Buffalo Trails Triathlon Race Report...my luckiest race yet

My 28, 2012.                                                     I set my alarm for 4:30 AM race morning, but since I went to bed a little after 9 the night before, my body woke up a little before 4 AM.  I laid there and thought about the race until my alarm finally went off.  I had packed most everything in the car the night before the race to minimize stress on race morning, but the forty-five minutes that I'd given myself to eat, finish last minute race packing (filling water bottles with  water + heed + sustained energy) and morning bathroom routine went by really fast. 

Tyler (my husband and amazing supporter) and I left the driveway at 5:15 AM, right on time.  We drove up Hwy 68 all the way to Maysville, Kentucky. It was a nice, straight, country route, and I was grateful that Tyler decided to come with me (I left it up to him) to support me (including driving me, so I could concentrate on thinking about the race rather than the road). 

We arrived to the race site around 6:45 AM, and I went through the pre-triathlon race routine: packet pickup, body marking, and transition set up.  This was my 6th triathlon race ever, and first tri race in over 10 months, so transition set up is still a bit stressful for me.  The race started with the swim a half mile upstream from where the transition area was, so a cute trolley picked up racers and transported us to the swim start.  I tried to get on the first two trolley trips, but somehow timed both so that the trolley was full by the time I tried to get on.  The third  and final trolley trip came back around and  boarded the rest of us.  I met a few athletes while waiting for the trolley, and was able to ask one of them who had done this race before 'at what mile this Big Hiney Hill the race director had warned us about via email was located along the course'.  He answered my question, and gave me some other helpful tips about the bike course.

The trolley dropped us off at the top of a hill with a gravel road as our path to the river (swim start).  Those who had done this race before knew to wear sandals, but those of us who had not walked cautiously and whined a lot about the gravel on our sensitive feet as we made our way to the start.  Shortly after we reached the rest of the athletes along the shore of the Ohio River, the race director announced that the race would be delayed 30 minutes because there was fog on the river, and the barge that we were jumping off of for the start of the race could not travel down river until the fog cleared.  It was already 71 degrees and humid at this point, so of course my immediate thought was 'this is going to make it even hotter by the end of the race', and although I think my body does not deal with heat as well as many other athletes, I reminded myself  that 'this will make it hotter for everyone, not just me, so deal with it.'

   

A few minutes before 8:30, the barge arrived, and I walked up the ramp and positioned myself in the first row to enter the water.  The National Anthem was sung, the Cannon was shot, and we were off! My goggles fogged up the minute I entered the water, so all I could see during the swim was colors and shapes.  Luckily, the guide buoys were big and bright red, and the athletes swim caps were bright orange, so I knew to just follow red and orange. The swim was downstream, and while the current wasn't as fast an in previous years of this race from what I've heard, there was a bit of a current to help us along.  The last 200 meters of the swim, however, were unexpected: I started feeling pushed around a lot (to the side, and backwards).  I had swam in the ocean and in lakes before but had never swam in a river, so I thought maybe this was just some strange phenomenon about swimming in a river as you get closer to the shore.  I found out from Tyler after the race, that a barge went by as we were swimming, and caused a huge wake (thus the strange resistance and tossing around I felt towards the end of the swim), which made all the spectators say "ooooh that sucks for them!"  I exited the water, knowing I wasn't the first person to exit the water, but I felt there weren't too many ahead of me. Turns out I was the first female to exit the water! I ran up a couple flights of stairs, turned left, and was in the transition area.  I did my transition (not at lightning speed) and took off on the bike. 

I knew the Big HIney Hill was around mile 8, so my plan was to stay 'comfortably strong' before I got to the hill.  The first 8 miles of the course were definitely manageable, with some rolling hills, so I was averaging 20.7 MPH for the first 8 miles.  Then came Big Hiney Hill.  This hill was nearly a mile long, and averaged 7.8% grade (which sucks).  I struggled up that hill, got passed by several men (one of whom I actually thought was a woman) and when I crested Big Hiney, my new average speed (over the last 9 miles) was reduced to 16.8 MPH (nearly 4 miles per hour!) My legs felt shot, but after that hill we were rewarded with some nice downhill sections.  I kept peddling hard as I went down the hills, but the relief I did get felt great.  I watched my average speed creep up over the remainder of the 25 mile bike ride.  At a left hand turn at the bottom of a hill on mile 15, a police officer at the intersection of this turn yelled to me " Are you the last one?"  I yelled back "I hope not!"  I pondered that question from the police officer over the next several miles.  I wondered if he A) really just wanted to go home and was hoping the race was over, and really thought I could be the last one, or B) was joking (so not funny, dude).  I believe that police officer needs some sort of training in 'athletic psychology' if he's going to work another race, but at least his question gave me something the think about over the next couple miles.  Around mile 16, I discovered that my bike would not go into the big gear anymore, which was unfortunate because there were some good long downhill stretches that last 9 miles that I just had to coast down (which is not my style).  As I biked into transition, I saw Tyler and another friend who was there supporting her husband, and that made me smile. 

I transitioned and took off on the run.  It was hot out, but I was keeping a pace I was relatively comfortable (and happy) with.  The first 1.5 miles of the run was on road, with no shade.  I passed a couple men (one of whom I thought was a female when he passed me on the bike, so that was a nice 'pick me up' to realize it was actually a man), and I was passed by one female who was running really fast.  At the 1.5 mile mark, we approached a huge set of stairs and were directed up them.  I ran up the first 3 stairs, and then decided to walk (it was hot, and the stairs were killing my calf's).  I got to the top of the stairs and was welcomed by some kids who were handing out ice cold towelettes to squeeze on ourselves.  It felt amazing!  I proceeded with the remainder of the run: 1.5 more miles on the grass, on a natural flood plain.  I am really clumsy and slow at running on grass, so I was less than thrilled to have to run on grass, with no shade for the remainder of the triathlon.  The width of space we had to run on was roughly four feet, with steep declines on each side.  I had visions of tripping on the grass and rolling down one of the hills.  Luckily, I only had a few 'ankle give outs' , but did not trip, and kept chugging along to the finish.

I crossed the finish line, not knowing what my finish time was, or what my place was, but somehow I felt content with my overall performance.  The results were posted about a half hour after I finished, and I saw that I was the 2nd place female overall ! I let out a little yelp and jumped up and down a few times.

2nd Place Overall Female Plaque, and prize money in the envelopes for: 2nd Place; Fastest swim split; and Fastest bike split.

I say this was my luckiest race yet because there are so many factors that contribute into how well one places in a race: there's all the internal factors that make up the individual athletes performance (race preparation/ training; adverse incidents, or lack thereof, on race day; how one handles various weather conditions; one's mental toughness; etc) and then there is the big external factor: who shows up on race day.  Looking back at the previous two years race results from this race, I noticed that with the time I did this year, I would have placed 1st in 2011, however, I would have placed 7th in 2010 (perhaps a little higher up, as the current in the river was much faster that year, but I certainly wouldn't have been top 3 overall)!  If you have the desire to receive an age group or overall award, then train and prepare to the best of your ability.  You can't control who shows up on race day, but if you've done the best you can do to get ready for race day, you just may eventually get lucky!

What I learned:

Get some anti-fog for my goggles.  Swimming in open water and not being able to see is frustrating.  

Get a bike tune-up before my first tri of the season, or any super important race, for that matter.  It doesn't make much sense to train your butt off and to prepare in every single other way possible, and Not make sure your equipment is in tune.  My bike time could have been faster if my bike was working properly, which could have won me the race (you never know).   

Either pony up the money for some tri running shoes, or take the 10 seconds to put socks on before the run during transition.  I earned some gnarly blisters on the short 5K run! 

I am lucky to have Tyler in my life.  He chooses to get up early, drive me to races, pump my bike tires, etc. on race morning; then takes pictures, cheers, and waits patiently for me to pass by him just a few times during a 2 hour race.  Triathlon isn't the best 'spectator sport', yet he comes to support me anyway.  He never complains that I spend hours away from home training, while he's doing side-jobs or working on our house.  He doesn't have the same innate competitive desire and drive I do, but he understands why I do what I do. 

Putting Things in Perspective

The timing of my friend Tom’s blog post the other week couldn’t have been better.  Tom wrote a post entitled “Racing without Competing” and after the week of training I had, I really needed to be reminded of a few things. 

It is now less than one week until my first triathlon of the 2012 season.  This will be the earliest in the season I have participated in a triathlon, and I’m now realizing why I never competed any earlier than mid June in my 2 previous triathlon seasons: preparedness.  It’s hard for me to get much (or any, as the case has been thus far in my still relatively novice bike life) outdoor biking in over the winter, due to the cold and/ or lack of day light hours after I get home from work. I thought I did a pretty good job this past winter of riding my trainer and doing spin classes at the gym, but it’s just not the same as riding on road.  Running: I kept that up decently over the winter, but spent more time on the treadmill than I did on roads.  And swimming, well, I swam once over the winter and that was in November!  I love swimming outdoors, and it is hard for me to get motivated to swim indoors. 

With the realization that it is ‘offically tri season’, I decided to get my butt in gear a couple weeks ago.  While I know this re-found work ethic will probably not benefit my upcoming race, at least I’ve finally accepted the fact that I’ve been ‘lazy’ for too long, and it’s time to train like a triathlete for the next several months!    My first week of ‘training like a triathlete, version 2012’ hit me hard (physically and mentally). 

Sunday: rode my commuter bike 5 miles to Transy,  Swam 2500 yards, rode 5 miles home. 

              I think I was tired from my BRICK workout (30 minute trainer ride + 4 mile run at 8:07 pace) the day before, and the culmination of my entire week of workouts before (which included one 24 hour period of: running intervals in the morning, bike hill repeats that afternoon, and a run the following morning). 

Monday:  Running Intervals~ which left my quads sore for the following four days.

            2 super fast people joined us for Monday morning intervals that week.  I am a sprinter by nature, so I am not use to being the one doing the 'chasing' during interval runs. They really pushed me, which was great, but it was a bit mentally tough on me to get beat so badly by another female, at what I consider my 'best event'. 

Tuesday: BRICK Workout: 30 minutes on the bike trainer + 2 mile run at 7:45 pace.

Wednesday: Bike Time Trial:  6.8 mile warm up + 12.75 mile Time Trial.  = 19.5 mile ride.

            We line up slowest to fastest for these Time Trials.  A very strong/ athletic female was next behind me.  I knew I had a 30 second head start on her, but figured she would pass me at some point during the race.. That 'some point' came at MILE 3!! Holy Moly it scared the bejesus out of me when she passed me, because I was expecting 'some point' to be closer to mile 10.  My immediate reaction was a playful 'Boooooooo', but I remembered my manners a said "Good job girl, you are awesome." I was disappointed in myself though. 

Thursday:  6 mile ' tempo' run at 8:36 pace (that's a slow 6 mile tempo run for me)
            
           Splits:  8:01; 8:08; 8:49; 9:14; 8:58; 8:23.  I started off fine, but after a couple miles my legs felt so heavy and tired that I couldn't even more them fast enough to be breathing hard. 

Friday: 4.5 mile run at 7:51 pace, + 2.7 mile run at 8:35 pace (with 3 beer stops... helping my friend 'train' for a Tap N Run)

Here's why I needed to be reminded that week, that I am NOT a professional athlete, and the ONLY person I'm REALLY 'competing against' is myself: 

Judging on how sore my quads were from Monday's interval run, it is very likely that I ran faster than I ever have that morning, but was I happy about that, No: because I got my butt kicked by another female.

At the Bike Time Trial on Wednesday, I had my fastest time/ pace on that course, ever, but was I happy?  No: because I got my butt kicked by another female. 

On Thursday, I got left in the dust by the running group I started out with, and near the end of the run, when one of the very sweet females in the group said to me "Looking good Jenn!" I replied "Thanks for lying to my face!" I was being sarcastic (kind of) but I shouldn't have responded that way.  In reality, I SHOULD have considered a 6 mile run at 8:36 pace on very tired legs a good run, but I didn't ~ because I was the slowest runner in that group that morning.  I even knew that none of them had done the Bike Time Trial the night before and had legs as tired as mine, but I didn't give myself that credit. 

I need to make a more conscious effort to think about how far I've come, and not worry about the world (athletes) around me so much.  I need to put things in perspective more often than I do: 

Like the fact that I weigh 15 pounds less than I did 4 years ago before I started running;

Like the fact that 3 years ago, I was thrilled to do a 6 mile training run at 9 minute pace (on fresh legs);

Like the fact that I am improving on the bike, and if I keep working hard and not getting frustrated, I have so much more room to improve!

And, last but not least: the fact that I AM a good athlete.. because what defines 'good' anyway?  Anyone who dedicates themselves, their time, their energy, their life to exercising, and being healthy is a 'good athlete'  in comparison to the majority of the population.  Like my parents always told me growing up: "There will always be someone faster than you, and there will always be someone slower than you." They had to tell me that a lot, because I have had this problem of 'not being able to put things in perspective/ being too hard on myself' my entire life!

We live and we learn.  Athletes get the opportunity to learn a lot about themselves: as an athlete, and a person.  I'm still living (and Thank God, exercising) therefore, I'm still learning. 

Cutting Corners ~or is it~ Running the Tangents

When I decided to start this blog about exercise and the many mental facets that go along with exercise, I made a list of topics I wanted to write about to get me started.  It is funny how, on a few occasions already, some of the topics I jotted down have come up in conversation with my training buddies.  When that happens, I just go ahead and make that my next blog entry, because the topic is fresh on my mind, and is obviously of interest to my training buddies, and I hope others reading my blog.

Several of my running buddies recently competed in the Derby Mini and/ or the Flying Pig Half Marathon, so ‘race strategy’ was a natural topic of conversation during our recent runs  Two of my running buddies were recapping their recent Derby Mini race, and each stated their time and the distance their GPS watch said they ran.  One runners GPS said she ran 12.9 miles between the start and finish lines, and the other’s GPS said she ran 13.4 miles from line to line.  Some of that difference could be accounted for by different GPS’s accuracy, but not half a mile!  The only other explanations are: the differing amounts the two runners weaved in and out of people on a crowded course, and the way each runner took each and every turn of the course. 

When a race course is certified by the RRCA or USATF, it is measured by the shortest route a person can run and remain on the course legally.  Some running races (especially out-and-back style races) have cones set up in the middle of the road, so you are not able to run freely about the road.  During all triathlon races, and some running races, it is against the rules to cross a double yellow line.   Some races, however, you are given free reign of the road, and are therefore allowed to take each and every turn however you choose.  If you want to run your race 'smart', you'll run the tangents. 

What ' running the tangents' means is: rather than following the curve of a road or your race course, you should aim yourself directly for the next curve that comes into sight and to only run along the curve when you cannot see that next curve until after you’ve gone around the current one.

Check out the picture below:  the person following the orange line is running along the left side of the road. During training, this is appropriate and safe as it will help them avoid getting hit by a car. The person running the red line, however, is running the tangents to the curve. The red line runner will cover the same distance (by road) in less time because he/she won’t have to travel as far (in actual distance).

By looking at this picture, you may notice that the red line isn’t that much shorter than the orange line, but over the full distance of a race, especially one with a lot of turns and curves, it can really add up.  You can shave seconds off of a shorter race or shave minutes off in a longer race.

Some racers may consider 'running the tangents' as 'cutting corners' but, in truth, it is fair to assume that the race distance is measured out assuming racers will 'run the tangents.'  I wanted to include this topic as a blog post because there are many factors that affect a race day performance, and this is just one of them.  We all know how one seemingly unexplainable bad race can mentally mess you up in your future races.  If you've ever been beat by a comparable athlete during a half marathon or marathon, and feel as though you had a great race, you might want to ask them next time how far their GPS said they ran.  Maybe they have figured out how to run the tangents better than you and can give you some tips.  Don't be too hard on your race performance when there could be an easily controllable factor that explains why you might not have placed as high as you were hoping for. 

5K Race Report: Quest for the perfect 5K continues...

You know the feeling the day after a race:  your legs are so freaking sore but you don't even care because you know you gave the race your all and the soreness is just a reminder of the great accomplishment you made the day before. Well, I didn't get to experience that awesome soreness after my 5K this weekend.  In fact, my muscles felt better the day after the race than they did the day before it.  I had a little flare up in my piriformis in the days preceding and the morning of the race, but the day after the race it seemed all better!  It is quite a frustrating feeling to not be the least bit sore the day after a race.  It means that for some reason or another, you did not or were not able to physically push yourself to your limits on race day. 

Bryan Station Defender Classic 5K race report: 

My support crew, braving the nasty weather to cheer me on!  Ernie, me, Tyler, Mom, and Dad. 

The forecast for race morning was cold, rain, and wind.  Not exactly 'getting you pumped to race' weather.  I had already paid for the race and the pancake breakfast afterwords, and I really wanted my parents to meet some of my running buddies who would be competing in or spectating the race, so there was no backing out of this one.  The forecast held true on race morning and I just dealt with it. 

I did an easy pace 1.4 mile warm up before the race.  I didn't use to warm up before 5K races, but recently  learned that warming up is especially important for persons with asthma, and it is a good idea in general to prevent injury and get your body ready to race. 

The start line of the race.

My plan was to (for once) not go out to fast my first mile, and hope to negative split each mile of the race. I took the first mile out very conservatively (7:16 pace).  Typically I run my first mile around 6:45 pace and then pay for it during the second mile. I held a very comfortable pace while dodging puddles of rain water and weaving in and out of kids who went out too fast and were already walking.

There were a few hills during mile 2. The hills weren't very long or steep, and due to the out-and-back nature of the course, whatever you went up, you got to go down, so that was nice.  At one point during mile 2 I had the thought that I should start picking up my pace, but my very next thought was "that might hurt, and I don't feel like hurting quite yet." That attitude earned me a slower (7:39 pace) split for mile 2 (not the negative split I was planning on).  Woops. Although my second mile was slower than my first, I was gaining on the two females in front of me during mile 2.

There were several out and back sections of the course, so it was easy to tell what place I was throughout the race: 3rd female.   Near the beginning of mile 3, I passed the female who was in second place at that time, and enjoyed that for all of about 15 strides.  She caught up with me shortly after I passed her, we exchanged a couple "good jobs" and then she took off to catch the lead female.  I never got close to that woman again, but did continue to gain on the other female in front of me (who happened to be one of my training buddies and good friends).  My plan was to catch and pass my friend in the second half of mile 3.  So, midway of mile 3, when I finally decided I was willing to put forth the hurt necessary to catch my friend, I picked up the pace.  Approximately 30 seconds after I picked up my pace, however, I started to gag. Yes, gag (the kind where your entire body convulses and there's a good chance you're about to puke) it's a common symptom of an asthma episode for me during hard exercise when my asthma isn't under control.  The harder I tried to push myself, the more I gagged.  I was forced to slow my pace and finish the best I could.  Mile 3 split was a 7:43.

I placed 3rd female overall, with a time of 23:00 (7:24 pace) which is 2 seconds slower than my 5K PR.  I'm frustrated.  I know, without a doubt that I am capable of running a sub-22 minute 5K at this time, and if I would have done that this weekend I would have won the race.  I would have loved to have won for the sheer fact that my parents were there.  They have always supported me so much (even driving up from North Carolina at least once a month during my collegiate swimming to cheer for me at meets) and I like doing well for them.  I'm sure they thought 3rd place was great and they are proud of me, but I would have liked to have done better for them. 

I haven't run too many 5K's, and I have yet to 'master' the 5K race distance.  My problem before has always been going out too fast and then bonking during mile two or three.  My problem this weekend was my breathing.  It may seem like that is an 'uncontrollable' factor, but I'm educated enough to know that a person with asthma should not experience symptoms if their asthma is properly managed.  While I did take my inhalers and warm up the morning of the race, I neglected to take allergy medication.  I have also suspected that I need to be on a higher dose of medication during allergy season, but I haven't made the effort to schedule a doctor appointment to make that happen.  Not only is it unsafe for a person with asthma to race or otherwise physically exert themselves without having their asthma under control, I cannot expect to reach my full potential if I cannot breathe! 

Another race, another lesson learned.  I'll succeed in my 'Quest for the perfect 5K' one of thees days!

Creating Motivation

Motivation isn't something you just go out and find, you have to create your own. 

During a conversation today with a (out of shape) co-worker who was explaining to me how lazy, and therefore overweight she has become I had a major realization.  It dawned on me that to the 'outsider' it seems like everything about exercise comes easy to athletes.  To the 'outsider' it appears as though those who are fit posses some strong, innate desire to exercise regularly, as if it's a gene that some humans get and others don't.  The moment I had that realization, I felt the need to inform my co-worker that I struggle with motivating myself to exercise.  I could tell by the look on her face she was completely shocked to hear me say that.  I explained to her that I have figured out a set of motivational tactics that works for me, and I rely on those heavily to keep me doing what I do on a regular basis.  Motivation varies for each individual, and everyone needs to figure out what it is that motivates them. 

I'm looking forward to following a training plan again (starting next week).  Having a race to train for is the best motivational factor for me.  Due to finances, schedule, or other factors, I don't always have a race to train for, however.  It is during those times I must figure out how else to motivate myself to exercise.

For the past eight months, I have not followed a training plan, and I've gone through several rough patches as far as motivation is concerned.  I have only completed two triathlon seasons thus far, but I already see a pattern of 'post-triathlon season blues' forming.  I get such an incredible 'high' from triathlon training and racing, that after the last tri race of the season, my motivation crashes.  While I have had many ebbs in motivation over the past eight months, I managed to keep in pretty good shape heading into my third triathlon season.  Without a race to train for (aka my motivation to exercise) I had to pull from my 'motivational tactics file' a lot this Winter to find the motivation to run. 

Here were my main sources of motivation to run this Winter: 

My dog:  I used my best gal pal, Ruby, as motivation several times this winter.  In November I vowed that I was going to be a major wuss about running in the cold this Winter (after being scarred from so many marathon training runs in the brutal cold last Winter) and  I stuck true to that vow.  That meant not running outside in the mornings with my running buddies.  It's hard for me to get motivated to A) run by myself, and B) run after work.  I know running makes Ruby extremely happy, so I'd muster up the motivation after a long day of work to take her out on a run, just to see that smile on her elongated schnoz.

Happy Ruby, post run. 

Burning Calories: Never until this Winter have I used 'burning calories' as any sort of motivation to exercise.  Running (and biking and swimming) has never been about burning calories for me.  I exercise because it makes me happy, and I know it is healthy.  I set out on several runs this past Winter with the goal just to burn calories. When I am following a training plan, every workout has a purpose and is done with a certain pre-determined goal pace, but since I wasn't  training for anything in particular this Winter, I didn't have that 'focus' to drive my motivation to run.  Although this isn't typically like me, I have to admit, it was a relief to know that if I wasn't happy with the pace of a run, at least I could know that I burned calories and would have 'that much less' weight to carry on my swims/ bikes/ runs in triathlon races this year. 

My Happy Pill/ Stress Relief: Sometimes when I'm feeling unmotivated I just have to remind myself how happy and de-stressed I will be during and after the workout is over.  I have never regretted doing a workout, but many times I have regretted skipping one. Skipping a workout is a 'double whammie':  you don't get that happy high one can gain only from a great workout, and you are left with regret for not having done the workout.



Social Time: There are some close friends of mine that, due to our crazy schedules, the only way we see one another some weeks (or months) is by running together.  We both need to get our run in for the day, so it makes sense to combine our limited time into a 'social run'. (A social run is a run in which the pace is easy enough for the runners to carry on a conversation).  Before I started following a strict training plan a couple years ago, I had no qualmls with doing 'social runs', but over the past couple years I followed a plan in which each of my (3) runs a week had to be very fast paced (no time for social runs).  No one needs motivation to get out and socialize with their best friends, and since I took the past eight months off of that stringent training plan, I was able to motivate myself to do several runs (some 10 miles or more) for the sole purpose of socializing with my buddies. 


A 'social run' I did recently.  10.5 miles for the sole purpose of spending time with some of my running buddies!

I know every one of us is capable of coming up with a different excuse, day after day to not exercise, but you only need to figure out a few good motivators that work for you in order to overcome those excuses.  What are YOUR motivators? 

Personal Records, and beyond..

I went on a bike ride a couple weekends ago with a new cycling buddy I met at the ‘Women’s Ride Day’ on March 18.  When she asked me if I was doing the Half- Marathon coming up in Lexington here’s how the conversation went:

Me: “No, I will never do that race because it is too hilly and I know I can’t PR on it...  You know what local race I do love, though, is the Bluegrass 10,000 because I have always PR’d at that race!” 

New Cycling Buddy: “So let me get this straight: every race you do has to be a PR?”

Me: “Yes, I prefer it that way..It doesn’t always happen that way, but that’s how I prefer it. I realize the day will come when I no longer PR, but I haven’t yet thought through what I’m going to do or how I’m going to handle myself at that point.” 

After a run or bike ride, I often reflect on conversations held during training because in the middle of training it can be difficult to process thoughts (in fact, during a hard run, it can be difficult to even process words).  So, I thought about that conversation after the ride.  It didn’t take me but a few days to think through how I will handle that day when I accept (after several attempts, I am sure) the fact that my body is no longer capable of producing Personal Record performances.   If my life plays out how I currently expect it to, by that time, I’ll probably be more concerned about what my kids are accomplishing than what I am not.  Even then, I expect there to be a part of me that is sad and nostalgic.  I imagine the first thing I will do is find an Age Equivalent Running Results Chart, or this handy online calculator and plug in my numbers to see what my time equates to if I were of ‘prime running age’! 

This will pacify me for some time, and every race report of mine thereafter will include two times: my actual time, and my computed ‘prime age’ time.  Probably no one but myself will care about my computed time, but it will be the one I personally claim.  I predict I will become so familiar (some may call it obsessed) with the conversions that it will get to the point where I will know immediately upon finishing a race, what my converted time is (and will probably report it as that when a running buddy asks me my time at the finish line party). 

What will happen, though, when these ‘converted times’ don’t satisfy me anymore?  Then what?  Quit running?  I hope not!  Find something new within running to focus on? I hope so!   Maybe I’ll become a trail runner (doubtful, I’m too clumsy even at 29 to handle many trails).  Perhaps I’ll give marathon racing an honest effort because I’ll have more slow twitch muscle fibers by then (we’ll see).. My best guess is that I’ll find my focus where my running mentor Ernie found his: in helping and supporting newer runners. 

I am still at a selfish point in my life.  I say this not because I act or speak selfishly, but because at this point in my life I am responsible for no one but myself.  I don’t yet have the responsibility of raising a child or taking care of an elderly parent.  I believe I will be completely capable of taking on such selfless roles in my life, but for now I’m enjoying being selfish while I can.  Currently, every race I participate in is my race; every training run is done at the time of day, and at the speed I want to run.  Life will happen, and before I know it, ‘I’ will be a word seldom used in my vocabulary.  My training schedule and races will be worked around my family’s schedule, and I’ll be too tired to give every training run my very best effort.  My kids will grow up, leaving me with that need to nurture, and my prime running years will be behind me. 

I have always had the heart and mind of a competitor, but I honestly hope the day will come when it no longer matters to me how fast I am; when even the age conversion calculator means nothing to me, and PR’s will be forgotten (or embellished…because if I am still running at 70, I should be entitled to ‘remember’ the past however I choose)!

How will you/ do you handle letting go of Personal Records ?

Training Buddies Know No Age

A couple months ago, I got together with some running buddies for dinner to celebrate a fellow running buddy's baby announcement.  As we all sat around a table at the Mexican restaurant, talking, laughing, and enjoying one another's company to the fullest, one of my running buddies brought up a fact that always has, and always will awe me:  our running group represents a wide age range, but it doesn't at all feel that way.  The most awesome thing about this is the fact that those of us sitting around the table, (and others who were not with us that night) are more than just running buddies, we are  true friends.  Friends who confide in, tease, rely on, teach, and love one another.  Friends who not only exercise together, but also eat, drink, play, and dance together.  We've laughed, and cried, together.  We've seen each other through disappointments in athletic performances and in life, and we've shared utter joy together through accomplishments and memorable experiences.  We respect one another, no matter the age of the individual.  Perhaps it is the fact that (because we take care of our bodies) none of us look our age which allows our minds to be open to the idea that some of our nearest and dearest friends can be 15 years (or more) our senior, or junior.  I doubt that's it, rather, I believe it comes down to respect.  As athletes, we each know the kind of discipline, the amount of time, and the willpower it takes to keep a regular training schedule.  No matter how slow or fast, new or experienced, a fellow athlete is, we recognize and respect the sacrifices and choices they have made to live an active lifestyle.  I believe it is that respect which allows us to overlook age. 

I have never had anything against people older or younger than myself, but I have found that (with the exception of family members, and one former co-worker) any real friend of mine who is at least 10 years my junior or senior is a friend I met through swimming, biking, or running.  My life is immensely enriched by the friends I have made through my exercise endeavors.  I feel as though the bond shared with training buddies is qualitatively different than that of other friendships.  The speed at which you get to know a training buddy is faster than with other friendships in life because of the amount of time you spend side by side with nothing but the road ahead and no other distractions.  You end up talking (about everything) because it makes the miles seem to go by faster.  You talk about life stories, your family,  your dreams (the sleeping, and the goal kinds), your dirty little secretes, your schedule for the week, your job, and even your bodily functions.  Yes, athletes talk to their training buddies about  EVERYTHING- there are no forbidden topics, except for maybe the next big hill coming up on the course.. no one likes to talk about the actual matter at hand while training!  You understand, and are understood by, your training buddies in a way that 'outsiders' never will. Generally, you don't have to explain yourself to a training buddy.  They truly 'get' you. You don't have to explain to a training buddy why you spend all your free time running and biking, while the rest of the world reminds you that you are not getting paid for the sport you spend all your time training for, and asks why you are "wasting your time and energy."  Your training buddies get why you spend so much money on athletic gear, while the rest of the world just thinks you are poor because they have no clue where all your money could have gone, therefore, you must not have had any in the first place.  Your training buddies don't judge you. 

This has been my experience.  I believe (and certainly hope) that running communities all over the globe are like this.  I hope that every athlete who chooses to join an athletic training group has the experience of meeting and befriending individuals of all ages and backgrounds.  My life is better because of my training buddies: young, and ...the young-at-heart.