July 28 Triathlon, I Will Rock You (or At Least Show Up)

The past few tri seasons just have not been ideal:

2010: Recovering from pneumonia is not a good way to enter a training season. But, I still managed to finish Chicago Triathlon. Despite, the chest cold, asthma attack, and 20-min. stint in the medical tent, I had a better time than healthy people in my wave -- and still came in 17 of 219 for swimming in my age group. 

2011: Thanks to the wedding and my dad's health, there wasn't a lot of time to train. Yet I had my best tri ever at Pleasant Prairie, coming in with a PR on a beautiful day. I needed it. That said, I couldn't get in a second race -- just too busy, and not willing to risk skidding off my bike 1.5 weeks before my wedding.

2012: I can't say that my April ankle sprain completely derailed my training because I was able to spin (mostly), but it did sideline me from running for 2 months. OH, and breaking my arm Memorial Day weekend did not help matters either.

Now that I am just getting back to running, swimming, and cycling (I think -- I was just about to get back on the trail...) I have a head cold. The South Shore Tri is two weeks away. I'll be there, but I just keep thinking: it's not as bad as I came into the race in 2010.

If I've proven anything, it's that I'll still show up. I'll get you, triathlon, just you wait.

The 'Hot Racing Mess' Who Finished

I present to you my divisional results (Women 30-34)  for the individual legs of the sprint distance Chicago Triathlon, which took place along the lakefront yesterday. Can you guess when I had the asthma attack?

Swim (1/2 mile): 17th of 219

Bike (13.7 miles): 22nd of 219

Run (3.1 miles): 215 of 219

I guess it was a sign I wasn't in tip-top shape when, right before we started the race, a spectator heard me coughing and joked to me that I should have laid off the cigarettes the morning of the race. 

As soon as I got in the water, I could tell I couldn't inhale to full lung capacity. That said, it's really easy for me to control my breathing in swimming, so I just plowed ahead and got on a roll! The water was 72 degrees, and I had fresh arms. It felt like last year: a perfect swim. 

I passed nearly everyone in my wave and started to take on the next; by 14 minutes, 33 seconds, I was out of the water (if you look up my time, it includes the 2? 3? block run to transition area, during which I saw a few people sprint past me -- still came in 17th though). 

After transition, I hopped on my bike and dealt with the same southwest headwind both directions --a pain in the ass on any day. A quarter of the way I could tell my lack of lung strength was starting to take a toll. I was also shivering, despite guzzling water all morning and an already-warm air temperature. 

The last half of the bike race I didn't feel like I was "racing" anymore, just getting through it -- and not because of muscle fatigue, which is typical: just my lungs and that shivering thing. I began to think of quitting, which felt like a brilliant idea -- until I imagined having to tell people I quit the race. Do I listen to my body? Or am I being too sensitive and not strong enough mentally? Will I get pneumonia again if I keep stressing my lungs?

By the time I got off the bike, I felt dizzy and sauntered to my transition spot to get my run gear on, coaching myself on breathing in through my nose and out through my mouth. Three minutes and something-seconds later (a long-ass transition time) I slowly walked to the start line of the run portion, feeling dazed. At this point, I was 98 percent of the way to giving up.

A woman saw me walking (still on the course), stepped in front of me and said, agitated, "Did you finish the race?" The look I gave her answered her question. By the time I saw Brian, maybe about a city block-length, I was taking off my race number.

The first thing I said to him was, "I don't feel good. I don't want to get pneumonia again." Then I started crying. And then I felt like a loser. 

Brian told me I could quit and he wanted me to be healthy, and getting that confirmation made me not want to quit. So, I put on a long-sleeve T-shirt he'd brought along to warm up and began walking the 3.1 miles.

Thing is, Brian wouldn't let me do it alone. He spent the next 3 miles at my side, walking or trotting with me with a backpack on, which isn't easy. He later told me it wasn't just for support but to make sure nothing happened to me, which was good, because the next 47 minutes featured me gasping for air, stopping, breathing in through my nose deeply and out through my mouth, coughing, then trying to run/trot once my breath was regulated, only to have to walk again -- a hot racing mess.

I didn't mention Brian has been fighting a cold too. What a guy... 

I picked up the pace toward the end when I saw the finish and actually had to stop short of the finish line to try to breathe. I crossed the finish line, went into full-blown attack mode, heard my dad call my name, waved to him, then was ushered by triathlon medical staff into the medic tent, where an awesome and very nice crew gave me an Albuterol treatment and oxygen.

I had an easy time -- someone finished the race and began having seizures. You can see the medic team that worked on me working on that person here.

I summarized the race in a Facebook update and got kudos from several friends, one even calling me inspirational. It's really touching, but honestly, I call it stupid more than anything. I'm glad I started the race, even if I wasn't in the greatest shape; I tried. But once the asthma kicked in full-force, I shouldn't have continued. It's not healthy! And if I grew worse, the chaos on the course could have messed up other people, too, or taken resources away from more serious cases. 

In case you're wondering, I didn't bring my inhaler because I didn't even think of it. I use inhalers temporarily when I'm fighting something like bronchitis or pneumonia, and although I should have taken one with me, just in case, I didn't even put two and two together that a chest cold from last week could trigger an asthma attack during a race. Again, stupid.

It's a race I'd rather forget; I finished almost a half hour after I normally do. Brian says he's more proud of me for finishing this race than any other. I'm trying hard to forget the time, even if I still managed to finish ahead of a lot of people who were perfectly healthy. 

There's always next year. :) 

A special shout out to:
* The medic team. So sharp and on the lookout, I have been taking their standby assistance for granted each race.
* Brian. Duh. Not only did he do a 5K with me spur-of-the-moment, but I thanked him by leaving in the medic tent his Oakley sunglasses he lent me. Sheesh. Yes, I probably could have crossed the finish line without him, but I would not have been as strong. He's there for every race I do.
* My parents, who not only came out to the race but had to watch their daughter gasping for air and disappear with doctors. They also waiting a long time while we collected my gear to drive me home.
* The random people who saw me struggling and called out my race number, cheering for me to "stay strong," "keep it up" and "walk through it." Admittedly, I was annoyed when, while coughing and heaving, some of 'em yelled, "You're lookin' good!" but that's my problem: they were trying to be nice and pry didn't even realize the irony of the cheer they chose to yell.  


And to the fellow racer who looked at me and Brian as she passed and said, VERY snarkily, as we walked, "You know you're in the middle of a triathlon, right?": 

I finished, bitch.

Race Day's Around the Corner ...

It's another gorgeous day and another opportunity to work out, but I'm holding back. I haven't worked out in a week because I've been sick. Now, I'm just about well, but considering I have the Chicago Triathlon Sunday, I can't afford a relapse and am trying to play it safe.

You generally taper yourself before a race, shortening your workouts' duration and intensity closer to the event. I'm dying to get a little something in -- I want to move! And it's stunning outside! -- but if I go harder than I should, I don't have enough time to recover before the big day.

At this point, my race -- .5 mile swim, 14 mile bike and 3.1 mile run -- will be my first workout in a week and a half. We'll see how this goes!

Perk: Two of my longest-time friends and recent triathlete converts will be racing too. I gotta show up!

Triathlons: Not Just Because I Want the Finisher's Medal

(No time to fix formatting ... but you can still read text below).


I'm signed up for this year's Chicago Triathlon and tomorrow's Bangs Lake Aquabike, and given this training season has gone to shit thanks to pneumonia, a crazy work schedule and yes (by my choosing), a jaunt to Europe, it's been hard to talk myself into showing up to the starting line for either.


This week's Chicago Triathlon e-newsletter update though forced me to spell out my answer. Event organizers asked for triathletes' special reasons for doing the race. Here's what I sent in:


It's easy to say I do them because they're fun or that I hold a special place in my heart for the post-race food tent (who doesn't love PB&J on white bread?). 

But what keeps me signing up and gets me to the start line -- especially during a year like this one, when I'm less than prepared -- is the thought of not having the ability to do one. 

My mom's disabled, and she couldn't do one if she wanted. There are people who don't have the money to sink into the registration or the gear, and they couldn't do one. 

I figure as long as I have the means and the basic health, I should make the most of it. After all, one day I might not have the ability, and how would I feel knowing I didn't take advantage of the opportunity when I could? 

So, contrary to the reasons I thought I was going to tough it out -- the feeling you get from crossing the finish line, knowing that I at least tried, not wasting the $$$ registration fee, the free swag, the finisher's medal (true to my Gen Y generation!) -- triathlons do have a deeper meaning for me. 

***

As for tomorrow's race, I'm going. The temperature will be in the low 90s (even in the morning), and I haven't been cycling with the necessary intensity to put in a good fight. But, this same race last year was my toughest yet most successful ever (I came in 15th of 60 overall) despite equally high temps, wind and hills I didn't expect. 

I figure if I don't finish I'll know I tried -- and hopefully, they'll let me have a PB&J sandwich too.

The blog diet begins

 I want to be doing what he's doing!

Well, folks, it's time for a break. I'm going to give this blog a formal rest and come back to it later, kinda like what I do to a story when I have writer's block, although that's not an entirely accurate comparison. I know what I want to say; it's just when to say that gets me.

My story -- my life -- is actually quite busy, but I can't stand knowing that the few friends who check this blog know I don't update it. And that stresses me out (even if I know it makes no difference to them). Good thing I don't promote it and thus worry about SEO, tracking stats, etc., as I do with my professional work -- then I'd really have an audience to worry about leaving.

I have plenty to say, and I constantly think about how I want to say it! I still want to tell you about our L20 experience, and share my thoughts about New York, and update you on all the great food we had on vacation in Virgin Gorda.

I have yet to share with you my Health Action Plan of 2010, and fill you in on my still-unsuccessful triathlon training thanks to my still bothersome health, and describe my frustrations with going to work full-time while taking a class that actually requires reading, writing and homework (Marketing 201) while dealing with all of the above.

Yeah, and then there's the job search. I haven't told you about that yet.  That keeps me busy, too.

And the photos! I have tons of photos of new recipes and great meals to post -- all taken with a new camera. I haven't gotten around to that yet, have I?

Work. Class. Triathlon. Health. Job search. Relationships.

So I'm going to take this off my plate -- for now. You know how I love full plates; I always have to share. That time will come again soon, but until then, the blog diet begins. 

Keep me posted on you! And talk soon.

I feel better already.

MISSING: IMMUNE SYSTEM; REWARD IF FOUND

MISSING: IMMUNE SYSTEM
 29YO, F, HEALTHY EATER, TRIATHLETE
MISSING IMMUNE SYSTEM SINCE JAN. 1, 2010.
RESPONDS TO "DAILY VITAMIN," "ECHINACEA GOLDENSEAL" AND "FRUITS AND VEGETABLES"
IF FOUND, PLEASE CONTACT AUTHOR OF THIS POST.
***REWARD***

I'm sending a plea to my missing immune system to come back or be found. Since coming down with pneumonia, I've been wooing it with tons of fruits and vegetables and rest. Alas, I find myself sick with a sinus infection again. Where did my immune system go? When will it return? And what is this delicate line between pushing yourself and overdoing it?

As I train during race season I face that quandry all the time. Striking the balance between going hard -- either in duration, intensity or schedule-wis --and consequently getting a little sore or tired and going hard and getting injured or worn down to the point of being unhealthy constantly plague me. I generally can avoid the latter. Apparently not any more.

My definition of "going hard" has changed. I last wrote about how great it was to do yoga/pilates/core work for an hour in the mornings, and then last week I resumed swimming followed by core work at the gym. That was fine, until an overnight trip to New York. On day two, I hit a wall and felt really exhausted, despite getting a full night's sleep. And then I sat on a delayed plane for a couple hours and inhaled airplane air.

Whatever the cause -- not being able to handle New York's fast paced with still-recovering lungs or sitting on that plane -- I'm sick now. I hate this.

We have a dream vacatin planned less than a week away, and I want to be healthy by then, dammit. I have five days to feel better.

I'm considering wearing a mask during the flight. Sounds crazy, but apparently I can't risk it. This sucks!

Back in the saddle (sort of)

Progress has been made! Not only did I survive the first week back at work post-pneumonia, but my muscles feel like they need a workout, which makes me smile because that's how I feel when I'm healthy; with this whole February sickness, going through the motions of a normal day was tiring enough. Quite the contrasts for a crazy woman who's used to 5 a.m. swims, bikes and runs.

I'm going to start with doing yoga, pilates and core work for a little bit at home and build up from there. I'd love to be back in the pool in a week, but we'll see how it goes.

Another indicator I'm getting better: I think I'm back to needing a workout in my daily routine to sleep well.

Feeling like me is a good thing. 

Spin Class Ass Kicking No. 2

Apparently, I'm not in the shape I was, nor was I taking as difficult a spin class as I thought at the Y. I went to spin this morning -- this class didn't have the hard-core instructor! -- and was once again barely able to keep up. Again.

But I'm good at hills! And I place in the top 10 percent for the bike on every race. Wtf?

I can only blame my bike and getting used to the gear settings so much; this is just a different breed of spinners at my new gym.


Good thing it's better to train with the best!

****

Speaking of spin, I'm not that thrilled with the morning instructor. She just jumped into class without stating a plan, e.g. "Today we're going to work on our endurance" or what have you, and she did a lot of jumps, where you stand out of your seat and sit down on counts of 4 to 8, usually -- or in her case, one-second counts. Jumps are dumb. They don't mimic outdoor cycling and hurt your knees.

I guess I should be thankful I have the 5:45 a.m. spin class and that it gets my heart rate up. Woot.

Goodbye to My Gym

This morning I said goodbye to the Y, finally making the plunge to work out at Brian's gym full-time. It's bittersweet, for all the reasons I've written. But I'm mentally there, which was a big step.

I've had my new membership card since the beginning of November and immediately began swimming in my new pool, which is 1,000 times better than the Y's. A 25 meter pool that is constantly open for lap swim made it an easy transition. But I couldn't give up spin class until today, even though the Monday instructor's workouts haven't been doing it for me for a while, and even though my new gym features more classes. The bikes are nicer at my old gym. And more importantly, I like the people.

Oddly, top of mind is Lila (name's changed), a mentally challenged and bi-polar woman who comes every single morning and I think in the evening, too. She has a habit for blurting out really disturbing parts of her past in the middle of a conversation, and she sometimes calls you out on things -- she finds them at 5:30 in the morning, believe it or not -- that no other person would bring up. But she's a positive force and always means well. I made a point not to let her know I was leaving until the very second, afraid she'd tell people -- and with the wrong facts -- before I could. She found out in class, and as I left she told me she'd miss me, and I actually reciprocated the sentiment genuinely.

We also have Elaine, a Jewish woman with a lot of spunk and energy. She's a workout diva, and even though we're not in the same circle, per se, she was always excited to include me on invitations to her jewelry parties and whatnot. She wanted to swap emails b/c she said I'm motivating her to do the Chicago Triathlon. She's 10 times more in shape than I am, but apparently she likes the push. I'm happy to help.

I'll really miss Diana. I'm not the only one stupid enough to travel to the Y at 5 a.m. in the middle of an ice storm; Diana does the same thing. She has a genuinely calming and nice presence that unites everyones.

I made sure to say goodbye to Carol, a woman who used is ALWAYS smiling, last Friday, when I started telling my Y friends I'd be leaving. She once referred to me as the perfect little sister she never had. Hah! If only she were around me all the time. Carol used to come twice a week, but now is lucky to make it to one morning class -- and not the one I take. If I had continued to see her regularly, there's a good chance I would still be at the Y.

I can't forget Bert, or Stan, or Amy, or Stacey, who swiped our cards in the morning and had mine memorized. Or Megan, the instructor with great interveral workouts and whose music taste matched my perfectly. The last class of hers I went to she even played nearly an entire class of songs I had swapped with her. Ironic -- it made it hard to leave!

In fact, it's the people above, and the other people whose names I never learned, that I loved seeing every morning for two-and-a-half years. If any of us were gone for a week, we'd inquire about what was new.

I didn't mention KC yet, and on purpose. KC is 75-year-old woman who's at the pool every morning. But don't get an image of an elderly lady in your head. KC was a weight-lifting instructor and swim teacher with no body fat. She rides her bike to the Y every morning except in the snow -- possibly the rain, if it's light enough -- from Devon to School. She teaches at multiple gyms, too, and knows everything and everyone. She's a striking woman -- silver hair that would make any gray-haired person envious and very high cheekbones -- with a history of raising kids, living all across the U.S. (including Alaska), and sports. Lots of sports. In her 40s she took up figure competitions b/c she was bored. She'd been on basketball teams and was an official Red Cross lifeguard for years, too. There's more to her that I don't even know.

Don't get me wrong, she wasn't perfect. Sometimes KC got annoying. She was very entitled to her opinion and occassionally would spout off on the way my generation is handling things. Sometimes she wouldn't shut up, and all I wanted to do was *not* talk. But you couldn't help but appreciate her. She'd offer me personal training tips (did I mention she's a personal trainer, too?) when I was injured and she could tell I was still trying to work out,  and she always had a story to tell to back up her argument.  Pointless chatter is not in KC's repetoire.

The day after my boss was fired, I went to work out despite not having any sleep and feeling sick. After swimming a mere three laps, I left the pool. That morning she had tried to be chatty and talk, and I gave her a really dirty just-leave-me-alone look while I answered whatever her question or comment of the day was. I was so busy feeling sorry for myself I didn't even feel bad for being rude.

The next couple weeks I was barely around the gym -- I was sick, had a business trip and also started swimming at my new gym -- so I didn't see KC for a while.  When she did finally see mer, she took a good look and asked, "Sara, how are you. The day you got out of the pool, I knew something was wrong. I said, Sara never gets out of the pool. I've been so worried about you."

I felt horrible and thankful for her at the same time. I filled her in, and she was understanding and glad to hear things were going better. She related about life -- as she always does -- and said I was justified in everything I felt. This is all in a quick conversation at 5:20 a.m.

She's representative of the people at the Y. If someone fell out of habit, we'd check in. We care about each other's well-being and like having each other around.

Elaine asked me if I were going to do the Tour de Farms with the Y team this year -- I really wanted to last spring but had my cousin's wedding to go to -- and provided I'm allowed to join their team, I just might do it. It would be great to see the people I'd come to know as my Y family. Lord knows my new gym won't have that same community, but we shall see.

Gait Analysis with Bill Leach: Visit 1

Yesterday afternoon I had my first appointment with running coach Bill Leach for my gait analysis, and I'm eager to find out the results.

When you go see Coach Leach, he videotapes your running on a treadmill from the side; your running directly from and to the camera; your running to and from the camera at an angle; and all sorts of posture positions, which can include standing normally with your shoes off and balancing on one leg while touching the other foot with your opposite hand. All on video. I wobbled a little on the balancing stuff, and I'm bummed about it because I have better core strength than that -- and core strength is what he preaches. Oh well, we shall see what his detailed report says. (He actually hands you a small binder.)

Couple things:

1) To best view your body as it runs, he needs you to wear contrasting colored tops and bottoms, and they have to be situated on your body so he can see your hips. That means I had to tuck a loose -- not baggy, but loose enough -- shirt into stretch running pants. It all looks atrocious, because a) the baggy shirt bulges from underneath the stretch pants, and b) I have a very high waist. Nice visual, huh? And it's all on camera! Thankfully, only he and I see the video.

2) We watched the video, and the initial assessment of my running is that my foot strikes far in front of my body, which is bad. I was expecting that, b/c it seems that most runners have this problem. The other thing is my feet somewhat cross over each other when I'm running. I'd never have known without that video!

We'll see how he treats the latter. As for the former, I already have homework of exercises to do to get my body comfortable with my feet landing further back.

More homework. I'm balancing so much right now -- freelance projects, ad class homework, working out, another side project, quality time with my man, and more -- that the last thing I wanted was more homework. But here we are. And I'll get it done.

My next appt. is Tuesday. To be continued!

Tuesday Night Review ... Time for A Running Coach?

Note: As I'm writing this, I'm eating Zataraine's jambalaya mix. Do I like it? Eh, not so much. The red beans and rice package is good though ...

Here's an update: for Tuesday (Wednesday) night, Brian and I went to a long-standing "English" pub, The Grafton, not to be confused with an Irish pub (no gaelic, less green, etc.). I give it 2 of 5 Zs.

Ouch! I know, I know. Why the low rating? The food really wasn't that good. My burger was blah, and the cole slaw proved that it is possible to have a dish that uses mayonaise and tastes just as bland as ... cold, chopped cabbage. Brian's cajun chicken sandwich seemed to comprise schnitzel-esque chicken (pounded meat). My mashed potatoes were good, but it's pretty hard to screw up mashed potatoes.

Here's where The Grafton wins: The atmosphere. The staff. Both are charming. If I were judging it by a pint and a good time, it'd be 4 of 5 Zs. But if you go there hungry, you might be taking your chances (after all, my experience was one night, right?).

Ideas for next Tuesday (Wednesday): The Fantastic Crepe (so new I couldn't find a Web site) or a Korean place.  Stay tuned.

***

So this running thing, yeah ... I've gotta get into a rhythm, and I'm scared. I'm scared of making my knees worse, and I'm scared of being in pain from the more frequent runs and then having my other workouts suffer. But I don't want to say "I can't," and I do want to continue to build strength and push myself.

That's why Brian is pushing for me to see Bill Leach, a well-known running coach (at least on the Northside) in Chicago who analyzes gait  along with training runners. I'm interested in finding out if how I run is the correct way. Believe it or not, you really can have a messed up stride or technique, and that can aggravate current problems or trigger new ones. Brian, for example, has completed several 1/2 Ironmans and a ton of Olympic distance triathlons to find, after nine months off a lot of pain once he resumed his workouts, that all these years he's been compensating for poor running technique and thus has more knee and leg pain than he should.

I'm also considering returning to PT, but I want to see "Coach Leach" first. I've actually watched him work with people while I took PT at Accelarated in Lincoln Park. He was focused and definitely coach-like. But that's what I need.

Yeah, I'm in pain. It's not a lot and definitelly something I can deal with, but I don't want it to escalate and genuinely want to understand how my body performs -- and what I can do to help it. Some people are natural athletes and can crank out ultramarathons (please excuse the Wikipedia reference there) without woes. I am not one of those people. But that doesn't mean I'll sit on the sidelines.

My New Favorite Stroke

Hear ye, hear ye: I have a new favorite stroke. For the past four swims I've incorporated about 10 min. of backstroke, and it's fun and also very efficient. I'm good at it, too (unlike writing ads, but that's a different blog).

The best part is my heart rate stays up. I was hesitate to do backstroke because the people I generally see doing it are lazying around. They're usually overweight and not committed to their workout at the time I'm watching them. That's fine, but the image doesn't make me want to jump into it. I've also been afraid -- for the past two years -- to not do freestyle, which is what 99 percent or so of triathletes do in the water. Why wouldn't I try to perfect it?

I've had it all wrong. I did learn proper backstroke technique in college but only jumped back into it when I read a sentence in a swim column in Triathlete magazine: Doing the backstroke makes you stand taller, and you develop leaner muscles. Here's to the power of the written word, because that image of a tall, thin swimmer stuck with me. (Note how much images influence me? Or is it ignorance?) The article dove into detail (no pun intended) about  all the benefits. I was convinced. And I appreciate the variety to my workout, too.

That's actually what the off-season is about: variety. Trying new things without the pressure of going hard each time. Going slow so you can focus on technique. What will next week bring?

My Gym, My Community: Time for a Change?

I spent my flight home from Baltimore (great trip, btw!) catching up on all the articles I clipped from Brian's Triathlete magazine reference library we recently pitched (correction: I made him pitch). As you can see in the photo on the left, we had a few set aside as permanent reading material in the master bathroom. They dated back to 2005, which makes me laugh but really did allow me to go have my choice of articles to save to read now that I'm a more serious triathlete.

Note the words "more serious," as in "more serious than I was before." Newbies and sprint distance triathletes can definitely take away a lot of good information from the magazine on everything from sample workouts to exercise physiology. But make no mistake that the core audience is die-hard triathletes, many who do 70.3s and Ironmans.

A normal sentence in Triathlete might read, "After your morning workout, make sure to eat plenty of protein to help your body recover. That way, by the time you get to your evening set, you'll still have energy left to burn." Another favorite sentiment: "After an intense hour and a half of working out, it's good to stretch before jumping into your final run."

Hah! 1) I only have one formal workout a day, thank you very much, and 2) Who has enough time to spend hours at the gym? I'm there for 1 hr. 15 min. during the week (all my sched and gym's opening time allows) and about 2 hours when I can be on the weekends. I could go longer on the weekends but usually am happy with that amount and have stuff to do!

So I glean what I can from the magazine, and it is a good one. I got through about 10 articles on my flight home, and I walked off the plane pumped to take my training to the next level. I really hate keeping tabs on sets, so "stepping it up" for me, Sara, who has a life and doesn't want triathlon to eat up all my free time, would be to increase the time I spend at the gym. And that would mean switching gyms.

Horrors! I heart my gym. I know the people there, and they know me. By name. Sometimes we smile and nod. Sometimes we chat about an exercise class, or an injury, or a race. Regardless, they're all nice people, and it's my third community (work and friends/family being the other two). I've built up a relationship over the three years with it and the thought of letting it go troubles me. And not just b/c of the people, but the facilities. The building's old -- the locker rooms are spotless but have permanent dirt marks that don't impress -- but exercise equipment is new. The spin bikes are nicer than most gyms'. The core workout equipment is awesome. And the vibe is down-to-earth; we do not have a problem with cell phones or people who wear makeup to workout. 

If you belong to my gym, you're nice, you appreciate diversity and you're there to workout. The sense of community is a major bonus.

But the truth is, it's holding me back on my training, and every time I get a surge of energy from a Triathlete article, I struggle to fit the tips into my routine: Because of the limited lap swim time in the pool, I can't swim whenever I want. Because it only opens at 5:30 a.m., I can't tack on an extra 20 min. to add something new -- I do have to make it to work on time, after all. My evening availability is limited and doesn't allow me to commit to a workout routine, so I pretty much have to keep it to mornings.

The other gym I'm considering -- Brian's gym -- is more expensive. The people tend to be a snottier. It's all well-off white people and a ton of kids. And while there def. are some nice people there, the overall vibe isn't one I like. It would however accommodate my schedule, including swim and cycle flexibilities. That's huge when you're trying to excel at three sports while incorporating others.

Is it time to give up my gym? Brian's told me to give him the word to tack me on to his plan. It's up to me to make the call.

Another Season Down, Almost Injury-Free

I found out today that I have ulnar neuritis. The name sounds a lot worse than it is, but basically the nerve that runs on the outside of my arm from my elbow to wrist has been aggravated, and I need to rest it. It's a common sport injury from tennis, cycling and swimming. I do two of the three.

The good news is that it isn't painful, per se, but it does make the top of my wrist, fingers and forearm tingle and ache. When you're a writer like me or finishing up a triathlon season, like I was when the problem started, it's hard to rest it.

The timing is good, b/c I go easy in September, but it's bad b/c I'd really like to be able to get outside more for fun rather than just quit altogether. I don't have to go cold turkey, but if I want to jump back into a routine in October, I need to lay off. I need exercise to keep me happy, so this'll be a challenge.

Most athletes get injuries of some sort much worse than mine, and I'm amazed that they're able to push as hard as they do until something does pop up. I don't consider myself a die-hard athelete. I do work out regularly and push myself, but I'm not going hard-core distances. I'm above the casual athelete but not much more serious.

I feel like as soon as I get into something and push myself, my body reminds me that it's just not cut out for going hard. When I got into running faster and farther -- up to 5 miles regularly -- that's when my knees freaked out. Even physical therapy and strengthening my muscles didn't cure me enough. I basically can run 3 miles with minimal pain.

When I cycle, I'm cardiovascularly able to go farther than I do. But then my knees kick in and remind it's time to take it easy.

If I swim too much, no matter how much or what variety of stretching I do, I start to get muscle damage.

So I feel stuck in this range, with improvement in going harder but for shorter periods, or going longer but not as hard. Can't do both. I'd love to be able to train for an Olympic Distance triathlon, but considering the small increments I'm able to push myself, it seems like it would be more painful than fun. And it's always supposed to be fun, right?

But I'll try! I'll keep at it. And in the meantime, I'll rest up. Gotta listen to my body to stay injury-free.

Time for a Run

It's been four days since I finished my last triathlon of the season, and I need exercise.

I vowed I'd take a break.

I promised to let my body heal.

I'm going for a run.