Race Report - RTC Sprint 2015

You don't burn out from going too fast.  You burn out from going too slow and getting bored. -- Cliff Burton

You can't be fat and fast, too; so lift, run, diet, and work. -- Hank Stram

Yesterday was my tri-club's annual sprint triathlon.  It is a 400-meter open water swim in a pool (trust me - sheer chaos), 12.75 mile bike, and 5K run.  It's a lot of fun, especially when you know a bunch of people and they're all yelling for you.  On the other hand, when it's cold, it really sucks.  And yesterday it was cold.  Somewhere in the 40s.  So basically you swim really hard for some 9 minutes (at least if you're me) and then you run soaking wet into the freezing weather and get on a bike where, ideally, you are going fast in the wind and getting colder and colder.  Doesn't that sound like fun to you?

I didn't have a great race - but I thought I did.  I had misremembered my times from years past so I thought I had a PR, but it turns out I was 7 minutes SLOWER than last year.  Some of that is in transition where I stopped to put on a jacket before the bike and took the jacket off before the run.  Here (thanks to Iron Sherpa's obsession with numbers) are my times for this course:

LEG	2013		2014		2015
Swim	11:41		9:37		9:31
T1	1:52		1:58		2:38
Bike	42:53		41:18		45:15
T2	2:00		1:48		2:00
Run	29:49		28:53		30:40
Total	1:28:13		1:23:32		1:30:09

Needless to say, I'm a little disappointed.  Clearly not all of my extra time can be blamed on bundling & unbundling in transition...I was slower on the bike and the run from previous years.  Some of that could be the cold too - I can tell you my feet got numb while I was riding.  But I think also that I have gotten a little too fat and I can't be fat and fast.  And so, back to the drawing board with eating.  I've done well before, losing a lot of weight and getting into "race shape."  That's what I need to do now.  But it's hard - I won't lie.  I like to eat.  I like food.  I like drinking beer and wine and going out.  But I also like to be fast.  And I need to remember that going forward this year.  Fat isn't fast.  But it does make for a good song...

Just Like Starting Over...

So it's like starting over again, but I look forward to the challenge. -- Lee Majors

Tri season is here.  Open water season is here.  And my anxiety is flaring up like you wouldn't believe.  Iron Sherpa is like - "Girl, you've done all of this before, why are you all nervous?"  And I'm like - "Ummm.  No idea but it feels all different than before."  And it does.  It's like this season I'm starting new from scratch, which is just goofy.

I'm certain part of my mental drama is that I have DNF for my last two A-races...not through any "fault" of my own.  I didn't cause the stress fracture or the hypothermia, but still, it makes the finish line feel really far away in my mind, no matter how long the race.

But tomorrow is my first tri of the season.  It's an open-water-type swim in a pool (no lane lines, buoys to round) and then a short bike and run.  And it's supposed to be damn cold - low 40s when I'm supposed to be running out of the pool and getting on my bike.  Hypothermia calling?  Anyone?  Anyone?  I'm trying to figure out how much to bundle so that it doesn't send me over the edge, because I still HATE being cold, this many weeks after the marathon.  Yeah, I guess I'm being a little whiny.

But classes are done for the semester and I'm getting ready to settle into writing and training mode, at least until vacation.  Then I'm going to have a great time before returning to writing and training mode.  :)  I am looking forward to a good productive summer for both.  Now if we could just get some summer weather, it would be a lot easier.  Y'know what I mean?  Where is spring this year?  It is either cold or unseasonably warm for a couple days.  And then cold again.

I'm going to rock my race tomorrow.  I'm going to swim well.  I'm going to bundle up in T1.  I'm going to bike hard.  I'm going to unbundle in T2.  And I'm going to run my little heart out.  Go me!

J is for Juggle

Like every mom, you try to juggle, but I also want people to know that you don't have to be a superhero.  I'm not a superhero; I have a team of people who help me.  I have a great family support system. -- Kimora Lee Simmons

There are lots of reasons for that gap between men's and women's wages but to me, the big one is the work-family issue.  Trying to juggle children and a job is tough under any circumstances, but especially if you're shooting for the kind of career that involves long hours at work and being on call 24-7. -- Gail Collins

Spring is the hardest season for me, I think.  The juggling that occurs just to make it through the week is extraordinary.  Elder daughter plays on 2 soccer teams (school and travel) which means 2x1.5 hours of practice most week nights, not to mention games during the week (school) and on the weekend (travel).  Younger daughter who does triathlon and volleyball is busier with the end of volleyball...meaning lots of games...and the beginning of tri season...most kid tris seem to be scheduled early season around here.  Then Iron Sherpa and I are also ramping up our training for our early season HIMs.  And this spring I've gotten some fantastic opportunities related to work that have involved travel - whether it be a day trip to DC or a couple days elsewhere.  Basically I feel lucky if everyone is where they are supposed to be, most of our clothes are clean, and there is something -- anything -- to eat in the house.  (And it's been a close call on that last one a few times.)

That being said, I'm also finishing up the semester, so there's a spurt of busyness, followed by summer - where I'm busy on my own schedule.  And also busy training (when not on vacation).

With the 50 Women to Kona discussions going on, there is a side conversation about other things that keep women from pursuing long course triathlon.  The point most frequently raised (at least in the corners I lurk) is that the juggle is too much.  And I get it.  Believe me.

I am not a superhero.  I don't do things perfectly.  I sometimes let balls drop (oops - was our car license plate supposed to be renewed 3 months ago?  and we're out of trash bags???)  But I am training for long course and I'm getting by.  So FWIW, here are some of the thoughts I have on why it works FOR ME.  Your mileage may vary.
1)  My husband is supportive.  Even before Iron Sherpa started doing triathlons, he understood the importance of my training and worked with me to make it happen.  Now that he's also going long course, he understands even more.
2)  My kids are a little older and used to pitching in.  Now, them being older cuts both ways.  Half of the time the crazy in our house is due to their scheduling overlaps.  But we can leave them alone for short periods.  They can walk to school if we need to get out early.  We know and trust the carpool parents and can switch off driving when necessary.  AND they can help.  They can help with the dishes, with dinner, getting themselves ready for events and the next day.  They're good kids who (generally) do their homework without any nagging.
3)  We are Team Osenga.  We support each other's activities - and that means going to each other's events (even when they're boring) and helping out around the house when other people are busy.  We try to eat together if possible, even if it means some crazy eat times or some fairly lame food.  Sometimes we combine our activities - Iron Sherpa or I will go for a run during one of the daughter's practices.  And all four of us ascribe to this idea of team.
4)  We have some luxuries that not everyone has.  I have an incredibly flexible schedule.  This lets me get some long workouts in during the week without completely ruining family time.  And this also lets me free up weekends for Iron Sherpa to get in some of his long workouts while I shuttle the girls, etc.  We have fantastic carpool friends on Elder's soccer team.  And this year we have hired a cleaning company to visit our house every other week.

This is how we juggle.  It's not easy and it's not for everyone.  But I'm proof it is not impossible.

If it quacks like a duck...

Time is generally the best doctor. -- Ovid

As any doctor can tell you, the most crucial step toward healing is having the right diagnosis.  If the disease is precisely identified, a good resolution is far more likely.  Conversely, a bad diagnosis usually means a bad outcome, no matter how skilled the physician. -- Andrew Weil

I will be honest.  I hate doctors.  I wanted to be a doctor, but I'm not -- and so I probably act out my frustration at my career redirection (after failing organic chemistry twice) on the whole medical profession.

But after nearly 3 weeks of not feeling myself after what is now known as "The Great Hypothermia Adventure," we decided it was time to seek some medical help.  I was cold, even in sunny San Diego.  I was tired, to the point of falling asleep while driving or in church or in my office.  I was sluggish when I was awake and I mostly just wanted to sleep.  And it wasn't depression rearing its ugly head -- been there, done that, and none of the other symptoms of depression were present.  I'm eating well, not craving sugar, and Iron Sherpa and I are planning spring marathons for next year.  No - this is not depression.  So what the hell was wrong with me?  Time to visit the doctor.

I went to my primary care this past Monday and told him my symptoms.  He pointed out that I've gained weight since I saw him 3 years ago. (Well, yeah - I'll admit, I've packed on some baggage after the stress fracture at Louisville, but I'm working on it now.)  And then he decided that my symptoms were either seasonal allergies or sleep apnea.  WTH?  Did he even listen to me?  All of the symptoms came on immediately post a stressful event.  I've never had seasonal allergies in my life, nor do I have any other allergy symptoms.  And sleep apnea?  Are you kidding me?  Most of the old men in my life travel with their handy, dandy little CPAP machines.  I, on the other hand, don't snore unless I have a cold and Iron Sherpa is such a light sleeper, he would be the first to diagnose sleep apnea.  He ordered a few basic blood tests, but I went home and decided my primary care doc is a quack.  And I kept trying to do my own research.

One of the reasons I went to the doc in the first place is because I couldn't find any information about how long it takes to recover from hypothermia.  Lots of information on acute care, but no information on long-term recovery (unless you die, then there's no recovery).  After the doctor gave me nothing to work with, I started instead researching symptoms rather than diagnoses.  Unfortunately the disease that seems to fit me best -- adrenal fatigue -- is also considered a disease of quackery.  So, which quack do I believe?

The good news is that I'm starting to feel a little better, but it's coming at the expense of the rest of my life.  Rest is the best cure, it seems, for what I have (pointing again to adrenal fatigue - that disease that doesn't exist).  I've mostly kept up with my training, but for a very strong fear of getting cold - so that's good.  8 weeks to Raleigh.  6 months to IM Maryland.  Quack!  Quack!  Quack!

Travelogue - San Diego (or how I got over hypothermia-malaise)

I love driving; driving along the California coastline is the best drive in the world. -- Al Jardine

OK, so I don't actually like to drive and the post here is not at all about driving...but running.   That whole hypothermia thing kind of knocked me on my butt.  I honestly slept for a week...and I assume it is simply because hypothermia is so hard on your body.  I searched the Googles, but nothing explains what happens after you warm up.  If my experience is anything typical, you sleep.  A lot.  And you are sleepy.  Very sleepy.  And it's not good.

But it's been nearly two weeks now, and I'm starting to feel like myself again.  I'm currently in San Diego on business and I went for a 6-mile run along the coast and it made everything all better.  I highly recommend that this might be the cure for hypothermia.  :)

Pictures later.

Recovery...to Raleigh...and Beyond...

I know that in life there will be sickness, devastation, disappointments, heartache -- it's a given.  What's not a given is the way you choose to get through it all.  If you look hard enough, you can always find the bright side. -- Rashida Jones

This week started with disappointment, devastation, and heartache after the marathon DNF and has turned into sickness and devastation.  All I want to do is get back on the training wagon and all my body wants to do is collapse in on itself.  I have some terrible cold or bronchitis or something...and I'm exhausted.  I tried to go for a little run on Tuesday - it was 80 degrees for goodness sake - but after about a mile I felt like I had asthma or COPD or something.  It was awful.  I had to just walk back to my car and even then I felt crappy.  I've slept in for 4 days.  I don't know.  It's getting very frustrating.

So what's the bright side?  Maybe this is the lull before the storm - the chance for my body to get into the place it needs to be in order to rock Raleigh and then IMMD.  Slowing down has also given me a chance to focus on my eating (I'm playing a weight loss contest at the YMCA to give me some accountability...more on this later).  Slowing down has let me realize that I have a lot of stuff around the house I need to prioritize before the crazy of IM training gets awesome this summer.  We'll call that the bright side.  Now it's time to recover and move on.  I am tired of laying on the couch.

So, It's Kind of a Funny Story...and What You Don't Know About Hypothermia Can Hurt You

Humans are pretty crafty, but will fold quickly in severe cold. -- Henry Rollins

The weather plays a very big role.  I have run very few races in the raining and the cold.  -- David Rudisha

So, it probably isn't really a funny story, but sometimes, after the fact, all you can really do is laugh about it.  Yesterday I did not finish (DNF) the DC Rock 'n' Roll Marathon due to hypothermia - I was pulled off the course by medical just shy of 14 miles.  Hypothermia is totally not a laughing matter, although I didn't realize how serious it was until I was talking with the EMTs (eventually, after getting rewarmed).  I mean, heck - I live in Virginia, I had been racing one of the hottest IM Louisville years - I know all the signs, symptoms, and preventative measures for HYPERthermia...but who the heck thought I'd get too cold?  How did this happen...

Well, it starts like all horror stories - it was a dark and stormy morning.  Temps in the low 40s.  Prior to race time, the rain went anywhere from none to fairly heavy.  And it was cold.  Cold rain, cold air.  I stayed warm until I checked my bag (no rain), but then it started to rain again before we had to get in our corrals.  For the first couple miles, it was just steady rain - nothing too heavy.  And then, after mile 4, pouring rain.  Then around mile 7, lighter.  Then around mile 10, heavy.  It didn't matter - after the first couple miles all of my layers of clothes were soaking - you could literally wring water out of my water-resistant rain jacket.  Not a good sign.

Anyway, I passed where the marathon peeled off from the half-marathon and with fewer humans around, it felt colder.  Or I felt colder.  I don't know.  But I knew I was starting to feel cold, so I stopped at the medical tent around mile 14 to see if they had any mylar blankets that I could wrap around my torso while I ran to warm up a little bit.  They told me they didn't have any, and they started asking me questions - what was I feeling?  Was I dizzy/having palpitations/confused/etc.?  They sat me down, wrapped me in a garbage bag (the closest thing they had to a mylar blanket), and started wrapping me in their jackets and hugging on me.  It was then I realized that I was uncontrollably shaking - could not stop shivering to save my life.  The EMTs told me I was going to be transported back to main medical, that I was done for the day, and that it was a good thing I stopped - this did not make any sense to me at the time.

For whatever reason, the transports from main medical were not very swift, so after a while, the EMTs begged a police officer to let me sit in the back of her cruiser to get warmer and try to stay dry.  Thankfully, she was a dear - so she let me (first time in the back of a cop car!).  But I couldn't stop shaking.  Eventually she had to turn her heat down because she was dying...but I was still cold.

Then after a bit, the last runner came by with the tailing sag wagon - and immediately, a truck came and took down the medical tent.  Not only was I stranded by the race, but so were the EMTs.  They asked the cop if they could sit in the cruiser too, and then I'm not sure exactly what happened, but the EMTs got very concerned and starting pulling off my clothes.  They decided at this point that I would never get warm if I was wet, so they wrapped me in a RnR Sports Med t-shirt and their jackets and scarves.  Then they took off my shoes and socks - blue feet!  OMG - my toes were blue - I saw them.  One of the EMTs took off her boots and socks and gave me her socks to wear.  Both of them were piling themselves on top of me.  At some point they called an ambulance...which also didn't hurry itself along.

The roads were starting to open up, so the cop we were with got called to another post - she didn't want to leave us, but she couldn't not go to her post (and they were ignoring her requests to transport us to main medical because of liability or something - I don't know - the EMTs were talking about it and I was confused).  Anyway, right before she pulled away, the medical shuttle from the race appeared and picked us up.  He starts to drive to main medical at the finish line and the EMTs radios are chattering with all kinds of field medical tents having the same issue - being stranded by the race after the last runner, having multiple patients needing transport and waiting 30-45 minutes for the shuttle, etc.  I warmed up a little bit, but then started shaking again, so the EMTs decide that I need to lose my leggings too.  Whoo whoo - me, wearing the EMT jackets tied around my waist like a makeshift skirt, another jacket of the EMT and their t-shirts, another person's socks, and a scarf tied around my head like a babushka.  Yeah.  I'm a sexy beast.

The shuttle driver did not know what he was doing, so we took the longest possible route to main medical, including having to make a loop twice because he was afraid to pull in where the cops were - on the 2nd loop, the EMT jumped out of the door and got the cops to let us through all the closed road.  Very exciting adventure.  Not.  I was getting warmer but was still very confused.

When we finally got to main medical, it was clear that they had not planned for hypothermia, despite the fact that the weather was forecast for the whole week.  They only had 2 heaters (with multiple cots piled around each) and no warm fluid to drink.  They put me on a cot, took off the clothes that the EMTs needed back (one just literally gave me a jacket off her back - she took the EMT coat but gave me her actual jacket), wrapped me in mylar blankets, got my bag from bag check (where I at least had a dry sweatshirt and socks) - and thank goodness, because I heard people were waiting in line for 45 minutes-2 hours to get their bags...I imagine my EMT (my EMT) pushed her way to the front, because they were both all kinds of awesome.  Anyway, main medical had no warm fluid, no dry paper clothes, etc.  They made me stay on the cot until I wasn't blue and seemed to be relatively stable - I actually got up myself because they brought in someone who looked worse than me and they were all out of cots.  Plus I decided that I earned my damn finisher jacket - I may never wear it, haven't decided yet, but I feel like I earned my dues - plus I wanted something else to put on.  I tried to buy dry pants/shorts/something from the merchandise tent, but they only had shirts and shot glasses....you have to admit - some of this is a little bit funny.  Me, being stripped in the back of the cop car (I kicked her gun once or twice when they were trying to warm up my feet).  The getting lost on the way to main medical (since I was mostly stable - if I wasn't, that wouldn't really be funny at all).

So that was my race day - I am fine - I don't think I ever had heart issues (at least that I realized) from it, but I learned that your heart rhythm can flip with hypothermia just like it can with hyperthermia.  Dang - that's scary.  I just thought I was cold.  I did some research to figure out what I could do different, but the answer is...not too much.  Most of this wasn't my fault - so that kind of sucks.  But here's what I know.

Hypothermia is more likely to happen if:

• You are super skinny or tall.  (I am neither - so not my problem)
• You are slow (because you are outside for longer than other racers...yeah, that's me - plus apparently when you're slow you don't work up as much body heat).
• It is cold, windy, rainy - any one of the three can cause it, but all three together makes it super special.  And I had all three.
• You are dehydrated or underfed.  I may have been both - because I was cold and wet, I may not have drunk enough at the aid stations.  Plus, I am not sure I was thinking clearly, so I may have screwed up my nutrition plan.  Not sure about that one.
• You are old, young, or feeble.  Nope, that's not me.

I also learned that shivering is better than not - because at least your body is trying to get back to regulated.  So that was a good sign - the blue skin/lips?  Not so much a good sign.  Confusion, withdrawn, crabbiness - bad signs...but who isn't crabby partway through a marathon?  Thankfully the EMTs are smarter than me.  And thankfully I stopped to ask for a blanket - a stupid request, but it gave someone else the opportunity to help me.

If you're going to be running in the cold/rain/wind - take a few minutes to learn about hypothermia.  I had no idea it was something I would ever be affected by...but now I know.  And so do you.