Off I go... without the drama... for now

As I type I am finishing up the last task I have to do before leaving for Mexico tomorrow morning: I am copying audiobooks I got out from the library onto my iPod. This is a sign of how anti-climactic everything has been. Normally I barely even have time to make it to the airport, let alone go to the library, carefully select three audiobooks that I think I would enjoy, and one-by-one upload the CD's onto my computer.

I've even had time to call the airline and make sure they know that I'm bringing a bike on their little puddle jumper... Who ever remembers to do that?

This whole Ironman thing is crescendoing into one giant "well, I guess that's it."

I'm sure there will be drama when I arrive. Hopefully all my luggage will arrive with me, and the drama will be minor. If my biggest drama is that I forgot a toothbrush (I didn't), then I could deal with that.

As far as the race, for those of you following at home I'm going to stick my neck out and let you know how to read the athlete tracker. These are not goals, but realistic interpretations of how to gauge my progress. I won't reveal my real goals until after the race so that I can temper my overblown expectations as much as necessary to keep me from looking like a fool in my race report.

Bib number: 1076

The swim:

• The conservative estimate is 1:06. I could live with that.
• A great swim would be about 1:03. I would be very happy with that.
• A screaming fast swim would be anything under 1:03. This is not going to happen unless the course is short.

The bike:

• A bad day on the bike might take 6 hours (18.7 mph). If you see anything over 6 hours, then I've had a flat, been in a crash, the wind is unbearable, or something else has gone horribly wrong.
• A decent day on the bike should take under 5:30 (20.4 mph). I would be happy with anything around or under 5:30.
• A GREAT bike time will be under 5:15 (21.3 mph). If this happens, then everything has gone right. However, if my time is too much faster than 5:15, expect to see carnage on the run.

The run:

• A good run would be sub-4 hours (9 min/mi). I will be thrilled with this.
• A GREAT run would be anything under 3:40 (8:23 min/mi). This is most likely not going to happen. If it does, I will be the most surprised of us all.
  
• I’m going to blow up if I’m running any faster than 8:30 pace early in the marathon. Expect to see the mushroom cloud as far away as Ohio.
  
  Transitions should be under 5 minutes, unless something has gone horribly wrong.
  

Wish me luck!

Actually, no. Don't wish me luck. Or if you are going to wish me luck, do so via e-mail rather than texting (roaming charges apply in Mexico). I will have my laptop with me, so I will definitely get your messages! I'll try to remember to tweet.

Still Alive...

Where the hell have I been? The truth is, I've been sitting right here working my little ass off. But since I haven't been racing, I haven't really had much to blog about. My weekly training follows roughly the same routine week in and week out, and since I really only have two run routes, two bike routes, and two pools that I ever swim in, there hasn't really been much to report. When there isn't much to say, I haven't really been checking other people's pages either. You don't have to guilt-trip me for it. I already feel shitty enough about it as it is.

So am I ready for Mexico? Yes. I am. How boring is that, huh? I have given up on trying to control the things that are out of my hands (read: chupacabras, rabid manitees, hurricanes), and everything else is just kind of falling into place.

Without any drama. What the fuck is that?

My swimming has been going well, despite my conviction that I was going to swim like a cinder block if I didn't spend at least 3 hours a week in the pool. I have been getting by on two sessions a week, and have watched my time trials get faster and faster. When I first signed on with Eric, I swam 1K in 15:10 and thought I was going to puke in the gutter. I was pretty proud of myself for holding 1:31 pace for 1000 yards. Yesterday I swam 1975 yards in 30:04, or twice the distance at exactly 1:31 pace again. I didn't even feel like I was going to puke in the gutter this time.

So I guess my swimming is on track. Not much to worry about there.

I was really freaking out about the bike, but last week we got some days where it was warm and not windy at all, and I finally got an accurate idea of how fast I'm riding. At IM effort I'm going as fast, if not faster than I was over the summer. A course that I rode at 20mph in July, I rode last week at 21 at a similar heartrate. I also did a 20-minute time trial on one of the bikes at the gym that gives a power readout, and found that I'm pushing about 20-35 watts more than I was last winter (about 218 watts for a 20-min TT, threshold power at about 200 watts).

So I guess I haven't lost my bike legs after all. Nothing to damper my excitement there.

And as far as my running... Well it appears that one day I just woke up and learned how to run. The sun just rose one day, and suddenly I was a cheetah. I stopped drinking smoothees before my runs and stopped drinking Accelerade during, and the phantom poo problem just went away. Without my insides rotting out, I was suddenly running a minute per mile faster at all efforts. That was it. I even started enjoying running a little bit. Don't tell anyone...

So for the first time I'm kind of looking forward to seeing what will happen on a run. No drama there either.

Everything else is falling into place too. I tore through the crotch of one pair of tri shorts at the beginning of a 110-mile ride (wearing a hole in my leg), and couldn't find my Aquaphor shorts. But the Aquaphor minishorts turned up at the bottom of my laundry basket one day without my even looking for them. Drama averted.

I was worried about how the deep-dish Zipp 808 wheels I'd reserved would hold up in the costal crosswinds, but then the King of the Bike Geeks offered to lend me his race wheels (same depth as Zipp 404's) for free. So that saved me $140. Problem solved, even more than I could have hoped for.

I was worried about the drag of my race kit without a wetsuit, and worried I'd have to buy a swim skin. But when I went to the tri store, the guy sold me this Zoot Ultra Sprintsuit which sheds water but doesn't have neoprene. I can wear it like a wetsuit, but it doesn't have neoprene, so it's about half the price. On top of that, he gave me $40 off the ticketed price for coming in in the offseason.

My only concerns now are that:

1. My drink mix looks like blow and I don't want it confiscated from my luggage.
   
2. I don't know if they're going to be mixing the Gatorade on the course with tap water or bottled water. Does anyone know the answer to this one?
3. Will my cell phone work in Mexico? What about my electronics plugs?
   

And, well, that's it. There's nothing to tell.

Which ones of you guys are going to be out there? I don't arrive until 9:30 on Friday morning, but does anyone want to meet up for a short ride after registration to test out bike setups?

The Nightmares Begin

One month to go before IM Cozumel... Not that I'm nervous or anything. Not that I've put these crazy expectations on myself, or that there's anything that could go wrong. I've started having nightmares where my flight is delayed and I miss the start, or my bike goes missing, or I get arrested the day before and I'm still in a holding cell the morning of the race...

Last year I was worried about land sharks ruining my race, this year it's I'm worried about the vicious blood-sucking chupacabras who leaves only bone-dry livestock in its wake. Sure, it's unlikely that the spiny wolf-sized demon will attack me, mostly because it is fictional. But still... the chupacabras is a nocturnal creature and if I'm in the lightstick crowd, I'm sure it will be lurking behind some resort landscaping waiting to suck all the blood out of me. Your aerobic capacity really goes down if you've been sucked dry. Even though it's unlikely, my coach has pointed out that it's always a good idea to have a hotel room on at least the second floor.

Beyond the chupacabras, I'm also being haunted by a very real menace: airline baggage trolls, who I have become convinced will lose my bike in any one of my long layovers. Before you suggest I ship, I've already looked into it, and both UPS and FedEx are over $300 each way to ship. The airline's only $100 each way. Because I'm poor, I've had to go for a less-than-ideal travel itinerary: namely a 9-hour layover in NYC and an overnight layover in Cancun. In my mind, the longer your bags are sitting in an airport, the greater their chance of finding their way onto the wrong plane.

But one thing could go wrong to fuck up the whole thing more than any of that other stuff: me.

I'm not saying that I don't think I can finish or anything, I'm saying that I have the ability to fuck up my race more than any of the baggage trolls ever could. If I have learned one thing since starting this Ironman training under someone else's guidance, it's that I don't know shit about my body. This is not something that my coach has told me, but a conclusion that I have reached independently.

First, there's my swimming. I always thought that swimming was kind of a formality: just a chance to offer contestants up as chum and to make sure that you were good and uncomfortable when you got on your bike sopping wet. I never figured that a short little 1-hour splash would be enough to get me tired enough to have an effect on my overall race. Sure, there's a short adjustment period when you get back to dry land and need to shunt blood back to your legs, but that's over in about 10 minutes. To my surprise, it turns out that swimming is also my first chance to fuck up this race. Recently I have been having swim sessions that are challenging enough to make me think I'm going to throw up in the gutter at the pool (10x100's at 1:25 pace with 10s rest when my best 100 time is around 1:21). I have noticed that after these sessions I feel... tired. And hungry. And... drained. I know that I can swim 2.4 miles at around 1:35 pace fairly comfortably, but what if I go too fast? When my mind doesn't get in my own way, there's always the fear of sharks.

Then there's the bike. If there is one thing that I thought I knew about that has been challenged most, it's my perception of myself on the bike. I used to think that I never got tired on the bike and that I got stronger as time went on. For some reason, suddenly I started getting tired around the time I got a coach. (I actually think it was the running that ruined my cycling legs.) On top of that, around fall every year I come to the conclusion based on no evidence whatsoever that I will never be able to ride a bike again. Normally it doesn't matter because all I have waiting for me and my bike are long trainer hours. But now... not so much.

For some reason, when it's cold I can't "feel" my legs. No, not like they're numb from the cold. It's just something about not having skin exposed to air fucks up something with my propioceptive awareness (sense of my body in space) and it's like someone unplugged my legs. My bike feels squishy. I can't and don't want to get my heartrate up. My body wants to ride 16 mph, and I can't seem to overcome it. I do not want to ride 16 mph. Right now I can't even hit the heartrate that was my average heartrate at Patriot in June.

But then again, since I'm finding it so hard to judge my bike fitness right now (it's been months since I rode with anyone else), I have no idea how fast I can ride. And you know what happens when that happens? I see a low average speed and decide that I should be riding faster. And I hammer. (It's a good thing that the pro's leave 15 min. before the age groupers, because if not I'd be coming out of the water with Yvonne van Vlerken, and I KNOW I would be tempted to try and keep up on the bike. THAT would be a mistake!) And when I hammer, I have learned, I REALLY fuck my chances for a good run. I want to have a good run. Which reminds me, I have no idea about how to run either...

My REAL Worry

Yeah, you think I know how to run, but know what? I have no idea. I've run what? like 9 races of marathon distance or longer, and it's taken me 5 years to figure out that I have no effing clue what I'm doing. I learned this when someone else took over my running and I inexplicably dropped 1 min/mile off my average pace for no reason whatsoever (certainly not training, anyway). That was when I surrendered my running completely to someone else, but the problem is that I'm STILL running faster than the paces that he sets for me, unintentionally. And here's the terrifying part: I haven't run longer than 15 miles in this whole Ironman build-up. So not only is my sense of pacing completely baffling me, I also have no clue how my body responds to fatigue these days. How am I supposed to know how to pace a marathon???

Think about it: When you start a marathon, based on your training runs you know more or less the rate of perceived exertion or pace that you can hold for the better part of 26.2 miles. This is based on two things: your knowledge of your body's preferred "steady" pace, and the knowledge of how your body has responded to fatigue on long runs. Pick a "steady" pace that's too fast on your long runs and you crash at the end. Lesson learned, don't do that in a race. But I have no idea what my "steady" pace should be (I've dropped about 5 s/mile off my average pace on each my 90+ minute runs for the past several weeks), nor do I know how my body will respond to anything above 15 miles.

Add that to the fatigue of an Ironman and well... you get the picture. Last year I was so underfed and hot that I could barely move after the bike. After my 110-mile training rides this year, my legs have still picked out a low-8-minute pace for me. I could NOT keep that up for a marathon.

Plus, even though I ride better in the heat, I run like shit when it's hot. Put those two together and you get a bike that's too hard and wrecked running legs that couldn't even run if they were fresh. Also, have I mentioned that it's been in the 40's and 50's every day here. It's going to be in the 80's in Cozumel. Which means that anything I thought I knew about pace, heartrate, etc can be thrown out the window.

A question:
So I have a question for those of you who are successful runners (I'm especially interested in those of you who can keep your pace for the final 10K of the marathon within 10s of your pace for the first 10K). How do you pick your perceived effort for the first 10 miles of a marathon??? How do you know???

Things you should know

Yes, I've been in hiding again. No, nothing's wrong. I just haven't had much to talk about. I've thought of writing some posts, but none of them ever fully took shape in my mind, so I decided to save the effort. Plus, I've been really productive at work and in other aspects of my life (read: tearing through Law & Order reruns on netflix), so I haven't had much time to sit down and write. Here is a quick list of things that I thought about posting about, but didn't:

1. I finally found a use for my heartrate monitor: to hold my pants up. It may not be appropriate for work's "business casual" dress code, but it'll work in a pinch when I forget my belt at home.

2. I was on my trainer for over 12 hours last weekend, averaging over 235 trainer miles (which are always faster than road miles). I got through the whole Lord of the Rings series (non-director's cut) and half of Beowulf in that time. My legs were fine, but I got some NASTY chafing on my ass that perfectly matched the shape of my chamois. Note to self: invest in some good bike shorts. It hurt to sit down to pee for days.

3. I've decided to run the marathon tomorrow. I wasn't going to. I really, really wasn't going to. I didn't want to. You couldn't make me. Then three things happened:
ONE: Big Red was going, and I thought it'd be fun to hang out with her. Even if it DID mean running. No one could make me run the full distance, though. It's a 2-loop course, I can just quit half way through if I want to. Secretly, that was my plan. I told people I'd keep going if I was feeling good at 13 miles, but that was a lie. I had no intention of running more than 13.1 miles.
TWO: I listened to a sort of "race report" on a podcast. I was only half-listening to a race wrap-up when something cut through my inner monologue and struck me. One of the guys started saying, "I realized that I was already making excuses to have a bad race [before it had even started]. So I just asked myself, What can I do right now to make sure I have the best race I'm capable of today?" He then went on to run a marathon over 15 minutes quicker than he anticipated. The moral of the story (or at least the take-home lesson that I got out of it) was that it's never over until it's over. And you can either decide to rock up and do your best, or make excuses for not doing your best before the race is even over. It wasn't that profound really, but I realized that I was doing the same thing. I was making excuses, telling people that I was burnt out, untrained, didn't really care... I was setting myself up to quit. I had no intention of running a good race. So why even show up if I wasn't going to try? All I had to do was pull it together for one morning and see what I was still capable of. I wouldn't be at my peak, but I haven't exactly been a couch potato either. My VDOT numbers say that I'm within a stone's throw of a qualifying time, if I had the race of a lifetime. I decided to see what I could do if I didn't make any excuses.
THREE: A conversation with Calvin (that's not his real name, but that's what I always want to call him) at the gym. We were talking about burnout, and the possibility of me running my race, or not. At that point, I still wanted a good excuse to get out of it. Then I caught myself saying, "I'm at the point now where I can pull a marathon out of my ass on any given day and know I'm going to finish. It doesn't really matter if I burn myself out hardcore, because I don't plan on running much anyway for the next 6 months. Going for bust might be good for me." I'm trying to learn how to listen to myself.

So I'm running tomorrow. My aim is to run so hard that I'm burnt to a smoky crisp at the finish line. If I manage to pull out a 3:40, I'll be elated. But I'm not going to let myself see a 3:45 or a 3:50 as a failure. Even if I run a 3:55 or slower, at least I will have ended my running block with a bang (the BANG of a tolerance for running blowing sky high).

So keep your eyes peeled. Race report coming soon.

Also, Judi sent me the following interview questions. Some of them weren't really any of anyone's business (or at least nothing concerned with this blog), so I changed them. So here you go:

1. why are you so devilishly handsome?
Breck shampoo and Brill Cream, baby. The ladies love to run their fingers through my hair.

2. when did you finally come out as a Britney Spears fan? how did people react?
I started coming out to selected friends in college, but I haven't gone public with the fact that I very much enjoy Britney Spears until you outted me just now, Judi. Thanks a lot! Alright, it's true. I like Britney Spears! Now you all know. People have reacted with shock, disbelief, and ultimately acceptance. There are more Britney Spears fans out there than you would think.

3. if you - god forbid - broke a body part and couldn't train, what would stop you from drinking again?

The fact that I would eventually heal and I don't want to still be drunk when that happens. If I couldn't heal, then it would be that "put together feeling."  The prospect of losing everything else I have (job, friends, etc.) would work for as long as I felt that way, but I doubt that would last. If I didn't have a job/friends, etc. that I really cared about that much, you'd probably find me crutching myself into the nearest liquor store.  I'd have to go to meetings, I guess.

4. your first triathlon - what kind of affect (sic.) did it have on you?
I wouldn't really say it had an effect on me. I fucked it up, the whole experience sucked, and I spent the whole summer training to get better. I got over it. I hardly ever even think about that race anymore. I would say the longest lasting effect is that I don't want to be the one caught riding a hybrid bike in my running shoes ever again.

5. do you think you suffer from OCD?
No. Type A, maybe.  I get maybe a bit anxious sometimes.  But not OCD. I don't have weird habits with turning out lights or making sure that dials and knobs are just so. I'm not even neat. So no, I am many things, but I am not OCD.

Non-Runners Seeking Runners

Burnt-out, untrained marathon runner seeks selfless, talented runner to pace through the last 6-13 miles of a marathon at 8:20 min/mile pace or better. Must be upbeat, patient, thick-skinned, and willing to deal with verbal abuse for an hour or more. Access to performance-enhancing drugs a plus. Attractive young women preferred, but heavy, ugly, or male candidates may apply if they meet above specifications. Must live in or around Massachusetts, since engagement is on Cape Cod and subject cannot afford to pay for travel or lodging. Successful candidates will be compensated with breakfast, coffee, lunch, and undying gratitude. Engagement is 1-day only, February 22 in Hyannis, MA. Interested parties, please e-mail speedyspeedracer@gmail.com.

Dead Meat

Weeks ago an email was circulated among the bike shop groupies for an indoor time trial at the Harpoon brewery (they put us all on computrainers, plug in our weight, and then we all ride the same simulated course). It billed itself as just a fun way to stay in shape this winter. It was SUPPOSED to be fun! ...And I quote:

Right about now you are already thinking about how you should get on your trainer to keep in shape for the 2009 season. And we know you miss the adrenaline rush of racing...Can you imagine a better scene than racing among the tanks of your favorite brewery? We can't either.

Harmless, right? Well... other than the fact that I'd be in a brewery, and I'd have to pass up 2 beers from my favorite brewery at the end. So I sent in my $30 and signed up. NO SOONER had I sent in my entry form, when the thread from the bike shop groupies spit up the following response:

You all will need the 2 beers as anesthesia. This is the traditional Team Psycho TT that has been opened to us mortals. I have seen some of the participants revisit their breakfast. Not even being close to in shape I will forego participating but wish all those who do good luck.

Oh. Fuck.

For those of you who do not live in the area, Team Psycho is the local elite team. And we're not talking small-town elite. We're talking some world-class pro's. Team Psycho is also the team of Her Royal Highness Herself, CoaPB. Have I mentioned that I just came off a run block and haven't been riding? My total trainer volume is less than half what it was this time last year, despite having the flu for several weeks.

I was nervous, but had managed to all but put it out of my mind when Elite Bike Chick came in to Masters this morning and said, "Hey! I saw your name on the Time Trial list for this weekend." There's a list??? So I looked. I looked, and then I ran to the bathroom to break Claire's No. 1 Rule of Public Pooping: Don't, because what I saw there made me feel like I was going to shit my pants. Seriously. In my heat are:

Karen Smyers
Ironman world champion and recent inductee into the USAT Hall of Fame, capable of riding a race this distance at nearly 26 mph.

Dede Griesbauer
Pro triathlete, 10th in Kona this year, capable of riding this distance at roughly 25.5 mph.

Aforementioned Elite Bike Racer Chick from my Masters Team
Pro cyclist with international racing career, capable of riding such events at nearly 25 mph.

C*** on a P*** Bike
Elite triathlete, capable of ripping me to shreds, no matter how she rides.

Other riders
One capable of finishing this race at over 24 mph. For others no information is available.

And then there's me.
Capable of only holding a flimsy 22.5 mph for a flat-to-rolling 15K when in shape. Not in shape. Likely to make an ass of herself.

The worst part is that, on the road, you can't see how far you are behind everyone else until everyone's gone home, and all egos are spared. Here, though, we're just going to be on computrainers, sitting next to each other.

One by one, people are going to get off. First Karen Smyers, then Dede Griesbauer, then the other elite and pro road riders. And at the end, the only people who are going to be left on their bikes are going to be me, and if I'm lucky, CoaPB. I'm screwed.

I think I might faint

I don't remember ever being this nervous for anything. This is the feeling I had 2 seconds before I got my nose pierced for the second time. 2 seconds before your nose is pierced for the second time, the piercer (who has more tattoos than clear skin, some kind of weird shaving pattern on his/her head, and about 32 man-made holes in his/her head) is holding a needle as thick as a pencil up to your face, the piercer's perforated face is 4 inches from yours and s/he's lining up the sharp end of that needle on the little dot s/he's drawn on your skin and suddenly you realize, "This lunatic, who is probably a junky, is about to IMPALE part of my body with that gigantic needle." Then you remember how much it hurt the first time, and that even after they pierce you, they still have to put the jewlery into the wound, which hurts even more. And if you're a sane person, no matter how calm you look, you're still pretty damned nervous, because you just paid $80 to get stabbed in the face. You wonder what the hell you were thinking, and you'd be crazy not to want to back out. I feel like that. Normally my resting heartrate is in the high 50's in the morning and around 70 while I'm sitting around doing stuff. Yesterday in the car driving (after a day of inactivity), my heartrate was 90! That's how nervous I am.

To prepare for this race I have swum 227,591 yards, biked 2,059.6 miles, rode 99 hours, 20 minutes and 15 seconds on the trainer, and run 782.2 miles since November 11 (when I started my log). But still I don't feel ready! I could probably count on 2 hands the number of times I've run off the bike. I've only run off the bike on exactly 4 rides longer than 50 miles, and only twice was the run more than a mile. I haven't run more than 13 miles since April. I've swum 4000 yards at a stretch twice all year. I've done nothing to practice my nutrition... Was my taper enough? Was it too much? I don't know.

Yesterday I went back to the time trial. My legs had felt like trash all week. Since I tend to perform better towards the end of the week than the beginning, I figured that moving them for half an hour would be just what I needed. Cunt on a Pink Bike wasn't there, but her husband was. With my bike in perfect working order I only went 5 seconds faster. I couldn't believe it! Given, I think I paced it wrong, and felt like I was going to puke for the whole second half. If the 220 minus your age rule of thumb is really true, then I reached 96% of my MHR (187 bpm), and averaged 94% (183 bpm).

While I'm gone, feel free to catch up on the AIDS LifeCycle reports (I've posted Day 6 below; it's a long one, I apologize). I don't know if there's an athlete tracker function, but feel free to check (if you know my last name!). This blog is a tremendous motivator to not suck ass in races, so I figure that if I put my race plan up, it will not only give me a chance to collect my thoughts, but will also give me something to hold myself accountable. Feel free to comment/criticize. I'm sure all of it will go flying out the window when the gun goes off anyway.

Pre-race I will focus on the little things: Getting coffee, finding a bathroom, getting my wetsuit on, peeing in my wetsuit, etc. I will try not to think about what I'm about to do.

In the swim I plan to start nearer to the front and inside than usual. That way I will get swum OVER rather than swimming head-on into feet. If I find feet, I will follow them. If I don't I will concentrate on keeping my head down, my catch, and not swimming off course. I have no idea about pacing but I expect to swim between 1:03 and 1:10 (I know that's a huge gap, I have no idea how fast I swim in open water!).

In T1 I will put on sunscreen, cycling shoes, socks, helmet, and glasses in that order, put an extra bag of nutrition in my pocket, look around for all my shit, stuff it in my transition bag, and hightail it out of there.

I will not eat anything for the first 20 minutes of the bike and concentrate on settling into a rhythm. Once those 20 minutes are up, I will start eating every 20 minutes and draining a bottle every 45 minutes. I am going to try to hold an average of above 20 mph, but if it's not happening, I'm not going to worry about it. My race is going to happen on the bike, so I'm going to concentrate on keeping my effort at an even 75% from mile 10 to mile 105. The last 7 miles will be about loosening up my legs. I hope to go around 5:30 on the bike, but will certainly be done in around 6 hours.

I plan to do a flying shoeless dismount into transition. I will put on my shoes (with lace locks), visor, and race belt, and run out of transition with my run bottle (empty with drink powder already in it) and transition bag in-hand. I'll drop the bag at the first available bush or tree, and fill up the water bottle at the 1 mile aid station, while I'm still getting my legs.

I have no idea what pace I'll run, but I'm going to try to keep it between 9 and 10 minute/miles and just focus on form rather than distance. We must have sexy photos, you know! There's an aid station every mile with blocks, pretzels, and snacks, so I'll just do my nutrition on the fly. I'll take it easy until mile 18, and see how I feel from there. Really, the marathon is a big, black hole in my imagination. We all know that I hate running, I hate marathons, and I hate running in a triathlon. So it would follow that running a marathon at the end of a triathlon will be the most painful, unpleasant experience of my life. My only expectation is to finish the marathon. I hope to do it running. If I break 5:00 I'll be happy. If I break 4:30 I'll be ecstatic.

Stay tuned, because depending on whether I get Shane's permission or not, I might put up his cell phone number for you to text messages of support. Please, no "you're doing great" stuff. Please send things that will get me fired up, like, "I bet you can't do it!", "You're a winner just for finishing!", "I'll be so mad at you if you don't beat Bobby's time!", etc.

HELP!!!

Oh god, oh god, oh god! My ironman (Vineman) is in less than a week! Oh god! I want to quit!

I got an e-mail last night about special needs bags. Special needs bags, to me, like some of the hazy, mysterious details of sex are to a virgin. I know that they exist. I know that everyone does it, and someday I will too, and then I will understand that it's not that big a deal. But right now special needs bags kind of scare the living crap out of me. What if I don't do it right? What if how I pack my special needs bag gives me away as a virgin?! Will it hurt?!

What the hell should I put in my special needs bag?! For me, "special needs" means things like inhalers, insulin, sign language interpreters, and pacemaker bracelets. Since I don't have asthma, diabetes, a hearing impairment (arguably), or a pacemaker, I have no idea what to put in my special needs bag. I know you're supposed to put things like spare tubes and real (un-pocketable) food. But what?! I can only imagine that eating an almond butter sandwich will slow me down on the bike. And am I supposed to STOP to collect my bag? I don't want to stop. I've seen footage of people handing Tour riders some sort of drawstring deal, but I imagine weeding through something like that on the bike really slowing me down. What do I do with the bag when I'm done? Throw it at the side of the road?! Keep it with me?!

Then they say that we can have special needs bags on the run! It's a loop course, so they say we can leave it in T2 or carry it out onto the course with us and drop it somewhere to come back to it later. What special needs might I have on the run?! Should I take advantage of this?! If I do, should I drop the bag or leave it in T2? Oh no! Now I'm actually physically shaking.

And while we're at it, I have some more details I'm having an anxiety attack over:

I've never done a transition from a bag before. This does NOT appeal to my inherent disorganization. Any suggestions?!


T1 and T2 are in different places. Will I be able to get to my bike in the morning before the start?! How am I going to know where my bike is in transition?

I've heard stories of volunteers that help you in transition. Do they go get your bike for you? Do they rack it when I'm done?! Are they handing me shit out of my bag, or do they just give me the bag and let me go? I've seen pictures of lawn chairs in transition in Mdot races, am I going to have one of those?! I realize that this isn't an Mdot race, so some things may be different. What's different?!

How the hell am I going to run a MARATHON at the end of all that?!

It is not unheard of for triathletes to drop dead in the middle of a swim. They always say they "don't know what caused Peggy Sue/Billy Bob to stop swimming and float face down to the nearest kayak", but I know the truth: SHARKS! Yes, that's right, what they are not telling you is that each and every one of those triathletes was eaten by sharks. And the ones that drowned in fresh water? Sharks again. I know it is not likely for me to be eaten by a shark some 10 miles from the coast, but IT COULD HAPPEN! Strange things happen every day! If there are river porpoises, then there can be fresh water sharks. And you know what else? People die while running every day. They always say, "Peggy Sue/Billy Bob had a preexisting, undiagnosed heart condition, which caused him/her to collapse at mile 15 of the run..." Well I know the truth! LAND SHARKS! You've seen all those challenged athletes missing limbs in all the ironman feel good human interest stories. You know what REALLY happened to them? LAND SHARKS! What happens if I get attacked by a land shark? Will anyone save me?!

Saturday Night Live - Season 1 - Land Shark | Movies & TV | SPIKE.com

What am I not thinking to ask?!

Is it too late to drop out?!

Who you calling No Wetsuit Girl?

This picture was supposed to say, "hey, where the hell did this thing come from?!" I kind of look like the movie poster for The Crow instead though.

Picture actually taken with my feet sticking straight up in the air. I guess these zebra stripes are supposed to make me swim faster?

But having a wetsuit presents a whole host of problems for my standard race plan. Since I've never had a wetsuit, I've always just done any race of any distance in the same ugly old trisuit. Now that I have many more fashionable options, I have no idea what my race plan should be. So I've decided to do something that I never do: ask for advice. I'm going to put my race plan up for the Hairy Man Half Ironman this weekend and leave it open for your advice and comments. Well, it's not really a race plan, but a list of anxieties. Perhaps I'll even be humble enough to take your advice rather than just smiling, thanking you, and ignoring every word that you say.

The Swim

Since a large percentage of my races this year will be in fresh water I went for the thinnest sleeveless wetsuit I could find. Now, with the weather being as cold as it's been, the water temperatures will probably be in the high 50's. That's fucking cold! I've swum in colder, but not recently. I'll definitely double up on caps, but what about my poor naked arms?! I'm wondering if the warmth benefits of a rash guard will offset the increased drag. I know, I know, suck it up.

Next, I've never put much thought into where I start on the swim. I usually look for the clump of people who look like they'll kick the least violently and line up with them. I've never really done anything strategic to have a good swim before (other than hitting harder than my neighbor), but it seems advantageous in such cold water to get out as quickly as possible. Any suggestions on where to line up in the swim?

T1

Here we come to my biggest fear about wetsuits: taking them off. The one time I ever wore a wetsuit, I discovered that it had turned into a giant suction cup once it got wet. It felt like it took me 5 minutes to get it off. This is not a discovery you want to make in a race. For about a year I have owned a pristine, new, unused tube of bodyglide. I have heard such things help with wetsuits. Where should I put the thickest layers of bodyglide to get the suit off? Should I put it on the suit as well as on the Claire? Any other tips?

And then comes the ubiquitous question: What am I going to wear?! I was thinking of just wearing my shorts and a sports bra under the wetsuit, then don the shirt later. Do people do this? Is that too naked? Should I invest in a pair of tri shorts now, or should I just wear a pair of bike shorts? (Tri shorts are another thing you don't need when you have a 1-piece trisuit). Should I ride in a running shirt, or run in a cyclist's jersey? I'm more inclined to wear a running shirt, since it would look sexier in the pictures. Sure, bike jerseys have pockets, but I would have to empty them anyway before I set out on the run. Should I wear a long-sleeved cyclist's jacket over a running shirt? If it rains (which they're predicting) should I change into a dry shirt every time I hit transition?

The bike

There's no use in using aero bars on this course, since there are 1,500 feet of elevation gain in each of the four laps. Thus, no chance for a drink bottle on the front of my bike. So do I risk dehydration by using hard-to-reach bottles on a technical course, or do I certainly look like a tool by using my camelbak but stay hydrated enough to pee on my bike? If I choose to use bottles, then there's the whole anxiety of learning how to grab a bottle from a volunteer. That makes me so nervous that I want to throw up. If I choose to use the geeky hydration pack, should I skip the bottles entirely (usually I have one of plain water that I practically never touch)? If I do bring one bottle, which cage do I keep it in?!

Should I waste time on gloves?

And as far as race tactics, any suggestions for how I should attack this bike portion? Go out hard and lay off? Go hard in the middle? Take it easy? Cheat and say I've done 4 laps when I've really only done three?

T2

Oh my god, this is my biggest fear of all... HOW DO I GET OFF THE FUCKING BIKE?! I've been practicing swinging my foot over the back of the bike, and it looks shaky, but I can kind of do that... but when I tried to actually get off the bike like that on Sunday, I almost smeared myself along the sidewalk. I just had time to call out to Mary, "I'm gonna DIIIIEEE!" before I executed THE most embarrassing dismount ever done in front of a crowd of triathletes. But then again, if I DO manage to do the shoeless dismount, I'll be the coolest kid ever and be able to pick up chicks for life.

The run

I'm going to run with a bottle like I always do, but should I carry anything else? Hat? '80s style headband?

Any suggestions for run tactics? Attack the downhills? Attack the uphills? Attack the last 2 miles? Attack other runners... with weapons? Go hard in the middle and hold on for the end? Cheat and turn around before the turnaround point?

As you can tell, I'm getting a bit nervous about the race. I'm not really worried about finishing, but I would like to have a really well-executed race so that I can come back here and rub Chrissie's face in it later...

Why couldn't I just live somewhere warm where you don't NEED wetsuits?!

Later: To explain why I won't be wearing my trisuit: it's ugly and it's a one piece. I discovered the hard way that this is not ideal for longer races to wear a garment that goes from shoulders to knees since it pretty much excludes any more conventional ways of going to the bathroom. I'm not against going weewee on the bike, but sometimes it's just... hard to relax if you know what I mean. A lot of time can be lost in porta-johns wrestling a built-in bra over one's hips. Plus, on a cool day the idea of having a dry shirt to put on in transition sounds really wise.

Cheap on ebay does NOT equal sexy.