Gym Workout

Four days into a symposium in Madrid, and I finally had the chance to use the free hotel gym. This may be the best foreign hotel gym I've seen, as they actually had free weights! Also a multi-machine, although one cable was broken so I was quite limited on it.

Numbers are in kilos, because it's Europe and stuff.
4kg = 8.8lbs
8kg = 17.6lbs
10kg = 22lbs
12kg = 26.4lbs
14kg = 30.8lbs
16kg = 35.2lbs
20kg = 44lbs
24kg = 52.8lbs
28kg = 61.6lbs
30kg = 66lbs

(reps) 1st set / 2nd set / 3rd set

(10/side) DB Row @ Bench Plank: 10kg / 12kg / 12kg
(10) DB Front Squat: 12kg x2 / 14kg x2 / 14kg x2 [on the shoulders]
(10) Ball Roll-out: 10 / 10
(10) Lat DB Raise: 4kg x2 / 4kg x2 / 4kg x2
---60secs REST
(10) Lat Pull-down: 30kg / 30kg / 30kg
(10/side) Russian Twist: 14kg / 14kg / 14kg
(10) DB Incline Bench Press: 8kg x2 / 10kg x2 / 10kg x2
--60secs REST
(10) Push-ups: 10 / 10 / 10
(10/side) Lateral Lunge: 12kg / 14kg / 14kg
(10) Biceps Curl: 8kg x2 / 8kg x2 / 10kg x2

Walked out of there totally wobbly-legged, and couldn't walk well or sit down until the other side of the weekend. Worth it.

--Duration: ~60mins

Pool Swimming

Hey, I got a workout in while visiting Poland! On our final night, both my mom and one of my cousins put in an order for swimming, and we went to a private pool resort place they have a membership at to use the 25m sport pool. The resort is Stacja Nowa-Gdynia just outside of Łódź, built on top of a pond and housing every kind of sport facility you can think of. It's quite expensive, but fine for one night.

Warm-up:
100m easy/
50m finger drag / catch-up
50m easy
4x 25m hypoxic (2/2/2/1 breaths)

Felt I needed some speed work, so just did a bunch of 100m. The problem is that everybody in Poland swims breaststroke! They do call it "styl klasyczny," which shows how much respect the thrashy freestyle gets... The lanes were segregated by speed, but only officially. The fastest lane had some decent young breaststrokers, most of the time. Here were my crappy times:

1:50

1:55 on 3:00
2:00 on 2:55
2:00 on 2:50
1:57 on 2:45
??? on 2:40 - why? because I tried to pass a middle-aged lady doing, you guessed it, the breaststroke in the fastest lane - got into a head-on collision with another ... breaststroker.
1:55 on 2:35
1:51 on 2:30

Well, that's pretty bad. But at least I got faster as I went along. Totally exhausted.

--Distance: 1,300m
--Duration: <1hr, as that's what we paid for, including the time it takes to change!!

Gravenhurst Olympic Triathlon

First ever attempt at an Olympic distance triathlon. And first ever DNF! How exciting!

Photo c/o segwun.com

The defining feature of the Gravenhurst races is the swim start from the Muskoka Steamships, a pair of tourist boats that cruise the Muskoka lakes. You jump off the boat 1,500m off-shore and try to swim back. It's kind of a neat idea, although it does not allow for any swim warm-up, as waves of racers get forced off the boat in quick succession. And because ladies always start last, we really felt quite rushed - like they were making us walk the plank at sword-point. I was in the water for about 20secs and barely paddled to the start buoys before the whistle went off.

Garmin Tracks

The swim was long and tedious for me. I felt really sluggish, and I had a hard time seeing the buoys. Seems I put on a helluva extra distance. The wetsuit really didn't help. The run to transition was quite long, through the marina buildings and across the main road. I was re-energized to get on the bike, though, for my first 40km race, and on a challenging course too. It was after 9am at that point, but the day was already stifling hot and muggy.

I started running my bike out of the TA, but I heard this awful squeal. A volunteer asked me to check my breaks, but they were totally fine and well-adjusted. I kept going, passed the exit gate and did a perfect flying mount onto my clipped-in shoes. Unfortunately a couple of revolutions in, the squealing from my rear tire became unbearable. I got off, pulled the bike to the side and started to investigate. Turned out that my rear wheel had sunk deep into the profiled seat tube, and there was no space between them. I took the wheel off, put it back on, repeated a bunch of times, but it was no use. The mount line crossed the swim run-in, and the RD was standing there cheering people on, so I approached him. I was hoping he could authorize some official assistance, but all he said was, "Oh, it's your set screws. Looks like your bike is done." I didn't even know what that meant until later, or how easily I could have fixed it right then and there. I asked him if I could still do the run unofficially, and he told me to hand in my timing chip and wait till the run course was opened before heading out on the run.

My sense of humour - tracks for milling about the TA

Handing in my chip to the Triathlon Ontario official was a real bummer. I re-racked my bike in the lonely TA, put on my run gear, grabbed my food and drinks, and went off to find some shade. What followed had to be the most boring 60-90mins of my life. There was quite literally nothing going on at the race HQ. It was now oppressively hot, and all the friends and family, volunteers, merchants, and relay team members were huddling under any piece of shade they could find, unable to move. Once in a while, the race announcer would make a lame attempt at a break with monotony, but really she was speaking to no one. Now I understood how my race buddy ML's girlfriend felt when waiting for him at the Wasaga Oly last year. A courageous woman.

Aaaaand my speed during what should have been the bike ride.

I had calculated that I could safely get out on the run course at about 2:00 into the race so that I wouldn't interfere with the dynamic of my AG. I also rightly guessed the approximate times when the winners would go through, and when ML would show up - right on time despite the conditions! I decided not to cheer him on, as he'd probably be perplexed and worried about what the hell I'm doing in transition.

I had been hydrating like crazy the whole time, which was a bit of a mistake. I started out on the run and immediately earned myself the worst stitch ever. I hobbled and walked until at least the 2km mark, which was really like getting kicked when you're already down. Finally started running again when my club-mate SC caught up to me. She had been faster than me on the run at the Woodstock Sprint, so I didn't want to mislead her by taking off at a faster pace; I told her I skipped the bike ride so she shouldn't let me pace her. At this point, I had much respect for anyone who could do this 10km run after the sweltering hilly bike course. Up to the turnaround, I still felt fine, but on the way back I really started to fall apart. I just wanted to finish this run because my next attempt at an Oly would be in Bracebridge, also a hilly Muskokan area, and quite possibly just as hot. I had turned this into a training run.

I got some praise from ML for continuing on the run even though it was unofficial. But I just wanted to get as much of my money's worth as possible, and I couldn't shy away from the difficult conditions if I wanted to do a good job in Bracebridge.

Swim: 34:53 / 2:20
T1: 2:51
Bike: -
T2: -
Run:  59:26 / 5:57

The times are quite dismal; kind of glad they are unofficial!

Open Water Swim

The OWS with my club are way too early at 6:30 for me to be able to rush down from work 40km away in parking-lot traffic. But I tried this time, as our temporary coach Kyle was going to do a clinic, and because I needed some wetsuit time ahead of my Olympic tri this weekend. I got there with 15mins left, sigh.

Kyle reiterated that we should glide over our shoulder and avoid too much high turnover on the strokes. I did a short lap with the group before it was all over, but decided to stay and do one more full buoy-to-buoy and back. The suit wasn't as restrictive as the last time I tried it, but I still seemed out of breath. But when I managed to hold the forward-quadrant stroke, I really felt much faster.

Clocked the wetsuit removal again, this time with ML's advice to sit down while pulling the legs off. Down to 1:05, not too shabby. Might employ the cooking spray at the race.

--Distance: ~750m
--Duration: dunno

Garmin Update: El Satellite Dish was at my door earlier today, but the shippers did not indicate on the customs paperwork that this was a warranty exchange, so I'm being dutied and taxed for over $60. Nuh-uh. Calling Garmin to resend the paperwork.

Running Intervals

My first running workout in a number of months. I had a prescription from my chiro, haha. I was to do a short intervals set and go to the clinic the next day just in case I'd ruined my hip.

I was very disappointed to see from the official race photos from Sunday's sprint that without training, my legs have reverted to their old wayward ways - knees buckling inward and a pronounced heel strike. So my warm-up run involved a lot of stride correction, which felt really weird after all these months.

After I'd run to the waterfront trail, I did my usual dynamic warm-up and set my interval timer to 10x 1min on/off, not really sure how many I'd get through. Sprinting on the toes wasn't as hard as jogging, but going through the whole stride motion was awkward. I imagine I just need more practise again.

I managed 4x 1min for <300m each. On the last run, my throat was giving me problems from the hard breathing, and since I'm just starting to get over my cold, I didn't want to push it. Jogged back home with a number of short accelerations throughout, which felt great. A steady bounding stride seems most comfortable to maintain.

--Distance: 3.8km
--Duration: 30mins

Garmin Update: Replacement El Satellite Dish is in the mail and may get to me by tomorrow!

Huronia Sprint Triathlon

I got a really bad head cold just before this race. I had been away for a few weeks with almost no way of training, and with my first ever Olympic-distance tri the following weekend, I really meant for this Sprint to be a warm-up both physically and mentally. But by the time I got to my parents' place in Bolton (to cut the trip to Penetanguishene short), I could no longer breathe through my nose and was running a major fever.

I woke up somewhere in the middle of the night gasping for air and seriously reconsidering doing this race. But I was also terrified of attempting an Olympic, in hilly Muskoka no less, without any training for nearly a month. I spent several hours tossing and turning and going back and forth with pros and cons. Suddenly, in a feverish dream, in the mists of dawn, a light bulb went off in my head. I always use NeoCitran (or a similar dissolving acetaminophen-based hot drink) to nurse myself back to life when I have a cold. I always complain about how sweet these drinks are - half the powder is pure sugar granules. But I would need a sugary drink on the bike anyway! Why not just cook up some of this mix, cool it down, and throw it in my bike bottle? I'd have cold medicine and sugar at the same time!

It was done; I mixed the mix and got on the road to Midland. There was a Kids of Steel series and a Give-It-a-Tri happening before our race, so I slowly and sleepily set up my gear as a bunch of speedy kids rushed by on their run course. I was so overheated and woozy. Everyone was pulling on their wetsuits, but I figured if I did wrap myself in neoprene on top of my fever, I might burst into flames. I waded into Penetang Bay, and I swear steam came off me. Right before the race, I downed a Tylenol pill along with my start gel and took off.

The waters of Penetang Bay deserve honourable mention. It's so weedy there, that you actually can't see the bottom at all. It's its own special biosphere down there, and really cool to see once you get over the constant gentle caresses of the weeds. If you try to stand in it, you will sink another few feet down through the vegetation and never hit bottom anyways. I just remembered my roomie's old mantra of getting through weedy waters, "They love you! They're caressing you with LOVE!"

I had tried to practice my mounting/dismounting tricks ahead of this race, but it turned into a bit of a disaster at the mount line. I jumped on but could not get my feet onto/into the shoes and totally stalled out! Had to get off, get out of the way, and try again. How embarrassing. Thankfully the photographer was further down!

The swim probably did a lot more for cooling me off than the pills did. I still wasn't able to breathe through my nose at all. I found myself wheezing heavily through my mouth. But I had nothing to lose here in my condition, so I hammered hard through the 20km course. It started up a hill to get to the plateau above the bay, but I gritted my teeth and got to the top. I don't remember much of the flat ride, just that I pushed hard without a care in the world, other than constant sips of my life-juice full of NeoCitran. When I got back to the final downhill, I was way too scared to go into aero to take advantage of it. I saw one 55+ lady whoosh past me in full aero - she was at the bottom in mere seconds. Must be nice. But somehow I passed a few people on this section anyway, so without knowing it, I was now in 3rd place.

The run course was essentially flat except for a short light uphill at the start. I was really focused here. Still sounded like I would need to be resuscitated in short order, but I can pull off a decent run no matter the circumstances. I did not see a single other 30-34 runner along the course, which made the race seem really lonely. Where was everyone? I knew that I was either doing really well or really really badly. Because I had no idea where I was, I just managed my pace like any other 5km race. I took Heed at every one of the very well-spaced aid stations. I had transitioned to a kind of mouth-nose wheeze at this point. In the final straight-away and downhill, I picked out some targets for kicks, caught them, and passed them. This included a male IM Florida finisher, whom I handily out-sprinted to the finish.

I somehow had a good feeling about this race. I collected my stuff, but came back from the car just in time for the awards. I made sure to be out of the free burger line when our age group came up. They called my name! I was 3rd! Wow. In my condition. I was so thrilled, but actually I think because I was so messed up, I wasn't nervous about my performance and just went all-out to the best of my ability.

So. Many hours later. At home with my medal. I suddenly had a thought. That NeoCitran doesn't just have acetaminophen in it, does it? There's some other junk in the formulation. I pulled out a packet: 60mg pseudoephedrine. That doesn't sound good! A quick perusal of the WADA Prohibited Substances list, and lo! pseudoephedrine is quite obviously on the list under stimulants. It is "prohibited when its concentration in urine is greater than 150 micrograms per milliliter." Admittedly I have no idea what kind of concentration I could clock by drinking maybe half of my mix over the course of 40 minutes, but let's face it: I had this stuff right on the bike during the race.

In the frenzy around Lance Armstrong's doping allegations, I read one article about how out-of-competition doping has become so sophisticated, there is no longer a need to use during competition - so if you fail an in-competition drug test, you're basically failing an IQ test! That actually made me laugh at myself.

Obviously there are no drug tests in this small local race series, and I obviously didn't mean to do this on purpose (although that's not exactly a sound argument!) The only thing I can say is that the person in 4th place was a full 8:31 behind me on this short sprint course. Her bike time was 48:46 and her run was 26:53, which I cannot imagine clocking under the worst possible circumstances, especially not on my racing bike. The medicine didn't clear up my fever, and I couldn't breathe properly the entire time. So I'm quite confident that I wasn't appreciably helped by the 30-60mg pseudoephedrine I might have ingested.

But I still feel really bad about it on principle. I will obviously never do this again. Or I will try never to implement any brilliant ideas I might have in the early hours of the morning while my head is on fire and I'm drowning in snot.

Swim - 17:39 / 2:22
T1 - 1:38
Bike - 43:00 / 27.9
T2 - 1:24
Run - 24:27 / 4:54

	S	T1	B	T2	R	F
Place in Discipline	5	2	2	4	3	3
Place in Real Time	5	6	3	3	3	3

--Distance: 25.75km
--Duration: 1:28:05

Open Water Swim + Bike Transition Skills

I'd been mildly feverish for days, and finally succumbed to a cold, but the Huronia Sprint Triathlon was ahead, so having rested all week, I went out to Cherry beach at the end of the day to get in a short swim and practise my mount/dismount skills.

The water was warm, and because I didn't anticipate using my wetsuit at the sprint, I didn't bother practising in it either. Just swam once there-and-back along the buoys, partly to cool down my fever! About 650m total. Felt pretty good. Only screwed up sighting once.

Then went out onto the Martin Goodman Trail to practise the shoeless skills. The trail from Cherry winds a lot, so I just used it as a warm-up and ended up doing the skills out on Unwin closer to Leslie. I was really jittery. Probably a combination of being out of practise and sluggish from my cold. I kept riding back and forth and not wanting to dismount! Eventually I did, and it was pretty smooth. Mounted and dismounted a bunch of times, but was really worried about doing it during the race. I told myself I'd make the call at the race site.

Got some elastics, but not sure if they're flimsy enough to break...

Pool Swimming

For our last two pool workouts, we've moved to an outdoor pool, so no pace clock. My dear Spartan racing friends dropped me off and waited for me, as we were quite delayed coming back in from Ottawa. A good friend will not let you miss a workout!

Warm-up:
100m easy
200m drills, alt. catch-up / zipper
100m easy
4x 25m sprints

2x 750m broken up and faster pace on each one, 1min rest:

400m / 200m / 100m / 50m

On the first set, it was difficult to increase pace without losing my breath or my new stroke technique. The second time around, I could breathe much more easily, and I accelerated more easily.

Cool-down: 50m easy

I checked-in with Kyle about over-gliding, but he said that the way I do it, my glide will never be too long.
My two friends watched the second half of our class and compared all the various techniques people used. CK said that he thought my entry was excellent - that I break the water without any splash. Yay! It doesn't feel that way, but I think relaxing my hand has helped.

--Distance: 2,050m
--Duration: 60mins

Open Water Swim

With legs wrecked from the Beast, and all of us walking like Cotton Hill, I pitched a relaxing OWS in Mooney's Bay, the site of Ottawa's Iron-distance triathlon taking place in September.

The beach is pretty wide, with a line of buoys about 320m long. The water is quite murky, but it's nice soft sand and basically no weeds (except a floating one that attacked me halfway through!) It was really warm, so I did not bother to cram myself into my wetsuit.

I swam once each way, although I was quite out of breath after the first length and wanted to just walk back, LOL. Seemed longer than it was! Practised some sighting too, but wasn't really on. I did manage to hold the new stroke most of the time though.

In the meantime, my friend CK was giving stroke tips to ES, and I think totally wore her out - but she looked really smooth in the water by the time I got back to their end. For me, he just mentioned that I roll more when I breathe than otherwise, which I can definitely tell too.

Took a few snapshots of the beach and in the direction towards the race transition area for a friend racing here in a couple of months. Unfortunately the website does not provide an outline of the swim course, so couldn't take photos of the sighting lines.

It was great to jump in the cool water before embarking on the long, traffic-heavy trek back to Toronto, and our stiff muscles needed the recovery too.

--Distance: ~640m
--Duration: I dunno...

Bungee Jump

I'm terrified of heights. So terrified that I still remember a gallery show I had to install in 2002, where I could not get up to the third rung on a ladder without my knees buckling. I think it was '03 or '04 in another show, where I managed to install a floor-to-ceiling sculpture all by myself, and I made sure there was photo evidence of me on top of that ladder!

I've been putting myself in situations that would help me practise relaxation and overcome my fear ever since. In 2005, I clambered up the treacherous Angel's Landing in Zion Park in Utah, hanging onto chains and trying not to look down the 370m sheer wall to the bottom. In a 2009 adventure race, I begged my teammates to let me be the one to complete a high ropes course, with a zipline at the end. In 2010, I went skydiving and loved the freefall, but was nauseated by the parachuting. It seems the closer to the ground, the more I suffer! It took a lot of breathing the first time I rope-climbed a small cliff, belayed by a very experienced friend; it was a few pickax runs up a frozen waterfall in Mont Tremblant in 2011 before I was comfortable enough to really relax and trust my harness; my 30th birthday took place at an indoor climbing gym, and I still felt like I was conquering demons each time I got closer to the ceiling.

Bungee jumping is something that I swore I'd never do. Not because it's not safe, but because it is so close to the ground, and you have to actively jump off into oblivion. I didn't think I could ever bring myself to do it. My racing buddy ES had been nudging me for months, and when we realized we'd be in Ottawa for a Spartan race, she immediately pitched that we go to the Great Canadian Bungee, the highest jump in North America at 60m, situated over a quarry lake, with the option to dip your head into the water! I said, "I'll pay for it, but doesn't mean I'll do it."

The ominous tower under ominous clouds

For weeks leading up to the jump, she and the rest of our race/jump crew were teasing me about it. Every time I thought I'd managed to forget, they'd remind me again. When we drove past the quarry the day before on the way to the Beast, I refused to even look at the tower. I didn't have much choice the next day at registration, and they even had a live video feed of the jumpers playing at the desk! Thankfully we had signed up for a "warm-up run" on the Rip-Ride zipline, which also runs over the quarry, and is actually much shorter than I pictured. I've learned to take things in small steps, and still refusing to believe that I'd do the bungee jump itself, I looked forward to the horizontal ride instead.

Imagine our delight when we found out that we had to trek up a hill with our harness in tow to get to the jump towers. I arrived at the zipline just after MK, who was all strapped in and was being lowered into a horizontal position as the tower gate slowly opened. I'm glad I got to see that so I knew what to expect. Once strapped in, you get lowered face-down towards the quarry, and they just let you go. I was buoyed by the fact that I wasn't scared at all on this ride, and I just enjoyed the beautiful view on the ride across. "Wheeeeee!"

We had arrived a bit late and technically had to get squeezed in later for our bungee jump, so we waited at the scenic lookout. I finally allowed myself to watch as sucker after sucker took the plunge off the end of a long crane and into the lake, swinging this way and that way, nearly crashing into the quarry wall from our vantage point. All my friends planned to get dipped in the water, which I thought was extra-crazy. But everyone else there was doing it... Our turn finally came to join a group of about 10 people, and away we went back up the hill, then up the vertical steps of the jump tower. I'm a firm believer in symbolic talismans, so I had donned my original Soldiers of Fitness training t-shirt, which had gotten me through so many apparently insurmountable obstacles in the past.

The first staff member we met told us that we would be sent off in order of weight, with lightest going first. Um, that would be me. I had actually toyed with the idea of volunteering to go first, not just to get it over with, but because that conscious decision would somehow help me make the decision to step off the tower. Well, not much of a decision now! He explained that for those going into the water, you should break the surface with your arms overhead, chin down. Also, if you really wanna get wet, do a more forceful jump. What do I need this information for??

He then asked me if I wanted to go in by my ankles or by my waist - if you're gonna go, do it right! Ankles it is. He strapped me in, and I took the long walk out along the crane, shuffling my feet like a condemned prisoner in leg-irons. I didn't really say goodbye to my friends because I didn't want to get any looks of pity or encouragement. I would have to jump by myself, so it was time to disconnect from all support. The few hours we'd spent on site and the ride on the zipline had actually really taken the edge off my fear by now, but I still didn't allow myself to think too much about what was ahead.

At the end of the crane, two other friendly staff put me into a secondary waist harness that clicked into the ankle straps. They asked if I wanted to get dipped. I answered with a resounding, "umm... I dunno... maybe? Yeah? I dunno..." I'd soon find out how they chose to interpret that! They tried to small-talk me, but I couldn't concentrate. I only had one task ahead. The whole process was very quick. They each checked all the straps and carabiners, verbalizing everything and giving me all the confidence in the world in the equipment and in their skills. I would be totally safe doing this jump, and the only fear left would be my fear of heights itself.

They had me shuffle to the edge. I looked down for the first time at the beautiful blue water below. I had no worries. I let my rational mind prevail; I knew I'd be safe. In those few seconds, I realized how much I'd wanted to jump and feel the freefall. I wasn't excited, just serenely happy. The boys gave me a loud five-second countdown, and...

Watch for my adorable kicking feet!

I just let go and fell away from the tower. As with skydiving, that first second when you're not touching anything, and before you really start to accelerate, is the most wonderful feeling you can imagine. It's freedom. It's bliss. If only I could capture that feeling of weightlessness and hold onto it for a bit longer.

But the earth starts coming up real fast, so much so, that the picture in your mind gets broken up, like a camera with too few frames per second. I saw the water very close, I felt the pull of the cord, and I hit the water. In no time, I was pulled back up to about 50m, and I briefly couldn't get a breath in. I started spinning like crazy, or rather, the quarry started spinning around me! I had tried not to yell, but what the jump does to you physically makes that kind of impossible. After a few more bounces, I started to relax and enjoy the gorgeous view again. I remember yelling, "it's so beautiful!!!"

The bungee finally settled down, and a little pontoon boat motored in as I was lowered towards the water. Still upside-down, I was plucked from the air, and collapsed in a dizzy heap on the bottom of the boat. I couldn't be happier.

I wobbled onto dry land in time to see ST jump next. Then a bit of a wait until the rest of our peeps got their chance, everyone with a different style coming off the tower. I was feeling a bit sick from what is really quite a rough ride. But I was thrilled.

I had looked down off the tower, and I'd stepped off. Just like that.

-------

Oh, so when the staff on the bungee tower get off their shift, do you think they climb back down the stairs, go all the way around the quarry, and back down the hill? Nuh-uh.