Changing Plans, Keeping Goals

My running and my overall fitness had been progressing pretty well. I picked a #FITfor40 goal - a super hilly 50K in San Francisco the weekend before my 40th birthday - and I was starting to build up mileage. I decided to run the Garry Bjorklund half marathon back in mid-June because it's fun, easy, and a great way to get in some decent miles. Unfortunately, around mile 5 I tweaked my left hamstring. It was pretty unexpected, even though I've had problems in the past. This is not a new injury or issue for me. It's something I've struggled with since I first tore a hamstring (my right) in the 10th grade in the middle of a 100 meter dash at the conference meet. Then, 4 years, later, as a sophomore in college, I tore the other one (my left) in the middle of an indoor 55 meter dash. That one ended my sprinting and soccer playing days. Since that time, as I've become a "jogger" and increased my distances from 5K to 50 miles, I've struggled with hamstring issues on and off. But never anything as extreme as what happened to me in high school and college when I hurt them while sprinting. Well, apparently, 39 is the age when it all goes to hell.

Photo from the Section 7AA meet in 1995. I tore my right hamstring in the middle of a race at the Conference meet, just two weeks or so before this photo from Sections. I thought I was done for the season. I rehabbed with only pool training between Conference and Sections, and then the athletic trainer rigged up that wrap that's on my leg with therapy bands and ace bandages. It worked. Not only could I race, but I qualified for the state meet!

I muscled through the half marathon with an aching hamstring. It was unpleasant, and we had to run pretty slowly, but we made it. And, honestly, the next day I felt fine. I babied it for about a week and wasn't too worried about it. Whew, I thought...dodged a bullet there. Well, not so fast. A couple weeks after Grandma's I was running an evening trail run at Hartley with a friend, and tripped over a root. It wasn't a massive trip. I didn't fall. But I felt my left hamstring tweak again. I tried to keep going, but eventually we had to walk it in. This one felt much worse than what happened at Grandma's. I was sidelined again.

Throughout this time, I've been more or less attending my interval and strength training classes at the gym and doing one session each week with my personal trainer. And I've been running short little 3 and 4 mile runs. And the leg has been okay. Not perfect. But also didn't seem to be getting worse. I had a 1/2 mile trail marathon over in Solon Springs, WI  (just about 45 minutes from home) on the calendar last Sunday, and I decided to go give it a try. I went in with the plan to just take it slow, hike all of the hills, and just cover the distance. And, for the first 4.5 miles, it went very well. I barely felt the hamstring. I felt my lack of fitness more than anything, but my body felt fine. Until mile 4.5 when I encountered another root. It was the exact same stumble I had at Hartley. Right foot gets caught on a root, left hamstring "snaps" (for lack of a better word) as I try to catch my balance. This one was bad. I immediately knew I'd screwed up by attempting this race. But with a 50K on the calendar in mid-November, I was running out of time to get my training in. I felt like I just had to give it a try.

It was a long walk from mile 4.5 to the turnaround at the 6.5 mile mark where, mercifully, I was able to get a ride back to the finish. I had a lot of thoughts and feelings on that walk. Pain, anger, frustration, resignation, acceptance, and, eventually, I was ready to reevaluate and reexamine my goal.

To celebrate my 40th birthday, I had a goal to do something epic and physically challenging. I chose a 50K trail race with over 6000 feet of elevation gain. (That's as much elevation gain as I had in the 50 mile race I did for my 35th birthday!) To make it more fun, I've invited 5 friends to join me in San Francisco to make it a fun, long weekend. We are all participating in some sort of running event as part of the North Face Endurance Challenge. It's a pretty cool event - I learned about it when I volunteered at their event in upstate New York back when I lived out East. The events have everything from 5K to 50 mile races - something for everyone. I was looking forward to a major physical and endurance challenge and a fun weekend. I am considering my options now. Given my injury, and the limited time I'll have to train, I will likely need to change to the half marathon. There's a silver lining to that, as 3 of my 5 friends that are coming are planning to do that race, with the other two doing the 5K.

So, my goal is still to continue getting into better shape than I was yesterday, and a year ago. Will I be "fit" come November? Probably not in the way that I hoped or envisioned. But all I can do is keep plugging away, and doing the best that I can with the time, resources, and body I have. This journey does not end on November 21...I know that, of course. And, as always, it's gotta be about the journey, as opposed to any sort of finite endpoint. Still, I like goals. I am a planner and I firmly believe in making plans that force me to challenge myself, get me out of my comfort zone, and most of all be the most authentic and honest version of myself that I can be. That's still my goal. New plan, new path, same ultimate goal.

Portion of the incredible and beautiful North Country trail, where my left hamstring met its latest demise last weekend. I took this while walking, rather peacefully, and making my way to the half way point so that I could hitch a ride back to the starting line. 

Back At It

I haven't posted since last August. I haven't been completely 'lax or negligent in my efforts - but I also haven't had much to blog about. I've been going to the the gym, more or less, but not really making much actual progress towards my #FITfor40 goal. That is to say: I don't think I have regressed, per se, but I also haven't progressed. I write now with the hope - the goal - that that is changing.

For starters, I've planned my #FITfor40 goal race. More on that later. It'll take place just before my 40th birthday in November.

In the meantime, I have my sights set on losing weight, strengthening up my hips and core, and very slowly, and incrementally, building back up a strong and sturdy cardiovascular system.

That's it. For now. I am back in the game, and committed to being #FITfor40.

Fierce or Foolish? A Race Report: SuperiorMan 41.5

Last time I posted, I mentioned that I had asked Julie to help me get over my fear of open water swimming. Well, there was a reason for that. The conversation before that went like this:

Me: I kinda wanna do SuperiorMan. The short course.

Julie: Oh, InferiorMan?

Me: Yeah. That one. But I haven't been swimming or biking at all, I haven't done either since last summer, and I haven't been running much.

Julie: Hmm. Well, I mean, you can complete the distance. Like, you can cover the course.

Me: Okay. I mean that would be my only goal.

And so it went. That was on June 23. I decided to do the race.

The "short course" at SuperiorMan is a 1/2 mile swim, a 35.4 mile bike, and 5.6 mile run (41.5 miles total). (The "long course" is the Half Ironman distance, 70.3 miles total).

Between that day and today, I did the following, triathlon-specific training:

• I rode my road bike twice, once for 17 miles and once for 20;
• I swam in open water three times, each time just testing it out (w/wetsuit) but not swimming for any significant distance;
• I swam laps in the pool once for 20 minutes; and
• I ran sporadically, never more than 5 miles.

That was it. That was not wise. That is not something I recommend. 

Enough background, let's get to the day.

I wasn't doing this race with anyone and no one was going with me. That's pretty normal for me - I've done most races solo. That said, my friend Christina Meier - who I know from high school (where she was a stellar swimmer) and have stayed in touch with since (to follow her path to becoming an IRONMAN) was there volunteering for the swim portion. And Mike (husband of Julie and my other trainer at Destination Fitness) and Calla, a friend from the gym, were doing a relay so they were there as well. 

If you don't know this race, you can read about it here. I won't describe how it works. But it's kinda fun and quirky and cool. Especially if you love Duluth. 

Calla and I boarded the Vista Star and headed out to the swim start. I was anxious but not particularly nervous. On our boat (which was the second of two) were the fastest swimmers for the 1/2 Ironman distance (who were swimming 1.2 miles) and all of the people doing the 41.5 distance, the slow group (me) and the fast group. We were entering the water in that order. 

The jump off of the Vista and into the water was more jarring than I was expecting. Julie prepared me, but it still knocked me a bit out of sorts. I took a second to gather myself and began to swim. For about 4 strokes. And it was exactly like the sprint triathlon I did last summer. I couldn't breathe. In or out. I just couldn't catch my breath. A dude in front of me was breast-stroking so I tried that. Nope. I was a mess. I saw a kayak and yelled for help. I was literally about 15 yards from the Vista at this point. I grabbed on and tried to calm down. I kept telling the man in the kayak: "I just can't breathe, I have asthma, I just can't breathe." He was very kind, but after a couple minutes he said: "Do you want to get on a rescue boat?" I looked at him and said: "I think so." 

And then all the thoughts went through my head. "What do I care? I didn't even train for this. This isn't a goal race. Barely anyone even knows I am doing this." 

But then I pictured my poor, lonely bike sitting in transition. (This is true, I actually did). And so I said to the man: "Let me try again." So I did. And it was awful. And I kept struggling, but I pushed my way along until I came across a nice woman in a kayak. She became my new best friend. At least for the next half hour or so. I hung on with her for a bit, gathered myself, and swam. And she followed me. And I hung on with her for a bit, and gathered myself, and swam. She was great. Quiet. She didn't say much. Except when I looked at her with sad, embarrassed eyes and kept saying: "I just can't breathe" she would say: "You're doing great. You're gonna get there." She was with me until I entered the slip that led to the end of the swim portion of the race. (For those not familiar with the sport, it is within the rules to hang onto a kayak or boat or really anything at any time while in the water as long as you don't make forward progress). 

And so it went.

When I was between the two buoys that marked the turnaround point for the 1/2 mile swim course, I had stopped and yelled for help (again) and my kayak friend was working her way over to me. I was treading water and I heard someone yell: "IS THAT SARA??"

It was Christina.

Me (yelling): "Ugh. [expletive I can't remember]! Yes, it's me. I can't breathe! This is awful!

Christina: "But you're doing it!!?"

Me: "Am I, though? Am I??? I keep holding on!"

Christina: "That's okay you're out here and you're doing it!"

Me: "I'm a mess!"

Christina: "You're amazing!"

Christina was very excited for me. She should be a motivational speaker. 

Background: I have been talking to Christina about wanting to do triathlons for years. Since 2012, I think. But it's never quite come together - and then I did that first sprint Tri last summer and bombed epically. I'd been texting her all week about how to prepare for this damn thing. Anyway, she had context, she knew this was a huge challenge for me, and also a huge dream. And she was proud. In the moment, though, I was not. 

I muddled through the rest of the swim like that, and I finished. How slow was I? Let's just say that all of the people doing the 1.2 mile swim that started with me? They beat me. But, I didn't quit. And I got there. Now? Onto the bike.

The bike was by far my favorite part of this race. Even though I baaaaarely know how to operate my road bike. I am not fast on the bike, but I like that you can just kinda kick back and decide how hard you want to work. For me, today, that was a gift. I spun along the course at a comfortable pace and I completed it. Now, it was no small task. Before today I'd probably been on my road bike no more than a dozen times. Total. Ever. I am still scared to clip in and out of the pedals. And, before today, I had never, ever, ridden this bike, or any bike, more than 20 miles. But it never felt long. It was quiet and private and the lake was beautiful as always. I finished the 35.4 miles and, as compared to the swim exit, I felt pretty fierce.

I got back to transition and Christina cheered me in and met me near my stuff. I changed into my running shoes and noticed that the bottom plate on one of my bike shoes had come almost completely off. Apparently I really WAS feeling zen out on the bike! I had no idea until I took off the shoe.

Anyway, the run. So, this is the part that's actually my sport. This is what I do. It was 5.6 miles. I ran 40 miles once. But, of course, that was not without training. And not after 35 miles on the bike.

OUCH! Sweet Jesus. This run was unpleasant. 

My quads rebelled like nothing I've ever felt before - including when I ran that 50 (40) miler on killer hills and technical terrain. So, I ran/walked it. Some people go into a race planning to do that. I defaulted to it and felt fine about it. I ran a little, I walked a little, and so on.

And, after all was said and done, I finished. I wasn't last. I almost was. And if I had been? Meh. I finished. Such as it was. 

Final thoughts:

• I AM proud that I finished...because I started, and, well, I was very close to getting on a rescue boat and calling it a day.
• I am NOT happy that I did this. It was not wise. Yes, I had the underlying fitness and innate athletic ability to complete the course. But I had no business being out there. I was presumptuous to think that I could or should do it without training. I shouldn't have. No one should.
• I had a blast today. I was in pain a lot of the time, but I loved the event. Clint Agar and Duluth Running Co. do a tremendous job putting on this race. And everyone on the race course was so kind and supportive. It was a great atmosphere. I am grateful.

What now? Well, I have to figure out if this (the swim, mainly) is a demon I want to battle or something I want to let go of while I go chase other goals. I don't know yet. Both times I've done a triathlon the swim has been extremely traumatic. Terrifying, really. That said, in talking to other triathletes, I know my experience isn't abnormal. I also haven't ever really trained, or practiced, swimming. So to write it off now might be a bit premature. And also a lame excuse.

Anyway, I march on with my plan to be #FITfor40. I honestly do not know what's next, other than continuing to show up for classes with Julie and Mike. Stay posted. 

Here are some shots from the day:

Transition Area a Dawn

I really "tore it up" on the bike course!

Bike to Run Transition

Almost there!

Yay! A friend! (Thanks Christina!)

The Finish