tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-58503877287207834432024-03-05T02:17:44.612-06:00Inappropriate Shoes and Other AdventuresWhen we were little, we looked to our father to provide us with wisdom, encouragement and money. When asked a question to which he did not have an immediate answer, his response was always "Do you really want to know?" and we knew his answer would be creative, if not somewhat amusing. And we never took it too seriously.
So now I ask you, do you really want to know?Carolhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03608063616153763724noreply@blogger.comBlogger21125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5850387728720783443.post-90164998889505879802011-07-11T15:22:00.007-05:002011-07-12T12:52:26.281-05:00Johnny and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day<div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><i>I originally wrote this in August of 2010 for <a href="http://love-a-bull.org/">Love-A-Bull</a>. For the record, Johnny is now 3.5 years old and weighs 75 pounds. He remains fearful of thunder- but has gotten a little better. He also shows a little more enthusiasm when I come home.</i></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">On any given day, when I come home from being gone all day, my 2.5 year old pit bull mix, Johnny, is stretched out on the sofa in complete nap mode. He’ll raise an eyebrow in my direction, maybe lift his head but he doesn't race to greet me like other dogs I’ve had.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">When I first adopted him, I thought he had separation anxiety because when I left him outside for more than three minutes, he’d begin to bark. Later, at obedience training, I expressed my concern to our trainer, the late Lee Mannix. Lee looked at Johnny, cracked a smile and said, “If you dropped his leash, what do you think he’d do?”</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">“He’d probably run up to all the dogs and people and try to play, then attempt to sniff every tree,” I replied.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">“That’s not separation anxiety. He’s being a brat and he’s testing you,” Lee said. </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Ah, good to know. I don’t have an anxious dog. I just have a bully of a bully. Don’t get me wrong, Johnny is by no means aloof or unfriendly; he just doesn’t need to be at my side every minute of the day.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">That is, unless there is thunder, which brings me to my story.</span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">A few weeks ago, I had to take Johnny to the vet to remove a benign skin growth. He had not eaten or had anything to drink since 10pm the previous night. When I picked him up in the afternoon, he was still out of sorts from the morphine and had seven stitches under his right armpit. He was hungry, a little confused and was ready for some comfort. Fortunately, due to the placement of the stitches, the vet said Johnny wouldn’t need the cone of shame (also called an e-collar). Instead, I could put an old t-shirt on him and fasten a knot in the back to keep him from going after the stitches. Perfect!</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqcPG_dNJqRmaLkI8FbonCdZgPJxveoPDIxQsH70x9UAOUnVpBRdK53SS3YU4Kr84s3dxcpRHCSURYXE47xFd27I3FRKCPAA-HWVbbXZuD5t5dH0pAae8YdLTENIwq-kUAm4E7ITn0PP0/s1600/JohnnyBadDay.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqcPG_dNJqRmaLkI8FbonCdZgPJxveoPDIxQsH70x9UAOUnVpBRdK53SS3YU4Kr84s3dxcpRHCSURYXE47xFd27I3FRKCPAA-HWVbbXZuD5t5dH0pAae8YdLTENIwq-kUAm4E7ITn0PP0/s320/JohnnyBadDay.jpg" width="239" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Pit Bulls for the Cure!</td></tr>
</tbody></table><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">So we got home and I grabbed an old Komen Race for the Cure 5K t-shirt and slipped it over his head. In the past, he’s been very tolerant of t-shirts and while this was no exception, the morphine was making him extra “chatty.” So as I pulled his forelegs through the arm holes, he groaned and moaned- like a teenager forced to change clothes before going out. I wasn’t used to all his extra vocalizations, but the doc has warned me about this, so no need to worry.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Everything was fine. Until about 7:30 p.m. - when the thunder started.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Johnny has never liked thunder and generally seeks my company when the rumbles get really close. But this time- the first distant boom had barely finished when I heard him barreling across the hardwood floors and up on the couch. With each successive boom and crack, Johnny trembled and tried to scoot up closer to my face. So picture a 65 pound pit bull in a Komen t-shirt sitting in your lap, shaking, panting hot dog-breath, alternately whining and grumbling and you have my Thursday night.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Now, I don’t try to comfort him when he does this because I don’t want to praise fearful behavior. But I do allow him to remain next to me. I’ll also talk to him- again not in a praising tone but in a conversational tone. “Boy that was a loud one, wasn’t it? Isn’t macaroni and cheese yummy? Do you want to watch some Shark Week?”</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">After a few minutes, I’ll have him get down and lay on his own bed at my feet (although if the thunder is close enough to make loud cracking noises, he’ll press himself so hard against me that I’d swear we were violating a law of physics). Johnny has escaped his crate during thunderstorms past and has actually destroyed one so I don’t crate him any longer. Instead, I have a “quiet time” spot where the crate used to be. When the thunder has moved on, I’ll have him go to his quiet time spot and relax there.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">So how does your dog react to thunder or other loud noises? How do you cope with their behavior? What has worked and what hasn’t?</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div>Carolhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03608063616153763724noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5850387728720783443.post-68031910316360805962011-02-22T13:42:00.002-06:002011-02-22T21:12:20.465-06:00Race Report for the Race that Wasn't Run - 2011 Austin Half MarathonWhen I registered for the 2011 Austin Half Marathon in September, I had no doubt that I would be in my best shape to date. After all, it was to be my launch pad for my half Ironman training for Barb's Race in late July. If I was in peak condition going into tri season, I'd be practically unstoppable come race day. Theoretically speaking.<br />
<br />
When I deferred my race entry to next year's Austin Half Marathon two weeks ago, all kinds of doubt flooded my being. This was the first time since I'd begun this multi-sport journey that I didn't race because I simply wasn't prepared. I've had setbacks due to injury but never because of attitude. And I say attitude because there really is no other reason for it. I didn't have other time commitments that got in the way. No financial reasons for not training. There were plenty of people to run with during the week- even if we ran a different paces. So what was the deal?<br />
<br />
Well, truthfully- I'm still figuring it out and that discovery may be shared at a later time. But what's more important is that even though I'm still struggling with an attitude adjustment, I'm changing my actions. If I wasn't going to race, I was going to do the next-next best thing. The next best thing would have been to volunteer, but I'm a little volunteered out. The next-next best thing was to spectate and cheer on my training buddies and friends. Even though I was unable to get myself out of bed to make my 7:30 am long runs on a consistent basis, on race morning I hopped out of bed at 6:15 am, grabbed the hound and headed downtown.<br />
<br />
It was important for me to catch both my marathon and half marathon friends so I started at Cesar Chavez and 1st Street. This way I could see both groups of runners twice potentially. As I walked toward my spot, I could see the runners running down Guadalupe I got really emotional. This is *always* my initial reaction to sporting events, whether or not I am competing. (The same goes for video of horses running in slow motion- don't judge me). But there was another layer there- shame maybe? Jealousy? Meh. Whatever. Time to move on from that crap.<br />
<br />
I was happy to see Jen, Angela and Kristy as they rounded the corner and headed to the Congress Avenue Bridge to begin their climb up S. Congress. Jen and Angela waved but Kristy had headphones on and was deep into her "race place." I don't think she saw me. When the runners began to come back down the 1st Street Bridge, I shifted my position to the west.<br />
<br />
At this stretch I saw Buffy, Missy, Megan, Donnie, Stacey, Terri, Marion, Marta, Steve, David, Rachel ... and with each passing athlete, I felt just a little more renewed. This self-imposed distance I'd placed between myself and my running began to shrink. Each wave and smile and hug pulled me closer and reaffirmed that this is where I need to be- in whatever capacity I can manage.<br />
<br />
I hopped in the car to move to my next location- the Enfield Hill. I remembered how hard this hill was when I ran the race last year and knew that I could give my friends a boost when they needed it. I yelled people up the hill, I ran people up the hill- people I didn't even know. I saw Emlea, Sarah, Brenda and Christina digging into that bastard and, after already running nearly 12 hilly miles, continue to push themselves to the top.<br />
<br />
While I didn't get to see all my friends on the course, I hopped on Facebook to read their statuses. Before the race I had avoided their posts- it was hard to share in their pre-race excitement but now I felt like I could share in their experience- I was there too!<br />
<br />
Some people had a great day, many had a rougher-than-expected race- but they are all wearing the same medal. I'm so proud of all you! And I'm so thankful to be inspired by each of you. You really have no idea how much I needed to be present on race day- in whatever shape it took. Sometimes the most important races are the races you don't run.Carolhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03608063616153763724noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5850387728720783443.post-72778184870166119792010-12-15T18:20:00.001-06:002010-12-15T18:21:00.995-06:00Las Vegas Rock n' Roll Half Marathon<div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">People go to Las Vegas for many reasons: to get married, to relax, they may be feelin' lucky. I went to run. A December half marathon in Las Vegas seemed like a fantastic idea in August. Three girlfriends and I signed up with plenty of time to train and bring our mileage up to 13.1.</div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">As it turned out, my longest long run before the race was about 7 miles or about half the distance I'd need to go. It's been tough to get motivated for the last few weeks, even with goals. Without a structured day, I find myself staying up later and sleeping through my early morning team runs- not good. And on December 5th, I was going to have to face the consequences of deficient training.</div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><b>FRIDAY - Travel Day</b></div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">We left Austin on Friday night and arrived in Las Vegas around 10:00pm. Our luggage had a craving for dungeness crab with an ocean view and took a detour to San Francisco before arriving at our hotel late Saturday morning. No worries, we were still in Las Vegas!</div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><b>SATURDAY - Expo Day</b></div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">After a big breakfast at the Monte Carlo cafe, we moseyed over to the race expo for packet pick up and shopping! It was nearly impossible to stay off your feet. They structured the expo so you had to work your way through the packet pick up line, into the Brooks store and then through the main expo. I did my best to avoid the energy bar and gel samples that were handed to me. My biggest fear on race day is what I call "rumble-tummy" (and you never thought there was a cute name for diarrhea). Two days before a race I really pay attention to my diet and do everything I can not to upset the digestion gods.</div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEja-7tUd5VueXaVzwbSDFGIwcLJnrxm8g2oCw_-aaUpSwvTbGS3gCOnZcYCsp4uP-kiHPGCARG-S1snWnGLs5hAG8RulHsDLJo7nR8QhvaszEpf7A6961oweoQ5G8-wa_Do6AyPjt1bdr0/s1600/beer+at+First.JPG" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEja-7tUd5VueXaVzwbSDFGIwcLJnrxm8g2oCw_-aaUpSwvTbGS3gCOnZcYCsp4uP-kiHPGCARG-S1snWnGLs5hAG8RulHsDLJo7nR8QhvaszEpf7A6961oweoQ5G8-wa_Do6AyPjt1bdr0/s200/beer+at+First.JPG" width="148" /></a>Bib numbers in hand, we wandered over to a nice bar in the Palazzo called <a href="http://www.palazzolasvegas.com/first.aspx">First</a> and began our carb loading with a beer and some of their (free) homemade pretzels. I had a really good local brew- <a href="http://www.tenayacreekbrewery.com/beer.html">Tenaya Creek Nut Brown Ale</a>. If you ever go, ask for Lou. He'll take good care of you.</div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">We ate the pasta dinner at the official race hotel, the Mandalay Bay. Although the food was okay, I think next time we'll eat somewhere on our own like <a href="http://www.newyorknewyork.com/restaurants/restaurants_ilfornaio.aspx">Il Fornaio</a> (in New York, New York). The entertainment during the pasta dinner was really awful so we left soon after eating. The server gave me some bananas to take back to the room for the morning, making me feel more confident in my morning nutrition plan.</div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTO5bhxQioTm2iEHzY5WM2QjN_R3ZfcxOqdBFJ_0fZhdyl2YRUqe-R04Jxq55lDuzJb3Z1J0UNfBvrgk0Q9963az5CLBCnOUVDgv0oXtNY3nvLBYfpLlI5KNFuh8KVfuLNwOMdUpQoQF4/s1600/Vegas+numbere.JPG" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="239" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTO5bhxQioTm2iEHzY5WM2QjN_R3ZfcxOqdBFJ_0fZhdyl2YRUqe-R04Jxq55lDuzJb3Z1J0UNfBvrgk0Q9963az5CLBCnOUVDgv0oXtNY3nvLBYfpLlI5KNFuh8KVfuLNwOMdUpQoQF4/s320/Vegas+numbere.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">We got back to the room around 8:30 and were in bed ready for sleep by 10:30. Awesome! This time change really works in our favor! </div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><b>SUNDAY - Race Day!</b></div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">When the alarm went off at 5:30- I felt great! Weird. I immediately ate a mini-Luna bar and began pulling on my run gear. I ate my banana around 6:00 a.m. We walked over to the race at 6:30.</div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">35,000 people is a LOT of people. A lot a lot of people. They had numbered corrals for the runners stretching back a mile at least. With so many people we had a little trouble getting to bag check and the race actually started before we could get back to our corral (#28). However, it took nearly 40 minutes for our group to even reach the starting line so there wasn't a whole lot of concern.</div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">The Blues Brothers kicked off the race singing some of their booty goovin' tunes like <i>Gimme Some Lovin'</i>, <i>Soul Man</i> and <i>Everybody Needs Somebody to Love</i>. Awesome! And we were off!</div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">The Las Vegas Strip is only closed twice a year. Once for NASCAR where the cars cruise the streets and once for the marathon/half marathon. Our race would take us from Mandalay Bay up the strip near Freemont Street (where it winds around a little bit) then back down. We would pass all the big casinos as well as a few people taking their early morning "walk of shame."</div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">My friends practice the Galloway method of running and walking intervals. I've been training on the Lydiard method for the last year (no walking intervals- or only as needed) so we were separated after the 2nd mile. They are actually faster than I am, but my muscles feel happier in a run than a walk. I found a really cool woman running at my pace and we ran together for several miles. I was keeping a faster pace than her original but we stayed together a good while. But by mile 7 I was on my own again.</div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Along the course I could see brides and grooms in wedding-running gear. Some got married DURING the race at a "run in" wedding! The overall mood of the race was festive and fun. </div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">I was pretty happy with myself. Tummy was just fine, breathing felt great and my legs were tired but steady. A few little twinges ran through my glutes and quads every now and again but nothing stuck. Miles 8 and 9 were the toughest. By this time I was no longer continuously running. I'd run several steps, then slow to a walk. I tried to use traffic signals as intervals but even that was a little much.I still felt fine, but my legs were just done.</div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Finally I saw the 10 mile marker! It's just a 5K now! Woo! I could see the Mandalay Bay now and knew I was closing in. When I hit mile 12, I decided to run the rest of the way in. It was more than a shuffle but just barely. A part of me really wanted to tie my last race time but at this point I was just happy to have come this far feeling as good as I did. I couldn't see the actual finish line until I turned onto the Mandalay Bay property so I kicked a little late but it wasn't a significant boost.</div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">I crossed the finish line in 3:03:08, got my medal and wrapped the finisher's foil blanket around my legs. Although the weather was great, my legs were already starting to get chilly. I met up with my friends very quickly. They only finished a few minutes ahead of me. We took some times to regroup then eased over to the Miller GD 64 tent for our "reward."</div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSHoUSWOg3AoxVk_wj15THzB6DNmo2fITtsKoKHKxD1RTYA1Gsi0aM4PN0qwybhav4i-tXwXd8UcOTq_PnpSfUfqR_iS5vfKr0SE7HqzVY15qhkssXDBu84ChgheArNMi1-nV0HGmSAPM/s1600/Copy+of+post-race+medals.JPG" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSHoUSWOg3AoxVk_wj15THzB6DNmo2fITtsKoKHKxD1RTYA1Gsi0aM4PN0qwybhav4i-tXwXd8UcOTq_PnpSfUfqR_iS5vfKr0SE7HqzVY15qhkssXDBu84ChgheArNMi1-nV0HGmSAPM/s320/Copy+of+post-race+medals.JPG" width="239" /></a> </div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Let me tell ya- that crappy light beer tasted sooooooooooo good. And, just our luck, we were right up near the front of the Stage when Bret Michaels began his mini-concert. He was GREAT! Last time I saw him live was at Arco Arena. I was 16, front of the pit, and may or may not have had several swigs of vodka. How things change...</div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><br />
</div><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">I consider this race a success. I recovered very quickly from this race- especially as compared to my first half marathon in February. I really only had trouble going down stairs and getting up out of low chairs. I never had any significant tummy issues. Destination races really seem to be the way to go. The rest of the trip was also a complete blast, but of course, this is just a simple race report. It wouldn't be right to divulge what happened during the rest of the Vegas trip here, now would it?</span>Carolhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03608063616153763724noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5850387728720783443.post-19313156048146856952010-08-23T16:46:00.000-05:002010-08-23T16:46:39.682-05:00Sweet & Twisted 2010<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; font-size: small;">Ah Sweet & Twisted, you have not yet failed to live up to your name. Why is it that the all-women’s races (I’m thinking of the Danskin and the Sweet & Twisted) are harder courses than the co-ed races? <br />
<br />
I saw a shooting star on my drive out to Pace Bend- which I hoped would be a good luck sign. I noticed a LOT of athletes on their way to the race this time. Usually I don’t see anyone until closer to the site but there were quite a few of us caravanning in. I also passed the <a href="http://www.koolkones.com/">Kool Kones</a> trailer, yum! <br />
<br />
At the race site, I set up my transition spot, greeted friends (like my partner in crime, <a href="http://www.mantratees.com/">Buffy Weaver</a>) and began to think about what kind of race I wanted to have. I visualized a swim with quick arm turnover, a bike with big power climbing up the hills and a run where I not only ran the whole way- but I spent more time running than jogging. Then I placed those thoughts in a little mental envelope and tucked it into my bra.<br />
<br />
SWIM: I don’t know what my deal was. I was kept swimming off to the right for the first part of the swim. That was not part of my visualization. I made the turn to head back to the swim exit and I See Terri Stamm pass me on my left. She was haulin’! Again, I had to fight not to be pulled off to the right- those reeds were pokey! Good think I had on goggles! I must have a little imbalance in my stroke somewhere.<br />
Hit the swim exit and ensured that I let the swim volunteers (who happened to be Austin firefighters) help me out of the water. I may have played it up a little. I checked my watch time and it read 00:00:00. Mermph.<br />
<br />
Up to transition where a few ants had were curiously milling around on my stuff so I squirted them with my water bottle and got suited up for the bike. Crap- forgot to take off the tri top (too hot to wear tri top and singlet) so off goes the helmet, off goes the tri top, on goes the singlet on goes the helmet. Sweet- let’s do this!<br />
<br />
BIKE: Bike felt pretty solid. Although it took a while to get my legs back. The first time I hit the first hill is always the hardest for me because I’m not yet warmed up. But up and onward I went. A few friends passed me on the bike and we got to cheer each other on- I passed a few people and tried to give them some friendly encouragement. There was a little wind on the backside of the course but nothing daunting. By mile 9, I was already going through the run in my head. As I ran my back back to transition, I passed a bunch of Team Survivor and relay team athletes waiting for their turn and they gave me a big cheer. That felt great and really warmed my spirit.<br />
<br />
RUN: On went the run shoes. There were now only 3.1 miles separating me from <a href="http://www.lickitbiteitorboth.com/">Lick It Bite It Or Both cupcakes</a>. And that is 3.1 miles too many. I heard Ron on the loudspeaker announce that I was on the run course and that gave me another extra boost. Things felt okay until I hit the big hill- the only real hill on the course- but I could only manage a shuffle up that hill. In fact, I took a little break at the top of the hill to down more water and take in a Hammer gel. And harass <a href="http://josegringo.com/">Joey Trimyer</a>. The run down was great- it re-energized my legs and I was able to keep a nice little pace for a while- until I hit the sandy part of the course. I tried to run on the more stable parts but the ground still shifted enough to make me work harder than I wanted to. <br />
<br />
As it turned out, two friends of mine were the most crucial volunteers (for me) of the day. <a href="http://thewavingrunner.blogspot.com/">Tanner Hunt</a> was on the course handing out icy cold towels and giving cheers to everyone and Angela Laidecker was the key volunteer at the final turnaround point. Those two could not have been in better positions as I needed a little extra oomph.<br />
Once I left Angela, I began to open up my stride. I finished pretty strong and aside from the break at the first water stop- I ran the whole thing.<br />
<br />
Unfortunately, I ran it really slow. It’s my only disappointment of the race- my run time. Everything else had improved (I think my swim improved- the run to T1 and T1 times are currently included with the swim time). It seems that my run got slower from last year- when I walked most of it.<br />
<br />
What an amazing turnout! It truly was a party- with so many great people from <a href="http://redlicoriceevents.com/">RLE</a>, <a href="http://www.roguerunning.com/">Rogue</a>, <a href="http://www.teamsurvivoraustin.org/">Team Survivor</a> and my friends form other training teams. And getting friendly cheers from strangers- it makes all the heat and burrs and sweat and hills more than worth it!<br />
<br />
Truthfully I’m a little discouraged but I’ve decided to stay in the <a href="http://www.theaustintriathlon.com/">Austin Tri</a> Olympic distance this coming Labor Day. My overall paces are faster at the longer distances and I think if I really focus over the next 2 weeks, I can improve my time over last year. After that… its back to focus on running to get ready for the <a href="http://warriordash.com/index.php">Warrior Dash</a> in November! Rawrr!</span>Carolhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03608063616153763724noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5850387728720783443.post-65932575346724666302010-08-18T14:13:00.002-05:002010-08-18T14:29:05.525-05:00Ring of Fire: I Rode Luckenbach!<div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">The morning arrived too early, as always. I didn’t have the usual race day jitters as on this sticky Saturday, I planned to just ride, not race, the hills of Luckenbach and the surrounding areas. I felt prepared for the 40 or so miles of rolling hills but I was mildly concerned about the heat. I’ve learned my lesson about hydration this year and took the time to drink plenty of water and <a href="http://www.nuun.com/">nuun</a> in the days leading up to the ride. I was already slathered in sunscreen when I got into my car at 5:15 am and would reapply just before ride time. <br />
<br />
I arrived at <a href="http://www.luckenbachtexas.com/">Luckenbach </a>in plenty of time- despite a few missed turns and improvised paths. I’m not at my best until 7 or 7:30. Luckenbach isn’t so much a town as a collection of buildings- a dance hall, a bar, and a barn. It has a very Western feel. In fact, scratch that- Luckenbach IS Western. It feels like any minute a trio of cowboys will come loping into town on snorting horses, tie their mounts to the tie post and order three fingers of whiskey at the bar. But instead of dusty faced cowhands, today Luckenbach was filled with brightly colored bike jerseys, two wheeled steeds and water bottles filled with nuun, pure sport and other sports drinks.<br />
<br />
<a href="http://www.redlicoriceevents.com/">Red Licorice Events</a> Brand Ambassador Buffy Weaver and I decided to ride the 40 miler together. Michelle and Terri were also riding the 40- but they set a pace that I was not eager to match. After all, I was simply riding! We rolled out and started on the first part of the course- a lovely little 12 mile loop though the hill country. It was most flat-ish with a couple of short but steep hills. With shady vistas and pastures of goats and cows, I was definitely in a happy place. <br />
<br />
I rolled up to the first rest stop managed by <a href="http://www.ajcyclery.com/">AJ’s Cyclery</a> and got a big hug from Tough Cookie and Team Survivor Leticia Olivarez. I downed a couple of Nutter Butters- my favorite, then pedaled on to the next part of the course- a tough out and back. I don’t know if I like out and back or not. In one sense it’s good because you know what the return ride will be like. On the other hand, it’s bad because you know what the return ride will be like! Every hill I flew down made me grimace because I know that on this course, what goes down must come up. One downhill in particular made me wince. I’m normally all for downhills, but as I descended and descended for what seemed like ten minutes I knew this would become my white whale of the race. <br />
<br />
The next rest stop was Eli Cohen’s <a href="http://www.rei.com/">REI</a> Meet Rack and home of my birthday cake! Eli brought a cake for me and his coworker Sarah. I regret that I couldn’t eat more than 2-3 bites but I didn’t want anything that was not essential in my tummy. Pretty soon we began to see some of the other riders heading back our way. These would be the fast 40 milers and the 110/65 milers headed home. They were cruising! Michelle Lopez blasted past us looking strong as ever. What an athlete!<br />
<br />
After some merriment and photo ops, we continued along. The sun decided to stay behind the clouds for most of the ride and a pleasant cross wind kept me comfortable. I was sweating heavily but never overheated or felt unduly hot. The hills rolled under my wheels as I passed by more farms and fields and groves of trees. The next stop was hosted by the <a href="http://www.rmhc-austin.org/">Ronald McDonald House</a>. I gratefully accepted an icy cold towel from an insistent little girl. I did not need to be asked twice, but she did because I wasn’t fast enough! <br />
<br />
Then- it was time to go back. Now, it seemed as though the majority of the hills would be in my favor on the way back- many more downhills than uphills. Except the one. That one. I rode along, trying to remember which hill it was but when we came to the base, there was no mistaking it. Holy cow! That was a long hill. More than a mile of up. So I popped Skippy into an easy gear, looked about 5 feet ahead of my front wheel and dug in.<br />
<br />
When I go uphill, I usually like to get a mantra going, or a peppy song of some kind. Sometimes it’s Metallica, sometimes it’s Beastie Boys, sometimes it’s Tool. Today, it was John Denver. For real. WTF? The ONLY song I could get my head to play was “Sunshine on My Shoulders”. Yeah, you know it- you just don’t know that you know it. <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2AbxQ2Q4HeU">Here’s a listen.</a><br />
Yeah. Rock on.<br />
<br />
But John somehow crooned me up that hill- I even got some props from a rider who said I inspired him to get up that monster. I didn’t have the heart to tell him that it was really because of a bespectacled folk singer with a bowl cut.<br />
<br />
I felt incredibly satisfied with myself after that hill and although I knew the worst was over, the course taunted me with several more short steep hills. With quads rapidly turning to jello, I finally pulled into Luckenbach and finished the ride. A sweaty, satisfying 45 mile ride that I cannot wait to challenge myself with next year! Perhaps if I bump up to the 65 miler next year, the Carpenters will serenade me. <br />
<br />
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</span></div>Carolhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03608063616153763724noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5850387728720783443.post-33130467360995497592010-08-06T22:33:00.000-05:002010-08-06T22:33:35.323-05:00Jack’s Generic Triathlon. 2010<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Sunday was my return to triathlon after a two month break from racing. I was so frustrated with my performance at the CapTex Tri on Memorial Day that I vowed to stay away until I felt truly ready to race again. </span><i style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">(You may ask, “Carol, where is your CapTex Tri race report?” To that I say, the dog ate it)</i><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">. The best thing that came out of that race was what Ginny Rolich told me: “It's the races that you want to quit but don’t, that are your real successes.”</span></span><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
So what did I learn from CapTex?<br />
<br />
Pre-race: I hydrated like a – well, I hydrated big time. The whole week leading up to the race, I increased my water intake to drinking 5-6 water bottles worth of water (at least 2 of them with <a href="http://www.nuun.com/">nuun</a>).<br />
<br />
Race Prep: I practiced transition and had my race bag packed before dinner on Saturday night. Dinner was light, lean and consumed before 8pm.<br />
<br />
Swim: We’ve been practicing bilateral breathing during workouts and I put it to use. No surprise- it works! I got into a really good rhythm: stroke stroke breathe, stroke stroke breathe, stroke breathe sight. My time was a full 10 seconds faster per hundred than my last swim at the Ski Ranch at the Rookie!<br />
<br />
In order to stay cool, I stripped my tri top off and slipped my running singlet over my jogbra. This was a HUGE help. I’m not comfortable in just my trisuit for the run so I usually wear my singlet over it but that gets HOT. This time- although I was hot, I was never at risk for over heating. Maybe someday I’ll feel secure enough in just a trisuit but until then, I’m doing the top-swap!<br />
<br />
Bike: The bike felt good but ultimately proved to be my slowest MPH. I remember there was one point when I was really moving with a good cadence and I couldn’t suppress a “woohoo!” Although I felt pretty solid, a fair portion of the bike course is incredibly bumpy which makes for a slow ride and tired legs. <br />
<br />
On my way down the hill I saw a sight that none of us ever wants to see- medics on course. I could see a bike propped up but two police cars, an ambulance and a civilian car blocked my vision. I know it sounds cheesy, but I had a really weird feeling. I couldn’t see who was down or even how many people were involved but given how close our tri community is, I had a feeling I knew someone involved.<br />
<br />
Run: Ah the run. My old nemesis. At CapTex it defeated me and I ended up walking most of the way- but not today. Today I was determined not to walk. I would jog, I would shuffle, I would trot- but I would not walk. Along my run I crossed paths with many friends and we gave each other cheers. In fact, just about everyone I made eye contact with returned my thumbs up or encouragement. <br />
A few minutes into the run, I saw Jen Ritchie coming back towards me. “It was Stacey!” she shouted. “Stacey crashed.” I was stunned. My friend Stacey is has been a training buddy for two years. She’s a cheerful, positive bundle of energy who just completed her first 70.3 (half Ironman) earlier this year. She is currently training for her first marathon and now she’s on her way to a hospital. Knowing there was nothing I could do at this point, I kept on and decided to catch up with Jen once I was done.<br />
<br />
Soon I realized that I was at the turnaround point and my legs were still cruising along. So yeah, I took a few walk steps in order to get some water down but other than that- I did it! I ran the whole thing!<br />
<br />
I came into the finish and saw fellow <a href="http://www.redlicoriceevents.com/">RLE Brand Ambassador</a> Buffy cheering me on at the end. I gave it just a little extra across the sand and it was over. I was very pleased with my run but anxious to find out about Stacey. I soon learned that she was taken to a local hospital and several of our friends were either there with her working to help get her car and gear back to her house.<br />
<br />
Buffy and I gulped down our burgers (hers veggie, mine cow) and beers and decided to call it a day. I checked in on Stacey’s status and learned that although she had broken her collarbone and suffered a fair amount of road rash, she was handling it well.<br />
<br />
So all in all, a good day for me but with a little more road rash than any of us would like to see. I’ve been in touch with Stacey and she’s managing very very well. None of us are surprised to know she’ll be back at it in a few weeks. That’s just how <a href="http://www.roguerunning.com/">Rogues </a>roll.<br />
</span></div>Carolhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03608063616153763724noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5850387728720783443.post-83465566330715394272010-05-17T00:04:00.001-05:002010-05-17T00:17:52.814-05:00First Rookie<div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><a href="http://www.therookietri.com/">The Rookie</a> is an unusual race. Not because of the distance or the location- but because of the competitors. Although its short distance (300m swim, 11.2 mile bike and 2 mile run) is appealing to the novice triathlete, they seem to be far outnumbered by the elites. Truthfully, the event is a little early in the season for most beginners to get their feet wet (heh heh), but the tough ones are still out there. </div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">I wasn't even supposed to be at the Rookie. I had spent all day Saturday under the covers trying to get over either major allergies, the beginnings of a flu or a cold. Or all three. I have no idea but I knew I was miserable.</div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">When the alarm went off, I snoozed for an extra 30 minutes then convinced myself that I should at least show up. thankful that I had laid everything out the night before so all I needed to do was feed the pooch, make a peanut butter pita sandwich and load up the vehicle.</div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Few things are as morale killing as driving in the rain to a race you aren't sure you'll be able to finish, let alone start- but there I was, driving through alternating patters of sprinkle and drizzle, drizzle and sprinkle. But somehow, I arrived at the Texas Ski Ranch and things began looking up.</div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">I was greeted enthusiastically by the <a href="http://www.redlicoriceevents.com/">Red Licorice</a> volunteer transition crew. I hung out with Buffy and her groggy but supportive husband Terry, Jennie from <a href="http://www.pureaustincoaching.com/">PAC</a>, Angela from <a href="http://www.roguerunning,com/">Rogue</a> and Sally- a woman I met at the Champions Du/Tri. Then it hit me- I am truly part of the tri community. Boosted by this realization, I tucked my swim cap and goggles into the shoulder strap tri top and marched out to watch the first few waves.</div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">And go to the bathroom about 10 times.</div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><b>The Swim:</b></div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">My swim wasn't perfect, but it went a lot better than many of the swimmers who immediately swam to the first jump dock and clung to it while they calmed down or caught their breath. I could have gone out harder but my head and shoulders felt so achy- I wasn't sure how hard to push it. Then I got boxed in by TWO breast-strokers. Uhg. I finally swam over the left arm of one of the ladies and tried as best I could not to kick (too hard) until I was sure my feet cleared her face. I didn't want to totally ruin anyone's experience but I needed to get moving!</div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">As we crawled out of the water, everyone told us to wipe the sediment off our faces. Gross. But my head felt a lot more clear! Interesting. I guess the waters of the Ski swamp have healing powers- temporary ones at least.</div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><b>The Bike:</b></div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Second time to use my clipless pedals in a race! My transition went smoothly and I trotted out to the mount line. Leilani and Joey were there to send me off with some encouragement and off I went to hunt down the mountain bikers- my favorite prey. </div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">The course was nice- a good ratio of hills to flats, horses, cows and sheep. All the volunteers had foam hands pointing us in the right direction - very cool!</div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Question: Is it wrong to be happy when you pass a 14 year old on the bike? (Answer: No, because she will pass you on the run).</div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">I end my ride, averaging 15 miles per hour. A little slow for me but I'm okay with it. Leilani is on the megaphone announcing my arrival and telling me to "show 'em how it's [bike dismount] is done." As I struggle to clip out- but I make it in time, halt my bike, slip off just before the dismount line and head on in for the run.</div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><b>The Run:</b></div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Two miles. Two little bitty miles. A warm up for most. The best thing I can say about my run performance is that its the first tri where I never stopped to walk. What made the run tolerable was that it was an out and back so we could cheer people on! I saw Buffy barreling towards me on her way back home and we slapped a high 5. I heard cheers of "nice job, Red Licorice!" and "looking good!" from the other runners and the volunteers and i gave it right back to them. It was like a mini-Danskin (sorry guys- you just wouldn't understand).</div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">I finished well- not exactly strong but with a smile. At the finish line I reunited with my friends and we congratulated each other, some sipping beer, some sipping <a href="http://www.puresport.com/">PureSport </a>recovery drink but all wearing our Rookie medals. </div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Then I went home and went to bed. </div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">The end.</div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">And it never rained!</div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><br />
</div>Carolhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03608063616153763724noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5850387728720783443.post-59621020306460382032010-03-31T23:37:00.002-05:002010-04-01T00:09:04.376-05:00The 2010 Champions Duathlon (a.k.a. The Wake Up Call)<div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Ladies and gentlemen, I have a stunning revelation for you. In fact, have a seat because this is life changing information.</span></div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">If you take more than two weeks off your steady training, your race will suffer.</span></div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Shocking, I know.</span></div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Having an active lifestyle requires a commitment to that lifestyle. When you are a person like myself who is struggling to make fitness a priority but has a life full of distractions, it is easy to fall off the wagon. And you cannot rely on the training you did a month ago to get you across the finish line successfully. </span></div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Which excuse do you want? Had to stay late at work? Had to go home let the dog out? Didn’t eat a good lunch so don’t feel like working out? I got a million of ‘em and not one of them is insurmountable. So why am I in this predicament? Why am I sabotaging myself?</span></div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">So here’s what happened:</span></div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">I’ve run a few times since my <a href="http://randomprofanity.blogspot.com/2010/02/first-131.html">half marathon in February</a>- including the most awesome <a href="http://www.texasindependencerelay.com/">Texas Independence Relay</a> at the beginning of the month, but I’ve done nothing longer than 5-6 miles and only a few runs at a pace faster than 11 minute miles. Cycling? Just a little since getting my new pedals. Swimming? Don’t get me started on the list of excuses there.</span></div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">I signed up for the <a href="http://www.redlicoriceevents.com/">Red Licorice Events Champions duathlon </a>(run-bike-run) because I didn’t want to rent a wetsuit and I haven’t so much as dipped my toes in a pool since September. I knew something was off at packet pick up. I didn’t have the same pre-race “high” that I normally get. In fact, it felt a little more like dread. Like I knew I wasn’t really ready but the roller coaster ride had started and there was no stopping it now.</span></div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">When the alarm went off, I snoozed for 45 minutes- resulting in a harried exit from the house and complete lack of parking once I arrived at the race site at Lake Pflugerville. I was able to greet my friends and set up my transition with plenty of time, however. I was excited to try my first timed transition with bike shoes! </span></div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">The Sprint distance duathletes waiting in the chilly air at the top of the dam trail until 9:30 for our mass start. When the horn sounded we all took off- except me. My legs would not move. Each step I took felt like I was trying to drag anchors across the sand with my feet. My breath wouldn’t settle in. Everyone was leaving me behind.</span></div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Before I go any further I need to tell you about the kind of person who attempts to race this early in the season. <a href="http://www.redlicoriceevents.com/events/Champions_Triathlon_2010.html">The Champions Sprint/Olympic Du and Tri </a>was limited to 325 participants (I think). Most of these athletes train year round and have goals of Irons and half Irons. I think about 6 people including myself carried extra body fat. So I expected to be towards the back of the pack versus somewhere in the middle. But I didn’t expect to be THE back.</span></div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Okay- so by now I’ve gone maybe 200 meters and nothing feels right. I try to distract myself by watching the swimmers. They were struggling, too. The wind was causing the normally serene Lake Pflugerville to be alive with small choppy waves. My situation is clearly better on land. All I had to do was run .75 miles out and .75 miles back. But my body was not having it.</span></div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">I could see the runners ahead of me turning around and coming back my way. This feeling is a little like the walk of shame. The first few runners who cruise by are so focused on their run that they don’t look up. A few may give a curt nod, but that’s about all. Several gave a word of encouragement- which was pretty cool- but they can all see you as “the last person.” </span></div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">I finally rounded the turnaround cone to the cheers of the volunteers and trudged back toward transition. I really looked forward to not running anymore and the bike is my strongest event. I reached transition and reached down to swap my running shoes for my new biking shoes. My next big test was coming up. How would I do with my clipless pedals.</span></div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Well, my first three miles were outstanding. I clipped in pretty easily and zipped off. I glanced down at my speedometer and saw that I was cruising at 24 MPH. And I was hardly working! Wow! Maybe things would be okay! Then I took a right turn and slammed into the wind that had been helping me out. Crap. The rest of the bike was tough. The wind always seemed to be at my chest, as if I needed more resistance. The course was nice- come country roads with some nice hills- all were manageable but there were lots of them. I did a good job of getting my much needed water, thanks to <a href="http://www.nuun.com/">nuun </a>and I tried out the <a href="http://www.hammernutrition.com/products/hammer-gel.hg.html?navcat=fuels-energy-drinks">vanilla Hammer gel</a> (great flavor- tastes like pudding!)</span></div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">I passed a few cyclists and that made me feel better. After just over 12 miles, it was time for the second run. I wheeled towards the dismount line and easily clipped out. I passed my first test with clipless pedals, woo! I ambled back to my transition spot, swapped out my shoes and stiffly trotted to the run out. </span></div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">The second run wasn’t much better than the first. I felt like I couldn’t get any extension in my legs but I vowed that I would finish and that I would not walk. Seriously- six weeks before I ran 13.1 miles and I was struggling with a mile and a half. </span></div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">As I ran toward the finish line, I knew my friends and teammates would be keeping an eye out for me so I tried to pick it up. Lindsay H. saw me and directed me to take a hard left turn and into the finish chute I went- over the timing mat and under the arch. I accepted my medal and a <a href="http://www.jackandadams.com/ASP/Home.asp">Jack & Adams</a> water bottle but all the while my wake up call was ringing off the hook.</span></div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">So I’ve answered. If I am to have a better season than last year, I’ve got to make training more of a priority. Add in morning workouts. Get to work early so I can leave in time to make my workouts. Eat better. Reach out to friends and teammates for motivation. </span></div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">It’s time to do this.</span></div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><i><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></i></div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><i><span style="font-size: small;">Author’s note: So far this week I’m 2 for 2: I’ve made my run workout with <a href="http://www.roguerunning.com/">Rogue</a> and my spin workout with <a href="http://www.pureaustincoaching.com/">P.A.C. </a></span></i></div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><i><span style="font-size: small;">I wasn't actually last either. But I wasn't far from it. </span></i></div>Carolhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03608063616153763724noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5850387728720783443.post-8784551279763663622010-02-19T00:54:00.001-06:002010-02-19T00:54:43.194-06:00The First 13.1<div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><meta content="text/html; charset=utf-8" http-equiv="Content-Type"></meta><meta content="Word.Document" name="ProgId"></meta><meta content="Microsoft Word 11" name="Generator"></meta><meta content="Microsoft Word 11" name="Originator"></meta><link href="file:///C:%5CDOCUME%7E1%5CCarol%5CLOCALS%7E1%5CTemp%5Cmsohtml1%5C01%5Cclip_filelist.xml" rel="File-List"></link><o:smarttagtype name="State" namespaceuri="urn:schemas-microsoft-com:office:smarttags"></o:smarttagtype><o:smarttagtype name="PlaceName" namespaceuri="urn:schemas-microsoft-com:office:smarttags"></o:smarttagtype><o:smarttagtype name="PlaceType" namespaceuri="urn:schemas-microsoft-com:office:smarttags"></o:smarttagtype><o:smarttagtype name="City" namespaceuri="urn:schemas-microsoft-com:office:smarttags"></o:smarttagtype><o:smarttagtype name="place" namespaceuri="urn:schemas-microsoft-com:office:smarttags"></o:smarttagtype><o:smarttagtype name="Street" namespaceuri="urn:schemas-microsoft-com:office:smarttags"></o:smarttagtype><o:smarttagtype name="address" namespaceuri="urn:schemas-microsoft-com:office:smarttags"></o:smarttagtype><style>
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</style> </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4bh8UJ7IAE7NpmS_1KKrmkWdet79hjtPcuQ9jrwpr89HX8JKVp_J1f2IiDKcn9TCp_-1ODlPyg-le8XEKSkXgAuC5t9EixeDjSNucQCJ7b60a2tza4270hQlJwIoDn19WRajRKPAafTs/s1600-h/2010+Austin+Half+M+prep.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4bh8UJ7IAE7NpmS_1KKrmkWdet79hjtPcuQ9jrwpr89HX8JKVp_J1f2IiDKcn9TCp_-1ODlPyg-le8XEKSkXgAuC5t9EixeDjSNucQCJ7b60a2tza4270hQlJwIoDn19WRajRKPAafTs/s320/2010+Austin+Half+M+prep.JPG" /></a></div><div class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">The morning was chilly and crisp. I hopped out of bed without the weekday morning dread and glanced over at the clothes I’d layed out the night before. Today was Austin Half Marathon Day! In five hours I’d be crossing the finish line on </span><st1:street style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;" w:st="on"><st1:address w:st="on">Congress Avenue</st1:address></st1:street><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">!</span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">While I’ve never had any doubts about finishing, I did have concerns about the weather. I haven’t had much experience running in cold weather and finding the right combination of clothes to wear for a 13.1 mile run is a challenge! Fortunately, I had a good luck charm. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Three weeks earlier I cheered for my friends running the 3M Half marathon. At some point, a woman shed her blue fleece jacket right in front of me and tossed it on the ground. Knowing I had my half coming up, I picked it up and it was just my size! So I wore it to the Austin Half and planned to “pay it forward” so someone else could have a chance to wear it, too.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">So there I was- running up <st1:street w:st="on"><st1:address w:st="on">Congress Avenue</st1:address></st1:street> with my borrowed fleece for miles one through three. Things felt good. I dropped off my fleece somewhere around Bird’s Barbershop. The air felt good. The Austin Half is special because at nearly every mile, a non-profit team is there to cheer you on and a live band is not far away. There is something to look forward to at each mile!</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">I knew I was going to have a great race when I rounded the turn from Ben White to <st1:street w:st="on"><st1:address w:st="on">South 1<sup>st</sup> Street</st1:address></st1:street> and I could hear “Sweet Caroline” coming from the LIVESTRONG water stop. The volunteers gave me some extra cheers when they read my name on my bib. “There she goes!” yelled one of them.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">I walked the water stop at mile 6 and ate a few shot bloks. I was still feeling pretty fresh after the long South 1<sup>st</sup> downhill and was ready to being the second half of the race. “The Question” came up for me around mile 7.5. What ever made me think I could do this? What was I thinking? I cleared my head of the negative thoughts and attempted to appreciate the fact that the weather was amazing and that I was fulfilling a goal I never even knew I had. The doubt quickly evaporated. When you push your boundaries, you in effect, remove them.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">I also began to truly appreciate my friends who were racing, volunteering and simply there to cheer me on. How wonderful it is to see friendly familiar faces and hear encouraging voices when you’re in a tough spot. They were my witnesses.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">The back side of the race, the rolling hills of <st1:city w:st="on"><st1:place w:st="on">Enfield</st1:place></st1:city>, was the real challenge. Not only did I have to stop to take my first potty break ever, but I also walked for about a minute. I didn’t want to walk, but I started to feel really frustrated and I needed to collect myself. It was a good decision. I resumed my run and climbed up the second-to-last hill under Mopac. I had to really dig but I knew the BIG challenge was coming. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">When <st1:city w:st="on">Enfield</st1:city> changes to <st1:street w:st="on"><st1:address w:st="on">15<sup>th</sup> Street</st1:address></st1:street>, it might as well turn into <st1:place w:st="on"><st1:placetype w:st="on">Mt.</st1:placetype> <st1:placename w:st="on">Shasta</st1:placename></st1:place>. But its all mental. The hill is just a hill. I considered walking it for a brief moment, but it was actually easier to run up than walk. About ¾ of the way up I could hear my friends cheering for me and that fueled me enough to finish strong.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">When I topped that hill, I kicked into gear and I ran my last mile with just about everything I had left. Counting down the streets: Guadalupe, <st1:place w:st="on"><st1:city w:st="on">Lavaca</st1:city>, <st1:state w:st="on">Colorado</st1:state></st1:place> and Congress! I ran down the West side of the Capitol and into the finish line alley- the cheers were incredible! Then, across the finish line and it was over. My first 13.1!</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">My final time was 2:59:41. My goal time for a half marathon is 2:15, so I have some work to do. But considering that two years ago I could not run ½ mile without stopping, this is pretty impressive. It hit me on my way home from the course. I think I was listening to “Hard Sun” as sung by Eddie Vedder and I began laughing. Laughing then crying. Even as I write this, I reach out to touch my finisher’s medal and I get a little lump in my throat.</span></div>Carolhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03608063616153763724noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5850387728720783443.post-84742918288554547672009-11-01T21:17:00.000-06:002009-11-01T22:34:50.149-06:00Komen Race for the Cure - Second Race for Second Base<span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">This is actually my eighth Race for the Cure- my first in Austin. But this is my second race in less than a month that benefits the boobies. </span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">The morning started off a little atypical for me:</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">1. I didn't visit packet pick up prior to the race, so I had to get my bib number and timing chip that morning instead of having it all prepped the night before.</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">2. I was running late- even with the extra hour.</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">3. I didn't rest the day before- I ran 8 miles for my long run (my longest distance without stopping to walk so far).</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">Given this, I was a little frazzled when I arrived and didn't have enough time to take my race shirt back to the car before the race started. So, I ran with it :-).</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">I warmed up by trotting from my car to the race site and I could tell that my legs were t-i-r-e-d. They felt heavy and uncoordinated.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">Although I was on the Texas Hospital Association team (Protectors of the Holy Girls) I wore my Red Licorice gear. It stood out in the sea of black and pink. I looked around but couldn't find any of the other "Protectors" but I saw lots of clever t-shirts. "I'm With Survivor," "Protect Second Base," "The Rack Pack." I was amused because I just finished </span><span style="font-style: italic;font-family:trebuchet ms;" >Pygmy </span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">by Chuck Palahniuk where the protagonist learns many colorful euphemisms for breasts (several more colorful than others) and this was like a PG rated extension of that theme.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">The run itself felt alright- not my best </span><span style="font-style: italic;font-family:trebuchet ms;" >feeling </span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">race, but I reached two milestones. First, I set a new PR for non-triathlon 5k (36:38 - 11:44 minute miles) beating my last timed effort by 2:26! Secondly, this was the first 5k where I never stopped to walk. I ran the whole way! For many of my athletic friends, this is an everyday occurrence, but for me, it represents a goal that has taken two years to reach. Sure, I have been running over three miles without stopping for the last few months in my training program- but I'd never run a full timed race until today.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">The race allowed the timed racers (about 1700 people) to leave a half hour before the majority of the participants (thousands- in the past as many as 20,000). This was wonderful! We didn't have to battle our way through the crowds to maintain a pace. Another first for a Komen Race- hills! I was not really expecting hills... These weren't killers by any stretch but my already achy legs protested grumpily.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">A little after Mile 2, Marion and Jen, two of my Rogue training buddies, caught up to me. They were looking very strong. We chatted for a bit and they continued on at a clip that was just a little faster than I wanted to go. A little ways from the top of the last hill, Adam, one of my Red Licorice teammates, gave me a cheer and let me know the finish was just a half a mile away. I checked in with my legs- were they ready to kick it in yet?</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">Mmmmm.. not just yet.</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">I hit the top of the hill- now? Eh... not yet.</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">I rounded the corner and could see the finish line and the 3 Mile sign just ahead and my legs said- Do it!</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">Now, it wasn't an out and out sprint- it wasn't even a stride pace, but my legs kicked in and I finished strong.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">The finish line funneled runners around to the food vendors where we loaded up on Yoplait and Lara bars. With each stop at each vendor booth, our schwag bags become heavier and heavier. Light up key chain, water bottle, magnetic picture frame- I became a consumer zombie. MUST TAKE FREE STUFF EVEN THOUGH I DON'T NEED ANY OF IT.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">Finally, after the race, the Protectors of the Holy Girls regrouped at Mighty Fine Burgers for cheeseburgers and chocolate shakes. And I must give props to Jen for drinking a milkshake in record time without suffering from brain freeze. Seriously- it never had a chance.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">As I write this, I realize that the last time I participated in the Race I was still living in Sacramento.</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">My Mom was diagnosed in February 2006 with breast cancer and I did the Race that May- and so did she! In the middle of treatment she and my Dad walked the gentle loop around the Cal Expo Fairgrounds.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">So again, today, I raced in her honor- and for my friend Marion who continues to kick my butt during our runs.</span>Carolhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03608063616153763724noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5850387728720783443.post-72128452069544737882009-10-11T23:28:00.000-05:002009-10-27T01:24:33.213-05:00The Inaugural Mamma Jamma Ride Against Breast Cancer<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimXFxqOvMOLq5qBKPPvPczACwBlptXBK-Oq1KhQ1MNlx8KLEhNxpWsxCAJpWYav6vBZKwib3w1EvciYqdTlywm7lx5f124at0iLTL6D5tg2fu3yyZfVDYSw3688MroFe-0W8JB8DqFCp8/s1600-h/mile+21.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimXFxqOvMOLq5qBKPPvPczACwBlptXBK-Oq1KhQ1MNlx8KLEhNxpWsxCAJpWYav6vBZKwib3w1EvciYqdTlywm7lx5f124at0iLTL6D5tg2fu3yyZfVDYSw3688MroFe-0W8JB8DqFCp8/s320/mile+21.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5397156414854104882" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">The day finally arrived for the Mamma Jamma Ride against breast cancer and it was time to make good on my commitment of 65 miles. Except it wasn't going to be 65 miles. A few extra miles were added to the final approved route making it closer to 70.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">It was still dark when Skippy (yes, my bike is named Skippy- after the great grey racehorse Skip Away) and I arrived at Reunion Ranch- a good half hour drive from my house. I was surprised by how cold it was and was thankful I'd brought along a warm jacket and hat. But the sun was supposed to come out later. It would be okay. Famous last words...</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">I met with the other riders for Team Survivor for our team picture and then cheered on the century (100 mile) riders. They left an hour before the rest of us "slackers".</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">The "now 70 mile" riders and the rest of the riders rolled out at 8:30. I teamed up with two other Team Survivor riders who would be my companions for the whole ride. Jenny, Joanna and I were all about at the same pace until we hit the bigger hills and Jenny became a little red blip motoring off into the horizon.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">The ride took us though some lovely rural areas and some longhorn pastures. I'm still awed when I see longhorn cattle. Not only are their horns magnificent, but their coloring is so unlike any other breed of cattle. Like the mustangs of the cow world, they epitomize the Wild West.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">We cycled past a huge yard with a giant Great Dane loping along the fence like a pony and another field that had two fluffy Anatolian shepherds barking at us - warning us to keep away from the sheep in their care. I don't mind dogs barking at me when they are doing their job. And they stay on their side of the street. And they don't really bark too much. Or at all.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">My only concern that day was that I wasn't prepared for the weather. It was probably in the 50's and my only source of warmth were my arm warmers and the 16 pink bracelets I wore to honor the 23 women who have fought breast cancer. Each time I felt like grumbling, I'd look at my arms and be reminded as to why I was riding in the first place.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">There were signs all along the ride. Some counting us down to the next pit stop, others giving encouragement and still others simply stating the names of those with breast cancer. I was surprised by how some of the messages really moved me- just words on a sign. "You have no idea how strong you are."</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">Our first stop was the (joy!) Milk & Honey Day Spa pit stop at the 21 mile mark. We loaded up on Nutter Butter cookies and PB&J sandwiches, took a few pictures and stretched.</span> My muscles were already stiffening from the cold.<br /><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">We stopped at the Mellow Johnny's stop next. While we were grabbing some more water and snacks, a bunch of the SAG (Support and Gear) vehicles drove up. Valkyries! Lifeguards! Air Mamma Jamma! They were all decked out like parade floats- with the SAG members dressed in costume! Seriously- blond braids and viking helmets!</span> Brilliant!<br /><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">Our third stop was lunch. I'm not sure where along the route it was, I'm guessing we were close to mile 50 at that point. Galaxy Cafe provided some yummy sandwiches and cookies. They also had some carnival games like a ring toss and bean bag tossing- but we were still just too cold to be able to hang out for too long.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">It was becoming a bit of a predicament- the faster we pedaled, the more the wind just blew through us, but we wanted to get through the ride! My thigh muscles were starting to wear out, in part, because I couldn't get them properly warmed up. But one glance down at my bracelets and I pedaled on.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">Overall, the ride was a perfect blend of hills and flats for my first big ride. I had to drop into the granny gear on 2-3 hills but for the most part I stayed in the middle chain. On the flats we probably averaged 18-20 MPH or so.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">We finally began to see signs counting down our distance to the finish "5 more miles!" Then, up one final hill, around one final left turn and down into the finish line crowded with volunteers, riders and supporters! David Smith, the Race Director hugged each of us and gave us our finisher's medal. It was a very emotional moment.</span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"> I was tired and cold and I could have ridden another 50 miles, easily.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">This ride was exceptionally well organized. There was never a doubt as to if we were on course or not. The volunteers, who were as cold as we were, were unfailingly enthusiastic and helpful. </span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">Thanks to all who supported me for the ride- financially, emotionally and gastronomically (Nutter Butters are my new favorite cycling treat!). It was unforgettable and I am truly pleased with my accomplishment.</span> <span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">I can't wait to do it again next year!</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">Here's a pic of my final mileage and my bracelets:</span><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a style="font-family: trebuchet ms;" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEim4On2afO5eBUdKzQGjJZmMbrBV8WTMEwzSvwZt1OtozxJWNLMgxr9K-oN_ahGBrgHwiNr4RqldHN-Nw0OUAbNRCt3dcOXfPqZluvRVueyidf1dIyrT-q7jgu_1YtOLKjiNjT-x-uN9JU/s1600-h/60.05+miles.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 218px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEim4On2afO5eBUdKzQGjJZmMbrBV8WTMEwzSvwZt1OtozxJWNLMgxr9K-oN_ahGBrgHwiNr4RqldHN-Nw0OUAbNRCt3dcOXfPqZluvRVueyidf1dIyrT-q7jgu_1YtOLKjiNjT-x-uN9JU/s320/60.05+miles.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5397155745181182114" border="0" /></a><br /><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">Jenny and Joanna, my partners in crime with our medals:</span><br /><a style="font-family: trebuchet ms;" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnigqAtfGmnELOVo7GqN6nQ2_QHsA9q4BcuCmutim1RrsgQPX0a2i5i4JC3Ecim3ozXT82whhfIYitewf11saiCTYXwd4Dpcf8ab42-vl5KPsKQNqDiC4LEkpR5VzTaZmR07XdrjGYDac/s1600-h/me_Jenny_joanna.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnigqAtfGmnELOVo7GqN6nQ2_QHsA9q4BcuCmutim1RrsgQPX0a2i5i4JC3Ecim3ozXT82whhfIYitewf11saiCTYXwd4Dpcf8ab42-vl5KPsKQNqDiC4LEkpR5VzTaZmR07XdrjGYDac/s320/me_Jenny_joanna.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5397156098947228866" border="0" /></a><br /><br /></div></div>Carolhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03608063616153763724noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5850387728720783443.post-33020080412341460822009-09-10T20:44:00.000-05:002009-09-10T22:43:23.756-05:00The Austin Triathlon Race ReportIt was somewhere along the second loop of the run course as I turned off the path from Butler Park and back onto Barton Springs when this thought occurred to me: <span style="font-style: italic;">Thank goodness U2 has been around for about 30 years!</span> I could hear the U2 cover band, Mysterious Ways, playing at the finish line carnival. I knew they had at least 10 albums worth of music to play before running out of material- and with my run pace, I would need them to make it through at least "Achtung Baby" before I rolled in.<br /><br />It took me 3 hours and 48 minutes to complete my first Olympic distance triathlon. Yes, that's a long time- but when I break the race up into its separate components, I was actually quite close to my expected times for each event.<br /><br />Swim goal time under 40 minutes<br />Swim actual time 42 minutes<br /><br />The water felt great and I only occasionally thought about all the turtles who were in for a rude awakening. The course didn't require me to sight every 3-5 strokes. Instead I could work on keeping my head down and sight less frequently. That is, until I tried to find the last buoy. The sun was right behind the last buoy making it nearly impossible to see. Fortunately the kayak volunteers pointed me in the right direction and I continued on my way. I realized on my way in to the swim exit that I could have given just a little more but no time to fret about that now- it was on to the bike!<br /><br />I allowed myself some extra time in transition to grab a few SHOTBLOKS and water. My legs were still a little wobbly from the swim and weren't fully cooperative when I attempted to put on my shoes, but I finally got it. Then I trotted my by out to the mount line.<br /><br />Bike goal time under 90 minutes<br />Bike actual time 94 minutes<br /><br />As I pedaled away I could hear Lindsey C. yell my name over the bull horn, "Go Carol!"<br />The Congress Ave hill up to Mary Street came a little too early for my legs. Its not even a real hill-hill. Its more like a long bump but I was already feeling it. I knew, however, that between the return trip downhill and the flat route out to Austin High School, I'd find my groove. And I'll share a little secret with you: I hate being passed by anyone on a mountain bike. The way they sit upright and pedal along in too low a gear, elbows cocked out to the sides. Who do they think they are with their knobby tires? Find a single track, will ya?<br /><br />I stayed a little conservative on the bike because I was concerned about my run. I've only run over 5 miles 3 times before this race. I've never run a 10k race so my first timed 10k would be this tri. <br /><br />Run goal time: not last<br />Run actual time 1:23<br /><br />It turns out that my 10k pace for this races was a full minute faster than my 5k pace at both the Danskin and Sweet & Twisted this year. Hmm. The first two miles were tough, really tough. Partly because it started on a dirt path, but more likely because I have not been incorporating enough brick workouts into my training. MUST ADD MORE BIKE-RUN bricks.<br />Then I heard Amy and Brnadon yelling my name and I knew I had to step it up. There was only one way to get to he end, and the faster I went, the sooner I'd be able to rest.<br /><br />One of my favorite parts of the run is you can really see how hard people are working. You can give them an "atta girl" or a "looking good" and watch their stride pick up just a little. Second best part about the run: cold sponges! These dreamy foam squares were a key to keeping me comfortable during the run. Unlike Sweet & Twisted, I never felt dehydrated or overheated.<br /><br />This run was a heartbreaker because I had to run PAST the finish line carnival and run for three more miles before I was done! I could hear the names of other racers being called, the music of U2 in the background and I beers being poured. Yes, really. I could hear that. Each frothy amber drop.<br /><br />So around I went again, squeezing sponges over my head at the J&A rest stop, clomping over the dirt paths to Barton Springs Drive and ever so slightly picking up my pace. I wish I had timed the laps because I know my second lap was faster than my first. I hit the gas as soon as I turned back onto Barton Springs from S. 1st street. And the best part- truly, was breaking the finish line ribbon at the end of the race. I've never done that before and it was as good as I imagined it.<br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">Despite what they say, triathlon for me is not an individual sport because it it weren't for these people (and many others) I would not have had the great experience I did:</span><br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">Thanks to my Rogue coaches and Amy Marsh for preparing me for this race and cheering me on!</span><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">Ruth, Jen HB, Laura and Brandon</span><br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">To my Red Licorice teammates and training buddies for cheering me on and witnessing my biggest race to date!</span><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">Stacey, Jen R., Jennie, Amber, Rebecca, Ron, Penny, Rachel, Leilani, Lindsey, Ron (I still do my side lying leg lifts!), Erin and Michele</span>Carolhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03608063616153763724noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5850387728720783443.post-8838077204278450512009-08-30T22:18:00.000-05:002009-08-30T22:53:41.772-05:00Countdown to Austin Tri<span style="font-family:verdana;">Yeah yeah, I know I owe you a race report from the Sweet and Twisted. Maybe I'll write more later but suffice to say that I enjoyed seeing all my friends but the race kicked my butt and really made me doubt my fitness for the Austin </span><span style="font-family:verdana;">Tri</span><span style="font-family:verdana;">. </span><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:verdana;" >Sweet & Twisted Results</span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;">Overall time - 02:14:20</span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;">500 meter swim - 00:13:41</span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;">15 mile bike - 01:07:10</span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;">5k run - 00:43:26</span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;">Overall Place - 354/495</span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;">Age Group Place - 94/125 <span style="font-style: italic;">(So many bad ass triathletes in my age group!)</span></span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;">However, those same friends plus a few others talked me into keeping my Olympic distance spot and not switching to the shorter, sprint distance. My last few workouts have given me some more confidence, too.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;">First, I ran a full 6 miles last Saturday and 7 miles yesterday and felt pretty darn good. The run course for Austin is flat and even- particularly when compared to the off road trails of </span><span style="font-family:verdana;">Danskin and the races at Pace bend (Champions tri</span><span style="font-family:verdana;"> and Sweet & Twisted).</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;">I know I can do the bike distance- I've been riding 25 miles consistently on my Sunday rides- and again, this ride only has two hills to speak of- three if you count the easy rise toward the Capitol.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;">Now for the swim- I know I can do this distance. I guess I'm most anxious about this because my wave starts so late that I'll be in the water with the Sprinters- which means I'll be on the course will a lot of Sprinters. And I'll be finishing after a lot of Sprinters. I don't want to be last. </span><span style="font-family:verdana;">Uhg</span><span style="font-family:verdana;">. </span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;">But the Olympic is important to me. It's been my goal race all year and if I chickened out and did the sprint, I don't think I'd have the same satisfaction. And I will have set a baseline for Olympics for next year. And I will have fun my first timed 10k.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;">So for this week its hydrate hydrate hydrate, </span><span style="font-family:verdana;">responsible</span><span style="font-family:verdana;"> eating and (relatively) <span style=";font-family:verdana;font-size:100%;" >early bedtimes.</span></span><span style=";font-family:verdana;font-size:100%;" ><br /><br />I know. I'm outta control.</span><br /><a style="font-weight: bold;" href="http://www.theaustintriathlon.com/"><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;">Austin Triathlon Info</span></a><br /><a style="font-family: verdana; font-weight: bold;" href="http://www.redlicoriceevents.com/events/SweetTwistedTRI.html">Sweet & Twisted Triathlon Info</a>Carolhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03608063616153763724noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5850387728720783443.post-74188310176785238342009-08-12T00:23:00.000-05:002009-08-12T00:40:27.696-05:00Gearing Up for the Sweet & Twisted Tri!<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhszIsLHGlNlG4TjeUxAz_1eHuB65_vkEVCbIyuOs2WmuYcu-d3GNnOPeHdvkcYs_aQT_LWSrDCkcXKemxLOU8NOsnZK4UGzv330_Lg2MR6DaNtoG-byb_yXR0OzYjLEMgXwyKlw1IQjQY/s1600-h/S&T_logo_badge250.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 173px; height: 200px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhszIsLHGlNlG4TjeUxAz_1eHuB65_vkEVCbIyuOs2WmuYcu-d3GNnOPeHdvkcYs_aQT_LWSrDCkcXKemxLOU8NOsnZK4UGzv330_Lg2MR6DaNtoG-byb_yXR0OzYjLEMgXwyKlw1IQjQY/s200/S&T_logo_badge250.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5368947563795799858" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;">It's Tuesday night. </span> <span style="font-family:verdana;"><br />Four days away from my birthday.</span> <span style="font-family:verdana;"><br />Five days from the Sweet & Twisted Triathlon.<br /><br />Sunday's race a nice sprint distance: 500 meter swim. (300 m run to T1) 15 mile bike. 5k run.</span> <span style="font-family:verdana;">The water levels are low so they've snuck a little extra run in there- but that may be to my advantage. It could get my legs a little more warmed up for the bike. At least, that's what I'm telling myself.</span> <span style="font-family:verdana;"><br /><br />I have a goal in mind. I want to break my 5k PR (personal record) with this race. Not my tri 5k- but my overall 5k. Today my PR is just under 39 minutes. I think I can do it.</span> <span style="font-family:verdana;"><br /><br />Tonight's swim was really solid. We swam 5 100m's that I kept a near perfect 2:30 with :15 seconds rest in between each. We then pulled for 200 m as recovery and swam 5 more 100m that I, again, kept steady. With these times, I think I can do the 500m swim in 12-14 minutes (I mean it is open water, people).</span> <span style="font-family:verdana;"><br /><br />Goals for the week:</span> <span style="font-family:verdana;"><br />1. Stay hydrated</span> <span style="font-family:verdana;"><br />2. Eat well- really well.</span> <span style="font-family:verdana;"><br />3. Train easy</span> <span style="font-family:verdana;"><br />4. Kick ass on race day</span>Carolhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03608063616153763724noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5850387728720783443.post-19617899586295827142009-08-01T17:49:00.000-05:002009-08-01T18:20:50.812-05:00Saturday 8/1Ah... August 1st. Two weeks before my 38th birthday. Thirty-freaking-eight.<br />I can't say its not as I pictured- since I didn't really think about what I'd be like at 38. But I know that I have lots things left on my "list" - including the Olympic distance tri.<br /><br /><br />I rate my overall workout a B- this week.<br />Made it to core, one out of 2 team runs (ran on my own today) and 1 out of 2 swims. Biking with Mamma Jammas tomorrow.<br />Core was a series of planks and pilates type moves.<br /><br />Run was a variation on Ruth's ladder:<br /><ul><li>Ran about a mile to warm up, then</li><li>4 minutes hard, 2 minutes recovery</li><li>3 minutes hard, 1:30 minutes recovery</li><li>2 minutes hard, 1 minute recovery</li><li>1 minute all out, :30 seconds recovery</li><li>then a mile jog back to Rogue. </li></ul>I didn't walk during any of the recoveries- progress!<br /><br />The swim workout was another pretty solid effort, I think. Maintained a time of 4:55 for all three "steady" 200 m sets. And we're back in a 25 meter pool, woo!<br /><br />I missed today's team long run but made it up later with the hound at my side. And in front of me.. and then on the other side. Although he's getting better at staying at my right on the trail- especially after the first mile or so. After the run, I let him play off leash in the quieter part of Auditorium shores and he did really really well. Came back when called, played well with others- even took a quick dip in the river.<br />The run was supposed to be 60 minutes but I think we managed only about 40- but its better than only doing 30!<br /><br />Hoping to squeeze in 2 more runs this next week- for a total of 4. Need to be able to get through that 10K at the end of September's Austin Tri!Carolhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03608063616153763724noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5850387728720783443.post-71984610935714730332009-07-25T17:00:00.000-05:002009-07-25T17:08:24.185-05:00Not exactly the start I was planning onAfter talking myself into getting geared up for these two athletic events, I have already messed up my training plans.<br />I missed today's 7:30 am run. The alarm went off, and I just wasn't ready to face the day. I didn't have a late night I just needed more sleep. So, another important practice wasted. I did take Johnny down to the trail for what I hoped would be a jog, but it was just too hot. I need to ADD run workouts to my week, not skip them.<br />Will try to get a 15-20 minute run in after tomorrow's J&A ride.<br /><br />Then I was reminded that the pool we're practicing in is YARDS, not meters. Great. 25 years is roughly equal to just less than 23 meters.<br />So I swam 6 x 100 YARDS with my slowest at 1:55 and my fastest at 1:52 so pleased with my swim effort. Now to get that to translate to my run.Carolhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03608063616153763724noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5850387728720783443.post-30592648027426289732009-07-22T22:55:00.000-05:002009-07-22T23:17:57.902-05:00Big September, Big October<span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;">Tuesday was a big day for me. With the encouragement of my coach and training buddies, I began to rethink the olympic distance at the </span><a style="font-family: trebuchet ms;" href="http://www.theaustintriathlon.com/">Austin Tri</a><span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"> instead of the sprint distance. I also formally signed up for the </span><a style="font-family: trebuchet ms;" href="http://www.mammajammaride.org/">Texas Mamma Jamma Ride</a><span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"> for Breast Cancer. </span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;">Labor Day, September 7th is the Austin Triathlon. If I sign up for the olympic distance I will be swimming for 1500 meters, riding a bike for 40 kilometers (roughly 25 miles, then running a 10k (about 6.2 miles). Seriously, who does this?</span><br /><span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;">The good news is that it should be wetsuit legal- which makes that swim a little more manageable. Now I know I can do the bike. I completed a similar distance (slightly different route) earlier this year and maintained a decent 16.7 MPH average. But I've never competed in a 10k. Funny that my first 10k would be at the end of a tri!</span><br /><span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;">But Amy thinks I can do it. Allison and Stacy think I can do it. So what if I walk more than I'd like- I know I'll finish. </span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;">Now for the Mamma Jamma ride. It takes place on October 10th and I want to do it right. To date, my longerst ride is 33 miles. I'm training for 65. Yeah. 65 miles. I rode with the Mamma Jammas last Sunday and I really enjoyed the company of the other riders. I also like that the training program is free! This makes me think that the spirit of the race is to encourage people to participate somehow- even if they aren't able to to the fundraising.</span><br /><span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;">Uhg, Fundraising. Few things make me as uncomfortable as asking others for money. But I beleive in this cause. And I think I can make a difference in someone's life- So I will get over my trepidation, suck it up and ask the question. </span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;">So just a few more months of training before I ease off for the winter... </span><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold; font-family: trebuchet ms;">Training Notes:</span><br /><span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;">Sun 7/19: 24 mile ride with Mamma Jammas (no time avail)</span><br /><span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;">Mon 7/20: missed core due to work</span><br /><span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;">Tues 7/21: swim highlight 100m = 1:45</span><br /><span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;">Wed 7/22: missed run due to work, but was "lighteninged" out anyway</span><br /><br /></span>Carolhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03608063616153763724noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5850387728720783443.post-60697393257879278582009-04-26T22:25:00.000-05:002009-04-26T23:10:55.340-05:00Shhhh... It's Twiathlon Season... I'm Hunting PRs...<span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">Wow. That's is a twisty title isn't it? It's like Elmer Fudd meets Runner's World and I think it's only funny to me. I would say I'm hunting "twiathletes" but after my performance at Saturday's Champion's super Sprint, I have some serious work to do before I'm any sort of threat.</span> <span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">It doesn't make things any easier knowing that woman in my age group are super competitive- and will be this way for the next ten years. </span> <span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><br /><br />What didn't go right:</span> <ul style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"><li>Didn't eat as well as I should have the 4-5 days leading up to the race. Next time: less processed food and more chicken and brown rice.</li><li>Poor sleep the night before: not sure if this was just nerves or what. I ended up getting out of bed a 2am and cranking the AC down to 68 to try to make it more comfortable. Next time: work on sleep patterns so 4:50 doesn't feel so damn early.<br /></li><li>Swim- I never got into my long smooth stride. Next time: I'll take the time to warm up.</li><li>Bike - no hill power. Next time: time for hill repeat training sessions and time to get reacquainted with Southwest Parkway</li><li>Run- I had plenty in the tank for really run it out in the end. Next time- push it, even if its a short distance. Also, more bike-to-run bricks</li></ul><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">What rocked:</span> <ul style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"><li>I scored a great transition spot near Bike In/Out</li><li>I was properly hydrated and fueled for the race</li><li>Despite not finding my stroke for the swim, I met my goal of about 8 minutes for 300ish meters</li><li>Hearing my friends yell my name on the bike course</li><li>Hearing strangers and fellow competiors give me encouragement on the run<br /></li><li>I finished strong- with a little too much left in the tank, but I have a better idea of what I'm capable of.</li><li>A Fireman's 4 in one hand and a vanilla frosty cone in the other</li></ul><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">My race was a super sprint: 300m swim, 12 mile bike, 2 mile run.</span> <span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">I finished about 15 minutes past my overall goal- so I'm considering this a reality check.</span> <span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">Today I volunteered for the Olympic distance tri and watched both the amateurs and the pros/elites including two of my coaches: Amy Marsh and Brandon Marsh. Watching the elites was truly inspiring- fluid, powerful, strong. It makes me want to work harder.</span> <span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">So what does tomorrow's run have in store? Hills? Sweet. Bring it.<br /></span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpqMKrm0eSAcOH43kuGQMYmkWWWZwoQeTouzs3NL4gjb4CxvklJtQKUbLp9xaYlyyAOBnJimZHSrhwQv58ShBQiCkmZZe_CkjCTpJZNIWvEzXRFiXxhENeyhblUyXi2gOgSm0vR6ZW-jw/s1600-h/Champ2009.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 274px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpqMKrm0eSAcOH43kuGQMYmkWWWZwoQeTouzs3NL4gjb4CxvklJtQKUbLp9xaYlyyAOBnJimZHSrhwQv58ShBQiCkmZZe_CkjCTpJZNIWvEzXRFiXxhENeyhblUyXi2gOgSm0vR6ZW-jw/s320/Champ2009.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5329218768218292450" border="0" /></a>Carolhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03608063616153763724noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5850387728720783443.post-232391603265342762009-03-24T01:08:00.000-05:002009-03-27T01:21:00.595-05:00Gimme More: SXSW 2009 (Wednesday & Thursday)<span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">I was going to lead off with how important music is to me and how critical it is to my sanity and creativity but I really just want to get to the music so .. let's do this:</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">SXSW</span> 2009 as heard through the ears of yours truly.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:trebuchet ms;" >Wednesday night.</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">The goal was </span><span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(204, 0, 0);font-family:trebuchet ms;" >Echo and the <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">Bunnymen</span></span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"> at <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">Emo's</span> main room. I'd had a beer earlier at the Thirsty Nickel and watched a few songs by Boston frat rock band </span><span style="color: rgb(204, 0, 0); font-weight: bold;font-family:trebuchet ms;" ><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">Lansdowne</span></span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">. Not awful. Not remarkable. They even had their fan base in front- college-<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">ish</span> looking guys in plaid shorts and golf shirts raising their Bud Lights in the air.</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">Unfortunately, I didn't make it into the show at <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5">Emo's</span>. The long line of badge holders continued to grow as we <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6">wristbanders</span> could only look on with scowling faces. But I learned an important lesson:</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">Learn what you can from your line buddies. I became line buddies with 4-5 people that night. We compared notes on past shows and what <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7">SXSW</span> acts we planned to see (provided we could get in of course). It was as much a part of the experience as watching the bands themselves- and you can learn a lot.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:trebuchet ms;" >Thursday</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">I headed straight to Red 7 for the Found/Quack Media Party. (</span><a style="font-family: trebuchet ms;" href="http://www.foundmagazine.com/">Found Magazine</a><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"> - go there. Wonder if you'll ever recognize <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8">something</span> form your past. Dismiss it. Laugh it off. And find yourself checking the site on a semi-regular basis. Or maybe that's just me).</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">There I caught the end of </span><span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(153, 0, 0);font-family:trebuchet ms;" >the Hard Lessons' </span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">sweat inducing set. I need a second shot at these guys. They put on an energetic stage show and the guitarist/vocalist was the first of several acts to incorporate the tent supports into the act (he hung his guitar by its strap from one of the metal beams and let it play while he crawled like monkey above the crowd.</span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(153, 0, 0);font-family:trebuchet ms;" ><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9">Lucero</span></span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"> and the </span><span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0); font-weight: bold;font-family:trebuchet ms;" >Hold Steady</span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"> followed. I enjoyed <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10">Lucero</span> quite a bit- but I'm still needing to be sold on the Hold Steady. The enthusiasm of the crowd is causing some <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11">dissonance</span> with my perception of the band- why am I not into them?</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">Leaving the Red 7, I lingered at <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12">Emo's</span> annex for </span><span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0); font-weight: bold;font-family:trebuchet ms;" ><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_13">Micachu</span></span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">- a girl who's making a name for herself in experimental dance music. I'm not going to rush out and buy her songs- but if she opens for a band I like, I'd arrive at the show on time to check her out again.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(153, 0, 0);font-family:trebuchet ms;" >Peter Murphy</span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"> was next on my schedule- I waited in line an hour with some really cool people and was finally allowed into the dark shadows of Elysium. Gay or British? Who cares? He owns it. Peter's voice has an uncanny resemblance to Neil Diamond's which I find both alarming and comforting at the same time. Primarily due to my <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Electra_complex">Electra-like</a> fascination with Neil Diamond. He didn't sing any of my favorites off Cascade- but he played to the audience the whole time- with extended dramatic poses and arched eyebrows. He engaged the audience- <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_14">responding</span> to questions and asking his own. </span><br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;font-family:trebuchet ms;" >Forgive me. I am totally blanking on what I did between about 8:45pm and 11.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">At 11pm I went to the Velveeta Room for </span><span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(153, 0, 0);font-family:trebuchet ms;" >Elliott Brood</span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">. The Canadian trio has been referred to as a "black grass" or "<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_15">hellbilly</span>" band. With the incorporation of mandolins, banjos, a pedal bass and the obligatory train drumbeat- they twist all preconceived notions once they begin singing. Between the singer's raspy vocals and their lyrics- you know this isn't some other alt-country band. Not only that, but for one number, they passed out pots and pans with wooden spoons so the audience could bang along. <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_16">Awesome</span>, I'm keeping mine in the bar.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">So its true. I came for the Brood but I stayed for <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_17">Doucet</span>. <span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0); font-weight: bold;">Luke </span><span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0); font-weight: bold;" class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_18">Doucet</span>. The man can write songs. And the man knows his way around a guitar. the lyrics of his songs are dark, introspective, and direct. "You've got to have a heart to have a broken one." Ouch. Now come over here and tell me all about it, sugar.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">Again... I saw some more bands that I can't remember offhand- until it comes to <span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(153, 0, 0);">Phil Marshall</span>. an unassuming fellow until the music starts. Of all the 6<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_19">th</span> Street bars that hosted unofficial <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_20">SXSW</span> showcases, Spill was one of the best equipped. From what I could hear, Phil presented some of the more commercial stuff up front- but I felt his set got better with each song. He's got a sweet longing in his voice without sounding desperate or whiny.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">Again, I lose a little time. Unsure if I called it a night after that or if there were more bands... I'll check my notes. And include anything I left out in the Friday write up. </span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">Treat yourself to something new:</span><br /><span style=";font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:130%;" ><span style="font-weight: bold;">Elliot BROOD</span></span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">One of my favorite songs </span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><object width="480" height="295"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/eJ3wgQjGEgU&hl=en&fs=1"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/eJ3wgQjGEgU&hl=en&fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="480" height="295"></embed></object></span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">The video that started it all (note that the character Joseph Bower, the character who gets the telegram in the beginning of the video, is my great grandfather. </span><a style="font-family: trebuchet ms;" href="http://www.ambassadorbridge.com/history2.html">Read more about him and the bridge</a><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><object width="425" height="344"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/qZqvz33PQog&hl=en&fs=1"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/qZqvz33PQog&hl=en&fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"></embed></object></span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">Why I ended up with a baking pan and a wooden spoon at the end of the night</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><object width="425" height="344"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/T0MV_AU_-Kg&hl=en&fs=1"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/T0MV_AU_-Kg&hl=en&fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"></embed></object></span><br /><br /><span style=";font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:130%;" ><span style="font-weight: bold;">New discovery: Luke <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_21">Doucet</span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><object width="425" height="344"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/rptoSYZ6Z1A&hl=en&fs=1"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/rptoSYZ6Z1A&hl=en&fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"></embed></object></span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">Luke's other project, Veal.</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><object width="425" height="344"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/o00LmKKSFQo&hl=en&fs=1"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/o00LmKKSFQo&hl=en&fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"></embed></object></span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><object width="425" height="344"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/EtL_E_33yXE&hl=en&fs=1"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/EtL_E_33yXE&hl=en&fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"></embed></object></span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">Phil Marshall</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><object width="425" height="344"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/aH7C9p18dV0&hl=en&fs=1"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/aH7C9p18dV0&hl=en&fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"></embed></object></span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">Stay tuned for Friday and Saturday posts!</span>Carolhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03608063616153763724noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5850387728720783443.post-19155960773729051082008-11-23T21:49:00.000-06:002008-11-23T21:56:12.533-06:00I am Being Stalked by the Wienermobile<span style="font-family:verdana;"><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-style: italic;">Originally posted on MySpace 2/15/2007</span></span><br /><br />Its cold. It's the day after Valentine's Day. I'm already late for work by the time I step out of the shower and wrap a towel turban around my head.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;">As I walk from the sink to the closet, a burst of orange catches my eye. Just below my third story window is the Wienermobile.</span><br /><div style="text-align: center; font-family: verdana;"><br /><br /><img src="http://i144.photobucket.com/albums/r169/canonero/w-mobile2-14-2007.jpg" /><br /><br /><div style="text-align: left;">Interesting.<br /></div></div><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;">Generally some fresh flowers or a little note will do but since I was on my own this time, I accepted this giant phallus as a gift from the universe. The kind of gift that bends you over a hot dog cart and reminds you who's boss. Oh yeah. You're fucked.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;">I do get a little nostalgic when it comes to the Wienermobile. It makes me think of Sundays at Nun's Beach in Capitola when I and 300 other happy campers (literally) invaded the beach- no matter how fucking cold and windy it was. We all sported red bathing suits and our proud green Kennolyn camp teeshirts and sweatshirts (is that yours? no? is it mine? no? where's yours? who's is that?). </span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;">We had to have a buddy when we went into the the water and when the lifeguard blasted two whistles, we sloshed through the sea to grasp the shivering hands of our buddies and raise them up high to prove that a) we were cool enough to have another person who wanted to be our buddy and b) we were good little rule followers.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;">When the lifeguard was satisfied no one had drifted off into the bay, he let out another whistle and we were again free to bounce up and down in the waves and dig our toes into the sand.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;">But that wasn't the best part. Neither was the hike up to the nunnery to use the bathroom- although that was a close second. You try pulling on your cold, wet one piece bathing suit followed by stiff sandy jeans after getting nearly completely naked just to take a piss. Only assholes peed in the ocean. So I guess that makes all those happy sea creatures assholes. Even sea otters. </span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;">The best part was "dinner". A special place was roped off with a few dozen "firepits" (read- holes dug into the sand with lit briquettes). This is when they busted out the roasting sticks and hot dogs. I always found that sliding the hot dog on lengthwise versus piercing it through the middle made for a more thoroughly cooked weenie. But it also increased the sand to dog ratio. </span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;">Once we were fairly certain the dog was mostly cooked- it had begun to sweat a little, maybe plump up some- we slipped that puppy into the cold bun that we had doctored up with a little ketchup and relish. By the time I got to the mustard packet, I lost my motor skills and ended up squirting Mandy Walsh on the knee. So into the bun the dog goes then into the mouth. It tastes like this: cold-soft bun, waaay hot casing, slight crunch as you bite through it, then slightly warmed inside and crunch. Sand.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;">Sand in your mouth, sand in your crotch, sand in your hair and your belly button. As you eat you feel the salt from the ocean drying on your face and mixing with the slight sunburn across your cheeks and nose (they used to call that "healthy color"). When you lick your lips you can taste it and your lips feel parched even though they are wet and you know that what your thirst for is simply water.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;">So... let's return to the present. Its oh.. 10 pm CST in Austin Texas. I'm puttering around in my suite and I look out the window again. And there it is. The Wienermobile. This time its using a tourbus as a decoy- and its parked several yards away- but I know its there. You can see it too. Just look.</span><br /><div style="text-align: center; font-family: verdana;"><br /><br /><img src="http://i144.photobucket.com/albums/r169/canonero/wbstalk.jpg" /> </div>Carolhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03608063616153763724noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5850387728720783443.post-90073064528386795122008-11-23T21:45:00.000-06:002008-11-23T21:47:11.759-06:00Why I Love Autumn: Reason 10<span style="font-style: italic;font-size:85%;" >Originally posted on MySpace 10/24/2007</span><br /><br /><p class="blogSubject">Why I Love Autumn: Reason 10 </p> <p class="blogContent"> </p><p><span style="font-family:Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Last night I rediscovered my favorite hoodie in the whole entire world and I put it on for the first time in forever and it felt like football and orange leaves and soft blankets and loving backrubs and macaroni & cheese like my mom makes and oak burning in a fireplace and a full bodied cabernet and a puppy curled up next to me...</span></p> <p><span style="font-family:Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I stole it. I adopted it. I wooed it. I seduced it.</span></p> <p><span style="font-family:Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">It was his. It was his favorite color. All but the teeny patch of silver sparkley stuff on the back that he didn't notice when he first bought it. To this day he'll swear that he allowed me to take it but I know he was sad to see it go. Green suited us both. His house was cold and I was deliberately ill prepared in my white v-neck tee shirts. </span></p> <p><span style="font-family:Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">He spilled beer on it. I spilled whiskey on it AND washed it with fabric softener. He worked on the car with it, I wore it to football games. He let the dogs get to it one morning. I coaxed it from their slobbery jaws with the promise of pup-per-oni treats. I'd wear it with nothing else but socks in the mornings, drinking coffee, using the hood to dry my damp hair.</span></p> <p><span style="font-family:Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">And now, its mine. Somewhat dingy, somewhat shabby, the smell of him long gone and replaced with memories of better and worse times, the soft downy fleece replaced with the gentle nubbiness old sweatshirts get. The hood string has ripped through the fabric and is tied in an unloosenable knot. </span></p> <p><span style="font-family:Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">To replace it is unthinkable.</span></p>Carolhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03608063616153763724noreply@blogger.com0