My goal was to get back into a regular fitness routine before the semester started because its so much easier to maintain a fitness routine and add academics to it, than the other way around. I didn't race this summer because I didn't want any comparison between this year and last, when I had a stellar season. Instead, I picked out two events in August that were more about fun and less about competition.
Purple Swim
This year,
Purple Swim in Baltimore offered both one and two mile swims (and participants could swim both events for a total of three miles), so I signed up for the one-mile swim. The event raises money for the Pancreatic Cancer Action Network and I wanted to donate in honor of my co-worker
Kate Thaxton who died of pancreatic cancer on June 6, 2010. She was 37 years old. I didn't know Kate that well, but followed her battle with cancer through news from co-workers and her blog. A lot of people will give you the big
blowoff, but not Kate. She welcomed everyone in her life and when I sent a friend request on
Facebook, she accepted.
In pictures of the event from the previous year, I noticed that about half of the participants were wearing wetsuits. I'd gotten a new wetsuit as a birthday present from my husband, and of course I wanted the occasion to wear it. I worried that the wetsuit wouldn't fit right because I'd lost several pounds earlier this year, but a friend said that unless I was planning to break an Olympic record, the suit would fit fine. Everyone encouraged me to try it out, but I felt self-conscious. Finally, on the last night of practice before the swim, I brought the wetsuit and tried it on. No one batted an eye. An experienced triathlete walked into the changing room while I was wriggling into the wetsuit, but to my relief, said nothing. The suit fit fine. It made swimming easy because it kept the whole body
buoyant, and all I had to do was move my arms and kick a bit. The
buoyancy was a drawback, however, because it made it more difficult to do breaststroke which I use to orient myself in open water.
In the end, I never wore the wetsuit. The air temperature quickly pushed into the upper 80s and the water was warm, and it just seemed to warm to be encased in neoprene. Only about a fourth of the swimmers wore wetsuits.
The swim went great. I'd been warned of a current that made swimming slow, so I decided to wear a watch so that if I seemed to get bogged down while swimming against a current, I could look at the watch and remind myself that I was still moving along. But the event organizer changed the course this year and we rounded buoys, making a 4-sided figure. I loved approaching one buoy, going around it, sighting the next and swimming towards it. This made the swim go fast and broke it down into several goals that I could meet and exceed.
My husband asked me if I had any particular strategies for the swim. I confess that I had none. I don't have an abundance of open water experience. My goal was not to get too winged out by anything: the taste or feel of the water, the plant life, and accidental contact. My major goal was to get into a swimming groove and keep up a strong stroke while using my sighthing skills. And, for the most part, I did this and felt that I gave a good effort. I'm typically a mid-pack athlete, and I was a wee bit disappointed to find myself in the bottom fourth of the swimmers for the 1 mile swim, with a time of 44:22.
My son brought his girlfriend and they swam in the water afterward and we all enjoyed a picnic lunch. We watched the two mile swimmers come in, and then we watched the dogs swim. It was a perfect day.
Eat a Peach Ride
The following Saturday, I headed up to Westminster for the Eat a Peach ride. It was a day that started out bad, and got worse. I was driving on the highway halfway to the Caroll County Agricultural Center when I noticed another car with a bike rack and spotted the spotted the seatpouch, which carries extra tire tubes, CO2, and the like. That's when I remembered that I'd forgotten to put my seat bag back on my bike after washing it last weekend. If my tire popped, I'd be entirely dependent on the SAG wagon to get to me. I couldn't believe I'd made such a stupid mistake.
The event was much bigger than I'd imagined and when I got there shortly after 7 a.m., there already were plenty of bikers parked on the grass. By the time I'd gotten my number, clarification about the flag system of marking the route, and my gear organized, it was 8 a.m. when I set out.
The ride started out good and I proceeded down Salem Bottom Road out of the town of Westminster. There were many rolling hills and I was encouraged by my ability to get up the hills. When I was confused about which direction to take, I got out my map, but others came up behind me and we figured out the way.
Things began to change when I turned onto Rt. 26 Liberty Road. I wasn't seeing as many yellow flags on the side of the road and when I passed a sign saying that I was in the next county, I began to have more doubts. My bike computer showed 14 miles and my cue sheet told me to take a turn at the 12 mile mark. I circled back, but then saw two riders going the way I'd been going, so I circled back to follow them, thinking that they couldn't be wrong. Soon, all three of us were having the same doubts.
Miraculously, a SAG wagon pulled up within minutes to steer us back to the course. We took a shortcut back to the route by going up Buffalo Road (part of the century and 40-mile route) and then taking a left to Barnes Road. Getting lost rattled me. I'd gone 2-3 miles out of my way and I was a bit more tired than I wanted to be on a hilly route this early in the ride. I rode along with the two other riders, a young couple who were strong riders, until we got to the rest stop at the 18 mile mark, which was a welcome sight. The ride promised two rest stops, but I hadn't seen the first. It really didn't matter, though because I and most other riders brought snacks.
After this, I caught up to a rider who was a strong, young dude with attire indicating that he was with a local cycling club. We were on very narrow country roads now. Many of the roads were not well marked and we were dependent on sighting flags to guide the way.
In one bad moment, I found myself on a very steep, short hill right before Sams Creek Road. I'd made a tactical mistake and was in a gear that was too high. I lacked the strength to get up the hill and couldn't get out of my clips, so I avoluntarily tipped my bike so I could walk up the hill. The other rider didn't look back, but didn't leave. I skinned my knee, but promptly got back on the bike.
Several miles later, the young dude popped his tire. I was planning to wait, but he pulled out a spare tube, said that he had the SAG number and walked away. I rode onward and was lonelier than I wanted to be on a group ride. The scenery was beautiful and at one point, I was on a cliffhanger road overlooking open farmland, rolls of grass, and big open sky. I rode past cows in pastures and a crumbling barn. The middle part of the ride didn't have as many hills. But that changed toward the end.
At about the 28 mile mark, I spotted a stone near the side of the road near a turn on the route, got off my bike, and decided that I needed a snack and gobbled down almost an entire bag of energy chews. A rider with zip wheels flew past me up the hill. Not me. I began to walk some of the steeper hills. The younger dude who'd stopped to change his tire caught up to me and passed me as I walked.
We got close to the end, speeding down a hill toward a stoplight at the intersection of Rt. 27--only to see that the route heads straight upwards on a huge hill. Wicked!! The stronger riders rode up the hill, but there were a good number of people--including me--who walked up the hill.
I was glad to reach the finish. I enjoyed the post race food and some conversation. Then I went into the agricultural center to the Eat a Peach festival and bought some pear bread, red raspberry jam, and an old fashioned kitchen towel that hangs over the oven handle. Of course, I helped myself to several ripe, juicy peaches!!
Then I went home and shed a few tears. I've never been disappointed in my performance in an event, and this was a first. I was disappointed that I tipped my bike and disappointed that I'd walked the hills. My future goals involve riding hilly routes, and I couldn't even get through 33+ miles of hills. Most likely, I need a deeper base with cycling, more hill climbing experience, and better technique. But I also thought back to where I started and I've come a long way. For my first triathlon, I specifically chose one that was flat and wimped out of signing up for a triathlon held in Carroll county after driving the bike course. I've come a good distance--but I have a ways to go.
* * *
I'm in better shape now, and in an endorphin rush, I'm fighting the urge to sign up for a Big Event. I read an article in The Washington Post magazine about someone who has a busy job as a project manager for a big highway construction project. She recently completed an Ironman. She gives me the inspiration that a busy life doesn't necessarily preclude big athletic goals. For me, only time will tell as I balance schoolwork with the desire to maintain a base over the winter.
* * *
Here are some hill climbing tips that I'll be thinking about on my next ride:
Hill Climbing Technique
- Gear selection is important—this comes with experience. Experienced cyclists shift gears all the time to achieve the right cadence, about 70-80 rpm. Some athletes use a higher or lower cadence. Get into a good rhythm!
- Get into rhythm at bottom of hill and gain momentum. Don’t attack too hard. Get into a good pace—don’t get anaerobic. Get into your groove. Hit the sweet spot. When you bog down, shift gears or stand up.
- Sitting is the most efficient way to climb—scoot back in the saddle to use your hamstrings or glutes. Then scoot forward to give those muscles a rest. Shift position frequently, especially on longer hills. Can sit at a 45 degree angle or sit more upright to use different muscles.
- Don’t tense up--drop your shoulders. Relax your jaw. Wiggle your fingers. Synchronize our breathing. Place your hands on the top of the bars. Push your stomach out. Hands are relaxed so you don’t waste energy. The more still you are, the less energy you use.
- Pedal with an ankeling style—pull back on the 6 to 9 o’clock part of the stroke.
- Stand up—don’t lose momentum. When one pedal goes down, shift your weight onto it and pop up. Standing is less efficient, but important because you generate more power. Stand when the pitch gets steeper. Let gravity work for you. Feel like you’re standing out of a chair. Pull up on your handlebars. Then resume seated position; go get back into your grove.
- Pick up the pace during the last 20% of the hill as you crest the hill and get over the top. Recover only when you go down.
IT TAKES PRACTICE!
Tips compiled from videos by Troy Jacobson and Bill Strickland
Not long ago, I left a staff
position at a large association that I’d held for 13 years and took a
management position at a small nonprofit. I had stayed in my previous position
due to many externalities related to being a married working mother and longed
for a change. The new position was one that I’d said I’d hoped one day to hold
on my graduate school applications. The career move changed my entire life, but
left me wondering if it was for the better.
