PRs and validation

Let me start with the most important news here lately. My husband is the proud owner of a new half Ironman PR and the current household record holder. Yep, he beat my old PR by a minute with his 4:48 in Augusta. Damn him. I mean, congrats, sweetie! If he hadn't taken so well to swimming with his massive paddle-like hands and Michael Phelps-like physique, I might still have the title of faster half Ironmaner. I'm so jealous of his super fast swimming on 5000m/week, it's ridiculous. Oh, haha. Did I say jealous? I meant proud. After all, I am mostly responsible for making him correct that stroke.

All of my PRs are getting pretty old these days, so it's really high time I earned some new ones. I guess you really need to race to do that. But you see I'm in no PR shape these days. Apparently I just tried too hard back in the day (just kidding) and those times seem unreachable right now. I know I didn't always shy away from races when I wasn't confident in a PR, or even a decent race, so why do I now? What, am I scared of people finding out how slow I am via athlinks? I put it all out there in this blog, so I must not be too shy about it. Really, I'm just not wanting to disappoint myself or confirm what I'm afraid of: I'm slow.

Everybody needs a little external validation now and then. Some need it at any cost. I read the most fascinating article in the New Yorker (here) about this guy, Kip Litton. It seems that he has not only cheated in dozens of marathons by somehow cutting the course (and wearing different outfits in the start and finish pics-- he really pays attention to details), but he has also created his own race, race website, fake runners, and athlinks profiles for those fake runners! If that doesn't scream sociopathy I don't know what does. 

But maybe this deep need for validation from other athletes is more common than we think. Just this week while traveling I struck up a conversation with a fellow traveler about Ironman and triathlons. He gave me lots of his times and stats, told me his impressive marathon PR, bike split averages, and that he'd walked onto the basketball team at a big D1 school. He even told me his kids' 5k times. A few things struck me as odd, like how short he was for a basketball player, how he claimed to be a really great runner but prided himself on not drinking or eating anything for his 30 mile training runs. My bullshit detector started going off. His triathlon times weren't all that impressive, and you'd think if you're going to make up times, you'd make them really good, right? And these days, who hasn't heard of athlinks and online race results? So like any doubter, I looked him up. His Ironman times suddenly became 90 minutes slower, and he must've meant his PR of 2:40 was for one of those "mini" marathons. I then felt really bad for a guy that he had to try to impress me with achievements. But why?

Of course, you could accuse me of making up my less than stellar 5k PR. With all the data on the internet for every race that I might've done in the last dozen years, why can my best 5k not be found? I've searched for that 2003 Gibson Guitar 5k result everywhere (does a PR still count if it's in the same decade?). I learned that over the years I'd given myself 4 seconds when I found my training log from 2003 recently. "Gibson Guitar 5k, 19:11, 2nd OAF." Wait what? I've had 19:07 in my head for years! Doesn't that just sound sooo much slower? 

Not having an "official" recording of that race is disappointing for my athlinks 5k stats, but I'm somewhat consoled by the fact that my horrendous marathon about a year and a half ago is also strangely missing. I'm not even listed in the results. It's like it was just all a bad dream. 

So my lack of a real 5k PR on athlinks means it's time for a new one, right? Or maybe I'll just make something up. 


 

While Jeremy was off PRing, we visited the cousins. Jackson: "It's a wrestling match! Hunter is winning!" :)

Half of a Year

What a half-year it has been! Overall quite amazing, with such a newness about everything. Of course it has been hard at times, and quite an adjustment, but pretty awesome nonetheless. Just six months ago we were eagerly awaiting this little bundle of baby, and now here he is growing so fast!

Just in the past three weeks we've seen some big changes. Hunter has a tooth and a half! We gave him his first (somewhat) solid food -- mashed butterbeans. He wasn't overly impressed. He's had small samples of a couple of other veggies since then -- and a few pieces of paper sneaked in there somehow. So I continue to be his sole source of nutrition; I am now breastfeeding a growing 20 pounds (and no frozen breast milk in a bottle for him - no thank you!). He had been sitting right on the 95th percentile line in weight and holding well over it in height until his 5 month weigh in that showed slower weight gain, and this month when he only grew taller by a quarter inch, but he still only slipped on the chart a little. I have to be thankful for that; I dreamed that he was already 6 feet tall and I couldn't carry him in the Bjorn anymore.

He wants to be going all the time now. There will be no sitting in the jumper seat, walker, or staycation (exersaucer, whatever, I keep forgetting the name of it) long enough for me to get lunch, or heaven forbid, use the bathroom. If we hold him standing those little feet start going, supporting that weight, so he's essentially walking with help now. If he could have it his way, and he lets us know his way, he would already be walking by himself -- running really -- around the house and outside and on the mountain trails. I love that he's so excited to learn about the world and to go out and do things.

Baby laughter is the best sound in the world, and we get to hear lots of it. I think I'm pulling ahead for funniest right now. But of course I'm also head of the complaints department. Jeremy is head of transportation. Hunter is so interested in Daddy now, that he tries to get his attention when he is not looking. They get to hang out in the early mornings when I run, and what's a better way to wake up than a cooing, smiling baby?

Last week we had a visit from Nana and Granddaddy, my parents. They brought new toys and taught Hunter new games and songs, and he had a blast. When he woke up from his nap after they had left to go home, he looked all over for them immediately. The days were so much more exciting with them here, and we sure miss them (and their delicious food and dishwashing skills).

Hunter gets more and more fun every day, and as much as I loved him the day he was born, I love him more every day. How could you not smile seeing this face?

Just a little Saturday morning workout

I can't call myself a prompt person, but I've had too many nightmares about being late to races to let myself procrastinate on race mornings. Hunter, on the other hand, seems to have zero sense of urgency when it comes to my racing (although when it comes to eating it's quite a different story). So after a week of waking up before 5am, he decided to sleep in on Saturday morning. I only have one rule (HIMYM fans), and that is never wake a sleeping baby. So we left for our 45 minute drive around 6, when lazy-pants finally decided to roll out of bed. The race start was scheduled for 7:30, so I already knew there would be little chance for warm up.

Nobody in the desert thinks about things like weather forecasts, unless they just want to calm their fears about the wind (which is always worse than predicted). The sun is pretty predictable: it will be out. So it was somewhat of a surprise to me that it rained the whole drive over. And here's the short report: it kept raining. I realized a few months ago how accustomed I am to perpetual sunshine when I told my sister that it rained and rained and rained -- for like 30 minutes straight! Apparently that is not a lot. Well the race day rain was a lot, so much that the second half of the bike course was too flooded to ride on. It is either the fact that the soil doesn't absorb any water or the road builders don't fully understand the physics of road water drainage, I don't know, but flooding is a big issue out here. The result of this was the bike course being cut in half -- hooray! We also had a 20 minute delay, which I could've used to nurse, or even warm up, had I been forewarned. Instead, my warm up had consisted of running from the car to transition and back many times to get all the equipment I kept forgetting. What a total newbie. Hunter was too busy learning to drive the car to nurse; he was so obviously annoyed that I tried to take him away from the fun!

So I stood at the prerace meeting chatting with my friend Dave about how we are better runners after the bike, which is a much underutilized skill in the reverse races. I somehow managed to be at the starting line on time despite a couple more forgotten items. Starting out slow is my thing, especially when I don't warm up, but I wasn't expecting a woman to still be ahead of me half a mile in. And then she started pulling away. It was surprisingly easy to talk myself out of hanging with her, and next thing I knew she was 100 yards ahead. So I splashed through the ankle deep water all by my lonesome, thinking of things like how I need a dress for an upcoming wedding, my parents' visit and what mom would fix us for supper, you know, the usual race thoughts. Then I came upon the 2k mark, such a standard first marker, and of course I had to utilize all brain power to calculate what 8:45 would be in minutes per mile. It took me a while, since, although I love my numbers, the most basic equations escape me while running. Just as I was figuring out my pace, we turned a corner into the wind and driving rain, which pelted my face despite turning my visored head downward. Taking my eyes off her did little for my motivation, and she pulled further ahead. There was nobody near me to block the wind or chase, but I did manage to pick up a little speed and I do believe I negative split the 8k. I have no proof since I had to forgo the garmin. Rain and my finicky bezel don't mix.

The rain continued on the bike, and I admit I was a little scared of how slick the road was. My racing flats were light on the traction, and I kept picturing skidding out on the bike. I've gotten wimpy in rain! The first half was a nice downhill with a tailwind, so I was preparing myself for the return trip. As soon as I hit the turnaround my speed dropped by 10mph and my watts increased. I did decide to take the power tap along, and luckily it is waterproof. While I'm not as close to 4W/kg as I'd like, but it wasn't as bad as I half expected. I never caught the girl ahead of me, and being able to see miles up the road, I could tell there wasn't much chance. My speed kept dropping a little bit lower every few miles, and it took me 10 minutes longer to do the back half of the 14 mile course than the front. Ouch.

While the temperature wasn't super cold, the rain had a chill. I was a little stiff coming off the bike but the pool water was nice and warm. I immediately passed a man who jumped in just before me and get this, did flip turns on every other wall the whole way. Never before have I flipped in a race, probably due to panic. My arms literally got a warm feeling and not long after somebody attached that darn vice grip to them and I drug lead weights around for 400yds. The last few hundred, when breathing toward the end wall, I could see my sweet husband holding my precious sleeping baby near the finish. It was so cute; it made me really happy.

So I ended up 2nd female but of course was a bit disappointed in my effort. There are just so many new things to think about when planning for and racing now, that I forgot to pack my motivation. Adding to that was the rain-- I mean, rain? This was the wettest triathlon I've probably ever done, and it took place in the desert.

I'll give this racing thing one more shot this fall, but I'll try to leave complacency at home.

 

Solid grayness. Where's my blue sky?

Power in the Legs

Back in Memphis, we did many a workout up and down good ole Watkins Street, in good ole shady North Memphis. As a side note, I guess it kind of helped your average speed when you got caught in the neighborhoods on the way home at dusk. Anyway, one of my favorites was the Power in Leg drills (pronounced powwah in leg). The name is a tribute to some of our German riding buddies. Right at 20 minutes into the ride, we'd hit Watkins, and it was on. We clicked up to our hardest gear, and smashed up and down the rollers. I miss that.

Now that I have the power tap up and running, I sure wish I'd had it back when I was racing (really racing, not what I pretend to do now). It's just fun. I haven't gotten obsessed with it yet, like in the sense that I'm disappointed if I don't hit certain numbers. For one thing, the first 5 or so rides I did with it in my jersey pocket, since we hadn't attached it to my bike yet. I kept pulling it out on hills or between those light posts where I always sprint. 

The best part of it so far is that I finally get some credit for the slow grinding uphills and the wind! All I used to see was that I was going 12 mph. Now I see that actually I'm working pretty darn hard. Validation!

I feel pretty good about myself until I get home and see that I'm not really that good after all. Those Tour de France riders -- yeah I know they're the top professionals in the sport, but whatever -- they can produce around 7 watts per kilogram during some of those 30 minute mountaintop climb finishes. The sportsscientists don't believe this is physiologically possible without a little, uh, help, though (see here). But they do believe a decent, trained cyclist should be capable of 40 mins at 4W/kg. I'm pretty sure I'm not capable of that, but I'm going to keep that number in my head: 203W. Maybe in the past I usetocould maintain that, but the legs need some retraining.

Maybe it started in my grad school days, my excitement over numbers. Or I guess I was always a number person. Mom says she used to keep me occupied at church suppers when I was about 4 by giving me math problems on the paper tablecloth. I like the objectiveness of it, which makes me wonder why I got my bachelor's in psychology with all of the paper writing it involved. Anyway, I'm giddy over all the data I come home with after each ride. It records every second, so after  just an hour ride I have 3600 "records, " which can show me my best average power over many time increments. Having taught so so many weight loss classes in my life, I also can't help but notice my energy expenditure. It tells me the kJ that I've used during the entire ride, and by assuming a very awesome 25% efficiency (Lance is around 23%, so I'm being very conservative on kcal expenditure), I can calculate calories burned.

All this data is just sitting on the computer waiting to be pored over, since naptime is one of the few times I have to devote to this. And naps can't be predicted or projected in this house! I also feel like I need a bit more data to analyze before I start making specific workouts for myself. I'm racing again on Saturday, and I'm thinking of riding the PowerTap wheel. It's a bit heavier, but the course should be mostly flat. Any votes?

Update: In my last post, I commented that I'd yet to see Jeremy's coyote. The very next morning on my run, just before the sun came over the mountain, a coyote nonchalantly crossed the somewhat busy road between me and a man walking a few dozen yards in front of me. Maybe not so coincidentally, I had seen a roadrunner in the vicinity just before.

 Now for the required fat baby picture. Speaking of power in legs, these fat thighs are getting strong enough to hold up 19+ pounds of baby for short intervals. He'd be able to escape the Bumbo seat if they weren't so chunky that they get stuck in the little slots. It takes some work getting him in and out.

Last of the Season

Somebody hit fast forward in the Harwood household around the beginning of July. Time has flown unbelievably fast. It's funny that some moments and hours drag by while overall the weeks fly by. I guess that's what happens when you watch a baby get bigger and fatter every day while learning new tricks.

Since July 4th we have taken three trips: one to Memphis, then to Vail for a week, and last week was spent in Little Rock. We're counting down the days 'til we get to move back to a real city (some of us more literally than others), and being in Little Rock reminded us again of what we are missing. Specifically, family, restaurants, Target, people who don't drive massive trucks, bodies of water like in actual rivers, tall trees, green things -- just to name a few. 

I've realized this is my last triathlon season in New Mexico, and while I'll miss a few things, there are some things I won't miss about training and racing around here: the wind, the dust storms, the completely wrong order of triathlons, the lack of races to choose from, the lack of oxygen to breathe, the lack of moisture in my mouth while riding leading to the inability of my tongue to work, the lack of people to train with or who know what a triathlon is, the darn gravel all over the roads, the endless chip seal, and "puncture weed." But really I know I'll be sentimental when we do move; this was the first home to Hunter, and the first place Jeremy and I lived together for longer than a few months. I miss the water, but love that I have only been caught on my bike in the rain twice in two years, and only a couple times have I skipped an outdoor ride because of it. The mountains are right out our back door, and to get to the top and some excellent riding and trail running, it's less than a 30 minute drive. The scenery is just gorgeous, and the sky is really actually blue. I get to see things like roadrunners, jackrabbits, and rattlesnakes regularly while riding and running (still looking for Jeremy's coyote), and we have some fantastic Mexican food for post workout recovery.

My schedule didn't allow me to do every local-ish race I wanted to do this year, but I think I'll round out the season with a couple of military base races. I have raced both before, and both are backward-- run first, swim last -- but you can't win 'em all. I mean, I'd like to win, of course.

At the end of August, even around here where it stays warm for a long time, I start thinking about fall and running in the cool weather. But also I think about how I'll miss my new found friend, the outdoor rec center pool, when they bubble it for the winter. It's so nice to need sunscreen while swimming a workout. Backstroke gets neglected due to the bright sun, and my clear lensed goggles have been fogging an extraordinary amount, but when I can see around me, the scenery, again, is fantastic. To one side are the mountains, and to the other is a row of palm trees. My sweet husband has been coming home at lunch on Mondays so I can sneak away for a swim, and one of these weekends I'm in town, I'm going to double my yardage.

Hunter couldn't get enough of the neighborhood pool in Little Rock. He had a ball, so we found a baby pool in the end-of-summer clearance section. It's not quite the same as having Ethan to splash with, but it'll do for now. We sure miss those cousins already; our house is so quiet and boring! We just wish little Annie could've come too.

It's gotten dark in the mornings here-- the mountain shades us from the sunrise for a while-- so my early bike rides may be coming to an end, just like the summer season. I try to drag it out as long as possible, hanging on to every last daylight moment. But with every end comes a new beginning, sure to be exciting.

the home front

It's a regular nursery around here. We have FIVE baby squirrels living in our back wall, and at least 3 tiny baby quail who live in some bush in the yard. And then we have a baby human who mostly lives inside. The squirrel babies roam around in the garden and surprisingly don't pick the cherry tomatoes that peek out from between the chicken wire cages. I have no idea what quail babies eat, but I can barely even see their cute little fluffy heads over the fresh cut grass. The human baby eats milk, and lots of it. I'm not  having much luck growing my veggies in the garden this year. The tomatoes are ok, the serrano peppers, which are supposed to be 6 inches long, max out at the size of Hunter's little finger. My yellow and red peppers are similarly dwarfish. We planted the okra late, so we've yet to see about that. But the weeds are growing well. At least I can grow weeds and babies. 

I don't even know how to eat these

I was hoping this year as well as last, to be part of a CSA. The deal was last year that you had to work on the farm for your food after the joining fee, but I was never told when to work, even after practically begging. I'm thinking a lot about food lately since Hunter will be getting to sample some in about a month. If he only knew how excited he should be!

Next week he will be 5 months old. He's checking off the boxes too. Interested in grabbing everything, check. Putting it all in his mouth, check. Sitting up with help, check. Rolling over when he feels like it and drooling massive amounts, check and check. He also sleeps through the night (he nurses a few times I think. But who knows, really --Mommy's a little groggy in the middle of the night). Now if he'd just start liking naps more! I mean, whose kid is this anyway? I'm a champion sleeper. But I also have to remember that everything is temporary with babies.

As far as my training is going, I'm just not really worrying about it right now. I still get up every morning to do an early ride or run, but they're pretty short. I've run out of local races except for one in October on base, so I'm just doing it all for fun and to stay in some sort of shape. When talking to Laura the other day, I said I don't feel much mommy guilt for training. But I realized that's why I don't do longer rides or more swimming. Hunter does not like missing meals, and only once has he taken a bottle of milk. (Jeremy said he kept looking at the bottle, then looking at J, then the bottle -- very confusing that this takes just like mama milk!) I hate leaving him for long periods, and I keep thinking that he'll only be this little once. He'll only need me this much for such a short time. There will be other times to do long bike rides and swim more than once a week.

I do love coming home to him. Many times he's in the Bjorn with Daddy, his favorite place, and gives me a huge excited smile when he sees me. Now that's the way to end a training session.

Thinner Air

We took a vacation to Vail last week -- actually Jeremy had a conference to go to, and Hunter and I tagged along. I've never been to that area in the summer and it looks completely different than wintertime. It was cool and green and beautiful. Walking a few blocks to the coffee shop to get breakfast every morning in our pajamas, hiking in the creek, taking the gondola to the top of the mountain, and walking the streets just to see the sights are some things we will definitely miss back at home. We miss Charlie too, since we got to see him while we were there. Funny how you can meet up with a friend from 1000 miles away when you're 500 miles from home in a different direction. 

Jeremy found me a race on Monday night about 10 miles away that included one or two times a half mile swim, racer's choice, then a 5k. It's a series, and this was the fourth of five, so I saw in the results from weeks ago that a certain world champion Xterra pro had done the run plus transition in the high 23s. So I wasn't expecting to be speedy. I had  a few concerns about swimming in an unfamiliar lake, since I tend to panic if the water is too deep, too dark, too murky, too clear, there are too many other people, too few other people, etc. The water was nice and cool in the 60s -- warm for them -- and the perfect combination of murky and light colored for me. I didn't really warm up, since I had things like Hunter baby to tend to (nurse) beforehand. But I got in the water with time enough to stick my head under, realize my ring was too loose, run back to Jeremy to give him the ring, and line up again. 

I think there were about 50 of us, and I was to the outside near the back, so I didn't get too many punches in the gut. However, the new combination of a heavy duty sports bra and a larger chest in the same small wetsuit meant I couldn't breathe. Usually I panic for some reason, then get short of breath, then panic more, repeat. But this time I only started panicking when I couldn't breathe to begin with. We went straight into the sun for a while, and my goggles fogged bad enough that I had to stop and wipe them several times. So it went like this: stroke stroke breathe breaststroke try-to-sight breaststroke gasp stroke breathe... for almost the whole lap. By 2/3 of the way through, having not calmed down much at all, and still unable to get a full breath, I decided that I was most certainly not doing the second lap. I really didn't want to be the last one out there. As it turned out there were several people behind me, but they didn't do the second loop either.

This is my "that was the worst experience of my triathlon life" face

Onto the run, I was very upset with myself for being such a bad swimmer, and I kept thinking about how I won't get many, if any, opportunities to do open water swimming again before that half ironman I've signed up for next spring, which will take place in the Pacific Ocean. I felt like I ran ok considering that I was at a higher elevation and had nobody to catch except a random few racers and some joggers out on the paved path by the river. I enjoyed the sights and was impressed that the Westin had a ski lift coming right out from the lobby going straight up the mountain. Very nice. I ran just under 7:20 pace for a little over 5k. It seemed to be one of the faster runs (transition time is included in the results), and I wasn't too far off the pro's time :). 

With that out of the way, I ran every other day we were there. There was a path along Gore Creek going both ways from town, so I alternated. 

The scenery wasn't too bad along the trail

The last day, I found an off road trail on my way back, which of course I had to follow for a bit. I was surprised at my legs and lungs doing well and letting me run relatively fast for being up in the mountains. 

Hunter loves being in the Bjorn these days, so we spent a lot of time hiking and walking. We could definitely feel the thin air when carrying him up stairs and hills. 

We took the gondola up to the top of the mountain, and two of us hiked while one of us slept. 

We did a little swimming in the pool, which Hunter has realized is what he's been training for in the little bathtub all this time; he loves to kick and splash. We're trying to make him watch lots of Olympic swimming.

It was hard to come home to the hot, dry, boring neighborhood where we can't walk anywhere fun, but it's also nice to be home in familiar surroundings. Hunter seems to recognize his things already.

I was hoping the altitude training had given me a little boost, but it seems just the opposite from my swim and run. Oh well, time to focus on the bike power anyway :)