CATALINA FUCKIN ECO MARATHON

Yesterday was my first full marathon ever, and in Muller fashion, I decided-- instead of a garden variety marathon-- to do what is considered by most an incredibly challenging trail marathon.  That is, take a marathon, and put it up a mountain, so you're not just tackling 26.2 miles, but also hills, rocky trails, dry river beds, and sometimes felled logs.  Yeah, this is not a dirt path, this was FOR REAL trails.  For real.

So, let us review.  In Hollywood fashion, I was irresponsible my race week and may or may not have wound up drinking a few beers, a few wines, and falling asleep with my clothes on as of Wednesday.  (What?  Judge not.)  Oops.  I did my longest run on Sunday, which was pretty close, but after my nice $22 thai massage (thank you, Living Social!  Serious key to budget athleticism is stocking up on massage coupons, they help recovery so much) the knees were back and legs were feeling good, so I didn't mess anything up in that respect.  I did a few short spinning classes to keep up the cardio, a little yoga, and took off work Friday to get on over to Catalina.

The course "strongly encouraged" bringing one's own water and food, as aid stations would be few and far between, so I hit up my favorite place, Arch and Sole, to grab some Gu's and a Nathan bottle belt, which was a brilliant investment:

(The thing basically saved my life, but I'll go into that later.)

It seemed a better call than my CamelBack, which I did run with on Sunday, but seems like a sure route to double shoulder chafes-ville.  This guy sets on your hips right nice with good padding... a nice choice for the ladies.  And my Gu's and SPF 20 lip balm fit right in the side pockets.  Word.  (The pic's of an older model, methinks... mine's a different color and slightly more awesome, probably.  But you get the picture.)

Mahmmoud was his usual encouraging self, although I had to say I had NO idea what to expect, as this was my first marathon, let alone trail marathon ever, and due to the sis' wedding and Halloween and such, I wasn't so positive my training had been up to snuff.  But he said he was sure I would pull it off wonderfully.  (Didn't hurt that I did not mention my Wednesday... hydration schedule.)

And off we went to Catalina.  I had my equipment manager/chauffeur/moral supporter Jack along for the weekend, which was a fine choice, because the island, Noah's Ark style, is made for pairs.  This was most certainly not the most budget friendly of races... while I was happy to get a $10 discount online, my savings  quickly evaporated into the $28 for the parking garage and the $66 roundtrip ferry ride (on the way there, regular admission was full, so we had to do the $15 upgrade to the Commodore's Lounge... which was actually kind of fun.  Got a free cookie and beverage, boarded first.  Also got to feel somehow important.  It warrants a mention that the Catalina Express from Long Beach has the best bloody mary I've ever drunk... so good, in fact, that I couldn't wait to get one on the trip home.  Mmm.  "Shouldn't you have been drinking water and Gatorade?" you may ask.  To you, I say... hush.)  

It was my first time to the island, at it's now one of my new favorite places of all time.  SO quaint!  So charming, so cute!  Our hotel, which gave me the best rate I could find, was an adorable big pink six-story Victorian, with a B&B feel, though larger.  We ate a lot of oysters (get them when you can, and they're fresh, right?) and buffalo burgers (they live on Catalina, and are on my finisher medal-- spoiler alert, I finished the marathon) while there, as that's what you do.  We even got to sing some karaoke the night before the race, which made us a little famous.  And yes, while drinking some beer and singing sounds like revelry, we were good and got back to the hotel by 9, when I got all my race stuff in order and continued to chug my gatorade-water to counteract any poor beverage choices, and ate some prunes to hopefully... encourage regularity.

Morning came, but regularity did not, so after getting everything together, we did a quick hunt for a latte which got things "cleared out" lickety-split.  (Yeah, TMI, but come on.  I'm training for a race where people will literally pee on their bikes.)  We walked over to the start and at 8AM, off I went, up the mountain, to start the grueling task ahead.

So, one thing you might not think about if you've never done a marathon, is what to do if you have to use the bathroom.  During tris, I've always seen copious port-a-potty opportunities.  Not so with this race.  It was hard enough to get aid stations, and thusly impossible, it would seem, to get temporary toilets.  A woman who I kept up with for the first half of the race, Listy, has done 31 marathons, and keeps "emergency poop supplies", aka TP, in her pack, and says you pretty much "make four new friends" when you have to relieve yourself.  Yikes.  So that was one learning experience.  I was very happy I went through the effort to get that latte ahead of time, even if the caffeine made me wonky for the first 20 minutes of the race.  Worth it to avoid the GI drama later.  (I did, if you must know, pull a ninja-pee in the middle of the race... so quick and stealthy during a healthy distance that none was the wiser.  Skills.)  I should also mention, another major difference between this and my tris is that iPods were allowed.  WTF!  That totally defeats the purpose of the whole man-versus-self, stare-into-the-abyss-ness of it all, doesn't it?  But boy if I wasn't jealous of the chick with the Nano when all I had running through my head on repeat was Rhianna's "Only Girl in the World" refrain (I don't even know if that's the name of the song, I only know it from the radio, and only the refrain, which I recreated in my mind for HOURS on end.  That and that disco song "If You Could Read My Mind".  And no, I work out to neither.  Stupid brain.)

I thought this marathon would be a good one, as it would be scenic and cool (November 13 and on an island was promising, no?) but for whatever reason, the temperature decided instead of the even high of 72 to go for the 80s, so it was already warm in hour one of the race.  And if there's one thing you should know, it's that heat makes this girl CRANKY.  But what could I do, but carry on.  This did, however, make hydration a real issue, so it was very good to have my bottle on hand, and ready for refills.  I even took salt tablets, which I don't much do, at a couple of the tables at the start and later in the race... I think it saved me from some mega crampage.  Seems weird, taking salt, but that's one of those "athlete" things, I guess....

The first mile was up the street, and then we hit the trail, which wound around and went up and up and up.  Already I was walking a little, but so was everyone.  Walking and running is the name of the game for a trail marathon of this kind, and with my handy Garmin Forerunner, I could make sure I caught up on downhills and straightaways for the times I had to keep my heartrate sane by walking uphill-- I'd been told by a seasoned trail marathoner of the LATC that I should expect around 5 miles per hour for a trail course, so that seemed a good goal (if ambitious... I fell short of that on off-days training.)  The day got hotter, and I kept running, and the course got hairier: there was some awkward downhill stumbling, a narrowing of the path, and some steep descents that were tricky to maneuver, but I made it to the half marathon mark by 2:30 and was averaging 8:30 minute miles in the woodsy path, so I felt pretty good.  Of course I dreaded the upcoming alleged "Catalina Crush", a nasty hill at mile 19, which is just cruel in my opinion, but at least I was mentally prepared. 

I was NOT mentally prepared for the crazy-steep slip-n-slide down a dusty slope that was all but impossible not to fall on, and in mile 14, I found all that fancy footwork had led to my already occasionally tweaky right ankle to feel SUPER effed up.  I rolled it around a little, limped on it a little, walked a little, tip toed, and thought "you finally have injured yourself."  But after a few trials of pronating and doing different things, I somehow started to run again, and eventually the shooting pain all but evaporated entirely.  While many around me were cramping up like crazy, I felt suuuuuuuper lucky that my ankle moment didn't prove lasting.

So I hobbled along from mile 15 onward, walking, running, but keeping my five mile an hour goal still, and even hauled it up the damn "crusher" in fifteen minutes, gobbled down some fruit at the aid station below it and got to mile 20 by hour 4 (which I'd hoped to do, since I did that during training... but not really, 'cause during training I totally paused for bathroom and water breaks.)  Side note: if you do this marathon, definitely bring your own fuel.  I'd brought 3 Gu's, thinking I'd fruit it up and such, but a lot of the tables were meager.  The first only had water, the second had only jelly beans and M&Ms for food, and one had only candy and-- get this-- burger.  It may be the Eco Marathon, but it certainly is not the Veggie Marathon.  A few tables had better road access, I guess, and had nice big plates of watermelon and oranges, which, with that heinous heat, were sweet sweet relief.  But man, I had to ration my Gu's.  Didn't wanna bonk.

The last six miles were fairly brutal.  We all thought the "crusher" was the end of the insulting uphills, but no... it's like they just kept returning.  Of course, they were milder, and these were on the dirt roads and the like, but with the sun beating down and your feet and knees and legs all brutalized, it's a difficult thing to bear.  I was cursing the island and the race by mile 23, which I swear went on FOREVER.  The pain of the GPS watch is you get to see how LITTLE you've progressed.  Plus, somewhere I lost .2 miles, so I would always feel a little cheated when I passed a mile marker and my watch wouldn't confirm.  Ironically, I made it up and then ADDED .3 miles, which led to a very grumpy sprinter at the finish.

I passed a guy with those creepy toe sneakers around mile 24, as we neared decent, and he gave me a chocolate Gu, which he said he wasn't going to eat, and I was super grateful... I'm pretty sure that's what gave me the cajones to finish.  Down the path from whence we came I galloped, legs all wobbly and awkward, ignoring the pain, trying to run as best I could without tripping and dying on the rocky path (I have my parents to thank for our hikes in the woods... the sure-footedness I developed as an 11 year old, running down paths in sandals, jumping from stone to stone without tripping totally helped me out here.)  Right at the 25 marker at the base of the mountain, my toe just caught a stone and I pitched forward, both calf muscles seizing up in threat of charley horse, but then I caught my step and my muscles relaxed.  HUGE sigh of relief.  So close to the finish, could you imagine?

I made it out of the woods, back to the road, and passed the last aid station.  "25.5 miles" they told me, and off I went, getting to that little hysterical feeling, where you just want it over and you realize oh my GOD it's almost OVER, and suddenly it's hard to breathe, but you just gotta GO and DO IT, and I was running around 8 minute miles, and I look and it's like, where is it! Where is the effing finish line?  And people on golf carts are clapping, but I don't hear anything, and I don't see the finish, and I'm getting furious, because my GPS tells me, I'm AT 26.2, I'm done, I did it, but nothing, and I'm angry, but running, and running harder and hardest as I can, and finally I see it, and I'm panting, and saying "this is bullshit", but I still do the best I can and run in, and I finish at 5 hours, 18 minutes, and I have done 26.5 miles (I swear, those trails are sketchy, one easily picks up and loses a few.1s).

I was so glad it was over, and the minute I took off my left sneaker, my arch went into a terrible cramp, but I took a happy Pacific Ocean ice bath (no need for a tub!) which I think will do me real well in recovery.  Every race should end near a very cold body of water!

To my surprise and delight, when I leisurely hobbled over to the results, I found that I'd come in 90th out of the 250 entrants, and in my age range, I was.... (drumroll!)... second!!!  Yay!  This is the first time I've ever placed, and it was my first marathon!  (And a really hard one!)  I'm not sure how many people in my age range competed... but I choose not to know.  There were at least enough that someone did come in third, so I say... go me!!

I finally got around to hooking up my fancy Garmin to my laptop, and am geeking out bigtime over the results.  It shows me a map (an actual map!) of where I ran, and has a whole schematic of my pace, speed, elevation and heart rate (as selected) over mileage or time.  FYI, my total ascent was 5499 feet, says the watch.  Yeah, it SUCKED.  But I did it!  And I actually placed!  So awesome!!!

(This is the screen capture of elevation and heart rate.  I coulda done speed, but it was so variable.  Then again, choosing heart rate was pretty arbitrary, but whatever.  But dude: look at that first climb!  WTF!  By mile three my calves were already in dire shape.  I think the elevation map is what best translates in terms of what a pain in the ass this marathon was....)

Onward: entry for Vineman is open, and I'm seeking people to do the 3 for 2 entry.  There's always more to do!  Wooooooot! 

Gadgetry

So, I've added two new gadgets to my training.  The first I've been waiting for for a while...

Aww yeah.  It's the Garmin Forerunner.

Any triathlete worth her salt's gotta invest in one of these eventually, and I felt really left out on all the brick workouts, with everyone's wrists chirping away, and I with but a humble heartrate monitor.  This puppy will keep track of your mileage, your heart rate, your calories, and split it up into biking and running too.  (Dag!)

I finally got mine, since they've come out with a waterproof model (add swimming to the mix!), so the 303 is now half off, brand new on Amazon.  Goooo budget.

When I took the watch out of the box, I whispered to it, "You're from the future!"  No joke.

So far, it's been super helpful for this whole marathon training spiel.  I get a very accurate picture of my workouts, my progress, and my improvement.  I just have to make sure I charge it every time... it died mid longrun the other week, which was a super bummer.

As I'm lazy, and my computer is on death's door anyway, I haven't installed the software that allows me to upload and analyze my data.  But I bet you it's totally awesome.  Especially insofar as it's supposed to show elevation too.  That makes a big difference when it comes to trail running... you're bound to go a bit slower.  Will make me feel like less of a loser.

So, for the Garmin watch, I say: indispensable, though bulky.  Love it! 

My other new recent gadget that gets low marks is my scale.  Oh scale, you enemy to women everywhere.  I've shed pounds through triathlon training in the past, but seem to be holding pretty steady these days, and while I fit into my clothes well, I can't help but feel haunted by my weight hovering at that irritating 150 mark.  So I figured perhaps I'd feel better if I got a scale that measured body fat, as I'm guessing my incredible density is due to lotsa muscle.  (For someone who's 5'6", my weight is pretty high.)  Best compliment I ever got was at the Red Cross, where they guessed, by looks, that I was around 130 lbs.  Yeah right.

To my dismay, the scale I got indicates that I'm overweight, with my body fat up over 35%, just a few percentage points below my muscle.  This sent me into a very typical female spiral of body hate.  Okay, I have some padding, but I'm absolutely not overweight!  The whole point of this was to put my weight into perspective, but now I just feel way more insecure.  Scales are bad enough, but this one literally tells you "you're fat".  Fuck you, scale.

Of course, now I look online and it says that these electronic fat scales are super variable and can't be trusted.  And mine was cheapo from Amazon.  And I have to say, when I switch my settings from female to male, it default gives me lower body fat.  WTF?  How does that make sense?  I suspect I'm manlier than most women, so I choose to read it that way.  And at least the weight seems accurate... so I can keep track of something with it.

So we had a big gadget win and a big gadget fail.  Oh technology, you are a blessing and a curse!

Bonking.

Nope, I don't mean "bonk" as in Bonk, the book about sex by Mary Roach, but bonking as in carb depletion.  Being that I'm only used to four hour bike rides, I seem to have forgotten that I'll need sufficient energy to fuel my four hour runs, too... the hills are pretty draining.  I brought along a Luna bar, but homegirl needs her calories.  So, my long run for last weekend was supposed to be something like 23 miles, but once I was out there, after about two hours, I was totally kaput.  Four hours and 18.3 was all I could do... the last hours I was dragging along, walking and trotting, total amateur hour.  I've got my sister's wedding Oct 23, and Nebraska doesn't have much in the way of hills, so I'm a little nervous about getting the stamina up for the crazy course on Catalina (hey alliteration!)  Best stock up on em Gus and get on the mountains when I'm back.

Hollywood Triathlete Epitomized in 48 Hours.

Good God, this was a remarkably involved weekend, and it sort of all ties into the idea of my Hollywood Triathlete existence.  Sometimes, I'll get busy with tutoring, or visiting friends, or some other randomness, but this weekend was 50% Performing* and 50% Sport, with no tampering to dillute the extreme concentrations of Hollywood Triathletics.  (*Everyone knows "Performing" also means drinking.  That's what happens after.  It's the Hollywood way!)
I could write a number of posts, but I choose instead to put it all in here.  First, I should say that I am now officially doing the Catalina Eco Marathon (I didn't have the money to enter, but finally got it together, just in time for the October 1st deadline when my LATC coupon for ten bucks off would expire!).  Secondly, I at long last got myself some new shoes!  Hooray!  Here is a picture:

(I kind of love them.)

I went to my favorite running store in all of LA, the adorably named Arch and Sole, who I've been going to for at least a year now... as you know, running shoes wear out in a matter of months, so the people you choose to buy from is an important relationship to build, because they're going to get a lot of your business, and you're going to use those shoes almost daily.  Mahmoud and Zuzana at Arch and Sole are super informative and friendly.  By now, Mahmoud knows all about my half Ironman exploits, and always remembers the races I've done and how I've improved, which frankly is awesome, and he's always interested to hear what's new and what I'm training for.  Zuzana was super helpful as it was my first foray into buying trail shoes, and brought out lots of options with tons of information that help me decide.  My favorite thing is that they're never trying to up-sell you... the shoes I ultimately bought are an older model of Mizuno trail shoes, the Ascent 3s, marked down to $70 from $100 (apparently people thought they were "too blue"... but I love it!)  I was also leaning towards a pair of Brooks, which usually don't fit me as well, but their latest trail shoe was all kinds of arch support heavenly, but those were $110, and the nuance between the two didn't seem so epic that I could justify paying forty extra dollars.  Mahmoud broke it down as I stood with them side by side, saying the Mizuno has a less flexible and more sturdy sole, as opposed to the Brooks, which has more give, and said as I grow accustomed to trail running I can move towards a shoe like the Brooks, but that it would probably be a good choice to go for the more sturdy shoe that can take a pounding (aka, the cheaper shoe.)  Yes, he encouraged me to buy the cheaper shoe, because it was the right choice for me, and he knows my fiscal situation!  How awesome.  (Of course, now I'll totally come back and get that Brooks shoe from them later.  It was dreamy.  And had really good colors, too.  I'm a girl.)

As a general note, I've got to say, I do budget all the time, but shoes are one thing you really can't skimp on, because they determine the life of your knees.  You can cut corners by getting an older model like I did (because if you bought them a year ago, they'd be cutting edge, it's not like they suddenly become crappy... but you should definitely ask your clerk, as I learned the Brooks trail shoe of yore was terrible, but this new model that I so love was a revamped version, so... yes, always purchase intelligently!) but you should never run on a shoe you know is dead, or in-- God forbid-- something like Converse with zero shock absorption.  (What are you, mad!  But yes, a friend getting into running did report to me she'd jogged in her Chucks, and was so surprised to be hurting.  Buy your shoes first, folks!)  Once you see wrinkles in the heel, it's time to shell out around 100 dollars.  It's an expense, but it's worth it to avoid wrecked knees for the rest of your life, and it will prolong your ability to keep up this wonderful fitness habit!

So I trotted away, happy with my new bright blue shoes, which are indeed quite sturdy... I tried them out in a quick Runyon jaunt, and had that great sensation like I could run forever.  (So nice to get new shoes.)  Then I got home, finished making a homemade pizza (I've become obsessed!), showered, and got ready for my debut at the iO West, where I performed all my ukulele songs!  It was a rousing success, and I spent a couple of hours catching up with my improv friends and drinking boilermakers-- oh Lord, Gatorade that isn't-- and even caught up with David Park, the man who started it all.  (Back in the day, I was chatting with him in that very bar, and he revealed that he and some other improv friends were doing this crazy triathlon called Wildflower-- yes, the one and only-- and I, in my impulsive way, said, "I wanna do that!" and I went home and dropped the nearly 200 bucks for late registry, and so was this Hollywood Triathlete born.)  I had a grand old time, came home and ate the rest of my homemade pizza (drunk stomach), and stayed up until 3AM watching Parv, another friend through improv, on Hulu in the pilot of the new TV show "Outsourced".  Perhaps not the best behavior for an athlete.  But you know, add Hollywood to the front, and it all makes sense.  Hollywood is synonymous with irresponsible behavior... and fun things.

So, we're in that wretched time in LA where you think, by God, we're in the clear, we've escaped the hellish oven of summer weather (though that didn't happen so much this time around, blessedly), and then whamo, a weird "Indian Summer" heatwave leaves you paralyzed for days of high 90s weather.  And the very worst thing about that is that it makes outdoor exercise nearly entirely impossible, and certainly impossible if it's long, enduring outdoor runs on trails, which is exactly what I needed to do for 17 miles on Sunday, my long run day.  So I knew I'd have to get up and be on the trails by 7ish, which meant I did get up... maybe still drunk... on my wonderful four hours of sleep, take the very effective Brazilian hangover medicine, Engov, drink lots of water and head over to Griffith Park, where I ran from 7:30 until 10:30, much to my amazement. Amazed, because I only started walking hills-- was trying for lower heart rate, as instructed-- at 10, when the heat really started to kick in and it became insupportable.  I'm pretty sure I did at least 15 miles, and had a lot of good hills in the mix.  I've been finding my right hammy is tending to be tight, and that might require some foam roller action, but I'll save that for another post.

So then it was back here, to post all my youtube videos of my ukulele show, and cook for the week as best I could, and I still haven't napped, but am in this very peaceful meditative frame of mind, which I think will translate into early bedtime.  But of course, not before making more homemade pizza!  I've discovered the trick to making the crust thin, and it's the most exciting thing... ever.  So I'm going to end this blog with my pizza recipe, because if you make it right, pizza can be a great little meal for a triathlete.

To review: new shoes, big show, celebrations and hungover 17 mile run = Hollywood triathlete.

Nikki's New Favorite Meal: Homemade Pizza!
(to be fair, I don't make the sauce, so really I'm only fixated on the crust.)

To make the crust, you'll need:
1 cup white whole wheat flour
1 cup bread flour (you can do both whole wheat, but the consistency won't be as awesome)
2 tsp sugar (I use raw sugar or agave)
2 tbsp olive oil
1 package of yeast
1 cup warm water
3/4 tsp of salt (or omit if you're not into that whole sodium thing)
Garlic powder and basil to taste

Dissolve the yeast into the water and let it sit for 10 minutes, until creamy.  Make a dry mixture of ingredients, then mix everything together until combined evenly.  Let it rise for 30 minutes.  Knead on a floured surface.
*Here's where my special technique comes up:
Preheat the oven to 400 F. Divide the dough into two balls.  Place parchment paper on your pizza stone or pan and tamp out the dough ball with your fingertips so it's as thin as you can manage, without making any holes.  (It'll be about 10 inches in diameter.)  Add on pizza sauce, cut up garlic cloves, spinach, fat free feta, chicken sausage and a sprinkle of low fat mozzarella.  (Or you know, whatever you like.)  For the particularly ambitious, you can make a stuffed crust with a low fat string cheese, if you peel it apart and fold it into the edges.

I like doing it this way because it's less carby and also just has a better balance of ingredients.  If you use the whole dough ball, even when you think you've made it thin, you'll wind up with this balloon crust, since it rises a bit again in the oven.  The whole wheat substitution totally still tastes delicious, though I've yet to try without any bread flour.  Enjoy!

She's a Griffith Park BRICK house!

Note: a brick workout is one workout followed immediately by another, usually a medium bike followed by a medium run in the tri world.  So, yesterday I went to one of the last Griffith Park Brick workouts, hosted for the LA Tri Club by Fortius Coaching, the totally badass-awesome home of Gerardo Barrios, who's helped me hugely though in an unofficial capacity, as my until-lately-unemployed-but-still-broke ass can't yet afford a legit coach (but I do highly recommend Fortius to the gainfully employed!)  One day I'll join team.  I have strong Protestant guilt... I wouldn't accept the advice without hoping I would one day pay for the actual coaching!  (I don't ALWAYS want to be broke.)

I've enjoyed my share of free Fartleks there, the so funny-sounding run workout that means "speed play" in Swedish, where the group shifts leaders, and that leader picks a pace for a random stint of time, so you're mixing up your speed intervals.  (I almost always go at a pace that is way past where I should be, though... oops. Overachiever.)  The Griffith Park Brick is always a killer workout-- often 75 minutes up the hill towards the Observatory, then toss your bike in your car and do a six mile trail run.  This time around, I ran while the others biked-- as I am training for a marathon, after all-- for about 45 minutes, down the horse trail into where the sand gets annoying-deep, and then back and up some hill I didn't know, and then I waited a spell for Triathlon Wunderkind and GMAT tutee Kevin, who's in training for Ironman 70.3 Austin, and we put on our headlamps and went for our six mile trail run.  Daaaang, if I don't feel like a slow poke.  Kev's a great training partner, because a.) he too is a Hollywood Triathlete, living off of Franklin and enjoying beer and social life independent of the sport and b.) he's fast as all get out, so you'll always be challenged if running or biking with him.  Well, I had some nasty headache in the works, and found that I wasn't quite up to snuff... at one point, I actually got dizzy, I was pushing it so hard.  So Kev was kind enough to ease off pace-wise-- plus my headlamp was brighter, so he didn't have a choice!-- and we still finished our 5.75 miles in 55 minutes, bathroom break included.  He emailed me his marathon training plan from the LA Marathon (it looks more legit than whatever I copied out of that random book at Barnes and Noble) and advised me to do my long weekend runs on hills at a low heart rate to up my ante.  So I'm adding nuance to the training plan (and hopefully an occasional spin class... gotta get good on the hills with my heart if I'm to do a whole trail marathon, eeeeek!)

Once off the hills, I did actually get my second wind and pick it up pretty decent.  I'm not that far from kicking ass... I just need some new running shoes.  (Lady I met in the parking lot says my brand, Mizuno, makes a killer trail running shoe, which you'd like to have for extra ankle support.  I've had a couple stumbles, so I see the merit in that... time to start looking!)

Hollywood Triathlete: Now More Budget-y Than Ever!

Oy.

Have you ever noticed that you rarely randomly receive money, but that you'll very frequently randomly owe or lose money?  It's a very unfairly skewed tendency of Fate, which I think should be random, but is pretty intent on leading us all to Brokeness.

To recap, I've been so broke lately that I didn't even have enough money in my account to cover the auto debit of my student loans (which is far more than I, a budget Hollywood triathlete, can afford per month as is.)  That was a sad day.  But I started tutoring again, and got paid for a chunk of fun creative writing teaching I'd done, which was going to put me over the hump, hooray!  But then I had to get a ticket to Nebraska for my sister's wedding.  But then my Mom helped me out a bit, so I was going to get ahead again!  But then my Interval underwater headset and enclosed iPod shuffle were stolen from the gym, and so the desire to replace those looms in the future.  Boo.  (I haven't, and have instead been embracing the zen of silent swims with earplugs to keep the water demons out of my brain.  It was quite nice actually, until the pool started getting crowded in the mornings-- everyone got wise, apparently-- and I got PUNCHED IN THE HEAD.  Not good.  So, I'm sort of avoiding swimming, but for once a week.  Moo.)

So, that's sort of average on the scope of normal expenses and the like.  I picked up a new student, which will buttress the income, and was feelin' fine.  Then, after doing a little shoot with the Tosh.0 folks, where I stood in a line of thirty people who held hands and got electrocuted (yup), I filled out my paperwork and went to study up on the GMAT, which I'm tutoring my dear triathlete friend in, as part of our barter pay-off for his old bike.  Aforementioned paperwork required passport information, ergo I had my passport on me, and thought, I don't want this lying about while sitting in a park full of Mexicans (KIDDING-- kidding!!!) but anyway, I put it away... I think... in my backpack so it wouldn't be lying out in my purse.  I then picked up my gal Kristen from LAX, we did girl bonding things like mani-pedis and talking about vampire books, and then I drove to K-town, where I thought, as leaving my car, "oh I shouldn't leave my iPod touch out like that", but promptly did nothing about it, as my hands were full and I was spaced out.  The next day I discover the iPod touch is gone, and all the glove compartments and such are open.  Soooo, theft.  Which sucked, but you know, I am the ass who left it in there.  And I have this awful feeling that I somehow left the door open, though who DOES that?  (There wasn't a broken window or anything.)
So the week continues and I'm all sad about the iPod, but happy the car wasn't stolen (it's a Honda Accord, people love stealing those), and it gets the a day when I think, oh, I didn't put back my passport.  Where's my passport?  Ummm, it's also gone.  Though since I'm so all over the place, it was unclear if it were just buried in a back, in a pile of crap, or actually stolen.  So on Friday I did a thorough dig through my car and concluded that it is indeed neither there nor in my backpack, and woe is me.  That had a Brazilian visa for the next five years, which is 'spensive.  And getting a new passport is $110 + $25 "processing fee" (why not just say $135?)  So again.  Random stupid crap.  Not to mention that iPod had my oh so handy keep track of your food app, and now I feel like I'm forever lost.  And a new iPod is at least $300, generally.  BOO, double boo!

And then, all resigned to the fate of lost passport and bummed out that I can't shoot the comedy sketch in the location I wanted to because I don't have $300 for insurance, I back out of my parking spot DIRECTLY into someone's new Chrystler-- so new that it still has dealer plates.  And this guy just had the worst month of his life (read: 2.5 year old nephew dying kind of bad month.)  So, I feel like a dick, and again, though it wasn't an epic crunch, anything regarding body work at a shop is going to set you back over 400 dollars.  And indeed, it was $640.  Hey rent, how ya doin?

So I feel utterly drained.  And I really desperately need running shoes, lest I run my knees out of order.  So, hey-- how about booking a national commercial right about now?  That would even it out, don't you think?

The road ahead.

Well, I think it's time I set some goals, and then get a game plan.  We all know the full Ironman is the ultimate, but that's not for nearly a year, and so actual training for the Big One shall not commence until the six month mark.  Then it's full GAME ON.

In the meantime, I've decided to do a trail marathon (Catalina Eco Marathon) in November, as I've never done a full marathon, and trail marathons are super badass hardcore, and I enjoy doing all things to the limit.  And they are also way cheaper than tris, so it's about all I can afford presently.  Actors are poor, as a rule.  Until they are successful, which is possibly never.

Anywho, it's a baby GAME ON with training for the marathon for the time being.  This will give me a good opportunity to hone in some good habits and maybe eliminate the bad ones.  I'm being good in actually doing weight training this time around, as I don't want to atrophy into a creepy looking Holocausty spectre like so many marathon runners I've seen.  But have you seen me lately?  I'm quite a hunk of woman.  Still, I don't relish the idea of my muscles EATING themselves, so I'm into it.  Also still swimming, and doing some biking for cross training, and of course, my dearly beloved yoga's in the mix.  Finding the time (and still practicing the uke and recording silly raps and flip cam-ing music videos) is always a challenge, but I've been waking early.  So far, not so bad.

Except.....  Worst habit: BAD NUTRITION.

Yeah, what can I say... today I basically ate a bag of Peanut M&Ms and then a fat free chocolate frozen yogurt (with chocolate sprinkles, an homage to my favorite childhood treat at Carvel back in NY) for dinner.  Not really the dinner of champions.  But when you're sitting, waiting for your Five Hour Energy audition with this incredibly wordy piece of copy to remember and you feel yourself waning, sometimes the only thing that can get you through is-- no, not Five Hour Energy-- but Peanut M&Ms.  And then, as you make the trek through nasty Westside traffic back to Hollywood and pass the Big Chill, well, how often are you near that yogurt store with the incredible Ghiardelli fat free chocolate yogurt that tastes so much like your favorite Carvel soft serve?  And hence, the poor dinner.

I did still do a Runyon run up the hill-- albeit in near darkness, as it was late once I got back, and then over an hour of weights and abs.  Talk about a GI nightmare-- good thing my roomie's out of town at a wedding.  (Read: ab work + gas = very audible gastrointestinal action.)  I have no problem in making myself be active.  I can say yes to almost anything.  And therefore, I suppose, the problem with diet.  Diet means saying no.  I love saying yes to food.  It's such a lovely thing.

I do admit that I have a very bad relationship with impulsive eating, portion control, and sugar.  Give me a box of cookies and that box is effed, because I will eat the whole thing, like a horse and a big vat of oats.  I can sometimes hang on to some modicum of self-control if I FORCE myself to use my iPod app, "Lose It", where you can track all the calories you intake and expend by logging your food and exercise.  Swell little thing, super convenient, and I became a slave to it for some time.  It's good for parties, when you go on autopilot and start Hoovering the Doritos.  Fessing up to your iPod of that is quite the Mea Culpa moment, and gives you pause next time you reach chipward.

But I love being able to eat without feeling stereotypically female and anal retentive.  (I go through love hate relationships with that app for that reason... what a loser, having to log all my food.  Can't I just eat what I want and be healthy?  But no, the answer is no.  I invariably go back to the overeating habit if I part with the pod.  I blame weed, too.)  Part of the reason I became interested in endurance sports was that, beside the fact that I found I could do cardiovascular activity for ages and not fatigue, I also super dug the multi thousand calorie burn and the fact that I could totally, what, eat frozen yogurt for dinner and not have to beat myself up too much, as my calorie deficit was already so great.  But that's no good... I want to be a respectable-like triathlete, and be nice to my body.  It's already getting punished enough, is it not?

I considered cutting out sugar altogether, because clearly I'm an addict, and I think I'll still go for it... at least refined sugar... but it's in too many of the quick fuel items I like to train with, so I don't know if that will ruin my good intentions.  My hope is that by keeping track of my training and habits and the like on this here blog, and next time I reach for that bag of Peanut M&Ms I'll think, "what would the VAST audience of Hollywood Triathlete readers think??"  (Because I'm sure you are a vast, vast audience.)  I'm stealing this idea from "Fat Biker", who I heard about on NPR.  But he's way more noble than I.  I just want to do endurance sports and write funny ukulele songs.  And fit into the very pretty but very petite dress I am to wear at my sister's wedding come October 23.

I think taking on the mindset of nutrition as an aid to my training is the best way to go.  That way I am simply saying yes to becoming a better triathlete instead of saying no to delicious cheese (oh, cheese!)  I'll keep ya posted on what works and where I fail as I give it the old college tri (haha.)  There are a few nutrition books I'm gonna look into, once I have the expendible income of 30 bucks to get them.  (Not kidding about the budget here, folks.)

One awesome recipe that I gleaned from a woman I babysit/tutor for is for Kale Chips.  I adore roasted seaweed: it's packed with vitamins and satisfies the same salty craving without the terrible guilt potato chips would engender.  And so I try to have a crapload on hand in case of emergency crave.  [Trader Joe's has em for a dollar a pack, but you can get them in three packs for under two bucks from Asian Grocery stores... check out HK Market on Western in Ktown, if you live in LA, of course.]  Kale is another fabulous leafy green with all them good minerals, and it turns out, it can make a totally kickass ersatz potato chip similar to the seaweed.  Crunchy, flaky, and not bad for you.  Hooray!

Here's what you do:

Kale Chips
Ingredients:
A big buncha Kale
Olive Oil
Salt
(I added a squish of garlic for flavor)

Preheat oven to 250F.  Pick kale leaves off of the rough stem, toss them in olive oil and salt.  Spread them evenly on baking sheets lined with parchment paper and bake for 30 minutes until completely crisp and dry.

A-mazing.  J'adore.  Special thanks to Randi for revolutionizing my kale worldview.  (I do have some other Kale recipes I may share later.  We shall see.)

Bed is calling, and I've yet to decide how to fit in whatever workout I'll do tomorrow... am getting tazered for Tosh.0 in the afternoon and then picking up my grad school friend from LAX, so it'll have to be a morning workout.  Bah!  Oh the life.

Your Hollywood Triathlete,
Nik

10th Anniversary Barb's Race, aka the Lady Vineman 70.3.

So, yesterday was my second half Ironman length course of 1.2 mile swim, 56 mile bike and a half marathon run up in wine country during the full Vineman Ironman. Everyone else did this 70.3 a couple of weeks ago, but this one's a special "ladies only" race where half of the entry fee goes to fight breast cancer. I'd been feeling a little nervous about this race, as my past few weeks have been filled with work and mourning and moving, and also pizza and beer, so I didn't know how good my conditioning would serve me. (Though I was prime to win a triathlon of pizza, beer, and hanging out.) The long drive up alone seemed daunting, and I wasn't sure I'd get into the headspace for racing successfully. But I friggin rocked it, getting PRs in every leg of the race and overall doing what was to me unimaginable in breaking six hours. It reminds me of the first time I broke six minutes in running the mile. "Five? Really? Moi?" Very exciting, and of course encouraging. And totally crazy, considering the weeks, days and hours before. Take THAT, cancer.

In terms of drama, there were a few moments that could have fouled things up... I toppled off my bike at the first aid station in trying to get my Gatorade and water, but only resulted in looking like an idiot and getting a tiny blood blister on my middle finger, so no harm there. And towards the end of a bike an effing bee hit me in my face, ricocheted off and stung my [incredibly well muscled] thigh. Which is annoying, but dude, at least it wasn't my face. Yikes. And when I got to T2, I racked my bike one rack ahead and had to move it, which delayed things a little. And took a pee break. So that transition was a wee bit longer. Pee bit longer. Heh. Dork.

An assessment of what was what: The swim for Vineman is in a river, even though everyone I told that to was like "whaaat? You must be mistaken." Yeah, that's all the water you can find, yo. They put a temporary dam up, and there's a very innocuous current upstream, you turn and then it innocuously helps you back to the finish line. It's very shallow at points, so much so that your hand scrapes the bottom when doing freestyle, and some people stand up (which I think is cheating). I'm not sure what magic pool fairy blessed my LA Fitness training, but for some reason I did better on the swim by nearly a full five minutes, and I thought I would never get better at swimming, ever. So that was a delightful way to get into a positive mindset.

The bike course is waaaay more forgiving than Oceanside, with its evil hills and headwinds, and paired with the glory of my new loaner to purchase hand me down from Kevin Pearce, I finally had an efficient machine to ride upon, and it made a world of difference. I could perhaps have kicked it up a notch, but those rolling hills alongside gorgeous vistas of vineyards encourage one to take it easy, and I didn't want to burn out before the run, which was considerably MORE challenging than Oceanside. Running rolling hills ain't as fun as biking them. Despite the run being a harder course, I also beat my old time there by about five minutes, which is raaaaaaaaaaaad, and finished strong, as I like to do, when I saw by my watch that I was very tangibly going to be under six hours, and did the whole "gonna cry I'm running so hard, hope I don't throw up when they're taking off my timing chip", which was very nice. Hee.

I probably did so well because of the 4:40AM wake up, eight hour drive and wine drinking with my incredible hosts, Dan and Julia, the night before. (Read: that does not seem to be responsible athletic behavior, but it's how one must roll at times.) Sometimes you gotta max out and play ukulele songs before bed, and then you'll do well. Maybe. I don't know what happened, but I'm very pleased. And now I've seen the course, and am planning on doing the full Vineman (full Ironman length) next year. Because the Barb's Race medal looks like a blue light catcher windchime, and I want a hardcore awesomeness one. (There are better reasons. But I like that one.)

The results:
Overall time: 5.54.41
Swim: 00:35:44. (instead of 40)
0T1: 00:04:49.1
Bike: 03:04:33.4 (instead of 3.38: yes it IS all about the bike)
T2: 00:03:34.0
Run3: 02:06:01.4 (instead of 2.11, dag yo!)

I also ranked pretty darn well out of women in general, though nothing like top five. (My age group is effing fast... one person got a 5.12, holy crap. Makes me feel slightly less impressed. But that's just because I'm stupid.)

I finished 12th in Women's 25-29 out of 40 women (wow, not bad) and 42nd out of a total of 372 women (aka I was on the upper half of page two of a twelve page race result. Nice.)
Of course, many of these women just wanted to cure cancer and do a leisurely race. But I say, cure cancer with some EFFORT, people. :-)

So, all in all, a crazy good race. Followed by an ice bath, a great nap, and an amazing gourmet dinner and enough wine and cocktails that I'm walking lopsided this morning, but not too bad on the soreness side! Bring it, Ironman!

Beginning the journey...

I start my journey with my favorite Joseph Campbell quotation from The Hero With a Thousand Faces: "...we have not even to risk the adventure alone; for the heroes of all time have one before us, the labyrinth is fully known; we have only to follow the thread of the hero-path. And where we had thought to find an abomination, we shall find a god; where we had thought to slay another, we shall slay ourselves; where we had thought to travel outward, we shall come to the center of our own existence; where we had thought to be alone, we shall be with all the world."

I'm starting an adventure.  Two years ago, I started the adventure of my first Olympic triathlon at Wildflower, one of the most challenging International distance courses in the States.  Last March, I braved my first long course, the Ironman 70.3 at Oceanside.  This weekend, I'm repeating the challenge up during Vineman, doing half the course with a bunch of breast cancer fighting ladies.  And I'm hoping in a year to come back and take on the FULL IRONMAN.  (Ohhhh boy!)

Is it crazy?  Sure!  Can I do it?  I think so.  But not if I half ass it, and not without the help of many and a whole lot of discipline and determination.  Many have done it before me.  Some are my friends.  Many had more time or more money.  But there's only one Nikki.  And she wants to become IronNik.  So, let's see if I can venture forth and get close to realizing this crazy dream of mine.  Many walls will be broken down.  Time to slay myself.