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.