Last weekend I participated in the 100km ride that is part
of Ryder Hesjedal's Tour De Victoria. This was
my second year taking part in the event, and once again, it didn’t disappoint.
This year was a little different though…
Last year it was just me and my Dad riding the 100k. (Kirsten
and Tyler took on the 140k, but we never crossed paths with them).
This year it was a family affair, as my Dad, Kirsten, myself and even my Mom
took on the 100k ride.
Last year the weather was pretty much perfect.
Sunshine-happiness and all that good shizz.
This year the weather was ugly. Rain, wind, more rain… oh, and a little teeny-tiny
bit of sunshine to end out the day.
Last year Shane gave me grief for not stuffing my pockets
full of Honey Stinger products at each feed zone to help fuel our Ironman
training that year (and the fact that Kirsten had done this, and used the “free”
Stinger products all season long only gave him more ammo for his “grief giving”).
This year, I took everything and anything I could get my hands on at the feed
zones, and finished the ride with pockets so full they probably added 10lbs (or
more) to my back. I’m pretty sure the kid volunteering at the Parkland feed
zone will never forget me, haha.
Judge me if you will, but the event is expensive, and training for an Ironman is also expensive, so yeah… a girls gotta do what a girls gotta do.
Last year the ride was in June and I was healthy and fit and
heading into a peak block of Ironman training. 100k on the bike was a pretty
regular occurrence at that point in the season.
This year I came down with a slight sore throat a few days prior to the event,
only to have it turn into a full blown chest cold the day before. Oh, and with all the
time spent running on the trails this summer, about 55k had been my longest ride of the
season.
So yeah, I felt like crap, and the idea of riding 100k in
the rain with a chest cold wasn’t super appealing, but I also have major
cheapskate tendencies (^see evidence above) and I wasn’t about to throw away
the registration fee (or the Honey-Stinger-getting-opportunities).
On top of that, I had been looking forward to riding with my
folks and Kirsten and I really do enjoy the “no pressure” aspect of this event.
So I sucked it up and well… onward we rolled.
Anyway, what can I say?
Despite the rain and the wind, the day was super fun. Aside
from a little bit of laboured breathing on the Munns Rd hill climb (it was the
chest cold, I swear) and some minor “my hands and feet are numb” wussy moments, my body
felt good at the end, and it made me excited to really get back on the bike and
get into training for IM CdA in the coming weeks (if only I could kick this
damn cold).
Getting to ride on roads with little-to-no traffic, having
flag people control all the intersections, and just being out in our beautiful
city with a bunch of other like-minded people is a pretty awesome thing.
So yeah, if you couldn’t tell, I had an absolutely great
time soaking up the day (pun totally intended); rolling along at Mom’s pace,
just taking in all the cheers and cowbells of the [awesome, amazing, super-fantastic]
volunteers on course.
Oh, and did I mention the Honey Stingers? Yeaaahhh!!!
“If you worried about falling off the bike, you'd never get
on.” – Lance Armstrong
Love him or hate him, I’ve always enjoyed the above quote by
ol’ Lancey Boy. It sort of goes along with that saying that goes something like
“it’s not if you fall off your bike, it’s when.”
I’ve been riding my bike a lot lately. Commuting to and from
work on my trusty Blue Steel.
I haven’t fallen off my bike yet *knocks on wood* and have
only had one minor scare with a bus (admittedly probably mostly my fault ~
don’t worry parental units, I learned my lesson), which was MORE THAN ENOUGH to smarten me up, teach
me some patience and become the best, rule following cyclist that Victoria has ever
seen.
Anyway, September in the Capital always sees an increase in
clogged roads and a return to ‘didn’t-get-out-of-first-gear’ commutes as
students return to university and parents return to work after a summer off
with the kiddies. Since we’ve been so lucky and had such beautiful weather as
of late, it seems silly for me to be sitting in the car when I can ride to work
instead (in pretty much the same amount of time as driving).
So I have been. And well, it’s been great.
On top of that, I’ve taken a bit of an unplanned break from
running (and structured training in general) and spent the month since
TransRockies just doing what I feel like. Riding my bike to and from work,
going for walks in the sunshine on my lunch breaks (and then with Rusty and
Shane in the evening) and swimming every once in a while, is really all that
I’ve felt like.
Not a bad place for a lunch time wander.
My legs still seem to have a general heaviness in them and
so I’ve been enjoying this “active recovery” phase before jumping back into a strict
‘more well defined’ training regime, and you know, I think my mind has enjoyed
the break as much as my body.
That said, October 1 will be when I get back into some
structure and start on the road to IM CdA. Between now and then however, I’ve
got some fun things planned.
I’ll be tackling the 100km route in Ryder Hesjedal's Tour de Victoria with my family in just over a week and am really looking forward to
it. No pressure, just fun, relaxed riding. Last year I had a blast riding with
my Dad, so I think adding my Mom and sister into the mix will make it even
better.
On top of that, I’m hoping to throw myself into a few
cyclocross rides/races. Shane recently got a new cycolcross bike as well, so
*fingers crossed* I can drag him along with me, or we can build a little track
on our property to practice on (*hint hint* and ~pretty please~ Shane).
Anyway, this is rambly and probably kind of boring to anyone
but future-me, but I felt like it has been a while since I touched base with
the blog-o-sphere and well, just wanted to say…
ps. I’m obviously playing with the look of the blog, so give
me some opinions would ya?
pps. Even though the title (Penticton or Bust!) may seem a
bit outdated, my sentimental heart won’t let it go. I’ve come to realize
Penticton isn’t only a magical little town in the Okanagan and home of my first
and second IMs, it is so soo much more to me. So much really, that words can’t
do it justice.
I’m feeling less foggy
about TransRockies Run and the whole
experience now. My desire to do something other than sit on my butt and eat bad
food is returning and thoughts of the next great adventure are starting to
dance in my mind.
Shane may have said it
best when telling someone about my experience… In short, because the last 2
stages were a bit of a struggle for me, and the final night in Beaver Creek I
didn’t really sleep, I came back a bit grumpy and unsure about my experience,
but as the days have passed and I’ve been able to look at the experience
without a clouded or tired mind, I can truly and honestly say, I had an
absolutely amazing time.
TransRockies
challenged me in a huge way, but it also left me super stoked on trail running,
and I must say, I’m pretty proud of what Kirsten and I accomplished. Kirsten definitely
pushed me beyond my limits a few times, but that is how you grow right?
Anyway, rambling
mushiness aside, let’s see if I can remember the particulars about each stage
now that they’ve passed.
Stage 1 seems so long
ago now. The nerves in my stomach as we made our way into the start corral were
pretty huge. About two minutes from go-time, AC/DC’s “Highway to Hell” came on
over the loud speaker and all the runners got pumped up to head out on this
amazing journey. This would be the first of many times we’d hear this, as each
day we were sent off to this song. Toward the end, it almost became soothing.
Anyway, Kirsten and I took
it out pretty easy on this stage and just tried to relax and have fun. We
snapped lots of photos and chatted with other runners and just cruised along
(we did this a lot the whole week actually). I definitely felt the altitude a
bit on this stage, mainly in that I felt like I had trouble regaining my breath
after any sort of effort. I remember one time in particular where Kirsten and I
got a bit separated on some single track. When I was finally able to pass the
people I got stuck behind, I put in a little extra effort to catch back up to
Kirsten, but by the time I got to her, I was panting so hard that I needed a
walk break on the next little hill. Mostly, it was pretty manageable though.
The aid stations were
like a little oasis and never failed to give a nice mental boost.
The final stretch was
pretty grueling. I think it was about 4 miles on a false flat uphill dirt road.
It seemed never ending. I was cramping when I ran, and Kirsten was cramping
when she walked, so we were definitely a bit of an ugly pair, but somehow we managed
to get each other to the finish line, and just like that, stage 1 was in the
books.
Stage 2 was a little
tougher. It was Hope Pass day, so the one with the highest elevation. We got to
ride the “special bus” to the start line, and then spent our time waiting for
the start in the porta-potty line up. Just before we checked-in for the day’s
stage we met Martin Parnell for the first time and took a few photos.
In no time, “Highway
to Hell” was pumping, and we were off.
The climb up Hope Pass
was tough, but went pretty well for the most part. Kirsten and I tucked in
behind a couple from Texas, which was awesome, as the pace was just perfect for
me and kept Kirsten reigned in a bit.
The top of Hope Pass
was quite the reward. It was breathtaking. Literally. (I was definitely still feeling
the altitude – more so than on Stage 1 – but that was to be expected I guess).
Coming down from Hope
Pass, Kirsten let loose and was flying. To put it honestly, she totally left me
in her dust, and well, I got a bit frustrated. I think I tried pushing a bit
too hard to catch up with her and about 2 miles from the end, I had an asthma
attack.
Obviously that was a
bit of an unwelcomed surprise. I used to suffer from stress/exertion triggered
attacks as a teenager, but it has probably been 10+ years since my last attack,
so I don't carry an inhaler or anything anymore. Luckily, I could feel it
coming on, so was able to stop and get things somewhat under control after a
few minutes, but it made for a very scary (and wheezy) end to the stage.
Admittedly, it also left me a little less-than-excited for the prospect of day
3.
On the morning of Stage3 I found the director of the medical team and had a little chat with him – both
about my asthma attack, as well as some other wonkiness that was going on with
my oddly high INR level (aka. my anti-coagulated blood). With a somewhat
worried look on his face he made a comment along the lines of “I’m not going to
pull you from the race” but told me to take it really easy. (I think I scared him
~ oh, just a little, haha).
So, we headed out at a
pretty mellow pace and just took our time getting nicely warmed up (more
photos, more chatting, etc. etc.). Thankfully, as we got going and got warmed
up, I felt really good. Probably the best I had yet in the week actually (I
think I was finally starting to adjust to the elevation a bit).
We were rolling down a
nice hill toward check point one, when I came upon a stopped Kirsten. She had
been stung 3 times (along with a number of other people). This was a bit of a
worry, as Kirsten has (had?) an allergy to bees/wasps that she had been treated
for with allergy shots. This was one of the first times she’d been stung since
her treatment, so we definitely pushed hard to the check point, just in case
she had a reaction. It was a bit of a scary mile or two, but we made it to aid
without further incident and she was able to put some cream on the stings and onward
we rolled.
Through the second
half I had some highs and lows and we each spent some time on our own, cruising
along at our own paces. There was A LOT of downhill that left my legs feeling
pretty sore and beat up, but in the end, I feel like we finished feeling strong
and happy, and the surroundings of Camp Hale were pretty beautiful.
It was a LONG day, and the final few miles
were a bit of a grind, but on the grand scheme of things, it was one of the
days I was most happy with.
Stage 4 was a shorter
day, with a tough, tough, tough opening climb. It was steep and I was slooooow.
But, we chugged along and made it to the top and were once again rewarded with
some absolutely stunning views (a common theme throughout the week).
I was a bit scared for
how the downhill was going to feel after the previous day, but we had to do it.
So, we crested the top and started our descent and well, it was freaking awesome!!!
We both just kind of let go on the downhill and even pushed it a bit. It felt
so great to really let the legs open up. It was just the two of us for a pretty
good portion of this stage, and we chatted and goofed around like any old
training day, and I just loved how the day felt and the miles flew by.
One other fun part of
this stage was a “mandatory shoe wash” where we spent some time running down
the middle of a creek. The cold water felt so good on tired feet, and while it
made the ol’ tootsies a little numb as we left the creek, having swam in some
pretty chilly lakes throughout my triathlon career, it was a somewhat familiar
feeling. Running on stumps, haha.
I felt like we crossed
the finish line with confidence this day and from a FUN perspective, I’d say
this was my favourite of the week... and it was good boost going into the final
two days.
Stage 5, sadly, was
not my favourite (oh how quickly the tides turn eh?). I think it gathered this
reaction from a lot of people, but there were some who absolutely loved it. It
was one of those stages with no middle ground ~ it was certainly a “love it” or
“hate it” day.
For me, it probably
had the most mental ups and downs in one stage and left me the most emotional
at the end.
“Highway to Hell” sent us off from Red Cliff
and we began by climbing the same hill we had come down the day before. The start
was a grind, as the uphill was steep enough that it was hard to run, but at the
same time, it felt like it should be easily runnable (unfortunately, for me, on
that day, it was not).
Thankfully, it was one
of those stages that I felt like I got stronger as we got farther into it, and
about 1/2 to 3/4 of the way through, I felt great. There was a large portion in
the middle where I felt on top of the world and like Kirsten and I were
absolutely crushing it.
The start of the
downhill into the finish was feeling awesome, but eventually it just started to
seem like never-ending switchbacks. The trail was sort of a 'V' shaped mountain
bike trail that was really hard to get any decent footing on and I could feel
my wonky ankle lock up with about 5km to go. With each step, I could feel my
ankle bones jamming into each other and the pain started to consume my
thoughts.
Confession time: I
cried.
[Side Note: I now know
that the Highway to Hell is not paved. In fact, I’m pretty sure it is a single
track mountain bike trail on Vail mountain named “Fred’s Lunch”].
At one point Kirsten
glanced back and said “Are you crying?” to which I replied with a sob and a
simple “Yes”.
“Do you want to stop?”
she asked. Sob “No” I said, like a petulant two year old.
I really didn't want
to stop because I just wanted this fricken stage to be over! So, we kept
pounding along. When we crossed the finish line I was totally spent and my foot
was in a fair amount of pain. Not my finest moment, but I think I swore, sat
down on the soggy wet grass and immediately burst into full on crying.
Mentally I was a bit
cooked, and physically I was feeling the aches and pains a lot.
Thankfully though, my
ankle had held up this long, and I was sure happy it locked out on the second
to last stage and not the second stage. Also, a nice little reward (and
surprise) for the effort was making the podium that night, as we came 3rd on
the stage. Go figure.
The start of Stage 6
was bittersweet. I could tell I had maybe left a bit too much out there on
Stage 5, but figured the lure of the finish line would pull me through. It did
to an extent, but my body was arguing hard with my heart. My knee which had
been swollen for a couple days now screamed on every uphill and my ankle was a
lot more messed up than I thought causing a lot of trouble pushing on the
downhills (which was where we made up a lot of our time on previous days), so
that was a bit frustrating.
Other than that, I'm
not really sure what to say about this day, other than it is kind of a blur. I
allowed myself to ignore my nutrition for the first time all week and was
definitely in a bit of a fog the whole time. By the end, I was in the beginning
stages of a bonk and was kind of cranky. Still, Kirsten and I crossed the
finish line, hand-in-hand and I was truly happy, even if it was hard to tell
from the outside looking in.
Mostly though, I was
sure happy to sit down and be done with running for a few days, haha.
Overall, TransRockies was an incredible experience. To have the Colorado Rockies be your playground
for a week and to get to meet so many awesome people who share the same
passions, is beyond doubt *magical*. The staff and volunteers worked so hard
for all of us runners, and I can’t thank them enough for everything they did.
It truly was an all-inclusive, running summer camp for adults and an experience
I will never forget.
“If you never never
go, you'll never never know!”– Kevin “Houda” McDonald
A huge thank you to my
amazing sister (and running partner) Kirsten for roping me into this awesome
adventure. You’re the best!
Well, we’re back. We survived… and we actually didn’t do too
badly. (5th Open Women ~ Wooo!)
I’m kind of still in a bit of a fog. Actually, scratch the ‘kind
of’. I feel like I'm totally still processing everything that was TransRockies,
and that I'm still a bit tired and bewildered from the adventure that was (the
cold that hit me the day after the race ended may also be contributing to the hazy
feeling).
Haze or no haze though, overall, I'm feeling pretty positive about the
experience.
Anyway, while I process all my thoughts and feelings about
the race and contemplate a “race report” (or something like it), here are a few
words and photos that remind me of each stage.
Stage 1: Buena Vista to Railroad Bridge (approx. 20.9 miles,
2,550 feet elevation gain) Pre-race nerves and excitement. Conservative start. Sand. Climbs. Tim from Massachusetts
heavy footsteps. Beautiful rocks. Aid station oasis. Photo ops. Rock tunnels.
Long false flat (uphill) county road. Fun.
Stage 2: Vicksburg to Twin Lakes (approx. 13.3 miles, 3,250
feet elevation gain)
Met Martin. Cold morning. Hope Pass. Major elevation. Altitude. Switchbacks. My
pacing angel from Texas. Beautiful views. Cold wind. Cowboys. Fast (for some) descent.
Ghost town. Rolling trails, just like home. Asthma attack. Wheezy, tough
finish.
Stage 3: Leadville to Nova Guides at Camp Hale (approx. 24.2
miles, 2,800 feet elevation gain)
Historic Leadville. Main Street start line. Easy pace. More good climbs.
Rolling downs. Swarm of bees. Lots of stings. Small creek crossing. Feeling
good. Colorado trail. Long long descent. Grueling country road, into a beauty
finish line. Awesome camp.
Stage 4: Nova Guides at Camp Hale to Red Cliff (approx. 14.1
miles, 2,900 feet elevation gain) Favourite. Tough tough climb. Steep Jeep track. Familiar faces. Amazing ridgeline views. Fun
FAST descent. Happy splashy creek time. Numb feet. Strong happy finish. Mango’s!
Stage 5: Red Cliff to Vail (approx. 23.6 miles, 4,200 feet
elevation gain)
Live rounds in the start pistol. Long uphill grind. Mental ups and downs.
Switchbacks up. Charging hard. Feeling good. Happiness. Rock scrambling. Switchbacks
down. ‘V’ shaped track. Fred’s Lunch sucks. Ankle pain. Mental lows. Hard push
to the end. Swear words. Tears. Our one and only podium spot ~ 3rd
on the day.
Stage 6: Vail to Beaver Creek (approx. 20.9 miles, 4,900
feet elevation gain)
Final day! Slighty depleted. Sore ankle. Sore knee. Beautiful Aspens. More
switchbacks. More single track. Up Up Up. Down Down Down. Up Up Up. Down. Foggy
head. Finish line. Happiness. Beer.
Also, because everyone else has asked, I'll save you the
time... Yes, it was tougher than Ironman.
Okay, okay, so maybe not physically, and not during the
actual stages, but - mentally - at the end of each stage and over the course of
the week, having to keep yourself motivated and "up", well, that was
kinda tough.
I think the fact that I was the 'slower' partner contributed to
that feeling a little as well. Kirsten assured me she
didn't care, but being the person constantly trying to keep up and feeling like
you're holding your partner back, kind of fucks with your head a bit.
Oh, also, altitude makes me swear. A lot.
More to come later. In the meantime…. Happy Trails!
It’s almost
here. It’s almost time. 6 more sleeps until the start of the TransRockies Run.
People keep
asking me if I’m nervous.
At this
point, I think I am more nervous about the fact that I’m not more nervous, you
know? Although, I
am in that state of the taper week where I am so hypersensitive to every little
niggle in my body that I’m pretty sure I need a hip replacement, and *ouch* did
I just tear my hamstring? Oh and yeah, my ankle seems to be clicking more than
normal walking up and down the stairs at work. By the way, do I have enough pairs of running
tights? Maybe I should by a new pair of run tights… and socks. And blister
tape. Gah!
Okay, so
maybe I am a little anxious, not nervous – just anxious. But I think that is
okay. I think I should be a little anxious.
I’ve read
everything about TRR that I could find to read. I’ve asked every question that I
could possibly think to ask, and yet, I really have no idea what to expect.
At the same
time, I know I’ve trained well and that no matter what, this is going to be a
pretty awesome experience. So, I’m not putting a lot of pressure on myself. I
have one goal.
FINISH.
That is it. Simply get to the finish line and enjoy every moment of this awesome experience
with the best sister in the world.
This past
Tuesday marked exactly 2 weeks until the start of the TransRockies Run~ woo!
Team Ando-Dibbs logo, updated from last year for TRR.
I suppose
that means I am starting to taper. Putting those feet up and resting until the
big day, right? There are no real gains to be made now, just keep the body
happy and healthy and away we go. Definitely. Although, you know, the thing
with big endurance challenges is that the first bit of taper is still a decent
amount of volume. It’s not like you can just suddenly stop moving. So while I
suppose I am technically tapering – I don’t necessarily feel like it yet.
Anyway,
that said, things over the past couple weeks have been pretty good. I think I
am just really ready for the big event to get here, and while there have been a
few stinkers on the workout front, **cough
cough, Tuesday’s run, cough cough** most of my runs have been fun and I’m
definitely feeling stronger and excited to head to Colorado.
One of the
things that I think has helped me to finally put the struggle behind me is that
since my return from San Francisco I’ve been on a Garmin hiatus. Since I will
be “racing” TRR based on effort, all of my training over the final few weeks
has been effort based as well. (I should note however, that I have found that throughout
this process, while I’m out on the trails, I don't actually pay much attention
to my Garmin other than for time, but I think just even having it on and
knowing that it is capturing pace and stuff is still different than running
totally free from it). So yeah, I’ve ditched it and have actually really been
enjoying my freedom from the ol’ wrist computer.
Another fun
thing that I’ve been doing over the last week or so in prep for TRR is to focus
on finding something to enjoy, something positive, on each run. I know, that
should be a no brainer – I run/exercise because I like it and it is fun,
not because I have to, right? But during my “struggle”, finding something
positive about a run (other than when it was finished), was not always easy.
Anyway, I’ve been adding these little highlights to my training log, in an
attempt to get in the right head space and really enjoy the last couple weeks
of training.
So, in
keeping with that theme, here are some of the highlights of my recent runs
interspersed with some other, non-run related things that have kept me
laughing/smiling in recent weeks.
· Running
with my Dad. Enough said. ·TheBloggess. I can get lost in this blog for hours. Some
of this is so fantastically messed up. I love it. · Running an out and back route and negative splitting it without even trying to. · Getting
a bit lost in thought about TransRockies and realizing how excited (not anxious
or nervous, just excited) that made me feel. ·Brooke & Jubal In The Morning. From the 'Shock Collar Question of the Day', to 'Phone Taps', to 'Second Date Update', this Seattle
morning radio show makes me laugh every day on my drive to work. · Sympathy Cards for Runners.
Especially this one...
· Aside
from feeling good and happy and strong on a recent Mt. Finlayson double summit day,
the beautiful clear view from the top with the sun just starting to really
shine was pretty special.
·Not
getting eaten/attacked by a cougar.
· Giant
Mike & Ikes. Why, oh why, didn’t I buy these?!
Deciding to
train for and compete in TransRockies has definitely taken me out of my comfort
zone at times and has brought forth a lot of new challenges and learning
experiences.
I know the
experience isn't over yet, and that I will likely learn a lot more during my
actual time in Colorado, but thought it might be fun to put down a few of the
things I've learned over the past few months of training.
So, without
further ado…
1) Changing
up your stimulus (whether it be the places you run or the people you run with –
or something completely different, like ditching the ol’ Garmin) can really
help pull you out of a slump and keep things exciting.
I spent last
week in San Francisco. Running in a new city, with new surroundings, was pretty
great. I forgot my Garmin so didn’t think about pace or distance – I just
thought about exploring. I spent the Sunday morning before my conference
running around the entire city. I made my way through Haight-Ashbury, along the
quiet roads of Golden Gate Park, up and down some of the coastal trails that
line the area and finally through the throngs of people along the tourist
stroll, and while it may not have been fast and may have included a few photo
stops along the way, it was probably the best 3.5-4hrs I spent in the City by
the Bay.
That little
break from the everyday also helped to make some of my usual routes feel a
little fresher upon my return to the island. Lacing up Sunday morning to hit
the trails with some new faces helped keep the motivation rolling along nicely
as well.
Sunday morning gang at Tod Inlet (aka. Partridge Hills).
2) Victoria
and the lower island have A LOT of very cool trails that are very accessible. I
mean, I guess I already knew this, but when you are only hitting the trails for
an easy hike every now and again, you tend to stick with the ones you know.
Maybe they are close to home, or offer just enough of a challenge. Maybe the
end scenery is better than the hike itself or the convenience of the trail
outweighs the setting. Whatever the case, it is easy to stick with the tried
and true...
But, by
training for TRR I have definitely started to explore more trails in our area.
It feels like you could find a different network of trails every weekend if you
wanted to. Each offering something pretty unique and challenging.
Which brings
me to….
3) I'm
learning not to be as afraid as I once was. Fear is limiting. I don’t want to
be ruled by my nerves.
Sure, I'm
still probably overly cautious a lot of the time, and still stop dead in my
tracks when I hear a rustle in the bushes, but I'm learning to step outside my
comfort zone and am beginning to realize that lurking behind every tree isn't a
bear, or a cougar, or a serial killer.
Although, sometimes the amount of bear poo on the trail says otherwise.
Of course,
I’m still pretty cautious and definitely prefer hitting the trails with a group
or a buddy (so don't worry too much Mom) but I'm listening to my gut more and
trying to be brave. I'm also realizing, sometimes a solo exploration on the
trails can be pretty fun.
4) Not
really something I’ve learned necessarily, but something I’ve noticed is that
my thighs have gotten bigger. My weight through the year is pretty predictable
– during triathlon season I’m usually between 5-8lbs lighter than during the
winter “off season”. I’ve come to expect this change each summer.
This year,
my weight really hasn’t changed much from my post-NZ holiday weight, but the
shape of my legs has certainly changed, as all the hilly trails I've been
hitting have definitely made them a heck of a lot stronger. Sometimes I feel
like this…
Okay, maybe I'm not quite this bad, but I could totally relate when I saw this... (If you are a runner and haven't read this comic by The Oatmeal yet - you must!)
But you
know, it sure is nice to have a little definition in the ol' quads and hammys.
Well, I'm sure there is a lot more that I've learned, but I think
this is long enough for now. Happy
Trails!
