Hey all, I am still alive… I spent last week stuck down in the middle of nowhere Southwest Georgia with no wireless (YES, I had to use a WIRED connection to check my internets.  Wtf.  Is this 1998?) at a job training thing, so I was kinda incomunicado (my phone didn’t even get service.  I’m not talking 1-bar.  I’m talking “No Service.”  No. Fucking. Service.).  But, since Sunday was my two-week Ironman anniversary, I’m ready move on with my blog, my life, and my adventures.

Despite anticipating them, the post-IM blues have hit me suprisingly hard.  I’m lost and wallowing in my lost-ness.  I know I need to write a race report, but I can’t.  Especially when there is no reason I didn’t race like I should have.  I met with my coach today to go over the race, and all I could say was that from the moment I got on my bike, my legs just didn’t have it.  There was no umph.  There was no kick.  They were just dead.

I don’t know why.  He says he doesn’t know why.  And, well, I’m not sure there could be anything more frustrating. To have spent half of my year devoted to a race that blew up in my face for no apparent reason, well, it’s fucking frustrating.  It fucking sucks.  And as someone who has spent much of her life resting on her laurels (Yes, it’s true.  No, I’m not proud of it), this is a new feeling for me.  If I fail miserably, it’s usually because I didn’t try hard enough.  But this year, I’ve put in the time.

I put in the time to run a sub-3:30 marathon at ING GA.  I put in the time to smash sub-5:20 at Eagleman.  I put in the time to go under 12:30 at IM Wisconsin.

And none of it happened.  It’s like my hard work this year was for naught.

Things happen.  They do.  I had a shitty mental race at ING GA.  I melted at Eagleman.

But this race?  There is no reason why what happened happened.  I ate right.  I slept well.  I trained my little tushy off.  And I tapered like I was supposed to.  This race should have been great.

And now, with a year of crappy performances and failure to reap any of the benefits of 9 mos. of hard training, I question whether I ever want to do this again.

Not Ironmen.  I mean racing.  Ever.  Again.

Because why should you train hard for a race when you are just going to get out there and blow up?  I’m tired, frustrated, and very lost.

My race report goes like this: The swim was good, I had nothing on the bike, and I walked the entire marathon.  That is not like it was supposed to be.  But it was what it was.

Now, I’m on a mission to enjoy running again.  To enjoy my bike.  To do yoga and bake more cupcakes.

Ironman training made me a one-dimensional person and I want my other dimensions back.  Ironman training made me a slow but fiercely aerobic athlete and I want my speed back.  Ironman training took my relationship with my fabulous pup and I want my puppy time back.

I don’t think you all are going to get much more out of me than this about the race.  The post-Ironman blues are real, people.  They’re really real when you worked your butt off for a race that didn’t go like you planned.  But, it’s a new beginning.  I have a chance to enjoy the fall in my garden and in my kitchen and on the trails and with my pup.  And it’s going to be a good fall.  And a good winter.

And when I return to racing in 2011, it will be a good year.

Hello, hello, hello, from the beautiful city of Madison, Wisconsin!

I’ve wandered the race expo in beautiful weather.

And bought beautiful brand-spanking new Newton Trail Runners…

I’ve splashed around some.

And put my bike away for safe keeping.

I’ve eaten a bunch of cheese (I am in Wisconsin after all…)

And now…it’s time for some sleep.  And to go a distance of 140.6 mi.

Tomorrow is….the Ironman.

OK.  Want to stalk…errr…follow me?

Either (a) go to ironmanlive.com and follow bib #2273 (me!) OR (b) follow my twitter feed at www.twitter.com/pennylope

The twitter updates promise to be far more colorful (and frequent) than the ironman live updates…and may even have a pic or two.  So, make your choice.  Either you (a) kinda love me.  Or (b) REALLY love me.

So…57 hours to go!

And at 7am central time on Sunday, I’ll be off!  Until then, there is a lot of this:

(drinking airborne)

And a lot of this:

(laying around and reading)

I know it sounds wonderful.  But guys…it’s not.  I feel squishy and antsy and icky.  Part of it is that I am still kinda eating like I work out 20 hours per week.  And clearly, I’m not working out that much.  I’ve put back on a few pounds (of chub) over the last month.  This isn’t that big of a deal, because I’m back to pre-ironman weight.  Which, while not ideal endurance racing weight, is still healthy.  And, well…nothing I can do about that before Sunday.

It’s just that my body got so used to working out hard so much each day that my body feels off with my minimal training during this taper time.

I’m looking forward to the race.  But, I’m looking forward to a normal workout routine.  Even if I won’t be back to normal for another week or two.

Now, time for some sleepy.

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.

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!).

You know that midnight train from Georgia? Well, it became a midnight train back to Georgia without a single post being written. I could chalk it up to many things, not the least of which was my laziness. And just general malaise. But also, I needed some time to regroup. To forget about the stress and anxiety…and, well, shocking sheer craziness of my life in Augusta. So, regroup, I did. And I returned to work yesterday morning in pleasant spirits…for about 3 hours.

It was a great vacay…except the one major fail. My first ever DNF.

Yep, folks…this past weekend was my only half ironman of the year. And I did not finish that sucker. I’ve been through many stages of grief. Anger. Denial. White hot self-rage. And, finally, I’ve mostly come to accept it. Because, what else can one do? Not much. But, accept it, learn from it, and move on. An integral part of learning from it, though, is the race report. So here goes nothing.

PreRace: Drove down to Cambridge, MD from Baltimore on Saturday. Picked up the packet, they didn’t have anymore shirts in the size I ordered, so they offered me a W’s S (um, have you met me? I haven’t been a WS since I was in middle school) or a M’s L. Neither work. Boo. Whatever, it’s not like I wear many of those shirts anyway. So, I leave the expo and we head to our motel.

A motel that was 45 minutes away. Because, yes, that was all that was available when I booked the motel 4 days earlier. Because…well…because, I apparantly forgot to book a hotel. I could have sworn I did. At some point. But I couldn’t find an email confirmation last week. And I couldn’t remember what hotel I booked, so I called every hotel in the area asking if they had a reservation for me. Nadda. Oops. This maybe should have been the first clue that the race wasn’t meant to be. The shirt was the second.

The morning of, I stomached half a bagel and PB and a nanner. My swim wave was the last AG wave, so I had an hour and a half to wait around before I got to swim. So, I sipped on water, tried to stay hydrated and in the shade. Mostly I just snuggled.

Swim: At 7, they announced that the start would be delayed 20 minutes. So, my 8:30 swim start became an 8:50 swim start. Which is WAY late in the day. But, I jumped on in and started swimming.

It was not wetsuit legal, which was fine, but did mean that I was going to be a lot slower than planned.

As I swam, I just tried to stretch out and have nice long strokes. And I did. And I sighted well and swam a tight course. But, the swim still felt like an eternity. With about 300m to go, I started feeling nauseaus. Like, OMG, I’m going to puke my brains out from being seasick, nauseaus. At one point I stopped swimming, looked at the shore and thought, about quitting right there. I also wondered if I puked in the water while swimming wheether I might aspirate the vomit and die.

Eventually I kept going and finished.

And then I get out and looked at my time and thought: WTF?! Almost twice as long as my Augusta HIM swim time?! WTF?!

Turns out the course was 1.5 instead of 1.2 miles…which explains the slow time. But, once I saw that time I knew that my goal of sub 5:30 was not gonna happen.

T1:

I was still feeling nauseaus, but wanted to move quickly. The transition went relatively well…but that’s it.

Bike:

I started out the bike with gooey legs. I don’t normally have that after the swim. Usually I start out the bike feeling fine. But, this time, I was nauseated and I still had sea legs. Seasick and sea legs.

But, the race plan called for dropping my HR to 150-155 and sucking down liquids for the first 5 miles. So, I tried to still take in some nutrition. With the seasickness, I didn’t want to stomach anything. So, I forced some GU chomps down my throat and attempted to drink the water out of my aero bottle.

For the first 15 miles, I averaged 19mph. It wasn’t as fast as I wanted, but it was acceptable. And then, at mile 20, the winds started up. And holy winds. My HR was up to 160-165, a whole ten BPM over what I was aiming for. I could have backed off, but then I would have been really slow. And, well, I don’t like going slow. So, I just pushed on hoping that my HR would settle down and I would settle into a fast pace.

The middle chunk of miles were rough. It was windy and flat. Flat meant I was pushing hard to keep going the whole time and the winds were pushing against me. It was then that I missed hills. Because as much as uphills suck on the bike, you can really get your speed up and going on the downhills. And once the speed is up, it’s easier to keep it up. But, at this point, I became resigned to the idea of a 3:00 bike leg and not a 2:45 bike leg like I had planned.

I settled in to a 18mph pace that was still very difficult, far more difficult than any ride that I’ve done this year. I was still not taking in liquids at the rate that I should have because of the seasickness; so, when I hit the second aid station, I made myself grab a Gatorade. And: success of the day: I made it through the bottle exchange without stopping or crashing!

At mile 40, I started considering dropping out mid bike. It felt as though I was riding through quicksand. I had to gear down to my small ring, even on this completely flat course. It was also 95 degrees and i was melting. Melting and dehydrated. My swim was slow, my bike was slow, and I was just giving up. I was frustrated that I could seem to ride like I do at home. And, so then all the mean negative thoughts started popping up in my head.

You are slow. You suck. You are a lard ass cyclist. You will never qualify for Kona. You should never have qualified for Boston. You are a fraud. And a shitty athlete. Your days are over. You will never be as good as you want to be.

Once those thoughts start going, the game is over. When I’m on top of my mental game, I’m unstoppable (see e.g. Chicago Marathon or any random erg test from my college rowing days). When my mental game sucks, I cannot handle endurance events (see e.g. GA ING marathon).

At mile 50, I could barely keep going. I was averaging 15mph, and was barely staying upright. At this point, my head was pounding, I was lightheaded, and was trying not to vomit all over my bike.

When I got to mile 54, I decided that I was not going to run. I wanted this all to be over with. I felt horrible, and not just “I’m competing in a half-ironman horrible.” And, I knew my time was going to be at least an hour slowing than my HIM PR. Without a hope for a PR, I thought, why the fuck go on? Right? So, I gave up.

Sure, I felt horrible. I wanted to vomit. My vision was blurry. My head was throbbing. But, could I have completed a half marathon? Sure. Of course I could have. I could have done that in my sleep. Was it worth landing myself in the hospital? Probs not.

Do I think I made the right decision? Don’t know…still deciding.

T2: As soon as I crossed the line into T2, I saw my dad and Brennan. I ran over to them and gave Bdog a BIG scratch behind the ears.

And then said “Dad, will you be mad at me if I don’t run?” I felt seriously guilty for dragging him down to a race that I wasn’t going to finish…so, I considered finishing it. Because he was there. But, he said he wouldn’t be mad. So…I packed up my stuff in transition. And left.

Run: Yeppers. Didn’t do this.

Lessons Learned: There will be more on this later because I plan to devote an entire post to learning from a DNF. But, biggest lesson learned? Shit happens. Also, I like hilly courses. Also, my brain can fuck me over.

Ok, anyone else ever DNF-ed? What did you learn from it? And, how did you move on?

So, just to get everybody up to speed: last Saturday (the 1st) I had a minor bike crash and suffered a minor concussion.  This is the first diagnosed concussion in my life.  I’m sure there may have been times in the past (like when I got checked in the head with a lacrosse stick and blacked out…for example).  But, this is the first time that I have gone to the doctor for head trauma.

I didn’t go to the doctor until a couple days later when I realized something wasn’t quite right.  I had a killer headache and could barely stomach any food.  And yep, my brain got a little scrambled during the accident.

Despite suggestions by a judge and coworkers, I just kept on trucking through the week.  Because I still operate on the rule my parents had when I was a kid: If you are too sick to go to school, you are too sick to go to sports practice.  I, of course, always thought I was too sick for school, but oh so a-ok for sports.  So, if I wanted to keep training, I had to keep working.  So, I kept working.

I had some times where I nearly fell asleep in court.  I had some (many) times where I got lost in a conversation with a client.  I had times where I was just so foggy I didn’t know what was going on.

But, I kept working and I kept training.  Because, in my heart of hearts, I didn’t think the concussion was causing all of this.  I have lamented before my belief that all of my ills stem from dehydration.  So, I thought, ok, this is just me being dehydrated.  This is just me needing a bit more coffee. None of it worked.

And then, this Sunday, I woke up.  And I felt normal.  And I could think again.  And my head wasn’t killing me.  And I wasn’t so tired that I just wanted to lay on the couch all day.  It was pretty amazing to get the normal function of my brain back.

And that’s when I realized I was pretty concussed all week last week.  I probs shouldn’t have been working…or training…but…hey, hindsight and 50/50 and all that.

Anyway, the training was rough this week because I really did want to sleep all week.  And I probably needed more recovery.  Hopefully this week will be better!

Monday

• Recovery Spin: 45 minutes easy on the Trainer
• Abs: 30 minutes

Tuesday

• Run w/ Strides: 5.32mi in 45 min @ 8:27/mi (super hot and humid…)
• Swim Intervals: 3400 m in 85min (WU, CD, Drills, with 10X100, 10X50)

Wednesday

• Bike Tempo Ride: 66min total.  30 min warmup, 30min tempo @ 21.2mph

Thursday: Rest. The training through the concussion started to catch up with me and I really needed the day off…

Friday: Rest.

Saturday: Brick Workout!

• Long ride: 59mi in 3:30 @ 16.8mph.  This was ROUGH.  I was sooo tired, my body just wouldn’t move.  I did a lot of drafting just to get by…
• Brick Run: 3mi in 23:57 @ 7:59/mi.  Since this was run after the long ride, it was about noon and SOOOO FLIPPING HOT.  I seriously thought I might die.

Sunday:

• Longish Run: 7.28 mi in 60 min @ 8:22/mi. It is so surprising to me that (despite my crappy-ass showing at the marathon in march) my easy runs are now consistently at BQ pace.  Makes me confident that I will re-BQ in the fall to solidify a 2012 qual.  As long as my brain doesn’t get in the way.

Totals:

• Time: 11:40
• Run Distance: 15.6mi
• Swim Distance: 6768yds
• Bike Distance: 92.1mi

Now that I’m in my right mind and see that I was impaired last week, I realize I should maybe have been more scared about the circumstances.  Oh well, I’ll know for next time.  Though, hopefully there won’t be a next time.

Anyone else have head trauma stories?