All Systems Pissed

Perhaps it was my decision to do an Ironman-style workout weekend last Saturday and Sunday--without any buildup--that led to my demise.

3 people joined me on a grand cycling loop from Stanford to the ocean and back last Saturday, totaling 70ish miles. I sent out an email to the Stanford Tri Team, and got lucky--the people who came were all excellent cyclists who proceeded to kick my bum.

In my mind, of course, I had excuses for my sluggishness: I just ran my first track workout of the last half a year on Friday, after doing a 1000 meter time trial in the pool, my first swim in a month.

Sufficiently fried Saturday night, I did not sleep. I'm not sure why. You'd think a few days like that would knock a girl out. I then woke up Sunday morning to go with two highly esteemed tri-team members to Castro Valley to run a 17-mile trail run.

Yes, I was prepared to do that--I'm training for the California International Marathon on Dec. 6. No, I wasn't prepared to do that within several hours of leg bashing in the pool, on the track, and all over the South Bay.

I'm in debt to the creators of Red Bull.

Here's the kicker: My legs are still pissed. In normal Ironman-training mode, this would not happen. I would recover. But in sleep-must-go-because-I'm-doing-super-cool-stuff-for-school-that-is-more-important-than-anything-else-but-I-will-not-cut-out-training-anyway mode, my body has imposed a 10-minute mile minimum on my legs.

This speed will not get me to Boston.

I now, however, have a much greater respect for the corporate bigwigs who do Ironman--fast. They are far more important and busy than I ever was while I was training for an Ironman, yet somehow manage to get their training in, then run a Boston-worthy marathon time to cap of their IM.

Amazing.

The Javelina Jundred

What better way to celebrate Jalloween than by running 100 miles...straight.
In circles.
In the desert.

Check it:


P.S. It's supposed to be black to start. It's art.

Coachubby Qualifies for Worlds and Kicks Xterra Malibu Creek Trail Run Butt

In happy news, Coachubby qualified for the 2009 Xterra World Championships with his superfast Xterra West Cup race a week ago. Congratulations to the most deserving and bestest coachubby in the world, who miraculously achieved this greatness on the sketchiest hard tail bike seen in transition. (Pic from Xterra USA 2007...Yes, I sometimes have a black lobster for a husband.)

Then, this past Saturday morning, he finished 9th male overall, and 1st in his age group at the Xterra Malibu Creek 22K Trail Run, thus kicking enough ass for the entire family, making up for my Dr. -recommended couch potatoness.

Treadmill stress test tomorrow--screw fractured sesamoids, I'm gonna run! Yippee!

How to Cross the Backbone Trail in the Santa Monica Mountains

I've got a backboner just thinking about it!

These are the kinds of jokes a girl must put up with when she's the only one in a sea of backbone-crossing men. Amazingly, despite the high testosterone levels, we didn't get lost or have to ask mountain hobbits for directions.

Crossing the Santa Monica Mountains' Backbone Trail without a hitch is no easy feat. Most people who've tried have inevitably wound up confused, as the trail isn't well marked, and maps have different official names for various Backbone trail sections.

You can count on a few flat tires, and a grand adventure.

And if you have my coachubby, you can count on a flawless Backbone Trail crossing--connections completed, crew properly placed, and camping reserved. Put coachubby in the wilderness with a map, and he's a genius.

The weekend was not only a triumphant connection of the Backbone trail from Point Mugu to Will Rodgers State Park, but it was also a huge validation of coachubby's race coordination skills. It was like planning an Ironman for 7-8 people, accommodations and everything.

All in all, coachubby and I were the only participants to connect the entire trail. Several others came for the different legs, the camping, the beer, and the camaraderie.

It broke down like this:

It was a freezing 7am start on Saturday. Meredith (yes! another female!), coachubby, Folks (coachubby's friend from collegiate triathlon), and I were dropped off by Meredith's husband, Jim. Upon exiting the warmth and luxury of Jim's LR3, my fear of becoming an Erincicle began to materialize.

Luckily, the first 3ish miles of 16 mile run from Pt. Mugu were uphill, and we all warmed up. And if that wasn't enough, the 4ish miles straight up Sandstone Peak, the highest point in the Santa Monica Mountains at 3111 feet, did the trick.











So did laughing at this butt crack rock formation. It's official name has since been forgotten.

Then it was on down to Yerba Buena, where Jim, and our other crewman, Eric, were waiting, along with mountain biker extraordinaire, Aaron (pronounced A-ron, so as not to confuse us with each other). I stuffed my face with PB&J&potato chip sandwiches and we were off. Jim, A-ron, coachubby, Folks and I.

The 30 mile mountain bike from Yerba Buena to Malibu Creek State Park was going along smoothly. The first 15 miles were mostly downhill and not too technical.

Then Folks did this to his tire somehow:

He was out of the game for the rest of the day. Luckily, there was a bike shop not too far from the half-way point that put him back into commission for the final descent on Sunday.

Despite what I would call near freezing temps in the low 50s, Jim overheated, and bailed from the ride a good 2/3rds into it. Besides cracking endless backboner jokes, boys sweat buckets out of their heads when they exercise. Jim and coachubby could've easily refilled their water bottles by squeezing on their helmets. Gross.

Then we camped, roughing it a few hundred yards from a major LA canyon road:

And made turkey burgers:

While the boys drank and talked and farted late into the night.

The next morning, daylight savings time robbed us of an hour, making it just as freezing at 8:30am as it was at 7:30 the day before.

But again, the 13.1 mile run from Malibu Creek to Topanga State Park started by bringing us up the second-highest point in the Santa Monica Mountains. The burn in my quads and rear quickly made me forget about freezing. It did, however, make me think that I would be a good morning kill for a mountain lion, trailing behind the boys all alone.

Lucky for me, when we hit the downhill, Folks's knee went bezurk, making him more appetizing and me less vulnerable.
(Stunt road goes off to the left in this photo.)

We hobbled 2 more miles uphill to the final transition.

After a few more PBJ&potato chip sandwiches, Jim, Meredith, Folks, A-ron, coachubby and I rode the final 11.5 miles from Topanga State Park up to the Hub, then down to Will Rogers, ending on an epic 6-mile single track, complete with people, loose rock, and more people.
(Jim, Folks, coachubby, Meredith, A-ron, me)

No carnage.
Totally rad.
We finished around 3pm, with plenty of time for an evening celebration.



With the economy massively sucking, there's no better time to plan your own adventure than right now, especially if you live in SoCal. It's gorgeous outside, there are limitless trails, and all you need is some gas money, motivated friends, and food. (Some training wouldn't hurt, either.)

Next up: a one-day backboner!
But not too soon.
We still can't walk.

P.S. Want help planning your very own Backbone Crossing from backbone expert, coachubby? Email triathletediva@gmail.com and I'll hook you up.

The Epic Crossing of Santa Monica's Backbone Trail

Coachubby has been planning an epic adventure. Recon rides and runs have occupied his weekends for months, and it's all about to come together this weekend.

We're going to cross the entire Backbone Trail in the Santa Monica Mountains, starting at Point Mugu, and ending at Will Rogers State Park. About 70 miles total.

Here's the breakdown:
Saturday:
Start at Pt. Mugu, run about 17 miles.
Pick up mountain bikes at Yerba Buena crossing, bike about 30 miles.
Camp at Malibu Creek State Park.

Sunday:
Run about 13 miles to Topanga State Park.
Pick up mountain bikes, bike about 10 miles to Will Rogers State Park.

Sunday Afternoon:
Rejoice.

Current concerns:

1. Becoming a frozen Erincicle Saturday night.
2. Mountain lions.
3. Becoming a frozen Erincicle Saturday and Sunday mornings.

No, I am not from Puerto Rico, but I share American Idol finalist, Jorge Nuñez's, feelings about LA's current weather: It's freezing.

...I mean...who's on American Idol?

Check back next week for a full Backbone Trail report so you can successfully stage your own crossing. The trail is not well marked in a lot of areas, so we'll all benefit from coachubby's recon...if he remembers where he's been.

Catalina Island Marathon - Puke, Pain & Perservereance

Runner's World named the Catalina Island Marathon the best off-road marathon in the world, sighting pristine wilderness, wide dirt trails, ocean views, and buffalo crossings as reasons for the pick. I think it's the best in the world because it happens to be where coachancé proposed to me last year, after running his little marathoner bum off and placing 7th overall. This is what prompted me and coachancé to get in on the action in 2008. Three of our friends decided to punish themselves last Saturday as well. Happily, we all made it out alive. This is our story.

Crossing the 26 miles of Pacific ocean to get to Catalina was supposed to be the beginning of our weekend get-away destination event vacation. With 5-6 foot ocean swells tossing the boat to and fro, the boat ride quickly became an opportunity to drop some weight before the big event. One of our friends was hugging the toilet the entire time.

And the next morning, during jam-packed 5am boat ride from Avalon to the race start in Two Harbors, our same wussy-stomached pal dropped some more water weight, and his pre-race meal, into the Pacific. He was light as a feather and ready to go, he said.

While the wind made for a queasy ride, it also made for the best tail-wind in the history of the 31-year old race, according to race officials. After hanging out in a little café in Two Harbors for 45 minutes, it was time to strip, make a final bathroom run, and make our way to the start line. For the first time in co-ed racing history, the female bathroom line was non-existent, the male bathroom line was out the door, and some cheating men crept over to the women's side. It was beautiful.

The race started just as the sun was coming up, and all 603 runners made their way up the first climb, gaining breathtaking views of the ocean and Catalina's mountains with each step. While Runner's World compared the marathon's elevation map to the Dow Jones, I'd say it's pretty equivalent to the emotional roller coaster/stress levels of a bride 2 weeks out from her wedding, with the wedding occurring at mile 23, and the stress plunging into the sea soon thereafter.

The only goal I had entering the race was for me and my girlfriend, R, to beat our two dude friends. However, seeing as they both got queasy--and one puked--on the ride over, it wasn't much of a fair race. We creamed them. (Coachancé was not included in Operation Girls Rule, because he is a scary fast freak of nature runner, so there wasn't even a race to be had.)

The course map looks something like this: spiky at miles 2, 4, 6, 9, 11, then gradually uphill from miles 13-18, steep uphill from 18-20.5, 5 rollers that you can count off in your head from 20.5-23, then straight down for the rest of the race. If anything, the elevation changes give competitors something to constantly focus on. And fiery quads.

At about mile 2, some self-professed Catalina Marathon veteran decided to strike up a conversation. "What's your best marathon time?" He asked. "This is my first marathon that wasn't at the end of an Ironman," I responded. "Oh. So what do you want to finish in?" I had no idea. I just run how I feel. "4 hours," I said. Now go away. "4 hours! That's a pretty lofty goal for your first one. This course is pretty tough, you know," says Mr. Know-it-all. "Yep," says I. "You should probably take it a little easier on these first 6 miles," says Mr. KIA. "Ha!" says I. I step it up. He takes off on a downhill, my non forté.

At about mile 11, I heard, "Hey, baby! Nice ass!" Who the heck would be so forward, I wondered. It was R. She had completely broken away from the boys, and we were headed to victory.

At about mile 19, something terrible happened. My foot seized up and my big left toe curled under and wouldn't go back to normal. No no no! This can't be happening! Must...beat...boys...I tried to run in a way that I wouldn't have to flex my foot, as that seemed to induce the psycho cramping. And then I ate almost all of my salt pills within a 20 minute time frame. Must finish! No evil cramps!

At about mile 24, I couldn't remember why I ever thought running downhill was all that fabulous. Each step felt like an elephant was kicking me in my soles. Visions of hip replacements in my 20s floated in my head. And visions of walking down the isle with a walker.

Finally, the finish banner appeared. People were cheering. Coachancé was cheering. I gave it all I had. And you know what? I wasn't too far off of the random goal I had picked at mile 2 to make Mr. KIA go away.

R & I get hardware! Go girls!

Post race festivities included: standing in the freezing cold ocean until we couldn't feel our bodies, rubbing in the fact that R and I kicked the boys' arses, lots of pizza, awards, and lying horizontally until it was time to bust out the karaoke.

In fact, we were even forced to spend the night! Because of the wind, no boats were leaving the island, including the 6:30pm ferry we were scheduled on.

The Catalina Island Marathon is absolutely gorgeous, super fun, and a perfect challenge. As one of my buddies noted, it seems like the people there value how many times you've done it far over how fast you run--little year pins that stream down the veteran marathoners' hats like tails denote their seniority. And as far as I can tell, the buffalo seem to be an urban myth. I never saw one, despite the claim that 200 of them are hanging out on the island. Maybe they're shy of runners.

Happy marathoning!

Save California's State Parks

Governor Ahhnold Schwartipants obviously doesn't venture outdoors to workout, or else he wouldn't have tried to pass a 2008 budget proposal to close 48 California state parks and slash lifeguard jobs on 16 state beaches. If he were a triathlete and not a gym rat/beefcake, he'd know that the only way to stay sane as a triathlete in Los Angeles is to venture into the many state parks within the city limits. It's like getting away from it all without having to drive forever (except on the 405...sometimes that does take forever) or plan an entire freaking vacation just to get out of the city.

He'd also know that those of us who swim in the ocean a lot are secretly terrified of getting masticated by a ginormous animal and/or caught in a wave. Therefore, we find comfort in the fact that someone's out there looking out for us, especially if we do stupid things like accidentally swim into a rip tide or get hit by a surfboard.

Among the parks on the kill list: Topanga State Park and Will Rodgers State Park--two of the most accessible and most visited parks in the Los Angeles area. And two of the reasons that I and every other local triathlete have been able to improve our uphill and downhill running abilities, bike power, as well as sculpt bottoms that art students around the world would love to sketch.

Topanga saw 455,461 visitors in the 06/07 fiscal year, according to the CA Dept. of Parks and Recreation. And if those numbers are only comprised of paying individuals, the park probably actually saw 4x that amount of people, since everyone parks their cars on the street, then walks in for free. Which may be part of the problem here (and I can't say I'm not culpable).

So what can we do to reverse this psychotic, masochistic ruling from the beefcake gouvernator who apparently needs only a Gold's Gym and concrete surroundings to survive?

Visit the California State Parks Foundation to whip off an email to your local state representative. Inundate them with emails. Camp out on Schwarzenegger's lawn. Protest.

Also, check out this rad website: Save Topanga State Park. They've got tons of ideas about how you can take action.

We will not stand for this, Gov. Schwartzenegghead! Get the money you need to fix your freakin' budget from people who drive Hummers!

Peace,

TriDiva

Catalina Island Buffalo Run Hurts Like Hell

But it’s worth it! This past Saturday morning, about 300 athletes rolled out of their beds and moseyed on over to the start of Catalina Island’s 8th Buffalo Run half marathon. With a 9am start time, and every hotel within walking distance of the race start, the Buffalo Run seemed like an athletic vacation. The sun was shining, bringing temperatures into the mid-70s, and making some people mourn their decision to leave their Fuel Belts at home.

Just after the horn sounds, however, it becomes very clear that this is not a vacation. 5 miles straight up paved and dirt roads quickly separate athletes who are there to win from those who just want to finish.

The Buffalo Run course map only highlights the peak elevation within each mile, proving a bit misleading. From the map, it looks as if the first 5 miles are up, then there’s a 1-mile downhill, a 3-mile gradual climb, and a 4-mile plummet back down into Avalon. The truth is the first 5 are up, there is slight relief from about a mile downhill, then treacherous rollers set in, comprising the next 4 miles before a quad-deadening descent brings you in for a quick and painful finish.

This year’s race, according to analysis of several competitors’ Garmins, was about 13.45 miles long, making this year’s times visibly slower than last year’s, when the course was said to be a bit short, coming in at 12.95 miles.

Ben Brown took the men’s race again this year, finishing in 1:24:19, just under 17 minutes before the next competitor crossed the finish line. He’ll be back to defend his American Trail Championship title by competing in the Catalina Marathon on March 15th—he’s been sponsored to run again this year, he said on the podium.

The first female finisher, 36-year old Buffy Jones, finished 9 minutes ahead of the next woman, in 1:48:07.

The race is undeniably beautiful. Views of snow-capped mountains past the layer of filth of Los Angeles were awesome—it was hard not to gawk at the view while running the rollers on top of Catalina’s gorgeous mountains. The course was stocked with Gatorade, water, and pretzels, among other things, with friendly volunteers, and even friendlier competitors who cheered each other on when passing, and on the out-and-back portion of the run. Everyone strikes up conversations at the end with whomever they ran near. I got to speak to the third-place woman, who ran the first 5 miles with me, then kicked my ass.

If you’ve been looking for a trail run, look no further. With a laid-back attitude, a great field of competitors, an unbeatable course, and a sunny day at the beach to look forward to when you finish, there is no reason to go anywhere else. (Not to mention the sense of accomplishment that you get when you finish one of the toughest half marathons around. The pain that lasts for at least 48 hours afterward will remind you of just how awesome you are!)

And no, sadly, no buffalo were reportedly seen on the run. Gonna have to do the marathon and run by the airport for that!

See you out there,

TriDiva

Ode to the Ice Bath

Ran 20 miles

My legs felt like poo

Couldn't move for a while

Didn't know what to do

Should I fill my bathtub with ice?

Would that make me crazy?

It sure wouldn't feel nice

It's easier to be lazy

But no no no! It's something you must do,

Because tomorrow your legs will thank you

And you know how to feel like less of a foo'?

If you make it an ice bath for two.

So fill that tub full of ice H20

And jump on in with a friend

'Cuz you'll be happy to know

An icy-legged friend is a friend 'till the end.

The Long Run and the Garmin

(In this case the Garmin 305)

People prefer to run in all kinds of scenarios. In fact, in a recent Runner's World, you could take a quiz to find out what kind of runner you are based on what motivates you. Are you competitive? Social? A purist? A fitness junkie? A bit of everything?

Well, chances are you're a bit of all four. You like to run alone sometimes to clear your head, and when you're least motivated, nothing helps like having a friend to meet and run with.

And chances are, at least once, you're going to have to do that long run alone. Because nobody wants to get up with you on a Sunday, drive 45 minutes and run 16 miles with 3,000 feet of climbing.

Yes, it is another chance to be with nature and yourself. Hit the trails. Enjoy the scenery. Yadda yadda yadda. But one thing we at TriDiva have found to be extremely helpful for those super long solo journeys is a Garmin. In fact, we're a little obsessed. It gives you the freedom to run alone in contemplative silence. It won't ask you about your Great Aunt Mary or that ticket you got for driving the wrong way on a one way street. But it will gather all sorts of fun information about your run, and beep kindly at you at every interval you set (like every mile), and when you start and stop, so you don't feel so alone.

In fact, having that little guy on your wrist might just make you feel invincible, and give you motivation to make your next split faster than your last. (Or play all sorts of interval games!) And should you stop for directions, your Garmin will chirp happily as it pauses itself, letting your fellow runner/hiker know you are super cool for having such a gadget, and that no, you are not all alone out in the wilderness. You've got GPS. (So what if the OnStar people aren't tracking your every move?)

And when you get home, tons of fun information will be readily at your fingertips! Just plug it into your computer for graphs of your heart rate vs. incline vs. distance. Your fastest split, your biggest climb in a mile.

Then print out your stellar stats and share them with the friend that didn't run with you. Because maybe next week, you'll finally feel like discussing your directionally challenged vehicular boo boo (as you like to call it). And while the Garmin does a lot of cool stuff, it won't tell you that yeah, that street sign was hard to see, and yeah, that cop was unusually cocky and mean that day and yeah, a $432 ticket was totally uncalled for and yeah, you don't have to go out to dinner this week to save some cash for the evil ticket. Human running partners can be nice, too!

Happy long running!