May Days

May is surely the Northern Hemisphere's most perfect month. To begin with, it's a month that starts with Wildflower, one of the Northern Hemisphere's most perfect races. Then, it proceeds to produce cherry, apple, and lilac blossoms, which make even the most dog poop covered streets of Florence smell delicious. It's a month with long days, but without sweltering heat. Around Spokane, it's the most warmth and green that can be experienced simultaneously, and for type A triathletes at the peak of IM Coeur d'Alene preparation, May is when we get to be complete training gluttons. Ahh.

I don't have a lot of photographic evidence of being at Wildflower this year, so I've decided to include some pictures from past years. My sincerest apologies to those involved. This is Conrad making the most of snow peas in 2007.

Our "family portrait" from the same year.


Dan rocking the Speedo. The real reason I love this photo is the guy about to pee his pants laughing in the background.

Rachael being scary. Funny scary.

This year was a lot more mellow. Still, Eve and I had to test out our super cool looking aero helmets and intimidation faces before the race. I think that Eve made it as far as befuddled but not quite all the way to to intimidation. It's rough being so nice.

This is Annie setting up camp the day before the race - proof that we actually did so. We may have wimped out a little when it started to rain, and that may have resulted in our crashing Eve and Laura's hotel room, but we did camp the next night. We had to prove that we were still a little hard core. I mention is just in case you didn't get the "hard core" vibe from the aero helmet shot.

The race itself was great for me for 67.3 miles. My swim was nothing special, but nothing horrendous either, and I've learned to celebrate that. I was a little disappointed to swim alone (AGAIN!), because my last few races I've actually managed to swim with a pack and thought I had finally outgrown the solo swim. Oi vey.

The bike felt fantastic. Climbing Beach Hill was a breeze, and I was surprised by how many women I passed in the first few miles of the bike. Last year I only caught 2 people total on the bike, and that included one woman who I passed coming down Lynch hill in the final mile. I didn't have any HR data, and I'm still not on the power train, so I was going on perceived effort, and it felt pretty easy. When I got to the top of Heart Rate Hill, some people told me that I was 3 minutes off of the leader, which was exciting to hear. By that point I had deduced who the 3 women were ahead of me and I expected that they all would have swum more than 3 minutes faster than I. I admite that got a little excited at the prospect of having the fastest bike split.

Into T2, and all was going well. We northerners were lucky that it wasn't too hot, and I felt pretty good starting out the run. I am ashamed to say that I wasn't expecting to hold 4th place for long. I knew all of the girls that I had passed on the bike, and I had a pretty good idea of how fast they could run. I decided to start conservatively and save myself for the tough bit at the end. That was the plan anyway. By mile 9, no one had passed me and I was feeling great. I actually started to believe that 4th place was mine and that I might actually catch Erica (because everyone kept telling me that she was just ahead). The fueling was going well, there was enough wind to stay cool, and I was shocked at how much better I felt racing than I did in 2008. At mile 10 I experienced the 2nd most instantaneous bonk of my life.

Side note: The most instantaneous bonk of my like occurred at the 7.5 km marker in the ITU age group world champs in Honolulu. That bonk earned me an ambulance ride to Queens hospital and 6 liters of IV fluid. All for bargain price of $8000. It turns out that my health insurance didn't cover "injuries incurred during participation in amateur sporting events." The moral of that story, folks, is to always read the fine print. And don't forget to hydrate.

Anyway. The last 3 miles of the run were pretty ugly. Heather Wurtele and Tyler Stewart passed me at about 11.5 miles and they ended up putting 3 and 5 minutes on me respectively. It was that ugly. But I kept my feet moving in a cadence that resembled running, I enjoyed the day, and I learned a lot. I keep coming back to Wildflower not because it's a race that plays to my strengths (quite the opposite, in fact), but because it absolutely rocks. The vibe, the course, the road trip (17.5 hours each way, baby), and the organization make it a must do event for anyone involved in triathlon. Every time I drove in and out of the park, I was awed by the fact that 10,000 triathletes can be managed so well.

A major perk this year was that Clancy and Charlie rented an RV with a hot shower and parked it right next to transition. Any shower is welcome after a race, but this one definitely beat standing in line to take a tepid shower at the campsites.

This is road trip buddy Laura waiting in line for her turn to shower. The smile is well deserved after finishing her first ever 1/2 ironman.

In other Spokanite news, Eve had a little run-in with the pavement during the bike leg. She waited at an aid station for 30 minutes for medical assistance to arrive and finally decided to just finish the darned thing. She might not have looked terribly hard core in the helmet, but the road rash certainly gives her transition cred. The elbow actually ended up with stitches.

And now I'm just training diligently for Ironman Coeur d'Alene and enjoying most every second. Time for some pictures of May.

The photo below is a juvenile Boreal toad (Bufo boreas boreas) that I found at my dad's house this morning. Most of my friends know that I love frogs and salamanders, but I absolutely adore boreal toads. I haven't seen one since I worked in Yellowstone, and it was such a treat. Spring rocks.

I actually had to get Aaron out of bed to show him Toady. I know I scored a good guy because he was excited too. That or he has learned enough to feign excitement.

These subsequent photos were taken on a day when my front derailleur wasn't cooperating. I had to get off of my bike to fix it every time I shifted, so I figured I might as well snap some photos.

Admiring Latah Creek . . .

Look a little closer . . .

And closer yet . . .

Deer aren't exactly exotic exotic, but a fuzzy antlered young buck standing in a stream is photo worthy.

When I ignore the tractors spraying stinky pesticides all over the Palouse, I can appreciate its pastoral beauty.

Just a random derailleur stop

One of the more delicious feral apple trees, come September. No, I won't tell where it is. I plan to fully exploit it for sauce and cobbler.

Grow little apples, grow!

Remember this picture from February?
Here it is in May. And this?

Viola! 3 months later . . .

I've always loved the last mile on my way home under the Sunset bridge. I especially love it when there is a train (not pictured).

Finally home, spying our little yellow house through the foliage. Vegetation makes everything prettier. Except, perhaps, for Antarctica.

I hope you've all enjoyed the your days of May as much as I have. Thanks for reading.

Warmer Climes

After an extended stay in the more southern reaches of the continent, I returned to Spokane to find just what I had desperately wanted. Fuzzy green grass, budding maple trees, crocuses, daffodils and tulips blooming, and an Ironman Coeur d’Alene bike course open for business. There were a few patches of snow left along the sides of the road, undoubtedly from systems that moved through in December, but the roads were dry, marginally swept, and just as momentum-killing as I remember. It’s good to be back.

My time away began in March, when I flew to San Diego for one too-short day with Shelby and one positively beautiful bike ride with Brian and some other TCSD members. Then it was off to Guatemala for a medical mission trip with Hearts in Motion. I can’t begin to do the experience justice on this triathlon blog, but among other things it reinforced the universality of the human condition, the true capacity of a single person to do an inordinate amount of good in the world, and the relative lack of fortitude of the North American GI system.

Jeremy (the cat) decided to help me pack. That was shortly before he decided to run in front of a car and become a substantially more expensive cat while I was away. Still, his life is better than that of the dogs in the Teculetan dump. . .

. . . and the cows that graze beside flaming pits of garbage.

And sadly, Jeremy's life is probably better than most of the kids who live at the dump. Nonetheless, I love that an impromptu game of soccer is still a lot of fun in such a dire environment.

This kid is a little luckier. He was taken in by nuns at the local nutrition center and is now on track to a much healthier life.

Most of my time in Guatemala was spent with the dental team. We were dispatched to a different remote village every day to do some rudimentary hygiene, oral health instruction, and a lot of extractions. It is sad that that which is a last-ditch procedure in North America is modus operadum in Guatemala, but ultimately the fact that we were there with Lidocane spared a lot of people a lot of pain. These two girls are awaiting extractions. Their names are Imelda and Olga. I love it.

A makeshift dental chair in an old school room (actually the plastic bins in which we transported supplies).

This is a picture of Karen Sheeringa carrying a portable toilet into one of the villages where we did a medical/dental clinic. She is testimony to the fact that one person can make a big change in this world. She single-handedly started Hearts in Motion and is personally responsible for the construction of countless orphanages, nutrition and day-care centers, and playgrounds. For decades, Karen has sent plastic and orthopedic surgeons to developing countries, she has facilitated the treatment of hundreds of kids needing medical treatment in the US, and has often fostered many of them during their stays here. In the midst of all that, she fostered over 300 children, 11 of whom she adopted, and she continues to inspire thousands of volunteers to do more. The woman oozes love and compassion and also has a wicked sense of humor, which makes her that much more approachable and fun.

Adding more richness to the trip was the fact that my dad and sister were there as well, and although we don’t live terribly far apart, it’s rare that we spend extended periods of time in such close proximity. It was 11 years ago that my dad first took me on a medical trip to Buga, Colombia where he was doing cleft lip, cleft palate, and burn surgeries, and he and my sister have subsequently made numerous trips to Zacapa, Guatemala. I only got to spend one full day in surgery with my dad, but it made me incredibly proud of him and the work he does. People tell me all the time what a skilled and compassionate surgeon my dad is, but to see him in action and to see the faces of cleft lip and macrostomia patients instantly transformed made it all much more real to me.

A self portrait of Cassy and me on the roof of the hospital in Zacapa.

driving back from one particularly scenic clinic.

The trip was capped by a visit to Antigua, one of the most beautiful cities in the world. We also manged to find a sports bar there in time to watch the Zags get annihilated by UNC.

But really this is a triathlon blog, right?

Returning to San Diego was a bit surreal after the intense day-to-day experience that was Guatemala, but truthfully, I was looking forward to getting back to training and a land of improved air-quality. Guatemala’s physical landscape was astounding, but the air quality was tarnished by multitudes of older vehicles with no emissions standards, open pits of burning garbage, the dust of the dry season, and particulate entrapping topography. My nose, eyes and lungs got progressively more irritated with every day spent there. It turns out that I am a lot less tough than your average Guatemalan, and so is my digestive tract. I had six days in San Diego before Oceanside 70.3 to get things sorted out, but unfortunately it took more like fourteen before everything was working normally again.

After 10 days of minimal training, I really wanted to hit the training hard, but with an imminent race, the volume wasn’t terribly substantial. It meant that I had a lot of spare time to hang out with Shelby, which rocked. I won’t divulge too much more except to say that we regressed quite a lot and may or may not have choreographed a dance to an entire Silver Platters song. On Thursday before the race, fellow Zoot ULTRA teammate Danielle showed up, which turned out to be a real treat. I knew Dee a little bit from camp and races last year, but hanging out in a more casual format was a blast. Then things got crazy as race day approached. Phaedra and Rachel showed up for the race and Timex camp, and the house became progressively more fun (loud?). Any pre-race anxiety was easily drowned out.

I didn't really take photos, but here's a good one of Shelby and Boomer.

The race was about like it is every year. Over the past 3 years I’ve learned that all pre-race hype regarding water temperature is mostly just that, but that a down jacket in transition pre-race is never regretted. The swim went better than last year, mainly because I didn’t do the whole thing by myself. I should probably also credit the fact that I swam regularly throughout the winter, as opposed to last year when I took 2 months off of swimming because I didn’t really feel like it.

I loved the bike. I would have loved it more if I had gone faster, but it’s still early. If past years are any indication, I will only get faster as the season goes on. It was a beautiful day in Camp Pendelton and my legs felt fresh, as they should after 2 weeks of relative rest. I spent most of the bike leg just being happy that I got to race in such a beautiful place.

I lost it a bit mentally on the run. It wasn’t bad, per se, it just wasn’t good either. I kept a pretty steady pace, slowing a bit towards the end and I just sort of settled in. It was the kind of race that was just fine. Just fine races aren’t nearly as fun as awesome races, but they’re better than dreadful races (Kona ’08 comes to mind . . . ). Hopefully the lack of post-race excitement that I felt will compel me to race a little harder next time. I think I need to stop thinking of races as “B” or “C” races, because that attitude makes me a little complacent when the going gets tougher (as it should towards the end of any race).

The trip didn’t end with the race. After that, it was off to Carlsbad for a couple days of Zoot camp, which got me even more excited about our team partners for 2009 - namely Suunto, GU (the chomps are AMAZING), Orbea and ALCiS (Shelby and I dubbed it the “magic cream”).

I also managed to squeeze in one more good ride with Bill Holland, the guy who built Shelby’s rad little titanium bicycle. The last day of the trip was capped with a San Diego Triathlon Club club race. It was a cold, blustery day on Fiesta Island, which I loved. The swim was okay, the bike awesome, and the run disappointing. Of all the racing highs and lows I’ve experienced in the past 5 years, the one that kept me up for more nights than any other was this one. Jennifer Spieldenner and I ran shoulder to shoulder for the first 2 mile lap, and then I just let her go during the second lap. The legs were a little wobbly from post-Oceanside fatigue, but I really wasn’t feeling particularly taxed when I watched her run away. I just didn’t care, and that made me SO angry with myself. I’m not claiming that I could have beaten Jennifer, I just know that I could have tried a lot harder. Yes, it was just a club race, yes, I was a bit tired from Oceanside, and yes, it was a “C-” race, but it’s time for me to start fighting. That’s my new 2009 resolution.

On a side note, I have to say that I was incredibly impressed with this race. It was well directed, had a good turnout, chip timing, and an amazing post-race feed. Thanks San Diego Tri Club!

And now it’s back to Spokane and a full training schedule. I love it. The weather is amazing, and even though we will likely experience more snow, rain, and wind, it’s all doable from here on out. Even the 10 inches of snow that fell last Tuesday melted before the day was over, so I feel comfortable relegating the trainer to the basement (even though my coach would surely like me to use it more often). I expect leaves on the trees in the next two weeks. This is surely my favorite time of year! Mild weather, the promise of breakfast in the sun on the porch, electric green vegetation, and the prospect of a summer of long hot bike rides through the Palouse. Happy Earth Day!

Last shot of me racing before my club race meltdown.

More gratuitous photos of snow

After last weekend's mini-vacation to Sovereign Lake/Silverstar, I had plans to stone grind my skis and to put on the summer storage wax for the rest of the year. I didn't get in nearly as much skiing as I would have liked this winter, but the season was late to start and now spring is (theoretically) pending. At this point my thoughts and energies are approximately 98% consumed with all things triathlon, but yesterday, the mountain called to Aaron and me. Sure, the Mt. Spokane Snowline reported that it was zero degrees Fahrenheit, but the sun was shining and the winds were calm. The result?

More pictures of Aaron skiing. The lucky guy always gets to be on the other end of the camera.

It was a gorgeous day on the mountain. We are so lucky to have it as a recreational resource not only in the winter, but for mountain biking, trail running, and berry picking in summer. Which seems really, really far away. Especially because it snowed for 2 days straight and then a deep freeze involving record low temperatures sets in afterwards. My last blog post about the roads being clear was a bit premature. We got just enough snow and just enough cold to negate the previous month's warming.

Nonetheless, after 3 consecutive days of trainer riding, I was determined to do today's 90 miler outside. It may have been 7 degrees when I woke up, but, like yesterday, it was sunny and windless, which makes just about any temperature tolerable. The ride was awesome. I didn't really get to stop and take pictures except during one food stop (mittens and zippers are not conducive to eating on the fly), but I was completely awed by the landscape of the snow covered Palouse on a sunny day. It's a beauty so different from the deciduous pastoral landscape I fell in love with in college in Vermont. Worlds away from the Tuscan olive groves and Italian Alps that wowed me when studying abroad, and drastically different from the rides I used to do along ocean side cliffs in New Zealand. The Palouse may not be as spectacular, but it is home, it is special, and it is undeniably beautiful. I only wish that the weather had been such that I could have actually taken pictures that do the landscape justice.

As much as I love living and training here, I'm sick of being cold. SOOOO, next week I'm off to San Diego/Guatemala. Hopefully then I will be able to post some pictures that actually involve a variety of colors.

More training, some racing, and psyched for spring

The good news is that the snow has been clear from the roads since the beginning of February, even though it hasn't been completely eliminated from the forecast. The bad news is that it's still too cold to bike without many, many layers. But the fact that I can ride outside is ALL GOOD. I brought the camera along a few weeks ago but only captured a fraction of the shots I wanted to because when biking in sub-freezing weather and wind, stopping is not an option.

I love my local roads and rides. I am so lucky to have so many long, interesting, variable, and traffic-free roads. Granted, there are only a few months each year when the riding is comfortable weather-wise, but the terrain (did I mention that there isn't any traffic?) rocks.

After finishing the above ride last weekend, Aaron and I headed up to Vernon, Canada for the BC Cup Biathlon Championships. I meant to take a lot of pictures, because it was a very well put on event and a pretty venue to boot, but I only managed one shot wherein I hit the picture button instead of accidentally turning the power off. It turns out that I can spend 4.5 hours biking in near-freezing rain, but I am the worlds most pathetic biathlon spectator. Even when wearing 5 layers (including wool and down), standing on snow completely drains all heat from my body. Fingers and toes go immediately numb and nearly all enjoyment is zapped from the experience. Except of course, when Aaron has a good shooting bout or when Ole Einar Bjorndalen skis by. He was really there!

Since getting back from Vernon, the weather has been pretty crummy. Luckily, I didn't have very much riding to do, but I did have my first non-snow related race in a long while - The Snake River Canyon half marathon. I'm not going to bother with too many race report details except to say that it was beautiful down in the canyon with snow on the canyon walls and the occasional appearance of blue sky.

The course is flat, but wind is almost always an obstacle. This year proved to be no different with a truly formidable head wind on the way out and a tailwind on the homestretch. Last year was the opposite, and we fought a ridiculous headwind on the way back. So really, conditions were easier this year. I did go a minute faster (1:23), but it wasn't quite what I was shooting for, especially given the reduced, albeit very much present, wind. I have to thank(?) Nicole C. for pushing me harder in the last couple miles than I really felt like going at the moment.

Annie was accidentally registered in the wheelchair division, which led to a minor pre-race snafu. She's now bitter that she didn't get to stay in the division because she would have come home with some snazzy hardware.

One thing I love about the race is that a good number of Spokanites head down, and because it's an out-and-back course, I get to see a lot of people I haven't seen all winter.. We're all just so eager to get off of the treadmills and trainers. I wasn't terribly conversational during the race today, but I did get to reconnect with a lot of friends post-race.

...and we were off

loving the wind

It was a pretty spectacular drive home, with some serious wind, sleet, and hail. Apparently the winds hit 52 mph in town. I couldn't resist this shot. With 5-10 inches of snow in the forecast, it's looking like it's going to be a fun 3 hour ride tomorrow. Sigh. Someday greenness will return to the area and my veggie garden will do this again. I actually dreamed last night that Aaron let me dig up the entire backyard to make a bigger, sunnier garden. Given the work he has done on the lawn, I doubt it will transpire. Seasons are pretty amazing.

Souper Bowl Sunday

It's no secret that I'm not the world's most prolific blogger, but after a major triathlon I try to write up a race report within the month. Or two. Minor triathlons ("B" and "C" races) occasionally get a mention and cross country ski races almost never make the grade. Skiing is meant to be my antidote to competition. Occasionally while skiing, Aaron will tell me to practice my weak side V1 or suggest doing overspeed drills or intervals, and without much hesitation, I politely decline. I do want to become a better skier both technically and fitness-wise, but I don't want to treat going to the mountain like a training session. I want to feel smooth and fluid, go fast, see snow on trees, have fun winding down descents and enjoy a hot bowl of lentil soup at the end of the day. That might explain why I haven't improved a lot since I started skate skiing 2 years ago.

I'm also the kid who used to cry when my mom would beat me at Sorry or my brother at ping-pong, so I seek out competition even in the sport that I vow to treat non-competitively. "Souperbowl Sunday" is a benefit event for the Women's and Children's Free Restaurant at Mt Spokane that includes an a women's only 10km freestyle ski race. It was my first race 2 years ago, and I shocked myself by going out way too fast, crashing several times, but being so terrified of being caught while crashing or bonking that I went on to win the thing. And thus began the flow of competitive juices. The next year involved a bit more confidence, a few more races, and after winning every race I entered (no, these were not big Birkebeiner type events), I thought that was just the way it was going to be for me on skis. I didn't even have to do overspeed drills, and I could win.

For the race, I showed up at the Selkirk Lodge on Mt. Spokane in typically late fashion, was the 2nd to last person to register for the race (thanks Jayne for being more delinquent than I), and did a brief warm up. As I eyed up the start line I realized that my days of Souperbowl surpremacy were no longer secure. Deb Bauer, a local skiing legend who has raced in Leavenworth the past few years on Superbowl weekend was there, along with Allison Scott, who has been training really well and was testing several pairs of skis to find the fastest ones. Also in attendance were several members of the Jr. Nordic Racing Team. As is the standard, race director Robin announced that we would be required to double pole the 1st 20 meters or so - not my strength. Maybe I should have listened to Aaron's drill suggestions . . .

Naturally, I ended up behind the lead pack after the start and watched Deb pull away on the long, gradual climb that starts the race. I eased into the hill and gradually picked my way around a couple of people and set my sights on Deb. It required more focus than any skiing I've ever done before, but it worked and by the end of the first km I was sitting right on her tail scheming about when the best time would be to pass. I figured I'd take it easy for a few minutes and surge at some point on the back of Shadow Mtn. No matter, when Deb found out I was there, she put the hurt on and surged up the steeper part of Shadow, putting a gap in between us again. So much for my original plan. Onto Raven's Glide, a pretty, gradually rolling trail I tucked back in behind Deb, trying to pass, but could never find a place wide enough to get around. I was so close to getting around her on Hemlock, but Deb was savvy and knew how to hold the front position. My only option was to pass on the outside of a curve but being forced to take the longer route meant that I didn't have enough relative speed to pass. The only trail wide enough was Alpine and, knowing this, Deb hit it hard, and it took an amazing effort to stick with her. We cruised down the other side and past the finish to Brian's Hill. With less than 1 km remaining we had to go up and down a short, brutal hill. I decided to give it my all and just complete the pass to the outside, but ended up slipping in my frantic state. In that second, Deb put what I determined to be an insurmountable gap in between us.

I'm really frustrated with myself now for letting the race go in those final seconds when my legs and lungs were screaming "enough already." I shouldn't have listened to them. Around my head rattled a variety of stupid little thoughts "you don't need to hurt any more. . . you're an ironman triathlete, not a 10km ski racer . . . there's no way you can catch her in the last 100 meters . . . 2nd place is fine. . . Deb is more experienced and a stronger competitor. . . "
When it comes down to it, I'm not an xc ski racer, but I am a competitor and I lost that race because I wasn't willing to hurt when things hurt. Obviously, I completely respect Deb and know that she has and will accomplished way more than I ever will on skis, but I'm disappointed in my own chutzpah. I just need to make sure that the result is different if I'm faced with a similarly close finish in a triathlon.

After the race, I met up with Brian Southworth, one of our xc ski instructors through Fitness Fanatics, who had agreed to give me some classic ski pointers before next weekend's Langlauf 10 km classic race. In addition to being a phenomenal ski instructor, Brian can run with the best of them, and we spent about as much time talking race psychology as classic ski technique. It was a lot of fun! I don't expect huge things from next weekend, but I won't start with the kids in the back of the pack, so I should at least lop some time off from last year. Ultimately, I'm just looking to have fun :)

p.s. My Spokane Swifts teammate Jayne McLaughlin returned to xc skiing after two children and several years' hiatus to claim the title in the classic race. You'd be more impressed if you could see the outdated gear she was using. Nice job Jayne!