I'm a little sick. This whole weekend I had a sore throat and then woke up yesterday with a pretty bad cough (but thankfully no sore throat). I was feeling pretty crappy today, and it was cold and rainy but SOMEHOW I motivated myself to go to tri practice.
I ran there in the rain/cold. It really wasn't all that bad especially compared to what I have to deal with in Chicago, but it kind of sucks to be sick and wet and cold. I got there 10 minutes before practice is supposed to start and as I suspected - the French are fair weather athletes. We've had nearly 30 people at practice before... today we had MAYBE 10. The track team, which usually has upwards of 60, had about 20.
Based on our performances on the test last week, our coach figured out our paces and had specific charts for each of us. The workout, as I understood it, was 1000m followed by 5x200m. My coach told me to take the 1000m at 6:40 or better and my 200s between 1-1:03... so I ran the 1000m in 5:04. Whoops. So then my coach was like "WHOA TOO FAST!" and I tried to explain to him that I didn't understand the test last week and that my stats were inaccurate. To which he responded by telling me to try my 200s between 49-52 sec. Yeah, that didn't happen. I couldn't break 53, but by the end I was so glad it was over. Or at least I thought it was over until he said "ok, 3 minute break then do it again."
That second 1000m wasn't too awful, but was 16 sec slower. Then I took all my 200s at 57 sec. I didn't think I could finish all of them, but the coach was there... waiting for me to finish. It was rough and one of the hardest workouts I've EVER done, but thankfully it also resulted in a change in my test results. Now my workouts will be based around a max of 12.5 km/h (7:43 min/mile). Apparently I'm a LOT better at 1000s than 200s - which is not surprising. I literally have no ability for sprinting and no experience in short distance.
Then I ran home and looked at my garmin. I did a total of 2.9 miles at an average of 8 min pace! EEEEK And the run itself was just under 7.4 miles - longest in France yet.
Je suis crevé. I'm gonna go collapse now.
Tuesday, October 18, 2011
Thursday, October 13, 2011
Tri en France: Lost in Translation
Last week our coach told us we would be completing a running test, which I figured would suck about as much as any normal running test and I spent the whole week mentally preparing for a hard run.
When I got to practice, I was my usual freaked out self, but surprised to find that the whole team said hi to me, gave me bises (those little french hello kisses) and basically made it known that they were comfortable with/acknowledging me now. WIN OF THE DAY.
However, the female head count is back down. There is only the weird girl from the first day (who has at least started wearing slightly more athletic clothing...and who actually talks to me and who, I found out, is named Agnes) and the super fast girl from the week before, and, well me.
Our coach explained the run test to everyone and I didn't understand a word of it, something about cones and 8,5 km. I was lost and confused why we had such a LONG run test. 5-ish miles would take me around 45 min. Eek
After everyone headed out around the track to stand next to a cone, I asked him to re-explain it. Something about speeding up every time he blew the whistle and again... something about 8,5 km and paying attention to the people around you. We were staying in for as long as we could...? I can run for a really long time... What? As I usually do, I decided I would just go with the flow and follow everyone else after asking Agnes a few questions. She clarified that the distance was not set and that she didn't really understand the test either.
Agnes and I started at the same cone at a very very slow pace and I was super worried. HOW IS THIS A RUN TEST? But I looked ahead and the elite guys in front of me were barely jogging. Okay...so we make it around the first lap and I'm thinking, so should I go run with them? Then the coach sees me and yells "you're between two groups, slow down, wait up..." But... it's a run test? Ok so I slow down. Then Agnes says "oh, I get it!" after catching me and TAKES OFF. Now I understand that the point is to stay with Agnes but she has dropped me hard core and I am working to catch her. I finish my second lap and still haven't caught Agnes, so the coach tells me I'm done and pulls me off the track.
I walked off, not feeling the least bit like I had just done a running test, or even worked that hard for that matter and he looks at me and says "You've never done a test like this before, have you?" I, of course, say no, that I usually do 30 min tests for distance. He tells me I didn't do poorly, but I simply don't believe him. Then I spend around 17 minutes waiting for the rest of the team to finish and after another lap, I begin to understand the test:
There are cones assembled around the track at every 50m. Each pair started at a cone and you start at a speed of roughly 8,5 kmh (which is very slow - for all you Americans -which is probably all of you- that's an 11:20 mile). Each time he blows the whistle, the team increases their speed as a whole around the track. The objective is to maintain that 50m distance between the group in front and behind you/stay with your partner (if you had one). Mind you, we're increasing speed about every 50m - so each cone. Just by a touch, but nevertheless increasing. Once you get your speed up high, the challenge is well, the pace, but also that you have a few miles (well, km) on your legs and it's harder to keep pushing faster. The longer you can stay in, the higher the speed you were able to maintain.
At the end he figured out some calculations. I'm not sure if it was our max speed in the test, our estimated race pace for an hour, or our estimated max capability, but what I DO know is that mine was an 8:33 mile. WHICH if it is my estimated race pace for an hour... would be pretty accurate, BUT I'm thinking that it was my estimated top pace in the test, which is actually a joke. So, that practice was an overall failure, and I only ended up running for a total of 26 minutes (of which the first and last 10 were warm-up/cool-down) so I decided to run home, which pleasantly was mostly uphill and was a nice hard run.
Yesterday I finally got my distance up above 6 miles (woo hoo!) and tested out a new route. It was a slow run, but it was my longest yet in this country to prepare for that race. Speaking of which, got an email from the directors that said I need a doctor's note. Seriously France? I promise I won't die running 8-ish miles. Well, guess I'm going to have to figure out that one now...
After being disappointed with my slow run yesterday, I decided to seek out the pool and finally get some swimming in, only to find it's closed for cleaning. Not my week for athletics.
When I got to practice, I was my usual freaked out self, but surprised to find that the whole team said hi to me, gave me bises (those little french hello kisses) and basically made it known that they were comfortable with/acknowledging me now. WIN OF THE DAY.
However, the female head count is back down. There is only the weird girl from the first day (who has at least started wearing slightly more athletic clothing...and who actually talks to me and who, I found out, is named Agnes) and the super fast girl from the week before, and, well me.
Our coach explained the run test to everyone and I didn't understand a word of it, something about cones and 8,5 km. I was lost and confused why we had such a LONG run test. 5-ish miles would take me around 45 min. Eek
After everyone headed out around the track to stand next to a cone, I asked him to re-explain it. Something about speeding up every time he blew the whistle and again... something about 8,5 km and paying attention to the people around you. We were staying in for as long as we could...? I can run for a really long time... What? As I usually do, I decided I would just go with the flow and follow everyone else after asking Agnes a few questions. She clarified that the distance was not set and that she didn't really understand the test either.
Agnes and I started at the same cone at a very very slow pace and I was super worried. HOW IS THIS A RUN TEST? But I looked ahead and the elite guys in front of me were barely jogging. Okay...so we make it around the first lap and I'm thinking, so should I go run with them? Then the coach sees me and yells "you're between two groups, slow down, wait up..." But... it's a run test? Ok so I slow down. Then Agnes says "oh, I get it!" after catching me and TAKES OFF. Now I understand that the point is to stay with Agnes but she has dropped me hard core and I am working to catch her. I finish my second lap and still haven't caught Agnes, so the coach tells me I'm done and pulls me off the track.
I walked off, not feeling the least bit like I had just done a running test, or even worked that hard for that matter and he looks at me and says "You've never done a test like this before, have you?" I, of course, say no, that I usually do 30 min tests for distance. He tells me I didn't do poorly, but I simply don't believe him. Then I spend around 17 minutes waiting for the rest of the team to finish and after another lap, I begin to understand the test:
There are cones assembled around the track at every 50m. Each pair started at a cone and you start at a speed of roughly 8,5 kmh (which is very slow - for all you Americans -which is probably all of you- that's an 11:20 mile). Each time he blows the whistle, the team increases their speed as a whole around the track. The objective is to maintain that 50m distance between the group in front and behind you/stay with your partner (if you had one). Mind you, we're increasing speed about every 50m - so each cone. Just by a touch, but nevertheless increasing. Once you get your speed up high, the challenge is well, the pace, but also that you have a few miles (well, km) on your legs and it's harder to keep pushing faster. The longer you can stay in, the higher the speed you were able to maintain.
At the end he figured out some calculations. I'm not sure if it was our max speed in the test, our estimated race pace for an hour, or our estimated max capability, but what I DO know is that mine was an 8:33 mile. WHICH if it is my estimated race pace for an hour... would be pretty accurate, BUT I'm thinking that it was my estimated top pace in the test, which is actually a joke. So, that practice was an overall failure, and I only ended up running for a total of 26 minutes (of which the first and last 10 were warm-up/cool-down) so I decided to run home, which pleasantly was mostly uphill and was a nice hard run.
Yesterday I finally got my distance up above 6 miles (woo hoo!) and tested out a new route. It was a slow run, but it was my longest yet in this country to prepare for that race. Speaking of which, got an email from the directors that said I need a doctor's note. Seriously France? I promise I won't die running 8-ish miles. Well, guess I'm going to have to figure out that one now...
After being disappointed with my slow run yesterday, I decided to seek out the pool and finally get some swimming in, only to find it's closed for cleaning. Not my week for athletics.
Tuesday, October 4, 2011
Tri en France: HR malfunctions and (NOT)Men's Track Practice
Good news: My ankle is generally doing better, which is pretty sweet and I'm excited about that. A few days ago I went out for a run and that didn't go so well because I was having this pretty bad chest pain that I've gotten a few times this summer. My coach is a little freaked out by that so... we'll see where that goes. More good news though, today with the French triathlon team I didn't experience any pain at all and I was working at some pretty crazy HRs (I looked down once and was at 181) so I'm feeling less scared about that.
The nice thing about this practice is that there were 5 more girls there!!! One was really good and I got the idea she was dating one of the guys on the team. She looked very legit and then proceeded to keep pace with the b-level boys for the workout. The middle 4 of us are all pretty close in pace and we were pretty much together for most of the workout. The other seems completely new to exercise and didn't finish much of the workout. We're a motley crew we are, but at least we're a crew!
The workout wasn't the best of my life, but I can't expect to come back fast off a week of misery and rest.
The nice thing about this practice is that there were 5 more girls there!!! One was really good and I got the idea she was dating one of the guys on the team. She looked very legit and then proceeded to keep pace with the b-level boys for the workout. The middle 4 of us are all pretty close in pace and we were pretty much together for most of the workout. The other seems completely new to exercise and didn't finish much of the workout. We're a motley crew we are, but at least we're a crew!
The workout wasn't the best of my life, but I can't expect to come back fast off a week of misery and rest.
Thursday, September 29, 2011
Tri en France: Le maillot jaune
Warning: I'm on the keyboard in the center which makes for tough typing. French keyboards are weird. This will not likely be a long entry.
My ankle is doing better, BUT not great. I decided it was good enough to ride yesterday which it WAS except I was having some serious issues clipping out of the pedals for SOME reason so the extra force it took to get my cleat out wasn't exactly helpful to the ankle. In the end it was on a 45 minute ride and some guy yelled at me out his window, though I'm not really sure why or what he said. It's a lot easier dealing with that in France because I literally have no idea what they're saying and I just tell myself they don't know how to deal with people on road bikes (because they don't) and move on to the open shoulders of big old scary roads.
Despite the fact that my ankle is a little better it's still not the greatest and I'd rather not push it since I've got an 8-ish mile race at the end of October that I need to get back to training for ASAP. So that 45 minute ride has been all my exercise this week aside from some corework and girly push-ups (because I can't put that much weight on my ankle, and let's be real I can't attempt one-legged push-ups... not that cool). So you know, if you can't do a sport, why not read about it?
Thus, I have come close to the end of Lance Armstrong's bio It's Not About the Bike. You know, I'm disappointed in the fact that when I finish this book, I will put it down and say "Wow, that guy is a jerk. Talented, but a jerk." You would think someone's autobiography about how they had cancer and suffered through sustaining life would make you sympathize in some way. I have never seen/heard such a prime example of using people and treating them like absolute crap. I'm shocked that he admits acting the way he did/does, unapologetic and only somewhat appreciative to the people who patiently worked with and for him along the way. I think there are a lot of really abrasive aspects to Armstrong that grate on readers of this book. Overall it has been an interesting read, but I have to say I'm not proud that Lance Armstrong is an American athlete. I'm not proud that he holds 7 wins in the Tour de France. Especially after the EPO allegations which his teammates, whom he considers his close friends in this book, confirmed this year, I don't think I would ever wear a single article of Livestrong or Mellow Johnny merchandise.
My ankle is doing better, BUT not great. I decided it was good enough to ride yesterday which it WAS except I was having some serious issues clipping out of the pedals for SOME reason so the extra force it took to get my cleat out wasn't exactly helpful to the ankle. In the end it was on a 45 minute ride and some guy yelled at me out his window, though I'm not really sure why or what he said. It's a lot easier dealing with that in France because I literally have no idea what they're saying and I just tell myself they don't know how to deal with people on road bikes (because they don't) and move on to the open shoulders of big old scary roads.
Despite the fact that my ankle is a little better it's still not the greatest and I'd rather not push it since I've got an 8-ish mile race at the end of October that I need to get back to training for ASAP. So that 45 minute ride has been all my exercise this week aside from some corework and girly push-ups (because I can't put that much weight on my ankle, and let's be real I can't attempt one-legged push-ups... not that cool). So you know, if you can't do a sport, why not read about it?
Thus, I have come close to the end of Lance Armstrong's bio It's Not About the Bike. You know, I'm disappointed in the fact that when I finish this book, I will put it down and say "Wow, that guy is a jerk. Talented, but a jerk." You would think someone's autobiography about how they had cancer and suffered through sustaining life would make you sympathize in some way. I have never seen/heard such a prime example of using people and treating them like absolute crap. I'm shocked that he admits acting the way he did/does, unapologetic and only somewhat appreciative to the people who patiently worked with and for him along the way. I think there are a lot of really abrasive aspects to Armstrong that grate on readers of this book. Overall it has been an interesting read, but I have to say I'm not proud that Lance Armstrong is an American athlete. I'm not proud that he holds 7 wins in the Tour de France. Especially after the EPO allegations which his teammates, whom he considers his close friends in this book, confirmed this year, I don't think I would ever wear a single article of Livestrong or Mellow Johnny merchandise.
Monday, September 26, 2011
Tri en France: out of commission. Tune in next week
Sometimes you sprain your ankle while trail running and they tell you you can't run again for 15 days and then laugh at you when you ask if you can swim.
Then they give you a big ugly and generally unnecessary brace.
Guh. Until I break free from injury jail...
Then they give you a big ugly and generally unnecessary brace.
Guh. Until I break free from injury jail...
Saturday, September 24, 2011
Tri en France: Monster hills, road work, and round abouts
This is a short one about my second ride in France. There's a ton of road work, so once again I spent about 25 minutes just trying to figure out how to get to a main route. Finally I found another cyclist!! Literally the FIRST other cyclist I've seen on my rides, and the second I've seen in general. (By cyclist I mean someone on a road or TT bike clearly treating it like a sport). This was a good idea (as it usually is in unfamiliar territory), but I lost site of him after I got stuck at a light while he beasted it up a hill. Still, it took me over some REALLY BEAUTIFUL pavement and took me to somewhere I knew, so I took the EXACT route as yesterday, but kept going and following signs to Angers.
I'm getting better at taking round abouts. I've learned to stay WAY on the outside and have faith that the cars will not kill me because that ruins their day AND mine. I definitely felt a lot less scared for my life. On the way out, this ride felt great, and I was cruising along for the middle portion at 20-22 mph. Then the scenery started to become beautiful and I was pushing up a LONNNGG but not too steep hill at about 14 mph, chilling with some goats. All of a sudden there was this HUGE downhill. I mean huge. Then I looked ahead and its sister CLIMB was staring me in the face.... after my nice long climb there. That was NOT happening, but I was already screaming down the hill, geared out, going 32 and BRAKING. Immediately after the end of the downhill, this identical climb was going to happen and I knew I could not make that climb, turn around, and then do it again, so I decided to pull over in the approximate 2 meters of flat road that I had and wait for the traffic to clear so I could turn around. Mind you... I had just geared out and had problems getting my bike to go slow enough to stop. Once on the other side of the road, I picked up my rear wheel and shifted to the easiest gear. I told myself "this is going to suck, but just push through it."
So once their was a break in traffic, I got on and started climbing at 9 mph. Yeah. Cool. I got so far into it and for the first time in my life on a ride I had to get off and walk the hill. It was just insane. My heart rate was through the roof and though my legs were hanging in there, my HR was not. haha
If anything, I will get some serious hill experience in this country. The day when I stop freaking out on that down hill and make it through those hills twice, I will be once powerful cyclist. That day, however, is not today.
I'm getting better at taking round abouts. I've learned to stay WAY on the outside and have faith that the cars will not kill me because that ruins their day AND mine. I definitely felt a lot less scared for my life. On the way out, this ride felt great, and I was cruising along for the middle portion at 20-22 mph. Then the scenery started to become beautiful and I was pushing up a LONNNGG but not too steep hill at about 14 mph, chilling with some goats. All of a sudden there was this HUGE downhill. I mean huge. Then I looked ahead and its sister CLIMB was staring me in the face.... after my nice long climb there. That was NOT happening, but I was already screaming down the hill, geared out, going 32 and BRAKING. Immediately after the end of the downhill, this identical climb was going to happen and I knew I could not make that climb, turn around, and then do it again, so I decided to pull over in the approximate 2 meters of flat road that I had and wait for the traffic to clear so I could turn around. Mind you... I had just geared out and had problems getting my bike to go slow enough to stop. Once on the other side of the road, I picked up my rear wheel and shifted to the easiest gear. I told myself "this is going to suck, but just push through it."
So once their was a break in traffic, I got on and started climbing at 9 mph. Yeah. Cool. I got so far into it and for the first time in my life on a ride I had to get off and walk the hill. It was just insane. My heart rate was through the roof and though my legs were hanging in there, my HR was not. haha
If anything, I will get some serious hill experience in this country. The day when I stop freaking out on that down hill and make it through those hills twice, I will be once powerful cyclist. That day, however, is not today.
Friday, September 23, 2011
Tri en France: Rocco's first Ride
Today Rocco and I set out for our first adventure. I debated taking a camera and then decided not to because I didn't really intend to stop.
I had done some googling and I figured that the best thing to do was ride along the Loire. So the first thing I set out to do was find the Loire. CHECK. Then I was getting confused about whether I was supposed to ride east or west, but I knew the Loire was south of my house and the Atlantic was west so I went east. I think.
First I found this awesome deserted road. I mean, it was neither completely deserted nor totally awesome. It was a little chopped up and had some sand on it that made me nervous about handling, but if anything went wrong it was unlikely that I'd hit a car because there were about 5 for... 5 miles. Some parts were very cool because I rode through some forest and later under some tiny little bridges. Eeek.
But as most good things do, it came to an end and I was back on a busy road riding through some random city. There are lots of signs that have bikes with slashes through them which to me means I can't ride there.... but then there are bike lanes on the other side of them...? I don't really know, but I generally stick to the bike lanes and ignore the signs because they confuse me and it doesn't seem like anyone ELSE pays attention to them.
After that I decided to follow some signs towards Angers. Then I ended up on a highway.... which is apparently allowed in this country? Cycling on highways... uhh ok. Nonetheless, it freaked me out so I got off after a few minutes and found a round about where I could turn around and follow signs back to Nantes. (This is about 40 minutes out.)
So I'm back on a very busy street (though not a highway) following signs back to Nantes, and apparently my nice convoluted route out could be literally cut in half, because I was home in 20 minutes. Soon enough, I began to realize that was completely necessary because as soon as I got off the bike my abs were throbbing in pain. It was one of the worst little "episodes" of ab pain I've gone through, but as we know I get those. I'm starting to just get used to them at this point and I really think they're just from fatigue.
I had done some googling and I figured that the best thing to do was ride along the Loire. So the first thing I set out to do was find the Loire. CHECK. Then I was getting confused about whether I was supposed to ride east or west, but I knew the Loire was south of my house and the Atlantic was west so I went east. I think.
First I found this awesome deserted road. I mean, it was neither completely deserted nor totally awesome. It was a little chopped up and had some sand on it that made me nervous about handling, but if anything went wrong it was unlikely that I'd hit a car because there were about 5 for... 5 miles. Some parts were very cool because I rode through some forest and later under some tiny little bridges. Eeek.
But as most good things do, it came to an end and I was back on a busy road riding through some random city. There are lots of signs that have bikes with slashes through them which to me means I can't ride there.... but then there are bike lanes on the other side of them...? I don't really know, but I generally stick to the bike lanes and ignore the signs because they confuse me and it doesn't seem like anyone ELSE pays attention to them.
After that I decided to follow some signs towards Angers. Then I ended up on a highway.... which is apparently allowed in this country? Cycling on highways... uhh ok. Nonetheless, it freaked me out so I got off after a few minutes and found a round about where I could turn around and follow signs back to Nantes. (This is about 40 minutes out.)
So I'm back on a very busy street (though not a highway) following signs back to Nantes, and apparently my nice convoluted route out could be literally cut in half, because I was home in 20 minutes. Soon enough, I began to realize that was completely necessary because as soon as I got off the bike my abs were throbbing in pain. It was one of the worst little "episodes" of ab pain I've gone through, but as we know I get those. I'm starting to just get used to them at this point and I really think they're just from fatigue.
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