Breaking the rules and busting concrete

        In fitness, we often follow certain "rules" and go about things logically. We carry notebooks with detailed workouts scribbled on the pages. We have training plans that we follow as if it were our job to do what it says, every day. Fitness magazines proclaim to have the "rules" of weight loss, injury prevention, setting a PR; I could go on and on. Having a plan and supreme dedication is great for anyone trying to reach a goal...until it's not.

     People often set out towards a goal with the idea that if they follow a certain dogma, they will be successful. I like to think of this as the "baking" approach to success: you put these specific and carefully measured ingredients in, mix them a bit, and you get a (delicious) masterpiece out. The problem is, life isn't constantly set at 350 degrees. Nor is it an oven that cooks evenly. Just because you put the ingredients in doesn't mean that you will get the expected outcome. I prefer to take a "cooking" sort of approach. You have a recipe, (i.e. your plan, workout, set of rules) but you don't necessarily have to follow it to the very last dash of salt. You can add more of something that you particularly like, and omit something that you don't.

      In case my strange metaphor is too outlandish, what I mean is that it's okay for training to be a bit spontaneous. There are far too many factors that go into fitness for anybody to be too tied to a set routine. In fact, doing the same thing, week after week, is detrimental to progress. Even if the variables of the workouts are changing, if the skeleton of the workouts is the same, the same response (and possibly staleness) can be expected. The phrase "listen to your body" cannot be overused. If you feel great on an "easy" day, go for it. By the same token, if you feel like you just got peeled off of the asphalt from your last workout, don't do a planned interval session just because it was planned. Hard workouts are tough to skip mentally, because you know that they are the ones that ultimately make you stronger and faster. However, it's important to keep an eye on the grand scheme of things, and to be comfortable with the fact that it's okay to skip/change a workout. Aspirations can kick the common sense out of anyone. Trying to tell someone trying to qualify for Boston (or Kona, or whatever) that it's okay to skip a track workout is like talking to a brick wall, but it's so true.

   Sure, one way to get injured is by not having a plan. But another way to get injured is to be too stressed out about training and following a plan. A problem that I (and I'm sure at least a few others) have is that I take a logical and concrete viewpoint with most of the issues I face. Although it's a positive some of the time, things can get a little boring. Training harder is rarely the answer; oftentimes we just need to take the challenge of training with more of a "freeness". I think we're all guilty of taking ourselves too seriously. Maybe we should give busting out of the concrete a try.

     I'm not saying that you should return all of your training books, throw your multi-page training plan into the recycling bin, or that you should rip the calendar off of the wall. But what I am saying is to look at your training through an abstract lens every once and a while. Do a workout simply because you want to. Lift some weights instead of slaving away on a trainer or treadmill when a thunderstorm ruins the plan (um, unless you like those torture devices). Take an easy run somewhere beautiful and leave your watch at home. Have a plan, but follow it loosely. Be dedicated, but be smart. Break the rules and bust out of the concrete. I promise it feels pretty good.

   

   

Crashing isn't always a bad thing

         Allow me to preface this post with this: although everything I'm about to say is about metaphorical crashing, these ideas blossomed from an actual crash I had last weekend while riding my bike. One painful shower, 2 nasty cuts, a couple of bruises, and scattered road rash later, I realized that crashing isn't always a bad thing. Instead of being angry at the few scratches on my bike and my poor riding ability, I was instead grateful that I didn't break any bones and that everything that went wrong could be fixed. I realized that this is true when you metaphorically "crash"; such as doing poorly on an exam, making a mistake at work, or pushing a little too hard in a workout. All of these situations present an opportunity to learn, not an opportunity to be upset.

        The key here is that you must learn from what you did wrong. History becomes the present if you don't take the time to assess why something happened and what can be done to avoid its recurrence. Oftentimes, we want to mentally push mistakes out of our lives by trying to forget them completely. But that doesn't help us moving forward.  What helps us become better people and better athletes is taking the time to find out what works and what doesn't. It takes patience and courage to face your own shortcomings, but it's so worth it in the long run.

      It has been said that we should live life with no regrets; that we shouldn't want to change a thing from the past. Although this is invariably true, it has always been a hard concept for me to grasp. Of course, I wouldn't be who I am today if I hadn't made all of the mistakes and had certain experiences. But sometimes I can't help but wonder how different life would be if this or that didn't happen...and that's not the right mentality to have.  One of the biggest favors that we can do for ourselves is keep our perspective in the moment--because it's the only thing we can deal with right here and right now. Part of growing is accepting that you've messed up and not extrapolating to the future.

      As I begin my Boston training, I've been determined not to make the same mistakes I made when training for Disney. Luckily, I have my training log (which I kept obsessively and plan to do so again) so that I can point to what may have sent me down injury row. It's almost comical how stupid I was in training for that race. There was a 2 month stretch where I stacked hard workout after hard workout on top of each other like a couple of Jenga blocks. My tower only half fell over, because I made it successfully through the race. But I've been picking up the pieces ever since, and I don't want that to happen again. I'm willing to work really hard over the next 4 months, but my goal is to be fit and  healthy as I toe that line. I just want to enjoy the race without the possibility of injuring myself.

      In the moment, crashing feels awful. After I realized that I didn't die and got my helmet dislodged from the asphalt, I just sat on the road, wondering how I managed to flip my bike on an innocent group ride. After a bit of grumbling and a couple miles of riding later, I understood how lucky I was that I didn't break any bones or get a concussion. My shifters on my bike were a little out of whack, but they could be easily fixed. I guess what I'm trying to say is that very few crashes are ever beyond repair.

Three of the things that I've learned this year from my crashes:
Take one day at a time, only give what you expect in return, and believe that things will work out.

      

      

Love What you Do. Do What You Love.

      There’s that universal non-runner reaction that you get when you tell someone that you started off your day with a 6 mile run: “The only reason I would run 6 miles is if a bear was chasing me.” Or, sometimes they are less polite and simply ask, “What was chasing you?”  From one vantage point, training for endurance events is aimless or on the borderline of crazy. From another, it is a saving grace, a sense of normalcy, a constant. Sometimes it’s less poetic, and our reason for sweating for an hour or more is simply to make some room on our dinner plate. No matter the reason (and we all have our own), training has a special place in our lives.

       Endurance athletes are a unique group of people who share the same challenges of smashing PR’s, avoiding injury, and carving time out of every day to train. Most of us realize that although this lifestyle is built on the principle of staying healthy and fit, there are aspects of it that are clearly unhealthy. Recently I read about the “endurance athlete cycle”, which went something like this: train, injury, rehab. At first, I was angered at this simplification of the form of training that I love the most. But as I kept reading and pondering, I realized that this describes my training life perfectly. Oops.

     What are the reasons for this cycle? The list is extensive, but it centers around Type A personality, improper training technique, and (most surprising) overtraining. My eyes began to resist reading any further. It hurts to agree with an article bashing something that you love so deeply. Training high volumes is only healthy for those who can handle it, i.e. professional and elite athletes. These lucky people have the right combination of genes that allows them to handle more than us mortals. For those of us who are less fortunate, trying to train enough to crest our potential usually results in musculoskeletal injury.

    There is an important distinction between exercise and training. Exercise is purposeful movement with the goal of improving health. Training is purposeful exercise with the goal of improving performance. Honestly, most of us would be better off with the former rather than the latter.  Most of us wear our training hours like a badge of honor, but past a certain point, more is not better. I hate to expound upon the personality argument, but people like us think more is better in all situations. We race through grocery stores or to class. We’ll take any opportunity to make a competition out of everyday life, and strive to be the best if it seems within our realm. Training is sort of like following the directions on a medicine bottle. Take too little at the wrong time, and a less than desirable effect will follow. Take too much, and you’re in trouble. Unfortunately, people don’t come with labels, but we all have a level of training that our bodies respond the best to. How do you find that level, you ask? Well, as you may have guessed, the only way to really know is to get dangerously close to that threshold—which is like trying to walk a tight rope across the Great Divide. As someone who has been down Overtraining Road more than a few times, I know that you are aware when you get close to the edge. Doing something about it, however, is a whole other story.

     So, then, what is the reason for the endurance athlete cycle? Although the answer is complicated (as stated above), I can answer it in one, simple, word: Love.

    Love for the people that we sweat with. Love for that feeling you get when you cross a finish line and receive a “you did it” hug. Love for the sight of the sun rising over a morning run. Love for gossiping across the handlebars and laughing at stupid jokes after riding for too long. Love for the camaraderie that we share.

    No matter the reason, training is a light in all of our lives. It’s kind of like a faithful dog, always sitting there with you as it’s only attention. All of the other reasons aside, the most comforting thing about training is that it is always there.

Love what you do. Do what you love.

My Favorite Exercises, and Why

1. Squat
The squat is a two-joint beauty of an exercise. Nothing is better for strengthening the glutes, quads, and hamstrings all in one nice, fluid motion (at least it should be). I love the variations: front squat, back squat, wide stance, narrow stance...I could go on and on. My favorite thing about the squat, though is looking the knee-buckling bro's in the gym straight in the eye as I bend properly from the hips and get down past a 90 degree knee angle. And without the grunting. Okay, actually that is my second favorite thing. My absolute favorite (related) thing about the squat is how proper squat form can just make your hips...work. I don't really know a better word for it. Hip mobility is important for a wide range of activity; and one could argue that all lower extremity running injuries originate from a hip mobility/strength deficit. Squats are number one in my book.

2. Bench Press

Yes, I am aware that if I am not an offensive lineman who pushes people around in the sagittal plane all day, the bench press has no functional purpose. I suppose you could justify it if your looking for pectoral hypertrophy, but that's obviously not the reason, as I'm a girl triathlete who still desires to fit in my tri top. The reason I like the bench press is purely because  there's some weird sense of satisfaction that comes along with lifting more than your body weight off of your chest. Try doing that with half the muscle, boys!

3. Renegade Row

I love rows to begin with. They are great for opening up the chest, scapular mobility, and strengthening the back and lats-two really important swimming muscles. I like all the variations: Seated, bent over, single arm or bilateral bench, standing on a bosu ball...but I LOVE the renegade row. Any chance you get to work a major muscle group plus the core, do it. This variation work on your chest and core isometrically, all the while teaching your moving arm to generate torque and power with only one contact on the ground. BOOM. Great exercise.

4. Pull ups

Nothing says "I am classy, old school, and hardcore" as knocking out set of pull ups in the gym. In a world of heavy weight cheaters, you stand alone as one who doesn't need a bench to show you've got muscles. These have many variations as well, and it's easy to manipulate if you want to hit one muscle group more than the other. It's the perfect thing to cure someone of their "too much chest exercise syndrome" (also called hyperpectoria) and is the best way to load the lats. I argue that it's best for triathletes because it better mimics the way one pulls their body over the water than a lat pulldown does.

5. The Plank

It may not look like much, but the plank is the gold star of core exercises. It's one of the few that expounds upon it's role in everyday life: keeping us upright and coordinated in movement. The role of the core is stabilization, with the exception of sports that involve rotation such as swimming, baseball, and tennis. However, to train the core for these sports you don't have train the rotation, you have to train to control the rotation. The plank, along with it's variations, should be a staple in most exercise routines. Plus, it can be used as a mental toughness tool when performed for longer than 5 minutes (not recommended, your back will sag in a way you thought not possible)

6. Bicep Curls

Change

        "Everyone has the capacity for change, but not everyone is willing to change."

      Sometimes we are at a loss. We have these awesome, intricate, powerful, and frankly enigmatic brains in our heads, but yet most of the time we don't know how to use them. We oftentimes don't--or feel that we don't--have control over the only thing in this world in which we, in reality, have complete control. Our brains can integrate and respond so quickly to the environment because we fall into patterns of use based on past experiences and traits that are inherent to who we are. Another, more familiar word for these patterns is personality. All too often, people accept who they are as if they cannot change, or cannot grow. I'm not saying that everyone should psychoanalyze themselves, but I am saying that changing behavior is more possible than you think.

      Neuroplasticity is the concept that new synaptic connections can be made in the brain when performing new tasks or experiencing new things. Put simply, this means that neurons that weren't previously talking to each other are now in full conversation. This allows us to perform new exercises, learn a new song, or understand a new concept in school. This can be applied even to the most ingrained behaviors, it just takes a little extra effort and a good support system.

      The reason why people who want behavior change (for example, losing weight) have nutritionists, personal trainers, and training partners is not only because they need the advice and expertise, but also because they need to be surrounded by people who model the change that they want to see in themselves. Other people are our most powerful tool when it comes to change. For some reason, people are programmed to observe and learn from other people, perhaps sometimes because it is easier than deciphering a problem on our own. We all know this to be true. For example, when you are around one of those (rare) happy-go-lucky people, you start to feel that way too; even if you are in the midst of a terrible day. Attitude is contagious, and getting rid of a bad attitude isn't as simple as washing your hands.

     Of course, the aforementioned example is just in the time frame a a single day or moment. But what about chronic change? What about life shapes us into who we are in the present? That's right, it's the sum of those single moments and single situations that make us react and grow. But the only way we grow in change is through an intrinsic drive; an open door, if you will. Open-mindedness can be tough, especially when dealing with something as special as yourself. The effort that it takes to hold that heavy door open is worth it when there is something that you want but don't have.

   Nobody is perfect, and no one should want to be perfect. Imperfection is what makes the world go round and makes life fun. But if you want something of yours to change for the better, it is completely in your control. There is never a reason to believe that you aren't in the driver's seat of your life train. In the words of Dr. Seuss: "You have brains in your head and feet in your shoes, and you can take them in any direction you choose."

   

Opportunities/Suncoast RR

        As I receive e-mails about registration for the spring semester, I find myself absolutely terrified about the future. I have 2 more semesters and an internship left, and I'm wondering where the heck the past 2.5 years have gone. I'm coming to this bitter realization that college life must end and actual life must begin...and soon. I know that nothing is ever crystal clear, but the cloudiness ahead worries me. I'm not quite sure where I fit in this world.

    All of this had me worried sick over the past couple of weeks, but I've taken some time also to stop and feel grateful for all of the opportunities that I have been given while attending the University of Florida. I've had the chance to personal train at one of the best collegiate recreational facilities in the country. What had seemed like a dream when I asked about the personal training class during my first summer here in Gainesville is now a reality. I've learned so much from the great staff we have in the PT department and from training for 4 semesters now. Every time I walk into Southwest Recreational center with the letters "Personal Trainer" printed on the back of my shirt, I feel genuinely lucky to have been given the opportunity to train students and staff at UF.

    This year I also acquired a new job as the president of the TriGators triathlon club. I'm so proud of being able to improve a club that has given so much to me in my first two years in college. I've learned so much from the extra responsibility; I would even argue that I've learned more about life from the club than I have from any other single experience. I have wholeheartedly enjoyed every minute of it, even the few bumps in the road that I've hit. It's an experience that I'm glad I took on; and I have to thank all of my teammates for allowing someone like me to try to keep things in order. (key word: try)

Also, just attending this university was a huge opportunity in itself. I just have so much to be thankful for.

So, on to the race this weekend. Let me preface this by saying that I raced this same course 1 min faster than last year. That's definitely encouraging, considering last year I was in pretty darn good shape as I was gearing up for my marathon. But unfortunately I have no idea where that time came from, as my chip from last year has probably washed up on the shores of Mexico by now. If I had to guess, it probably came from the bike leg.

The swim was a bit of rough start, with all 78 collegiant athletes (men and women) going off in one wave.Beach starts have never been a strength of mine. I was slow at charging into the water, and then bottomed out on my first attempt at a dolphin dive. I literally dove into the sand (whoops, a little too early), and I feel lucky that I didn't emerge from the water with a mouthful of sand. I found a lot of contact out to the first buoy, but after that I had a pretty smooth swim. I sighted well and stayed on line, which doesn't happen that often. I also think that my effort was higher than usual, given the way I was panting upon trudging to shore. My legs burned as I waved through the water, and I was thinking "Man, this is going to be a long bike ride". Figuratively, of course. The bike course was short 9.5 miles.

   To my surprise, the bike actually went fairly well. I got a glimpse of the sun rising over the Sunshine Skyway, and a smile crept onto my face. I always stop myself a couple times a race just to enjoy the fact that I'm racing somewhere beautiful. Coming out of T2, I grabbed a cup of water and tossed it back too quick. I coughed and choked for a quarter mile or so, spitting up water and clearing the water from my lungs. People watching probably thought I was dying or something. I eventually got into a good rhythm on the run, despite my bum hip. Coming up to first aid station, I saw a flag for snowcones, so as the volunteers announced if they had water or Gatorade in their cups, I asked if I could have a snowcone instead. They seemed to get a good kick out of that. Most of the back half of the run was on sand, and it threw me off a little. I had a blank mind and good concentration for a while, but once I hit the loose footing, I had to focus to much about my footsteps and it annoyed me.

     I had a strong finish, with a good sprint at the end to pass the 4th place girl. I was kind of dramatic upon crossing the finish lone and sat down for a while before allowing the volunteers to take the chip off of my ankle. One of the guys helped me up, and I realized that I was being pathetic. Sometimes it just seems so right at the moment....but I hate it when I do that. Overall, I'm happy with the race. feeling undertrained has lit a bit of a fire under my...well you know. The triathlon season may be coming to a close, but I feel ready to put some solid training in to get ready for a solid spring.

Most of all, I'm just thankful for being out there wearing the orange and blue.

    

Battle Of the Bridges Race Report

   There a was an eerie amount of familiarity in the air. Driving over the beautiful Melbourne causeway, entering transition to a friendly voice on a megaphone, getting thrashed by the rougher oceanic waves that feed the river that hosted the swim course. However, this race was much different than the one I did 2 years ago.

         Two years ago, this race was my first of the Olympic distance, and my 3rd triathlon ever. I wore a sports bra and spandex, rode my Trek 1000 road bike, and entered transition as a ball of nerves. I doubted that I would even complete the race. But I did, with a decent time, I might add. I crossed the finish line thinking that it was the hardest thing I had ever done. This time, I woke up race morning as the TriGator president, unloaded my Speed Concept from my car, and sported my Kiwami tri-suit. I've lost count of how many triathlons I've raced, and an Olympic distance race is routine. But that doesn't mean that I wasn't a ball of nerves. I have a feeling that no matter how long I race, I will always have those pre-race butterflies. There's nothing wrong with a little case of the wiggles when you're about to lay it all on the line.

        The air was humid but tolerable from the large volume of rain the area received the night before. I chatted with the other college triathletes after I set up my transition area, which I can practically do on cruise control now. I love the atmosphere of the FCTC races; all of the teams know each other ans support each other (nowhere near the hostility displayed on the football field). I'm always in awe of the camaraderie of college triathlon. We made our way down to the water for the start, and after doing 2 Gator cheers (we just had to, we had beaten LSU in football the day before)it was time to press our watch buttons and dive into the water.

      The water was rough, just as I had remembered. I found myself Tarzan swimming over waves in order to get a glimpse of the buoys. Swimming the course correctly is always an issue for me. I know so because while my pool times have improved, my triathlon times have not. Open water swimming is just one of those things you have to practice; unfortunately it isn't easy to do so. Swimming is still a huge source of frustration for me. I've gone as far as blaming my body type for my poor swimming--which I'll admit is stooping pretty low. Work in=results out, in everything.

     After cursing under my breath and taking a very ugly run-in-to-T1 picture (thank you, race photographers for catching me in my element) I hopped on my bike and gutted out a decent bike split. I went by some volunteers with a radio at one point, and one of my favorite songs (Paradise, by Coldplay) was playing. I instantly started singing and pounding my pedals a little harder. It really pumped me up!

     The run is what I'm most ashamed of in this race. I'm aware that I'm not in very good run shape, but at the same time I had a stretch where I felt pretty darn good (mile 2-4), and then there was the bridge. The course had up run up an enormous bridge, run a quarter mile after descending, and then turning right back around and up the bridge again. What torture. It is here that I started to hurt. Some poor hydration on the bike led to the debilitating ab cramps that I'm famous for. I stood doubled over on the top of the bridge, grimacing in pain. I knew there was only a mile left, but it was so hard to even get my body upright so that I could run. I ran for a while with almost a 90 degree bend at my hips; I was doing anything to keep moving. As the finish line came in view, I was able to hold up for a bit so that I could look decent in front of the crowds of people towards the finish (a shallow thought, I know). I finished with a Gator chomp and a fist pump.

   Overall, I'm not incredibly happy with this race. It has nothing to do with the splits, place, or race difficulty. I hated how I felt. I know I'm undertrained, and I definitely feel it. My legs felt heavy, I was breathing hard, and I felt like I was merely surviving, not racing. I was spoiled with a really good spring season, where I was able to split off a 10K as if I hadn't ridden my bike 25 mile prior. I want that back. Really bad. My competitiveness is gone. I've decided it's a negative part of my personality that I was to rid myself of. I just want the feeling back. Place doesn't matter, and neither does time. I just want to feel like Kacy again, running as if I was floating. I'll get there, I just have to be patient.



        

The Unplanned experiment

     The past few weeks have been rough, for lack of a better word. I've had exams, increased work hours, and other odds and ends pushed onto my already crowded plate. I felt stressed, overly emotional, and weak. No wonder. I was doing all of the things that I tell my clients (and others) not to do. I got less than 6 hours of sleep at night. My diet turned into cereal and Clif Bars. Workouts were short, unproductive, aimless, and only made me feel worse.

Let's examine these factors of overall health one-by-one, shall we?

1.Sleep


Sleep is so important that it can be the limiting factor in advantageous responses to exercise . It is the only time that some of your systems get to rest (namely, the nervous system) and it is the main stage for bodily repair. Growth hormone is released during sleep, so to maximize strength and muscle gain, try paying some time to your bed rather than $30.00 on protein (sorry, to offend anyone, I have a beef about protein powder). Everyone's requirements are different in this department, but sleep has a lot to do with Circadian rhythms and internal body clock. Just because someone feels fine on 4 or 5 hours of sleep per night doesn't mean that their body appreciates it. They just perceive that amount as "normal" and therefore are simply used to it. Keeping a steady sleep schedule is key. Life doesn't always allow it, but if you can, go to bed and wake up at the same time, and have a routine for both ends of the day. In case you haven't noticed, your body loves routine.

2. Diet

Okay, so my idea of a bad diet week is probably a good week for most people. This week's diet was bad in a random way; not a cheeseburger and fried chicken sort of way. I ate my regular breakfast of oatmeal, an apple and maybe a Clif bar for lunch, and then cereal for dinner...with some vegetables sprinkled in, of course. Although this may sound fine to some, it was extremely unbalanced; mostly because I didn't have a cookie in each hand (kidding). Regardless, I know it contributed to my lethargy.

One of my favorite motto's when it comes to diet is that if you put good in, you will get good out. You can't put unleaded fuel in a Ferrari. It's amazing how good you can feel when you eat well. Neglecting to give your body the proper nutrients at the proper time forces your body to work without the resources it needs. It's like getting lost without a map: it's going to take a lot more energy to find your way back than it would have you had a map (or GPS, I suppose we are in the 21st century)

Adequate nutrition is a huge problem for endurance athletes, mostly because the problem can be unidentifiable. If you chronically train on low fuel, then you don't know what it feels like to train with enough fuel. You really have to be in tune with your body and constantly assessing your energy levels. This is where a training log comes in handy, so that you are forced to do a quick "body check" every day.

  Not only is it imperative that calorie intake is met, but extra nutrients are also needed as training volume increases. The only true way to know if one is consuming enough is to get a rough estimate of how many calories are typically burned on a training day and then matching intake to that. Making sure that your macronutrients (carbs, proteins, fats) are in check is important too. I think of them this way: Eat enough carbohydrates to fuel your training, enough protein to repair what you break down during training, and enough healthy fat to augment the two. There is much debate about ratios of the above, and it is different for everyone. But I can tell you that no matter what your goals or activity levels are, planning is key. If you know you have a busy week coming up, (or every week is busy) be sure to shop intelligently and have a couple of "fast meals" in mind for when things get hectic.

3.Workouts

When time is a commodity, the workout is the first thing to go for most people. I can't tell you how many times I've overheard people on campus say something like "Bro, I haven't been to the gym in so long, I've had 2 tests this week and an interview..." And then they say something about regaining their swoleness after these obligations are over. However, exercise is important in stress reduction and brain function. It helps you focus and feel better during rough times. However, you have to modify your workout to your current needs.

I did the opposite of the above scenario. I tried to keep up with my regular routine while my body was compromised in the way described above. I ended up just exhausting myself and having a string of poor workouts. What I should have done is reduce the intensity of my workouts and done them at a time that allowed me to sleep in (as opposed to 6:30 AM). Sigh, I  suppose I'm too stubborn for that.

Each workout needs to serve a purpose, and you have to think about what you are trying to achieve. Doing a hard workout in stressful times is borderline pointless; the hormones that are released at this time work against your body's adaptation mechanisms. One week of light exercise won't derail any training plan, regardless of how far along you are (or what phase, if you are fancy and have a periodized plan)

But if you are simply short on time, there is no excuse for why you can't get a good workout in. for example, One day last week I had only an hour to workout  and I was stuck at the gym. So I did an interval workout with a rower, box jumps, and ladder drills. I was drenched in sweat and satisfied 45 minutes later, including warm up and cool down. There is a short and intense workout that can be effective, no matter what kind of athlete you are. You just have to be crafty and tailor it to your goals.

So the moral of the story is to focus on the little things. We think too much about the details of our training/fitness routine that we forget to think about the little things that matter the most: diet, sleep, and tissue quality. Hopefully you can take away something from this little unplanned experiment of mine. I know I did.

Definitions, Redefined.

 We all have this ideas about ourselves in our heads: What we look like to others, what we are capable of, things that we always do, things that we never do. The reason why we are who we are is because we have a central construct that we follow, a normal of sorts. We also have definitions for what we can and cannot do. Even the most optimistic of people know that there are some things that they simply will never accomplish in life, just because it is so far out of their scope as a person.

But who said that these definitions can't change?

       I've been thinking about how much I have changed over the past few years (and even in the past 6 months) and I realize that I am doing things now that I would never even lay a pinky finger on in high school or before. Granted, a lot of it has to do with growing and maturity, but I can safely say that I've changed. For the better. I can talk to people on the phone in a professional manner. I can lead a workout without a single stutter or awkward joke. I can lead a meeting without panicking about this or that. I can study effectively for exams, accept bad workouts and injuries....the list goes on. After so many years of being unsatisfied with myself, I can finally sit back and say "You know what, I'm close to who I want to be." And that means so much.

 Changing isn't something that you can actively work towards, and everyone takes their own path. It could be an accumulation of experiences or an "aha!" moment that you have when you wake up one day. More than likely, it's a combination of the two. I can point to a single event, but I know that the things that I've piled onto my college plate have helped as well.

Workouts are the ultimate writers of our definitions. They show us what our bodies are capable of at that moment in time: in that fitness level, with that much sleep,fuel, stress level, and fatigue. Pushing yourself in a workout is the worst best feeling in the world. I swear, you can find clarity in the face of complete exhaustion. case in point: Over the summer, I did a swim workout ( I now call it the terrible 200's) that was 10x200 on an interval with short rest. Swimming is my weakest of the 3 sports, and it is always a source of frustration for me. So when I was already dying after 3 of them (read: 7 to go), I threw off my goggles, slammed them on the deck, and gasped "I...can't...do...this." This is a huge workout no-no. These are forbidden words, and I will never repeat them again. Luckily, I had coaches there to help me out. "It's ok, just go again at the top. You get an extra 30 seconds." I wasn't thrilled with this compromise, but I did it anyway. I finished the workout, with the last 3 200's 10 seconds faster than the absolutely awful first 3. At the end, I rested my head on the deck, still gasping, and thought "I did something special today." I redefined my idea of swimming. Maybe I could get better. The thought that kept me going that day was "I want this more than anything in the world." Keeping that desire in my mind helped me finish; because when you want to quit, you must remember why you started. Works every time.

Keep redefining yourself and your capabilities. Don't sit in your comfort zone, because nothing awesome ever happens there. Greatness happens the moment you step outside that zone, even if you fail. You are infinitely better just for taking that leap.

"Life is a series of unceremonious acts of courage." --Unknown (or, just me. not sure which)

I'm life, Annie. And I'm here to bite you in the...

       Okay, so before you read this: yes, this blog is referring to a scene in Bridesmaids. I love that movie because it's hilarious, but it actually has a very strong underlying message. I know it's sad that I'm writing 500 words about a scene in a movie about feuding Bridesmaids and a cute cop with an adorable accent. But bear with me.

     This particular scene is towards the end of the movie when Megan visits Annie at her mother's house, where she recently moved in because she has finally "hit bottom". After putting her 7 puppies on the porch, Megan sits down on the couch to talk to Annie. Annie expresses her state of depression and remorse over ruining her best friends wedding, and says "I have no friends...". Megan jumps on this immediately, and says "You know what Annie, I think it's funny that you are sitting here telling me that you have no friends when you have a friend right here, trying to talk to you." (don't quote me exactly on this; it would take me twice as long to write this if I looked up the quotes and everything, haha) She then goes on to say "I'm life, Annie, and I'm here to bite you in the ass. Are you going to fight back or what?" This awkward struggle on the couch has really applied to my life recently. And here's why.

    Something snapped last Friday. It was probably the culmination of several things, but I felt like I got hit with a brick of emotions that I had never experienced before. Never before had I felt that endurance sports was a negative in my life. I thought that training and racing had given me everything I had: friends, success, fun, etc. But that was the problem. Who am I without training? I realized that I couldn't answer that question, and I'm not going to lie, it scared me a bit. Did I need to delete it from my life for a while? What would it be like to not think about racing or running or staying in shape?

At first, that seemed like a clear answer. But as the initial emotion wore off, I found that it wasn't the sport that was the problem. I was the problem. I had things to work out with myself, and I had to take an honest look at how I was reacting.

Several of my friends reached out to me, as I was clearly upset. But all I wanted to do is sulk, and tell them how much I hated certain flaws that I have. My doors were shut, even as they were trying to pry them open. Even the kindest words seemed to bounce off, and although I listened, I couldn't bring myself to believe any of it.

I was like Annie, sitting on the couch with a pouting face. But after a few long talks a couple of hugs, I began to feel myself again. Life had bit me--but I had great friends to ease the pain.

The moral of the story, for me anyway, is never to take those closest to you for granted. One of the greatest joys of life are the people that you spend it with. Never let a chance to show your appreciation for someone's friendship slip by. The best feeling in the world is being loved, and the best way to receive love is to give it. I feel so lucky to have great people in my life, and I can only hope that I can be there for others twice as much as people are there for me. It's a simple act, being there for someone, but it's worth more than anything in this world.

To all of my friends and family, I love you. And I'll be here when you need me, as you have been for me so many times.

It's not "Just another bib"

           If you are a triathlete or runner, chances are you like to decorate your walls with race bibs, hang medals wherever possible, and place your trophies in plain view. Endurance sport becomes such a big par of your life that you must have race memorabilia close at all times. Because, obviously, your non-running friends never get tired of you talking about your races. No one needs reminding that you are a multisport athlete, but the bibs, medals, and trophies are a part of you that you can hang on the wall or place on your mantle.
              I recently moved across town, which meant that I had to pack up my life into boxes, only to unpack them in a new location a mile down the road. As I re-created my room in my new apartment, it took me twice as long as it should have. I was too busy reminiscing. I hung my race bibs on the wall behind my desk, re-counting each race in my head as I placed them up one-by-one. I remembered the firsts: my first triathlon, Trigator race, Olympic distance race, half marathon, and marathon. I grinned as I hung those from my PR races, and grimaced as I thought about those that didn't go as well. But what about all the others? Were they "just another race"? Of course not.
           I realized that every race had a story. Some were more mundane than others, but they had a story nonetheless. My first Great Clermont bib reminded me of how sick I was, how I wanted to quit after the first lap of the swim, and how I finished the race anyway. My Mitchell invitational bib reminded me of the moment that I realized that I loved cross country. I didn't even run that well, but my runner's high had me beaming all the way home. My Mountain  Dew bib brings me feelings of disappointment, but now I realize that it was a springboard to some of the best running of my life. It also reminds me of how loved I felt that day, with the support of my old cross country team and new friends. My Suncoast Triathlon bib makes me pack a safety pin for my timing chip (the one from that day is sitting at the bottom of the Gulf). The Wildman bib from last year almost makes my feet go numb (it was 65 degrees at the start). Every race is special in some way.
          To me, race bibs are a tangible part of the race that I can keep with me. Sure, I have the ingrained memories of burning legs, debilitating cramps, trials and tribulations. But my bib is my proof. My bib is like a snapshot of myself on the day of the race. I was a very different athlete when I earned my states bib than when I earned my Women's Half Marathon bib. Maybe I'm just a pack rat, but I love keeping my bibs. I have visions of myself at 80 years old, going through my old and yellowing bibs with my grandchildren saying things like "I got this one when I ran my 20th Gasparilla Half Marathon at age 40". I guess only the time (and bibs) will tell.
    
       

Olympic Proportions

                 If you are anything like me, you've been captivated by the Olympic games over the past two weeks. I haven't  changed the channel on my TV from NBC since the games began. The games inspire me (and countless others, as the gym has been a bit more crowded recently) for many reasons, and I'd like to share some of my love for the best sporting event in the world.

     First off, the bodies. No, not exclusively from an attractiveness standpoint, but rather just the incredible level of proficiency that Olympic athletes have woven into their chiseled into their muscles. From the crazy amount of body control displayed in gymnastics to the power associated with running a 100 m dash in less than 10 seconds, these people are truly extraordinary. As an anatomy and physiology nerd, I get probably too much enjoyment from thinking about how beautiful the orchestra of muscle firing in these athletes is. I could sit there and just watch muscle contractions all night long.

    The Olympics is the biggest stage of sport. These athletes train four long years just to see what it feels like to have a medal around their neck. I love the emotion that pours from their faces when they realize that they have just won a gold medal. You can just tell from the mile-wide smile and streaming tears that they are feeling elation beyond just winning any other game, race, or match. It must be an emotion unlike any other. I can't imagine training four years for that moment. That would be like me training for one race since I was 16. Crazy.

     I LOVE the nationalism. They are all competing for their country, not for money. They are in London to represent themselves and their country in the highest esteem possible. It must be really awesome to drape the American flag around your shoulders, sing the national anthem from a podium, and wear a jersey with USA emblazoned on your chest. You can tell that these athletes don't lose sight of what they are competing for. Of course they are motivated to some extent by individual glory, but at the end of the day, they are there to represent our country; and that's cooler than any professional/college sports team.

   There were some really cool stories, too. Oscar Pistorius and his prosthetic limbs (I love his quote--"You are not disabled by the disabilities you have, you are able by the abilities you have."), Misty and Kerri's last medal together, Usain Bolt and the always fun Jamaican sprinters, the list just goes on and on.

It's hard not to get motivated by seeing so many dedicated people perform their best (heck, even 90% of the commercials were made you want to go out and run some 400's). It's also hard to hide your American pride. USA! USA! USA!

You'd still run

Pictures with quotes are all the rage these days. Some of them inspirational, but most of them are just plain hilarious. I'm a sucker for a good e-card, like this one:

I know it's a bit brash, but the grittiness of it pumps me up. You could treat every day as training for life, just as you think of every workout as preparation for an event. The key is, though, to realize that you are living life while training for it, so it's important to enjoy yourself along the way. The same theme should carry over into race training. Working out should be something that challenges you and leaves you stronger, not something that steamrolls you and leaves flattened on the asphalt.

But I kind of like that feeling. So I pondered this, as I saw this picture the other day:

Why do I run? Why do I force myself out the door while I waddle in pain from a workout the day before? Why do I overtrain? In search of an answer, I wrote one of these myself:

Even if there were no records to break
or medals to win,
and my body always looked strong
and I aced every exam
and no endorphins were ever released into my blood
and the first thing that I did every morning was smile
and I found love stronger than I ever thought possible
and I would never slow down
and I was always the person that I wanted to be,
saw everything that I wanted to see,
had no fear or reason to flee,
and always had fun.
I'd still run.

The only thing I can gather is that I like to do extraordinary things. I will sacrifice a lot of suffering now for a moment in the sun later. When I feel like my life becomes too ordinary, I decide to do something crazy, like register for a marathon or half ironman. Or get a tattoo. Or to go to med school. I like being able to say that some days I swim further than some people walk, bike further than some have driven, and run for longer than it takes for someone to watch a TV show.

Although I'm very goal-driven, there is definitely something else that causes me to do what I do. It's much deeper than PR's or the satisfaction of proficiency. I like crazy things. I'm drawn to things that most people are smart enough to avoid. It's kind of like a prolonged adrenaline rush, like free-falling for weeks at a time.

Which leads me to one of my favorite quotes: "When you want to quit, remember why you started"
Make sure you never forget that reason.

Work in progress

     Even when things are going great, we all are a work in progress. There's always something that could be better, should be better, or could be changed. This is something I try to keep in the back of my mind, especially to avoid complacency in training and school. But now, it has to be the driver behind everything I do: I'm more than a work in progress. I'm a pile of blocks, waiting to be assembled.

          I'm in my second week of running since feeling no pain in my ankle, and there has been this trajectory in my attitude towards this favorite form of exercise of mine. During the first run, you couldn't wipe the smile from my face; I felt light on my feet and fast, mostly because it is the fastest I have move with my own two feet in a while. The second run was a repeat of the first, but I noticed I was breathing heavier and shuffling more. Now during every run I watch the trees pass slowly and the concrete barely move from beneath my feet. Uh-Oh. It's the "Oh crap, I'm out of shape, and running is so much harder than I remember" stage. For example, during my first track workout, I ran a 1:33 400. But it felt like I had just sprinted to a photo finish against Sanya Richards. It gave me a new appreciation for what I used to be able to do.

     Friday I did my first 6 miler in a long time. It was the same route that I ran practically every non-track morning in my marathon buildup last fall. It was that run that knocked some sense into me. I have to enjoy the process of getting back to that level, not just wanting it all to come at once. Building back up could be fun, right? I can watch myself get stronger with every mile, take time off of my tempo pace 15 seconds at a time, add another 400. Something is actually enticing about taking it slow. A 3 mile run is an actual workout? Who would have thought? I know where my fitness is now, but there's no telling where it will be in 3 months. Maybe I'll be even faster than before.

     In a non-running related note, thinking that you won't get any better at something isn't worth the brain cells. As frustrating as new things are, it's really a waste to sulk about mediocrity. Keeping that hope that things will fall into place is motivating; it gets you out there even when it's the last thing you want to do. Frustration has to be the most useless emotion on the earth.

Sidenote: Since I have been injured, I have been lifting a lot; and I do believe that I have fallen in love with deadlifting. I noticed on my bike ride yesterday that my back didn't hurt near as much as it usually does. So if you experience back pain while riding, try strengthening your erector spinae. Deadlifting is great, but back extensions and supermans should do the trick also. I didn't realize how weak my back was until I gave deadlifting a try.

A Post About Life

        I usually don't like using this blog as a diary, but I think I have learned a lesson recently that some people may be able to learn too. For most of my life I have wished that I was something else, or more like somebody else. I have wished that I was a better soccer player, and that I could have played on my high school team. I've longed to be funnier, prettier, smarter, nicer, etc., than I am. I've dreamed of super quick race times, being 4 inches taller, and of straight A's in college. But none of that time that I spent wishing was ever worth it. Realizing that you already are the best person you can be is empowering, and any reason you can find to believe in yourself is a good one.

   Envy is part of life, and of course is normal. Humans have been comparing themselves to one another since the loin cloth was in fashion. But instead of spending time comparing yourself to others, spend time improving yourself. You have talents that you don't yet know that you have, and just because you haven't done something before doesn't mean that it's impossible. Just because something could be better doesn't mean that it was all that bad in the first place.

      This reminds me of a quote (and you know how much I love quotes):  "You must love yourself before you can love anybody else." That's so true, right? How can you be someone else's world while you are still unsure of your own? As weird as it sounds, we learn to love in life from 3 people: our parents and ourselves. My dad has always told me that I have to love myself, and it's probably the best advice he will ever give me. I'm not sure why it's taken me so long to finally understand it.

   Keeping the focus on doing things in life is infinitely better than dreaming about things that you want to do. Today is always the day, tomorrow is for the lazy and yesterday is already gone. Life is yours for the taking; live it as though you were born with everything you will ever need. Because more than likely, you have. Don't spend your life wishing that you had this or that. Spend it knowing that you have what it takes to get this and that.

It's about what you DON'T eat, not what you DO eat.

 Yes, this is a blog about nutrition. When you conclude in reading it, please don't  knock down my door, leave notes on my car, or give me the silent treatment. This is such a touchy topic that I have restrained from sharing my view for a while. I will make my best effort to build a bridge over the nutrition disparity rather than add water under it. So, without further ado, here it is, in a nutshell: nutrition is more about what you don't put into your mouth than what you put in it.

       I work at Publix, and as creepy as this sounds, you can tell a lot about a person by what they put into their shopping carts. I see people from all ends of the food spectrum: all organic to all Little Debbie. I can tell when people are trying to maintain or lose weight, and there is a spectrum there as well in regards to what kinds of foods that I pull across my scanner. One side is full of 100 calorie packs, rice cakes, Snack Wells, and diet soda; the other overloaded with vegetables, beans, chicken breast, and fresh fruit. Let's play a game: which cart has more calories? Which cart is better?

     So the answer to the above question is quite obvious, but it helps me prove my point. When people diet, they are often too caught up on calories and not caught up enough on nutrients. Although both carts likely have similar caloric values, the one with the vegetables has a whole lot more bang for the buck, so to speak. The proportion of people who don't eat fruit or vegetables is quite alarming. A diet without fruits and vegetables is like a building that is missing one of its pillars. These foods have a lot of vitamins, minerals, fiber, and other compounds that simply cannot be matched by even the most fortified of foods. A diet that includes lean protein and whole grains is not complete without a large dose of vegetables and adequate fruit intake.

   A long the same lines, a diet that is adequate in plant foods is not wrecked by a daily indulgence. Sure, sugar and saturated fat causes problems (to say it succinctly) but the consequences of a not-so-perfect diet are nowhere near those of omitting the vital food groups. Besides, if you focus on eating your daily quota of fruits, vegetables, and whole grains you won't have room for too much more (unless you happen to be a competitive eater, which I don't recommend)

     However, nutrition varies so much over a continuum that it's difficult to follow concrete rules. Our bodies process food so differently, and our needs are a product of our daily activities. For athletes, nutrition varies by training cycle and even day to day. Macronutrient needs (daily ratios of carbs, fat, and protein) are a hotly debated topic, but the only idea in this area that I believe is that the ratio should be determined by body type, and then later tweaked for the individual. Those on the heavier side should start with a higher protein and lower carbohydrate ratio, and individuals with low body fat should aim for slightly higher carb diets. I really don't want to go into extreme detail over this, but I think it should be out there that I believe that this is a good starting point.

   Lastly, the common theme that should run through any diet is whole foods. Stay away from processed foods as often as possible, and buy organic if you eat a certain food frequently. An easy way to do this is to "shop the perimeter" of the store, except when you are grabbing those frozen vegetables from the freezer section. If you do buy products with labels, be sure to read it; and be sure to understand the ingredients before you toss it into your cart. Organic Oreos are not better than regular Oreos. (sorry, I wish it were true also) I liken eating food additives to trying to trying to funnel a thick liquid. Additives can get stuck to the sides, but whole foods are like water that can just slip right through without consequence.

Eat your veggies. Drink water. Whole foods only. Get moving. That's all there is to it! Criticism is welcome, but I hope that this is perceived as a neutral opinion, not one that will start a war.

     

St Anthony's Triathlon Report

Let me start out by saying that St. Anthony's is my favorite race. It is a mere 45  minute drive from where I live, and it is one of the most beautiful courses I have ever raced on. There is a lot of pros and a lot of hype; 29 waves of athletes from all walks of life. Everything is super organized and well-run, it almost makes me feel like a pro too.

        I arrived into transition knowing that I had still 2.5 hours until my race would start. Setting up transition has become routine, no longer something to stress over. I made my way down to the swim start and admired the amber colored sky. It was a beautiful day to race, albeit warm and humid (goodbye, spring!). I relaxed and talked to my biggest fan (my mom) for a while as the announcer set off hundreds of athletes into the Gulf. When there was 45 minutes til my start, I jogged around to loosen up. It just so happened that the pro women were on the run course, which snaked behind the beach of the swim start. I stopped to watch their impeccable and seemingly effortless form. They would definitely be finished with their race before I even started. Wonderful.

    I then jumped into the water to set my stroke before it was race time. The water was a chilly-feeling 77 degrees and quite salty. I had been spoiled with 3 freshwater swims in my previous races this spring. Finally, I heard the announcer call purple caps into the corral and then out into the water. The swim start began with all of us treading water for what felt like forever. The current began to pull us away from the start buoy, and everyone was babbling about how they need to just start the race already. I turned to the girl next to me and said "Sorry, there just isn't a polite way to tread water.". We were elbowing and kicking each other before the race even started. Then the horn went off, and I had one of my best swim starts yet. I felt confident and could tell that I was in the upper third of the pack. But then we made a big turn out into the Gulf, and the water got really rough (the swim is always rough at St. A's, and they were trying a new course this year). My body rose and fell with the waves, and I began to swallow large amounts of salt water. I really messed up once I got to the yellow turn buoy. Every time I sighted, I was further and further from the directional buoys that led to shore. I began to get frustrated, and I felt like I was punching water rather than swimming in it. I was angry when I emerged up the stairs and into transition; that swim felt like it took years to complete. Definitely not my best swim. And to put whipped cream on my sundae, I lost my bike in transition. It took me 1:47 to get out on the roads of St. Pete.

         With my adrenaline pumping hard, I took off on my bike with the intent of getting the time back that I lost on the swim. I knew I was going fast by the feel of the wind on my face. The course was crowded with all of the waves that went off before mine, and it boosted my ego that I was passing so many people. (I blame my drafting penalty on this) I passed All Children's Hospital and blew it a kiss. If only they all could see me now. My legs welcomed the flat course, and it was much easier to maintain my effort than at Clermont or Nationals. I zoomed into transition with a time of 1:11:48. BOOM!

        I found my transition area slightly faster this time, and put on my awesome new racing shoes with glee. I pranced off on the run, my legs feeling great so far. As I left transition, I heard my mom's voice as it was trailing off "Go Kacy! BE CAREFUL!" I had been dealing with the same tendonitis that haunted me after the marathon, and I wasn't sure that I would be able to finish the run without limping to the finish line. I hadn't even thought about it until my mom reminded me. I directed my attention for a quick second to my ankle: no pain. Alright, it's go time! The run was hot, as expected. My effort level was higher than Nationals, but as far as I could tell I was still holding a good pace. The spectator support was remarkable; there was seldom a spot where there wasn't anyone cheering you on. I began to sing Bon Jovi's "Livin' on a Prayer" in my head, because it was the last song I heard on the drive over. Songs always motivate me, but I have also found that focusing on my body and effort level has been a key to keeping pace on the run and bike. I collected beads from some fans around mile 5, and slung them around my neck. As I came running through the finishing shoot, some girl pulled up onto my shoulder. I sprinted away from her, and never looked back. I felt like Usain Bolt as I crossed the finish line in full stride. I didn't know it at the time, but I finished with a PR of 2:28:53.

    Because of the (assumed) drafting penalty, my official time is 2:30:53...but I don't care. Breaking 2:30 was been a goal that I've had for a while, and I finally did it. It was even more satisfying, because I was starting to feel like it wouldn't be possible. The cool thing with triathlon is that there are so many ways to lower your time...and always room for improvement. Perfect races are rare, but I can't wait till the day that I have one. Oh, and I know that I will.

       This race has certainly raised my perceived ceiling. I know I can get faster. But not right now. I need to take some time to reset my body and try and avoid injury. Here is my quote for the next few weeks:

"I've never been patient, but I've always been determined. This time I'm determined to be patient."

Collegiate Nationals Race Report

       It really hit me Thursday morning. The weekend that I have been waiting for all semester was here. Collegiate Nationals were on Saturday, and later that day my teammates and I would make our journey to Tuscaloosa. I ran some 200's around the track that morning with that pristine finishing shoot in mind. I was so excited to get home and start packing; the feeling consumed my body and made me feel like I was constantly going down the drop of a roller coaster. I hadn't felt like that in a long, long time.

       After a long 8 hour drive, we all crashed early with our sights on packet pickup the next day. And that is really when it REALLY hits you: race numbers in hand, awesome t-shirt on your back, and the Tuscaloosa Ampitheater looming overhead. Hundreds of fit and attractive people buzzed around the race site, holding their free Rudy project bags and a water bottle for hydration. My teammates and I went to the swim start by the Black Warrior River, where in about 17 hours the race would unfold. We squeezed into our wetsuits (I needed to jump around to get the legs up to where they were supposed to be) and plunged into the 69 degree water. Much better than last year. After doing a combination of swimming and enjoying our new found ability to float, we slipped out of the wetsuits again and half of us went on a run to loosen up. I have never felt so ready and excited for a race before. That night we went to the free pasta party on UA's campus (yay free food!) and then went back to the hotel for an early night of preparing race bags and getting our race numbers in place. Since the women would start first this year, we put on our number tattoos before gingerly going to bed, hoping that they would still be there in the morning.

     4:45 came before I knew it. I woke up wide awake and ready to go. I slipped on my new race suit, ate a banana and a peanut butter sandwich, and off we went. It's race day! I felt an interesting combination of nervousness and excitement. Today was the day. We got to transition with plenty of time, and I got a good run in before lugging my wetsuit to the swim start and plunging in once again, just to avoid the shock at the start. I gave another speech, this one more epic than Clermont. There was profanity involved...yeah, that epic.  After standing in the holding pen for what seemed like an hour, we all filed onto the dock. I ended up not getting a spot holding the dock, but rather floated on the side of it with a poor line to the first buoy. The air horn went off, and everything that I had worked for since the last year I swam in this water was being put to the test.

          The swim went well. I love the course because it isn't a triangle and is easy to follow with minimal sighting. I didn't find too much contact since the start and some girl swam right over me. I emerged not-so-gracefully from the water in 27:15, by far my best 1500 yet. The steep exit almost made me fall flat on my face before the excessively long run to transition. After struggling (again) to get my wetsuit off, I was on my bike and ready to take on the Alabama hills.

          I have really started to enjoy the cycling portion, as I now look forward to zipping along the course with the wind in my face. The run isn't the whole race for me anymore. I now care just as much about my bike split as I do my run split...I just might be becoming a triathlete yet. The course was windy from a cold front that was passing through the south over the weekend, and I struggled in spots to keep my cadence up. One of the hills was particularly harder than I remembered, and I had to stand up to crest it. The first loop was done before I knew it, and I remember thinking about how fast the race was going. It was just as enjoyable as it was painful. I didn't once think "UGHHHH I wish this race was over!". I instead wished that it would never end. Bike split: 1:18:09

          On to the run. I knew that hill was coming for me. I kept thinking "this is where you break people...come on, break em' all..." I passed a few on my way to the small neighborhood at the top of the beast. I felt good, with no Ab cramp in sight. I went through a rough patch around mile 3, with a girl from Penn State right on my tail. She passed me and I never did catch up, despite the awesome back half that my legs carried me through. I was under my splits every mile marker, and knew I was in for a good finishing time. My body and I we're one, not fighting each other, but just cruising along. I ran through the finishing line Gator chomping and smiling ear to ear. Run split: 42:30

        Collegiate Nationals is an awesome experience. Everyone is so hard-working and so much fun. I'll tell you, they know how to work hard and play harder. I have gotten so inspired on both of my trips to Tuscaloosa, leaving for Gainesville with an "Anything is possible" feeling. Just seeing the improvement a year can make was an inspiration in itself. I'm falling in love with triathlon more and more with every race I do. College triathlon is an experience that I wouldn't trade for a full ride scholarship. I love the people that I have met, the challenges I've faced, and the new skills I've acquired. Thanks to USA Triathlon, Tuscaloosa, and my TriGator teammates for an awesome weekend!!

            

            

Sometimes we run...

             Sometimes we run because we don't know what else to do. It's probably not the best thing for us at that moment, but somehow that doesn't matter. Running feels more like a physiological need than just an activity that is done for fun or for training. Moments like these make me feel like I have to run, instead of just wanting to run. It's right up there with hunger or thirst; something that must be satisfied.

        Yesterday was a really awful day. I had spent all night studying for an exam that I knew I had no chance of passing. I pushed the molecules around my organic chemistry book with my eyes for ours, and not a single one stuck in my brain. So I woke up tired and annoyed, dragging myself to my 8:30 class before the exam at 1:55. I had from 11 till around 1:30 to study, but my heart just wasn't in it. It just felt to hopeless to try to study anymore. I just didn't get it. So I walked into the lecture hall with a sense of impending doom. I had a bit of optimism tingling in my brain. "Maybe the exam will be basic, and I can pull off a C", I remember thinking.

      The exam was as bad as I thought it would be, and worse. I ran out of time and didn't answer the last 2 questions. I knew I had failed it before the TA swiped my unfinished exam from my hands. I felt choked up as I left, tears welling in my eyes and constricting my throat. My first thought, however, was I have to go for a run. Nothing else would help.

      Running is awesome in that it lets you have more control over your brain. If you want to think about something, you can, and with more clarity than is possible at rest. If you want to forget, running allows you to dump your thoughts on the side of the road somewhere, to be picked up later. I couldn't tell you what I thought about during that run, but it certainly wasn't organic chemistry. My pace was light but fast, my stone-like gaze fixed straight ahead. My eyes were open, but I'm pretty sure that I didn't see anything at all. The sun was warm and the breeze was cool, a perfect run if I had ever seen one. I ran around campus, which has become something of a novelty since I live off campus now. There's something fun about running in the sun with shorts and a sports bra while everyone else is trudging to class.

        I liken the run to a tightly applied band-aid. I felt better enough to function, but my problems hadn't been solved completely. I still thought of the exam in disgust, and still felt angry about my mediocre grades. But I loved how I checked out of the world for 40 minutes. I love how running allows me to center myself when I need it the most. Even though I was so tired, exerting myself felt like the right thing to do. It's weird how sometimes getting out the door is like climbing a mountain, and sometimes is like a walk in the park. But when you are running for a reason other than training, it seems like you have no other option than to put one foot in front of the other.

Great Clermont Race Report

    I have never pushed myself so hard in my entire life. I know, this sentence probably belongs somewhere at the end of the blog, after I've went into excruciating detail about how much my quads burned, lungs ached, and how hard oxygen was to come by. But I couldn't help it. I mean, look at this face.

 Yeah, that's how it felt.

So, to back track, we arrived to transition at just about 6:30. The air was a thick but pleasant 68 degrees. As I walked to transition, was having trouble shaking the memory of last years' race here in Clermont. I had a fever 2 days prior and then subsequently caught an upper respiratory infection. I decided to race anyway, and almost quit after the first lap of the swim. I was exhausted, and spent the time after the race wallowing in self pity and coughing forcefully.

        I was also battling some confidence issues. I had anticipated having a much higher level of fitness for our FCTC championship race. I didn't feel ready, and the hills we drove over to get to the race site was an omen of things to come on the bike course.

     I got a good warm up in because I forgot my timing chip in my car...and then when I got back into transition, realized I also forgot my water bottle. So that was a solid 1.5 mile run all together. After taking care of race priority #1 (it rhymes with smorta-plotty), I saw my parents walking down the trail. I ran over to give them a big hug. It meant so much to me that they woke up at 4:30 am race morning to watch me race.

    After a short swim warm up (the water was perfect-no wetsuit required), my Trigator teammates and I did our cheer and got ready to race. I gave a strange motivational speech involving Shamu,"mountains", and strong legs. Then, the gun went off, and we were swimming through Lake Minneola. The swim course got everyone messed up, and I heard that the lead pack of girls got off course. I'm hoping I didn't cut the course in any way, because it was my best olympic swim yet. The water was choppy from the cold front that went through, and I swallowed a lot of water. It was delicious.

      I sprinted to transition, strapped on my shoes, and started my one hour and seventeen minute sufferfest. The course is a beast, with 3 out and back loops and more hills than flats. The out and back nature of the course made it so that every hill that you zoomed down you also had to climb. Great. It's the triathlon equivalent of a double edged sword. As hard as it was, I have never felt so capable on the bike, instead of telling myself (for motivation) that my legs were pistons, they actually were. I kept telling myself that "this is my race", and before I knew it, I was believing it. As painful as it was, I enjoyed the bike a lot. I pushed every ounce of power out of my legs, and didn't stop until I saw the dismount sign. I began to worry about the run. Boy, and for good reason.

      My parents saw me pull my Pegasus into transition and I could hear the surprise in their cheers. "Awesome job Kace, you're doing great!!" Later my mom told me she didn't even have her camera out because she wasn't expecting to see me that soon. I realized that I forgot to take my GU on the bike, so I pulled it out of my container on my bike and clenched it in my teeth. I ran out of transition, grasping my race belt and with my eye on the lead girl, running 15 seconds ahead.

         My worries were confirmed. I used all of my oomph on the bike. My form felt decent, but the speed that I usually have wasn't there. I could see the FSU uniform fading away, especially after the 3 mile mark. I was fighting hard, and my lungs were screaming for me to stop. There was a nice breeze and some shade, so luckily the conditions didn't exacerbate things. My body oscillated between feeling miserable and totally miserable the whole run. I tried to push as hard as I could after the second turnaround point, when I had just about 1.5 miles to go. I met the 6 mile mark with a sense of bliss; I was so glad it was almost over. Then I heard some bounding and breathing from behind. By the time I turned around, I saw a blur of orange and blue blow past me. I had  about 4 steps of acceleration, and then my legs told me not-so-politely that they had had enough. I wouldn't have wanted anyone else to pass me at that point. So proud.

             So, there you have it. Now I have that wonderful finishing picture.

I am so proud of all of my teammates, who inspire me SO much. For many, it was their first olympic triathlon, and for one it was their first! Everyone overcame difficulty at some point, whether it was the swim, bike, run, transition, or another one of the multitude of variables that come with triathlon. The college triathlon community is awesome too. Everyone encourages each other before, during, and after the race, and we took a group picture as a memento of the last race of the 2011-2012 season. What a great sport, what a great team, what a great race.

"Never doubt yourself in the face of uncertainty; be certain that you have no doubts."