This summer I’ve had a new (to me) problem in training.  Cramps.  Mostly in my calves.  They are pretty much constantly on the verge of charlie horsing…and Tuesday’s longish ride was no exception.  A big part of this is my crappy job keeping up with electrolyte replacement.  A big part of this is also that it was one-million degrees and I sweat like a pig (sidenote: a co-worker’s husband saw me running on the treadmill last Sunday and remarked to my coworker that I sweat an abnormal amount.  lovely).

Anyway, the whole time I was riding and hot and sweaty and cramping, I fantasized about bananas.  Wonderful potassium to heal my ailing calves.

By the time I got home, I was drooling thinking about the creation I was about to make for dinner.  And that creation was Bananas Foster Cottage Cheese Pancakes.

Ingredients:

• 3 bananas
• 2 tbsp butter
• 1 cup brown sugar
• 3 tsp cinnamon
• 2 tsp vanilla
• 1 cup unbleached flour
• 1/2 teaspoon baking soda
• 1/4 teaspoon salt
• 2 tablespoons sugar
• 4 eggs
• 1 cup cottage cheese
• 1/2 cup milk
• 2 tablespoons canola oil
• Canola oil cooking spray

1. Combine cottage cheese, eggs, milk, oil and stir until combined

2. Mix in dry ingredients (minus the brown sugar and cinnamon) and two sliced bananas

3. Plop some of the batter on the griddle.

4. When little bubbles begin to appear on top, flip pancake and allow to cook through.

4. In a saucepan, melt butter.

6. Add cinnamon and brown sugar

7.  Allow the sugar and cinnamon to dissolve, and add the last sliced banana, vanilla, and a cup of water.  Cook until a syruppy consistency has been reached.

8. Top pancake with syrup.

9. Eat.

10. Lick plate.

I thought last week would bring some regularity to my blogging since it was a recovery week.  Turns out, I just used the extra freed-up time to do super exciting things like stay at the office late, mow my lawn, and nap.

So to recap, the past few weeks have been a lot of me looking like this:

And a lot of my bubby looking like this:

Recovery weeks are good in theory.  My legs were trashed, they needed a break.  My life needed tending to, too.  And, well, the bubby was pretty neglected.  So, again, in theory, all good. But, it was also a nightmarish forrecasting of what is to come post Ironman.

And, sadly, I knew this would happen.  I really did.

It’s happened many times before.  When I was a sprinter in high school, our 5 mile runs were my “oh my gosh i can’t believe I ran that long, I’m such a rockstar” long runs.  And then in college, I graduated to two-a-days and 8 to 10 mile long runs.  And then I ran my first marathon, and everything under a marathon seemed like cake.  Like no big deal.

And last week, I had about 8 hours of training to do.  And I was bored.  I mean not bored, really, because I have plenty of things that I love to spend my time doing.  But I was antsy.  I felt weird going for a three or four mile run and being done for the day.  I hadn’t worked myself out to the point of exhaustion and I felt…dare I say…lazy.

Yep.  8 hours of swimming, biking, and running, and I felt lazy.

How fucked up is that?

Pretty fucked up.  I get that.  I do.  Cognitively.  Unfortunately, I still feel that way, even if my cognition says “Pen, you are a crazy person.”  I can only imagine what it is going to be like after September 12.

I worry–and I know many of those close to me do too–that this insane level of working out that I’ve been doing this summer is going to become the norm.  Because, well, it is the norm for me now.  And anything less seems silly.  Like I will be out of shape if I just do half-ironmen next summer.

Even sillier? I don’t feel like I’m in that good of shape.  Yes, I am training my butt off (figuratively.  unfortch, not literally).  Yes, I know that I’m in better shape than 90% of the US.  But it doesn’t feel that way.  I don’t feel fast.  I don’t feel strong.  I just feel normal.  I feel like normal Penny.

I struggle to find someone to talk about this with because most people just dismiss it.  They say I’m being silly or they think I’m fishing for compliments.  And I SWEAR, I’m NOT.  I genuinely, sitting here on my couch, feel like I’m not in good shape.  I’m in normal shape.  I’m “in shape” as a normal person.  Not iron-person shape.  Hell, not even the great shape I felt I was in after the Chicago Marathon last year.

I guess the point is, I expect there will be a great deal of internal struggle post Ironman.  And also, I’m crazy.

Anyone else ever had problems with perspective?

Um.  Shit?

So today, this afternoon, I’m all happy.  Not quite sure why, because I’ve been moping around a lot lately.  Mad at the world.  Mad at my body.  Really f-ing mad at Al Gore for making all this global warming shiz up…and then warming up the globe to prove his point.*

But, today I’m all happy.  I’m even happy as I’m sitting in the courtroom doing jail clearing with the slowest (seriously, SLOWEST) judge ever.  I’m even happy (now this is shocking) as I’m sitting over at the prosecution table sorting out my client’s 18 count accusation with the prosecutor. (Yes, folks, 18 counts. Ten + Eight counts.  It’s like the Duggar family of accusations.  On another note…they would be willing to have a 20th baby?  Wtf.).

Anyway, back to me being happy.  Sitting at the prosecutor’s table.  And then this loud frbbbbbbh sound starts happening.  Hmm?  Frbbbbbh. What’s that?  Frbbbbbbh. I look over and my cell phone is vibrating on the defense table.  Oopsies. Good thing this flipping slow judge is also particularly hard of hearing.

I scurry over and take a look at my caller ID.  It’s one of my favsies, Mags.  My fabulous Mags, who lives in Wisconsin and is going to be there for all my IM glory.  Which is awesome, btw because Mags is this AMAZING runner.  Actually beyond amazing.  I’m hoping some of her amazingness rubs off on me.

Anywho, after court is over, I call Mags back.  And we chat.  And then she says, “Oh I was calling you because the Ironmanis one month from today!  Yay!”

Yay?  Shit.

I have a lot of work to do.

*I was an env sci major in college.  I kid.  I kid a lot.  And I <3 Al.  <3 him a lot.

I just don’t get people who don’t eat breakfast.  Breakfast is my favsies.

These days, however, breakfast has a lot of competition.  It’s not just Breakfast v. Lunch v. Dinner.

These days, we have First Breakfast, Second Breakfast, Early Lunch, Lunch, Late Lunch, Dinner, Supper, and Bedtime Snack.  And by “we” I mean Me.  And Biggest Loser contestants, pre-biggest loser.

I say this because (shockers of all schockers), I’m about to share a meal that might give Jillian Michaels a heart attack.  Frying Shit.  YUUUM. Grease.  But, lately, I can take in some grease and keep on ticking.  Should I be relying on healthier forms of calorie hard hitters?  Sure.  Is it ok to stray a bit to enjoy the purely joyful ability to eat almost anything that Ironman training affords? Heck to the yes.  (Although, tomorrow I will be discussing how gross I feel because I’m eating like shit to compensate for IM training…)

Until that post tomorrow, I went all southern on my frying pan.

Fried Green Tomato Salad.

Starting with LOCAL Cornmeal (and peeps, I had to scour places in Augusta looking for local GA grains.  It was NOT an easy search.)

Cornmeal + flour + a little bit of sugar and salt in one bowl; eggs and milk in another bowl.

Oil in the pan to get cracklin’ warm.  Also, serves as a beautiful mirror.

Slice your self up some beautiful green heirloom toms.

Coat the tomato slices with the eggs mixture.

And then coat the tom with the cornmeal mixture.

And then toss in the frying pan.

And let sizzle.

Place on a bed of sliced heirloom tomatoes, with a balsamic-basil vinaigrette.  Sprinkle with crumbled goat cheese.

And EAT!

Is it time for ice cream now?

Anyone else love fried green tomatoes?

1. If you are a girl, you will lose your boobs. No seriously.  I didn’t have a lot to work with before the training.  And now I have negative.  I don’t know how I’m losing weight (ok, I do, I mean, I’m training 80-bagillion hours a week).  But I’m constantly eating.  And I tried on a strapless dress the other day and it literally slid off over my chest.  I was seriously ok with losing my social life (it wasn’t much to begin with).  But losing my boobs (which weren’t much to begin with either) is just going to far.  Dear Ironman: give. them. back.
2. You will start using elevators.  Even if for just one floor.  I used to laugh at some of my coworkers who take the elevator in the court house to get from the first floor to the second floor.  Now, I think about doing it myself.   Because do you know how hard it is to climb a set of stairs?  When you legs are biking/running/swimming 15+hrs per week?  Yea.
3. All of your free time will be spent sleeping or eating. My day: Wake up, eat, train, work (eat every 1.5 hours), eat, nap, train, eat, sleep.  I am always eating.  There is a person on my court team that is always smoking.  We always joke that when you can’t find that person that they are outside smoking.  Now, I’m that guy.  With my eating.  I’m in the attorney’s room eating in between every court break.  In fact, during my trial on Monday, midway through the first witness, I was already starving.  And I may or may not have passed a note to a coworker inquiring about lunch.
4. Your friends will stop even asking you to come out. Because they know the answer.  Because if it’s a Friday or a Saturday you have to wake up at the crack of dawn to do long runs and rides the next day.  And if it’s a weekday, you inevitably have a second workout for the day.  And then you have to wake up pre-6am for training in the morning.
5. Every three sentences out of your mouth will include the word “Ironman.” I used to constantly start sentences with “So, I just heard on NPR…”  Now, half of my sentences are about NPR.  About 40% are Ironman related.  And the other 10%?  Those sentences are unintelligible because I’m either half asleep or stuffing food in my face.  I’ve never felt so f-ing one dimensional in my life.

So I’ve gotten pretty used to consuming anywhere between 4000-6000 calories per day.  And my weight has stayed stable (though my body comp has shifted some with fat loss and muscle gain).  But, oh heavens, it’s going to be a rude awakening when I stop training…and have to go back to eating like a normal person.  I’ll miss my GINORMOUS piles of pasta and pints of ice cream.

I might miss them enough to sign up for another Ironman next year.

At least then, I’ll know what I’m in for.

The Ironman is just around the corner!  Eek!  Just 8 weeks to go (ok, 7.6 wks to go).  Which means two things. One: that I need  get serious.  And  Two: that my life (and thus blog) will be Ironman consumed (my apologies will follow).

The getting serious part has meant adopting new life rules for the next 8 weeks.  Some I hope to keep around, some I’m itching to break (like no. 3).

1. In bed by 9. That is the ONLY way that I will be able to stick with #2.
2. Up by 5:30 (and 4:30 on long run days). I have to start getting in to a rhythm with morning workouts so that I’m not spending 3 hours after work working out.  Because when that happens, I end up eating Dairy Queen for dinner.  Over and over again.
3. No alcohol. Because you can’t have just one.  And then I can’t get up early.  And I’m already perpetually dehydrated.
4. Drink 3-4 Sigg bottles of water each day. I’ve been feeling sick, headachey and sluggish.  I usually blame those symptoms on one of two things: lack of caffeine and dehydration.  And there is no dearth of caffeine in my body.
5. 30 min of stretching or yoga every day. I don’t stretch.  And I’m always tight and sore.  Fortunately there is a solution.
6. Dog > Blog. Sorry guys.  Poor little guy is neglected.  Just like you guys.  Unfortunately, I have a little more responsibility to take care of him.  So, I need to make sure he’s getting the exercise and attention he needs.
7. Eat healthy, real, good foods. Dinner last night?  French fries and ice cream.  Unfortunately for my fuel tank, that’s all too common lately (fortunately for my belly, though.)  I have A LOT of work to do in the next 8 weeks, so I need the correct stuff for both fueling for and recovering from my workouts.
8. Massages at least once every two weeks. This is gonna be a rough one, guys.  I mean, who wants to be forced to get massages?  :)  I’m so looking forward to this…

So, yes, as I alluded to in the opening paragraph, the only way you are going to hear from me on here for the next eight weeks, is if I talk about the Ironman.  Because, well, that’s all my life consists of lately.  Well, that and a little bit of work (um, I won my first jury trial Monday…holla!).

Some days when I’m thinking up dinner, I get bored.  I get bored because I eat the same things over and over and over and over.  Yogurt.  Check.  Berries.  Check.  PB&J.  Check.  It’s those nights, that I’m left with either a wonderfully creative dinner…

Or an inedible mess.

Fortunately for me, last night was one of the luckier times.

Collard-Quinoa Wrap-ups

Ingredients:*

• 8-10 large Collard Green leaves (or other harty/strong greens like cabbage)
• 2 cups Tomatoes (fresh or canned)
• 2 Zuchini
• 4-5 Spring Onions
• 3 cloves Garlic
• 2 cups Quinoa (cooked)
• Olive oil
• 3 Tsp Red Wine Vinegar
• 3 oz. Goat Cheese
• Salt and Pepper to taste

*Note: I used all local produce and cheese.  Now to find local quinoa.

1. Wash collards and trim hard center stalks.

2. Blanche the stalks in bowling hot water until they become a bright green.

3. Lay the collards on a paper towel and allow to dry.

4. Combine tomatoes, garlic, and red wine vinegar in a blender or food processor…

5. …and blend until they look like this.

6. Heat the olive oil in a pan and add chopped zucchini, cooking until zucchini begins to soften.

7. Add chopped spring onions to zucchini and cook for 3 to 4 more minutes.

8. Add half of the tomato mixture, cooking until tomato sauce is reduced to paste consistency.

9. In a large bowl, combine quinoa and zucchini mixture.

10. Spoon zucchini mixture on to collard leaves and wrap up, rolling them as you would egg rolls or a burrito.  Line wraps in an oven safe dish.

11. Top the wrap-ups with the remaining tomato mixture and goat cheese. Bake at 375 for 15-20 minutes.

12. Enjoy!

Now, I would be lying if I said I actually ate these for dinner last night.  Because I didn’t.  Instead, while they were cooking, I got hungry and filled up on potato chips and rainbow sherbet.  Yum.  And that, ladies and gents, is why I’m happy to be an adult.  Dinner. of. champions.

Alrighty…I’m now off to test drive some real slick fast beauties.  Details and pictures of my new ride tonight.

Hello Folks.  If you don’t enjoy whiney kvetching, feel free to pass over this.  If you want to commiserate, please read on.

Today marks 9 weeks until my Ironman.  Commence freaking out.  For the most part, I’ve been getting in all my shorter weekday runs, much of the swimming, and all of my biking (long and otherwise).  But oh, those long runs.  I CAN. NOT. for the life of me get them in.  It’s funny because I remember the same thing from last summer.  I would do 8 in the morning and 8 in the evening because I just couldn’t do 16.  And, with last summer’s half ironman training and just one piecemeal 18-miler (i.e. split into two runs in one day), one solid 16 miler, and a few shaky 12 milers, I rocked out the Chicago Marathon at BQ pace in the fall.  A big part of this was the weather differential.  The race: 32degrees and dry.  Perfection.  The training: 98 degrees and 99% humidity. Hell.

No really.  I live. in. HELL.  I know that the whole eastern seaboard has been hot lately.  But, folks, I lost count of the 100+ degree days that we’ve had here since April.  And when things go badly at work, a coworker and I joke that we’ve surely died and gone to hell.  And it explains everything.  The heat.  The life crap.  Then we morbidly try to figure out what we did to land ourselves in Hell.  (So many choices, really.  In my life.  Makes me want to straighten up and fly right.  Next week.)  I surely didn’t expect hell to be so humid.  But, what do I know.

But that’s an aside.  To say it’s flipping miserable here.  In the morning, there is, no joke always a humidity level of over 90-95%.  Which makes running in 80 degree weather feel like 95 degree weather.  And what’s worse is that your sweat doesn’t evaporate.  It just sits.  And you continue to sweat.  And after a 50 minute run, your fingers have pruned up.  Your clothing is sopping wet.  And you look like you just went running through a downpour.  Last summer, when I ran in the morning, I would have to go by my house every hour or so to change socks and my sopping wet clothing…because it chaffed and gave me blisters.

See.

Sopping wet.

And yesterday, I had a 2:05 long run.  And, I’ve been slacking on all my long runs, so I think the longest run I’ve gotten in since beginning serious IM training is 8 miles.  Maybe 9.  Maybe 15.  But still.  I’m half-assing my long running.  Because it sucks.  And I’m slow now.

You know my long runs from ING GA Marathon training?  Those 20milers when I avged 8:10/mi?  Yea.  I can barely avg 9:00/mi for 5 miles now.

And then I come home and pass out from heat exhaustion.

Today, though, I only made it a measly 8 miles before I came home to change into drier clothes and get water.  And I sat down to stretch a second.  And I never got back up.  This has happened before.  Like a bagillion times.  I get half way through a long run and flake.  Part of it is the weather.  Part of it is that I suck.

The whole point of this post is to kvetch some.  And then be done kvetching about the weather.  And man up. The weather sucks.  But I knew the weather for training would suck when I registered for a fall Ironman.  And all this hard miserable training will make racing in the (hopefully) cool fall Wisconsin weather seem wonderfully easy.

From today on, I will man up.  All workouts finished.  Everything done well.  Time to HTFU.

Kvetch over.  Xoxo.

9 weeks left to gut it out.

So, the fourth of July plan was going to be a repeat of last year: B and I would go to Atlanta, I’d run the Peachtree RR, and he and I would stay and play at a BBQ that afternoon.  But, I’ve been feeling pretty crummy lately and much like my blog, housework has been neglected at an all time high rate.  Falling asleep on Friday night before my 100 mile ride the next day, I felt achy, exhausted, drained, and unhappy.  The only way I could get myself to go forward with my Ironman training the next day was to tell myself that I could skip the Peachtree and the associated festivities…and spend the long weekend entirely in Augusta if I still felt crummy in the morning.

Fortunately, I didn’t feel crummy in the morning.  And I rocked out my 100mile ride in about 5.5 hrs.  But, the idea of getting my life together and having a mellow three day weekend was too appealing.  Once the idea got in my head, I couldn’t get it out.  As much as I love going to see my girlfriends in ATL, I needed this weekend to recoup.  Not only do I feel physically good for the first time in a week or so, my house is kinda clean.  I won’t go so far as to say completely clean…but it’s getting there.

But, the weekend to regroup meant that I had zero social plans for the fourth (a blessing and a sad lonely curse).  Just because I didn’t have social plans, didn’t mean that I didn’t want something patriotically yummy to eat. And yes, folks, I recognize that sentence uses the word “didn’t” three times.  Yes, I recognize this is poor writing.  No, I do not care to change it.

Patriotically yummy.  And patriotically easy for this patriotically lazy girl.

Easy Peasy Patriotic Pastry.

Ingredes:

Pastry Dough (homemade, store bought, etc.)

Berries of patriotic colors

Marscapone cheese

1. Roll out the Pastry Dough (it helped that I still had frozen balls of left over dough)

2. Spread marscapone cheese over top

2. Arrange berries over marscapone cheese

4. Make sure it’s a pretty pattern

5. Bake on 350* for 15 minutes

6. Now, folks this is the most important step…Eat the entire tart in an afternoon.

Well hello.  Remember me?  I used to post…like every day.  Yep.  Remember?  Oh, the good ole days.

I have no good reason for not posting this race report…oh…7 days ago.  Because it was actually a good race.  But, for some reason, maybe its the constantly being tired from IM training, I’m just not in the mood to be funny.  And, well, why post if I’m not funny.  Right?  Right.

I’m not going to lie.  I’m not going to do this again.  Ever.  IM training that is.

Until, of course, I finish IM Wisconsin and decide to sign up for IMFL next year.  But that’s for September.  (Mommy, pretend you didn’t just read that last part about me racing IMFL next year, K?)

So, after a horribly disastrous ING Marathon, an underwhelming (yet not bad) Langley Pond Int’l, and a…well…there are no words for the Eagleman race Swim/Bike, I was DETERMINED to have a good race.  Because I was starting to question everything.  Questioned why I raced at all, why I had thought an IM was a good idea, how I was ever considering trying out for an olympic/national team at some point in my life (no, not for tris…I’m not that delusional), how i was ever that good of an athlete…compared to now.

So a “C” race, for which I was granted no taper by my coach, became the object of my “comeback.”  The stage? Aflac Irongirl Atlanta Sprint Tri.  My first triathlon two years ago, would become my first good triathlon of the season in 2010.

Swim: Oh, the usual.  Thrashing, kicking, etc.  Spotted well.  Lengthened out well.  Not too bad overall.

Bike: Hopped on the bike with the 45th overall fastest time (out of 1000+), but I didn’t know that.  And since my AG was the last swim wave, the bike transition area seemed pretty darn empty.  Used to being a darn bad OW swimmer, I assumed I was pretty far back.  So, I hopped on the bike and began to boogie.  The goal was to avg 20+mph.  So, I cruised out of the park area passing people right and left.  (I used to count, but, I lost count).  This course is the opposite of Eagleman (which is flat as a pancake).  This course has no flats.  I’m convinced.  And the hills aren’t really rollers.  The downhills are the kind where you can get going upwards of 35+mph.  But the uphills…man, they are the kind that even if you attack them at 35mph, the high grade slows down you to 8mph in just 15 seconds.

But, I’m a hill girl, so attack the hills I did.

About halfway through the course, I realized no one had yet passed me.  And so the rest of bike leg was spent focussing on preventing anyone from passing me the whole leg.  And, actually, it was a pretty easy goal.  I comfortably rode in, having made up many many spots.  And passing at least 6 or 7 in my AG.

Run: I hopped off the bike, and managed to not slice my leg open requiring stitches (like last year).  (My sole goal of T2 was not to require stitches.  Even when you set the bar low, a success is a success.)

So, after getting through the bike leg without being passed by anyone, I made that my goal for the run portion too.  But, a quarter mile into the run, a 16 yo flew by me.  But, that was the only person to pass me the whole run.  I just kept on trucking,  up the hill, down the hill, up the hill, down the hill (the run course was a lot like the bike course…no flats…).  The three miles flew by, and then I was finishing.  I felt strong.  I felt not exhausted.  I felt good.  And proud.

And then I found out that I placed in my Age Group.  And I was thrilled.

Stats:

• Overall Time: 1:34:07, 3/98 AG, 24/1000+ OA
• Swim: 9:07 (1:32/100m), 45OA, 11AG
• Bike: 57:20 (19.8MPH), 20OA, 2AG
• Run: 22:34 (7:32/mi), 29OA, 5AG

Yep, folks.  That was my first AG placing since I was 16 and underweight.  And, this is a pretty big race too, so, I’m pretty f-ing stoked.  Not to mention that I finished the race completely comfortably and ready to go for my long ride afterwards (yes, Ironman training is f-ing nuts).

My awards picture:

Hope you all had FABULOUS Fourths!