High Cloud Peasantman Olympic PLUS Triathlon - "We Go The Extra Mile! (or 2.4)"

It's Sunday morning and the sun isn't yet up, but I am.  Though I sometimes wish I had a hobby that doesn't involve rising middle of the night most days of the week, Jack's 4:50 a.m. wake up call is pretty consistent so I might as well get up anyhow, right?  Fed him, handed him to my sleeping husband, then got up and packed the car. Coffee perking, Clif Bars ready to eat, tri bag (which I am so glad I packed the night before because the brain wasn't quite on yet), diaper bag and a backpack with the kids clothes in the backseat.  I woke up the family, and we were off at 6:10.  Only 10 minutes later than planned time of departure  (which, by the way, never happens.   Planned time of departure must be planned at least 30 minutes before panic time of departure.)

Jamie graciously drove and we made great time.  We had time to stop and get breakfast for him  and the kiddos (I stuck to my Clif Bar ritual) and we pulled into Lake Anna before 8 a.m.  I changed into my tri gear, set up in transition, and actually had time to just relax with my kids before I made my way down to the beach for the 9 a.m. start.

The weather was I guess not ideal for most people (lots of whining -- "it was supposed to be sunny!") but it didn't bother me.  Drizzly and high 60s.  Personally I prefer that to hot and blazing sun.  And please, you're going to get wet the second the gun goes off.  It's a triathlon, people, and it starts with a swim.  

I was in the first wave -- the "confident but not necessarily fast swimmers doing the Olympic Distance triathlon" wave, along with my friend/ fellow mother of a three year old and about one year old,  Andie (the one who got me started with this whole triathlon business when I broke my foot in 2010.... totally her fault I am doing this Ironman in August.)  One of the race planners was trying to explain the swim course.  It was a triangle.  There was something about going counterclockwise around a set of buoys, doing two loops, and then heading through a  finish buoy chute at the end.  As usual my spacial learning disability (yes I have one -- it was actually diagnosed) did not compute and I figured I would just follow people.

I wasn't really sure how fast I should push myself on the swim.  Though I do swim over a mile every Monday, Wednesday and Friday morning, there is a lot of stopping at the wall.  I decided to just take it easy for the first loop and possibly pick up the pace on the second.  The water temperature was perfect (though my full suit was a bit of overkill and I was a little hot by the middle of the swim) and I love lake swimming, having learned how to swim in one.  It had been quite some time since I had to do any sighting and that first buoy looked pretty far away.  There is quite a difference between swimming 1500 meters without touching a wall and swimming more than that but knowing that wall is only a few feet a way if need be.  For the first loop I had people around me and I just followed them.  I'm not sure what happened on the second loop -- if some of the Olympic folks wimped out and decided to do the sprint instead, or if I was just extremely slow -- but the last triangle was pretty desolate. I finally made it back to shore... not sure if anyone was behind me as I didn't look back!   Susie, Jamie and Jack were cheering for me as I headed to Transition 1.

As usual, T1 was ridiculously slow.  I am always shaking when I go from swim to bike, can't get my wet suit off properly, totally disoriented, can't get my socks on, can't figure out what direction I'm supposed to run (thankfully a DSG buddy was patrolling the bike racks and pointed me in the right direction.)  Apparently I was not quite as disoriented as the girl in front of me, who toppled over the second she mounted her bike.  (Sidenote:  When I did the Half Iron in 2010, I crashed into a sand dune about .2 miles after exiting T1.  Conclusion:  The act of going from floating in water to balancing on two wheels is unnatural and inherently dangerous.)

The bike section, which was something like 22 miles, or maybe 24, went pretty well considering how hilly it was.  According to someone I met post-race, it was comparable to the rolling hills in Ironman Louisville and my bike computer (Thank you to the Revolution Cycle booth for fixing my bike computer just before the race!)  said I did the climbs between 14-16 mph and the descents between 22-26 mph.  I was pretty proud of the climbing considering I've only been on the bike since the marathon in March.   I had packed jelly beans, which I love on my long training rides, but I couldn't figure out how to eat them without falling over so I had Clif shots instead.  I also was very thankful for my aerobar bottle since I have yet to master the art of holding a water bottle without losing my balance.  Aerobar bottle = just lean over and drink = awesome invention for klutzes like me (except for when you manage to fall over anyhow, like I did during the Reston Century, in which case you wish you had a regular water bottle because the aerobar bottle just falls over with the bike and is empty for the next 20 miles.)

I felt great for Transition 2.  After dismounting I carried bike over my head and ran to the bike rack, ripped off my shoes, slipped on my Nikes (whomever invented lace locks deserves a medal, by the way... $5 and I don't have to tie my shoes.  Brilliant.), strapped on my race belt, grabbed some Clif Shots, and started running... the wrong direction (thankfully that same DSG buddy was still patrolling the bike racks and pointed me in the RIGHT direction... again.)

I felt pretty good on the run, but had absolutely no idea what my pace was and since there were no mile markers on the course, I had no clue how far I was going.  A ways into the first loop, Andie passed me and since she had a Garmin I yelled "How far have we gone?"  She looked down and said "About 2 and a half miles."  Alright, so only about  half mile until the second loop.  I began to pick up the pace.  I ran for awhile, and the end of the loop seemed like it should have already happened.  As I turned a corner, one of the volunteers said "If you're doing the Olympic, be aware that the loop is 4.3 miles, so pace yourself."  So did that mean I was basically done, or did I have another 4.3 miles to go after the loop finished?  Totally confused, I headed towards the lake. "Olympic, go down the hill.  You've got one more loop."  Seriously?   I saw Tuan (race director, friend, and apparently also a sadist) (and also hard to miss wearing his huge bamboo Vietnamese peasant hat) at the finish line and I yelled "Tuan!  A 10K has 6.2 miles, not 8 and a half!"  "It's a Vietnamese 10K!" he yelled back.  Whatever.  He let me in the race for free.  And yesterday on a training ride, and on his 40th birthday, he crashed his six thousand dollar bike, sprained his arm, got some serious road rash and spent 5 hours in the ER.  I guess I can forgive him.  Hey, all the more cupcakes I can eat at the finish.

The final loop was fine though very lonely.  Where were the rest of these Olympians?   The finish was a straight shot downhill for three quarters of a miles so I booked it and passed a whole bunch of people on the way.  Booyah!  Take THAT, extra 2.4 miles!  Susie was waiting for me at the finish line with my friend/ the race paramedic Michelle.  "Mommy good job but now can I have my cupcake?!?!?"  Georgetown Cupcake -- yes THE famous Georgetown Cupcake that is on TLC -- is one of the race sponsors and their coveted desserts are the finish line prize.  For participants only.  "She's been waiting for you... she really wants a cupcake" Michelle said.   I guess my cupcake was going to Susie.  I took a bite and handed it over.


I have no idea what my time was.  For any of the legs.  Apparently the times will be up in a couple days once they work out the course distance snafoo.

At any rate, it was fun.  And I ran into Tuan on the way to the car, and he gave me three more cupcakes.  Booyah!

Iron Andie and I post-race

Apparently none of us know how to look at a camera

Aloha Nostalgia

I'd rather be outside.  And it's all Aloha's fault.

Yesterday after spending all day at choral festival down in Alexandria, I drove to the Belle Haven Marina and ran to the National Harbor and back.  It was one of those perfect days where you could wear a tank top and shorts and feel completely comfortable, where sunbeams bounced off ripples in the river and a cool breeze kept your feet moving just a little faster than usual.  I do my best thinking on solo runs like this, be it alongside the Potomac or on the stream valley run trails.  This is my heaven on earth.

My thinking yesterday was about Aloha -- how it has shaped my life and made me the person I am.  (For those of you not familiar, Aloha is not a strange reference to Hawaii but rather a summer camp I attended from age 7 to 21.)   This is where I first swam in open water, where I first ran on a trail, and where I first did a road cycling trip.  I ran my first "marathon" around the lake (okay, the Lake Morey Marathon was a misnomer.  It was 6 miles... but at 11 years old it felt like a marathon.)  Looking back on these experiences, I am amazed at all the things we did in our seven weeks each summer.  We put on a full length musical, went white water canoeing, sailed in regattas, built fires, slept under the stars, and trekked the Appalachian Trail.   Some of the accomplishments we achieved are even more impressive to me now -- such as the Purple Albatross Swim (5 miles!), hiking Mount Washington (the tallest peak on the east coast) in a single day, or spending 5 days in the wilderness with only what we brought on our backs.

I was the camp bugler (yup -- I was in charge of waking up the entire camp population.  It's amazing they didn't sleep til 10 a.m. most mornings)  I clearly remember waking up in my open platform tent one morning about ten minutes before I had to blow Reveille -- my 10 year old campers were fast asleep and the world was silent except for the sound of the birds chirping -- and thinking there was nothing better than waking up to this.  To fresh air, swaying trees,  and a view of the green mountains.

Aloha was like a parallel universe.  We weren't allowed to have any electronic devices, which in the 80s wasn't so unheard of, but I imagine now it is a crazy shock to the kids.  After spending 10 months a year glued to their text messages, Facebook, and MP3 players, they are forced to unplug.  As I recall, after a few days we didn't miss our stereos or hairdryers.  During our free time, we were unbelievably creative.  As young campers we devised our own games, crafted friendship bracelets, told each other's fortunes, and wrote songs and skits.

I want my children to have these experiences.  The price tag is nearly what I will pay for Susie's private school tuition next year, so I am not sure if we will be able to swing it (though they will be in public school by then.)  I consider what I learned and experienced during my 80+ collective weeks at camp to be just as valuable as what I learned during my 13 years of schooling.

When I was a public school student we spent three days on location at a camp.  When I first started teaching, the children did an overnight trip at an outdoor education center.  That was soon shortened to a day trip, and as far as I know the outdoor education center is no longer used.  There is a focus on testing and these outdoor experiences the children used to have are no longer deemed valuable.  This makes me sad.

I could go on and on and on, but I won't.  The bottom line (and the connection to my Ironman blog) is.... I love triathlon and running because I'd just rather be outside.  And it's all Aloha's fault.  And I am so grateful.

Balance

I got my issue of TRAIL by Runner's World yesterday and was excited to see that they had an article on ultrarunning mothers who balance the act of parenthood and logging many, many miles a week.  I thought it would inspire me but instead I started thinking that maybe we're all just crazy.

Okay, no judgement here.  Really.  Let's just look at what the article quotes.  It was the sidebar that caught my attention.  "I don't have a clean house.  A clean house is highly overrated.  I don't sleep very much and I don't watch TV."  -Anita Ortiz, champion trail runner.  Well, I'm no champion trail runner but that quote could be coming straight out of my mouth.  Today was my rest day and it was also cold and rainy so we didn't do our usual spring thing of spending time outdoors as a family.  Instead I spent six hours cleaning the house.  Six hours.  Why?  Because it has been so neglected.  I found things we had replaced and lost a second time.  I folded clothes for at least three hours.  I still have the final load going right now at 10:30 p.m.  Yes, I'll be up at 5 and it's 10:30 and I'm not sleeping yet.  And I can't remember the last time I sat down and watched something other than Dora The Explorer... unless I'm on the bike trainer.  And I'm not sure if that really counts as watching TV.

The article went on to talk about how Anita Ortiz, mother of four (that would be twice as many kids as I have) logs so many miles.  Oh, did I fail to mention that like me she is also a full time teacher?  She wakes up not at 5 a.m. but at 3:30 a.m. so she can get in between 12-20 miles before she needs to get to work.  Then she apparently runs during her lunch break, comes home and spends the evening with her family, and then often runs AGAIN after dinner.

That does not seem balanced to me.

She claims that although she spends so much time running, when she is with her family she is "100% there for them."  Quality time.  Like I said, no judgement.  Maybe she is superwoman.  However, I don't see how I could be there 100% for my kids on that little sleep.

I related much more to another runner in the article, who spoke of long runs with her jogging stroller, logging miles on the gym treadmill while her toddler plays in the child center, and waking up early to get in the day's workout before her daughter wakens.  That seems very balanced and that was me until this Ironman training began a few weeks ago.

I feel like it is just impossible to get it in without sacrificing other things. Like, for example, laundry.  Cooking..  Grocery shopping.  Playing Candy Land with my three year old. This is my third week in the Ironman plan and I know it is really going to be a struggle until school lets out for the summer.  I don't think I'm going to be able to follow the plan to a T, because it just isn't going to work.  For example, this weekend is choral festival.  It's all day Saturday.  I'm supposed to cycle 3.5 hours followed by .5 hours of running.  Unlike running, I can't really start the cycling until the sun comes up... well, I guess I could but I'm not sure how safe that is.  I could get up at 4:30 and cycle for three hours on the bike trainer.  Or not.  Because that sounds like self inflicted torture. The whole point of cycling for me is to be outside and anything longer than an hour just kills me.

Maybe I'm just feeling burnt out.  But this could me my one and only Ironman.  It is all consuming.  Someone told me once that you have to look at this equation:  Full Time Job + Children + Ironman = Too Much.  You  should only have two of those things in the equation. When June 20 rolls around, training will be so much easier, but for now there is just so much going on -- something almost every weekend up until that day.

Memorial Day weekend we are going camping with some friends  I was spending so much time stressing about how I was going to get in a 5 hour bike ride, but you know what?  The bike is staying at home. I'll go for a run instead -- before the kids wake up.  :)

Race Report - Longfellow 5K Fun Run

My husband teaches middle school and helped to organize the first "Longfellow 5K Fun Run."  At the last minute I decided to run it.  I didn't really think about the fact that I donated blood the night before.  I've always worked out the day after giving (though usually in the evening.)

I haven't done a 5K for 5 years and my time for that one was around 25 minutes so I was sure I would PR.  After all I crossed the 5K mark around 24 minutes in recent longer races.

Um... EPIC FAIL!!!!

The race course was almost entirely on the property of my husband's middle school and the park trail behind it. The race wasn't chip timed and I was at the very back of the pack (since I was using the rest room right before the start), next to my husband who had the jogger and had to start after everyone else because of this.  There were about 150 middle school kids in front of us, as well as parents and other faculty members.  The trail was too narrow to pass people for at least the first 3 or 4 minutes so my pace was ridiculously slow.  Then there were the massive hills on the trail.  Not exactly a PR friendly course. My GPS said I was at about 8:30 after the first mile.   My heart rate had been about 140-150 up until this time. The trail was clearing and I started to push the pace a little more.  My heart rate climbed into the high 160s... yeah, this is what a 5K is all about!

The race was two loops and when I crossed the halfway point the clock said 13:00.  PATHETIC!  So much for a PR.  Ugh and that huge hill was coming up.  My heart rate reached 177 as I climbed it -- and then my body just quit on me.  It completely ran out of gas.  I was about 2 miles in and my legs just wouldn't go.  What was wrong with me?  Oh yeah.  I gave blood 12 hours ago.  Perhaps a race was not the smartest move.

I walked a little and then hit the downhill section so I tried to pick up the pace.  "Oh no you don't!" said my body.  By cramping.  Severely.  If I tried to run, the cramps worsened. They were the worst side stitches I'd ever had -- well forget this.  I gave up.  I was still almost a mile to the finish though so I l had to keep moving.

About this time I could hear my daughter's voice.  "Daddy there is Mommy!  And she isn't running!  Why isn't she running?"  I turned around and saw my husband jogging at a leisurely pace with the stroller.  He wasn't really racing this one, just trying to set a good example of physical fitness for his students, and I know he'd had to walk the first part of the course since it was too narrow to pass anyone with the stroller.  And he was about the pass me.

Which he did.  And I just kept on walking.  When I finally saw the finish line, the clock was not to 30 yet.  I decided to push past the pain and run the last minute.  It hurt.  And Jamie still crossed about 20 seconds before me.  My final time;  29:24.

The hilarious thing is, I won my age group.  However, it was a middle school fun run.  The majority of the runners were either in the under 12 age group (younger siblings), 12-14 (students), 14-18 (older siblings) or over 35 (parents.)  The only people between 20 - 35 were faculty members -- and most of them were walking.  I may have been the only person in my age group who ran at all.  Whatever.  I got an awards certificate and got to shake the principal's hand.  I rock.

It ended up being a lovely day.  We'd missed church so we hit Clemyjontri Park (only the very best playground in the entire world), had lunch at Elevation Burger, came home for a couple hours, then I went out on a 40+ mile bike ride and my husband met me with the kids at the Whole Foods on the bike trail. Which is just awesome.  Where else can you get  gourmet pizza, boutique chocolate, baby food, microbrews, and Ben & Jerry's all in one place for less than $30?

Heart Rate Training

When I trained for the marathon it was all about pace and distance.  Each training session had a set distance and a pace I was supposed to maintain.  For long runs it was 9:36, for 800 repeats it was 3:30, etc. etc. etc.  I was constantly tied to my GPS.

So I was very wary when I finally decided on an Ironman training plan that wasn't ever about pace or miles but all about minutes and heart rate.  I stalked forum after forum and heard so many success stories from people who followed this plan (Fink's Be Iron Fit.)   I loved the idea of training by minutes because it made planning around my family much easier.  Instead of guessing how long it will take me to bike 50 miles, I go out 90 minutes and then turn around.  Or I wake up, jump on the bike trainer, and get in as many miles as I can between 5:40 and 6:40 a.m.  After work I have to pick up my kids from the babysitter at 5:30 so a couple days a week I jet out the door as soon as the school buses depart and I know I'll be done on time.  I keep my eye on the heart rate monitor and my pace is pretty consistent... both on the bike and the run I seem to arrive back where I started within a minute or so of the workout plan.

I think my general running pace is actually getting faster using the new plan.  I did a 90 minute run today, keeping my heart rate in Zone 2 (pretty easy -- and I kept it in the lower half of Zone 2, between 140-149) and covered 10.252 miles.  Last week I did a harder Zone 2 run (upper range , between 145-155) and covered 7 miles in 60 minutes while I pushed the kiddos in the stroller.

Here's a summary of the week's training:

Sunday - Easter.  I did nothing except chase my daughter around at the Easter Egg hunt.  Really missed my husband but I'm glad he got to spend Easter Sunday with his parents in Australia.

Monday - 45 minute run with most of it in Zone 2 but 10 minutes in Zone 4 (hardest.)  I couldn't seem to get my heart rate up to the 170s.  Overall pace was 8:13.  Jamie's flight got in at 8pm so I picked the kids up and took them to the gym so I could get some spinning and weights in as well.

Tuesday - Up at 5:15 a.m. to do a 45 minute bike ride and 15 minute run before Jamie left for work (poor guy had to go to work after the long haul flight from Australia.... )  Bike pace was around 15mph which is pretty pathetic and I never got my heart rate above Zone 1.  When I bike outside I'm more like 17-19mph and my heart rate is in the mid 140s.  I don't know what it is about the trainer but I stink at it.

Wednesday - MASTERS SWIMMING!!!!  Oh how I missed it.  I love Masters and I hate swimming by myself.  The hour flew by.  When I go to the pool in the evenings every lap is torturous.  I am not sure why.   I got in a 30 minute run while Jamie cooked dinner -- 3.5 miles.  8:34 pace and felt pretty easy.

Thursday - 60 minutes on the bike trainer -- 15 miles.  Still pathetic.  Still didn't get above Zone 1.  I got on Amazon and bought some Spinning DVDs.  Hopefully that will help?  I ran after work with a friend and got in 5 and a half miles -- stayed in Zone 1.  Definitely an active recovery day.

Friday (today) - Masters Swimming in the morning.  We did 300 yard time trials to determine if we were in the correct lane.  My average 100 pace in the time trials was 1:50 - 1:55.  So.. I'm still in Lane 7.  Ugh.  I may be in Lane 7 (out of 8) for the rest of my life.  I am so slow in the pool.  10.25 miles running after work in perfect weather on the Accotink Stream Valley trail (from my house.)  Living right by the start of that trail is a little piece of heaven.

So the only thing I have left on my list is my 2:30 bike ride.   Tomorrow is going to be packed -- Susie's got swimming lessons and a birthday party in the morning and then I think we're going to a BBQ out in Leesburg -- so it looks like it will be Sunday afternoon.  When it is supposed to be close to 90 degrees.  I am not sure how that is possible since it snowed on Thursday... but bring it on.  'Cause Louisville is gonna be HOT.

Ironman Training phase 2 begins... Jamie still out of town... eeks.

My training program is divided into three ten week sections -- the base phase, the build phase, and the peak phase.  Since I had the March marathon I jumped into week 8 (base phase) and it wasn't too bad.  This was my first full week in the build phase.  Holy cow.  And this is only phase 2.  I was on spring break so I had time to do things while my kids were in daycare -- there is no way I could have done this week of training otherwise with Jamie out of town. 

Total amount of training this week:  14 hours.  That is a little higher than what was actually in the plan but since I can't get long rides in on the weekends right now I did one on Monday and one on Friday.  I did my long runs on Saturdays intstead.  Today that consisted of taxi-ing Susanna around in the jogging stroller to swimming lessons and the grocery store (broken up, yes, but I still got in ten miles.) 

I'm still so conflicted on cycling.  Once I get out on the bike I'm glad to be out there, but I'm always stressing out about things that could happen when I'm out by myself (car accidents, flat tires, etc.)  The "build" phase has mostly 2.5-3.5 hour rides, which is probably still workable for these last ten weeks that I'm working.  The final phase calls for 3.5-6 hour rides, which will mostly be when school is out. 

The timing was the whole reason I chose this Ironman.  There is  no way I could do that many hours of cycling every weekend and still be a mom and work full time.  No way in the world.  Marathon training peaked around 10 hours total running a week -- much different than the 20 this plan calls for! 

Will I ever do this again?  Who knows.  It is more work that I anticipated.  Marathon training never consumed me.  I felt like this week, triathlon training consumed me.  Perhaps when I get get the bulk of these workouts in before 7 a.m. (when Jamie returns) it will feel differently.  The time of the day makes a huge difference.

Ironman... really... what was I thinking?

I have a long ago friend (I'm talking 20+ years ago, but thanks to Facebook we have found each other) with a blog called "Really what was I thinking?" Her blog is about running her first marathon.  This week a voice in my head has been repeating that line to me over and over.

Ironman?  Really?  What was I thinking?

I love running.  It's simple.  You put on your shoes and you go out the door.  You can run from work.  You can run on vacation.  You can run WITH your children while they sit in the stroller.  You can run in the dark and have your entire day's exercise complete before your family gets up.    Aside from a few pairs of running shoes a year (and in my case, custom orthotics) it's free.  You can run with other people and make some of your best friends while you get in your sweat quota.  I love love love running.

So why do I tri?

Flashback to March 2010.  I was on mile 17 in the Shamrock Marathon when I felt a sharp pain in my left foot.  The rest of the race was excruciating but I hobbled to the finish with my slowest time on record (a personal worst I topped during my next marathon when I was pregnant with Jack.)  My foot swelled up the next day and it hurt to walk, and an x-ray confirmed I had a fractured metetarsel.  The doctor said I could swim right away and bike after a few weeks, but no running for 6 weeks.  So I started swimming, bought a bike so I could get some exercise outside, and then decided I needed a race to focus on.  I figured my foot would be healed enough to run 3 and a half miles in 12 weeks, so I signed up for the DC Triathlon.

Admittedly I have an obsessive personality.  That summer became the obsessed with triathlons summer.   Every time I did a race I'd sign up for a longer distance, and I finished up the summer with the Rev3 Cedar Point Half Iron distance. Then two weeks later I got pregnant with Jack, so I had to put all the tri gear away.  I now owned a tri bike, shoes, pedals, a wet suit, a bike rack.. the list goes on and on.  I had only the bare bones and it still cost a fortune.  So I had to use it again as soon as possible.  I ran and swam most of the pregnancy and two weeks after he was born I was back on the bike.  I did a sprint triathlon 9 weeks after he was born and an Olympic four months from his birth day.  (Don't get too impressed.  I came in second to last in my age group on the Olympic and my sprint time was pretty pathetic as well.)

I put away my bike for the winter and really focused on running and found my life was, well, simpler when all I did was run.  It was easy to get in all my miles before dawn most days of the week and I easily completed an advanced level marathon training program that peaked at 60 miles per week.  I had a great winter training season, but figured I'd be ready to get back on the bike when tri season started up.  And with three races (Olympic, Half, and Ironman) on my schedule I thought I'd be really motivated.

But I'm feeling discouraged for a few reasons.  In order:

- There is just too much freaking stuff to worry about with the bike.  Like if you are 10 miles out and get a flat and you are Gretchen Lynch and therefore unable to change a flat very well even though you've attended multiple workshops and watched the youtube tire changing clip at least 10 times, how will you get home?  Or worse, you are 18 miles out with your father on a deserted country road and his derailluer cracks (thank goodness there were three of us on the ride so someone could go back and get the car...)  Then there is the gear involved.  Every time you get a flat it's $7 for a new tube.  Your chain breaks ($60), your cleats wear thin ($40), etc. etc. etc.  Oh and let's not forget that people like to steal bikes and can pretty much break any lock you can buy.  So I am never comfortable leaving it on the bike rack, meaning I can't ride in the morning after dropping off the kids and then stop at a store before collecting them from daycare.  And of course there are safety issues, mainly the falling over part which I used to do pretty much every ride but I've gotten much better at remembering to take my feet out of the pedals before stopping.

- The bike workouts are so hard to get in without sacrificing family time.  Unlike running and swimming I can't do them at 5 a.m. unless it involves sitting my tush on the bike trainer in the basement. Which I absolutely can't stand.   It is like treadmill hell to the infinite power.  But it may be the only way to get some of these workouts in since I have made myself a "no exercise after 5:30 p.m. for 6 days of the week" rule.  And the long rides... anywhere from 3-6 hours.  I don't think my long runs ever exceeded three and a half hours.  I'm still trying to figure out where I'm going to put the long rides on days when I have other commitments on Saturdays.  Sunday is family day and I will not make it a regular ride time.

-It really really annoys me the amount of money people spend on their bikes and how this makes you faster in the sport.  With running and swimming, it's all about you.  No gear is going to speed you up.  But with the cycle leg of the triathlon -- sure, leg power is a huge factor, but so is the price of your  ride.  My bike is a cheapie in the world of triathlon and it was $1400.  I know people who paid more for their tri bike than I paid for my car.  Then there are all the thing to put on your bike to make it "aerodynamic" AKA faster.  Disc wheels ($2400 a set?  For bike wheels???.)   An aerohelmet ($300.)   Special "aero" water bottles ($99.)   It just doesn't seem right.  I feel like everyone's bike should have to be made out of the same material, and things like disc wheels and aerohelmets shouldn't be allowed. Would I use the disc wheels and aerohelmet if I had unlimited funds?  Sure.  But I still wouldn't think it was fair that I was a little bit faster because I was able to pay for it.

-Finding time to swim with Jamie out of town is a pain in the bum. I love swimming at 5:30 a.m.  It's almost as if that time never existed, like the twighlight zone. I am half alseep when I get there, the workout flies by, and I feel like my day really begins when I get home from the pool and spend quality time with my kids.  These past two weeks it has involved making a childcare appointment and taking a big chunk out of my evening.

There is, however, nothing like the feeling of flying down a hill on a sunny day at 30 miles an hour.  Or swimming in open water.  I don't regret signing up for the Ironman and I know I need to just remain positive.  But in Kate's words, on days like today, my mind won't stop nagging me.  "Really, what was I thinking?"