The Importance of the Potty Break Routine

Tri season #5 is now in the books for me. I did three tri’s this year, finishing up at Hickory Grove Aug. 29.

In reality I only did two triathlons because Hickory Grove got switched to a duathlon. I found out the day before the race that they had cancelled the swim due to high ecoli counts. The Department of Natural Resources issues a warning when ecoli counts rise above 126 ecoli colonies per 100 ml of water and again when it reaches 235. The count at Hickory Grove was 790, or over three times the limit considered safe by the Iowa DNR. I definitely did not want to be in that water!

My race buddy, Brita, wasn’t too excited about this change in plans. She was having hip/hamstring issues and did not want to do two runs. I was in training for a marathon (and also not a very good swimmer) so I liked the idea of a duathlon. I suddenly felt much less stress!

As we waited for our run “wave” to start we joked with our fellow MWXers how a duathlon totally changed our pee schedule! We all pretty much had a routine of peeing in the water before the race. That was replaced by running to the porta-potty and hoping you didn’t miss the start of your wave!

We began with a 1-mile run, followed by a 15.5 mile bike and then a 2.1 mile run. I was in one of the last waves to begin so there weren’t that many people on the course as I finished. To entertain myself during the final run I counted the number of people I passed—seven in total. I don’t know that I was any faster, but marathon training had given me better endurance.

I did one more running race before my Nov. 6 marathon. I decided to do the Indian Summer 10-Mile as a training run. It’s a trail run around Lake McBride. I thought it would be no problem since I had run 18 miles the weekend before.

I guess I got caught up in the adrenalin and went out too fast in the first two miles. The marathon is all about pacing so I was disappointed that I made a mental mistake like that. Once I entered the woods I had trouble breathing. I don’t know if I was allergic to something, but I struggled the rest of the race.

Did you ever have that dream where you are racing and they shut down the course? Well, I have. As I came up on the last water stop I found that they had already packed up. Normally I would be wearing my fuel belt with water bottles on a 10-mile run, but I thought there would be adequate water. Knowing you can’t have something makes you want it more, so I suddenly felt dehydrated. This was not a good day!

On the last mile Jody, my coach and mentor, appeared to help run me in. I literally felt like my body could not run at all. What was happening to me? I was six weeks out from my marathon so this really upset me.

I finished and they gave me a gift certificate or what I called “The Loser Award.” They had already handed out the race awards and much of the parking lot was empty. I went into the bathroom to change into warm clothes, but it felt more like I was hiding. I was really down on myself.

I had to shake it off, chalk it up to a bad run and move on. I guess that’s what “keep tri-ing” is all about! Whether it’s a bad race, an injury or some other type of setback, we just have to get up, dust ourselves off and keep going!!

Twinkie Training at the Bix

My annual Bix 7 race became known as BixBRAI this year because it was also the final leg of the RAGBRAI bike ride. It was billed as “the largest one-day, on-site gathering of sports participants in Iowa history.”

As much as I love my fellow cyclists, I was not excited that nearly 20,000 bikers would be joining 15,000 runners in Davenport on July 30. I envisioned a nightmare of trying to get out of town after the race.

I found out something else…being honest about your finishing time color-codes you. I was aware before that I had a sticker on my bib that designated where I started the race. I found out, however, that they won’t even let you into the other color areas. “I just want to use the porta potty,” I told the “color-code police” as they guarded the entrance to the orange area. The lady shook her head and pointed down the street to the blue area, designated by someone holding a blue balloon.

As I walked away I gazed longingly at the porta-potties with the short lines, just three feet into the orange area. In the blue area the lines were long, like we were the bottom of the running barrel. We barely ranked above walkers. I was not feeling love from the Bix.

It was a warm day, and not wanting to repeat my heat-related illness at Pigman, I decided to take it easy. We were soon heading up Brady Street Hill. One thing I like about the Bix—the sameness. I know the gospel choir is going to be in the same spot as I head up hill (and return down it) and they always give me a boost with their music.

I was making sure I stayed hydrated. There were some frat boys on the side of the street, handing out beer. I didn’t think beer would be a good thing to drink while running! On the way back they would have a slip-and-slide set up. Slide on your belly and get a jello shot! Again, not part of my training diet.

As I reached the turnaround I knew I needed a bathroom break. I was so paranoid about becoming hydrated, I had made double sure I downed plenty of water. There was a line, but I already knew this was not going to be a PR day so no sense worrying about it. Nevertheless, I could feel myself counting off the minutes I was losing in my head.

I was off again, looking for the spot on the course where they hand out baggies of ice cubes. The ice cubes were gone, but I accepted a Popsicle instead. The frozen treat still cooled me off. I had read something about drinking something cold before a race to lower body temperature. That’s my story and I’m sticking to it!

I passed a runner who was performing karaoke. Apparently, she didn’t realize that when you sing out loud to your ipod, people can hear you! At mile 6 I saw it—the Hostess truck handing out Twinkies. It’s another fixture of the Bix and one I normally pass by, but this year felt different. I was making stops and sucking on Popsicles, so why not throw caution to the wind and take a Twinkie?!

There I was, running down Brady Street Hill as I stuffed a Twinkie in my mouth. My head was saying “this is not on the training diet!” while my body was loving the sugar! I may have to add Twinkies to the training regimen.

I've Got To Be A Part Of It...NYC Marathon!

Ah, the dog days of summer…for me that means taking a break from tri’s for a couple months. My next tri is Aug. 28, which is probably good, since I don’t do well in the heat.

My big news (as some of you know) is that I got into the New York City Marathon! I don’t know how I got so lucky, but apparently the running gods want me to take on 26.2 miles again!

It was during a moment of insanity last January (when my brain had blocked out all memories of the pain I had endured in my first marathon) that I entered the lottery for the NYC. It was the one race I had always wanted to do. I love New York and the idea of running through all the boroughs in the nation’s biggest marathon was exciting to me. I really didn’t expect to get in. People wait years to do this race. I knew if you got rejected three years in a row then you got automatic entry the next year. I didn’t know if I would want to run a marathon four years from now (I’m old, you know) but I figured I would get the ball rolling.

Second on my list of marathons was the Marine Corps Marathon in Washington, D.C. I wouldn’t find out about New York until April and sign-up for the Marine Corps was in February. I signed up and made it in, despite the fact the race sold out in 28 hours! I was pretty excited…you get to run by all these monuments, finishing at the Iwo Jima Memorial, where a Marine puts a medal around your neck!

Well, April comes and I find out I made it into New York! How lucky can I be?! I had a decision to make. I decided to defer the Marine Corps to 2012 and do my dream race. It would mean undergoing months of training, lost Saturdays doing long runs and plenty of ice baths! Was I really choosing to do this?!

Biking and swimming are good cross-training for runners so I still felt I could do a couple more triathlons this season. It would take focus and adhering to a strict schedule, but I was ready to take on the challenge!

My most recent race was the Fifth Season 8K on July 4. There was much consternation from some runners when they changed the race route due to construction downtown. I realize people have been doing this race for 25 years, but five miles is five miles. Do you think the Kenyans care where they run?

The route traveled from the Chrome Horse Saloon down Otis Road. There were lots of water stops, my favorite thing at any race! The race started at 7 AM (I also appreciate an early start in the summertime) and we would be running separately from the 5K runners (wimps, as I call them…just kidding).

I enjoyed the race, even when I got beat by Sophie the Gaddis dog and a stroller containing a baby named Sebastian. (Seriously, I’m getting beat by someone named Sebastian? Shouldn’t he be home playing the piano?!).

The race finished up at the Chrome Horse. My race bib contained drink tickets. I didn’t think I would want a beer at 8:30 in the morning, but it tasted kind of good!

As a side note to last month’s incident at the Pigman Tri, I am feeling good so it’s full steam ahead!

The Most Dramatic Pigman Ever!

It was the most dramatic Pigman Tri ever! (I had to take that from “The Bachelorette” TV show.) I ended the race in an ambulance. I think I just wanted something exciting to write about!

It was a beautiful day for a race and I felt confident I would have my best swim ever. I had been working hard in the off-season on my technique. I started out well until someone swam on top of me. I briefly stopped to let them pass before thinking, “Wait a minute! I have just as much right to this water as anyone else! This is MY space!”

As I did the turnaround I went wide to avoid traffic. I got myself in a zone and kept swimming with no interference. There was no traffic because I was about 20 feet from the buoys! I had to bring it back in.

I was out of the water and huffing and puffing up the hill. Where had my endurance gone? MWXer Leah was behind me and called out to me. I reached back and gave her a high-five.

I was off on the bike. My bike computer wasn’t working, which threw my whole mojo off. I felt lightheaded and I struggled up the final hill. Back in transition I felt disoriented. Carrie (also a club member) found me. “Do you need some GU?” she asked. I knew I needed something and said yes. She said she would meet me. Carrie ran back to her bike and stuffed some Gu’s in my hand as I headed out of transition. I wasn’t sure if that was considered “outside assistance” and would be a penalty, but I felt a little out of it at that point.

The day was heating up. About a mile into the run I felt my chest tighten and I started to wheeze. I couldn’t get a breath in. It was terrifying that I was fighting to breathe. What was happening? Was I having a heart attack? An asthma attack? The water stop was coming up and I wondered if I should tell the volunteers to call for help. As a stubborn triathlete, I was determined to finish so I started walking.

I tried to run, but I knew something wasn’t right. I started to dread the finish because I knew my tri club would see me. I was embarrassed and knew I had to run it in. I crossed the finish line and immediately began searching for a medical tent. Brita appeared (she always seems to be there to take care of me!) and took me over to the ambulance. I started getting emotionally upset so I was having trouble getting any words out. All I could blurt out was “my chest” as I put my hand over my heart.

They took me into the ambulance and had me lie down. I thought I felt the ambulance move. “You’re not taking me anywhere, are you?!” I asked, suddenly fearful of the cost of going to the emergency room. “Are you having chest pains?” the two guys asked. I said no and they told me to lie down and relax.

They put oxygen tubes in my nose and hooked me up to a heart monitor. When I was finally able to calm down, I explained what happened on the course. They took my blood pressure, chccked my oxygen levels and pricked my finger to test my blood sugar. “When did I eat? What did I eat? Was this my first triathlon?” So many questions!

They said everything appeared normal. I was starting to feel better in the cool air of the ambulance. “Whoa,” the one guy said at the heart monitor. “You just converted.” I had no idea what that meant, but apparently my heart rate suddenly dropped. I explained that sometimes my heart rate spikes for brief periods. “You should get that checked out by your doctor,” he said.

I told them I felt better and they said to come back if I had any more problems. I was feeling embarrassed again…I couldn’t even do a sprint tri without ending up in an ambulance! I needed food so I walked up and grabbed a slice of pizza, oblivious to the fact that there was a large group of people standing in line! I was still feeling a little lightheaded, but I started rehydrating and went off to join my club.

A follow-up EKG with my doctor and a chest x-ray (looking for an enlarged heart) didn’t find anything wrong. My doctor thinks I got dehydrated. I don’t know what happened to me on the course…if I was dehydrated or I breathed in something that caused some type of attack, but I hope I never have to experience that again! Right now I have electrodes hooked to my chest and an activity monitor, trying to capture what my heart does when it goes crazy. I don’t know what the future holds, but until someone tells me different, I’m going to keep on tri-ing!

My Worst Tri Ever

Normally the June Pigman is my first tri of the year, but I decided to throw caution to the wind and do one on May 22. I was signing up for Hickory Grove (held in August) and saw that I could get a discount if I signed up for the Bluff Creek Triathlon too. It seemed like a good idea at the time…

I always try to do a new race each year so I don’t get in a rut. Bluff Creek had both sprint and Olympic distances (I did the sprint). I was excited to try something different, but it would turn out to be my worst tri ever. It was one of those days where nothing went right.

The Friday before the race the water temp was 54 degrees and race officials said wetsuits were mandatory. If it got colder they might cancel the swim. They said we could wear neoprene booties and beanies, but somehow that seemed wimpy to me. I would have to tough it out.

The Bluff Creek Tri was held at a county park about 10 miles west of Boone, IA. I drove down that Saturday so I could check out the course. My hotel in Boone didn’t have an alarm clock so off I went to Walmart. My cell phone was my back-up, but I always like to have two alarms. In the four-plus years I have been racing I have never needed an alarm to wake up on race day, but I didn’t want this to be the first time I overslept. I found out there wouldn’t be much sleep anyway…Boone has a race track and I could hear the sound of racecars as I tried to sleep.

That morning I headed out to the park, not knowing if I would be swimming. They had reduced the Olympic swim to a sprint and lifted the wetsuit requirement (who wouldn’t wear a wetsuit?!), but I would have to brave water temps in the mid-50’s.

The swim was a point-to-point so they would be bussing us to the beach. I was on the first bus, shortly after 7. I’m not a last-minute person when it comes to triathlons. I like to arrive before transition opens and have plenty of time to warm up before the swim starts. A small group of us got to the beach first. Something made me look down and I realized I had forgotten to pick up my timing chip! I ran up the hill, but of course, the bus had left. I had to wait for the next bus and then ride back to transition.

I must have been quite the sight, running in a wetsuit to the registration table, grabbing my chip and running back to the buses. By now there was a long line of people and transition was closing. All that time in the wetsuit had overheated me, but there was no time to get a drink. I got on the last bus, now in full panic. I told myself that I had gotten the bad stuff out of the way. It had to get better, right?

I got to the beach about five minutes before start time. I barely had time to do my pre-race pee break! They recommended getting in the water so the cold wasn’t a shock to our systems. I was in the second wave and soon we were off.

I tried not to think about the cold water and the chaos around me. My sighting must have been off because I wound up right next to one of the buoys—the last place you want to be during a tri! I’m pretty sure an expletive escaped my lips as the next wave of men was on top of me. They were on me like a swarm of bees with nowhere to escape. Someone grabbed my leg and pulled me under and suddenly I was swallowing water. I came up, choking and fighting for breath. I literally stopped and just sat there, bobbing on the surface. Swimmers were going by me, but I felt frozen, disoriented. I saw one of the volunteer boaters looking at me, which snapped me out of it. “You’re not pulling me,” I said and I resumed the swim. I had to end the swim by running up a slippery boat landing, followed by a long trek to transition.

My frozen hands struggled with the wetsuit. I had to sit down in transition to get it off (a big no-no in my book). By now I had resigned myself to the fact that this would not be my day. I was off on the bike course, which was an out-and-back on a county road. Wow, I am really flying! I wondered why the bikes going in the other direction were moving so slowly. Several people were walking their bikes and I saw one guy let out a loud grunt as he headed up a small incline. I would soon find out why. As soon as I made the turnaround I slammed into a giant wall of wind. It practically stopped me in my tracks. “This is going to suck,” I said.

For the next seven miles I fought the wind, averaging 8-9 mph, scanning the horizon for the park entrance. Never has a bike ride seemed so long. At one point I was drafting off another girl because I didn’t have the strength to go by her. The “law-abiding citizen” in me, however, didn’t want to break the rules (although a two-minute penalty would hardly matter at this point) so I passed her. By the end I was hurting and the last thing I wanted to do was run three miles.

The first portion of the run was on park trails, which by now had turned to mud. The hilly run continued on pavement inside the park. I took a bottle of Gatorade with me because I didn’t hydrate much on the bike, for fear of taking my hands off the handlebars and getting blown over. For the first mile my hands were still tingling from my death grip on the bike. My race belt came undone (could anything else go wrong?) so I started to walk as I fixed it.

“No walking, Green,” yelled out an ISU runner. “You’re strong! You got this!” It motivated me to push on. The Olympic competitors were all doing two loops on the course so I didn’t feel alone. I saw my “green team”—my fellow MWXers—and they called out support to me.

Finally I was back on the trails and finishing. It would be my worst time for a tri, but under better conditions I think I would really enjoy this course. The post-food included mini Snickers and Twix bars so life was good. I hung around with the rest of the MWX club, sharing our experiences that day.

I headed back and unbeknownst to me, drove through a tornado warning 30 miles outside of Cedar Rapids. It seemed fitting for the “stormy” day I had just experienced. I think the tough races, the ones that don’t go your way, can be just as satisfying. They force you to find that mental toughness it takes to succeed in this sport. And they make you want to keep tri-ing!

Running Nearly Naked

Someone mentioned to me that I haven’t written anything about the “Nearly Naked Mile” I ran last month. I didn’t think a one-mile run was worth mentioning, but I guess the lack of clothing made it rather interesting.

Julie Johnston, a fellow member of the CVRA running club, had talked me into doing this race. It was a one-mile run at the University of Iowa where you donated your clothes to the Salvation Army. It sounded like fun…combining running and being nearly naked. Throw in some ice cream and it would be the perfect day.

We drove down with two other runners. Could we have picked a colder day? Wind chills were in the 20’s so I kept my clothes on as long as I could. About 15 minutes before the race I stripped down to a bikini bottom, sports bra and a rabbit fur cap.

Most of the competitors were college students, the only ones who are probably crazy enough to run without clothes! Julie was up front with the fast runners and I found my place at the back with my appropriate “pace group” i.e. college students who were still hung over from the night before. Next to me was a group of guys in cut-off shorts, cowboy hats and boots with clothing made from beer case boxes. At least they were creative.

The race was off. All I cared about at this point was finishing as quickly as possible so I could put clothes on! I’m sure the college students were wondering what this old lady was doing out there. The redneck boys ran by me, complaining about how much it hurt to run in cowboy boots.

My Dad’s rabbit fur cap is about 50 years old and it sheds. I could feel the fur flying in my mouth. Where’s the water stop? I guess one-mile races don’t have breaks. A girl in lingerie ran by me. Is that legal? On the final block a dog went by me. He had a fur coat so he was obviously overdressed.

At the finish line I grabbed some hot chocolate and found my friends. Julie was her usual upbeat self, but I just wanted to build a campfire right by the student union. It would be a while before feeling returned to my body.

On to other things…It’s April now so time to crank up the training. It’s been tough to run. I have a bunion on my foot that has bothered me since last year. I had surgery on my right foot nine years ago, but I never did my left and it keeps screaming at me. I should have had surgery last winter and now it’s too late in the season. I will just have to suck it up and push through.

I’m doing a 10K race in less than two weeks and my first tri of the season is next month. Both of these fall under the category of “What was I thinking?!” I’ve been doing some three-mile jogs so don’t know that I am ready for a 10K, but sometimes putting a race on the schedule can make me push myself in training. I’ve never done a tri in May before and since temps have been below normal for weeks, I’m dreading that lake water. That race will probably be closer to a “polar plunge” than a triathlon. Oh well, have to keep tri-ing...

My First Swim Meet

I have a reoccurring nightmare that I am late to a triathlon and I miss the start. Sometimes I am stuck in transition or I forget something. Maybe that’s why I always show up several hours early to a triathlon.

That nightmare came true at my first swim meet when I missed one of my races! More on that later…I had my first race of the year at the Freezefest 5K on Feb. 26. Dressed in a MWX green running shirt and Ninja Turtle boxers, I ran with fellow club member Brita. I told her I was going to run “marathon pace”—slow and steady. My run training had been sporadic over the winter and I knew I wasn’t in running condition.

About mile two Brita wanted to kick it to the finish. I told her to go on alone. As I reached the parking lot I passed several people in one last burst of energy. A young girl came up behind me, trying to beat me. “Come on! Let’s finish strong!” I yelled to her as we sprinted to the line, my long legs just edging her. She thanked me for pushing her and I felt 2011’s first spark of competitive juice.

I signed up for the March 26 Masters State Swim Meet, knowing I would finish last, knowing I would be out there swimming by myself at the end. I had to get over my fears and I knew I needed some type of competition to push my swim training.

The final week before the meet our club practiced diving off the blocks. I had never done any diving before. Coaches Nick and John tried to teach me, but I felt such fear as I stood at the pool’s edge. My heart raced and I felt on the verge of a panic attack. I knew it was mental, but my dives turned into belly flops. We decided it would be best if I started my races in the water.

The meet was held at the University of Iowa pool. They had two 8-lane pools and this incredible facility. Even the water felt warm! We did warm-up swims and I tried to calm my nerves. I was doing the 400-Meter Relay, the very first race of the day! I guess it was for the best so I didn’t have to sit around and get more nervous.

I was racing with Dottie Gierut from MWX and swimmers Barb and Pat. They were all older than me but superior swimmers. I hoped I wouldn’t let them down. I got in the water. The buzzer went off and the other swimmers dove in. I hesitated a second…oh, the buzzer means I’m supposed to start swimming!

I swam as hard as I could, but I felt fatigue quickly. Where were the other swimmers? Oh, here they come. They had already turned around. Pretty much everything that could go wrong did…I swallowed some water and I misjudged the wall so when I reached out, I wasn’t quite there and had to make another lunge. I felt slightly disoriented; I could hear yelling. “You know you’re going to finish last,” a voice told me, “so just relax, have good form and swim hard.” I reached the end, Dottie jumped in (not landing on my head as I feared) and my teammates helped me out of the pool. “Good job,” they said. They didn’t seem mad that I put us in last place. It was all good.

I had my first swim-meet swim under my belt. I felt a sense of joy. Mentor Jody Rausch told me to stay warm, but the shaking in my legs wasn’t due to the cold. I was used to the long, steady triathlon swims. This was fast and frenzied. I could still feel the adrenaline pumping through me.

I had a wait until my next race, the 50 meters. This was the race I was looking forward to; this was going to be MY race. I knew I was in the first heat, but I wasn’t used to how quickly the races start. I was walking towards the start when I heard them announce the 50 meters. I looked up and saw everyone was already on the blocks. I started running, a voice in my head screaming “No! Wait!” I thought about just throwing on my goggles and diving into the pool (wouldn’t that have been dramatic?), but I knew I had to accept that I had screwed up. I wanted to cry, but I knew my 200 Meter Relay was coming up soon so I had to shake it off.

I was racing with Chris O’Hara, Jenny Lorenz and Ron Gierut, some of the top triathletes I know. The only thing we had in common was that we were all over the age of 40. Okay, I told myself, this will be your 50. I waited as they announced the lane assignments, but they never said our names. Ron checked with the desk, but they didn’t have us listed. Another race I wouldn’t get to do. I went and sat down, feeling utterly defeated.

I was mad at myself for missing my race, but I had to chalk it up to a learning experience. I needed to stop the pity party and go cheer on my teammates. (I found out later that another team member had missed a race so I felt a little better).

My last race was the 100 meters. I did another warm-up and made sure I was at the start in plenty of time. “Swim hard or go home,” I told myself, using the saying I had adopted from the Kennedy H.S. Swim Team. As I swam that last 25 I thought “leave it all in the pool,” just like I would do if this was a tri. Jody was there to help me out. I was a little disappointed at my time, but Jody reminded me of the “smiley face” she had drawn on her hand…this day was about having fun.

I only did two races, but I enjoyed being part of the team and I had fun. Everyone was so supportive! No one cared how fast you swam. It made me want to come back next year, stronger and faster. The more I get knocked down, the more I want to get up and be better.

I heard Ironwoman Jenny Lorenz talking to one of the coaches about how she used to only swim during tri season and now she swims year-round. I decided in that moment that I would start swimming year-round. No quitting in August or September. I didn’t just want to swim in a triathlon; I wanted to be a swimmer.