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.