Stepping up and getting over.

The other day, I was able to catch up with a training compadre from my cycling studio.  Neither of us had trained much over the past week, so we had a little bit to catch up on.

My reason for not training was more work-related.  This other rider's reason was just the need to take a break.  Been there, done that.  Many, many times.  And while athletes probably have these conversations hundreds of times in the course of their lives, this encounter was particularly blog-worthy because of  the candidness.

This particular athlete is intense.  Sometimes intensity makes it hard to communicate and "shoot the breeze", but I definitely admired this person's focus.  Sometimes intensity in training blurs the finish line we want to cross.  And hey, I've been in that saddle -  I used to get frustrated when people weren't as intense as I was in training (Army training is my most vivid example).  I always looked for the perfect training plan, and the perfect answer.  

Then I realized that racing and competition really is just a big mind-f***, and that non-perfect training IS perfect training.

But what this rider confessed truly blew me away.  In so many words, this rider said "I was over-training, and I got kind of an ego". 

While this is obviously abbreviated, they DID say "I got kind of an ego."

WOW.  What do you say to that?

• "Yep, you sure as hell did!"?  That's non therapeutic communication.
• "Yeah, we all get that way." Well, that's not entirely true, either.
• "And what did we learn?!"  That's just being condescending.

After talking with someone else, my friend said they realized that it's cool to celebrate accomplishments, but do so without being a jerk about it - that the people who are the best at what they do are often the ones you wouldn't expect to be the best.  There is no doubt that my friend is a talented individual with a lot of potential.  And it really takes an adult to take that kind of advice from someone, take it to heart, and apply it.  I admire this fellow rider even more, not because of talent but because of them being human.

Setting goals and achieving - and surpassing them - is one thing that sets humans apart from other species.  To train (athletic, academic, etc.) takes great focus and humility, because it's impossible to be on our "A" game each and every freaking day.  Our ability to critically think, rework a plan, and try again is truly amazing, and something we may not always appreciate.  The alternative is to just go through life like a stray plastic grocery bag, just floating on the whim of something else, relinquishing control.

We can resign ourselves to "que sera, sera" (or, as a joke for those who have served in the Middle East, "Insha' Allah"), or we can take the bull by the horns and do something we want.

Time and time again, as athletes, we will be humbled.  We make strides, have setbacks that are physical or mental, and have to dust ourselves off and go again.  I've had my own setbacks and this person will, too.  But things worth having aren't always easy to gain, even if those setbacks are ones we create ourselves.  It's how we grow as individuals, and how our heart and passion for our sport grows too.

Catch-up (in other words...too much to think of something clever)

Man, where do I start...

A *lot* has happened since I last posted.  D has left for Army training in Missouri for 5 months.  I turned 39.  Work has been busy.  I've been cycling more/running less (I need to reverse that a little).  And I am purchasing a new bike.

Now, there isn't much to say about D leaving.  It happens in military families.  I did it twice in the first three years of our marriage.  He was gone for a year while I was in nursing school.  5 months should be nothing, right?  Well, this time it was so much harder. 

In April, we will celebrate 8 years of being married.  And for the 4th time, we will celebrate apart.  And I think it really hit me this time.  I miss him, terribly.  And yes, people say I should be thankful that he's not in a warzone this time, it is very likely that he will once this school is finished.  And he wants to go.  And I will support him, as he supported me during my two combat tours.

A few days after D left, I turned the big 3-9.  And you know what, I was excited for it.  My 30s were awesome!  I met D.  I served honorably in the Army for 8 years.  I finally finished my nursing degree 10 years after I started.   I started running at 34 and have met a wonderful network of friends through it (and more recently, through cycling).  While D was not here to celebrate, one of my best friends with whom I *thought* I was having a quiet dinner, invited more of my close friends to celebrate with me at TRATA.  I don't think I can ever relay how much that surprise meant to me.  For this transplant, Rochester really felt like home.

"The Corporal's Breakfast"...essentially an Irish Car Bomb with bacon.

Oh.  My.  Cholesterol!  Buttermilk fried chicken with mashed taters!!!

Despite the blizzard on Friday (after working 3 nights in a row), I ventured out in my trusty Subaru to get fitted for a triathlon bike.  Now, the story behind this is interesting, to some. As some may know, my husband has a "hobby" in collecting large implement and equipment.  Think:  Backhoes, bulldozers, tractors.  And yes, this is silly when we live in the city.  But his thinking is that when we are ready to build on our land these will come in handy and save us money in subcontracting the house's foundation.  So, when he also purchased a used pickup truck (for a great price, I'll give him credit for that), I decided then and there that I needed to indulge in a toy myself.  After he did his test drive and asked if he could buy it, I said: "Sure, if I can get my tri-bike in time for next year's racing season."

And there you have it. 

I got fitted at Geneva Bicycle Center, and will pick up my new (two) wheels the first week in March.

And no doubt, I'll get more use out of it in the next four months than that bulldozer will!

Casseroles AGAIN?! - lament of a time cruched athlete-wannabe.

Many of my friends ask how I balance my training with my crazy work schedule, and with my "responsibilities" as a wife , (no, I'm not a slave, but the cooking, cleaning, and laundry responsibilities do fall on me).

I don't have multi-tasking down to perfection (D can attest to this).  Although as I write this blog, I am dual-tasking by spending quality time with my dog Fez in my lap (he likes to help when I'm on the computer by pointing to the exact key on the keyboard that I need).  Laundry and cooking is sporadic.  Cleaning, even more so.  Making sure D has underwear and socks falls ahead of mopping and vacuuming.  And thankfully I survive in either nursing scrubs or workout clothes so my wardrobe essentials are pretty minimal.

I'm thankful for the Elmwood Inn or the Otter Lodge to feed us when I don't have time (or just don't have the energy) to cook.  I've been known to have s'mores or a couple bowls of Cap'n Crunch for dinner and nothing else.  D lives off casseroles when I work - and I'm glad he really doesn't mind.

I don't have racing/training down to a science, either.  I'm not particularly fast (a middle-of-the-packer in mid-distance races), so I don't think that anyone looks to my mediocrity as inspiration, or a goal.

Although I "only" work 36 hours a week (three twelve-hour shifts), those shifts alternate between nights (7pm-7am) and days (7am-7pm).  I only have two patients, but as a Trauma and Burn ICU nurse, often those two patients will keep me on my feet all.  Shift.  Long.

For example, one day I had two patients who each had hourly evaluations (other than their vital signs) due to their mechanism of injury.  Add their medications, hourly vital signs assessments, charting, and helping the nurses to my left and right - it can get REALLY busy.  And often my legs feel like dead weight afterwards.

Thankfully I don't have to work a lot of weekends (two weekends out of every six weeks).  But that said, following a prescribed training plan is pretty much impossible.  I don't get to do my "Long Run Saturdays" or "Tempo Thursdays".  It just gets fit in whenever it gets fit in.  I miss out on doing community stuff, like Monroe Milers - something I would really love to do if I had a normal schedule.

I try to work my "three days" back to back, so I get some consecutive days off in between.  So on those working days, I concentrate just on the running.  I've found running tired (especially after a night shift) to be very beneficial.  I don't often have a goal for these runs, but I hardly call them "junk miles".  At times they turn into 5-mile tempo runs and I surprise myself.  Running tired helps you realize what you can push your body to do - something I learned a lot about when I was training for Sehgahunda 2011 (which was by far my worst race in terms of how I fell apart, but one from which I learned from).

On the days I don't work, I often cram in brick workouts (swim/bike or bike/run) or two-a-days.  I don't do specific "speedwork", and only occasionally get in a hill workout.  Over the past year I haven't been running trails as much, although I love running trails in the wintertime the most, so I see this changing over the next few months.  Once or twice a week I hit the pool at UofR.  I don't have a specific triathlon in mind right now, but as my body has responded well to multi-sport disciplines (both in health and my weight), I see this as being my direction go forward (my dream was once do to trail ultras, but as my ankle has been re-damaged annually on trails, I see 26.3 as my max limit on trails).

At times, I feel guilt for not being a better wife - I honestly do try my best.  D is busy too.  And our schedules do not mesh together:  We spend very little time together when you look at how many hours are in a week.  Often I may skip a workout altogether when he gets the rare early night home.  And so be it.

So, there is my (albeit poor) balancing act in a nutshell.  But over the past few months I can't say that it hasn't worked for me:  Since September, I placed third in my age group at a super-sprint duathlon, and I PRd in the half-marathon and 5k (both by over 90 seconds).  I guess these personal triumphs just affirmed to me that quality over quantity will reap decent rewards.  I know that my "success", as others may define it (i.e. consistent AG placing, or winning), will be very limited because I can only dedicate X-hours a week to training - and I refuse to sacrifice family and sanity any more than I have.  But considering that this girl only started running 4.5 years ago, I'm pretty darn happy with how far I've come.

It's the last piece of the puzzle but you just can't make it fit...

The past few weeks, put together, became the last piece of the puzzle that I've tried to put together over the past few months.  Finally, when I crossed the finish line today at the Rochester Half Marathon, the puzzle was finished.

A few days/races/events made up that piece:

-The Dirt Cheap Stage Race #6 (which was my first race since April, and my first trail race since January or February)
-The Wine Country Ramble (a women-only cycle tour of Canandaigua)
-The Rochester Half Marathon

A little summary for those who don't know...the end of June, Dave and I were excited to learn that we were pregnant.  I took it easy, didn't run some of the races I planned to do, in order to give the three of us a good start.  My first appointment with my doc was "A-ok".  But the day after that appointment, I miscarried.  And that was my undoing.  I'll save the stew of emotions that followed over the next several weeks (and even today), but it was hell.  But I think the first thing I told my friend Barb was "I need to do SOMETHING.  I'll make the best of the next 5-6 weeks until the Rochester Half Marathon, and do it".

I'm good at lying to myself enough to get the job done, but it wasn't so easy this time.  I wasn't cleared for another two weeks to run, and even then my hematocrit (percentage of red blood cells in my blood) had subsequently dropped significantly.  3 mile runs felt like the Bataan Death March.  Many times I wanted to say "eff it," and not run the half.  In fact, I seriously contemplated giving up running for a while, because my miserable workouts only reminded me of why I was in the situation in the first place.  I gave up something I loved for something I so badly wanted...and came up empty in more than one way.

But a few weeks ago, I got an email from a co-worker with some pretty inspiring pictures.  One of our burn survivors, ran a 5k not two months after his discharge from the hospital.  And to see those pictures, with his hot and uncomfortable compression gear he has to wear as his skin continues to heal (during a hot day already), I decided then and there to quit throwing a pity party for myself and start training harder, regardless of how it hurt.

And for some reason, my runs started to fall in to place.  At first, I needed the iPod (which for those who know me, I am VERY much anti-iPod on runs).  I needed the volume (which was very loud) to literally drown out all the negativity in my head.  And it worked (thank you, Evanescence!)

So my first race since April (the Flower City Challenge) was the Dirt Cheap race.  It's the shortest but most hilly race of the series.  And I guess I can say I held my own.  Trail running, as much as I love it, still intimidates me.  And it was trail running that I gave up when I found out I was pregnant (since I'm a bit clutzy).  So to return to it was bittersweet.  But I ran most of the hills, enjoyed the single track and the silence, and even enjoyed the burn of the sweat in my eyes.  But hands down the best part of the evening was seeing my husband afterwards, and dinner with friends.  I can't remember laughing as hard as we did that night.  Therapeutic!

A few days later I participated in the Wine Country Ramble, an inaugural event that gave participants a lot to do:  3-4 routes of varying distances, bike maintenance and yoga clinics, free wine tasting and tours at Sonnenberg Gardens, and delicious pasta stations and (more!) wine at the Wine and Culinary Center.  This ride was also a big step for me, as I had never done a ride on hilly terrain (which pretty much defines Canandaigua)  Running up hills is so much easier!  I went conservative and only rode 17 miles on Saturday, but I felt really great afterwards and wanted to try more.  So Sunday I picked the 33 mile route - quite a challenge, but the beauty of riding along Canandaigua Lake made up for it.  I took on hills that I NEVER imagined I'd tackle, let alone pass some riders.  I met some really great people that weekend, too - hopefully future cycling buddies!  I was totally whipped when it was said and done, but I felt great.  I can't wait for next year's event!

Wine tasting at Sonnenberg Gardens...refreshing after a ride!

made-to-order pasta station was quite popular.

bowtie with portobello mushroom, tomatoes, squash, olives, chicken.  With basil and alfredo sauce

Start of one of the rides

owners of Cycledelic Studio had delicious munchies!

East side of Canandaigua Lake, at Vine Valley

heading to the aid station/turnaround point on Sunday - Vine Valley

Heading back to the finish...

Rochester Half Marathon:  23 September, 2012

A lot was hanging over my head with this race.  I PR'd last year.  But with my training (lack thereof) this year, I just wanted to finish under 2:15.  Once again, great weather was a blessing (despite the threat of rain, it was sunny and 50 degrees!)

Barb wanted to be sure to post a pic EARLY.  You know I'm only kidding, right?!

Me and Dave G, my clinical instructor from nursing school.

Racing team membership has it's own privileges...our own porta-potty WITH toilet paper!

I met up with my friend Amy in the parking lot and we headed to the start line together.  I then met up with Dave, an NP at Strong, who was also one of my clinical instructors.  Our plan was to run together (more on that later) as we had similar finish time aspirations.  We started together, perhaps too far back in the crowd.  But as we got onto East Avenue we split just past mile 1...Dave had a great pace, but it was just too much for me this early.  I usually take it easy for the first couple miles in a HM, but knowing the hills to come, I wanted to be conservative.  I can't say that seeing him running into the distance was sad for me, as with the sun I couldn't see much of anything.  I missed Phyllis cheering on East Avenue, but was able to catch a former co-worker Eric across from Strathallan. 

Winton and Highland was more difficult than last year.  My legs were burning, but I knew it was relatively short lived - and along this part of the route is always full of cheering crowds.  A girl that I deployed twice with, who is an officer with RPD, gave me a thumbs up as I passed her along Highland, and I counted the steps until we turned onto Clinton.  The Blonde Musketeers (Sandy, Megan, Kathy and Wendy) were a welcome site along this part of the route, too!  And Duane, Chuck and Jill were thankfully cheering at all the right spots where I needed them the most!

I badly needed something to drink once I turned onto Clinton, but instead I wore the Gatorade because the plastic cup (they better return to the paper cups next year) split as soon as I grabbed it.  This happened at every aid station for the rest of the race.  I was not a happy camper.

But...left foot/right foot/repeat...keep on going.

After I got to the Canal Path, I really started to unravel.  My hamstrings and quads hurt.  My throat was dry.  And my necklace broke.  I wasn't feeling as strong as I was last year - understandable - and it was really becoming more evident that this may not be a great race (and I wasn't sure if my ego could tolerate).  But I thought again about our burn survivor who ran a 5k (and who coincidentally came to Rochester last night with his family to thank all the staff who saved his life), and decided then that I needed to quit being a sissy and suck it up.  I met up with Amy about half a mile before Genesee Valley Park, which was a welcome sight!  We gave each other encouragement, and started wargaming what our finishing time would be.  I wasn't sure if I would PR at this point, but I was contemplating slowing down.  I would rather miss a PR by 5 minutes than to miss a PR by 30 seconds (which was where I was at this point).  Again...right foot/left foot...  And at 10 miles, I almost thought to walk.  I was tired, but deep down I knew I couldn't throw in the towel quite yet. 

For the rest of the route, more of the same.  The incline to Ford Street was oddly brutal but the slight decline down Exchange was a welcome relief, as was the Perinton XC team (which I remembered from last year...ALWAYS enthusiastic!)  One more incline up Plymouth, and I was pretty much home free, but I didn't feel energized like last year.  Every step was a conscious effort.  My tank was running on vapor.  I saw Michelle and Duane on their bikes as I neared the final turn towards the finish line - I wave and smile weakly.  Please, don't let me bite it and fall on my face.

I turned onto Morrie Silver Way, and the finish seemed so far.

I heard Ellen call my name as I approached the finish.

I saw Barb at the timing tent.

I also saw the gun time as I approached the finish.

And for the first time crossing a finish line, the water works started.

And I felt really, really stupid.

I can see crying for running my first sub 2-hour.

But for as shitty as my summer had been, to nearly give up running after we miscarried, and to then PR on so little training (a method for which I'm not advocating), I never in my dreams thought it would end this way.  I don't know where it came from.

And then I saw a fellow Endurance Team teammate Jim just as I got my medal.  And I cried again.

Okay, Krista.  Seriously.  Get an effin' grip.

Finished!!!

One great cheerleader, photographer...and most of all, friend!  Barb!

Gun Time:  2:07:24 (in 2011 - 2:08:59)
Chip Time: 2:06:23 (in 2011 - 2:08:07)

Thoughts on my bike ride today...

Truly, I wasn't expecting much for my ride today.  It is by far the warmest day I've ridden, and I was riding the Flower City Challenge route (hilly and wind-in-your-face heading out, pretty smooth coming back).  

Today was just not my day.

After the third hill on River Road, I ducked into a neighborhood to get a break from the wind (which was strong enough to keep me from really relaxing, and my neck throbbed).  I had to stop at the corner of Erie Station and Scottsville Road for a breather and to drink something (go figure, I can ride aero, but can't steadily grab my water bottle!)  I was so tired, that taking a photo of the fishing bait vending machine actually seemed interesting...

I was so happy to see Jefferson Road on the way back.

And when I got home, I felt like this...

Some other thoughts:

*To the jerkwad truck driver at Elmwood and Genesee - gee whiz, no one has ever whistled at me as I rode by.  I was so flabbergasted and flattered, that I forgot to turn around and give you my phone number!

*Like running, a bad ride is better than no ride at all.

*Although roadkill creeps me out, I know that with my new Gatorskin tires, I won't be stranded with a flat.

*Vanilla soy milk is the SHIZZ after a hard ride!

Found during my ride today...

The Ride for Missing Children

As my knees have protested more to my usual high-mileage running, I started focusing more on the bike this year, and already completed a duathlon.  Last year, some friends participated in the annual Ride for Missing Children, a fundraiser for the National Center for Missing and Exploited Children.  Minimum fundraising is $300, which my husband's office, and several of my running friends (who were lured with baked treats as bribes to donate) pulled through for me.

I wasn't able to get in a lot of rides, but I felt I was in decent shape to ride 100 miles.  Working 12 hour days makes it hard to fit in my training - either I'm too tired to feel safe in traffic, or it's already dark.


About a week before the ride, I was having a lot of issues with my bike tires - I was going through 1-2 tubes a week.  I didn't have a ton of miles on my tires, but they were chewed up from riding on rough shoulders.  I finally broke the bank and invested in a pair of Continental GatorSkins, and the suggestion of a few riders whose opinion I trust.  Fast forward briefly - for the ride, I had NO problems, and never even had to re-inflate my tires.


For the Ride, I met up with Michelle, Phyllis and Bob at Total Sports Experience.  I was incredibly nervous about my tires, but other than that, I had no reservations about finishing the ride.  My only loss was my insulated water bottle at about mile 5 (which, despite having my name on it, never found its way back to me).


The Ride is held on a Friday each year, as it's focus is to reach out to school-age kids.  This year's emphasis was on Internet Safety.  During the opening ceremony, we heard from Steve Carter, who for over 30 years was a "Missing Kid" who found himself on one of Center's websites.

Steve Carter.  Photo Courtesy - Gin Singer

Hearing his story, although probably rare, really drove home the point of why we do this ride.  With Brittanee Drexel still missing, one has to hope there *could* be a happy ending.

Photo courtesy - Gin Singer

As part of the ride, we rode by (slowly) several schools - as far as Brockport and Hilton - with all the kids cheering and screaming like they were at a New Kids on the Block concert (wait, Justin Beiber, or Taylor Swift... all the rage now, right?)  We also stopped at about 5 schools to pass out pencils, get our high-fives, and get something to eat (the only advice Bob had for me was to not eat too much - one can gain weight on this ride!)

Photo courtesy - Gin Singer

We did ride by one high school.  The six teenagers out there looked bored to tears.


I had the opportunity to meet a lot of great folks on this ride, but meeting up with Dave, one of my nursing school clinical professors (and one of the best instructors at U of R School of Nursing), took the freakin' cake! 

The route was pretty flat - a few rolling hills but not anything that was too difficult (unless you got stuck behind someone riding a single-speed cruiser, which - of course - I did).  It wasn't until about Mile 80 did I start getting pretty cranky.  I got pushed to the back by some riders riding 3-and-4 across, separating me from Dave.  For about 10 miles I was stuck in the "Asshole Peloton", as I called it, until we got to our last official stop at the Jewish Community Center.  I met up with Dave and his group there, thankfully.


Between the JCC and the end of the ride, we had one last stop at the Wegman's Conference Center (mile 98 or so), so riders who dropped out earlier could remount and complete the ride as a group.  My butt hurt, my back hurt, my right arm and shoulder hurt from the constant shifting and braking.  I was so ready to be done...

But finishing this ride was such a sense of accomplishment.  Which seems to be my life's theme over the past year (marathon, duathlon, century ride).


And let me say this...seeing the massage therapy students from Monroe Community College at the finish was like a dream come true!

In summary, I was tired and ready to get comfortable in my bed, it really is something special to be part of an event this big, to bring awareness to an important issue.  I don't have kids, and don't know if I ever will.  But I simply cannot fathom the pain of not knowing the whereabouts of your child.  So I can only hope that the meager amount of money I was able to raise will help someone.