The Joy of Bok Choy

The nice fiance I am ......I have been trying to do most of the grocery shopping, meal planning, and preparation. Tim works more hours than me. I would rather the division of labor be as follows: Me .....unimportant details. Tim.....bread baking and bike maintenance. Due to Tim's residency he is in a hostage situation and is suffering from "Death by Vegetables"

I make vegetables for dinner and then pack the leftovers for lunches. Otherwise known as "overdosing me on vegetables"

I say....."You'll harden up mate"
I cook most of the veggies with a side of chicken or fish for protein. We also eat a lot of cottage cheese and plain yogurt for protein. Concerned though that I didn't have good enough sources of iron I added bok choy. Maybe I went a little overboard trying to get my RDI of Fe (remember science class) from Bok Choy.

Anyway. Friday night I ignored all the rules of race prep. Early dinner. High carb. Low fiber. Easily digestible. Blah, blah, blah. If I managed an Ironman I must have an iron gut. At 8:15 p.m I served up a dinner of beets, bok choy, corn, red peppers, onion, and a little bit of chicken.
At o530 Saturday morning I was a little sorry. Tim had a bit of a green look on his face too as we headed to the TCSD club race. My stomach felt more full then it did last night and I would be racing in an hour. Ugg....Sprinting. Most people like sprints because they are shot. Too me they are more stress full then longer courses as there is no easing into to things. It's full on insanity from start to finish. Sprints usually hurt but today was going to be good. Once in the water my tender tummy was ok. On the bike it was alright....but on the run I think I had the worse side ache ever. Oww Yoww Yoww and this is from a tough tummy girl. I could only think if I feel this way Tim's really hurting. Good thing we aren't married yet.....he might not be as forgiving when his wife sabotages his tummy (and Saturday morning race).

Despite the side ache I actually had a very good race. It reminded me of the side aches I got in grade school on a daily basis. We always ate lunch and then had 30 minutes to run and play. We played a lot of girls vs boys and there was no pacing myself in this arena. Saturday seemed quite the same.

This is my race report for Saturday.

We arrived at Coronado and staked out transition. Tim added air to our tires as I absent mindedly chatted with many of my girlfriend I hadn't seen in a while. There was a bit of a course talk but as usual I paid no attention as I was chatting with the girls. Soon somebody was yelling for everyone to head toward the water and poor Tim wasn't in his wet suit yet. (Probably my fault as he was airing my tires......) I zipped him in and we waded into the water. The gun blew...actually somebody shouted 15 seconds... and Stacy and I began to ask if it was one wave or two. Somebody shouted "Go" and we figured it was one wave as males and females were starting to swim. Guess this means one wave. Hmmm.....maybe somebody should listen at the course talks;) That will never change. I go hard at club races but I'm there to have fun too. Anyway we start to swim and I am happy that despite my belly full of bok choy I feel is a relative term. I do my swim training in the pool so when race day comes and I am suited up in my wetsuit and floated my the salty ocean water....I am a rock star. "Wow"...I think I'm am swimming like a champ. There are people to my right, people to my left and in front of me is Stacy's yellow cap and Blue 70 suit. Yee Haw...I want to stay near Stacy. She is fast and she swims straight as an arrow. I breathe to my right as somebody slides into me from the left. Soon I am on top of somebody with a white swim cap. "Oops" I have swum over top of this person. I swim a bit to get my rhythm back before realizing that I have swum crooked in my 500 meter swim. Stacy's cap is long gone now. Darn.


I run to my bike and head out on the course. The joy of being a slow swimmer is passing lots of people on the bike. The strand is flat and windy. I spin myself up to speed and remind myself I only have 12 miles to do my work (Not 112). I pass some people right off the bat and catch Hank from High Tec. Hank has been riding competitively roadie style forever and I know he is every bit smart as I am aero. I pull ahead. I know he is playing with me a bit. I know this may be stupid of me but it is a sprint and I don't have time to be tactical. Plus, I want to catch Stacy, so we together can stomp boys. Hank and I go back and forth and another man I don't know but am now referring to as Hank's hemorrhoid had attached has attached himself to Hank's wheel. I play legal and he is not 1/2 an inch back little lone two bike lengths. It fatigues me to think of the 30% break he is getting. I grit my teeth and pass them again. I am done with these boys. I see Stacy and pedal towards her. I feel like a fisherman pulling in a fish......I am pulling 5 guys on my back wheel.....Tim's says they were cleaning my air and reducing my drag. I catch Stacy and we ride side by side for a little bit. This is hysterical. I was hoping to do this long enough for the TCSD crew to get a picture. 2 small females, one on a powder blue bike and one on a pink bike, pull a pack of guys in a non draft legal triathlon. Hilarious. They have no shame either. Stacy and I started talking and they were like "if you can talk you can go faster".....I wanted to say if you can draft you can pull but I didn't. I would be too tempted to wheel suck myself. The other funny thing about this ride was the view I got. I was closing in the gap on this man with black and gray shorts.......The thing you've got to remember about being a triathlete is not how you look when you leave your house. It's how you will look wet. Not only could I see the crack in this man's behind. I could see the hair on his butt. Eww. I think it hit 27 mph into a head wind (uphill...with out shoes in the winter) as I passed him. Crack may not kill but it might spin you into the red zone.


Stacy and I started the run together. I have no idea how fast we were going or if I started to fast. I was not asthmatic but I was feeling very short of breath and my gut felt like it was ischemic (if one really knows what ischemia feels like). I am guessing my heart rate was very very high. (Not like 130 on my Ironman run) I am rejecting all external influences right now such as the Garmin for pacing and my heart rate monitor. I really only want to be encouraged by training. I think if I feel good on a run I should enjoy the feeling vs. fretting because I ran 9:00 minute miles and that was all I thought I had....Then the cascade of non productive self absorbed thoughts go on... and on....until nobody wants to read my blog anymore because this is supposed to be about Jenny from the Block dropping Boys. Anyway I'm off track. ....back to the race course. So I am running and I wonder if Gino the PT, who fixed me up is here. I'm hoping he isn't. I don't think I am demonstrating the good running form I showed him at my last visit Thursday. Ohh dear. I think I'm heal striking. My side aches as all get out but my foot. It feels great. My foot is Fabulous. Tim passes Stacy and I and says there are three girls in front of us. Stacy picks it up and tries to track down and 3rd place finish. We get gift certificates for placing in the top three. I want to push Stacy that's what good friends and training partners do. I can't though. I am gassed. I wonder how I will get through IMAZ and I'm not sure. I get to the turn and swoosh.....all the guys I pulled on the bike go cruising passed me. Ok....this is a bit of a pill to swallow. I know I am all the better served for not hanging on somebody's wheel. I don't race in draft legal tri's and I need to do my own work at threshold. Swoosh again .....skinny JT passed me. Now I have no idea how this happens but always....always JT ,who swam in college, owns a bike shop, and has skinny runners legs, is always passing me near the end. He should never pass me. He should always be way ahead of me. There is always it seems he forgot his bike shoes and just did the run pacing his girlfriend Lynn. As they pass me, JT mutters through his pencil thin mustache, that I am sandbagging and can go faster. I am going as fast as I can. I work my way into the finish and see Tim. All I can think of is how bad his side must be aching. Tim has a sensitive side. Ask Cindy for her imitation of Tim running at CDA.

The after math:

The TCSD breakfast is in full swing. Everybody is celebrating. Tim and I are a little subdue as we are in vegetable distress. I am actually quiet. (Can you believe it?) I'm a little down because I am sure with all those people passing me on the run I have ran a really slow run. I feel like the kid that didn't study for a test properly and then wonders why he doesn't get an A. I tell myself to be real. I am thankful to be running again and this is a good speed workout. Things will come around and I have had more success then I ever could have expected for one season. I don't know if I thought I was Wonder Women or Super Women when I thought doing two full Ironman's in one season was a good idea. I take a step back and think about the big picture of things and yes I am going to do IMAZ. Even though I might not be as fast as CDA .....that alone is not a good enough reason to quit. In fact it's a really, really poor one.

Tim and I don't stay long at the club race. We head home to clean our gear. Then we head up to Carlsbad via our bikes to see Tim's mom and grandmother. Tim's grandmother is in a care facility. Even though I work with the sickest of the sick I am always struck with the same thought. It's hard getting old. I think tight calves are a serious problem .....try contractures in your extremities, not being able to swallow, wounds that won't heal...just from lying in bed. To think I blog about my blisters (and I still have readers).

I ride my road bike to Carlsbad. Tim recently adjusted the seat position as it felt long for me. This is the first I have ridden it since the change. I descend Via Capri as fast as Tim (well there was a car going slow in front of him but still) I like this bike. It's like a good old dog. It doesn't care how fast I go or expect me to get in aero and hammer. It feels good not to ride in aero for a change. I guess I forgot that maybe the muscles used to ride in aero just might have become tired over several thousand miles. The more we ride the peppier I get. No slugging along. We get to Carlsbad and meet Cindy for lunch. A man starts commenting on my bike. Asking me about the where I got the various accessories. The pink tape from Tim. The blue striped tires a Christmas present from Cindy. The pink and blue seat a Christmas gift from Tim. I sum it up by saying there is a lot of love in this bike. Tim tells me there is one thing wrong with my bike. It says my name on the side and that will soon change. I really enjoy riding with Tim today. We used to ride all the time .....when he was on research. Despite mourning the loss of my daily riding partner, I am proud of Tim. Although the transition into this year was rough. He really has done a good job getting behind his choice and putting his best foot forward in his residency.

So.....when I got my test back in class on Monday. I was pleasantly surprised. Although the only split that registered for me was the run....the time was 22:42 (and believe me I didn't take the most direct route). This may not impress most people but I was mentally prepared to see 27-28 minutes so this was exciting.

1 comment:

tim said...

Nice work. I'm surprised all those guys hung behind you for so long, especially after all the vegetables you ate... That's how I keep people from drafting me...