Tag: brick

My Heart was Racing

My heart was racingThe USA Triathlon Olympic-Distance National Championships was this past weekend. My age group wave entered the water at (or about) 8:21. Last winter, with snow frozen to my eyebrows, I wouldn’t have imagined being a DNS.

Saturday morning, I rolled on to the road, earlier than my wave took off, but later than a usual Saturday ride. I wore my full race kit.

My disappointment of not going to Wisconsin had faded. But I wasn’t quite ready to rally around the thought of “next year.  I just wanted to ride my bike and run in the streets, like I had trained to do on this day, somewhere else.

A huffy like mine
Mine was more beat up & had cool stickers w/ my name on the seat. (well, I had lost the x so it was: ALE)

As soon as I finished the warm-up, I let go. No plans, no goals, no target pace (no power meter). Traffic was light and roads were clean – I swear I had a tailwind for the entire 26 mile loop. I rode by feel.  I had palpable moments where I felt like my 9 year old self screaming down the huge hill on our street on my awesome huffy. (yes, banana seat & monkey bars)

At some point the thought crossed my mind that I was doing exactly what I needed to do in honor of the event. I thought about the hundreds and hundreds of athletes who would be there – racing their hearts out.  I felt so impressed by the thought of them, and I felt connected to the journey, even though I was 1,000 miles east of where I’d hoped to be.

My heart felt happy – filled with the spirit of triathlon and age group competition. I love this sport. Since deciding not to go to WI, I’ve sometimes felt like all the hours and training might have been wasted. But flying along in the aerobars – free of fear and enjoying the ride – I could see how far I’d come and knew it wasn’t a waste. I was having a blast – and for me, this is the point of all of my triathlon stuff.  

My leg were tired when I hopped off the bike, but I was determined to hit the first mile of the run at my dream race pace. I kept the Nationals’ athletes in my thoughts – my heart was racing with them.

Weekend Warrior – I’m a cliche

If my life was a sitcom, everyone would have seen it coming. The team: Bottoms Up!

Sunday’s workout was a brick. (45 minute easy ride followed by an hour of moderate intervals) One of my favorite workouts. But this Sunday didn’t belong to me and my training plan. It was chock-full of kid and school related events. I was on the road by 5:30 in order to make it to the 8:30 start of the Parent Kickball PTO Fundraiser Tournament.  (can you see where this is going…?)

Our team was the one team without matching, custom t-shirts.  We were old-school, playground types. We played our hearts out and lost  in the first game (7-6). No worries. We were here for fun and thought we have a nice, brief tournament experience. Nope. There was a consolation match after the second round of games.  We just needed to wait an hour to play. So we all sat around in the bleachers and watched the kids and the other games. (see it..?)

10:30, we’re back on the field. We’re working out logistics with the other losing team that we’re playing. And then we’re up, I’m 1st in the line-up. I go for the solid bunt down the 3rd base line and sprint like a mad woman to first. You know what happens, right? That didn’t feel good AND I’m out. Now I take some time to stretch.

The game was a lot of fun.  The teams were equally matched in kickball skills and fun having. I found my position, pitching.  I even got some awesome coaching from a team mate who plays in several WAKA leagues (I had no idea there was adult league kickball). We won. We went through the lineups, smacking hands and exchanging “good-games”. And we all scattered to make AAA baseball Trophy Day games, etc.

At home, I hung out with the foam roller for a while. After a couple of hours at the baseball fields and a couple more at the team after party, I was done. Tired and in pain. I was asleep with the kids at 8:00 that night.

Waking the next morning to swim, I was sore. The pool was cold, so the swim felt good. But overall, not good. I was a wounded weekend warrior. I knew it. With all of my training and my endurance…with all I know about stretching…with all I know about 40-something parents engaging in occasional weekend sports… Seriously?!

A trip to the chiropractor confirmed the right hip flexor strain – which was pulling in a nasty, painful way on my sacroiliac. Rest for me.

It’s sort of nutty. I was trying to think if kickball was worth not being able to train to plan this week or maybe not racing on Sunday. I don’t think so.
But would I do it again? Heck yea!