If you would like to help American Lab Rescue and support me on my journey to Ironman Arizona, please consider a donation.
Ellie and the rest of the pups say thanks!
Friday, August 26, 2011
Happy National Dog Day!
If you would like to help American Lab Rescue and support me on my journey to Ironman Arizona, please consider a donation.
Wednesday, August 24, 2011
So a triathlete walks into a physical therapy clinic...
I am a triathlete. I am also a physical therapist. I tend to think I am a pretty good therapist in most instances. I also tend to think I am the world's worst patient. Sometimes I think about how the evaluation would go if I walked into my own office...
Me (PT): What brings you here today?
Me (triathlete): I hurt. Everywhere.
Me (PT): Can you be a little more specific?
Me (Triathlete): My knee hurts when I run but not when I bike - only after I bike after sitting for more than 33 minutes. Also my back, neck, and shoulders hurt when I bike. But not right away - usually anywhere from 56-61 minutes into my ride. Then the pain will disappear for 43-60 minutes and then it returns. My feet also hurt, and I have a gigundo blister on my big toe. Wanna see it? It's pretty gross. But that's about it.
Me (PT): It sounds like you exercise a lot. Are you training for something?
Me (triathlete): Yes, the Ironman. You have 12 weeks to cure me. I have the 100 most recent pages of my exercise log with exact mileage and hear rate readings if that will help you figure out what is wrong with me.
Me (PT): The Ironman huh?... that is impressive. Are you willing to make some adjustments to your training schedule?
Me (triathlete): You haven't even looked at my 100 page log. Why do you want to change it? And no. I will not stop swimming, biking, and running. I need to finish 140.6 miles in under 17 hours so I can brag for the rest of my life. If I don't do EXACTLY what my training plan says to do I won't be prepared on race day.
Me (PT): I'm not proposing that you stop your training. I'm just saying that we might have to tweak it a little to reduce some of the stresses at your joints - maybe some running in the pool and a look at your body mechanics with each sport. Do you stretch?
Me (triathlete): ehh, kind of... not really. I think about stretching. Does that count?
Me (PT): No. Do you weight train?
Me (triathlete): Who has time for that when my life is swim, bike, run, eat, sleep, work, repeat?
Me (PT): Can you tell me what some of your goals are for the race?
Me (triathlete): Sure! I've got lots of them.
1) I want to finish the Ironman in under 17 hours without being swept off the course so I can hear Mike Reilly call my name.
2) I want to get through the bike without a flat tire or getting Gu all over my face.
3) I would preferably like to finish with the need for only 1 bag of IV fluids.
4) I would also like to be pain-free. But I don't think that is possible. So I would at least like to start the day pain-free.
There's more. Shall I go on?
Me (PT): That will not be necessary. I think we have some work to do.
PT assessment: Patient is a triathlete. All hope is lost. She will not listen to one thing I recommend unless I tell her it's OK to buy the ultra-light, super-cushioned, super-expensive running shoe or give her a massage.
PT Plan: Transfer patient to a new therapist. The poor therapist won't know what hit him.
Me (PT): What brings you here today?
Me (triathlete): I hurt. Everywhere.
Me (PT): Can you be a little more specific?
Me (Triathlete): My knee hurts when I run but not when I bike - only after I bike after sitting for more than 33 minutes. Also my back, neck, and shoulders hurt when I bike. But not right away - usually anywhere from 56-61 minutes into my ride. Then the pain will disappear for 43-60 minutes and then it returns. My feet also hurt, and I have a gigundo blister on my big toe. Wanna see it? It's pretty gross. But that's about it.
Me (PT): It sounds like you exercise a lot. Are you training for something?
Me (triathlete): Yes, the Ironman. You have 12 weeks to cure me. I have the 100 most recent pages of my exercise log with exact mileage and hear rate readings if that will help you figure out what is wrong with me.
Me (PT): The Ironman huh?... that is impressive. Are you willing to make some adjustments to your training schedule?
Me (triathlete): You haven't even looked at my 100 page log. Why do you want to change it? And no. I will not stop swimming, biking, and running. I need to finish 140.6 miles in under 17 hours so I can brag for the rest of my life. If I don't do EXACTLY what my training plan says to do I won't be prepared on race day.
Me (PT): I'm not proposing that you stop your training. I'm just saying that we might have to tweak it a little to reduce some of the stresses at your joints - maybe some running in the pool and a look at your body mechanics with each sport. Do you stretch?
Me (triathlete): ehh, kind of... not really. I think about stretching. Does that count?
Me (PT): No. Do you weight train?
Me (triathlete): Who has time for that when my life is swim, bike, run, eat, sleep, work, repeat?
Me (PT): Can you tell me what some of your goals are for the race?
Me (triathlete): Sure! I've got lots of them.
1) I want to finish the Ironman in under 17 hours without being swept off the course so I can hear Mike Reilly call my name.
2) I want to get through the bike without a flat tire or getting Gu all over my face.
3) I would preferably like to finish with the need for only 1 bag of IV fluids.
4) I would also like to be pain-free. But I don't think that is possible. So I would at least like to start the day pain-free.
There's more. Shall I go on?
Me (PT): That will not be necessary. I think we have some work to do.
PT assessment: Patient is a triathlete. All hope is lost. She will not listen to one thing I recommend unless I tell her it's OK to buy the ultra-light, super-cushioned, super-expensive running shoe or give her a massage.
PT Plan: Transfer patient to a new therapist. The poor therapist won't know what hit him.
Saturday, August 20, 2011
Trek to Pinkberry!
Yes, yes. I have jumped on the Pinkberry train. After a 50 mile bike ride today I treated myself with a trip to Derby Street. (If you haven't been, it is my version of Disneyworld. Well, maybe that's a bit exaggerated... but it is awesome.) Fro-yo, Ann Taylor, and Marathon Sports. What else could a girl ask for?
I went with the watermelon loaded with fruit and gummy bears while Kevin was a bit more traditional with the "original." Dessert before dinner tonight!
And these are my new sneakers from Marathon Sports which I will break in tomorrow with my 9 mile run...
I went with the watermelon loaded with fruit and gummy bears while Kevin was a bit more traditional with the "original." Dessert before dinner tonight!
And these are my new sneakers from Marathon Sports which I will break in tomorrow with my 9 mile run...
Sunday, August 14, 2011
Thursday, August 11, 2011
Snot rockets in flight
I have been blowing snot rockets a long time. It started back in high school when I 
was on the swim team. Sometimes the water goes up the wrong way. Instead of fighting with the chlorine headache (similar to brain freeze but generally less pleasant because you are under water) you shoot that water out as fast as you can. Usually you end up with the chlorine headache anyways so all efforts were pointless. Other times you get sick and your nose is stuffed up. The only way to start breathing again is a good old cleansing of the sinuses. You've heard the expression "sink or swim." I prefer, "snot or swim." If you drink a lot of orange sports drink you can get some funky colors. The chlorine kills the germs. Plus, I know for fact that I am not the only swimmer who does (I mean did) that. Where do you think all those tumble weeds at the bottom of the pool come from? Now that's something to think about next time you are checking out the bottom of your local YMCA pool.
I've taken my talents to my bike. My rocketing balls of slime clear those bugs that flew up the wrong nostril or the dirt kicked up by the speeding pick-up truck. When I first started biking I was not very good at riding one handed (the free hand must plug the nostril that does not need to be cleared), turning my head and launching my snot around my body and to the side of the road. Inevitably it ended up on my sleeve, hand, or face. But now I am a pro (although I still refuse to urinate on myself - I do have standards). I send my snot rocketing over my shoulder without mess or loss of balance. The only thing I really need to check is if there is someone riding up behind me.
A big "sorry!!" to the guy riding out there today. I got him good.
(read: Triathletes. Yeah, we're different.)
was on the swim team. Sometimes the water goes up the wrong way. Instead of fighting with the chlorine headache (similar to brain freeze but generally less pleasant because you are under water) you shoot that water out as fast as you can. Usually you end up with the chlorine headache anyways so all efforts were pointless. Other times you get sick and your nose is stuffed up. The only way to start breathing again is a good old cleansing of the sinuses. You've heard the expression "sink or swim." I prefer, "snot or swim." If you drink a lot of orange sports drink you can get some funky colors. The chlorine kills the germs. Plus, I know for fact that I am not the only swimmer who does (I mean did) that. Where do you think all those tumble weeds at the bottom of the pool come from? Now that's something to think about next time you are checking out the bottom of your local YMCA pool.
I've taken my talents to my bike. My rocketing balls of slime clear those bugs that flew up the wrong nostril or the dirt kicked up by the speeding pick-up truck. When I first started biking I was not very good at riding one handed (the free hand must plug the nostril that does not need to be cleared), turning my head and launching my snot around my body and to the side of the road. Inevitably it ended up on my sleeve, hand, or face. But now I am a pro (although I still refuse to urinate on myself - I do have standards). I send my snot rocketing over my shoulder without mess or loss of balance. The only thing I really need to check is if there is someone riding up behind me.
A big "sorry!!" to the guy riding out there today. I got him good.
(read: Triathletes. Yeah, we're different.)Sunday, July 31, 2011
Give to it the rainbow
My grandmother has taught me a few things in life. 1) Always smile and wave at people, even if you cut them off when driving or want to shout obscenities at them. 2) There is always time for cocktail hour. 3) Try your very best.
I'm sure there were many more lessons along the way, but these 3 seem to be very present during my Ironman training. For example, the other day I was out on a run minding my own business and trying to stay out of the way of traffic. I came to a particularly narrow strip of road where the brush on the side is so thick you are forced to run in the road (and if you are familiar with Massachusetts roads, you know they stink). This section of road lasts for maybe 20 feet; then you are able to get back off the road and into the grass. I have frequently run this section. Cars will usually slow down or go around. But not this day. Instead, some woman in her Buick Le Sabre (taking up what looked like 2 seat widths) coasting down the road did not feel the need to slow down but rather lay into her horn for a good 10 seconds just to let me know I was in her way. What I wanted to yell was, "Heard you loud and clear, Fatty!" while flipping her the bird. But what I ended up doing was putting a huge smile on my face and waving at her. I think Mum would be proud of that one.
One thing people will tell you about triathlon training is that it takes a toll on your social life because of the endless hours of swimming, biking, and running. Lucky for me I have pretty good time management skills, a trusty alarm clock, a very understanding family, and the opinion that a few beers is considered carbo loading. So far, everything seems to be working out pretty well and cocktail hour has not been sacrificed.
"Give to it the rainbow," is a saying I have often heard my grandmother say. It was printed on a flimsy place mat but holds very strong meaning. If you were to ask her about it, she would say that it means to try your very best. It was how my great grandfather went from sweeping floors in a canning company to eventually becoming the president of the very same company. Or how my cousin with dyslexia graduated from college and is now working towards his second Master's degree. It's about setting a goal and achieving it - no matter how much hard work, sweat, tears, or time that may take. It is how I plan on becoming an Ironman.
Mum passed away 3 days ago but her words still ring loud and clear. A few weeks ago she told me that she had no regrets. She had lived a good life and was fortunate enough to be blessed with the family she has. Now she was ready to go see my grandfather again.
I think she found her pot of gold.
I'm sure there were many more lessons along the way, but these 3 seem to be very present during my Ironman training. For example, the other day I was out on a run minding my own business and trying to stay out of the way of traffic. I came to a particularly narrow strip of road where the brush on the side is so thick you are forced to run in the road (and if you are familiar with Massachusetts roads, you know they stink). This section of road lasts for maybe 20 feet; then you are able to get back off the road and into the grass. I have frequently run this section. Cars will usually slow down or go around. But not this day. Instead, some woman in her Buick Le Sabre (taking up what looked like 2 seat widths) coasting down the road did not feel the need to slow down but rather lay into her horn for a good 10 seconds just to let me know I was in her way. What I wanted to yell was, "Heard you loud and clear, Fatty!" while flipping her the bird. But what I ended up doing was putting a huge smile on my face and waving at her. I think Mum would be proud of that one.
One thing people will tell you about triathlon training is that it takes a toll on your social life because of the endless hours of swimming, biking, and running. Lucky for me I have pretty good time management skills, a trusty alarm clock, a very understanding family, and the opinion that a few beers is considered carbo loading. So far, everything seems to be working out pretty well and cocktail hour has not been sacrificed.
"Give to it the rainbow," is a saying I have often heard my grandmother say. It was printed on a flimsy place mat but holds very strong meaning. If you were to ask her about it, she would say that it means to try your very best. It was how my great grandfather went from sweeping floors in a canning company to eventually becoming the president of the very same company. Or how my cousin with dyslexia graduated from college and is now working towards his second Master's degree. It's about setting a goal and achieving it - no matter how much hard work, sweat, tears, or time that may take. It is how I plan on becoming an Ironman.
Mum passed away 3 days ago but her words still ring loud and clear. A few weeks ago she told me that she had no regrets. She had lived a good life and was fortunate enough to be blessed with the family she has. Now she was ready to go see my grandfather again.
I think she found her pot of gold.
Friday, July 29, 2011
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