The Decision

I've decided.

"Man, um, this is really hard.  Next fall  over the next two months I'll be taking my talents to Bay Village and Vermilion."

Not Cedar Point.

I'm a turd

I'm sorry, Sandusky.  I really am.  You were great...you ARE great.  But you're just not right for me right now.

I'm okay with this.  Really, I am.  I'm sure on September 9th I'll be a little bummed out, but hopefully I'll get to head out to see my teammate Stu announce and cheer on my buddies and everyone racing.  And I'll be there next year, no doubt.  But after a nice serious email conversation with Coach Emily, I realized what I already kind of knew:  we have 8 weeks left, and to build me up somehow to half ironman RUNNING shape would be tough.  I'm basically at the swimming and almost the biking now, but the running would be tough.  Really tough.  I'd have to ramp up fast, and then, well, there goes the achilles again, right?

So I decided that it wasn't worth the $300.  I could still do the race and get through it, but not the way I'd want to.  So I'll save it.  A good teammate once said to me that no miles are ever wasted, so I'm trying to remember that.  The fitness I built last spring is still kind of here, and I'm starting to see it.

So, two local triathlons it is.  Because I can so still have my kids at those finish lines, too.

Next weekend I'll race the Huntington Sprint Triathlon, which is, literally, in my backyard.  No, seriously.  There are advantages to living a block away from Lake Erie.  I'm so so so excited for this race, and mostly because I've been helping to train a group of newbies who are all super busy mommies to do their first (or for some, their first in a long time!) triathlon.  I'm pretty freaking excited to race hard, too, as I feel like a caged animal over here.  But mostly?  To see them all have fun and cross that finish line.  Because that's going to be awesome.

Today I had two really, really great confidence-boosting workouts.  The first was my longest run since late-April AND my first speedwork since then, too.  I was a little nervous, but I was ready to go and see how things went.

They went well.  REALLY well.  I felt pretty amazing the whole time and ended up with 5.3 miles in 45 minutes for an average pace of 8:25/mile!  That's pretty good for me.  I did 4X1 minute pickups and held about a 7:30 pace for those just to test the ankle a bit, and it was all good.

So that's in the books.  Hopefully that means I can have somewhat of a respectable run next weekend in the sprint.  We'll see!

Then, and I know this is nothing to you swimmers out there, but I finally was able to actually get in a 3000 yard workout.  I know, don't laugh too hard.  I used to crank out 4000+ yards too pretty often, but girlfriend can barely get to the pool these days, okay?  But the more important thing is that I actually felt REALLY strong the whole time.  I feel like I'm finally clicking in the water again, and that's good.  Maybe I should actually learn from this and realize 1) that taking 6 months off swimming kind of HURTS YOUR SWIMMING ABILITY and 2) swimming 3 times a week makes a big difference for me.  I'll have to keep both of those in mind for this winter...don't let me forget!

So I really don't know what I'll be able to do next weekend.  My protocol is kind of what it usually is for the sprints, which is to hopefully come out midpack in the swim (or slightly better), hammer the CRAP out of the bike, and hold on for dear life on the run.  That last one will be interesting, but I'll have my fast blue shoes on so I'm sure that will make up for any lack of speed. Right?  RIGHT?

Come on, work with me people.

Happy training!

Vacation gotta get aawwaaayyyyyeeee

Wow!

So that's the longest I think I've unintentionally NOT written on this blog.  Sorry 'bout that!  I've been having quite a bit of fun.

Training as hard as I can, too.  I had a great week of volume before I spent a week in NC.  And I learned a very important lesson, folks...Yankees (as my NC born brother-in-law calls me) should never, NEVER start their 4.1 mile run at 9:45am.

North Carolina is HOT, yo'.

I about died 467,963,105 times and had to stop under a random house's shade tree several times.  But it was still a great way to ring in my 35th birthday last Thursday.

Yes, you heard that right!  America and I are basically twins, separated by 201 years and 1 day.  It was one heck of a labor!

So I've been doing lots of thinking (shocking, no?) about what's left of my season.  I am such a planner, but if you've read more than 0.5 posts on this blog you *might* already know that.  Anyway, I'm having so much fun wrecking myself on Monday night rides and in the pool.  But the running?  Still not coming so well.  After my 4.1 miles (the most consecutive I've done since injury--booyah!) I was a little bit sore in the ankle.  Not that day, but the next day.

Sigh.

So I know I need to be very, very careful here.  Because we've already established I can't turn myself off.  So if I'm going to pay $300 to race at Rev3 Cedar Point, I need to be able to be ready and able to take a good solid shot at a sub 5:30.  If not, quite honestly, it's not worth my $300.

Do you know how hard it is for this planner to NOT PLAN?  DO YOU?  Well, don't you worry, because I have a plan for not having a plan!  Actually, two plans.

Step 1 is I'm going to race Huntington, give it my all, and see how it goes.  Assess the pain and/or damage.  Then...

--If I'm feeling pretty good about things and the state of running, ramp up the miles a bit and plan on Rev3.  I'm already to the swim yardage to get through it and almost comfortable with the distance on the ride to hit the pace I want to.

--If I'm hurting (and I need you to hold me accountable on this, interwebs) then I really, really need to do the SMART THING and back out of Rev3 with a focus on Vermilion or Lorain sprint or olympic (depending on the state of the achilles) and then pace all or part of the Towpath Half Marathon in mid-October to help my friend Sarah go sub-2.  Even if I jump in the last 10K, it will be fun.

Obviously this all depends on what my crystal ball says.  So, wait, let me just get that out...uhhh, hold on, I know it's somewhere....

#%(&!@!!!!

(If anyone can loan me a functioning crystal ball and/or time machine, I'd greatly appreciate it.)

One last thing: shameless bragging about my students, but if I can't do it here, then where, right?  I am so, so SO proud of my APUSH kids.  They absolutely annihilated their test.  It literally brought tears to my eyes when I looked up their scores.

I had 30 kids take it.  Of those 30, I had 13 5s and 13 4s.  My average score was a 4.23.

In case you don't speak APUSH, that's really, really good.

So proud of them. :)

Here is the truth.

Okay.

So, in about a week and a half, I'm officially aging up into F35-39.  Which I guess I already was on January 1, but whatever.

On a side note, I got carded the other day which only happens when I am straight-up NASTY.  I mean, sweaty for 5 hours, helmet head, mix of chlorine or Lake Erie + B.O. running-clothes nasty.  Henceforth, I shall consider my anti-aging regimen to be as NASTY AS POSSIBLE.

You're welcome.

Anyway.  So I've been thinking about this for a while, but I'm not sure how to get it down.  I'm just going to give it a shot.

There is a fine line between being making excuses and being realistic.  And I really, really try to be realistic.  And not make excuses.  Because let's be honest here:  I have a few strikes against me for being a competitive triathlete.  As I'm sure many of you out there, do, too.

I work full time.  Strike one.

My job requires quite a bit of time outside of work to be dedicated to work.  Strike two.

I have a four year old and a two year old.  Strike three.

I feel like I hear many people say, "OUT" with that combination.  Because that is what your body wants.  Honestly.  Your body wants a time-out.  Your body, with those three things, wants to sit on the freaking bench for an inning already.

Many, many people told me that I'd be out with this combination.

But I don't want to be.  I still want to start.  Maybe I can't bat cleanup anymore.  Or wait, maybe I can? Maybe by saying I can't, I'm creating a self-fulfulling prophecy that everyone warned me about in the first place. Right?

The bottom line is this:  I'm learning what is realistic for me right now and what right now is not possible.

Right now.  Not saying impossible, but not possible right now.

I learned this in my BQ attempt.  I learned that I cannot, in fact, have it all in May.  And my body has done a damn good job showing me that this season.

But we all know that I can't dog these races anymore.  I don't do them "to do them" after 10 years.  I don't just show up.

I can't turn that off.

So now, what am I most concerned about aging up?  Is it the wrinkles I will inevitably get someday?  Is it the grey hairs?

No. I don't give a rat's you-know-what about that.

It's that, holy crap, these chicks are fast.  And I don't know if I can keep up.

Here is the truth.  Ready?

I'm not training as much as you.  Or probably anyone.

Is it really realistic for me to go out and try to be competitive?  With people who don't have all three strikes against them, or are just flat-out better at dealing with being down-in-the-count than I am?

(Sorry for all the baseball references.  4 years varsity fastpitch softball here.  I used to be kind of a big deal--not really, that's definitely a joke)

But I have to try.  I can't NOT go out there and try to beat myself.  Or, occasionally, the chicks that have a F35-39 on their leg.  Even if they train way more than I do.  Even if they weren't up all night with a fever-stricken toddler.

That's not an excuse.

That is reality, though.  It is what it is, and it's not changing anytime soon, and I want every single part of it.

I've been given this amazing opportunity to train with the best equipment out there, and I try every day to work as hard as I can to live up to it.  Sometimes I just don't have time. I really don't.  So I work out for 30 minutes or 1 hour while I feel like every. single. triathlete. on earth is working out 2-3 hours more.  And then I feel like I just can't hang.

I'm getting dropped in training.

Sometimes, I get a little lonely. But he doesn't seem to mind, so maybe I shouldn't, either.

But I know that if I can just be honest here--and in general--maybe I can somehow help someone else out.  I'm not going to pretend that all I do is train.  Folks, I am so far from those days it ain't even funny.  And I know that comparing myself to those that can is just not fair.  To myself.  I still can pull off some pretty amazing stuff.

Bug has officially figured out my camera.  Here I am in the 45 minute to an hour process that we call "Dinner" with Bean, who could care less about ANY KIND OF FOOD THANK YOU VERY MUCH.

I've been working with a pretty awesome group of women, helping them get ready for the Huntington Sprint Triathlon in July.  All of them are mommies with young kids.  Some stay at home, some work outside the home, some have husbands that travel often.  All of us have strikes against us somehow, and most of us have been told in some way or another that "now's not the time" or "you can do that when they get older" or some other thing that sounds to me an awful lot like an excuse.

But I love pursuing my own little version of paradise, which involves juice boxes and DBQs and tee ball and the pursuit of a 7-minute mile.

I'm going to keep trying to chase that, even if I trip and skin my knee and watch everyone else run farther than me, like my little Bean does pretty much every day.  Because she doesn't care.  She frowns, gets up, maybe whimpers, and then says, "Wait for meeeeeee!"

"MORE push! MORE push!" (Yeah.  I have no idea where she gets it, either...)

Here's to chasing paradise.

TST

I Ain't Afraid of no STEENKING Raindrops.

So last night, I was super excited to try to hang on for dear life ride with a group of some of my CTC Peeps for the Monday Night Brick.  I even got the okay from Coach E to run, errr, walk after the ride as my first "brick."  And you know what happened?

The same fricken thing that happened last Monday at about 5:30pm.  BIG OL' STORMS.

I was so mad.

But I checked the radar and it seemed like the storms were on their way out, and the sky was brighter in the west, and the rain would stop by 6:30 so I wondered if anyone else was as desperate excited to ride as I was?

Turns out, one guy was.  Sid.  That was it.  Everyone else bailed.

Aw hellz no.  I did not just waste good quality Hoo Ha Ride Glide and get all dressed up and drive down to this park for nothing.  Come hell or high water (seriously on the latter), I was going to get this ride in no matter what.  End of story.

So we did.  And you know what?  At about 6:13pm or so, it stopped raining.  So YEAH.

The ride out to the falls has a slight false-flat style uphill and the wind was coming out of the south, so I was definitely working hard to keep up with Sid.  I didn't want to be a slowpoke.  As we reached the top of the falls I saw my average power was 163, which for me, is definitely working hard for a mid-week ride.  Sid was asking about training with power so I told him all about how I am so in love with my Joule that, why yes, maybe I will marry it.  Which really merits its own post, so I'll get on that soon, but for now, I told him that for me, an average of 163 was working hard but with the ride back having a slight downhill and a tailwind, to keep that up would mean I'd really have to bust my butt.

So bust it we did, folks.

We took turns pulling and following, but we were flying.  When I was pulling, I was holding about 21-22 mph and when Sid pulled we were more like 23-24.  Wheeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!

And when we arrived back with a big ol' negative split, I saw my average power had ONLY dropped 2 points to 161.  That, my friends, mean we did not phone it in, which I completely and totally would have done had I been riding alone.  My normalized power was 166, which is even better, since that takes out the peaks and valleys and is a more accurate measure of the power output over the ride.

And the sun was out.  Sun!  It was a beautiful evening.

So beautiful that I headed home, changed, and Matt and I fired up the firepit and had some evening post-kiddie-bedtime s'mores.  And I almost fell asleep in my chair.  Ahhhhhh.

So next time you're seeing a dark sky, I say, check that radar.  If it's almost done, then you need to get out there, and preferably with a friend.  I have a feeling these Monday night rides are going to really push me and therefore make me stronger.

Oh, and I even did my walk (with a teensy bit of running--don't kill me Coach E, I couldn't help myself) afterwards with no pain.  So that brick?  Means I am chasing down a triathlon season, guys.

And I'm rapidly gaining on it.

Getting my Sea Arms Back

This was a good week of training for me!

Now, mind you, I'm just getting back into things.  BUT!  I felt really, really good on my run yesterday. I ran 26 out of 40 minutes and felt fabulous.  It was the first time I felt really, truly, like me again!  I know I need to not get ahead of myself here, and I see my ART guy on Wednesday, so I promise I won't be dumb and go run 10 miles.  But I can't promise I won't think about it.  Okay?

I'm confident enough to register for the Huntington Sprint tri on July 22!  Not quite ready to pull the trigger on Cedar Point yet, but it's not like the price is going up anytime soon, so I'm going to see how the next few weeks go.  I do want it pretty badly, though.  But not badly enough to be in crutches.

In other news, I'm getting my sea arms back a bit!  Had three pretty solid swims this week that made me work hard.  By yesterday's swim, I was definitely tired, but felt more efficient in the water.  Hopefully I can keep that going.  The way I see it, I can either bitch and moan about how my swimming stinks, or I can actually make a pretty serious effort to swim at least 3 times per week.  I'm going to go with option two, especially since I am not spending hours on end running.  Let's see how this experiment works out.

Riding is coming along well, too.  I'm going to head to a brick tomorrow with some of my Cleveland Tri Club buddies and although I won't be running afterwards, I thought it would be a fun way to get in some miles with some cool people on the bike.  Hopefully I don't get dropped like a bad habit, though.  I may have to be a "wheel mooch" the first few times!

So I'm finally getting less scared of twitter and trying to actually use it once in a while.  I unlocked it so feel free to follow me and I'll follow you back, cuz I'm nice like that.  I thought it might be a quicker way to throw updates on my training out there, so I linked it to this page.  Look at me, finally entering 2009!  Anyway, I'm @trisaratops2198 but I can't promise I'll say anything fascinating or hilarious.  You've been warned.

Happy training, and congratulations to all my buddies that raced at Maumee Bay this Father's Day!  Happy Father's Day to the three dads in my life:  My amazing Dad, Dad Z (the supercool father-in-law), and of course the Daddy to my Bug and Bean, Matt.  Love all three of you!

Operation Eat Like an Athlete, Take 1

So I got myself a new cookbook, after I previewed it from the library and decided I wanted to EAT EVERYTHING:

Tasteeeeeeeeeeeeee

I heard about it through Mama Simmon's blog.  And since she pretty much is awesome, I knew I had to check it out.

I really like the philosophy of the authors.  Food should be real, food should be simple, and food shouldn't take all day to make.  I can definitely get behind that.

So my New Year's Resolution (see, I treat the first day of summer vacation as my real "new year"), I decided I'd try to break out a few of these recipes every week and see how they go.  My big goal is to stock my freezer in August so that I've got lots of healthy stuff tucked away for when I don't have time to sleep function think cook during the school year.

Up this week?  Two recipes, and they get my wholehearted THUMBS UP!

Very NYYYIIIIICCCEEEE

First, I did the Meatball Sliders.  I used organic chicken sausage and whaddya know, turkey was on special this week, so I grabbed me a pound of that.  Mixed it up as they told me to, but instead of golden raisins, I had craisins.  I wasn't sure how that would work out, but it turned out that it was DELICIOUS.  Who knew?!

This is SO not my picture, so delicious credits can be found here.

We put them on whole wheat slider rolls with some tomato sauce.  I also mixed up some cilantro-mint yogurt (p. 291) in my BRAND spankin' new factory-refurbished Vitamix (treated myself since I sold my road bike!) and Matt and I topped ours with that.  The kids had them with some sauce and a bit of shredded mozzerella.  The recipe made more than they called for, and I ended up with 21.  I botched one, so Mugsy the Wonder Pug got a very special treat for dinner.  We all feasted like kings, and I still have 12 balls left!

Uh, huh huh.  Huh huh.  BALLS.

So this is definitely a keeper recipe as well as one that will freeze nicely!

Tonight, I tried the Buffalo and Sweet Potato Tacos.  Except instead of Buffalo, I used some local, grass-fed beef.  It was on sale, and I thought it would substitute nicely.

Browned the beef, and added the spices which included taco seasoning, some chili powder, and a bit of brown sugar.  Then you add some peas and the juice of a fresh lime.  It seemed like a bizarre combination, but let me tell you the awesomeness of it....it was unexpectedly sweet.  Delicious and perfect for summer!

You also saute up some sweet potatoes, red peppers, and onions.  I added a bit of lemon-rosemary spice that I have from Wildtree which is tasteeeee.  I have to admit I wasn't sure how it would taste or how the kids would do with it, especially since Bug told me that sweet potatoes were "gross."

Well guess what?  That kid OUTATE ME!  Again!  I am in big trouble when he hits high school...

This is not my picture, but it is making me hungry again. Photo credits, as well as a great review, here.

Bug gobbled up an entire taco and then asked for more--and ate all of another one!  Even my picky Bean couldn't get enough of the sweet potatoes, red peppers, and sweet and spicy beef.  Matt and I put the cilantro-mint yogurt on top again and it was delicious!

I think this could also be made frozen, but probably just the meat and peas.  I would just do the veggies before serving since peppers and onions don't seem to ever thaw well for me, but maybe I'm just doing it wrong, cuz Trader Joe's rocks that shizz all the time.  Oh well...

Anyway, if you haven't checked out this book, I highly, highly recommend it.  It's full of easy stuff that kids will like, too.  I'm going to try the sweet potato cakes later this week.  I know Biju Thomas and Allen Lim created this for his Tour athletes that need stuff to eat on the go, and by "go" I mean INSANE HUNDRED MILE RIDES ON MOUNTAINS, but this busy triathlete mama has used them to go, as in go to the local kiddie pool and avoid the snack bar at all costs.

Fig and Honey Rice Bars...mmmmm

And guess what I'm gonna try with all my leftover juicing veggies and fruits?  These tasteeeeee little burgers:

So if you're a triathlete, and you like to eat (I mean, isn't that the best part about doing these crazy workouts?!), but don't have a gazillion hours to spend buying copious amounts of strange ingredients and cooking, then you DEFINITELY should be checking this out.

Happy eating!

A Race Report

...but not for me!

For Coach Emily!  Because you know what?  She finished 4th at the Escape from Alcatraz Triathlon today.

FOURTH!

Do you guys have any idea what that race or field is like?!?!?!?!?!  Just check out the website, and then check out the results, and, oh, you know, tell me what you think.  I'll wait.











(still waiting)








FOURTH, PEOPLE!  Just a little behind a little someone named Leanda Cave and right before someone else named Becky Lavelle.  You may have heard of them...

ACK!

I am so happy for her!  Aside from being a super awesome person, she is just one hard worker who is living her dream and getting the job done.  Plus, she puts up with me.  And I think she still is even willing to talk to me!  One of these days I keep getting afraid she's going to realize how NOT cool I am and that I'm not even on the same triathlon PLANET as her.

Congrats, Coach Emily--couldn't be happening to a better person!

Just change it to "Achilles Tendonitis"

...And then it's pretty much spot-on.  

Who has two thumbs and is up to NINETEEN WHOLE MINUTES OF RUNNING without pain?


THIS GUY!!!!


Oh, how I feel like a caged-animal.  But you know what?  I'm off of school, yo'.  That means it's time to swim and ride like a maniac and try to save some kind of a season this year.


I'm not entirely ready to register for Rev3 yet, but I'm getting there.  Let's just say I keep checking out the website, and I do have my credit card number memorized.  So I'm ready.

Lace those puppies back up

I ran 15 minutes, in 4, 5, and 6 minute intervals (with walking in between), at a comfortable pace in the mid-8s with NO PAIN.

NO.

PAIN.

*backflips*

I'm not ready to give up on that September race yet.  No way.

Occupational Hazard

Bean had a rotten cold all week.  Poor thing.  Snotty and coughing and just not herself.

So I hugged her lots and gave her lots of kisses.  And guess what?

Who gets a head cold on a beautiful, sunny, June 2 and spends all Saturday in bed?

THIS GUY.

So my run on Wednesday?  Sort of messed with my head.  The ankle swelled up a little that evening, so of course I thought it was armageddon.  And I acted as such.  At one point, I *might* have thrown my running shoes in the corner and said loudly "WON'T BE NEEDING THESE #%%#!)%s  ANYMORE, $%*&(@ !"

Sigh.

I can't help but thinking that I may be going from "I might have a delay in racing this season" to "I may not have a racing season."  And it sucks.  And I'm pretty bummed out about it.

But school is almost out, which means I get to at least rest a little more (hopefully) and also means that my flexibility in getting to the pool and riding is dramatically increased.  So I'm going to do my best to keep the demons at bay and think that maybe, just maybe, this season is not a total wash.  And there's a snowball's chance in hell I'll be in racing shape for Rev3 Cedar Point in September.

Because I'm just not ready to give up on that yet.  And I have a half-marathon to redeem, too.  So I might as well do it there.

For now, I'm going to sneeze 968,472,108 more times and take some Nyquil.  And keep the head up, too.

Can't help myself.  I love this song.

First Run Back

Well, I just got back from my first run/walk really since April 28th...wow.  Over a month.

I really, really, really hope that's enough!

But Coach Emily put in the plan, "IF YOU HAVE PAIN DISCONTINUE IMMEDIATELY!!!!"

She is totally not usually a SHOUTY CAPITALS  or multiple exclamation points user.  So I know that she meant business.  For realz.

The plan was to do this:

Walk 7 minutes
Jog for 3
Walk 4
Jog 4
Walk 2
Jog 5
Walk 5

My first thought, I have to admit was, man, look at that.  Look what I've become here.  Look how much fitness I've lost. 

But then I quickly smacked myself upside the head and decided to get over it and get it done.

I have to admit, I was scared.  So scared that last night I freaked out to Matt.  I even got a little teary and said, "What if it still hurts?  I just want ME back."

Yes, I am TST and I am aware that running (or really, racing and tris) have become such a huge part of me that I've felt lost the past month.  Restless.  Cranky.  Bloated up like a balloon.

Not me.


So the thought of it still hurting?  And having to DISCONTINUE IMMEDIATELY!!!! (?)  Well, that was enough to throw me into a few irrational minutes of sniffling.

I set out and held my breath a little.

And let me be clear:  I sucked.  Big time.  I felt really slow and large and lethargic.  But I still felt so good to be out there.  Working full-time with a 4 and 2 year old, I've really relied on my little runs as my quiet time and my sanity saver.  Aside from missing my race, I missed that.  Probably more than the race, actually.  So I went out with no other noise besides my feet on the pavement and my breath.  I needed to hear that, and I needed to hear myself think.

(In case it hurt.)

Well, the good news is, it didn't hurt.  It felt strange, and tight a bit, and definitely different than my right achilles.  But it didn't hurt.  So I'll take that as a step in the right direction.  Even if it was a small, slow, kind of bloated step.

It's not a cranky step anymore.  And that's good.

Up again

First, I sincerely thank you for some thoughtful comments after my last post.  I really appreciate it.

Things are looking up.

Went to the service today, so the worst is over with that.

Got word that I get to try a run as early as Wednesday.  My fingers are crossed and I'm trying not burst at the seams with excitement.  Running, I miss you.  Oh how I have needed you this month, for sure.  Pretty please, can you come back to me?

Two more weeks at school, although this one will be a little crazy.  I'm presenting in front of quite a few of my peers in the NEO at a conference on Thursday.  I'd be lying if I said I wasn't a little nervous.  But I'm excited about what I'm sharing, which is a pretty amazing project my APUSH students have been doing with Cleveland Historical.  They are making content for the app, and I'm seriously impressed with what they are churning out--especially on a short timetable.  These guys never cease to amaze me, and that's pretty awesome.

Along with grading and trying to close out the school year,  I'm packing up my classroom.  Especially fun when it's 87 degrees in my classroom, like it was on Friday.  But when the construction is done, we'll have air-conditioning!  Yay!  Too bad I won't ever be 9 months pregnant in the hottest September on record again, but I digress.  Anyway, we're all moving rooms due to renovations, so I won't be in 221 anymore...sniff sniff...Bean was born on 2/21 and I'm partial to that room number since I've spent the past 12 school years in it.  But I came across this little gem while I was packing:

It's a scrapbook that my freshmen and juniors put together from my first year teaching at Oak Hills High School.  After a long week of thinking about this profession and how it can break your heart sometimes, I really, really needed this.  Reading through the letters made me happy.  And laugh.  There was even an empty pack of pretzels in there with a note saying "sorry!  they were just calling my name" because one kid asked to go to the bathroom and instead went to buy pretzels at the vending machine and I REAMED her for it.  It definitely made me smile.

The-Year-In-Which-They-Were-4-And-2-And-I-Taught-Full-Time is almost over, and I'm definitely ready.  I'm exhausted.  It took its toll on me, physically and emotionally.  I know in part my injury is due to the fact that I haven't sat down or really had a real, true rest day of just rest since last August. 

And true story:  I was nominated for two pretty big honors: the National History Teacher of the Year Award and the Martha Holden Jennings Master Teacher Award.  I found out this week that I didn't receive either one, and I was a little bummed about it but after I found out about Dulcy I quickly got over myself.  I know, just like in triathlon, I am way, way, WAY too hard on myself sometimes all the time, so more than anything it was just really nice to know that someone noticed that I work my tail off day in and day out.  Honestly, that was better than actually winning.  That, and that yellowed and faded photo album full of pretzel wrappers and misspelled letters.  

The trophies are nice and all, but that's not why I got into this profession.  Or this sport.  Which is a good thing, because I am rarely winning them.  But knowing I give it my all and every once in a while having someone acknowledge it...or even just say "thanks?"  That's what keeps me going.  

I might have said goodbye to my race last week, and I may be saying goodbye to 221, but I know that the journey is more important than what room I'm in or what race I missed.  

Cheers to the end of one year and the beginning of the next.

Class of 2003

I always felt partial to the Class of 2003.

They were my very first freshman at Oak Hills when I was a first year teacher.  We were all freshmen, together.  When they graduated, I felt like part of me had made it, too.

This morning, I got an email with the subject line:  "Student, Class of 2003" and I knew it would be bad.  I hoped it wouldn't be too bad, but I've seen enough of these emails to know it's never good news.

I saw who it was, and my heart sank.

There are a few students I've met in the past 13 years that I can say I know, without a doubt, will change the world.  I've been lucky to have a few.  Ones that I knew would go so far.  They had so much talent, and confidence, and dreams up in the sky and I just knew they would make it.

Dulcy was one of those.

I immediately teared up and had to pull it together for the last 10 minutes of class.  A student asked if I was okay, and I said, "No...not really."  And I told them, because I figured they might as well know why I was shaking.

You never quite get used to going to funerals for students.  They sit in my room, every day, for 54 minutes.  We laugh, we get frustrated, we figure stuff out, we think some more.  Sometimes they drive me nuts.  Sometimes I drive them nuts.  And then another June comes, and another round of scantrons and a picture I take in the back of my room and then the door shuts and it's over.  They walk out the door, and they move on.  And I wish them well.  I always wish them well.

I decided I'd better do something productive during my planning period, which was the next one.  We're in the middle of renovations and we have to pack up our rooms.  That's it!  I'll mindlessly put books in a box!  I can do that!  I can totally do that!

Except I had no packing tape.  I had to get packing tape from the office, and I was all red and puffy and snotty.

So I pulled it together and headed to the office.  I asked for the tape from the secretary in the main office...the one who sent the email about Dulcy.  She looked at me and I knew she knew I was upset.  And I asked for the tape and then I started to feel the sting in my eyes, so I said, "I'm sorry...it's just the email....I...I'm pretty sad."

And I thought I'd be okay.

But she looked at me and said, "Yes, when her cousin came in to tell us the news and arrangements, she wanted us to tell the teachers, and she said she knew Miss Arcaro was her favorite teacher, and...."

And that was it.  That was the moment I sobbed in the main office.

I grabbed the tape and apologized and ran off to get it out.  And then pull myself together, because another round of kids were coming into my room when that bell rang...a life I lead by bells, by hundreds of kids coming in and out of my life, each one having an impact and each one teaching me something.

I will always remember Dulcy and her smile and her voice and her desire to change the world, and how she was well on her way to doing just that.  

Yesterday Came and Went

The race I registered for and worked my butt off for was yesterday.

Yesterday morning kind of sucked.  Ironically, I slept in and came downstairs to make some coffee at--wait for it--8:42am.

Sigh.

(The race started at 7:00)

But I know I made the right call.  This injury thing was more serious than I initially thought or wanted to believe.  It's been 3 weeks of not running and I am just now feeling like I am almost back to normal.  I don't feel pain up stairs or on my tiptoes, and I actually had to run after Bean as she took off down the street (girlfriend is FAST) and I felt no pain.  So there's progress!  And some hope.

On the bright side, I've been swimming pretty well, am back on the bike without pain (and had a couple of great rides lately, even if they were only 20 miles or so) and my upper body is getting jacked (ha! relatively speaking of course) from all this P90X baloney.  I hate it, but I love it.  Or something like that.

And this weekend I got to hug and squeeze my new niece and nephew who are the CUTEST BABY TWINS IN THE UNIVERSE and yes, I'm serious.

Proud Cousins Bug and Bean

Today I put my money where my mouth was and wore my prom dress to school.  The deal was that if my kids raised over $100 for an awesome charity, Girls With Sole, I'd wear my prom dress to school all day.  Each class had a minimum of $10 and I had to have at least one class hit $100.  At the time, there were 3 days left and my biggest donation from one class was $4.47.  Needless to say, I was pretty confident I'd be safe.  But they really came together in the name of charity public humiliation.  Good thing I'm a good sport!  So it was 1995 in Room 221.  I almost played them some Ace of Base to get in the real spirit.  You don't remember this little gem?  I distinctly remember blaring it the day after prom in a convertible as we drove around a state park and thought we were awesome:

Oh Swedish '90s bands.  You're cute.  I love you. But what is that dude DOING in this video?  Is he dancing?  Does he smell something funny?  OMG, what is HAPPENING HERE?  And is "the sign" the same as that weird symbol that Prince used to call himself?

But sorry, no pictures.  You'll have to take my word for it.  I'm pretty sure a few pictures are probably bouncing around the twittersphere and instagram.  Just look for the fool wearing blue sequins (although I don't have the dye-to-match shoes anymore).

Turns out my classes brought in the most money!  So I'm proud of them.

My AP kids are working on something kind of amazing right now, and my World kids are humoring me but really wishing it was June 7th.  And man, could I ever use a good, hard run.

Soon, right?  The worst part is over, and the sun still came up.  I didn't spontaneously combust.  And I'm getting excited to get this thing better already so I can start bricking and tri-ing and doing what I love to do.

T1 to T2

I'm a little sad.  Seriously.

But happy, too.

I just sold my very first road bike ever....the bike that took me on my first MS 150 tour, which then led to me thinking, "wait a minute...maybe Ironman isn't completely insane..."

And then the bike that got me to the starting line--and the finish line--of my first and only Ironman.

It's WAY too big for me (I know this now--it's a 56cm and I ride a 52 for crying out loud), doesn't fit me at all, and I've been passing it around to friends and throwing it on the trainer here and there.

But it's definitely got a lot of miles in it.  And my friend Laura, who is a tri-studette looking to get back into tris, is also about 5"11'.  It fits her perfectly.

It's time to say goodbye.  But I can't help remembering all the miles.  All the hills.  The falls, the occasional tears.  And sometimes swearing.  Getting lost, getting flats, getting 9 years of memories and stories and miles on that bike.  I bought it when I was just starting out in this sport.  I clipped on my handlebars and clipped in some pedals.  I remember riding it that first summer, thinking, "this is the single best purchase I've ever made," and falling in love (after a few bumps in the road and breakups) with triathlon.

True dat.

I was single.  I was 25 years old. The road ahead of me had a million twists and turns and I didn't even quite know which route I was going to take or which finish line I'd be heading towards.  But I had one badass new bike, and I was ready.

It's got a lot of good karma.  I hope it brings her lots of adventures.

Something Else Dawned on Me

So you know what?

I've been doing quite a bit of running, biking, swimming and thinking lately.  And I think I've come to the realization of something.  Again.

I'm a triathlete.

I'm not a runner.

Now, let me get a few things straight, though, before you all pounce on me.  I do like to run.  I love to run, actually.  And I like to do races (as you probably know) and I like to run with people but I don't like getting hurt.  

No, that sucks royally.  I'm literally losing my marbles over here.

And the more I think about it the more I think that tri training in the winter/early spring is NOT, like I have thought the past two years, impossible.  In fact, I think it may be my lifeline.

Because yeah, running is efficient.  It's quick, it's out the door in two seconds with my running shoes on and nothing else (I mean GEAR, people.  Bike, pump, tubes, goggles, etc.  Clothing is ON TOO, pervs.) And even at the height of marathon training, I'm still "only" working out, maybe 8 hours a week.  You know?  Versus the 15-20 hours a week I put in during Ironman training.

Side note:  OH boy.  I just got the shakes there.  Even when I do another Ironman someday, I won't be putting in 20 hours a week again.  A) I don't have that kind of time and B) for what I'm trying to do (finish smiling) I know I don't need all that.

But I digress.

The point is that even at *only* 8 hours a week or so of running, my body can't do it.  Not the type of running I want to do.  I want to go fast.  I want to push my limits.  But given that I pretty much am the poster child for how NOT to recover, that hasn't ended well for me the past two springs.

No, I'm definitely a triathlete.  I need that mix not only mentally but physically.  And I get the greatest joy from putting all three things together.  I just do.  I can't really explain why I enjoy it so much more except that perhaps I have a dose of what I like to call "exercise-induced A.D.D."

I'm kind of REALLY kicking myself for this whole deal, because it will knock me out of a few early season tris (I think).  Unless things change soon, I shouldn't even think about doing the Maumee Bay Olympic.  Sprint, maybe?  But definitely NOT the oly.

But, I think I've learned a lot over the past two years here.  And if the definition of insanity is doing the same thing over and over and expecting different results, well, then, I bought a one-way ticket to Crazytown.

TWICE.

But I'm hopping off this train RIGHT NOW thank you very much.

I anticipate next year's race schedule to look quite a bit different than what I've tried to do the past two seasons.

Change is good.

On The Bright Side

Since I'm not racing in 10 days,

1.  I'll get extra snuggle time with sweet little new twins niece Layla and nephew Logan when they come to visit.

2.  When they come visit, I don't have to worry about Saturday night's meal.  Pass me the BEAN BURRITOS, baby.  With a side of margarita.

3.  My toes might actually look nice the first month of the summer, instead of all falling off and me painting my nubs.

4.  More time to swim, lift, and do yoga.  Because right now those are basically the only things I can do.

So I went for a ride Sunday and about 6 miles from home, I flatted.  Of course, with nothing in the back, because Bug had taken the bottle with all my goodies and put it in the back of his Jeep.  Fail.  I sat down on the side of the road and someone ran by me and waved.  I waved back.  Then I cried.

Made it home, which was good.  Then decided the universe hated me and I should probably just stop for now.  Had a fire with some s'mores with Matt and a nice cold one and felt a little better.

Speaking of Jeeps, did you know that Stormtroopers like to drive Jeeps?

And 4 1/2 year old boys are pretty much the coolest, funnest, awesomeness people ever.  In case you were wondering.

Keeping the chin up,

TST

The Learning Objective

"What is with you?  Didn't you get hurt before Cleveland last year?"

This was the message a good friend sent me last night when I was trying to make my decision.

Yes.  I've been injured exactly twice, and both times were this time of year in preparation for Cleveland.

Okay:  the task of today's lesson is to analyze WHY.  In honor of the APUSH test in 6 days, let's do it like a DBQ.

"Analyze the reasons why TST has had the only two major injuries of her running career during Spring 2011 and Spring 2012.  Use the evidence from the period 1993-2012 to evaluate your answer."

Now, if this were an actual DBQ, there would probably be the trainer's list of stretches for me and a picture of me calling time-out on the mound at age 16 to stretch my hamstring.  This is a reminder that I have had hamstring problems that were pretty severe since about 15-16 years old.  They have always been tight--especially the right.  And it was so bad that in the middle of games I'd get shooting pains in my back and have to call time out on the mound to stretch.  The hamstring pulled on my lower back and the pain was excruciating.  I remember it pretty vividly.

Then, it would most likely have some training logs from my early 20s.  Showing that yes, indeedy, I can handle high volume.  I did everything right, all the time.  Rest.  Massage. Ice baths.  Nutrition was questionable, but only because I was still in the happy-hour-turns-into-2am phase of life.  Other than that? I did everything right.  No injuries.  Ever.  Even through Ironman.  High volume, no problem.

Then we'd move into the past 4 years.  And we could maybe list the training logs but include sleep and recovery.  What we'd see there is that I haven't slept more than 5-6 hours per night consistently since 2007.  That's not an exaggeration, it's a fact.  Having kids turned the worrywart that I am into the hyper-sensitive, unable to ever sleep worrywart.  This is reality.  I'm working on changing it, but it's been five years now and it's just kind of become the new normal.

There is no massage, as childcare for 2 kids is more than our mortgage.  I just can't justify massage like I used to.  There is little to no ice.  There is little to no rest or sitting down, and not enough stretching.  From September-June, there is especially no sitting and many hours standing in poorly supported shoes.

Then we'd see a sample of my learning objectives for my courses and maybe a few pages of the high-stakes exams in March and May that very soon may become the foundation of my paycheck here in this state, along with the lists of IEPs and 504s that are also pretty detailed and legally binding (as they should be, to ensure everyone gets a fair and equal education).  We'd see the burden of that serious responsibility lies upon the classroom teacher.

We'd also see the results of my long runs and pace work and see that yes, I absolutely can run a 3:40 marathon and can absolutely run a half marathon in the low-1:40s.  There is no doubt at all in my mind, and also no doubt when I look at the evidence of the log.

And it would be clear from examining the evidence that the spring is not the time for me to try an aggressive running goal.  


This would be what the thesis statement would have to say.


We've already established that I can't dog my goals.  I've done 4 stand-alone marathons and I don't even know how many stand alone half marathons--6? 7?  Doing these races "to do them" is not fun for me.  I'm past that phase and I can't really go back anymore.

So what I need to learn after examining all this evidence is that:  I'm 34.  I am prone to hamstring issues.  I have a lifestyle that I absolutely love and is amazingly rewarding and I would not trade ONE PART of what I do every day.  But it is not conducive to me hitting high, aggressive running goals in May.  It's just not. This is the reason I have told my teammates I can't do TTT, because I know that I won't be ready.  February-May is the hardest part of my year.  I need to start realizing that at 34 and having a history of hamstring problems, it doesn't mean I can't do it EVER.  But it means that doing it in May is just unrealistic and not worth the headache and injury that I have gone through the past two seasons.

When was my best marathon?

Columbus.  October.

When was my best half-ironman?

Rev3 Cedar Point--September.  And that was 6 months postpartum, for crying out loud!  But most of that training was done without school.

If I want to have the results that I know I am absolutely, 100% capable of, I need to time things up better with life.

In conclusion?  February-May should be survival mode.  It should be building a nice base in all three disciplines so I can get stronger in all three.  And then, when one of the biggest sources of stress is on hold for a few months, well, THEN it's time to ramp it up.  I'm still really crazybusy in the summer, but I can sit down.  I am not up until almost midnight with Matt grading papers together every day.  I'll still be tired, but not as tired.

Okay.  So that's the lesson we can take away here.

Boy, am I ready for that test to be over on Friday.  For now, I'm going to get ready to head out on a nice solo ride and enjoy the sunshine.  And then tomorrow maybe I'll swim.

And the world is still spinning.

Heartbreak

I really wanted this to work out.

I poured my heart and soul into this for the past 3-4 months.  I made it all the way to the end.

But I'm doing the research.  A nodule on the achilles is nothing to mess with.  I've had 3 very knowledgable professionals tell me that this race would be a risk.  A risk of a ruptured achilles.  A risk of surgery, of crutches, of all summer lost.  All season lost.

The thing that kills me the most is that I know I would have done it.  I would have hit my goal.  I know it in my heart, and that's what hurts the most.  And I know that I brought this on myself and did too much in Tennessee, and then never stopped once I got home.  I wanted the mountain.  I wanted to keep up.  I never had time to sit down.

I never made time to sit down.

So I'm allowing myself to have a good solid 15 minutes (okay, half hour) of tears tonight, chased by a margarita (hey, it is Cinco de Mayo, after all).  My run today didn't go all that well, and in my heart I know that running the race in two weeks is not a good decision.  Because I might make it okay, but there's a pretty good chance that I wouldn't.  I'd either rupture it during the race or I'd be so injured afterwards that I'd be out all season.

Either way, I wouldn't be able to keep up with these guys.

What it really comes down to is, why do I do this?  To push myself, yes.  But to live the lifestyle.  To be active.  For them to see me active and to know that it's good for you.

If I set out two weeks from tomorrow and tried to run a 1:42 half marathon, what would happen?  One of two things:

1.  I'd do it, and then be pretty injured afterwards.  I'd hobble around for a month or two, and then try to get back into Rev3 training.

2.  I'd rupture my achilles mid-race and need surgery, effectively ending my season, my summer, and my ability to have moments like the ones pictured above for at least 2-3 months.

The best case scenario here is option 1.  But that would still knock me out at least for part of the summer.  

You guys, I think I'm not going to start this race.

And I'm sitting here, sniffling and snotting all over myself.  But I know that I wouldn't be able to live with myself if I knowingly put myself in a boot and on crutches two weeks from tomorrow for the rest of the summer.  

Part of me feels like I have wasted everything.  So much time down the drain.  So many miles, pointless now.  

But I'm trying to remember that every run has a reason.  I have a crap ankle right now, but I've got some serious fitness and am leaner than I have been in a while.  I know that I have gained a good amount of speed.  The runs I did were tough, mentally and physically, and I made it through them.  All of them.  

I climbed a mountain for the first time ever.  Yeah, it probably was the trigger, since the pain started the next day, and I was undertrained, and yada yada yada.  And yeah, I am effectively now learning my lesson.

But you guys, I climbed a mountain.

And HELL no, I don't regret it.

 I'm going to see what the doc says on Tuesday, but unless someone can tell me there's no chance of a rupture, then I can't do this.  I can't take that kind of a risk for something that in the long run really doesn't matter outside of my head.

So I'll cry like a good old fashioned toddler meltdown (and I see my fair share of those) because I can't have something I want, and I'll cry and get it all out until I'm exhausted from crying and need a big hug.  And instead of a blankie, please pass me a margarita.

Because tri season has officially begun, for real.  I will be spending a lot of time in the pool and on the bike now, thank you.  And I'll remember all the work I did this spring and channel it to the half marathon I'm planning on killing in September.

The TST Playlist, 12/100

This week, this has been on repeat in the car, with me singing at the top of my lungs.  Often.




I know that things can really get rough when you go it alone,
don't go thinking you gotta be tough and play like a stone


I told you about all those fears, and away they did run
You sure must be strong and you feel like an ocean made warm by the sun

The Ankle Games

It's like the Hunger Games.  And my left achilles is Katniss.

Hopefully it will make it to the end, too.

Haven't ran since Sunday, which means I've been on a steady diet of carbs and feeling sorry for myself.  It feels much better than it did on Monday, and my students have gotten a kick out of me wearing an ice pack on my ankle during lectures.  I went to see my ART guy today and he was positive, but still realistic.  When I told him Coach E wanted me to run 45 easy, then assess and if I felt good do 45 more with some 3 minute pushes, he said, "Um, no.  I don't want you to do that."

Sigh.

He thinks we can still get to the race, though.  There's definitely the start of some issues/injury, but he thinks I can still do it.  I'm heading back Tuesday for some more work on it.

I just hate to think I've come so far for nothing.  But I know it's not nothing...I've built up some great fitness and there will always be another race.  I know.

But it sure doesn't make it feel better.

Trying to stay positive over here...gonna meet my superawesome friend Laura tomorrow morning for a nice easy 45 with maybe a trainer ride after as suggested by Coach E.  And I'm trying to remember that I've done all my long runs, all my hard runs, everything is in the bank.  I just thought I could put a few more deposits in before I needed to withdraw, but hopefully I've got enough saved up to get me there.

Oh Crap Times Infinity

Well, since TN, I've been hiding a little secret.

My left achilles has been a little wonky.  Not serious, just a little strange.  A slight dull ache.

Now it's definitely barking at me.  And I know a lot is due to my inability to ever stretch or sit down, pretty much ever, in my current life stage.  But I also know that 5 1/2 hours of riding hills and climbing a mountain in 36 hours was NOT. SMART.  Very fun, but not smart.  At all.  And I knew it the week I got back, but I was pretending it was fine.

Now Coach E says she's not sure I can race, since this is nothing to mess with.

To say I am bummed is an understatement.

Made an emergency call to Dr. Zak for some ART and am currently alternating between resting, icing, swearing, and crying.

So any positive vibes would be greatly appreciated.  I'm running better than I ever have in my entire life.  And to think I might not be able to race, well...talk about adding insult to injury.  That's more like adding a punch in my face to injury.

Sending up some good-ankle-y prayers,

TST

In case you were wondering

Walking around and chasing two sprinting kids at the Zoo and then calling lunch a Clif Bar before your long run does not make for a happy last 3.5 miles.

I felt SO! AWESOME! for the first 9 miles and then DIEDIEDIE the last 3.5 or so were rather humbling.  I collapsed in a heap on the floor and was too tired to move or even protest the 467,406,195th episode of Diego playing.

But--the good news is that I managed 12.5 miles with an average pace of 8:46.  I was pretty consistent in the laps, too, even though the last few really sucked.  So if we're trying to do those 45-60 seconds slower than race pace, we're good.  I really felt like I was going easy, too, which is pretty awesome.

I am curious to see where I am on the scale because I can definitely tell my clothes are looser.  I'm wondering if I'm down to "fighting weight" yet.  I might check this week if I'm feeling really daring.

Speaking of daring, our school is doing a fundraiser for the superawesome charity, Girls With Sole.  It's founded by an amazingly inspiring woman named Liz who is pretty much the most positive person I've met.  So when our school signed up to do a class fundraiser contest, I was all, HECK YEAH!  But the trouble is that our kids have been donated-to-death this year with several contests and donations were slow.  So, a colleague of mine decided to up the ante:  if a class can raise at least $100, then she will wear her old skool prom dress ALL DAY.

Of course, my kids came to me asking--nay, DEMANDING--that I participate, too.  Um.  Yeah.  I guess so.  Even though I love calling attention to myself about as much as I enjoy country music and gouging my eyes out with spoons.

So, of course, one class has already hit $50!  Which is great.  Except that it means that I might actually have to do this.

In case you're wondering, it was 1995, blue sequins, ridiculously tacky, and according to Jackson, makes me look like a mermaid.

The bright side?  All these intervals and race pace runs have--wait for it--made this dress TOO BIG. It's seriously too freaking big!  Which is beyond awesome, because it's supposed to be tight and if I had to wear it as intended there ain't no way I was going to do this.

So, it looks like I'll be the 1995 tacky mermaid in room 221 sometime soon.  All in the name of a good charity, at least!

Less than 3 weeks until race day--gulp!  Giddyup.

Evotri Team Camp, Chattanooga, 2012

...was so awesome that I have so much to say about it.

And absolutely no time to say it.  None.  I give up.

So I'm going to defer to the team site and to JP's site for some awesome recaps.  Me Circa 2006 never would do that.  But me circa 2012 needs to.  How did I blog almost every day for 2 years?  Oh yeah...I actually had some spare time...someday, I'm sure I will again, too.

But for now I'm surviving until May 11th when I get to come up for air a bit.

So check out their amazing reports full of tons of pictures and great stuff!  Let's just say it was WAY better than any race, hands down. I wuvz my teammates!  They are all amazing.  Sure wish they could meet me for a ride or run more than once a year!

Gonna keep training as hard as I can--will post when I can!

Heading to the light at the end of the tunnel,

TST

Mother Nature is a Snide, Conniving (W)itch

...YET, I think she might know a little something, because if I can pull that off today, then I can definitely pull it off come race day.

The short:  I made it--kind of.  Last push I dug as deep as I could but couldn't get below 8.  I'm not going to dwell, though, because it's still 50 minutes at (or near) race pace and given the conditions, it was a huge mental boost for me.

The long:

Got up early and worried about the run. (Standard)

Made myself a new playlist heavy on the hip-hop/rap, and lots of old stuff.  Tupac, Biggie, Dre, etc.  Basically all the things I listened to growing up as a suburban kid on the streetz.

Started:  20 minutes easy, averaged 9:00 for each one.

Oh boy.

#1:  Holy crap, it's WARM!  Warmwarmwarm!  I'm dying.  (It was about 42 degrees, BTW).  WHYdo I do this?!  I know I'm a sweat monster and ball of nastiness when I run hard.  LEARN for race day--UNDERDRESS.  I MUST go home and change.  But what if I wake up the kids?  Accckkkkkk that will be DEFCON 1 as Matt will then have to deal with them yelling for me not to go.  The guilt, or an appropriately-dressed outfit?! (Yes, all these things ran through my head during push #1)

I ran past the house.  Dashed in and silently changed into shorts and a light long-sleeved T.

Aahhhhhh.  Much better.

Pace :  7:59 (squeaked in!)

2 minute recovery:  ahhhhh.

#2:  Okay, this isn't so bad!  Glad I changed.  Definitely needed to change.  Hope they are all still asleep....

Pace:  7:56 (nice!)

2 minute recovery

#3:  Hmmm.  It's getting colder, but I still feel okay in this.  Kinda wishing I had taken the Claritin though.  Must do that on race day.  Starting to hurt a little, but doable.

Pace:  7:58

Took a GU here.  Noticed I was tired when I stopped to get it from my belt.

Turned around....into SERIOUS wind.  Hmm.  Okay, now it's definitely on.

2 minute recovery

#4:  Ouch.  This hurts.  This is farther than I went before when I did 4 miles with Laura.  Ouch.  Ouchouchouchouch.  I'd like to be done now, please.

Pace:  7:56

2 minute recovery

#5:  That was my last Cherry Roctane Gu so I'd better make this push worth it.  Is this push worth $2?  Because that's what one of those damn things costs.  So I'd better not wuss out and make this push worth AT LEAST TWO DOLLARS.

What the--is that freezing rain?!  YOU CANNOT BE SERIOUS.  I can't see in front of me, sleet is hitting my face, and I'm running into what feels like a wall of wind.  Yeah, it's the last one allright!  Grow a pair and RUN, NOW!

Ouch.  Ouchouchouch I'm cold and it's wet and this hurts.  I'm digging as deep as I can but I just don't feel like I'm moving.  I put my head down and just counted steps and blasted some Eminem.

Pace:  8:09  Ugh.  I swear that's all I had.  But that concludes 50 minutes at (or a teensy bit above) race pace.  Boo-yah.  I should also add that I killed some intervals earlier this week, so this was a good week of pushing it on the run.

Cooled down for 20 minutes and had to (of course) make it an even 12 miles (because I'm OCD like that) and ended up with 12 miles in 1:43.14.  Average pace of 8:36/mile.  YEEEEE-AH.

Walked in the door to find that Matt had made chocolate chip strawberry pancakes, done a load of laundry, and loaded/turned on the dishwasher.  He's kind of the best husband ever.

As soon as I get my hands on some pics from Chattanoooooooga, I'm going to post 'em!  For now--I am going to drink some tasteeee coffee.

And try to warm up.  Nice try, Mother Nature.  You gotz nuthin' on me.

I have a run tomorrow.

It will be hard.

Like, really hard.

Like, one of those ones that make me gulp, "Is she serious?"

And this week has been pretty hard, too.  So I've got a lot of pent-up energy ready to go.

Here's what I'll be doing:

20 minutes warm-up
5X10 minutes at RP with 2 minutes EZ in between
Cool down for a total of 1:40

Wow.

WOW.

That's hard.

But I'm strangely excited.  Bring it.



I don't like PowerBars.  But I do like the message they've got here.

I swear I'll tell you ASAP!

So last weekend I went to Chattanooga, TN, with my superawesome Evotri teammates.  And it was AMAZING.  Seriously--I had so, so SO much fun with the team and our fabulous sponsors, Quintana Roo and HUB Endurance.  I pretty much was either laughing, eating, riding ridiculous amounts of hills, or eating s'mores the entire weekend.

So I promise I'll tell you all about it as soon as I get a second--and some good pictures!--cuz this week was NUTS.  It involved two Emergency Room trips, thankfully both ending well, plus one dose of stomach flu in my house.  Awesome.  And the countdown is on my blackboard:  16 school days until the AP exam.   Can you say, "TST-hasn't-slept-more-than-4-hours-all-week?"  Yeah, because that's about it.  I am basically operating on newborn-status haze.

Anyway, I'll leave you with this awesomeness that I heart for three reasons:

1.  It fuels my love of all things Summer Olympics

2.  It reminds me of all those swim meets, all those softball games, and all those practices my parents drove to and watched me in from age 3 until age 18...at nights, early morning, on the weekends, in the boonies, sometimes losing 42-3 (no joke) and sometimes with me bringing home the blue ribbons.  Thanks, Mom and Dad. :)

3.  It reminds me how awesome the mommy journey is

Well-played, P&G.  Well-played.

The TST Playlist, 11/100

I would like to thank this song for having all my "5K pace pushes" today be under 7:00/mile pace.  A girl can dream, right?

So I totally do not condone most of the things Rihanna is doing in this video, but this song kind of makes me feel like I'm one of Bug's toy trains that he has to pull back and you hear the click-click-click of the wheels and then when he lets it go WHOOOOOOOOSH, off it goes!

Yeah, that was me tonight.