Setting goals and measuring up

What is this unfamiliar glowing orb in the sky? Aggh, my eyes!!

Enough snow has melted that I can see the sidewalk (at least, most of it). Rather than go for a skate or tromp around in my snowshoes, it's time to get down to business. I've written out some goals. Made some plans for how to get there. I've got schedules -- times, distances, target paces -- all in place to help me reach those goals. And I've discovered something... I have a lot of work to do.

I might as well have out with it. My next big goal is to qualify for the ITU age group World Championships. I'm hoping to hit this goal within a 3-year timeframe, building my fitness base and more big-event racing experience till I get there. If you're a stud triathlete, you might be thinking "pfftt... not that hard". But that depth of field is a bigger pond than I've been swimming in (figuratively speaking). I make the mistake of frequenting a tri forum where egos are measured in watts, and those outside the sub-10 hour Ironman club are seen by some as lower life forms. Now, there are a lot of very helpful folks there as well... but the undercurrent of what is "good enough" versus what is not can be insidious, even when my rational self knows that is not the yardstick to measure myself by.

Best way to hide Easter eggs this year... leave them white

Racing is all relative. You race the field that shows up, on the day that presents itself, on the course that is available. Everyone's got to swim in the same 15 degree chop. Everyone's got to avoid the same potholes. Everyone pushes to the finish line in the same downpour. The actual time becomes almost insignificant... it's the course on the day that decides how long it will take for the victor (and those behind) to finish. That said, to come up with smaller goals in pursuit of my larger one, I looked through results from last year at Magog -- the race where I'll do the Olympic distance national qualifier this season. Top 10 in each age group get a spot on the team. To come in the top 10 based on last year's results, I set the following as targets:

• swim 1500 m in 30 minutes
• bike 40 km averaging 28 km/h (on the hilly Magog course... on flatter courses this season I want to average 30 km/h)
• run 10 km in 51 minutes

Until now, I've been almost embarrassed to voice those targets. Because for a pure swimmer, cyclist, or runner, or an elite triathlete, those times are not particularly fast. At all. However, if I put it in context, I've only ever done one Oly distance race. I'm pretty close on the bike and the run if I can get back to my peak fitness levels from last season (and do it without getting injured). But I am not even in the same ballpark for the swim. Like, not even in the same swim universe. I've tried to remind myself again of context. In 2013 I built up to swimming 200 m (included in there was trying to remember how to do front crawl). In 2014 I built up to 2000 m, and was really happy with my 49:02 swim time at my first half-Iron distance. This year I have to inject some serious speed if I don't want the swim to tank my chances at success. 1500 m in 30 minutes works out to an average of 2:00 per 100 m. To a swimmer, I have learned that this is pretty laughable. I did a few time trials of different distances last week to see where I'm at -- the fastest I could manage for 100 m was 2:10. For a single 100 m... forget holding that over half an hour. Oh shit. So, what can I do but create a plan to swim more, get some guidance on technique, include intervals to help my speed, build volume to help my endurance, and maybe a little dash of praying to the universe that the plan works. It's going to take all my hard work to meet this goal.

This brings me to the real thing that drove me to post today. It's been a long winter on the trainer and indoors in general, and to get motivated and feel encouraged I've been reading some blog posts and race reports. One, from coach Geordie, was titled Rich in Admiration, Free from Envy. The thrust of the post was the following -- which I have taken directly from that blog entry:

Compare yourself to others but remember these things:
1. If you see your performance as greater than others, be thankful and humble.  Remember that there are always greater and always lesser, and that you may be blessed to be in a position to inspire others.
2. If you see your performance as lesser than others in comparison, do not envy their achievement but admire it and use it to inspire your drive forward.  And, remember, you too are in a position to inspire others for you're not on the sidelines, you're in the race.

I've always admired athletes who are faster, stronger, better than I am. I see the hard work they put in, and the returns reaped from that. I've also watched athletes honour their pure giftedness, and been inspired -- and gobsmacked. Have you ever seen Mirinda Carfrae or Gwen Jorgensen blow past half the field on the run, as if everyone else was standing still? It's worth checking out. At Abu Dhabi yesterday, they said at one point Gwen was running 2:58 min/km. She holds this sort of pace for 5 km. Let me put that in perspective for you -- if I set the treadmill at 2:58 and tried to run on it, I would get shot backward into the wall of the gym like I was fired out of a cannon.

Hope that motorbike has some extra gears

Somewhere, angels are singing... and watching with a bowl of popcorn

I had a similar "holy crap" moment yesterday, reading a blog post by a talented young woman in my tri club (her blog is The Happy Triathlete -- go check it out). She is a former competitive swimmer who has made a very successful transition to triathlon. A swim workout (that it seems would have been even longer if her lane mate wasn't on a rest week) went as follows... 4000 m... with sets of 100 m at times between 1:25 and 1:35 with 20 seconds of rest in between. ...Right? And racing a single shot at 100 m, this young fish can cover the distance in LESS THAN HALF the time it takes me. Wow.

Kelsey ready for total swim annihilation

Now -- elsewhere in Kelsey's postings, she discusses being somewhat worried about her cycling. Which reminded me that everyone, even the most gifted, has something they worry about. Allegedly, Rinny (aforementioned uber-runner and 3-time Ironman world champ) at one point complained to her husband that she was getting fat. "No way," he apparently replied, "if you were getting fat, your swim would be faster." Now that's love right there. And those seemingly effortless crushings we witness? A lot of sweat, time, and suffering went into those "effortless" performances. So I'm posting my goals, which for me will take effort and time to achieve.

Wherever you fall on the spectrum athletic or otherwise, there will always be someone lesser and someone greater. Let's appreciate other's strengths, support each other in pursuit of our goals, and remember that we're not just measured by the clock. That schedule I've built? At its core are mornings of getting kids off to school and evenings of bedtime stories and snuggles. The non-negotiable items that I'll never skip.

Now if you'll excuse me, I've got to go spend some time in the pool.

"I can't stand gyms"

That's what I've been known to say. Last year, my winter training took place in the pool, on my bike trainer, and outside on the road. Out of curiosity and to explore a company discount, I wandered into a local gym (part of a large chain) -- and was immediately bowled over. It was dark. It smelled like anxiety and low self-esteem, mixed with an aroma suggesting something had crawled under a treadmill and died. Needless to say I wasn't in a hurry to sign up.

Following a foot injury at the end of last season, I started back to running slowly and carefully. I got a pair of super-cushioned Hokas -- which, while comfortable, feel Teflon-coated on anything but bare pavement. The general cold, icy, lumpy, snowy state of things outside had me reconsidering my dislike of treadmills. As it turns out, the new city complex where I swim not only has a beautiful pool, but a pretty sweet workout room as well. It took me probably 6 months to even go upstairs to check it out, but once I did, I quickly figured out that it was pretty convenient to hop on the treadmill for a 30 minute run before going down for a swim.

The last time I used a gym with any regularity was as an undergraduate. I won't date myself by telling you when that was, but it was sometime after people stopped recording their heart rate by chiseling it into a stone tablet. There were no iPhones. If we wanted to talk to someone, we picked up a tin can with a string attached. So I guess it's no surprise that when I started going back to the gym, I found some strange and unfamiliar machines. Back in the day, my preferred torture devices were the ergometer and the Nordik-Trak ski machine (remember those?). 

Here's one that I saw out out of the corner of my eye, from the relative safety of the treadmill. I had never seen anyone on this machine. Or even near it, truth be told. But as luck would have it, I was wrapping up a run at the very moment a staff member was giving a couple of new members a tour that included the "Jacob's Ladder". After some quick instructions, I jumped on to give it a try. Think of climbing a ladder -- that moves under you quicker and and quicker as you climb higher. Fun, right?

"Jacob's Ladder"... The name sounds both fun, and kind of terrifying

This next little number, with no motor whatsoever, made me feel ready to die after about 10 minutes. Talk about efficient! Torturous AND environmentally friendly... The whole package. 

"The Curve" -- burn calories just by looking at it

In summary, my recipe for learning to love that trip to the gym is to find a weird, obscure piece of equipment and have at 'er. This might be a good time for me to also revisit my post on injury prevention...

The winter aahhhs

Last year I did a lot of running outside in the winter -- I think I hit a treadmill only twice, in hotels while out of town. This year, I've been a little grumpier about braving the biting windchill, the icy sidewalks, the slush-filled salty road shoulders. I just can't get that into it. Even Siri isn't cheerful about this time of year.

4 out of 5 iPhones agree -- this weather is uncomfortable.
The 5th one was unavailable for comment, having shut down in the cold.

Enter snowshoe running! I picked up a pair yesterday and took them for an inaugural jaunt today. I'll share a few dos and don'ts I ran across (sort of pun intended).

Dos:

• Know what you're in for and how that relates to what you want in a set of snowshoes. I was informed that, in a run-specific snowshoe, I wouldn't have much in the way of flotation on deep snow. When I looked kind of puzzled at this (as snowshoers go, I'm on the smaller end of the spectrum), he said "Oh, you'll be running on packed snow trails." -- "Wait... if I'm running on packed trails, why am I wearing snowshoes?" -- "Because in snowshoe running events you need to have something snowshoe-y on your feet." Alright! Sold!
• If you're going to forget your neckwarmer when it's minus 20-something, at least be that person who always has extra stuff in the car for their kids. See adorable scarf below.

Top Gear fans, I confess. I am the Stig.

• Ideally, time your first foray into the woods to coincide with a paramedic training exercise.

Just in case

How convenient!

•  Get a set of short gaiters to keep the snow out of your shoes. I can't believe that even after losing the trail and tromping all over the place I didn't get a single flake of snow down my runners.

And now for a few Don'ts: 

• Don't leave your running shoes in the car when it's minus a zillion. The 5 minutes between the office and the trail head are not enough time for them to warm up, even with the footwell heater running full blast. Ask me how I know this.
• Ditto your snowshoes. The flexible rubbery parts of the bindings become considerably less flexible when they're frozen.
• Don't tell yourself you'll figure out how the bindings work, and which snowshoe goes on which foot, when you get to the trail. It's not rocket science, but it involves precious minutes where your hands would really rather be in your mittens.

Hmmm... in theory, my foot goes in there somewhere

Success!

So how was the actual experience of running in showshoes? So. Much. Fun. I think the last time I walked in snowshoes I did kind of a duck-waddle and still managed to step on myself. Today I didn't try to go for any kind of speed, but it was surprisingly easy to just boogie along at a jog, without having to worry about slipping or hitting a weird rut. The teeth under the snowshoe gripped the packed surface, and the wide platform lets you bound through the trees without worrying about rolling an ankle. Joy!

Who on earth would want to run on a gross, salty road when you could do this instead??

Frozen bog in the South March Highlands near my office

Since it was my first time out, I experimented a little with different surfaces. As expected, my running snowshoes didn't float on top of fluffy powder. But even so, it beats walking in boots and ending up calf-deep.

For floating in soft powder, not so much...

But for breaking a trail on the crunchy stuff when you get lost? Totally useful!

You can really go anywhere you want in these things. At one point the path I was following petered out, and I scrambled up a short hill to rejoin the main trail. Somehow the trees managed to buffer the cold wind while still letting the sun shine through.

Winter aahhhs

Oh, and I did eventually find the police/paramedics on their training exercise...

I think they got hungry and were roasting their weakest member...

Tis the off-season

Tis the season. The off-season, that is. You can almost hear the collective "thunk" of cyclists putting their steeds back on the trainer for the winter. Runners light up grey November afternoons with their splashy shoes and "please don't hit me with your car" reflective toques. Road bikes have given way to cross bikes and finally to cross-country skis in bike shop windows. Last weekend, Scott Tinley threw a snowball at someone in the OTC coach's clinic. Is it that time of year already?

My off-season actually started some time ago. I haven't done much since my last race on the final weekend of August, as I've been saddled with some nagging foot pain. X-ray and ultrasound came back negative. Waiting on the results of a bone scan. Anyone want to take wagers? Stress fracture? Tendinitis, perhaps? Can I get "idiopathic metatarsal pain" for $400, Alex? If you guess right, I'll buy you a drink. And then give you an honorary medical degree.

That's not to say I've been bored. In the absence of pressure on myself to be race-ready, I've done all kinds of stuff just for the sheer enjoyment of it. Last month, I took a couple of friends out for a leisurely bike ride into the country. With a long break in the middle for lunch and a latte.

Right at home on the patio

Sunshine, food, and friends

At the risk of going all nerd-factor-9, I thought I'd share some fall things I enjoy that don't involve swimming, biking, or running.

Baking

Knitting

Trick or treating

Riding -- not a bike

Hope you're finding something to keep you happy and warm as the days get short and cold.

Starstruck

OMG.

That's typically an acronym I leave to the kids to throw around. However, this afternoon I had the opportunity to meet one of the legends of our sport. Multiple Ironman world champion, pioneer of triathlon, and as it turns out well-spoken presenter and all-around cool guy, Scott Tinley.

I'll say it again. OMG.

It was a packed house in our little corner of the Carleton Tavern. Having never been, I stumbled into a game of darts and then a staircase that presumably led to the dungeon before finding the right room. As the milling crowd of OTC folks grew, I caught a few glimpses of the guest of honour. I wandered up to the bar for a glass of wine, finding several familiar faces along the way and starting up conversations with "Hi, I'm Kirsten!" as I encountered OTCers I'd never met. All of a sudden I turn around, and there is Scott Tinley. He's looking at me. Say something!

"Hi, I'm Kirsten!"

Not terribly brilliant, but I suppose it'd have to do. "Hi, I'm Scott." -- delivered with a friendly handshake and smile. I wanted to ask, "So did those crazy drop handlebars really fall off your bike the day after you won Kona?" but only managed "Thank you so much for coming!"

We were treated to a terrific, warm chat between Geordie and Scott, who delivered an insightful glimpse into triathlon's early days as well as some personal stories and recollections. As the session wrapped up, Geordie invited those in attendance to come up, say hi, and get an autograph. Damn -- I forgot my OTC cap! What have I got with me? Nothing. Not even a bar coaster. Double damn. Respecting the dignity of my advancing age, I elected not to ask Scott to sign an inappropriate body part. Instead I asked if I could take a picture with him. And here it is.

Ordinarily I wouldn't snuggle up quite so close to a celebrity I'm not stalking, but my selfie arm is only so long

Race report -- The Canadian triathlon, super sprint

August 30, 2014
Swim 200m, bike 15km, run 5km
1:07:53 (3/38 OA, 3/9 AG, 13/74 men and women)

Short version: this was a fantastic day. My two little ones did their first event, the weather was great, and we stuck around to volunteer afterward. Now for the long version...

I started right at the front near the buoy, and this swim was the scrappiest I've experienced so far, in terms of body contact. Nobody seemed too fazed by it though, there wasn't any hitting or grabbing... just a lot of people occupying the same space. The clear area ahead of the front row didn't last long, and swimming in a sea of bodies rather than water, I wasn't able to find a rhythm. Looking on the bright side though, look at all these feet to choose from! Eventually the field spread out a little, and somehow I lost all my drafting possibilities. I managed to keep from hyperventilating, just barely, but I didn't feel nearly as strong as I was in Brockville where I had more open water (and frankly, more time in the water leading up to the race). On reaching the beach, I took off at the fastest run I could manage -- knowing I couldn't afford to give up so much as a few seconds anywhere on the course in this strong field. The run to transition at this venue is long, and cruelly uphill.

Swim + T1: 8:53, goal under 10:00
(last year 10:13)

On the bike (you probably would've figured that out without a caption)

Had a reasonable transition, and wasted no time on the run out to the mount line. I knew I would have to go hard on the bike -- I pushed the gearing into the big ring, crouched into aero, and started picking off cyclists. The first part of the course was very crowded. The male super sprinters had started 5 minutes before us, and the back members of that pack were carrying a relatively slow speed. Some were also clearly not used to the "keep right unless passing" protocol. This combination made the first few km a little hair-raising -- this was exacerbated by a course marshal on a motorcycle who put himself in the middle of the melee, on a downhill curve, doing about 25km/h (not fast enough to avoid hindering passing cyclists). At the turnaround, I lost precious seconds clipping back in -- I've developed a habit of unclipping my inside foot on my tri bike at tight turnarounds. I don't feel as maneuverable on it as I do on my road bike, and I also almost dropped it on the last of 4 turnarounds at my first event this season. That spooked me a little. I really need to stop doing this... It totally wrecks my momentum (I had to re-pass 2 people after the turn). Ugh! The return portion of the bike leg is slightly uphill, and was also into the wind on this day. Tough mental game when you know you have to push hard on the bike, and you've also got to run a fast 5k afterward. Kathy greeted and then passed me around the Bronson bridge, asking if I knew how far ahead Lucie was. I had no idea. Careful to dismount before the line, I hustled back to transition... still racing while running with my bike, not wanting to give up any time.

Bike: 31:15, goal 30:00
(last year 31:36)

T2: 1:36, goal under 2:00
(last year 2:05)

I passed Kathy in transition, but it took her less than a km to regain her lead on the run. A fellow   OTCer, Rachel, passed me at about 1.5 km. I saw from the back of her calf that she was in my event, but not my age group. Even so, I was pretty sure only Lucie and Kathy were ahead... So the battle was on for 3rd place overall. I was skeptical that I'd be able to stick with Rachel let alone pass her, but that became my goal. Did she ever make me work for it. She would get 10 feet ahead, 12... Then I'd grit my teeth and pick it up for a few steps to close the gap back up. I wasn't sure I could sustain this, but I knew I'd either do it or spend every last calorie of energy trying. I shadowed her all the way to the stadium entrance, then spent the last of my reserves in a final kick -- succeeding in making the pass only a few steps before the finish line.

Run: 26:10, goal 25:00
(last year 27:54)

Hard-fought finish

So that's it! My second triathlon season is done and in the books. This season saw my first 1/2-Ironman, my first Olympic distance, and speed improvements at the super sprint distance over last year's results. I'm happy with the results I saw from my training, and grateful to finish the season injury-free. What's next? I've made a list...

Now that tri season's over...

• I can wear high shoes without fretting about potential injury (oh I'll still hurt myself... it just won't impact a race)
• I'll continue to wear stretchy clothes. Less because I'm working out, and more to accommodate the lag between when my training stops and when I actually start eating less. 
• I'll go for a bike ride without a single care about how long it takes me to go X km
• I don't have to worry about nicking my wetsuit if I let my nails grow out longer than a millimetre
• Less frequent warnings for my kids about getting their digits ripped off in the back wheel of the bike trainer
• Maybe the swim caps in my closet will stop multiplying 
• I can take a break from bananas 
• I'll take one shower a day and call it good

I won't be able to call this a "post-race recovery meal" again till next year