Hyper-competitiveness in sports

It is supposed to be fun. You pay your 40 bucks to join. You get a team jersey, team spirit. It's just a game. 

Volleyball. Softball. Flag football. These are the adult sportsball leagues. I love sportsball - playing, not just watching. But there is this phenomena that occurs in some adult leagues that puts a bruise on an otherwise healthy system. It is this intense drive that some adults have that makes them get angry, abusive, and just downright nasty to the other team and their own teammates.

I get it. You played in high school. Or maybe you didn't and you're trying to recapture your lost youth. You gotta get that trophy...even though there aren't trophies and the only people that know you win are your teammates and the other teams in that league. But sports are serious business.

No, really. I love playing sports and I want to win. I play with a serious demeanor and I play like I'm going to be buying my teammates drinks afterward. In high school, I made not one, but two teenage girls cry because they were cheating at golf and they were disqualified because I ratted them out. 

But one thing I don't do is be a poor sport. The other is cheat. I'm honest to a fault if, for instance, I touch a ball before it goes out of bounds and I do not razz my teammates OR the other team.

Recently, I joined a volleyball team. I didn't want to play volleyball. I wanted to play softball. Softball is intense in short bursts then there is a lot of standing or sitting around. It's fun and people usually don't get hurt; in fact they make the rules such that you get penalized for doing dangerous things like running through a basemen. Sadly, there no one contacted me as a free agent for that sport. But I digress. 

The volleyball team has a few players that were on the ringer game I played for softball. I could tell then these people were competitive. Scratch that, hyper-competitive. 

The kind of competitive that ends in a teammate refusing to play because another teammate yelled at him after he made an error. And our team hadn't even made that many errors that night so it was bound to happen statistically. Fast forward to volleyball. I sat out the first part of the game. The ball whizzed back and forth and just watching was somewhat overwhelming. As our team flailed significantly to score, the intensity of the angst among the hyper-competitive rose sharply.

And then I got put in.

My first time on front row and the dude next to me about runs into me trying to hit even though it was clearly in my position and not to mention stupid gender rules require a girl to hit it after a guy. A guy had just hit it. We played poorly, but more so we played way more aggressive to our own teammates than we need to be. People kept saying "pay attention" if I didn't immediately rotate. I'm sorry, do I look like I want to be yelled at by another adult? To answer in case it is obtuse: no, I do not. 

Afterwards we were standing around and discussing practices. He reminded everyone that we never had had a full practice as a team.What the hell, pardon my french? This is an adult league that plays once a week for twenty minutes at best. I have a life outside of volleyball and a training schedule (yes I have a personal trainer) I don't really want to practice and take up another evening with this anxiety and getting yelled at for making mistakes.

On a personal note: the white women on my team are a bunch of clique-y biatches. I single out them being white because they remind me of stereotypical sorority girls. The other ladies are awesome. They are friendly and not ridiculously competitive. This chick, who I feel is making up for her misgivings by being a complete wanker to people, afterwards kept mentioning she smelled a smell (what's that smell? It smells gross.) and walking away from me and glancing at me while she was saying it. Actually, it was someone who brought BBQ chicken into the bleachers by the court and it smelled like vinegar. I know I smell, but that, my dear, was not me. So *raspberry sound* jog on, as Ed says in Shaun of the Dead.

I likely will not choose to play with these team again unless I cannot find anyone else. Playing is better than not and I can make the best of jackasses by just not caring what they think. I just hope next practice (uggggg) is better than our game.

Yet another interest: indoor rock climbing

If you haven't figured this out yet from reading my blog, I'll let you in on the "secret": I am a jock. I love playing lots of different sports. I love competition and being physical. I play and watch a multitude of sports because it is fun. My friends often joke about sportsball and I'm definitely a sportsballer.

Most difficult climb I've done.

Recently, I've been turned on to indoor rock climbing. Indoor climbing - if you have never been - is essentially a wall with crags, cliffs, juts, etc. that a person uses hand and footholds to climb up. With top rope climbing, you are harnessed into a climbing belt and someone else anchors you and keeps you from falling (known as a belayer). This is the type I have been doing because lead climbing requires more skill and strength and it is a little more dangerous since you can get twisted into the rope if you fall or even hit the ground if you aren't high enough or belayer is not skilled. You typically have to take a special test at the local climbing gym to be allowed to lead climb and lead belay.

Climbs are scaled with a numbering system that rates how difficult the climb is. So a 5 intro is an easy climb for a beginner while a 5.12d is a very difficult climb with lots of technical aspects. For triathletes to get a frame of reference this is similar to the difference between a beginner sprint triathlon and a 140.6 race.

For the casual/amateur athlete, rock climbing is not only challenging, but rewarding. Picking a goal and trying to accomplish it gives you a boost just like finishing a difficult race. When I climb, I try to start out with a warm-up, which right now this is around a 5.6/5.7. Then I choose a harder climb for a challenge. Sometimes I make it. Sometimes I don't, but either way I feel accomplished after.

Navigating a climb.

Almost there. Customary to touch the pulley to finish.

I like rock climbing as a cross-training tool as well since it uses balance, leg strength, and coordination. These are all useful for the swimming and cycling portions of the triathlons. I recommend it for those times that you just get bored with indoor workouts or weightlifting! Just be careful because twisted ankles are a possibility if you climb, especially if you boulder.

Race Write-Up: Ragnar Relay Florida Keys

“It was the best of times, it was the worst of times.” - Dickens

That essentially sums up the Ragnar Relay Florida Keys. I am going to change my race write-up style on this one. I usually discuss preparation, during the race, after the race, and give my thoughts. This race was just pure insanity.

Our team van

Of the three Ragnar Relays I have completed, this one has the easiest course, at least by what most runners judge as easy. Completely flat. Pretty easy to navigate. Gorgeous scenery during most of it. So why did I have a disastrous, epic failure?

Well, one aspect is this: I do not like straight courses. If I can see more than a quarter mile in front of me, I panic. I end up repeating over and over in my head how far I can see, how much distance that might be, and when I will be able to get a walk break. It cripples my mental strategies and I rarely train for this (something I realize I am going to need to do if I want to continue racing).

Finishing up my first leg (around 6 miles).

Another aspect: virtually no wind on any of my legs and blistering, brutal heat for nearly 80% of the race (by my very serious calculations :-}). Everyone on the team seemed unprepared for the weather.

My final grievance comes in the form of the race coordination for my legs. A one mile to go sign is usually a curse for me…except at Ragnar. It is a godsend. I do not wear a GPS for a reason at big races like this and the mile to go sign is my only sure way to realize how far I have gone and how to pace myself in preparation for my next leg in addition to finishing that leg appropriately. My first leg: no mile to go sign. I had already had to walk a little and I was getting frustrated so I saw a large yellow building where people seemed to disappear ahead and I figured it was a turn off. I made a mental note to walk when I got to it and low and behold it was the race finish.

But it was not actually the leg finish. Oh no, it was not. I ran in with volunteers telling me to run into the giant Miami-Homestead Speedway in front of me. Mental stability over. Without expanding too much, this just killed my spirit and I ended up doing almost a mile more than was originally listed as the leg length.

My second leg started off gloriously. I ran four miles without walking despite my headlamp being overly stretched out and hitting my glasses for the first two miles. But that’s where the fun ended. Another race coordination foul up and my mile to go sign was at a mile and a half. I had picked up pace to make up for some brief walking I did around 5 or 6 miles which proved to be disastrous. Never trust a race sign is the takeaway from that.

Second leg trying to get my hat.

Near the finish line. I. am. whooped.

My final leg was just abysmal. I was waiting the entire leg for van support. I desperately needed cold water and a towel to wipe off my sweat. Tens of onlookers, many of whom thought they were being helpful by talking to me, affected my mental state so much that at one point I almost broke down. I was also pretty furious at my husband for not bringing me a shirt after the race (I spent most of the race in just a sports bra and shorty UnderArmours) and not make the van at least stop somewhere along the course where vans were allowed to stop. I really and for once in my life needed the mental support of my team. However, I want to thank my team for being one of the most supportive teams of Ragnar. Even though all my teams have been supportive, it has been in much better conditions and the Florida team proved to be wonderful (I love you guys!).

Me and the hubster. Both swollen and tired. That is love, dear readers.

Having said all of that, and despite the fact we finished more than 6 hours after we planned to not leaving any time to enjoy Key West, I would do another Ragnar. I probably will not do another race in Florida, but the Ragnar experience for better or worse is one to behold and treasure, and I will keep doing those as long as finances and the ability to find a team are aligned.

Hence it was the best of times and the worst of times simultaneously.

Photo bomb!!!

RAWWWWRRRR!!!!

Race Write-up: The Army 10-Miler

I completed this race in October and am just now writing about it. Life happens, but I want to let everyone know about the milestone I passed in this race: I ran about 9.25 miles without walking. Well, I like to qualify that by saying I did have one shoe coming untied incident and one attempt to walk, but I got about two or three steps into walking and realized that if I continued, I wouldn’t be able to finish the race running.

Finisher medal (yay!).

But first things first.

Race Preparation

I did some decent training for this. I loosely followed an adapted half marathon training schedule, but ultimately was only able to get up to around 5 miles for my longest training run. I was definitely worried that this would not be adequate training though I felt confident I would finish the race.

It did, however, force me to adjust how I would plan to run the race. Typically, my goal is to finish a race without walking. This may seem like a silly goal for most athletes, but as a weak runner - and clearly far better swimmer, hyuk hyuk – finishing a race or a longer distance without walking is a huge accomplishment. This time I felt I needed to adjust that goal and plan out walk breaks. I made a mental challenge to make it to 5 miles, the longest I had gone prior to this race, without walking.

The race also posed the unique challenge of not being allowed to carry a cell phone (which we found out when we got there that this was not the case) and that we would need to metro in without having access to our car both before and directly after the race. For someone with asthma, this means I need to make sure I wear pants with pockets that I can put my inhaler into. And getting separated from my husband in the sea of over 30,000 runners was a major concern. So I also planned to stick with him and we would both adjust pace as necessary.

One note about this race related to preparation: I hate pre-race day packet picket. Most of these large races have it and I know it makes things run smoother, but frankly, it is frustrating to have to go into DC the day before. For those unfamiliar with DC, parking is a nightmare and trying to park where and when you know a lot of other people will be parking is a giant, magnificent, horrible nightmare. It just reinforces my despise of big races.

At the Race
Talk about a boatload of people. Getting into the race was terrible. Since it starts near the Pentagon, everyone had to go through a security checkpoint with our hands raised. It was uncomfortably cramped and the line moved very, very slowly. And I almost did not bother waiting in the porta-potty line because it was so long and I was worried I would miss my wave start. Fortunately, I did not, but that added stress was unnecessary before a race. More porta-johns for that many people makes sense.

The start of the race was rather hilarious. Less than a mile into it, there were sweatshirts thrown everywhere from people peeling off all their cold-weather clothes (a spectacle that I wish did not happen due to littering and clean-up concerns). Around the same point both my husband and my shoes came untied so we have to quickly move to the right through a sea of people to re-tie. But our pace quickly recovers.

Unfortunately, much of the race was pretty typical and not memorable, but after the five mile point, where I originally had planned to walk, I got a second wind and decided to keep going.

Ok, I’ll try to make it to six.

Six miles came, but my husband got a crippling side stitch and needed to walk. I asked if we could separate because I was having a great race and he agreed.

Ok, body, just make it to 8 miles and you can walk. At 8 miles, I was feeling fatigued. My legs were sore and I was coming up on a long stretch that took runners onto I-395 for a portion. Running on a shut down highway is pretty badass, but it also was the first part of the race that I really could see far ahead of me. I could see the Pentagon, the race finish.  And I could also see that it was still a ways off. I got the urge to walk so I took a few steps without running. Instantly I felt my legs tighten up and my first thought was “If I walk now, I won’t be able to run again so I better just keep running.”

My race results.

I tried to focus on things other than the pain and soon I was passing the mile to go mark. You’ve come this far, don’t stop now. I was determined to finish this race without walking. But shortly, I felt a pain in my side, likely psychosomatic rather than pure muscle fatigue. The pain worsened with each bounce of my foot on the pavement. I had to stop. I forced myself to walk. It felt like it took about 10 minutes to walk 100 yards, but the side stitch evaporated and I started running again.

Half mile.

Quarter mile.

Like most grueling races, I finished by closing my eyes and opening them for the last 50 feet or so. I kept my pace.

Finish line.

After the Race

I was not allowed to wait for my husband at the finish line. I had to keep walking. About a quarter mile more of walking to get to the medal pick-up where I thought we could reconnect. It was difficult to find him, which would have been made easier had we selected a meet-up spot prior to the race, but I feel the difficulty was exacerbated by their insistence we leave the race finish area even though we were not blocking anyone by waiting on the sidelines near the fence. And the fact that we were not allowed to carry cell phones. How silly!

The kicker in this race was their poor advertising of shuttles and the lack of awareness that it was nearly a mile hike back to the metro around the pentagon. We were both nauseated the entire walk back and regretted not braving the long lines for a banana.

I have no race pictures because of their stupid no camera policy. I was also unwilling to pay usurer fees for official pictures.

Though I will say this race was one of the best races I have finished from a person goal standpoint. All the downsides mean I will likely not do it again (plus I need to really start planning races in other states before re-running ones) but I highly recommend this race to others as an alternative to skipping right to the half marathon.

My Next First

For 2013, I had minimal goals as a triathlete. I wanted to get back out on the bike after the abysmal showing in October 2012 at the REV3 Half-Full race, which I did at the Goochland Sprint Triathlon. I really needed to get my confidence back before attempting my ultimate goal of finishing a half distance triathlon. Part of preparing properly for that goal is to also complete a long distance running race such as a half marathon or marathon. I believe I am ready for a half-marathon, but when I found out about the Army 10-miler, I could not pass up the chance to do that instead of a half. Ten miles will be my longest distance running race thus far.

But how does a swimmer pretending to be a triathlete train for a distance running race? Where do I get my training programs?

The answer may shock you and decrease my street cred as a triathlon blogger: the internet! I typed in "half marathon training" in Google browser and clicked the first link that popped up. This is exactly what I did to find out how to train for my first triathlon!

Much more of this to come!

In my opinion training for races, especially running races, does not have to be overly complicated. You get out there do some short runs, long runs, some recovery workouts plus a little cross-training if you like and that is about it. Hal Higdon's Half Marathon Training Guide at intermediate level is a pretty reasonable training program that fits my style. It is already very similar to how I like to train, though I only have about 9 weeks until my race instead of the prescribed 12 weeks. I highly recommend at least 3 or 4 months for training for endurance races unless your "status quo" distance is the distance of the race (e.g. I can do a sprint triathlon with just upkeep training - I will not win any races doing that, but I'll be able to complete it).

My goal for this race is under a 12-minute pace for 10 miles even if I have to walk a little. I think this training program with modifications will work for me. Because of the reduced amount of time to train, I am going to end at week 8 and replace week 9 with the cool down/taper week 12 workouts. I do not have any planned races on the weekends as seems to be suggested, however, I can do a mock race if I want. Also due to other obligations every other Sunday will be a bike ride unless the weather is too poor for it so I will have to modify my Sunday runs sometimes.

Regardless, the take away form this is to choose something that works for you and modify it to your needs.I am glad to be back on a regimented training schedule and I hope my blog will be a tool to keep me motivated and on track with my workouts.

Race Review: Goochland Sprint Triathlon 2013

Kick it up a notch!

Another race review! These are my favorite blog posts to write because, frankly, that’s why I started the blog: to talk about my races! The race I completed on August 10 was the Goochland Sprint Triathlon hosted by the Goochland YMCA. It was my first triathlon since the one I did not finish. It was also my first sprint distance race.

Race Preparation

I did not train too well for this race, mainly because the distance was such that I was comfortable doing very little training.  The other reason was that I wanted a dramatically less stressful experience than the last race I completed. In fact, I did not do any swim training – 300 yards is less than my typical swim warm-up for a workout – and only got one group cycling workout in preparation for the race. But I felt this was sufficient for a 12.5 mile ride. The 5k run I was not worried about because I knew I could walk if I got tired. However, my goal for the race, in addition to just finishing, was to jog the entire 5k. I do not recommend this for most new triathletes doing their first sprint distance so if you want any tips on race preparation, please ask in the comments section!

Before the race!

Race Day (Pre-Race)

The race was two hours away from where I live had a 6:45am start time. Naturally, my husband and I waited until the last minute to get a hotel that we could stay at so we did not have to get up at 3 in the morning. Goochland is in the middle of nowhere so the nearest hotel was still 20 minutes away near Richmond. (Note: I highly recommend spending the night at races that are 2 hours or more away. You will likely be well rested the next day and gives you a place to shower/rest after the rest). The downside is that I did not plan very well for food in the morning as I usually do steel-cut oatmeal before a race. Staying at a hotel, I did not have access to a kitchen. I figured we would just pick up a bagel or banana at a gas station right before the race.

Wrong!

We passed the last open gas station near our hotel that we did not stop at. We assumed there would be one closer to the race.

Wrong again!

Remember Goochland being in the middle of nowhere? The gas stations were closed at 5:30 in the morning. Not off to a good start. Fortunately, the race provided some race gels – for the record, Apple Cinnamon is quite possibly the worst flavor ever – and I had purchased a Gatorade and water the night before, which is my typical race hydration.

Rare capture of me during the swim leg.

To add insult to injury, the staff working the registration desk was not very friendly. Then I realized while putting my number stickers on my bike that I forgot my bike pack and my bike water bottle. You should ALWAYS bring a bike pack with two spare bicycle inner tubes and a canister of CO­­­₂ in case you get a flat. I shrugged my shoulders and hoped for the best. It was all I could do.

The Race

With all the problems I was having, one would think this would be one of my worst race experiences, second only to the one I did not finish. But this was actually one of the most well designed races I have raced:

1.  The swim was based on your seed time! Because it was a pool race instead of a mass start they let you give your race pace 300 yard time. I passed one person and was only passed once myself. Whew! So much better than getting kicked in the ribs when I swim over someone I cannot see.
2. The “rolling hills” on the course were in fact not hills, but slow inclines. I definitely struggled on these inclines, but the majority of the course I spent rolling down the slow declines. The only downside was I could not switch to my higher gear (large cog) because I had to be on my second to lowest gear on the inclines. So some of the downhill portions I either pedaled furiously with no extra boost in speed or just coasted.
3. A two-loop course allowed me to plan my energy usage better.
4. The run was challenging with two steep hills, but fun. Also a two-loop course so the same benefit as the bike course. My only complaint was running in the grassy portions. A recipe for twisted ankles.

   

   Hold the seat while running making transitions easier.   

5. Two water stops on the course, though the placement could have been better.
6. Volunteers and onlookers were EXTREMELY friendly and supportive. One of them at the water stop heard me breathing heavily (one of the two steep hills was right before the water stop) and asked if I was ok, which was unexpected, but appreciated.
7. Other racers were amazingly supportive and cheered on their fellow racers. Most of those who passed me on the cycling leg called out “passing left” and quite a few sad “good job, racer” or “keep it up”. There was a small boy, probably 10 or 11, racing who was inspiring. I kept thinking how good this boy would be when he grows up!
8. Lots of new people BUT unlike the Nation’s Triathlon, which is over-booked in my opinion, it was not ridiculously crowded – therefore dangerous – and the newbies were not ridiculously underprepared for the bike portion. Only a young boy who clearly had not been taught the rules passed me on the right.
9. We got race medals! As sweat dripped down my face (oh did I mention I forgot my hat too!) crossing the finish line, a volunteer slipped a finisher medal around my neck. Totally unexpected and totally awesome.
10. Post-race food included fruit, pancakes, and bacon. I did not partake of the bacon or pancakes, but I thought that was a nice touch for a small race.

For anyone who wants a light challenge, completely safe and simple swim course, and positive race experience, I highly recommend the Goochland Sprint Triathlon.

Finishing the race. Look at those gams!

Race Results

The officialrace results were posted later in the evening the day of the race. I did not stay long enough, but they were also printed and posted after the race as well.

Swim Time – 5:26

T1 – 2:20

Bike Time – 52:14  

T2 – 1:43

Run Time – 37:04

Overall – 1:38.46

Developing and Overcoming a Cycling Phobia

Yesterday was my first day back on my road bike for an outdoor ride in almost a year. You might be wondering what kind of triathlete has not been training outdoors on their bike in that time. Well this triathlete recently dealt with a bout of cycling phobia. It all started last October when I received a DNF – that’s Did Not Finish - at the REV3 Half Full Triathlon. I had signed up for the Olympic distance race, which featured an unusual 30 mile bike course rather than the typical 24.8 miles. 

The race was very late season, which usually signifies difficulty, but I assumed I would be ready. The course boasted several hills; again I assumed I would be prepared. The weather was quite nasty from the start with rain beginning before the first wave. I joked with one of the other competitors that I would not need to worry about getting cold because I had enough “padding” (aka fat) to protect me. This turned out to be a very coincidental comment as you will read further down.

The swim was typical and actually fairly easy even though I had to wear my very snug wetsuit (I had gained weight since the last time I wore it at the Boilerman Triathlon in Indiana). But the problems started as soon as I reached the swim finish. While taking my wetsuit off, I left my goggles in my hand and they got stuck keeping me locked in my wetsuit. Then I had to run up a steep hill to the transition area where I promptly took off my timing chip to finish taking my wetsuit off.  I never put it back on!

The forgotten timing chip was the least of my problems as the rain continued and my once dry clothes/arm warmers were soaked. I did not think there was an issue as I was focusing on my goal of getting my bike out on the road.

Soon after the ride began, I realized I was not prepared for the cycling portion. After the first few large hills – large compared to what I was used to in the Midwest – my legs were burning and I was shaking from the cold. I nearly lost all my strength when I realized it had only been 5 miles. By mile 10, I was already exhausted. I started walking my bike up the really steep hills, but the downhill was even worse. As the cold whipped past me, I felt pain in all my exposed portions. My legs started wobbling and I could barely stay on my bike. I thought just keeping going. If I could just make it to the run, then I could walk the entire 6.2 miles and I could finish.

Lance Armstrong happened to be doing the race too, only he did the half-distance (modified to 70 miles because the swim portions were the same distance). I tried to ignore the hoopla and controversy around this and focus on my race. It did not help when I was passed at one point by him followed by a motorcade. Lots of spectators cheering him on, which made each mile more difficult for some reason. I felt so self-conscious that I was walking up hills and even more self-conscious of my ridiculously slow pace when I passed again by Lance at mile 21 or 22 (oh and my GPS died about half-way through the race so I only knew where I was because of the mile marker signs).

Eventually, I got so drained that upon reaching a hill at around mile 25 (noting that had this been at traditional race, I would have been done with the cycling portion by this point or at least close to it) I got off my bike turned to the two volunteers and exclaimed “I need help!” They thought I was hurt, but the only part of me injured was my pride.

I promptly began bawling. I had never not finished a race.

Back at the camp, they would not let me in the medical tent, but I was mostly delirious from what could only have been mild hypothermia. I left my bike and was wandering trying to find the heating bus. My husband had gone back to the car to get something, thinking I would be another hour or two to finish. Fortunately, a friendly volunteer led me to the bus, where I could barely walk with my cycling shoes still on. Seeing everyone with their finisher medals and shirts made me keep bawling. I was so embarrassed having not finished, “wussing out” without even being physically hurt. I went home feeling depressed and exhausted.

Me looking nervous before the practice ride.

It was the end of the season so I had an excuse not to get on my bike. But as spring approached, I found myself making excuses for not riding. “Well, I want to focus on running races this year. Why ride when I can use my indoor trainer that I got for Christmas?” And so on. Of course, none of this was true. I was simply afraid to get on my bike. I had no reason to be afraid, but I felt great anxiety at the thought of getting out there in front of people on a trail.

This is one of the reasons I started this blog. I wanted to get back to triathlons and get back to my athletic/competitive roots. It forced me to sign up for a triathlon which meant I would have to get back on my bike. Even though I waited until two weeks before my first triathlon since the DNF, I am happy that I finally overcame my fear.

It was definitely scary so much so that I panicked on the first sharp turn onto the path, feeling like I was going to fall over. I almost went off the path into the mud. But once I was out riding, I felt more and more comfortable. Even though it was slow, even though I did not have to ride up any crazy steep hills, I got back on my bike and did a group ride. I may not have the best time at my triathlon, but it is the first step to being a triathlete again. Or at least pretending to be one!