Mud and Chocolate Half Marathon

Leading up to the Mud and Chocolate Half Marathon I was a little concerned about my back.  After my massage it felt much better and it really felt better when I ran as opposed to walking or sitting around.  Ok, so I was also a little concerned about the weather – the forecast wasn’t all that great.  And I was a more than a little concerned that this was a trail run – our first ever trail experience.

We had a busy night on Saturday.  We went to Tulalip Bingo where we came within one or two daubs of winning the whole thing.  We sat in the non smoking area which was located on the other side of the smoking area.  Also, the bathrooms were in the smoking area too.  WTF Tulalip?  Anyway, after bingo we went to eat at a cajun restaurant called Alligator Soul.  We were meeting other people there at 7pm and we didn’t have reservations.  The place was packed when we arrived at 6:20 so we waited at the bar for the rest of our party.  They arrived about 7:20 and we were seated soon after that.  Dinner was lovely.  I had shrimp creole and Morrie had ribs.  Both were delicious.  Morrie ordered the brownie for dessert but was disappointed in the dryness. We finally arrived home at 11pm.  Thankfully we had prepared our running gear earlier in the day so we could fall right into bed.

Me and Morrie

We got up around 6:45 on Sunday morning and got the coffee going.   Morrie had cooked up some bacon the day before so we had some of that and finalized some of the preparations.  Susan had volunteered to be our pit crew and she came over around 8am.  We printed off the directions and headed out.  It was cold out and I was starting to dread taking my coat and pants off.  We arrived at the Redmond Watershed Preserve at around 8:45 and the parking lot was already full so we had to park on the side of the road.  We got out and got into the bib line to check in.  Race numbers in hand we headed back to the car to assemble ourselves.  We made one last pit stop at the bathrooms then mosied on down to the race start where the organizers were giving the logistics.

After a few minutes of learning about their signage, horse right-of-way, and confidence markers, we all filled into the trail.  They picked this section to begin because it was the widest part of the trail.  Seriously it was about 2 1/2 – 3 feet wide.  Before we knew it the race had begun.  The line thinned out a bit.  Actually it just elongated.  There was a line of single file runners heading down the trail.  We kept to our standard run 8 minutes, walk two for the first loop.  FYI, the loops were 4.25 miles each.  After about 30 minutes I developed a sharp pain from my low back down my right butt cheek.  This is the opposite side that had been bothering me.  I briefly entertained the idea of quitting at the aid station.  We finished the first loop in 1 hour and a few seconds.  Susan cheered us into the aid station then we were off again.

Me on the trail. Loop #1

We ran into a couple horses so we stopped and let them go by.  We had to make a pit stop to pee just before the first big hill.  We walked up the hill and tried to stick to the 8 minutes on, two minutes off but we decided to walk the up hills and save our energy.  We walked a lot more on this loop and had to stop to empty shoes and stretch more.  At one point Morrie developed a cramp in her leg and I wondered if we were going to finish the race. We made it to the aid station and to my surprise, three other women came in behind us.  They didn’t stay long and were off  on their third loop.  We never saw them again.

We headed out on the third and final loop and we managed to run about 5 minutes before we had to walk.  We made another pit stop to pee and this time I wasn’t the only one.  We talked about how Morrie learned, via Youtube, how to properly pee in the woods.  That was one advantage I had at growing up in the country I guess.  We walked up the hill then started running.  At this point our leg cramps and shooting pain were just about too much.  We decided to walk up all the hills regardless of the time.  That lasted until about the first downhill and that’s when we decided to walk the rest of the way.  We had no sense of direction and no sense of how far we had gone or how far we had to go.  It was a long walk.  And because we weren’t running we started to cool down.  My hands were getting cold and Morrie was wearing just a short sleeved shirt.  I had put one short sleeved tech shirt on underneath my long sleeved tech shirt so I was ok there.  Pretty soon we heard someone come up behind us.  The sweepers.  They were picking up the markers and signs.  We chit-chatted for a while then then held back a little.  We got to the turn by the aid station and we stopped to stretch.  We took off and rounded the corner.  Just the two aid station guys were there along with Morrie’s mom.  We painfully jogged along past them and up the little incline to the finish.

With our chocolate finishers medals.

bike ride in the storm and upcoming half marathon

We’ve got a busy weekend coming up.  Our friend Jackie has a birthday and we’ll head up to the Tulalip Casino for some Bingo then to Alligator Soul for some dinner.  Susan and I decided to go for a bike ride, hoping to offset some of those impending calories.

The sky was black when we arrived on Harbor Ave.  We should have known not to ride but we headed out anyway.  It was a littly rainy and a little breezy but not too bad.  The lights from downtown Seattle were pretty clear as the wind had moved any low clouds off the water.  As soon as we rounded the point that’s when it hit.  The wind practically blew me backwards.  Well, that’s what it felt like anyway.  There were a few times when I was blown sideways too.  The nice part was that there were very few people out on the trail.

We headed toward Alki.  I looked out across the Sound toward Bainbridge Island.  The lights there were crystal clear too.  Ferries coming and going were all lit up.  There were logs in the water but the waves were pretty subdued here.  Actually, the water seemed to swell and heave gently with the current.  Seemed pretty inviting except it looked cold and dark.

We regrouped and decided to keep going.  That is, until we rounded the corner onto Beach Drive.  Not only was the wind whipping at us, it was throwing the rain into our faces and the waves crashing into the seawall were spraying us.  We went a block and decided to turn around.  With the wind at our backs, the ride was pretty nice.  Though that didn’t last long.  We rounded the corner and were blasted again on the Elliott Bay side.

We pushed on and eventually made it back to the truck and in the process nearly had to run over a f*cktard in all black running on the trail going from side to side.  Still, I’ll feel pretty good about the seafood gumbo I’ll be enjoying tomorrow evening.  And if the bike ride wasn’t enough to zero out the calories, Sundays Mud and Chocolate half marathon should.

This will be our second Half Marathon but our first trail run.  We are looking forward to it even though the weather is supposed to be miserable.  Guess that’s where the Mud will come in.  Apparently it’ll be three loops at 4.4 miles each.  Susan has offered to be our “crew”.  Of course, there’s a price for her services:  we have to pay her in chocolate.  Shouldn’t be difficult since they’ll be offering it at every aid station.

This will also be my first race with my hydration backpack.  I’ve worn it 2-3 times while running and it’s worked out pretty well except the plastic taste and that it wears on my tech shirts something fierce.

Motivation

*knock-knock-knock* is usually how it begins.  Nic walks into my cube and asks if I’ve read the email that he just sent.  So I go to my email and sure enough, there’s an email.  Sometimes it’s a video of Raul Ibanez fielding a perfectly good ground ball only to throw it into the ground 6 feet in front of him.  Sometimes it’s some stupid video he’s found on some college humor website.  Sometimes it’s a comic strip he thinks I’ll enjoy.  But more often than not it’s got something to do with running.

One link sent me to a clip about some crazy endurance race where people crawl through creek beds on their bellies and run all hours of the day and night.  Sometimes it’s a link to a group he wants me to join or to a photo album showing me how fun it is to collect race numbers. Other times it’s some video of pretty mountain scenery that one might encounter on an ultra marathon.  That was in the beginning.  Now I get sent to photo albums of bloody nipples.  I was just really happy for that sports bra after I viewed that page.  Then along came the awareness of toenail disasters and blister popping.

Ok, so he didn’t send me the video of the blister popping.  He made me come to his cubicle to watch it with him.  It was disgusting and I’ll spare you all (all 5 of you who read this blog) the link.  Morrie and I watched the documentary “Running on the Sun” about the Badwater 135 and part of that video showed several runners popping blisters.  That was mild compared to the video he showed me.  I’ll never be the same again.

Does this guy want me to continue running?  Because if he does, he shouldn’t show me these types of things.  Pretty mountain trails, ok.  Hypodermic needles to gigantic toe blisters, not ok.  He can keep sending the bloody nipple photos though, because those just make me smile.

Back troubles

After the Salty’s Half Marathon I had a little sciatica in my left butt cheek so I decided to go to my chiropractor and have him give me an adjustment.  I went and he gave me a hard time for not having seen him in nearly a year.  Really?  Had it been that long?  Well, in any event he ushered me into the room and we exchanged pleasentrys.  I laid down on his table, face down, and apparently my left leg was shorter than my right.  Crack, adjust, crack some more and I’m out of there.

The next morning I had my Weight Watchers meeting (down 0.2 lbs this week) and I squirm in my chair.  My lower back aches.  I finish the meeting and head home.  Morrie and I get our stuff ready and we head out for a 6 mile run at Seward Park.  The road in the park is slanted to the right and my right knee begins to hurt.  I switch over to the other side of the road where it’s flatter.  That seems to help.

We finish our run (we actually call it a shuffle.  The Shuffle of Death to be exact) and we head home.  I do some tree trimming and yard work.  My back is stiff and a little sore when I bend over to pick up branches.  It sucks getting old.

Sunday was a little worse.   I went to Target with a friend and we walked around Westwood Village.  I was a bit stiff and sore getting in and out of the car and I had sharp pains every so often in my lower abdomen.

Then came Monday morning.  I couldn’t bend over to put my socks on without having a searing pain shoot through my low back.  I had to walk with my hips way forward.  I went to work but instantly regretted the decision and made Morrie come get me and take me home.  I took some Flexeril and went to bed laying on an ice pack.  It felt a little better but then the muscle relaxer wore off and I had pain in my low back and low abdomen.  I laid around and took several Ibuprofen and iced my back several times.  Nothing seemed to be helping.  Morrie came home around 9pm and we debated over whether or not I should take a whole muscle relaxer or just 1/2.  We opted for half since I might need the whole one the next day.

Tuesday was worse yet.  I woke up and tried to get out of bed.  I couldn’t use any of my back muscles to help myself sit up.  I finally stood up and couldn’t put any weight on my left leg without having a shooting pain down my leg.  I hobbled to the bathroom and sitting was just as bad.  I had to hang onto the door handle and the sink and ease myself down.  And the dogs were of little help.

I took more Ibuprofen and iced the heck out of my back.  It did feel good to put the cold pack on it.  I imagine it was pretty inflamed.  I laid around the house all day making sure to get up every once in awhile to move around and limber up.  I took a walk around the block just to get away from the computer (one can only lose so many games of Solitare before it starts to wear on a person).  I went two blocks down and one up and by the time I got home it was time to ice again.   I iced and took Ibuprofen all day.  When Morrie got home we had dinner then we decided to hit the hot tub.  Now *that* really felt good on the back.  I loosened right up and I could stand up without grabbing onto things.  When it came time for bed I laid on an ice pack for good measure.

Wednesday morning I felt pretty good.  The back was a bit stiff and a little tender still but nothing like it was.  I went to work.  We went to get coffee and as we stood around chit-chatting I could feel my back getting tighter and tighter.  I was so distracted by it that I didn’t hear someone saying my name repeatedly (he apparently said it about 5 times).  This is going to be a long day.  I’ve been sitting in my chair for 6 hours and my back is very sore.  I miss my ice packs and I want to lay on the floor of my cube, flat on my back.  I get up for little jaunts to the water fountain or the fax machine but they don’t help much.

 

Running interstate.

So we missed the Trek Triathlon because we were signed up to do the Susan G. Komen Race for the Cure.  But not in our home city of Seattle.  And not even in our state of Washington.  We were taking this business out of state.  Ok, so barely out of state.  Portland, Oregon to be exact.  It’s different.  They won’t let you pump your own gas there.  Anyway, my cousin is a breast cancer survivor and she has a team every year and we were on it.  I had heard it’s a good time for everyone.  Again, someone lied to me.  More on that later.

I knew Seattle had a good showing for their race in June.  It was held the same day as the Furry 5k and though I briefly had aspirations of running both races I stuck to just the Furry 5k. I figured the Portland race would be a quaint affair, maybe 8,000 people.  No.  I had to log onto my fundraising site and then I saw the participant numbers.  OMG!  35,000?  Was that right?  could it be a typo?  A serious mistake?  How could I possibly be around that many people at one time?  Then, after some searching around the internet it got worse.  Apparently Portland has the 2nd or 3rd largest event in the nation and they estimate 46,000 participants.  Oh god.  This is going to be worse than the Danskin.

I tried to put the amount of people out of my mind.  This was a fundraising event and I would spend time with my family.  I tried to make that my focus.  But 46,000 people?  And 22 of those would be my teammates.

the team

Twenty two people at once are hard enough for me to handle.  Maybe if I raise enough money I can buy my way out of it.  Nope, I guess not.

We headed down to Vancouver – we were staying with friends (thanks Carla and Dany) – on Saturday morning.  We made a quick pit stop at the local REI which ended up with me throwing a temper tantrum (hardly my first, or my last) and not buying anything and swearing I would never buy anything there again.  Words I would eat in less than a month.  Well, anyway, we found out that we needed to check in on Sunday morning to get our timing chips and race bibs.  Why they couldn’t put them in with our packets I’ll never know.  We had dinner at carb load central – The Old Spaghetti Factory – and met a childhood friend at a tavern for a beer.  Then off to bed for a 4:30am wake-up.

As it turns out, the wake-up happened around 4:15.  We got up and got our shorts on.  Shirts, hats, long pants and sweatshirts, shoes, too.  We headed out to the nearest Starbucks for coffee and something to hold me over.  We arrived at the shuttle just before 6am.  We checked in with my cousin who had not yet arrived at the mall parking lot.  I told her about having to get our timing chip so we decided it would be best to take the shuttle without them and meet everyone over at the race.

We get to the expo and there are alread a ton of people there.  We check in and get our chips and bibs and get them put on.  Then we try to find our teammates.  It wasn’t all that difficult actually.  My cousin had a sign with our team name on it and it was easy to pick out.  We gathered around and chit chatted for a while.  Our race was about to begin so we shedded our long pants and sweatshirts and handed them over to our friend Dany.  Our plan was to run the 5k then reassemble with our team and walk the 5k together.

Again we are asked to queue up according to our pace times.  There is a large gap between us and the group in front of us at first but it eventually fills up.  And the next thing I know, we are off.  Away we go.  Through the balloon arches and down the street.  Four lanes of road all to us.  We pass an inhaler, broken and strewn on the road.  Hope nobody needs that later.  We go a few blocks then make a right turn.  Then it’s a long, straight stretch for some distance.  And then, what’s this?  Is that a hill-like incline?  Oh, it’s the exit from a bridge that we need to run up.  Yippee!  But it doesn’t last long then we go back down the other side and then another right turn.

The photographer is dead ahead and I try my best to ignore him, as I usually do.  I see a left turn ahead.  This must be the down and back portion as there are already people coming back down it.  I make the turn carefull not to trip over the train tracks.  Finally, I’m at the turn-around.  I guess it must be about a mile to the finish.  Oh how wrong I was.  It was closer to 1 3/4 mile probably.  Morrie was right behind me as we trotted along.  Then, up ahead, the railroad crossing arms started coming down, lights flashing and alarms sounding.  Here comes the Coast Starlight (or was it the Empire Builder) into Portland.  We timed it so we didn’t need to stop.  The train passed and the arms lifted in plenty of time.

I keep thinking the finish line must be getting close, but it isn’t.  I can’t even see it.  There is a group of drummers playing so I figure this must be the last push but where is it?  I’m starting to hear announcers and there are more and more people so yes, this is it!  Oh, the finish line, I can see it!  I start to pour it on and I’m almost to the blue mats when the woman who is running in front of me stops on the mats.  Hello?  Do you think you are the only person in this race?   I nearly run into her but she’s still oblivious which irritates me to no end.  I want to push her over.  But I don’t because this is a fundraiser.

ribbon

Morrie and I immediately head over to the water bottle and banana area.  My goal for the race was to beat my best 5k time by one minute.  I didn’t make it.  I beat it by a mere 27 seconds, but still, a personal best.  We gather up with our teammates and we’ve got about 30 minutes to kill before the walk starts.  By now there are a lot more people here and it’s starting to warm up a bit.  We meander around and meet up with more teammates.  There is some talk about getting into the line for the walk since it starts in 10 minutes.  But nobody moves.

Finally we decide to get in line and when we get over there I can’t believe the amount of people.  The walk starts and they have us diverted down two different streets.  Half turn onto the first one and we head up to the next block.  Oh, and it’s less of a walk as it turns out and more of a shuffle.  There are so many people here that it’s difficult to move.

several of the 50,000 people in my way

I can see how someone could be crushed or stampeded.  We finally make it to the first real turn and omg!  All 4 lanes of the street plus the turn lane are shoulder to shoulder with people!  I decide that this is the perfect time and pace to take photos so I dig the camera out and start snapping.  One team has turtle balloons.  Another team has horse heads.

We make our way to the bridge incline and people are starting to spread out now.  Thankfully.  But it’s still pretty crowded.  We go up the incline and down the other side.  By the time we make it to where the run turned left toward the turn-around they had eliminated that from the route.  Ok by me.  Pretty soon the finish line was near.  A welcome sight let me tell you.  As we cross the finish line, a mere 1 hour 49 minutes after starting, the announcer claims there were 50,000 participants.

What’s a girl to do?

I got on the scale this morning.  152.something pounds.  WTF?  I’m staying within my points and I’m exercising like a woman possessed, why am I not losing weight?  I’m going to try cutting down on the fruit intake.  Yeah, that’s right, fruit is doing me in.  I’m chubby because I like apples.

I’m reading “Shape Up with the Slow Fat Triathlete:  50 Ways to Kick Butt on the Field, in the Pool, or at the Gym–No Matter What Your Size or Shape” by Jayne Williams.  She says that getting your core into shape will help you in your athleticism.  So, as a follower of the Slow Fat Triathlete, I’m checking out the local Pilates place.  I’m going from apple core to my core.

The Slow Fat Triathlete also says to eschew diets.  Well that isn’t good news for Weight Watchers.  But I’m inclined to believe her.  I mean, really, I’m not losing weight and I’m running several times a week with a long bike ride thrown in for good measure.  And I’m hungry.  And I need to cut back on my fruit.  So what’s the point?  Ok, yeah, I’m gaining muscle and that weighs more than fat.  The thing on the front of my belly that flops around when I run isn’t muscle, I can guarantee that.  I really miss pizza.  And Jalisco’s Camarones con macho sauce.  What’s a girl to do?

What’s next?

That was the subject line of an email sent by Susan the day after the Danskin.  What does she mean “what’s next”?  Healing, perhaps.  Resting, maybe.  No, none of that.  She wants us to sign up for the Trek Triathlon scheduled one month away.  Unfortunately, Morrie and I had already committed to running the Susan G. Komen Race for the Cure 5k in Portland that weekend so we wouldn’t be able to do it.  Whew!  But Jackie caved and signed up too.

At some point we did decide to bump things  up a bit and signed up for the Aflac Iron Girl 10k.  Whoohoo!  This was going to be two laps around Green Lake on September 12.  We went to packet pick up the day before and it was 88 degrees.  We picked up our packets, shirts (a lovely v-neck tech shirt in pink) and our Aflac plush duck that screams “Aflac” when you push a button.  There is nothing memorable about the night before the race.  Or maybe I’m blocking it from my memory banks.

Race day comes and we carpool to the lake.  Parking around Green Lake is crappy at best and we wanted to get a good spot.  We found a spot that wasn’t too far from the start.  We piled out of the car and took some photos.

Looking like an underwear model.

We headed over to the start line.  It was going to be a nice day but it was just 7am and was still a little brisk out.  We made our way to the porta-potties and stood in line.  After that we wandered around, listened to the announcer make his announcements, got our photos taken by some professional photog or another.  Pretty soon it was time to line up.  This was the first race where we were asked to line up according to our pace.  We headed toward the back of the line and found the 12:30 pace.  Not far from the end as it turns out.  But the walkers were (supposed to be) behind us.  More announcing.  Apparently one of the contestants of The Biggest Loser, Susie something, was running her first 10k.  And some personal stories were read.  And the national anthem was sung.  And a 5 minute delay.

Oh, now we’re ready!  The “Aflac” was sounded and off we went.  Well, sorta.  We walked for a good while before things thinned out.  Seems some of the walkers thought it appropriate to line up with the 6 minute milers and insisted on walking 3-4 abreast.  Much dodging and going off the path to get around these people but finally I passed most of the walkers and it was fine.  Morrie had to stop off at the first bathroom and I continued on.  I couldn’t bear the thought of having to weave around the walkers again.

Finally, around mile 1 1/2 there was a water station.  I grabbed a cup and gulped my three oz. of water and off I went.  There was a little confusion around the Bathhouse where the second lap of the 10k was diverted to the outside lane.  People were yelling 10k this way and I had to stop to cross over only to realize that they were yelling this at the women who were on their second lap.  On their second lap?  I’d been lapped.  Fine.

I felt pretty good that first lap and into my fourth mile.  I caught up to someone who was walking and said, “C’mon, Iron Girl!”  She started running and we went for quite a while together.  We hit the second water station at mile 4-ish.  (Note to Aflac organizers:  wtf?  How about having two water stations next year?) From mile 4 until about mile 5 I was feeling really good.  My legs were warmed up and nothing was hurting too bad.  Then mile 5 and beyond happened.  I was feeling sluggish and thirsty and suddenly my right leg just below my knee was really hurting.  Well, I’m just stubborn enough to keep running and that’s what I did.  I tried to pour it on coming down the finish chute but it didn’t really amount to much.  I crossed the finish line in 1:17:49.

We grabbed our yogurt parfait (one per person please) and found a patch of lawn to sit down.  We chatted for a while then tried to get up to leave.  Ow.  The muscles had already stiffened up but we managed to get up and get to the car.  More photo ops and then off to home for some well deserved napping.

Finisher's medal

The Danskin, part 2

We planned on everyone meeting at our house to drive down together to Qwest field where we would catch the shuttle to the race start.  This required a 5:15am wake up.  On a Sunday.  Good lord, what have we done?  We managed to crawl out of bed pretty easily and had wisely packed our gear the night before so all we really needed to do was get dressed, walk the dog, and have some breakfast.  It was cool out which had me worried since I absolutely hate being cold.  All I could think about was how cold the water was going to be and I wasn’t really looking forward to this adventure.

Our friends showed up and we exchanged story’s about how well we did or didn’t sleep the night before and how we weren’t looking forward to the day ahead of us and let’s just do this thing.  We piled into the vehicle and headed out for the shuttle.  There was a bit of confusion about parking a week before the event.  Seems the Mariner’s had a big series that weekend against the (damn) Yankees and that parking garage was no longer available to Danskin participants.  I bet if they had bothered to check, the garage wasn’t available all along since the baseball schedules come out well in advance.  Oh well.

We parked at Qwest field and wandered over to the buses.  I really wasn’t looking forward to this and had some long conversations in my head about what a dumbass I was for signing up.  Is it too late to back out now, I wondered.  Of course, I’d never let myself back out, mostly because of pride.  That’s the same thing that kept me from crying my way out of Navy boot camp.  I had always been a bit of a jock in school so not passing the physical stuff didn’t seem feasible.  So I endured and went on to spend 4 torturous years in the Navy.  And I was destined to spend 2 1/2 torturous hours in, on and around Lake Washington today.  The bus came and we all loaded onto it.  Remember when we could fit 3 of us in one seat?  Those days are long gone.  These days two of us can just fit.  And I think I may have gotten some kidney damage from all the jostling.  Seriously, do we care about our school aged children?

Waiting for the shuttle. See how thrilled I am to be there?

The bus ride is pretty quick though there is a moment of panic when the bus turns right, away from the race start, and proceeds to drive about 2 miles down the road.  All of us who know where the event is being held are giving nervous glances at each other.  Someone asks, “Does the driver know where he’s going?”  Shoulders shrug and we continue driving away from the event.  Then, to our relief, the driver turns and wends his way back.  Weird route but we still made it.

We step off the bus and that’s when Susan decides to look in her bag for her timing chip and swim cap.  Guess what?  It’s not there….it’s at her house.  It’s either back onto the shuttle to the truck then home to get it, taking another hour, and potentially missing her start time, or we find out if they have spare chips and caps.  Hey, guess what?  Apparently she’s not the first one to do this so they are prepared to offer her another swim cap and timing chip, for a fee.  Whew!  At least she doesn’t have to go back to get hers.

We go to the transition area and drop our stuff off and I go with Susan to the swim start area to purchase her new timing chip.  We return to the transition area and we start to set up.  I lay out my towel first and put my running shoes and hat on it.  Then the bike shoes, shorts, and shirt with bib pinned to it.  Once everything is set up we see that we have time to orient ourselves to the beginning and end of the various events.  And most importantly we queue up for the porta-potties.

After we find all the entrances and exits of the different legs, and after being yelled at by a few unhelpful volunteers, we go back to the transition area to prepare.  We remove our sweat pants and shirts.    OMG!  Did I mention it’s cool out?  And even cooler with few clothes on?  Time for a few more snacks then we head off to the swim start area.  Oh god, I’m really dreading this part.  All I can think of is that first plunge into cold Lake Washington and how that’s going to feel on the small of my back.  I don’t wanna do this part.  Don’t make me do this part.  Also, I’m irritated because we are standing on asphalt with loose gravel on it and it hurts my feet.  We chat with one another amongst the sea of purple swim caps.  And slowly we inch our way to the front.

We get to a bottleneck where they let a wave of 100 in at a time.  Oh crap.  Here we go.  I want to cry.  Only one group ahead of us and there is a cheerleader on the dock next to them telling them to have fun and you can do it and all I can think of is shut the hell up, biotch.  Then the cheerleader counts them down – 10, 9, 8…..3, 2, 1!  Cheering from the crowd behind us and splashing in front of us.  And now it’s my turn.

We walk up to the water and step into Lake Washington.  Ok.  It’s not quite as bad as I expected.  But it’s not bathwater so I’m still disappointed.  We walk in up to our knees-ish.  Some women are up to their waist which is something I wouldn’t be able to do.  Knees are just fine for now, thanks.  I only have to stand here waiting for the next 3 minutes.  Normally that would seem like a long time but when you are dreading the very thing you will begin in that time, it seems like those minutes fly by. The cheerleader is saying something to us and then 10, 9, 8…..3, 2 1!  Cheering from the crowd behind us and splashing in front.  With a resigned groan I fall into the water.  Yeah, it’s cool and I gasp a little.  And again.  And again.  But I’m swimming.  And I’m bumping into people.  And I’m gasping.  I think I had about 85 panic attacks before I reached the first buoy.

But the first buoy was reached.  That second leg was the longest and facing into the sun.  Which was fine because my goggles had fogged up and I couldn’t see a damn thing anyway.  Ok, so more bumping into people and the periodic comment from a swim angel, “are you ok?” and “you’re gonna want to straighten out” and pretty soon I was near the second buoy.  Yay.  With all the zig-zagging that I did I am pretty sure I swam closer to a mile than just 1/2 mile.  Anyway, we started to thin out around the second buoy but by this time I didn’t have it in me to do the crawl.  So I just stuck with the side stroke and the back stroke to take me to the finish.  Finally, I can see through fogged goggles, the finish line!  I crawl out of the water and nearly tip over.  My legs are like rubber.  And what’s tickling my arm?  I reach and grab onto some water plant and throw it off me as I stumble up the ramp.  Oh thank god it’s over.

I trot over to the transition area where I find Susan getting into her bike gear.  “Did you see Morrie?” I ask, trying to gauge how far ahead of me she is.  I can’t remember what the answer was but I dry off as much as I can, pull on my shirt and shorts and sit down to put my socks and shoes on.  Susan and I chit chat about rubber legs all the while then I don my helmet and unrack my bike and bid adieu.

I pedal along Lake Washington Blvd.  Passing some folks, and being passed by others.  Biking is my favorite leg of the Danskin.  I’m not fast – I’m on a Trek Hybrid for crying out loud – but unlike running, I can take a break from pedaling and still make forward progress.  Try not moving your legs on a run and see how far you get.  On the I-90 bridge someone had taken a spill and medics were attending to her.  How does someone crash on a clear and straight path?  Ok, yeah, I’ve fallen off my bike for no apparent reason so I know it can happen but I just don’t understand how.  I kept looking at the women coming toward me to see if I could find Morrie.  I was happy that I didn’t see her right away…that meant I could still catch her.  But seriously, where the hell is the turn-around?  I kept thinking it was right around this corner or just past this tunnel or just over this hill.  It was none of these places.  I finally saw Morrie and shouted out to her.  She was humping up a hill but still found something inside that could muster up a wave.  Ha!  I wasn’t that far behind her and maybe, depending on where the hell the turn-around is, I might be able to catch her.  There were about 3-4 people in the median between the express lanes of I-90 and the regular, West bound lanes, cheering us on.  How did they get there?  Oh, great distraction.  I didn’t even notice that the turn-around was near.  Only 6 more miles to go!

The second 6 miles went by much faster than the first 6 miles.  Maybe because I definitely knew where the end was.  And the end was my goal.  I make it back to the bridge and the woman who crashed has on oxygen and she’s holding her arm.  Medics are with her and I speed past knowing in an instant I could be on the ground holding my arm.  Or my leg or my bloody face.  I get a burst of energy when I get off I-90 and back onto Lake Washington Blvd.  Except there are women who behave like this is just a Sunday stroll along the lake.  Hello?  Single file, have you heard of it?  Finally I bust past them and head back into the transition area.  Morrie is there.

“Oh, I was just about to head out for the run but I’ll wait for you”.  Aww, that’s sweet.  I rack my bike, remove my helmet and bike shoes and swap them out for running shoes.  I gobble a caffeine bean, grab my hat and we are off.  As we trot over to the run start my legs are so tired and wobbly.  Just a few yards from the start is the first water station.  I managed to drink most of the bottle on my bike but want to hydrate as much as I can so I grab a cup and drink.  We head out.  We joke and talk and laugh.  It’s turned out to be a rather warm day and I catch myself thinking a nice plunge into Lake Washington sounds good right about now.  ?  Everyone along the route is encouraging.  There’s a guy with a cowbell, some drummers and quite a few spectators.  Even fellow Danskinners are shouting out encouragement.  Getting down toward the end of the 5k I tell Morrie that as soon as we get into that final chute I’m pouring it on.  That’s fine, she says, then says she doesn’t have it in her so I should go for it.  We hit the chute and she’s about 1 – 2 strides ahead of me and I put the pedal to the metal and go.  As soon as I get even with Morrie, she does a sideways glance then pours it on.  Damn her!  We cross the finish line, me just a fraction of a second behind Morrie.  We would later learn that our overall time was exactly the same.

We find Jackie at the finish and wait for Susan who’s only a few minutes behind us.  She pushes through the finish line and we all gather in a post-race daze.  We mozy over to the food tent and gather up  bananas, bagels and peanut butter, pop-tarts and chips.  And water.  We gnosh a bit then decide to go gather up our stuff so we can go home and nap.  We get our stuff from the transition area and Morrie and I stay with it while Susan and Jackie take the shuttle back to get the truck.  Morrie and I do some stretching and some massage to get the lactic acid out of our legs while we wait.  And wait.  A few trips to the porta-potties and more waiting.  Then they show up.  We load the bikes up and off we go.

Morrie and I waiting for our ride

We take the bikes back to our house and make arrangements to go to dinner.  I can’t remember if we took a nap or not.  I don’t really remember much.  I remember feeling pretty good.  A little tired, but still good.  I’m pretty sure a shower was had.

My goal for this race was to beat my 2005 times, which I did.  By about 6 minutes.  My final total time was 2:14:30.  And I’m already signed up for next year so I’m going to shoot for a sub-2:00:00.

Fatty 3 – Ramblings

This is Fatty 3 here.  Yes, I am the one that is neither maintaining or losing weight.  I am actually gaining weight.  I admire Fatty 1 for her ability to keep at it.  Even when she isn’t on an official eating program, she still manages to maintain her weight.  Fatty 22, may not blog or go on any “official” eating plans, but she is exercising and manages to maintain her weight at a reasonable level very well.  These two are the examples to follow.  I, on the other hand, am the example of how not to lead your life.

I have this belief that we each have our individual basic issues to resolve/deal with in life.  My personal belief system is that I chose this life and my “issues” or “life/karmic lessons” prior to inhabiting this body and that those will always be the core of who I am and what I need to deal with in this lifetime.  On the positive side, I believe that I am intelligent enough to have a pretty damn good sense of humor.  I have empathy for creatures on this earth that are non-human, and I can appreciate beauty and a weed free lawn.  On the negative side, I have addiction issues that range from food (which becomes obvious when you see my pictures on this website) to pull tabs to “reality” TV.  I have battled all my life with depression and have made several feeble attempts at suicide.  As I have gotten older, I have become an isolationist, pessimistic, misanthropic, crank who believes the younger generation has no sense of work ethic and an inability to understand why they can’t drive and text message at the same time (don’t get me started on Twitter and Iphone). 

My question is, when is it time to give up trying to leap the Grand Canyon on your motorcycle?  When you die trying, or when you’ve made 487 attempts and failed?  And if you do quit, then what?  What does quitting mean?  Does it mean quitting and living your life unsatisfied?  Or does it mean, not living life?

What if this life is just paying off the karmic debt that was incurred in previous lifetimes?  That sucks.  Here I am dealing with being ripped off by the general contractor who I hired to remodel my bathroom because I ripped off the guy who I hired in a previous life to build my tomb?  It’s like punishing my dog today for chasing the cat last month.

So, what’s your point you ask.  My point is….when does one say Uncle?  When do you stop trying to lose weight even though you know it will impact your life in so many physical and psychological ways?  When do you stop trying and failing, or worse yet, trying, succeeding and then gaining the weight back?  When do you realize that they just don’t make a size 20 petite?

My cats love me when I am home all day eating.  They don’t mind the crumbs in the bed.  Maybe it’s enough that I make my cats happy……?

Fatty 22 – Training for the Danskin – My First 5K

I was excited about my first 5k. Not being one for lofty inspirations, my goal was simple: finish. I had been trying to work up to 3.1 miles for the last few weeks and thank goodness I did because my legs would have been inoperable otherwise.

The race was the UW Bothell 5k, put on by students in some sort of Program Management class. The entry fee goes to the scholarship fund for UW Bothell students. Overall, the event was organized well, except someone cruelly put a hill in the first 1/2 mile and again in the last 1/2 mile. That’s just mean. These students will make great CEO’s.

We showed up with plenty of time to check in and get our race numbers and our goody bag. Mine had a razor in it (which I’ll probably never use) as well as energy bars and a transfer guide to UW Bothell. We took our bounty back to the car, which was parked in the parking garage, just in time to watch someone enter the low garage opening with their bike on the roof of their car. Oops! The sign indicating the low clearance was knocked down. The bike was probably a little worse for wear too but I didn’t get a good look at it.

Just before the race started they forewarned us that there were going to be two hills. They forgot to mention that the hills were huge. Jerks. There was an old man, say around late 70’s – early 80’s, who ran past us at the start. Then we passed him, but only after he started walking. Then he would pass us again. Then we would pass him. And so it went until somewhere around mile 2 where we passed him for good. We made the final course turnaround point and headed back toward the final hill. As we rounded the corner, there was the old man. Dammit! How was it that he was right on our tails?

Note the belly coming out from under the shirt. Also, my arch nemesis is in the background.

As I rounded the corner before the final hill I was determined not to walk – even though I really wanted to. So I charged up the hill. Ok, I didn’t actually charge up it. As a matter of fact, some of the people who were walking were going as fast as I was. Anyway, I didn’t see the finish line anywhere in sight and that was really disappointing. How much further was I going to have to pretend to run? Though if I had thought about it, how mean would it be to put the finish line halfway up a hill?

Finally, I crest the hill where there is a short flat area. Still no finish line. What the hell? So down the hill I go and I figure the end of the race is near because they are letting cars onto the course. Hello? Safety Officer? Continuing down the hill and turning to the right I see the entrance to the chute to the finish line. Glory be! I’m feeling pretty good at this point so I take longer strides. The crowd, all 20 of them, are clapping. Chest out and heaving I cross the finish line of my first 5k: 37 minutes and 49 seconds.