How it became the end of September without so much as a photo posted from our August trip to Seaside, I don't know. The beach was hot, sunny, and beautiful, the house perfectly located, and the company incredible. We dug, ran, swam, splashed, jumped, ate, lounged, played, and relaxed.
After arriving home and getting back into
all-things-school again, Hunter decided it really was not for him, and
it got more difficult (for me) every day. The turning point came when I
was squatting by his classroom door consoling and trying to convince him
to go in, balancing on my toes and nursing a hungry baby, and being
interrupted by the assistant principal who asked if she could help take
him in his classroom. Um, no? I was a little confused until I realized
that she did not want me nursing there. She was lucky my mind was
attending to more important things and that her boss called to apologize
to me later. We are back to full-time unschooling, without the
curriculum. Except not by my choice. We have never let anyone cry it out
around here, and beginning school was not the time to break that rule.
So. Not much time for mommy to get training plans and blog writing done.
Then there's that pesky housework and cooking gig, which I honestly
don't mind so much.
Last we talked, I had been to the
pain clinic with all the other senior citizens to see what could be done
with my back. After our vacay I went in for a little steroid injection
in the L5-S1 facet joint. It was guided by x-ray, and I have a great
picture of just how awful it looks compared to the left side; it
garnered comments from the anesthesiologist about how we knew this was
indeed the right spot. The numbing meds injected just prior to the
steroid took my pain completely away immediately, to my great relief.
Too bad the steroid didn't completely take care of it long term...
I had so much less pain, I had been riding 45 minutes on the trainer
like 4 days a week, swimming twice a month, AND I ran 2 miles in 15 mins
(no, really!) one day, I decided that I should partake in the local
sprint triathlon. This was the only race I did last year, and the last
race I did 2 years ago. It has been warm enough that of course no
wetsuits were allowed, so without my life-saving neoprene, I decided to
start very wide with the first timers. I panic especially bad when
people whack me in the head, and avoiding them surely saved me a few
attacks. Still, I can barely swim to save my life. It is hard to believe
that these actual same arms have swum decent Ironmans (even though once
I got a "wow, you have so much room for improvement in the swim!" after
an especially good race) and lived to bear weight on aerobars for many
hours after. My Garmin somehow measured my swim at about 200 yards
instead of 500, so it tells me my 100 yard rate is over 4 minutes, which
makes me feel soooo much better about myself.
the longest 500 yards ever, I stood up all woozy, started to run, then
remembered I better save my hip impact for the actual run, and walked up
to T1. When you race once a year, you forget how to put on a helmet and
lap your Garmin, so T1 took a while. And mounting a bike with a hip
that doesn't really go that direction? I hadn't practiced that. For the
15 mile bike ride, I tested out a position I hadn't seen since April:
aero. It didn't hurt at the time, but my hip and back told me all about
it later. I rode with my powertap for the first time ever, and hmmmm. At
least it was a distraction from my speed, which, thanks to Strava, I
know was a bit slower than previous years. To my relief? dispair? my
front tire was completely flat once I got home and started unpacking
the car. When did that happen? Maybe I can go faster...
I got to the run. My plan was to enjoy it all, since I didn't expect to
be able to complete this distance a few months ago, much less run it
all. But I started slowly, with heavy legs, achy hips, and tall grass to
run through. Drew gave me the gap on 2nd place as I started, and I
figured there was no way I would be catching any girls. First place was
waaaay ahead after the turnaround, and 2nd was wearing running shorts, a
tank top, and a headband, which could only mean one thing: relay.
Shannon was next behind me, and after some math I realized I should be
able to keep her there, though she did make me speed up a bit. I
negative split the run and managed a 7:50something pace, despite my hip
and back now yelling at me.
I finished a distant 2nd
female, at a speed-- in all 3 disciplines-- slower than my old Ironman
pace. But who's counting? (not me. ok, me.)
happy 10 years to my good ole Quintana Roo, and happy 20 years of
triathlon to me! It has been my thing for more than half my life, and I
wouldn't change that fact, even for a healthy set of joints.
I'm now going to focus on my three coaching clients who have Ironman Louisville in 10 days! Eek! I'm excited.#livingvicariously