Category Archives: Keeping Fit

Exercise and Silent Sports

Tri Training – Open Water Swim

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It’s been hanging over my head all week. Ever since getting to the cabin I’ve been peering out at the lake knowing I was going to have to tackle it. I needed to do an open water swim. But I was also nervous. It didn’t help that my son, Erik, and his girlfriend, Katie, who I consider to be hardy youth, reported that the lake was “really cold” and declined to swim.

wpid-Photo-20140706181238.jpgFirst the wind and the waves provided an excuse. Too wavy to swim. Too cold. Too cloudy. (Too scared, really.) But then came a relatively calm and sunny afternoon. I knew my options were dwindling, screwed up my courage and recruited Rich to come out in the kayak as my safety boat. Too late to back out now – I had to do it.wpid-Photo-20140706181239.jpg

Surprisingly, the water was quite swimmable. It was brisk to be sure, but I’ve suffered worse in that lake. It felt strange to be wearing a swim cap and goggles – something I never do in the lake – and I tried to ignore the now-visible weeds as I passed over them. It’s really better not knowing.

At first it seemed like the distance was insurmountable. I needed to do .93 miles to mimic the triathlon distance. I had thought that swimming to the campground beach and back would be enough, but it turned out I needed to swim even beyond that. Not a good feeling. But as I fell into the rhythm of my strokes and relied on my long distance lap swimming, I felt as though I could manage it.

161-D5-TriAtheleteStaying on course was tricky, and I had to figure out how to lift my head to peer out and spot my destination up ahead. It definitely was a disruption to the cadences of my swimming. I’m sure there are tricks to doing it more efficiently. In addition, I already knew that I had a tendency to drift left when I swim. Rich tried to counter that by yelling “Point!” to try and curb my corkscrew curves. I do so hope they have some bright bouys in the race to help keep me in line.

The waves proved to be a challenge, as I expected. I was swimming into a mild quartering headwind on the way out, with the waves hitting my breathing side. I know I should be able to breath equally well on both sides, but I’ve never pursued that. Now I get why it’s important. But I survived. And turning around to swim with the waves was sweet!

My biggest fear was succumbing to the cold of the water, getting too chilled to swim effectively. But even with my skinny body, I was able to retain enough body heat to swim comfortably. The whole way. Yea! If I could handle North Star Lake’s cold, I should have no problem in Lake Nokomis.

Completing that swim was a huge boost to my confidence. I now know I can do it. I was even more pleased to learn that it was only 5 minutes over my pace in the pool – not bad for all the extra obstacles I figure. Of course, I was all alone out there. No other swimming bodies to dodge or churning water to navigate. I will leave that for race day. At least I’ve conquered the open water.

Tri Training – Doing Doubles

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lifetimetri-sq-logoIt’s just over two weeks until my first triathlon.  I am such a novice at this, and I am making up my own training plan as I go.  If you can even call it a plan.  But I kind of like it that way.  I’m not out to break any records, I just want to feel good in each leg of the race, stay safe and finish.

So far my training has consisted of making sure I get in ample amounts of swimming, cycling and running.  One at a time.  I have no problem over-achieving on the distances for each sport.  But this is a 3-sport race.  That’s a whole lot different.

So now I’m into doing doubles.  Apparently in triathlon lingo this is called a “brick.”  The logic of that name escapes me.  I’ve been cycling to the swimming pool, doing my laps then taking a long bike ride.  Granted, there’s quite a gap while I navigate the locker room, get back to my locked bike in the parking ramp and head out again.  But at least there is some semblance of a 2-sport combo.  Doing a bike/run sequence is better.  My changeover in the garage is more race-like, but I’m not very speedy.  Even so, I get the idea.  Legs really don’t want to stride after circular pedaling.  They wobble perceptively and I feel like I’m going nowhere.  But miraculously, things seem to straighten out after the first 1/2 mile.  Once the runner in me takes over, I don’t even feel the bike ride.  I think I may be making some progress.

That still leaves the open swim factor.  All my swimming miles have been in a pool, and I know the smooth water, designated lane with a line on the bottom and stealing a rest at the turns are a far cry from swimming in a lake.  That has me worried.  I’m hoping to remedy that next week, swimming in our lake at the cabin.  If I can stand the cold water, that is.  This darn cold summer just isn’t helping matters.

Having gotten this close to the race, I decided it was time to figure out just how one does a triathlon.  There is a plethora of material on the internet on the subject, and my head is already spinning from all the advice.  The lists of things to bring and the tips for transitions are enough to scare me away.  Until I remember my goal – feel good, stay safe and finish.  My transitions may be inefficient, but all that matters is that I get from one sport to the next.  Right?swimbikerunThis really is a whole lot more complicated than running a marathon.  Maybe next I’ll have to move things up a notch, and try a triple.

 

Should I Tri?

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I’ve been asking myself that question for several years now.   Having added cycling to my arsenal of sports activities, which already included swimming and running, I just couldn’t ignore the idea that I should do a triathlon.

Molly diving in poolMost people fear the swimming portion the most.  But in my case, that was my first entry into distance sports.  It goes way back to the days of a country club swimming pool, being a little squirt on the swim team, and spending years doing laps to get my 100 mile trophy.  When I put on the Freshman 10 (or so) in college, I turned to swimming to slim down again.  And I’ve kept it up ever since.  So in theory, I have that bit licked, as I regularly swim IMG_59661 3/4 miles for my workout.  But those are laps in the pool.  A whole lot different from open water swimming in a lake surrounded by a lot of flailing arms and legs.  Hmmm.

On to running.  I took that up when the kids were little and I could squeeze in a run on my lunch hour without giving up family time.  Naturally 10Ks quickly led to a half-marathon, and on to marathons.  Running has become my primary sport.  So I’m not at all worried about that.IMG_1482 trimmed

That leaves cycling.  Since taking up cycle touring a couple of years ago, I have logged many a mile on my bike.  And on our trips I tote 26 pounds or more of gear for days (sometimes months) on end.  Yeah, I can manage the distance on a bike.

The components are all there.  I just haven’t taken the plunge to put them all together.  Yet.

That’s all about to change.  I might have procrastinated forever, but my son, Erik, called my bluff when he gave me the “entry to the triathlon of my choice” for Mothers’ Day.  So come July 12, I will be out there swimming-biking-running at the Lifetime Tri in Minneapolis.  Wish me luck. I’m going to Tri my best.

Marathon – Not!

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IMG_0894Despite the dark skies last evening and pouring rain, we were hopeful.  Even though the thunder boomed throughout the night, we stayed positive.  Driving to the start in rain and moderate thunder, we still planned to race.  We knew we were going to get wet – really wet – that was a given.  But still we were excited.  This was Katie’s first half-marathon and we planned to run together for that distance, then I’d continue for the full marathon.

We had a trusty support crew to cheer us on.  My son Erik (Katie is his girlfriend), and Katie’s mom had devised a plan to cover the Minneapolis Marathon course with their two cars.  If the rain cleared, Rich planned to follow us on his bike.  We were all set to go.

Our first inkling that things were not going well was the 1-hour delay.  Fortunately, we were able to wait it out in our cars and stay dry.  We sat and watched as the parking lot filled up with cars, but the eerie thing was that no one got out of them.  Not a runner headed for the start line as we awaited the next update on the race.

IMG_3200.JPGWhen the 7:00am update didn’t come, and time grew closer to the new 7:30 start time, we had little option but to don our garbage bags and head for the start.  There were plenty of other racers doing the same by then, and the rain even let up for us.  The starting chute seemed to be sparsely populated, and it lacked the excitement and energy that usually builds prior to the race.  The atmosphere was shrouded in uncertainty instead.  But we still clung to the belief that soon we would be running down the road, with many miles to cover.

7:30 came and went, and still the same somber crowd waited.  By 7:40 we really began to wonder.  About five minutes later, we saw streams of runners walking back the other way from the start.  Word spread quickly that the race was cancelled, but there was no official announcement – nothing to tell us that this big race was not going to happen.  It was such a non-event that we wondered if it was real.  But soon we had to face the inevitable, and accept that it had indeed been cancelled.  The crowd was surprisingly quiet as we made our way back to the parking lot.

WP_20140601_003With plenty of pent up energy, Katie and I decided we would run home. Sprinting away from the race venue it felt good to be pounding the pavement and doing something after all the time we’d spent waiting.  We pressed our speed, going faster than either of us has run all spring, pouring a marathon’s worth of miles into a shorter, faster distance.  Erik proved to be a trusty cheerleader, meeting us at points along the way with offers of water and Clifbloks for our “race!”  And we crossed the finish line at home, breaking the tape he’d constructed at the end  of the driveway.

Word came only after the fact that race officials and police were concerned about recurring thunderstorms and flash flooding, and made the decision for the safety of the runners.  I’m sure it’s a very tough call to make, and I support their decision to weigh in on the side of public safety.  I have to say, though, that it’s been hard to see the weather stay on the clear side for the remainder of the day.  Just being honest.  I’m sure the marathon folks are equally frustrated.  Better luck next time.

 

T-minus 2 days to Marathon!

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Honestly, this part is hard.  All the training is done, the miles and long runs are behind me.  I’m as ready as I’ll ever be, and now I’m forced into “taper mode.”  For someone who’s used to running and pushing the limit every day, holding back is torture!

My last long run was a 20 miler two weeks ago.  It IMG_4214 trimmedwas made infinitely more bearable by running it with my daughter, Karen.  Although we’re training for different marathons, we both had the same long runs to do.  It was my last 20 miler, her first in the training regimen.  We set off together and used the time to good advantage, keeping up a constant conversation.  We covered a lot of ground and finally caught up on each others’ lives.  It was worth the 20 miles to have the time together.  Really.

This week I’m supposed to be resting.  Doing short runs, taking days off and gathering strength for the big day on Sunday.  It’s not working very well…  I’ve decided I am not going to sacrifice living for the sake of shaving a few minutes or seconds off my marathon time.  So although I’d already run this morning, I hopped on my bike this afternoon – it was just too nice not to!

Now it’s a mind game.  Checking the weather forecast.  Wishing I hadn’t.  Thunderstorms are not my preferred running conditions. Neither is heat.  Even this morning, the temperature in Duluth was a sunny 45 degrees as I set out for my run.  Minneapolis is predicted to get into the 80s on race day.  My body is not ready for heat.

I’m looking forward to the Expo tomorrow.  Packet pick-up is always an infusion of energy and excitement – the first surge of adrenaline for the race.  I love walking up to the table with registration packets, under the Marathon heading.  The big one.  That’s for me.

This is my first marathon in almost three years. And I’m ready.  Minneapolis Marathon, here I come.Minneapolis Marathon logo

 

Whatever the Weather

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We runners are resilient.  No matter the weather, we are out there pounding the pavement, putting in our miles.  And those of us living in Duluth are especially so.  We have to be, as the seasons here hold no loyalty to the calendar.  So although this is the height of the marathon training period, it’s not exactly shorts and t-shirt weather.

weatherMentally I planned to do my weekly long run today.  Never mind the fact that tomorrow’s weather looks to be beautiful and sunny and my calendar is open, my inner control center said it had to be today.  This morning.  Early.  Because I like to run first thing in the morning.

I awoke to what sounded like water.  Was it rain?  The falls on Amity Creek?  Wind?  Crossing my fingers, I arose to find that the rocks next to the house were dry – a good start.  The rest of the word was enveloped in a heavy fog, but it was not precipitating.  And my weather app said rain would not show up before noon.  That was enough for me – I was going.

Fog turned out to be equal parts mist.  The closer to the lake I got, the heavier it was.  But it wasn’t raining.  I had the proper clothing, and blessed my wind mitts as I pulled them on to keep my gloves dry.  The scenery wasn’t spectacular, but there were other small compensations.  The street cleaners had been out, clearing the shoulders of grit and sand on the Scenic Highway.  My running and cycling personae thanked them for that.   Traffic was light, and I certainly didn’t have to dodge other runners.

Doubling back to the Lakewalk, I found more company.  Folks were out running and walking.  Even a bike or two passed by.  Greeting one another as we passed, some exchanged conspiratorial glances with me that acknowledged the craziness of our pursuits in the drippy weather.  Others appeared as if it were a fine day, totally unaffected by the local conditions.  Somehow my fellow damp athletes validated my choice, and I pressed on in the belief that I’d be glad I stuck to my plan.

On my return from Canal Park the weather gods took pity on me.  The wind dropped and the fog lifted.  The mist had dried up.  It was almost decent weather.  I willed my legs to keep churning, clocking off the miles and setting mental milestones in the distance.  As I logged miles 19 and 20 I thought of my daughter doing her long run at the same time in the Twin Cities.  My virtual running partner carried me through.

Make no mistake, when I reached our driveway, I was glad to be done.  I made it back before it rained, and maintained a decent pace.  I was still warm, and relatively dry.  And  I could check off one more long run before my race, the Minneapolis Marathon.  All that despite the weather.

 

Marathon Madness

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Marathon running.  It’s addictive.  And catching.  I’ve managed to rack up 15 of them, more than half at Grandma’s Marathon, so when my son and daughter signed up this year I couldn’t help but feel the urge to join them.  But there was a catch – we were invited to an out of town wedding that day.

By that point, I was mentally hooked.  Disappointed that I couldn’t run in the same race with them (after all, half the fun is the camaraderie), I could still run a marathon.  Enter the Minneapolis Marathon.  Never mind that it’s 3 weeks earlier than Grandma’s, and my training window was already short.  I could also ignore the never-ending winter in Duluth that wreaks havoc with getting in daily runs.  And I could justify it on the premise of adding another unique marathon to my collection.  I wrestled with the idea for weeks.  Finally, with a registration price increase looming the next day, at 11:45pm I did it.  I registered.

Minneapolis Marathon logo

So far, no regrets.  I love having it out there as a goal, creating a purpose for my runs.  And admittedly, a reason for long training runs.  (I’ve always said that marathons are the perfect excuse for those obsessed with running!  Yes, that would be me.)  With just one month to go, I’m feeling good.

This is my first marathon since retiring.  What a difference – no longer do I have to shoehorn in my long runs.  If the weather doesn’t cooperate on my designated day, I just pick an alternate day or time.  I’ve also managed to time a few trips to the Cities to do a long run with my daughter.  Spending hours on the run is always much more enjoyable with company!  I know better than to try and run with my son – my goal for finishing is at least an hour longer than his.  But we still compare notes and cheer each other on in our training.  We may not all be in the same race, but we’re in this together.

Yes, I’m looking forward to toeing the start line.  Am I mad to do this?  Perhaps.  But I’ll be in good company.

Annual Rite of Spring

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Does two years running make an annual event?  I’d like to think so.  For the second year in a row, Rich and I have been lured up the North Shore for our inaugural spring bike ride along the lake.  All it takes is a good weather forecast, plenty of warm sunshine and that glistening blue water.  Oh, and the disappearance of snow.  Or most of it, anyway.

By coincidence we chose a Monday exactly one week earlier than last year’s ride.  But the conditions were strikingly similar.  The temperatures were in the 50s and the wind was off the land, avoiding that cold lake wind chill factor.

IMG_3830We decided to ride from Gooseberry Falls State Park to Beaver Bay and back again.  That section of Lake Superior was ice-free near the shore, so we were able to enjoy views of the open water at its finest.  Conditions on land were not quite so uniform.  Wherever the sun shone, the ground was bare.  But shady areas still had an abundance of snow, and deep in the woods winter still reigned.

The same held true on the Gitchi-Gami State Trail.  Wherever it paralleled highway 61 and had plenty of sun, it was clear.  But where it dipped down toward the lake and snaked through the woods, the bike trail was buried in snow. We hopscotched from trail to highway shoulders as conditions warranted.  Fortunately, there was little traffic to bother us on a spring weekday morning.

IMG_8113With the spring runoff, the rivers and streams were in prime form.  Gooseberry Falls was a rushing torrent, with water gushing over the rocks in a thunderous roar.  Along the shore, water forced its way over the stone cliffs, forming spontaneous waterfalls where normally none exist.  Ordinarily the Beaver River is barely noticeable when driving over the bridge, but that day it was hard to miss the teeming water.

IMG_3832The whole premise of this early spring ride was to enjoy the journey.  Since we had few miles under our wheels yet this season, there was no point in trying to press for speed.  And the novelty of the warm day just begged for lingering.  All the better for taking in the sights along the way.  No trip up the Shore is complete without stopping to admire Split Rock Lighthouse.  And we had to stop for IMG_3834Adirondack Chairs – just like in Gaspé!

The only thing missing was an ice cream break.  I’m still not sure how we let that happen.  We will have to improve on that next year.  On the first balmy spring day.  The 3rd annual rite of spring.

 

 

 

Mid-Winter Perfection

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The latest snowfall resulted in a rapid accumulation of 6″ or more. It easily wiped out all signs of the melting that had been going on the last few days, as well as the resulting ice. Before 5:00am we could hear the thrum of a diesel engine idling just up the road. That meant that the groomer was out on the ski trails.

Never mind that this was the third day of spring. Nor the fact that I’d already declared I was hanging up my skis for the season. The opportunity was too good to miss. What I didn’t bargain for was the fact that the temperature had plummeted overnight. Two degrees registered on the thermometer. Really? All the layers I’d banished to the bottom of the drawer came back out again. I even popped toe warmers into my ski boots. And with a fierce wind blowing, I didn’t regret a single item.

Perhaps it’s not too surprising that there was not a car in the parking lot, nor a single ski track on the virgin groomed trails. Who else would be out on this cold spring day before the sun was fully up? Shivering ever so slightly I set off, confident that the relentless uphill climb at Lester would help warm me up.

DSCN0169The woods were blanketed in snow, and the trail was firm and fresh. The crusty snow and ice that I knew lay beneath the new powder were deeply buried, as if the dicey spring skiing conditions of a few days earlier had never existed. The sun spread long shadows across the snow from its low angle, too weak yet to shed any warmth. But it was pretty.

DSCN0166Even my tiny camera protested the cold by shutting down soon after I extricated the cold metal object from my pocket. Baring my fingers to the brutal cold, I learned to snap quickly to get one picture before it realized its battery was too cold to function.

I had conveniently forgotten how slow the snow is when it’s that cold, and there was little glide to my skis. But I pressed on regardless. I even continued for a second lap around the trail system. This wasn’t about setting speed records. And I was no longer training for races. I could just ski for the sake of enjoyment.

If I ignored the calendar, I could relish the perfection of the conditions, fooled into thinking what perfect winter skiing it was. Sometimes it’s best to live in the moment, oblivious to the seasons.

Of Summits and Snowflakes

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With my stay at Snow Mountain Ranch drawing to a close, I wanted to make the most of the time I had left. My final day of work I was scheduled for an afternoon shift, which left me plenty of time to get in a decent ski earlier in the day. There was only one major trail that I had not yet skied, so imagine my delight to find that it had been groomed that very morning. Others had broken trail with back country skis, but that didn’t appeal to me, and this was the first time it had been groomed in two months. I set my heart on completing the trail.

My first hurdle was the advice I received from more experienced skiers in the Nordic Center. They warned me of the steep terrain and difficulty of the climb. I hadn’t fully grasped the fact that this trail rose 2,000 feet in elevation! Learning that I didn’t plan to bring any food and drink, they pressed a granola bar on me and I left with some doubts.

When I reached the turnoff for the Blue Ridge Trail, it did indeed climb. But I decided that I’d pursue each leg of the switchbacks and go as far as I could. As it turns out, the trail did climb relentlessly, but the climbs were not steep. And as long as I stopped periodically (okay, frequently) to catch my breath, I was able to continue. To further spur me along, the higher I got, the better the views. Feasting my eyes on at least 180 degrees of mountain ranges was inspiring, and further excuse to pause along the way. The grooming was impeccable with a firm surface despite the warming sun, and I relished the fact that my ski tracks were the first ones there. Reaching the summit was almost an anticlimax, as there was no sign to commemorate my accomplishment, nor a clear peak to the mountain at 10,670 ft. Even the selfie photo I took to show me at the summit really doesn’t prove much of anything – but I knew I’d made it.

The return trip was a glorious ride down. I was tired but thrilled I’d completed the whole trail and happy that I reached the summit. And that granola bar did taste good at the top.

On my final day, I set off with two friends for a women’s snowshoe hike. Fran has been coming to Snow Mountain Ranch as a volunteer for years, and offered to lead the hike. Patti was new to snowshoeing, so we were a motley crew of experience but eager for a day out. Undeterred by the steady snowfall, we donned our layers of clothes, snowshoes and packs with food, water, extra clothing and emergency supplies.

From Grand Lake we took the East Inlet Trail, which immediately led us into Rocky Mountain National Park. Lacking trail markers, we were glad that we could see vague indentations from previous snowshoers. New snow was piling up quickly, and our view was curtailed to our immediate surroundings. But the beauty of the heavy woods draped in snow made up for the mountains we were missing in the distance. The trail was fairly flat, following a branch of the Colorado River for a while, and meandering through the woods. Progress was slow but satisfying, allowing us to drink in the quiet of the woods.

With an out-and-back trail, the inevitable question is when to turn around? It always feels good to reach a specific destination, and Fran had one in mind. As soon as we saw the large rock formation, we knew we’d reached it. The trail narrowed along a ledge and seemed to whither away with the rock looming overhead. We all agreed it was the perfect stopping point, not wanting to test our skills scampering around the end of the rock. Taking a short time out for a snack and drink of water, we began to retraced our steps. With temperatures hovering right about freezing, the falling snow was saturating our clothing and gloves. Keeping moving was the only way to fend off the resulting chill.

Although Fran had frequently seen moose and other wildlife on that trail, we saw not a single critter. Even animal tracks were in short supply. We were the sole inhabitants of the woods, or so it felt. But that was okay. It was the camaraderie that was best about the hike, spending time with new friends and sharing an adventure.

Yes, I think I did well. Both outings were satisfying in different ways, and brought closure to my stay. And I have left plenty more to explore, hoping we’ll be back next year.