Building Power

October.  The time for crunching through fallen leaves.  Drinking good beer.  Sipping hot cider and pumpkin spice lattes with a good book.  The morning air is crisp despite the days still being warm and sunny.  The windows are left open and in the middle of the night you reach for the blanket to ward off the chill.

I am overcome with the urge to run.  Run long distances.  On soft, dirt covered trails.  Over mountains and through the desert.

Just because it's fall.

Some people get spring fever anticipating the change to nicer weather.  Here in the Valley of the Sun, I get fall frenzy.  Spurred on by that subtle change in the weather that reminds me there are days that don't require heat advisories.  Some people go into hibernation, pack on a few pounds.  I lace up my running shoes and pound the pavement.

While most people are wrapping up their racing season in Kona or New York City, I am prepping for my final build to Ironman Arizona.  In the process I am looking forward to next year and beginning to set goals for the season ahead.

Since coming back from Wisconsin Coach put me back on trails once a week and has had me knocking out some hard workouts on the bike utilizing my new Powertap.  My husband has remarked on several occasions that he hasn't seen me work this hard since our build up for IMAZ 2012 (my PR race).  And it's true.  Since 2012, I slacked off on the bike and lost some fitness.  Now, with the truth staring me in the face, there's no avoiding work.  I can no longer rely on my "perceived exertion" which, let's face it, is less than accurate.

Little by little, I am starting to gain fitness on the bike.  I love the feeling of being completely smashed after a hard 4 hour ride.  I had forgotten that I could feel like this after a bike ride.  It's generally a feeling reserved for the longest of long runs.  And I am thriving.  I crave that endorphin fix, and the burn in my legs.  The feeling of complete exhaustion combined with accomplishment.

Little by little I can see how this new tool is going to revolutionize my training and racing.  I start to look to next year.  I know that Arizona is too soon.  In analyzing my training and racing data, what we have discovered is that I have been taking it way to easy in training and then when I race I push myself far beyond anything my body has been prepared for.  And subsequently I don't have the legs I need to execute the marathon.  Ironically, I can cheat my way through the half iron distance and still manage to post podium or near podium results.  But when it comes to Ironman, my weakness is exposed.  The good news is that with the right training, my bike leg is about to be revolutionized and I will be able to get off the bike and run the pace that I know I can run.  I don't have enough hours in the remaining 5 weeks to do the work that needs to be done.  But maybe, just maybe, by May I will be an entirely new athlete.  With weeks upon weeks of work behind me, and redefined legs as proof.

I've been doing a lot of reading lately.  Athlete's blogs.  My coach's blog.  Random people on facebook who have an opinion about what it means to follow a dream.  One thing I have come to realize is that some dreams are never going to happen.  No matter how much I love ballet and worked hard through my childhood to be the best dancer I could be, my body will never be that of a ballerina.  I have a weird pelvic alignment.  I am not able to turn my hips out.  It's never going to happen.

I have also realized that when a dream is within reach, only relentless hard work, laser focus and single-minded dedication will chip away at the proverbial rock day after day until one day that rock bursts into a million pieces and I am left standing at the top of the podium.  

I am not afraid of work.

I am not afraid of commitment.

I am not afraid of having a dream... and putting it out there for all to see.

I am not afraid of Finding Kona.  No matter how long it takes.

Endorphin High

There is nothing I love/ hate more than a good track workout.  For some reason, it's always the last element of training that I add back into my program, and the first thing to go when I head into taper or off season.  And the irony of it all is that nothing makes me feel as alive as a good track workout.  Not tempo.  Not a long run.  It's all about the track.

After an extended off season this winter, I was having a hard time getting back into training.  Specifically anything particularly difficult or challenging.  I tried a few tempo runs, which were *OK* but nothing spectacular.  One day, I told myself I was going to go to the track, but when I woke up the morning of my scheduled re-introduction to the track, I just couldn't go.  I felt sluggish and slow.  I hit the canal instead and did a fartlek workout.  Kind of a cheaters speed workout. 

Finally, I made the commitment 5 weeks ago.  I'm just going to go and see what happens, I told myself.  And so I did.  And it went really well.  I wasn't so slow after all.  So the next week I convinced a friend of mine to join me at the track.  (Good luck with that, BTW.  Convincing someone else to get out of bed at 4:30 am to run intervals.  Most people smile, nod, and say "no thanks!")  He showed up and suffered through some tough intervals, and surprisingly the next week... he showed up again.  So we've gotten into the routine of meeting after our warm up to knock out a few intervals.  He usually acts as my pacer unless I'm particularly rested. 

Last night I got the weekly text message, Track tomorrow?  To which I responded less than enthusiastically, Yes. 

I've been doing maybe a bit too much lately.  A 20 mile long run followed by a 5k 9 days ago, followed by a hard track workout.  A sprint triathlon 2 days ago, followed by a mid-distance bike ride.  My legs just weren't feeling the speed.  But my training partner was holding me accountable. 

I woke up this morning, and for a brief moment I thought about checking my phone to see if maybe *maybe* he was going to cancel on me.  I decided not to look, which was a darn good thing cause he totally bailed on me this morning.  Had I checked my phone, I know I would have gone back to sleep, or just gone for a normal run- minus the speed work. 

Instead I got ready, and headed out the door for my 3 mile warm up.  As I entered the parking lot outside the track, I noticed there were no cars waiting.  I was going to be running this one solo.  I decided to use this opportunity to run some longer intervals.  I had planned a 2 x 1600, 2 x 800.  I made the decision to run 3 x 1600 instead since no one else would have to suffer through this besides me.  My 1600s have been a little lacking the last few weeks so I wanted to push myself and see what I could do. 

I finished the first interval a little slow, 7:06.  But my first interval is always slow.  I told myself that if that's the best I could do today, I'd take it.  Next interval I hit 6:52 and I felt fantastic.  I wanted more of the endorphins that were streaming through my blood vessels.  Next interval, 6:45.  Give me more!  In my recovery after the 3rd 1600 I did a little math in my head quick.  I could either run 5 extra easy laps on the track before I started my cool down home, or I could run a 4th interval and then only run 1 lap before I headed for home. 

It was a no brainer.  I hit my 4th and final interval in 6:52, cruised an easy lap and then hit the pavement for home feeling high as a kite.  I find it ironic how much I fear that first painful interval every single week, but then how amazing I feel afterwards.  Why is it not the amazing feeling that I remember?  One day I'll figure that out.  In the meantime, I'm going to just sit back and enjoy my endorphins.