Dora the Explorer

When I first meet this young Mexican girl it was with my 3 year-old nephew. She was cute, she had a lot to offer. NOW—she is known as “Dora the Bitch”. Yeah I know, harsh, but this little girl can push you to limits you will never be ready for.

Here’s why:

In spin class Matt brings in his daughter’s Dora dice. One dice (1-6) tells you how many minutes you will go. The other dice (1-5 with a wild card) tells you at what level of pain you will be experiencing. I can’t believe our bad luck on this game—level 5 for 6 minutes several times in a row—it sounds more like she is rigged. Your luck would be better if you were in Vegas—not Maple Grove.

Ok. I complain, but it’s a love hate relationship. Overall, it was a great class.

Last night I went to the Plymouth gym to run (yeah, I’m still doing that—something about a 5K this weekend in Hamel) and to lift weights. While I was quickly changing, tossing my hair up into a ponytail, bobby pinning my shorter pieces of hair back—I look over and what do I see? This one girl doing her hair like she is going out on a date! A few minutes later, I’m making my way to a treadmill and guess who I was running next to? Hair girl!! Yeah, she spent several minutes doing her hair—spraying it, primping—to RUN! WTF? Why? I give her points for running at a faster speed then I was expecting, but…come on!

Tomorrow is what Matt would call an epic spin class. 3 hours with Greg—nice, calm guy out of the gym, drill sergeant in the gym. Pray for me. I’ll need it.

Oh a happy note: the route has been announced for REGBRAI. It starts in Council Bluffs and stays south—great all hills. Hills + 2 hour Beer stops every 15 miles = Pain + buzz kill.

First Half Marathon

Miles: 13.1
Time: 2:28:45
Average speed per mile: 00:11:22
Temp: -5
Windchill: -20

Late Friday evening I found out the frozen half was cut in half. One of my conditions was if they lowered the mileage I was not going to do it. To be on the start line in St. Paul at 9AM for 6.55 miles was not worth my time. Thankfully I didn’t pre-register. Although, I was still determined to run the distance on January 24th. Why not wait until warmer weather you ask—good question…I just wanted to get it done. So, I called my friend Dan—who is a runner and per my peer pressure was going to do the frozen half also—to go out and run the full distance anyways on our own course. He said ok.

We met at 11am—it was a whole 5 degrees warmer (like you can really tell)—and drove down to Lake Calhoun for our 13.1 mile run. Using his nifty GPS watch he kept track of the distance, avg speed, and time. I just following his footsteps while watching my heart rate creep into zones I hoped it wouldn’t hit until later in the run.

First stop (or should I say walk—no stopping on this run) was around mile 5.5—ugh things were not clicking. I wasn’t getting into the groove. I blame the weather, running with someone—I always run alone, and going out of the gate too fast. First mile was nine and a half minutes—this was too fast. I couldn’t keep that for 12 more miles.

We went past Paul’s school (also known as the DBR King)—the place I took my swimming lessons, over the Mississippi on Lake Street, down Riverside road. Oh how I wished I had my bike then…running at a snail’s pace is not the same when we tend to fly down that road on our Stone Arch rides in the summer. We went past the Ford plant—didn’t realize that was there—and then figured we better backtrack a bit to the bridge we past (we thought there was another birdge up ahead). Heading back to Lake Calhoun into the wind—will stick with me for a long time. The wind was so harsh and the bridge was icy. I had my balaclava pulled up as high as I could, closed my eyes just enough to see my footing, and just tried to get over the bridge as fast as I could without falling.

2.6 miles left—another walk was needed. This was the point Dan reminded me that this run was a payback for a 30 mile bike ride I took him on this summer on the MT bikes (he’s never done more then 15 miles). We were on the home stretch—sort-of. We had about 1.6 miles to the car so we had to make up that extra 1 mile. We heading down this path next to one of the lakes—I wasn’t sure if that was a good idea since we both said that we would stay clear of any open areas (i.e. a lake) but I was feeling good and the wind wasn’t so bad. UNTIL, we turned around and had to run back into headwind. OH CRAP—that was by far the coldest wind we experienced. My balaclava was pulled down to my chin—little did I know that I wouldn’t be able to use it any more—the thing froze solid from the wind.

Once we were out of the wind I noticed we were close to my real goal of 2 ½ hours. I asked Dan how much further did we have to go—.5 miles!! I asked him if we could do it in 8 minutes—his response was “only if we hull ass now.” I don’t feel like I hulled ass—but I picked it up and came in 1 minute 15 seconds before my goal. I wanted to dance for joy that I did it and that it was over—but I was so cold and I just wanted to get warm and dry as soon as I could. Thankfully Dan started his car on that last half mile so it was nice and warm when we jumped in.

F the weather—I’m doing it.

I did not do all of this training and complaining for the weather to hold me back. Yeah, it will be cold. Yeah, I’ll question my intentions and insanity level several times—but I’m still going to run a ½ marathon tomorrow if that means I go out on my own.

I committed to this event to not only challenge my physically and mental compactly. Although, I never thought the mental challenge would be the main challenge.

The key to survival will be not to stop—no matter what. If I stop, hypothermia.

1000+ feet of elevation

WTF? 1094 feet of total elevation change was not what I said yes to in September. Next time—North Dakota. At least then I know that the elevation would be 0.

Monday night I went out for my last long run knowing at the time I would have a hill or two (little did I know) so I did hill work. Believe it or not there are a number of hills in Wayzata. Somewhere between Lake Street and Wayzata Blvd it’s straight up. Surprisingly I felt good, heart rate was low, and thought 4 long climbs was probably enough since I had a steady elevation left on my way home.

At one point, while running up a hill in the middle of the street, a cop drove past. He didn’t stop to tell me I was unsafe, but I could just image what his reaction could have been. Since it was MLK day the stores were closed and I was the only one in that area not in a car.

3 days to go!

5 day until the gun goes off

Five days, FIVE DAYS! One—two—three—four—five days until the half marathon. I’m not freaking out or anything…ok I AM!

Tonight I’ll do my last long run before the event, but for the next Five days I will be a nervous wreck. Am I ready? How will my body handle that distance? I’ve never gone this far. Am I going to bonk? If so, at which mile marker?

My motto for the past two years has been “Ignorance is Bliss”. This weekend I went with a friend to the Wild game—which by the way is a snore compared to college hockey—and drove part of the course. I went against my motto…I don’t want to know the course. I’m ok with “there is a big ass hill at the beginning you go down and then you have to go up that big ass hill—which feels like two blocks going down and five blocks going up.” That’s all I need. I don’t need to be scoping out mile marker 10’s bushes—cause that’s where I’ll probably be visiting for a while.

I know a lot of you do 13-point-whatever miles for fun on a weekly basis, but there was a time that I couldn’t make it ¾ of a way around a football field without moments way from passing out. As many American children I grew up battling Asthma, not the kind that if I take a few puffs of the inhaler I’ll be good. No, the kind that would cause you to start hyperventilating out of no where and would put you in the hospital in a hyper chamber for a few days. As I grew older, with the help of pushing myself through exercise especially on the bike (sorry for the scare sometimes to my fellow riders)—my lungs have expanded, but they are not like most. The muscles in my legs can handle the endurance, but will my lack of getting enough oxygen cause my heart rate to skyrocket? Yes, but how high and can I endure it for about 3 hours? We’ll see.

If you don’t have anything to do next Saturday and are in the St. Paul area, I would LOVE to see a friendly face. If I can pull the shirt over my many layers I’ll try to wear the Team Strong Heart jersey. The roads are clear if you want to bring your bike.

Coldest day in 5 years

And that is just the air temp.
Windchill is around -35 degrees.

I think the calendar is wrong

There are only 10 days until my ½ marathon. Ugh—I don’t feel ready!! My goal is 3 hours—I know, too much but there is a goal! :)

I was told that I need to break my 10 mile barrier and do 11 miles this weekend for my training. I don’t have those fancy tech items that tell you how far you’ve gone—but I’ve gotten pretty good at guessing pending on the time and my average speed how far I’ve gone. Turns out I did 12 miles that day (with about a mile of walking towards the end).

I learned a few valuable listens—or should I say reminded myself of things that I should already know.

1. Stay at a constant pace don’t go out of the gate faster than the pace you will settle into—doing this won’t use up your stored energy and won’t skyrocket your heart rate out of the gate—i.e. you’ll have more energy for a longer period of time.

2. Remember Matt’s motto—“No need to check your heart rate monitor. Once you taste bile you’re going too fast.”

3. DON’T FORGET YOUR FOOD!—10 miles is pushing it without anything, more than that will have you hurling in the bushes 2 miles from the finish line. I forgot my gu packs at home.

I just received an email today from Laurie, who was going to be my partner in crime in this expedition, that she would rather go tubing instead. WTF??? Ok I admit going tubing sounds 100% more fun than running a half marathon—but this was her idea! Oh well, it’s not like I would see her during the run. I’m still going to do this thing, I’ve committed to it—i.e. I told too many people that I was going to do this that I can’t back out and go tubing. In the end, all this bitching and moaning about the training has to be for a reason.

First ride of 2009

I met up with about 10 LSC (and former LSC) guys for the 318 ride Saturday morning. 318 is a coffee shop in Excelsior were the group meets and then rides to Dunn Brothers downtown—about a 40 mile ride. 90% of the ride is on trails and they all ride a cross bike with studded tires.

I rolled up with a MTB, no studded tires. With this combo I was asking for it. It wasn’t the fear of falling, since I tend to do that no matter the riding condition, so the ice didn’t concern me. My biggest concern was keeping up with them on the MTB. I’m no Fat Tire Neil—who, if you don’t already know, can school all the roadies on his King Bee.

Turned out, keeping up with them on the MTB wasn’t the issue. Feeling a little too confident a half mile into the ride—fishtailing but keeping full control—that I wouldn’t be eating snow…I ate snow. Everything happened so fast. One second I was looking at Jordan’s back wheel the next second I was in a fetal position on the ice.

I got up as fast as I went down, still in shock, not sure if everything was intact (aside from my pride). When everything started to come back I noticed the bike had just as hard of an impact as I did which knocked my feet out of the clips and the bike slid across the path to the other side.

The rest of the ride towards downtown wasn’t that bad, but because it took so long to get out there the ride back was a bit more nerve-racking. The hard snow started to become a bit more soft exposing the ice and causing both of my tires to slide around with the few degree increase.

While reflecting upon the ride icing my new bruises, I learned—don’t think you can ride on icy trails without the proper tires.

Ibuprofen is my new best friend

Well, I bonked in spin class. It was bound to happen—bonking, that is, sometime in 2009, but come on—in spin class—on the first day of the new year?! The same place YOU control the incline and speed and are still able to stick with the group?

Here’s what lead up to this tragic event:

Wednesday was Jody’s class. Jody wasn't able to make it something about bribing her husband Tim into leading her class. Probably saving her energy for the 2 hour New Year’s class—great! What did she bribed him with? Well...we didn’t ask cause we didn't want to know—too personal. Us regulars were not worried when Tim walked in that we wouldn’t get a good butt kicking—cause we know we would!

Thursday (New Years) we had a two hour spin class mostly focused on rolling hills with Jody and Matt. I got there a bit early—ok really early—to get my bike. It’s new years and it’s a two hour class—it was going to be crazy! I put my stuff on my bike and thought I would get in a little run. Nothing fast, keeping the heart rate low, but I had time so I ran for an hour on the treadmill. I thought I might get lucky and have super human energy to run and do a two hour class—apparently not. Half hour into the class I bonked. Pizza, beer, coffee, and candy were dancing in my head. Matt gave me a few odd looks throughout the 2 hours probably due to the look of pain on my face.

This morning was Matt’s Friday class—yep another spin class. Why not? Cause I was still able to walk. After more climbing, the Wheel of Destiny was brought out—new game. Thank goodness Dora (the dice game) stayed home—she can be quite mean. Depending upon the number it lands on determines how hard and for how long the workout is going to be before we get a…15 second break before the next spin. I admit, I was praying a few times for that needle not to land on certain areas. In all, we did 33 minutes of standing climb during a 60 minute class. There has been talk about Sunday’s 90 minute class—209 or 2009 jumps. Not sure which one, but does it matter? That's still a lot. Epic? More like torture.

I got the Kline ready to winter ride. It didn’t take much—a few tweaks, installed tubes in the tubeless tires, and found my courage. I’m set. Now—where do I ride? Call me, text me, facebook me, IM me, email me, or leave a note on this blog if you’re in. I think I covered all forms of communication.