woke up Saturday AM at 5, immediately heading to the kitchen to prepare my pre-workout breakfast of a sweet potato mixed with Barney Butter. on this particular morning i decided to add in a little raw honey as it adds in a natural anti-inflammatory factor - nothing new on race day so best to try it now right? i didn't like it as much with the honey, it was too sweet but i got it down in the midst of getting things together for the long day ahead. Dana and Ryan opted to do their own ride, leaving from the train station at 740 and heading up to Capistrano to ride back down the coast, adding in an off shoot to get in all the miles CB had prescribed. i wanted to get started riding no later than 730 and the whole train plus off shoot stuff seemed to be too complicated that early in the AM so i decided to do the ride on my own up and down the 101. here's where it gets interesting and the cluster fux ensued...
i wasn't on anyone's schedule but my own meaning i could start at any time i wanted. the sooner the better i decided because i really wanted to make it over to Don's 100mile fundraiser on the Strand afterwards (which so didn't happen - you're about to find out why). so the plan was to ride up the coast 30 miles, turn around and come back (all at race pace), jump off the bike, do a fast 4mile transition run at race pace, refuel and head to Coronado. i ended up not waiting till 730 and got on my way at 7 which only gave me an hour and a half of breakfast digestion time. did i forget that i know myself and my stomach much better than that?! i know that i can't eat less than 3 hours before a hard workout and yet i somehow thought an hour and a half would do?! really?! so off i was and at mile 6 i had to pull off on the side of the road to barf. there i am at 715ish on the side of the 101, trying to strategically hide behind a tree of some sort in order to shield the oncoming traffic and other riders from my two minute barfing spree. fortunately the tree was rather large and i was able to conceal my stomach's transgressions from the traffic but it just so happened that this particular tree had a sign laying just behind it made from metal, covered in leaves. so, although i am grateful to have had the tree for cover, i am horrified to come to the realization as i am bending over to hurl, that the spew will soon come directly back at me in splashes of orange colored debris as it ricochets off the God forsaken sign. this thought comes so quickly and fervently to mind that i momentarily try to rethink my plan but its too late - the barf is already leaving my throat and seconds away from hitting the sign. yep. beautiful. i now had to finish my ride (mind you i'm only at mile 6 of 60) with sweet potato juice splatters up and down my leg and on my shoes. wonderful.
when i finally hit Oceanside, i was amused (that's a total lie - more like frustrated to no end) to find out that the 101 actually runs out at the gates of Pendelton. i had no idea. i also had no idea that there's no way around Pendelton without getting on the 5 (yeah right, on my bike?! please) and what do you know, i didn't bring my ID because well, i never bring my ID. i know, i know - i don't need a lecture here, i'm now fully aware of how stupid that is. so i rode the bay of Oceanside, got my very frustrated self situated and started on the road back to Fletcher Cove. by the way, i was only at 20 miles - i'd have to make up the difference somehow.
by mile 28 i was finally able to choke down some nutrition and actually have it stay soundly in my belly. i had tried a couple times at mile 15 and again at mile 22 to no avail. and let it be said that i hit every single damned stop light from here to Oceanside and back. i maybe got to roll through a total of three green lights. horrible. by the time i hit 35 miles and was back near the car, i was irritated and ready to get off the damn bike. i was irked for being so ill prepared (non-knowledge of the route and lack of ID) and aggravated for going against what i knew my body could and could not do (digestion time or lack there of). at that point i could have turned right back around and gone the easy way back up the coast the exact way i had just come to finish up the mileage, but i wanted to punish myself for the morning's retardedness. Torry Pines? now that's punishment. so off i went with the destroy mentality this particular hill commands after stopping at my car to refill my water bottles. i tackled the climb in near record time and headed down into La Jolla to cover some more ground. when i finally got back to the car's vicinity, i was miffed to see that i was only at 42 some odd miles! oy!!! so up the coast again to where i thought i was going to break even back at the car only to find out i still had 2 more miles to cover until i hit 60!!!! are you freakin kidding me?!?! why in the world am i so damned spatially challenged?! why can i not do math!? the guys at B&L proably thought i was stalking them the way i kept riding back and forth in front of the store. so down the coast i went once again and finally - yes finally - i hit the magic number and was able to get off that damned contraption sitting beneath my very sore and tired crotchal region - only to be reminded that i am signed up for a mother effing Ironman at the end of next year, which is another 50 miles tacked on to that. i still had 4 miles to go of a transition run and i was so not happy. i called and left CB a death threat for talking me into IMCozumel (which he so nicely reminded me that he actually did no such thing, i had fallen into that one face first all on my own account).
i ran and felt like death. hot sticky roadkill death and then i saw a familiar face running towards me - going 100+ miles an hour. what do you know - Beth! she realized it was me and ever so nicely and quickly came back around to see how i was. she had just done a coast ride too except instead of a measly four mile transition run, she was running to Torry Pines and back! are you kidding me?! all of that and she was trucking along at a minimum 730 min per mile pace, i swear. it was amazing to witness. really - she's an animal and is going to tear apart the competition next year. i can't wait to see it. after that very humbling reality check of where i am on the whole triathlete spectrum, i punished myself even more by finishing the run going up a semi large hill to round off the workout.
i was fried literally - i had forgotten to apply sunscreen and physically - i didn't have much left in me. i checked my bike computer for shits and grins to see how pathetically i averaged out with all of the stops, loops and nutrition fiascoes - i was counting on a big fat ugly 14 to stare up at me - but i miraculously pulled off a 17. when all was said and done - bad, but not horrible. not my best but thinking back to my first time trial, by far not my worst. in the end i did not make it to the Strand to do more riding with Don. in the end i found myself sitting at a restaurant with the best gosh darn grilled mahi mahi mango salad i had ever put in my mouth. thank God food makes everything better in my book. hopefully i got out all the kinks and bad jujee that morning and am heading into the race scott-free.
here's hoping :)
i wasn't on anyone's schedule but my own meaning i could start at any time i wanted. the sooner the better i decided because i really wanted to make it over to Don's 100mile fundraiser on the Strand afterwards (which so didn't happen - you're about to find out why). so the plan was to ride up the coast 30 miles, turn around and come back (all at race pace), jump off the bike, do a fast 4mile transition run at race pace, refuel and head to Coronado. i ended up not waiting till 730 and got on my way at 7 which only gave me an hour and a half of breakfast digestion time. did i forget that i know myself and my stomach much better than that?! i know that i can't eat less than 3 hours before a hard workout and yet i somehow thought an hour and a half would do?! really?! so off i was and at mile 6 i had to pull off on the side of the road to barf. there i am at 715ish on the side of the 101, trying to strategically hide behind a tree of some sort in order to shield the oncoming traffic and other riders from my two minute barfing spree. fortunately the tree was rather large and i was able to conceal my stomach's transgressions from the traffic but it just so happened that this particular tree had a sign laying just behind it made from metal, covered in leaves. so, although i am grateful to have had the tree for cover, i am horrified to come to the realization as i am bending over to hurl, that the spew will soon come directly back at me in splashes of orange colored debris as it ricochets off the God forsaken sign. this thought comes so quickly and fervently to mind that i momentarily try to rethink my plan but its too late - the barf is already leaving my throat and seconds away from hitting the sign. yep. beautiful. i now had to finish my ride (mind you i'm only at mile 6 of 60) with sweet potato juice splatters up and down my leg and on my shoes. wonderful.
when i finally hit Oceanside, i was amused (that's a total lie - more like frustrated to no end) to find out that the 101 actually runs out at the gates of Pendelton. i had no idea. i also had no idea that there's no way around Pendelton without getting on the 5 (yeah right, on my bike?! please) and what do you know, i didn't bring my ID because well, i never bring my ID. i know, i know - i don't need a lecture here, i'm now fully aware of how stupid that is. so i rode the bay of Oceanside, got my very frustrated self situated and started on the road back to Fletcher Cove. by the way, i was only at 20 miles - i'd have to make up the difference somehow.
by mile 28 i was finally able to choke down some nutrition and actually have it stay soundly in my belly. i had tried a couple times at mile 15 and again at mile 22 to no avail. and let it be said that i hit every single damned stop light from here to Oceanside and back. i maybe got to roll through a total of three green lights. horrible. by the time i hit 35 miles and was back near the car, i was irritated and ready to get off the damn bike. i was irked for being so ill prepared (non-knowledge of the route and lack of ID) and aggravated for going against what i knew my body could and could not do (digestion time or lack there of). at that point i could have turned right back around and gone the easy way back up the coast the exact way i had just come to finish up the mileage, but i wanted to punish myself for the morning's retardedness. Torry Pines? now that's punishment. so off i went with the destroy mentality this particular hill commands after stopping at my car to refill my water bottles. i tackled the climb in near record time and headed down into La Jolla to cover some more ground. when i finally got back to the car's vicinity, i was miffed to see that i was only at 42 some odd miles! oy!!! so up the coast again to where i thought i was going to break even back at the car only to find out i still had 2 more miles to cover until i hit 60!!!! are you freakin kidding me?!?! why in the world am i so damned spatially challenged?! why can i not do math!? the guys at B&L proably thought i was stalking them the way i kept riding back and forth in front of the store. so down the coast i went once again and finally - yes finally - i hit the magic number and was able to get off that damned contraption sitting beneath my very sore and tired crotchal region - only to be reminded that i am signed up for a mother effing Ironman at the end of next year, which is another 50 miles tacked on to that. i still had 4 miles to go of a transition run and i was so not happy. i called and left CB a death threat for talking me into IMCozumel (which he so nicely reminded me that he actually did no such thing, i had fallen into that one face first all on my own account).i ran and felt like death. hot sticky roadkill death and then i saw a familiar face running towards me - going 100+ miles an hour. what do you know - Beth! she realized it was me and ever so nicely and quickly came back around to see how i was. she had just done a coast ride too except instead of a measly four mile transition run, she was running to Torry Pines and back! are you kidding me?! all of that and she was trucking along at a minimum 730 min per mile pace, i swear. it was amazing to witness. really - she's an animal and is going to tear apart the competition next year. i can't wait to see it. after that very humbling reality check of where i am on the whole triathlete spectrum, i punished myself even more by finishing the run going up a semi large hill to round off the workout.
i was fried literally - i had forgotten to apply sunscreen and physically - i didn't have much left in me. i checked my bike computer for shits and grins to see how pathetically i averaged out with all of the stops, loops and nutrition fiascoes - i was counting on a big fat ugly 14 to stare up at me - but i miraculously pulled off a 17. when all was said and done - bad, but not horrible. not my best but thinking back to my first time trial, by far not my worst. in the end i did not make it to the Strand to do more riding with Don. in the end i found myself sitting at a restaurant with the best gosh darn grilled mahi mahi mango salad i had ever put in my mouth. thank God food makes everything better in my book. hopefully i got out all the kinks and bad jujee that morning and am heading into the race scott-free.
here's hoping :)
7 comments:
Good workout. Glad you got all that foolishness out of the way during training and not during a race.
And OMFG, you have 420+ days to Cozumel, you have time to build, so chillax woman.
Momma said there'd be days like that.
You got it all in.
Make the next ones better.
I'm sorry to hear you had such a bad ride! Don't worry though--everyone has their bad days! You've got plenty of time til IM. You'll do great!
we live and we learn and now you know that route like nobody's business and you'll probably start riding with your id so it turns out good does come from off days :0)
LOVE YOU!
Sorry it was such a horrible day...but tough days remind us come to mind during races when having a bad time. I hope you got all the bad juju out...but if you are ever in a tight bind in a race you know you can pull through with flying colors. WE all learn more from mistakes than successes sometimes. Take your learning and push forward...you did great.
and you thought the train would be more complicated?
Man, with a stomach like that I might get into archery instead of triathlon. I think it makes you tough if you can puke 3 times in a 3 hour ride!
Finding routs to train for 112 mile ride is just as hard as riding the damned distance itself! Sheesh, I feel your pain. Hope you find some good routs over the next year so you don't have to ride 2,000 laps around your block.
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