning I woke up and traded in a workout with the NEB xc team for a solo long run. 20 miles just me, my ipod (sorry to all of you running purists, but if you had my running mix on your ipod, you too may be swayed from time to time...Mike made it for me and its that good), some honey stingers, and some gatorade. And I loved every hot, heavy step of it. It was the first time in a long time that I've really loved being out there. And 20 miles rolled off like an old habit. Before I knew it, I was back in my driveway, and for the first time in a long LONG time, I was almost sad that it was over. I can't imagine any other activity giving a person the solitude that the long run offers, and I've grown attached to that alone time.

Mike started school yesterday morning, but I get one more full week. I have lots of biking and swimming planned for the week, but I think the big end of summer celebration will come in the form of a Thursday morning 22 miler. I have no idea how Syracuse will go on September 18th, and for the first time in quite a few marathons, I have no idea how Wineglass will go that first Sunday in October. I'm just so thrilled to be enjoying the preparation again!

"Dance your cares away....worries for another day..." A cycling Fraggle Rock theme song mantra.

I mentioned earlier I'm a nervous cyclist. Scratch that. I'm a first rate weenie on my bicycle. Which is especially ironic seeing as I was telling my band kids at rehearsal Wednesday about the nervous break down I had on my tri bike that afternoon, while I was wearing a Martha's Vineyard 20 miler shirt that proudly displays "no weenies" on the sleeve. (A 20 mile road race on Martha's Vineyard in February is not for weenies...its for the lucky few of us out there who know what an absolutely fabulous race it is!). But though I may not be a weenie in the world of running, at times, I'm a disgrace to cycling. Some days I just feel scared out there. I break going down hill. I live in constant fear of the dog that will run out at me. (Okay, so I fear dogs while running too...). I cringe when trucks go flying by me. And yesterday, the granddaddy of all weenie actions on my bicycle - I cried. I stopped. I unclipped. I sighed. I cried. And I rode back home.

I can't pinpoint what the exact problem is. The fact that I didn't grow up on a bicycle? My lack of eye hand coordination? (I literally can NOT play video games. Though I love her to pieces, I blame my mother who forbade nintendo). My general nervous nilly disposition? Regardless, even if I don't know why I'm a weenie, I need to stop being a weenie, and quickly.

The first time we went out for a ride after Lake Placid, I rode my road bike like I've never ridden it before. I refused to be afraid of all the natural gas truck traffic, and I pedaled into and flew on the downhills. (And there's a lot of uphill and downhill going on here in the Endless Mountains of northeast Pa). It was as if just registering for the race had released what I've deemed my "inner bad ass". I knew I didn't have a choice but to just ride, and I didn't have the time or luxury of being scared anymore. Ironically I felt the safest on a bicycle I ever have.

With a few solid rides in "Rachel: ba cyclist" mode under my belt, I was ecstatic to pick up two new additions to our family on Tuesday. A Cervelo P2 that Mike will be bonding with, and a Trek Speed Concept 7.0 with pink tires and pink bar tape (huge thanks to tri guy Chad!) I'll be getting to know well. Our first stop on the way home was a ride with Greg and Julie in Ithaca Tuesday afternoon and it was...a disaster. We pulled out of the parking lot of the Museum of Earth and Greg, Julie, and Mike pulled further and further away. Not because I'm a weak cyclist, but because even the strongest of cyclist can only gain so much speed in their third easiest of twenty gears. (*terminology faux pas here cyclist readers? I'm in learning mode so please feel free to correct!*) And why didn't you shift to a higher gear, you ask? Very simple answer. The same answer, in fact, that I gave Julie when five miles in she dropped back to see what was going on. "Julie...I'm scared to drop into my aero bars! And if I can't drop into my aero bars, I can't shift!!".

Julie is one of the most patient, compassionate, sweet, dear people I've ever met and she's a naturally gifted teacher. (That first swim lesson in Lake Chalet - Julie. She's actually a nurse). She talked me through dropping one arm at a time, shifting, relaxing, and kept up light hearted calming chit chat, and before I knew it, I was on my aero bars and all was becoming well in my cycling world.

Which is what makes Wednesday's outing so baffling. Feeling a little more than a little shifty on the new bike, I went out more to work on comfort than for a real ride. And I couldn't do it. I couldn't drop into my aero bars, I felt scared to death, and my inner bad ass was nowhere to be found. And I was overwhelmed. And well...you know the rest.

Once I calmed down at home, I decided that I just needed to get to know my bike and start seeing my bike as a buddy in this whole tri craziness instead of the thing that was going to kill me. I thought about its (does my bike have a gender?), fun pink bars sticking out all crazily. I just heard a reference to the show Fraggle Rock recently. The Fraggles with their crazy bright hair sticking out. My bike looks like a Fraggle. I loved that show. Fraggles were always picked up and thrown and bounced, but they always just scurried back to their home under the earth and were fine. And that's what my bike and I will be. Gas trucks will whiz by, there will be pot holes (its Pa..there WILL be pot holes), and my bike and I have no control over what anyone else does on the road. But however we're picked up, thrown, bounced around, we will be just fine. And so on days like yesterday, when I just can't summon inner bad ass (I scream bad ass just about as much as I scream ironman), my bike, with its crazy pink fraggle hair handlebars, and I will embrace Fraggle.

And so yesterday morning after xc practice, Mike and I headed up to New York (where there's still a moratorium on gas drilling and the roads are much better cared for...baby steps to being bounced and thrown around like a Fraggle) and I started to get to know my bike. 1 hr and 50 minutes, 32 miles, a water bottle and granola bar consumed (just to prove I could do it), and the vast majority of the time spent on the aero bars later, (though, to clarify, I can also now shift even if I'm not on my aero bars:), I know my bike a little better. We've got a few kinks to work out for sure, but I think what happened yesterday could be the beginning of something beautiful:)

IronMate or Ironman Mates?

I went to Lake Placid on Sunday, July 23rd, prepared to begin my year as supportive spouse of an ironman hopeful. Mike and our friend Julie were prepared to register for the 2012 race on Monday morning, and I was prepared to cheer them on for the next year as they trained. I saw all kinds of people, men and women alike, sporting "IronMate" tees at the race, cheering on loved ones and thought "that can be me...I can wear the IronMate shirt next year and be content...right?..."

When Mike decided that 2012 would be THE year to tackle the big dog of all triathlons, he added on a casual "and I think you should do it too. It would be more fun to train together." Bless his handsome heart for the confidence he has in me, but I just didn't see it being possible. You see, Mike is the ideal candidate for this event and has aspired to be an ironman for as long as he can remember. He was a competitive swimmer growing up, a lifeguard and swim coach, a runner in college, and is now a health and physical education teacher who coaches track and cross country. I took voice lessons, majored in music, and now teach high school band. In other words, I don't scream "ironman".

In my defense, I have taken up running recreationally as an adult, and seem to have a knack for it with nine marathons and a 3:09 PR to my credit. But the ironman, I'm told and am finding out quickly from training plans I've read, has pretty little to do with the run. I have a bike and am a relatively capable cyclist, but to be completely honest I'm a nervous biker. And as I found out yesterday, add aero bars and I'm neurotic! But more about that later. And as for the swim, suffice it to say I had my first lesson in Lake Chalet during Boilermaker weekend in early July. Early July of THIS year:/

We watched athlete after athlete finish that night, each one hearing their name followed by the words "YOU ARE AN IRONMAN!", and by midnight (the 17 hour race cutoff time) I knew that ironMate wasn't going to cut it for me in 2012. So, as we set up "camp" (we slept in the Lake Placid High School parking lot that night to make sure we got into the race when registration opened the next morning), I whispered to Mike "I'm going to register tomorrow morning too". And because he's so fabulous, he was nothing but excited and supportive, and never once mentioned my many shortcomings that I'd have to work at over the next 12 months to be able to finish the race.

An ironman is a 2.4 mile swim, a 112 mile bike, and a 26.2 mile run. All in under 17 hours. Its so scary. Its so enormous. Its going to be so much work. I've never been so excited.