Showing posts with label usat. Show all posts
Showing posts with label usat. Show all posts

Monday, January 05, 2009

dr. cherry's work, at 3 months

it's been nearly three months since dr. ken cherry of UVA installed Pipes 2.0 via a patch of my left external iliac artery & an inguinal release. rode 60miles sunday, ran 10 hilly ones yesterday and flirted with low 6's pace his morning: nary a squeak of claudication. i can run sub-7 pace comfortably now when before surgery my left side from hip flexor to calf would shut down at 7:40 from lack of blood.

now i don't wanna jump to any Rash conclusions, but my studies would indicate that i was broke, cherry fixed me, and that his counterpart at christiana care who saw no stenoses or vascular irregularities in my arteriogram and concluded "maybe at the age of 40 your vessels don't dilate like they used to" was full of shit. but i could be wrong.

regardless, it is good to be moving again, and moving w/o having to mitigate constantly migrating pain. no objectives or focus for the upcoming season -- have yet to consult the Oracle -- but there's short-course du nats in april (eep), in may a national-caliber tri (my favorite race) and in june a half-ironman that's also a qualifier for Kona. maybe that's focus after all.

for now it's just base base base, with perhaps some lifting injected here & there if i can talk EZ into spotting me on squats over & over & over again. oh seemple simon and eez pieman...

Wednesday, August 20, 2008

LC du worlds, or Accomplishing the Preposterous

a month ago i was moaning to fatmammycat about the preposterous conceit of running 16miles at worlds when i could barely manage 3 on the treadmill. preposterous is just another fancy arsed word for ludicrous - she responded - and we KNOW ludicrous is easily bitch slapped senseless when up against reservoir deep. she was right.

long course du worlds
18k run – 78k bike – 9k run

if you're a cyclist, you can't do much better than belgium. there are usually smooth, glass-free dedicated bike lanes and when there aren't, drivers yield to you instead of firing invective and anything else they can find behind the passenger seat.

and the belgians know how to put on a race. the day before worlds, the local organisers treated us to an escorted pre-ride of a bike course that zigged and zagged through downtown geel before shooting back and forth between a couple roundabouts. we were in a rolling enclosure the entire time, protected by motos that would stop traffic along sidestreets, drop back behind and then zoom to the next intersection in a finely-coordinated dance. i felt like i was in the Tour. and nobody crashed or made any bone-headed moves. if we'd been triathletes there'd have been bodies all over the road.

one thing the race organisers couldn't do was control the weather, and when i woke before dawn on race-day morning a fine mist was falling from the sky, and it continued to fall off & on over the next 6 hours, just enough to keep the roads wet and the corners & cobbles slightly treacherous. but at least it wasn't hot!

after a short warmup i hit the loo for one final time and had a panic moment when i emerged to find transition empty and the start not where i thought it was. but it's not a proper race unless you almost miss the start, and once i was there standing behind the line cares and anxieties vanished. racing is the reward for all the BTW workouts, the packing, the visualising of bike in's and run out's, the 8th nervous poo; and once you're on the start line, you can relax because the hard stuff's done. fisch and the Oracle had laid out my race strategy so i didn't even have to think, just execute.

the first run was 4 laps of a 4.5k course that offered a couple out & backs so you could track how many people were in front of you -- and there were a LOT. the women's field wasn't big – about 50 – and half of them were ahead of me after the first 5k. the 40+ men had started 2 minutes ahead, and the fields began to mix halfway in. oh great - my pal bob had lamented before the race - i've got 2 minutes before all the estrogen in the world comes up my ass.

i ran with a couple other Team USA women for the first 2 laps because they were running a relaxed, loose pace. whatever you give up on the first run will more than come back to you on the second – the Oracle said – long course is very forgiving of a slow start. every couple k's i did a reality check to make sure i wasn't running 10min miles and looked for my teammate rich from NC, because his big happy grin reminded me how very cool it was just to be here in the first place.

i ran up on a german dude in a skinsuit and pulled alongside to pass. he was having none of this, however, and sped up a little. klaus the german was tall, and we were turning into a windy section, so i slotted behind and nestled in his draft. klaus was awesome. everytime i thought we were going a little too slow i'd run abreast of him and he'd speed up again. klaus was very accommodating, and he pulled me almost all the way to a clump of women just ahead. hooray for klaus.

in T1 i sacrificed some time stretching a couple talkative ITBs and then took off on the bike. the course was never boring: there was always something to do, like corner on cobblestones, wend your way through the feedzone and exploding waterbottles, and finesse a 180 on a 2-lane highway. at race pace, that 180 was an entirely different animal from the pre-ride, and on the first of the 4 laps i had to unclip and tap my way around it. oopsie! - i sang to a course marshal who seemed disappointed by the lack of drama. the second time around that 180 i was more bold, but the 3rd time i creeeeeeeeept around it like the bike and i were made of fine china. there was someone hot on my wheel as i came into the turn, someone who had to stutter to a crawl when i slowed down to minus-70mph inching around the barricade. when we straightened out the suffering soul shot by on my left – none other than klaus! oh, how he must hate my very bones.

the bike felt good, however, and i passed some women out there so i knew i was making up time. in my head were many voices: fisch, the Oracle, slick rik, fatmammycat and eileen the YMCA lifeguard who oversaw my snail-toils in the deep-end with the AquaJogger. you're going to do great, i just know it – she'd declared, as though all my bones were properly knit together. this host of voices nearly drowned out the irish washerwoman jig on the mental jukebox but not quite.

in T2 i nearly toppled over because my legs were so racked from the bike, but i decided to go with my flats instead of the trainers i took out for the first run. might as well give that mending metatarsal a test! i craved sugar too, so i rifled through my transition rucksack for a bag of jelly beans (Brachs, brah), stuffed them in my singlet pocket and shuffled into the second run. my feet felt like inanimate blocks, and i ran like frankenstein... but at least i had jelly beans. i rummaged in my pocket, cellophane snapping so loudly that a dude ahead of me flinched. i stuffed a handful in my mouth, oh the licorice ones are the BEST, just as the man turned around to see what all the commotion was about. i grinned at him, a big black goofy grin, and he shuddered and turned back around. jelly beans are great, see, because you can mash them to the roof of your mouth where they'll stay until the engine room calls for a little more gas, and you swirl your tongue up there and get some.

after a couple minutes the things at the ends of my legs started to feel like feet again... and look, here's klaus! hello klaus, how happy you must be to see me. would you like some jelly beans? no?? klaus did not have a good second run. i hope this is not because i bullied him too much in the first, being a chick and all.

i caught a couple more women and from the out & backs determined there were about 5 more ahead of me as i neared the finish. what i didn't know was that i was first in my age group until i crossed the line and the PA announced me a world champion. way to go, delaware! - deepak called from the stands and high-fived me as i headed toward the post-race eats, difficult to get down because of the shit-eating grin on my face.

and thus began a 10 or 12hr "recovery" period which FMC has already described. 'tis good to have friends.

Friday, August 01, 2008

countdown to LC worlds: 1 week

tuesday i leave for belgium; long course du worlds are next sunday.

car rental: booked.

hotel: booked. well, mostly.

bike: packed.
race course pored over,
entry list scrutinised,
schedule memorised:
hah! as if.

this is good progress considering that a couple weeks ago i woke up in the middle of the night in a panic because i realised that i had no travel plans, no place to stay, no idea how i'd lug a bike box around by myself -- i didn't even HAVE a bike box. i vaguely remembered buying a plane ticket, but i couldn't remember the airline or the dates and i couldn't find any hard copy or electronic confirmation that the purchase hadn't been an absinthe-fueled dream. so i've come a long way, baby.

work is finally easing back to manageable levels, at least to where you can see how clipped your life's been so surely that means you've reached safer ground?? -and when people do nice things for you, they sink in instead of glancing off your hard shell. things like tuning up, disassembling and packing your bike for you; sending you jellies, your favorite toothpaste and a whiskey glass from faraway lands; and answering your apologetic request (because it is so hard to ask for help, even from your friends) for a ride to their airport in their pickup with an immediate and unhesitating "absolutely."

now, it's tapir time.
and MFBT, of course.

Tuesday, April 29, 2008

The Oracle is fallible

SC du nats
richmond, VA

10k run -- 40k bike -- 5k run


went to duathlon nationals this weekend with the goal of qualifying for short-course worlds in rimini, italy. the Oracle predicted a podium finish; instead i finished way out of the running in 8th place. he was baffled.


- i looked at the results and i saw your first run and i thought 'what happened?' then i saw the bike, and i said 'oh, no.' and then i saw that second run and i thought, 'what the heck was she doing?' what WERE you doing, finn?

he was referring to how i stunk up the first run and the bike, and then came back with the 2nd fastest 5k of all the women, even the pro's.

- did you think you were racing a 5K? - he continued - with a really long warmup?

- i was doing my OWN race - i said petulantly.


the simple explanation is that halfway through 10K my left quad got tighter and tighter, finally seizing up so badly that i had to stop to stretch it out. you must have been panicking - sympathised laf, but there was no panic. i knew the pain, and i thought it might ease up if i gave it time. so while athletes filed by on their way across the Robert E. Lee bridge i gave it time and eventually i could run again, slowly.


i lost even more time in the first half of the bike because i was a bit shattered mentally, and quads that'd been burning all week weren't feeling much better. the lead men rocketed by me as though i were on my trainer, and when a particularly fetching specimen with "severance" white-lettered on his backside passed me i must confess to wandering down a mental detour which involved a lot of "ances": impotence, deliquescence, pestilence and deliverance. [FYI hootchiemama cyrus severance, 28yo from denver, finished 12th.]


the course was slick with rain and there were many casualties: to crashes, flats and dérailleurs that plum jammed on a climb out of riverside; and midway through the bike it occurred to me that if i simply hung in there i might do okay. out of sheer perseverANCE. so i rallied a bit, gained a little more confidence on the torturous curves and finished the bike strong(er).


- but hey, at least your transitions were good!
- the Oracle observed. if i could get all my shit aligned in one race i'd be absolutely fucking deadly... but what would be the fun in that??

after a painless T2 i headed out for the 5K and felt transcendent. i caught a ton of people - what do you expect when they have been working their arses off for the past 2 hours and you've been knocking about in la-la-land? my quad was loose, my hamstrings were open and i could run unencumbered. i passed the 2nd place woman in my age group 100m from the line, on a climb. as i approached the final timing mat i heard julieblue, winner of my AG and 3rd F overall. you're going to worlds, babe! and i am. twice.

though we be fallible, the Oracle and i have got me qualified for short- and long-course du worlds, an impressive feat for april. there is much work to do before belgium and italy, but for the next week or so there's a lot of lazing about, reading of books and tollhouse cookie workouts. and there will be uisge fer shure.

Tuesday, April 22, 2008

Faith

countdown to short-course du worlds qualifiers: 6 days
status of legs: shit

so muhammed went to the mountain.

[finn]
just out of curiosity, did your legs ever feel like crap for a week? if so, how did you deal mentally/physically?


being Perfect, the Oracle was probably never this pathetic, but i am fed up.


[the Oracle]
The answer is: Yes. I was trying to think up a nice, technical answer for you on how to deal. I can't. How about just "get over it."

he then prescribed intervals on the bike today, and 400s at the track tomorrow. left to mine own devices, i'd be on the sofa from now 'til sunday demanding peeled grapes from laf, but this season is all about changing the pitch up. and faith.

I know that's not what you want to hear, but you've been working hard, and the hard work will show on Sunday not yesterday, not today, probably not tomorrow. The feeling will go away on Sunday when the gun goes off.


hurrrrr. we'll see about that.

Wednesday, April 16, 2008

so i did. ask.

[finn]
i just looked at results from powerman alabama and got myself into a State. there is no way i can run that fast -- sub 6?? but i am not dashing to you to cry -- much -- because i know you've better things to do and i'm not 5 years old.

[the Oracle]
I only looked at this quickly, and don’t understand why you’re in a “state”. Who ran sub 6’s? The way I see it, you would have been 2rd overall (and there were several pros in the race). It’s hard to compare one course to another, especially when you don’t know the two courses, or the conditions on the day of the race. I’ll take a closer look when I have some more time, but give me an idea of what you’re concerned about.

[finn, tues AM]
i think the State's just a delicate mental condition brought on by two tectonic plates colliding in my mind: the idea of having low/no expectations (which i'm used to) and having higher, perhaps unrealistic expectations. that conflict may be the hardest thing about this season.

that's the complicated explanation. the simple one is that the powerman girls laid down some smokin' times for that first run.

[finn, tues PM]
even though my legs were decidely not-perky tonight, i still banged out 6x800, all under 3min with the help of my new friend Laconic David. yay.

[the Oracle]
Way to go!

By the way.....
"Kloner, Frank and Simpson placed first, second and third, respectively, despite being assessed a four-minute penalty for accidentally not running three-tenths of a mile of the run course. The penalty did not affect their order of finish but Kattouf wound up fifth behind Harris by five seconds."

That should make you feel better about those "smoking times". You'd be that fast too if you cut the freekin course. Another lesson learned...never trust the split times and distances of a duathlon.

Go get some rest and dream of gold.

FMC's right. having the Oracle is like having another heart.

Tuesday, April 08, 2008

going to long-course du worlds

LC worlds qualifier
6 april, north carolina
8k run - 53k bike - 8k run

in early april i'm usually emerging from hibernation, dusting off the tri bike and slouching into speedwork. this year the first race of the season was the regional qualifier for long course duathlon worlds this summer. who knows the strange ways of USA Triathlon? not i.

because of the rude beginning to the season, and because i'd like to step up the game this year, i appealed for coaching advice to someone whom i revere as much for his attitude as his storied athletic career. he graciously accepted and under this oracle's direction i have bitched, whined and wept over my top tube; but here it is april and i'm standing at the start of an A race feeling entitled to one of the top 2 slots in my age group that will send me to belgium in august. i feel entitled because i've done my homework and the Oracle and i have a Strategy. we didn't want to change too many things in my first race in 6 months, so the strategy is pretty simple: go hard and don't fuck up the transitions like i usually do.

8k run
the run course is flat and fast, if you're fast. i'm not. i'm safe, content to sit with the lead group of women, none of whom i know because i don't race this far from home. i recognised only 1 name on the pre-reg list -- Stacey R -- who's studly enough to be out of my league and coaches other studs. i peg the woman beside me as stacey based on body type and the fact that she chatters and chirps encouragement through the first half-mile. who talks that much during a race?? someone who's saving something for the bike, i now realise. but anyway.

a chick wearing compression socks that look suspiciously like arm warmers has had enough of the chatter, or maybe wants to win the race, because she shoots up the road at the 2 mile mark. no one else responds, so after a half-mile of indecision i do, and for the rest of the first run i linger in no man's land about 20sec back from her. she runs well, i note, but she doesn't have a cycling ass, so it will be interesting to see what she does on a bike.

into the transition zone... and so much for Strategy. i put my helmet on over the sunglasses on top of my head, i lose my balance trying to kick off my shoes and plant one foot in a puddle and the other in the helmet of the person next to me. i swear every time i enter a TZ i turn into a total moron.

i never thought anyone could have a slower transition than me unless they were maybe a beaver or reclining chair, but i make it outta there before compression-sock chick, and when i mount the bike i'm first F.

53K bike
how do you ride the beginning of a 32mi bike when you're in first place? good thing i don't have to worry about this for long! i'm toodling in my small ring when a tightly compact aero-human in a pointy helmet shoots by me like a bullet train. now SHE has a cycling ass. hmmmm - i strategise - i think it is time for snacks - and i am enjoying a tasty e-gel and accelerade when stacey rips by. let's chase her down! - she yells chirpingly while i gape at her, drooling gel. who talks that much during a race??? people who've got their shit together, maybe, because i don't. i can't get in a groove, the mental jukebox is skipping all over the place, and i've forgotten how to time-trial rolling courses.

i endeavor to keep stacey and aerogirl in sight, but i'm struggling and at mile 16 they're small specks. like insects. i am watching all the insects march along... and then i have my song. my legs feel better -- or maybe we've left the worst of the rollers behind -- and by mile 20 i've gained some ground on aerogirl, but stacey's still way out there. when another woman passes me i use her as motivation to leave aerogirl behind. the woman in front of me wasn't part of the lead group of runners, so unless she was totally dogging the first run i should be able to take her in the second. still, the voice of the Oracle's there telling me every second i make up in the bike is one i don't have to make up in the run, so i'm at her heels coming into transition.

8k run
T2's smoother: the only malfunction i have is trying to put on two left shoes. the Oracle suggested 2 pairs of flats; what he neglected to mention to the moron is that they should not look exactly the same. aerogirl and i leave the TZ at the same time, stacey's 2min up the road with second place 20sec ahead of me. i know second's within reach; i don't know about stacey.

i gain on second slowly and pass her in the first mile. i can't make up time on stacey, though. she's too good, too experienced; and i finish 1:37 back from her, roughly a minute of that lost in transition.

this is going to be easy - said the Oracle afterward. there is no question that you can go A LOT faster.

there is work to be done.
and i am going to belgium.

Thursday, April 03, 2008

countdown to worlds qualifier: 4 days

- where are you going? - D grumped when my watch chimed at 4:10 this morning.
- swimming.
his arm tightened like a boa.
- i thought you were laying off that until your race.
- no, that's *whiskey*. two different things.
- mmm. they're both vices.

'tis true, though -- the hooch is on the shelf 'til sun nite.** last night i knocked out one final hard ride, and between now and sunday's race it's ez street. what is ez street? i'm a grizzled veteran and i still don't know. so i approached the bench.

- I think you should do what you usually do the 3 days leading up to a race (I've changed your routine enough already, I don't want to mess too much with your lead-up to a race). Everything should be easy through race day. What do you usually do in the 3 days before races?
honesty is the best policy with The Oracle.
- what i usually do 3 days before a race is stop drinking whiskey and pray a lot, to a whole host of deities.
- That's a start. Also try doing some (4 to 6) 20 to 30 second pick-ups during your run(s) and 1 min pick ups on your ride(s).

then he gave me a bunch of hot tips for improving my transitions but i won't go into that because you'd be bored senseless and then i'd have to kill you.

- And Finn?
- yessir.
- Get to the race at least half an hour earlier than usual.

PAH. that's just crazy talk.

**wine
hooch.

Monday, March 31, 2008

The Oracle is motivating

finally getting back into the training groove after a month flipped upside-down by 12days in scotland, an unplanned trip to baltimore and a flu that knocked me out for 5 days. feels good to be moving again.

but this Quality Over Quantity school of thought The Oracle subscribes to demands a deep stock of emotional fortitude, mental focus and blind faith, 3 things noticeably absent from Finn's Top 10 Strengths list, which includes things like Eating ice cream, Not folding laundry and Ignoring spills on the kitchen counter. also The Oracle subscribes to Pain, another foreign construct in my happy world of 12mi @ 8min/mile. yesterday it took me 6hours to screw up enough courage to get on the bike and grind out a BTW 20mi ride and 3mi run. 77min of PAIN. a small child sitting on a seesaw in his backyard saw my face during the run and then ran inside, his fat little arms flailing.

- is it normal to cry during these workouts? - i asked The Oracle - or am i just a big pussy.
i am sure The Oracle never cries. firstly, he is a dude, and second he is perfect.

- yes - he surprised me - crying is normal for that type of workout. You’ll cry when you stand on the top step of the podium listening to the national anthem too.

that is why i have the blind faith.

Tuesday, March 04, 2008

The Oracle is perspicacious

at his suggestion, sent The Oracle links to last year's race results and splits. this morning's response:

I looked at a few of these, but not all yet—I’m still forming my thoughts on them. These are pretty impressive results, but you definitely have potential to do better. In your opinion, which races went well and why and which didn’t and why (if you know the whys)?

Have you worked on speed through transition? I don’t think it affected any outcomes (maybe one), but I think you could gain about 35 to 45 seconds for no additional effort if you worked on it a bit.

Also, do you have a du before 4/6? No problem if you don’t, wanted to try something if you do.
The Oracle has bounded up the divinity charts; now he's right up there with rudy, a rung or two below dr. fellows. why?
1. IF The Oracle is not on crack, i have the potential to be even better.
2. my du biggest weakness is transitions and he glommed to that right away. i'd never considered transitions as possibly affecting an overall outcome, but it makes sense that they do.
3. The Oracle wants to "try something" before LC quals and i'll bet it is something different than challenging the devil to a fiddling contest (prizes being a Team USA berth or my soul) which is what *i* was planning to try, but maybe not.

then this:
I would try to get on a Lifecycle/Spin class or some kind of equivalent while you're on vacation. Two or three very high intensity workouts a week (even if it's only 30min to 1hr) will keep you from losing what the base got you and can help you for short-course. Do the biking before the scotch though.

"high intensity" makes me nervous. just typing it triggers a poo. i have to ask.
when you speak of "high intensity" how high is high? are you talking long-course pace, short-course pace or balls-to-the-wall?

his response:
B to W.

FUCK.

Monday, March 03, 2008

the irish blog awards, and The Oracle

first of all, congrats to fatmammycat and twenty major for representin (FMC in spirit) at the irish blog awards saturday nite. FMC took best post award; twenty snagged most humorous post and best blog overall. congrats to both, and to arseblog for winning best sport blog.

now, let us speak of sport, which i don't do often because i know that playing with dust particles is more exciting than reading about so-and-so's training plan, unless so-and-so happens to be your competition and if you are my competition then i have done this blogging thing wrong wrong all wrong.

to some people, having the right coach is the difference between an All-American season and one that ends in june when you're burnt out on the sofa reading Lucky magazine and eating Mallomars. finding a proper coach can be an arduous process, and having just gone through it myself i feel qualified to offer this guide called:

HOW TO FIND THE RIGHT MULTISPORT COACH FOR YOU:
A GUIDE FOR DUMBFUCKS ACCUSTOMED TO FLYING BY THE SEAT OF THEIR PANTS AND SETTING UP THEIR BIKES IN TRANSITION AS THE STARTGUN SOUNDS

step #1. undergo a rude awakening. finding out that qualifiers for long-course duathlon (run-bike-run) worlds are only a month away is very effective. attendant upon this awareness are these realities:

  • - your first race of the season will be a worlds qualifier
  • - your second race will be another worlds qualifier (for short course), 3 weeks later
  • - you are just now coming off base. you have done NO speedwork.
  • - you will be off the bike for 11 consecutive days this month
  • - you are fucked
  • - you need professional help
  • - your bowels are hot, roiling liquid
2. while you're in the bathroom, text all your friends who have coaches and ask whether it's too late to get connected with them (it is MARCH, after all). don't discriminate, blanketbomb. beggars can't be choosers.

3. back at your desk, stare at your unresponsive phone and then recall a crazy pipedream idea E proposed on a ride. send an email to the 2004 elite world duathlon champion and throw yourself at his mercy, esplainin' you're seeking training & racing advice from someone who's:

  • - experienced, and successful
  • - okay training by feel not numbers, and not all caught up in heart-rate, wattages, V02 max or lactate-threshold. some people dig that shit. not me.
  • - appreciative of the fact there's life outside training and racing. there's whisk(e)y, for one, and 65hr work weeks.
  • - unlikely to get on your tits too bad if you spend a weekend in the boozetank or battling the Dog, instead of riding a bike.
4. SQUEEEEE when he says yes and run back to the bathroom.

so now, for the first time i have an Oracle to guide me and reveal certain truths -- like if i wish to place top 2 in my AG in carrboro, NC on april 6th i need to get on a bike as often as i can during those 11 days in scotland.

so, finn's world has undergone a seismic shift, and instead of lazily slouching toward a half-ironman in june we are rabbiting into race shape for april. huzzah! -and i need a nap.

Tuesday, October 23, 2007

LC du worlds wrap-up

after the race on sunday i told FMC to beat me with a shovel if i ever talked about racing long-course duathlon again. 2 days later my legs are still just as sore and that statement's still valid. somewhat. okay ask me tomorrow.

in short, it was a beautiful day, the courses were fun, the race was well-organised, and i finished 11th amateur F and 5th in my age group. could have done better, but isn't that usually the case?

my folks were an invaluable support crew: they navigated and drove the technical, convoluted bike course while i studied it from the passenger seat until i could play the entire 18K loop in my head. they filled my gas tank, found the grocery store and stocked me with bananas and gluten-free cookies, and they tracked the number of women in my age group ahead of me during the race. all i had to do was run and ride my bike some.

first run leg was 2 laps of a 7.5K course. i went out relaxed, with no intention of sticking with anyone. felt confident and strong, though i wobbled a bit when a heavy panter decided she was going to stick on my left shoulder. i couldn't hear my own breathing over her locomotion, and was i imagining that every 20sec or so she'd under her breath say "good job" to herself? to me? or was it "huzzah"? "gotcha"? whatever it was, she was negging my groove and i wished she'd give me some space. everytime i passed other runners i'd slot in front of them just to be free of her for a bit but she'd always glom back on. i finally shook her at a water stop and enjoyed the blessed silence.

the run course was fairly flat, with some cobbled and some sandy sections along the canal. it was in a sandy section that i came upon one of the physically disabled racers bogged down in his wheelchair while runners filed by. "little help here!" he called. "what do you need?" i asked, "a push?" "push, push!" he responded. so i pushed, hoping that i would not flip him over a bump and into the canal like that OJ scene in Naked Gun. i pushed and then a chick behind me pushed and later a course marshal pushed and wheelchair dude eventually finished the race in a grueling 7.5 hours.

finished the first run in 12th place and after a clean transition hit the first of 4 loops of the bike, which started with a short climb, followed by a screaming descent then a deadstop into a headwind on a bridge across the james river. very rude. very painful way to start 2.5 hours of riding, especially when the legs which performed so well running just aren't giving it up for the bike and you are passed by half a dozen women moving so fast you wonder if they've got the same headwind you do. give it a couple miles, i told myself, and the legs will come 'round. but they never did, and a course that promised to be so fun -- technical, twisty and varied -- turned out to be a sufferfest. a clanking noise down by my cranks grew louder and louder. maybe my bottom bottom bracket will fall out, i thought, and then i can stop, but no such luck. i measured time by gels consumed, and when i finally schlumped off the bike after the 4th lap i could barely run to transition.

but legs that were so unresponsive on the bike perked up for the second run. i don't know how it's possible to feel good running while sucking so badly on the bike, but i pulled it off. i passed a ton of people on that second run, downing gatorade and showering myself with water at the aid stations; the day was heating up and some people were cramping, beginning to walk. i collected a couple age group spots on that second run, but even had i run 4min miles there was still no way to make up for the 15-20min i lost on the bike. but stuff happens, you know? -and you cross the finish line at the world championships, the announcer pronounces your name CORRECTLY for once, and there are bottles of gatorade and bags of salted peanuts and your family and that is enough.

thanks to all who offered good wishes.

now, it's SofaTime.

Wednesday, October 17, 2007

countdown to richmond: 4 days

the bikes have been tuned, the hammie will be tuned by rudy this aft, carbs are loading as i type (better safe than sorry!), and tomorrow morning i am off to richmond.

i am not stressed about worlds. much. okay, i did have a dream about the race last night... in fact let me tell you about my dream because i'm a woman and according to one of westolowski's witnesses that's what we do. i dreamed that i finished up the first run with the leaders (1st sign this is Not Real) and darted into transition, only to find that my water bottles were empty, my shoes were gone, and so was my bike. i ran to the water table and decanted dozens of dixie cups into my water bottles and begged a pair of cycling shoes off a spectator. i still could not find my bike though, so i appealed to an official, and he said no worries we'll hook you up and he pointed to the mount/dismount area, and there was a rocking horse. and i had to ride the rocking horse and of course i didn't get very far and i kept telling myself even MY transitions are not this bad, it must be a dream, has to be, but i must have rocked for 20min before i finally convinced myself because my adductors are still sore. see, not stressed at all.

though i travel with the Mac Trinity, i may not write while i'm down there. if you're interested you might wanna check out two of my competitors -- er, Team USA teammates. these girls are the Real Deal and i predict for them age group podium finishes, maybe even overall placings.
http://kerrirobbins.blogspot.com/
http://www.aliciaparr.com/blog/

ttyl.

Friday, October 12, 2007

countdown to richmond: 1+ week

in the bank is another week, such as it was. getting my ass out the door in the afternoon has become a mental battle, and many times the bike loses out to the hammock. during an ez ride, E attempted to console me.
- it's all just polishing, right? i mean, you're talking about workouts that will give you a fraction of a degree of improvement.
- i suppose.
- really, it's the hours you put in a month ago that are going to help you out in richmond.
an awkward silence ensues.
- you mean the hours i racked up in maine.
- with the gin. yeah, those.

we sensibly abandoned this subject for a discussion about the top-speed of armadillos and whether or not they're capable of "scampering." E says to scamper all you need is legs, while i argued
to afford scamperability there has to be a level of spinal flexibility, which your average armadillo don't got. clearly this calls for more research, pref performed on a beach in st. john with a mojito in one hand and iphone in t'other.

this week i eeked out only one quality workout, a greg watson special [cos i figure who better to (try to) emulate than the duathon world champ several times over]; to wit:
warm up - run 2.5 miles - ride 5 miles - run 2.5 - ride 5 - run 2.5 - cooldown.
this workout's supposed to be done at race pace. it wasn't, but it was done. period.

when i got on the bike, however, i was warmed-up from the run, so i bombed the descent on my twisty, rough road that may resemble parts of the purportedly technical, potholed richmond bike course. as i dodged potholes and shot tangents i thought if this is what richmond's like, the bike will be a blast. hills, tight turns and road challenges may give me a leg up over the Tiny People... unless upon meeting the course's bumps and grates the Tiny People fling their water bottles or Tiny Bodies in front of me, in which case we're all fucked.

so.
it is friday. Eat, drink, and be merry / For tomorrow we die.

Monday, October 08, 2007

countdown to richmond: minus-2 weeks

last week was the ideal time to notch some quality du-specific workouts. one of my blogging competitors has been doing 80-mile rides and 5-hour bricks. that's great for her. last week i spent 5 hours in the hammock, mentally flagellating myself for not being on my bike but lacking the motivation to get out there.

FMC's account of her 27K run finally punted my arse back onto the trails on friday. when running is good it's very very good, and it was very good friday night.

rode and ran some long, easy miles this weekend. hammie was talkative on the hills on sunday, but i trust rudy and denise will iron me out enough to toe the line with at least 85% capacity. last week i whined to rudy about a calf muscle that'd been spasming all week: some focused deep-tissue massage & a cold whirlpool put me to rights and i haven't felt it since. he is magic.

my uniform arrived: it's made of speedo fastskin, a technological textile marvel designed to slice through water with minimal resistance. michael phelps wears fastskin. nice idea in theory, and probably great for the team USA triathletes, but giving duathletes fastskin makes as much sense as giving a skunk a metal detector. unless it rains in richmond. a whole whole lot. in the case of a massive deluge we may be unbeatable, if we can keep our bicycles upright.

Monday, October 01, 2007

wrapping up the regular duathlon season

this is why multisport pwns bike racing -- we get to race at venues like this while poor roadies spend their weekends hanging out in crappy industrial parks. after the race yesterday i swam in the ocean and lay insensate in the sand until my stomach began to pule.

the last duathlon of the regular season started inauspiciously. i miscalculated the race start time and barely got my bike racked before the transition zone closed: i showed up just as the national anthem was being sung and got busted by a volunteer who told me to PLEASE stand still for the national anthem, so i did, only i was so discomfited that i dropped my bike, and in trying to catch it, i dropped my helmet, which rolled and came to rest at the feet of a woman who just glared at me for putting her in the awkward position of either standing still for our national ditty or politely returning my helmet. she returned my helmet, and i curtsied, because i don't know if you know this but it is okay to move during our national anthem if you are curtsying.

it would have behooved me to warm up for the first run because 1.5miles isn't far at all and should be run quickly, not at the 7min/mile effort i put forth, but instead of doing striders minutes before the start-gun sounded, i was on my hands & knees, following a deer trail through thick multiflora rose, in search of a bathroom spot because whatever stomach virus i had last week came back full force. sorry if i pooed in anybody's bed.

so the first run was slow, but no other women challenged me. out on the 14mile bike course i overtook a rolling block of half-a-dozen guys, who responded by repeatedly passing and then pulling right in front of me, which is really motherfuckin RUDE because then I have to jam on the brakes and drop 5meters back to get out of the drafting zone, and then ramp up and pass your ass aGAIN. at mile 10 i thought i'd broken my boyz until we made a hard right over the drawbridge and there they were, buzzing at my heels like that cluster of deerflies that assailed me in maine.

though it was annoying at the time, they motivated me to ride faster than i would have alone -- i was still feeling thursday's hill intervals in my quads and would have been content to putz along with grandpa and his cruiser bike on the way to the Silver Spoon Diner.

commenced the 5K run alongside one of the pack boyz. our strides matched exactly, tamping out the beat to BRMC's American X in my head.
- oh dear - i commented to him - we run the same too.
- naw, you were faster than me by the end of the first run. i was really working to keep up with you on the bike.
- you guys were good incentive out there.
- yeah, you were definitely the leader of our pack.
i left him behind as i tripped merrily on my way. there were no women in striking distance -- the 2nd place woman finished 3min back -- so i ran relaxed, but vigilant. i ended up 8th overall out of 100, and demonstrated my cycling prowess by riding my bike into a culvert and doing an endo before the crowd gathered for the awards ceremony. yup, that's yer first-place woman lying in the ditch there. bring her a sammich won't you?

Friday, September 28, 2007

countdown to richmond: 3 weeks

in the bank is another week's training, highlights of which were a track workout of 1200s and quarters at sub-5K pace; and hill intervals on the bike last night, followed by a tempo trail run on legs a bit tenderised by 6 miles on the treadmill that morning. an easy ride today, and easy brick tomorrow and maybe a race sunday will finish off the week. ordered my Team USA uniform, too.

hill intervals on the bike are never fun, even when you've got pantera's "Walk" stuck on the mental jukebox. there's no fluidity or zen, only hurt -- plus there's the burmese mountain dog that sits in wait on the hill cos he knows your stupid ass is gonna come up and go down, again & again, but at least you KNOW when he's coming, not like the Three JackRussells of the Apocalypse that pop up out of fucking nowhere.

but as fisch noted on tuesday, the suffering is timed and finite, and if you can get your mind on-board so it's working with you rather than against, the time does pass and you do get stronger. and when you're going head-to-head in richmond with some chick from germany, you can brew some confidence from the memory of this workout and the fact you got through it. a little pantera never hurts, either.

so here's phil, provin that his band iswas waaaaay better than zep ever was:



happy MFBT.

Monday, September 24, 2007

"if every day were a duathlon"

racing is HARD.
duathlons are HARD.

running 2 miles, then cycling 20, then running 5 – that's HARD.

i forgot this during the last 2 months when i was playing dollies with LAF and loading tanqueray.

AJ popped up next to me at the starting line.

- i SO don't want to be here – he announced – i don't know why i came.
- hi AJ.
- you'll probably pass me on the bike. i don't know why i even came. Ivy Tibialis is acting up and i probably shouldn't even be here – Ivy Tibialis is AJ's pet name for his ITB. hen calls his Van Halen. - DON'T pass me on the bike. i'll cry like a baby.
- okay.

- my ankle still hurts from crashing last weekend too. i feel old and creaky – AJ is 26 – i really don't know why i'm here. how do YOU feel?

- me? hungry.

- hungry?!? - i had my normal breakfast at the normal time and there's no reason i should be hungry, but i have an empty, rumbling feeling in my gut.
- yeah. i could go for some scrambled eggs and bacon right now. maybe some scrapple - AJ looks at me disbelievingly - and a short stack of pancakes, with kerrygold butter and maine maple syrup. - the guy in front of me snorts; AJ looks cross.
- why do i even talk to you.


the starting gun sounds and i take off at a manageable pace with maggie, my closest competition as i figure it, right on my shoulder. she sits there for the first mile; i can hear her breathing harder than i am and it's comforting to know that i could leave her behind if i tighten the screws just a bit. i don't, though, because i'm not sure that tightening the screws won't detonate me.


as i'm pulling my bike off the rack, maggie's just coming into transition, and as i'm noodling the beginning of the bike leg maggie passes me moving at mach-10. maggie has NEVER passed me on the bike. maggie has never passed me EVER. this is not right. but i don't panic because i'm still in my small chain ring after all, gathering the gods of war. and a half-mile later when i pass her going 24mph i feel implacable and bulletproof... until a minute later i hear the rumble of her disc wheel and there she is. i know you'll smoke me on the run – she yells to me as she passes me A-gain – so i just figure i'll try to stay as close as i can on the bike! WTF?? who talks that much in a race?? who's to say i'll smoke her on the run?


after so much time off from racing, it takes me 10miles to recover the zen of time-trialing, that feeling where your knees tuck neatly under your armpits and you draw the strength for your pedal-stroke from your core instead of just your legs. i start to feel good then, or maybe it was just a tailwind; and when i pass a cluster of 4 guys blatantly drafting off each other, i feel even more immortal; but when i make the last turn before transition i can see the rose-pink of maggie's uniform in my peripheral vision.

i nail a smooth second transition until i realise i'm still packing my spare tube, co2 cartridges and inflater in my jersey pocket, so i flit back to transition to drop the weight. maggie's pulling on her flats.
- go get 'em! - she says brightly. she is so NICE. why am i such a BITCH.

- see you out there.

- yeah, i'll see the back of you. - again, why so nice??

i believe i'm a stronger runner than maggie, but i believed that of the bike too, so i'm running uncertain now. my hamstring settles the issue, though: i find there is a certain edge at which it begins to speak its case most plangently, so i pitch my effort just below this red zone. a man with a lovely, rolling gait passes me and i focus on his feet, his turnover a mantra, but he breaks halfway in – i see it like we saw rasmussen break in the mountains after another contador attack – his form suddenly deteriorates; that easy roll is gone.
- just stay relaxed – i murmur as i leave him behind, and wonder if he's asking himself who talks that much in a race?

no part of this run is fun until i am crossing the line and high-fiving roy, my pal the fuji rep. i'm hanging with roy and his sidekick frank awaiting the awards ceremony when AJ finds me.
- i can't believe it. i was frickin' third.
- congratulations! that's awesome, AJ.
- no it's not. i thought i was second, and i worked my ass off to pass the third-place guy, but i just looked at the results and one dude was so far ahead of us that i didn't even know he was out there.

- are you sure the results are right?
- yeah. he's beaten me before. and get this: he's 43. that's OLD. he's older than YOU, and you're frickin OLD!!

- why are you wearing a skirt?

- it's not a skirt, it's a KILT.

- looks like a skirt to me. you got anything on under there?

- no. wanna check?

- i may be old, but you still jerk off thinking about me don't you.

- fuck you.

- i'll take that as a yes.


we ceased our banter to cheer the final finisher, a 10-year old girl who finished about an hour and a half after we did. her mom paced her to the line, and her dad hefted her in the air as soon as she crossed the finish line. a huge smile emblazoned her face.

- that's almost a reason to have kids right there – i said to AJ, a confirmed bachelor.

- yeah, if every day were a duathlon - he giggled at his own joke - if every day for 18 years were a duathlon.
i laughed too. but if every day were a duathlon i would be a very tired finn indeed. i was out of commission for the rest of the day. racing is hard fucking stuff, man.

Friday, September 21, 2007

finn comes clean about doping

if you live under a rock, or you don't eat, drink and bleed (oh, the bleeding!!) cycling, you may be unaware that floyd landis lost his appeal and has been found guilty of using synthetic testosterone during the 2006 tour de france; and he's been stripped of his yellow jersey. and yesterday we learned that espoir phenom genevieve jeanson admitted to taking EPO since age 16. this is the first time she's admitted doping since being suspended for life after a positive drug test in 2005. in the interview that aired yesterday, she confessed to hating herself while cheating, lamenting that she was living a lie and claiming that she felt much better now after fessing up.

well my insides are roiling a bit myself so i'm banking on feeling much better when i come clean here.

see, i'm a doper too.

before every hard training ride and race, i eat a tray of Peeps. only the yellow, pink, white and purple ones though. i can't stomach the blues. they turn my lips a funny color and i think about that Perfect Circle song and then i think that maybe i HAVE been dead all this time and i get into a real mindfuck and wake up curled in front of the toilet with my stuffed otter. so i don't eat the blue ones.

if i have absolutely no other recourse and all that's left are the blues, i will melt them on a spoon and bang that shit right into my iliac vein.

when i'm Peeping i can go harder and recover faster.

i intend to Peep hard tomorrow morning, right before i return to the racing season after a 2-month layoff. 2 months?? jesus, i hope i remember how to fuck up my transitions.

i apologise to all those i've disappointed.
but you needed to know the truth.

[hmm. that didnt rly help teh old bow-els.]

Friday, July 27, 2007

contador tested positive?!?

time: yesterday aft
place: JM lot
dramatis personae: LAF y moi


LAF: did you hear the latest on the tour??
oh fuck me. another painful exegesis. three times at work today i got thrown on the ropes and had to come to the rescue of my sport. poor cycling, withering like tinkerbell. :sigh:

F: yes...

LAF: so, you heard what happened today?

F: well, i heard what happened late last night, about rasmussen getting booted from Rabobank.

LAF: you didn't hear about Discovery?

F: nooo. what about Discovery?

LAF: contador tested positive.

F: shut up.

LAF: no, i'm serious. he tested positive for testosterone after Stage 15 and got kicked out of the Tour.

F: not contador.

LAF: so evans is in yellow now, and if levi can make up time in the TT it'll be the 9th straight american Tour victory.

F: you're serious about contador.

LAF: dead serious.

F: motherfucker. i really liked that little dude. he was scrappy. but vino was scrappy too. fucking contador.

LAF: haha. just kidding. contador's still in yellow.

i'm not sure whether the question is "why are my friends such pricks" or "why am i so gullible" but the take-away lesson is that busloads of our heroes could ejected from the Tour because of drug use, and i wouldn't be surprised. disappointed, betrayed, but not surprised.

earlier this week rudy told me of EPO allegations swirling around one of my triathlon competitors. i'd never heard such a rumor, and i find it ridiculous. EPO isn't cheap, and it's not readily available AFAICS. and why would normal people with jobs and families and lives outside their sport take such a risk?

i can understand how a Tour contender riding for a team paying him $600,000 USD a year might submit to pressure that i'm sure is ubiquitous in that rarefied environment. it's stupid, sure, but within the realm of reason. but taking EPO to win a no-name race in new jersey? get real.