This past week, I've had a number of first-time experiences:
1) First nephew: I was in Gainesville earlier this week for the birth of Lauren's, my big sister, and Clay's first child (also the first grandchild on both sides). Beckett is absolutely beautiful and, like his auntie, has big hands and feet. With tall parents, however, he will probably grow into his paws better than I did!
2) First trip to Chicago: I went to Chicago for the first time for the Chicago Triathlon last weekend and was impressed by how clean, modern and vibrant of a city it is. With great shopping, dining and cultural offerings, as well as really nice people, I look forward to going back. I also owe my dad a Cubs game! While I was a bit skeptical of the city's bid for the 2016 Olympic Games, I now can envision a Chicago Games and would certainly be keen to represent the US there.
3) First race of 8,700 people: I've never been to a race as large as the Chicago triathlon. I can't even imagine the amount of organization required in order to hold a race of that size. As a competitor, there is such an incredible energy to participating with thousands of other athletes. Having to run around the age group competitors was an unexpected challenge, however. What a difference with closed-course World Cups with no more than 80 women on the course at any given time!
4) First race on a TT bike: Until a few weeks ago, I'd never used a Time Trial frame. Blue gave me a fantastic frame that I built up with borrowed parts and rode this past weekend in Chicago. While I lost quite a bit of time on the second lap of the bike to Becky Lavelle, the winner of the race(non-drafting racing requires so much focus- more than I'm used to!), I had a strong bike leg and a solid swim and bike. When I crossed the line in second place, I was overjoyed and definitely look forward to improving as a non-drafting athlete!
Thanks for reminders from my readers to update my blog!
Sorry for the delay :-)
All the best,
Sarah
Sunday, August 31, 2008
Monday, August 11, 2008
The Olympics
A few days ago (on the 8th of August to be exact), I was extremely cranky. The Opening Ceremonies for the Beijing Olympics were here and I was in Colorado Springs and not in Beijing. Luckily for the people around me, I've gotten over the initial bitterness/ sadness and have instead embraced the Games wholeheartedly.
Living at the Olympic Training Center, it is impossible to avoid the Olypics, as you are constantly bombarded by images of the Games. From the Olympic rings on most of the doors to the tvs endlessly showing NBC to the photos of past Olympians in the hallways, you are ceaselessly reminded of the importance of the Games. If I were still in Boulder sans television and Olympic propaganda, it would be easy to avoid such reminders and to continue along my happy way. By being faced with my disappointment so directly, however, I've been forced to examine how I feel about not making the team.
The more that I watch the Olympics, the more I am aware of the fact that I simply wasn't ready to make the team. While I may have been physically capable of making the team, there was a certain motivational element missing from the process. Olympians make it a dream to represent the US, using their desire to fuel them for years leading up to the Games. A year ago, I simply wanted to make Olympic Trials. A few months ago, I found myself in the position of being on the cusp of making the team. At that point, however, it was too late for me to gain the experience and confidence necessary to become an Olympian. Now that I watch the Games take place, however, I realize that I have four years to both earn a spot on the team and to develop myself into a medal contender.
While I admit that I will watch the triathlon event with a bit of a heavy heart, I am convinced that we have the best team possible representing the US in Beijing (that's not to say that I wouldn't have loved to go!) and look forward to watching our athletes race. Laura Bennett, Sarah Haskins and Julie Ertel are highly accomplished women who will certainly do our country proud. I am also really excited to watch the men (Matt Reed, Hunter Kemper and Jarrod Shoemaker) mix things up. All of these athletes are people I admire as both athletes and people and I count them among my friends. To see them succeed at the Olympics would be almost as good as being there myself! In the meantime, back to training hard and looking forward to 2012!
Living at the Olympic Training Center, it is impossible to avoid the Olypics, as you are constantly bombarded by images of the Games. From the Olympic rings on most of the doors to the tvs endlessly showing NBC to the photos of past Olympians in the hallways, you are ceaselessly reminded of the importance of the Games. If I were still in Boulder sans television and Olympic propaganda, it would be easy to avoid such reminders and to continue along my happy way. By being faced with my disappointment so directly, however, I've been forced to examine how I feel about not making the team.
The more that I watch the Olympics, the more I am aware of the fact that I simply wasn't ready to make the team. While I may have been physically capable of making the team, there was a certain motivational element missing from the process. Olympians make it a dream to represent the US, using their desire to fuel them for years leading up to the Games. A year ago, I simply wanted to make Olympic Trials. A few months ago, I found myself in the position of being on the cusp of making the team. At that point, however, it was too late for me to gain the experience and confidence necessary to become an Olympian. Now that I watch the Games take place, however, I realize that I have four years to both earn a spot on the team and to develop myself into a medal contender.
While I admit that I will watch the triathlon event with a bit of a heavy heart, I am convinced that we have the best team possible representing the US in Beijing (that's not to say that I wouldn't have loved to go!) and look forward to watching our athletes race. Laura Bennett, Sarah Haskins and Julie Ertel are highly accomplished women who will certainly do our country proud. I am also really excited to watch the men (Matt Reed, Hunter Kemper and Jarrod Shoemaker) mix things up. All of these athletes are people I admire as both athletes and people and I count them among my friends. To see them succeed at the Olympics would be almost as good as being there myself! In the meantime, back to training hard and looking forward to 2012!
Wednesday, July 23, 2008
Kitzbuhel: Wafers, slugs and expectations
After my race (and subsequent visit to the med tent) in Tizsaujvaros, I was faced with two options: change my ticket to go home early and scrap the World Cup in Austria or stick with my plan and race. Once I found out that it would be vastly more expensive to go home than to spend a week in Kitzbuhel, Austria, I decided to stay and hope that I would feel dramatically better in a week’s time. Even if I had to pull out mid-race, I would be able to spend a week in a beautiful village in the Alps and gain some more World Cup experience. After surprising myself and finishing 11th in the race, I’m pretty happy that I stuck with the plan.
About an hour’s drive from Salzburg, Kitzbuhel is a scenic village of 8,000 residents nestled in the Tyrolean Alps. I was able to do a bit of sight-seeing in the lead-up to the race, taking a tram to the top of the Horn with Brian and Jun, the US coaches for the race. The view was incredible; a 360 degree view of 3000 meter peaks and green pastures complete with bell-wearing cows and wildflowers. Snipppets of songs from “The Sound of Music” had the annoying tendency to pop up spontaneously in my mind. The town of Kitzbuhel, with cobblestoned streets and well-tended, brightly colored buildings, was equally beautiful. Well-heeled tourists from Russia and Western Europe visit the town year-round, skiing, hiking and shopping. For athletes from countries with weak currency (oh, the poor dollar…), this made eating out difficult. Luckily housing was affordable, as the tremendous race organizers sent me to the Pension Erlenhaub, where the sweet proprietor took care of me. Unfortunately, her collection of taxidermied animals was not as charming, baring their teeth at me as I climbed the stairs.
Leading up the race, I was nervous about my ability to race well, as I felt exhausted and sluggish in training. The last time that I had raced soon after heat stroke, I had a terrible race, managing little more than a jog on the run portion of the race. With a start list packed with athletes using the race as a last tune-up before Beijing and taking into account how I was feeling, I took a more conservative approach to the race. Knowing that the field would most likely come into T2 together, my race strategy was simple: sit in on the swim and bike and use whatever I had on the bike.
For the race, the swim took place in the Schwartzsee (Black Lake), one of the most scenic venues that I’ve ever seen for a race. I tucked behind the Swiss Magali Di Marco Messmer and let her do the work of leading the swim (much to her dismay, as she told me after, as she counted on doing the same to me!). On the bike, it was cold and rainy (a far cry from the previous week’s race) and the front pack of 19 negotiated the course conservatively. Luckily, we entered the with a 2:30 advantage over the chase group, letting me feel a bit more comfortable about my ability to finish in the top-20. I started off strong, moving my way through the pack up after a poor transition, and held a comfortable pace. About halfway through the run, Andrea Whitcomb and Debbie Tanner passed me and I sat on their shoulders for the next 4+k. While they outran me in the end, I finished 11th, exceeding my low expectations going into the race. Throughout the run, I kept on waiting to feel bad and was surprised to find that I managed to pull off a good sub-36 minute 10k and feel comfortable doing so. It always feels good to exceed one’s expectations.
After too much bread and chocolate wafers and too little training recently, I am very excited to resume training. As my next race is in September, I should be able to get in a great block of training. The last big block that I had was in April, so I’m definitely keen to put my head down and train. I’ll keep you posted!
Unrelated tidbit: The slugs are massive is Austria, as thick as a big man’s thumb and as long as his thumb. Like slugs here, they also eat their own dead. Gross.
About an hour’s drive from Salzburg, Kitzbuhel is a scenic village of 8,000 residents nestled in the Tyrolean Alps. I was able to do a bit of sight-seeing in the lead-up to the race, taking a tram to the top of the Horn with Brian and Jun, the US coaches for the race. The view was incredible; a 360 degree view of 3000 meter peaks and green pastures complete with bell-wearing cows and wildflowers. Snipppets of songs from “The Sound of Music” had the annoying tendency to pop up spontaneously in my mind. The town of Kitzbuhel, with cobblestoned streets and well-tended, brightly colored buildings, was equally beautiful. Well-heeled tourists from Russia and Western Europe visit the town year-round, skiing, hiking and shopping. For athletes from countries with weak currency (oh, the poor dollar…), this made eating out difficult. Luckily housing was affordable, as the tremendous race organizers sent me to the Pension Erlenhaub, where the sweet proprietor took care of me. Unfortunately, her collection of taxidermied animals was not as charming, baring their teeth at me as I climbed the stairs.
Leading up the race, I was nervous about my ability to race well, as I felt exhausted and sluggish in training. The last time that I had raced soon after heat stroke, I had a terrible race, managing little more than a jog on the run portion of the race. With a start list packed with athletes using the race as a last tune-up before Beijing and taking into account how I was feeling, I took a more conservative approach to the race. Knowing that the field would most likely come into T2 together, my race strategy was simple: sit in on the swim and bike and use whatever I had on the bike.
For the race, the swim took place in the Schwartzsee (Black Lake), one of the most scenic venues that I’ve ever seen for a race. I tucked behind the Swiss Magali Di Marco Messmer and let her do the work of leading the swim (much to her dismay, as she told me after, as she counted on doing the same to me!). On the bike, it was cold and rainy (a far cry from the previous week’s race) and the front pack of 19 negotiated the course conservatively. Luckily, we entered the with a 2:30 advantage over the chase group, letting me feel a bit more comfortable about my ability to finish in the top-20. I started off strong, moving my way through the pack up after a poor transition, and held a comfortable pace. About halfway through the run, Andrea Whitcomb and Debbie Tanner passed me and I sat on their shoulders for the next 4+k. While they outran me in the end, I finished 11th, exceeding my low expectations going into the race. Throughout the run, I kept on waiting to feel bad and was surprised to find that I managed to pull off a good sub-36 minute 10k and feel comfortable doing so. It always feels good to exceed one’s expectations.
After too much bread and chocolate wafers and too little training recently, I am very excited to resume training. As my next race is in September, I should be able to get in a great block of training. The last big block that I had was in April, so I’m definitely keen to put my head down and train. I’ll keep you posted!
Unrelated tidbit: The slugs are massive is Austria, as thick as a big man’s thumb and as long as his thumb. Like slugs here, they also eat their own dead. Gross.
Friday, July 18, 2008
Heatin' it up in Hungary
What do you get when you combine a small Hungarian town, some of the best triathletes in the world, a lap-counting lady in a dinosaur costume and beer? Surprisingly, you get one of the best triathlon festivals that I have experienced. After spending a few days in Tiszaujvaros, Hungary, I can say that, while the town might have something to be desired in the way of architecture (a decidedly stark eastern bloc motif) and restaurant offerings (I missed my veggies); they certainly know how to take one sporting event and turn it into a week-ling extravaganza. From dancing competitions, a junior triathlon, a triathlon-like event which involved beer kegs and paddles, live music, fireworks, free-flowing beer and strudel and jazzercise, the people in Tizzy know how to take one mere triathlon World cup and turn the event into an extravaganza.
At the heart of the days of festivities, however, is the World Cup, the only event in which I participated. I placed 4th, my best finish to date at a World Cup, but not without some serious suffering. Anyone who follows my racing will have noticed that I have the tendency to race better when the temperature is below 80 degrees. I blame my parent's short-sighted decision to raise us in Upstate NY where I couldn't develop teflon-like heat resistance. When I was informed that the temperature would reach (98 F) 37C on the day of the race, I was very apprehensive but hopeful that I might have my first great warm-weather. Maybe, just maybe!
From the start of the race, I was off the front, gaining time in the swim and working solo until 10k or so into the bike, caught by a pack of four. During and before the race, I did everything I knew to do to combat the heat: starting the race well-hydrated, salting my food, taking liquids throughout the bike and dumping water on me. In my pack were three women I knew to be a real threat on the run: Felicity Abrams (Aussie currently ranked #1 in the world), Mariana Ohata (Brazilian known to race better as the mercury rises) and Andrea Whitcomb (veteran racer who represented the UK on the track in the Sydney Olympics). The first two kilometers of the run I felt good and took the pace out hard, leading the run of a world cup for the first time, until Felicity and Andrea passed me (fun while it lasted, though!). With each successive kilometer, however, my pace decreased and I felt increasingly worse. By the time I hit the last lap with 2.5 k remaining, I knew that there was a serious risk that I would be incapable of finishing, as I am unfortunately very familiar with the signs of heat exhaustion. Each step was a struggle, feeling as though I was running through mud, my cadence and form painfully reflecting that effort. As Boris, the assistant coach for the race, later described it, it was as though I was doing a very odd running drill the last few hundred meters of the race. Or, as I call it, I was performing the "prancing pony", a very deliberate, exaggerated running form with much activity but little forward movement. Miraculously, I crossed the line and then collapsed (and not vice versa), preserving my 4th place finish. I was an absolute mess for the next hour- needing IVs, medications and the close attention of medical staff, as well as Jillian, a fellow US racer, and Boris (thank you thank you thank you!). I'm not sure how I will recover and whether my exertions in the heat will have consequences this weekend in the World Cup in Kitzbuhel, Austria. To be part of a race in Tizsaujvaros, however, was almost worth the suffering.
At the heart of the days of festivities, however, is the World Cup, the only event in which I participated. I placed 4th, my best finish to date at a World Cup, but not without some serious suffering. Anyone who follows my racing will have noticed that I have the tendency to race better when the temperature is below 80 degrees. I blame my parent's short-sighted decision to raise us in Upstate NY where I couldn't develop teflon-like heat resistance. When I was informed that the temperature would reach (98 F) 37C on the day of the race, I was very apprehensive but hopeful that I might have my first great warm-weather. Maybe, just maybe!
From the start of the race, I was off the front, gaining time in the swim and working solo until 10k or so into the bike, caught by a pack of four. During and before the race, I did everything I knew to do to combat the heat: starting the race well-hydrated, salting my food, taking liquids throughout the bike and dumping water on me. In my pack were three women I knew to be a real threat on the run: Felicity Abrams (Aussie currently ranked #1 in the world), Mariana Ohata (Brazilian known to race better as the mercury rises) and Andrea Whitcomb (veteran racer who represented the UK on the track in the Sydney Olympics). The first two kilometers of the run I felt good and took the pace out hard, leading the run of a world cup for the first time, until Felicity and Andrea passed me (fun while it lasted, though!). With each successive kilometer, however, my pace decreased and I felt increasingly worse. By the time I hit the last lap with 2.5 k remaining, I knew that there was a serious risk that I would be incapable of finishing, as I am unfortunately very familiar with the signs of heat exhaustion. Each step was a struggle, feeling as though I was running through mud, my cadence and form painfully reflecting that effort. As Boris, the assistant coach for the race, later described it, it was as though I was doing a very odd running drill the last few hundred meters of the race. Or, as I call it, I was performing the "prancing pony", a very deliberate, exaggerated running form with much activity but little forward movement. Miraculously, I crossed the line and then collapsed (and not vice versa), preserving my 4th place finish. I was an absolute mess for the next hour- needing IVs, medications and the close attention of medical staff, as well as Jillian, a fellow US racer, and Boris (thank you thank you thank you!). I'm not sure how I will recover and whether my exertions in the heat will have consequences this weekend in the World Cup in Kitzbuhel, Austria. To be part of a race in Tizsaujvaros, however, was almost worth the suffering.
Tuesday, June 24, 2008
Des Moines wrap-up
Every athlete accepts that you will have some bad races. Unfortunately, these bad races occasionally occur when you least want them to. This weekend in Des Moines, I experienced one of those races and, needless to say, having a bad race at Olympic Trials is not good timing. As I saw my chance to make the Olympic Team slipping away from me within the first mile of the run, my race mentally ended at that point. What I didn't realize until after the race, however, is that I gave away my position as alternate in addition, a position that should have easily been mine. I can't exactly explain what happened, even though I've replayed the race a thousand times in my head. I started the race with confidence, swam well and was in control on the bike. Within a few minutes of the run, however, something happened mentally and I fought my impulse to quit every step for the remainder of the race. Although I finished in 9th, a very respectable placing at a World Cup, I raced so far below my potential that I can't help but be devastated by the result.
Luckily for me, my family and friends help me keep the race in perspective (thanks to all for your pre-race wishes of luck and post-race buoying!). After all, my goal last year was to make the Olympic Trials and I vastly exceeded my expectations by even being a contender for a position. As I look forward to 2012, I have to remind myself of how far I have come and be excited by the improvements that I have yet to make. While I may not have been ready for Beijing, the lessons that I've learned through the 2008 Trials process will certainly pay off in the long-term.
Luckily for me, my family and friends help me keep the race in perspective (thanks to all for your pre-race wishes of luck and post-race buoying!). After all, my goal last year was to make the Olympic Trials and I vastly exceeded my expectations by even being a contender for a position. As I look forward to 2012, I have to remind myself of how far I have come and be excited by the improvements that I have yet to make. While I may not have been ready for Beijing, the lessons that I've learned through the 2008 Trials process will certainly pay off in the long-term.
Wednesday, June 18, 2008
The Adventure Continues...
In preparation for this weekend's duathlon in Des Moines, I changed my hotel to West Des Moines, did a du-style pre-race tune-up workout yesterday and bought platform duathlon pedals which eliminates shoe changes. I had yet to figure out my outfit (wearing a swimsuit when no water is involved just seems so wrong) when I received the news that the race will most likely be a triathlon once again. Thank goodness. Between my duathlon insecurities (I'm not even sure of the distances involved!) and the Olympic selection mess, my life is greatly simplified by the running of a triathlon. Bill Burke, the race director, and the Hy-Vee staff deserve some nice cold ones post-race after the nightmare they've endured in running this event.
While I'm relieved to know that I will have the opportunity to race this weekend, I admit to having some reservations. After hearing of how deeply lives have been affected in the Midwest by the flooding, it somehow seems inappropriate to be competing in a race in Des Moines. Sport is a luxury, not a necessity. When people have lost their worldly possession and homes to the flood waters, how can I focus on something so inconsequential as triathlon? While I realize that I am doing more than just racing, as I am following a dream, I am painfully aware that my ability to chase that dream is an incredible privilege. Whatever happens this weekend in the race, I'm certain that my surroundings will help ground me and remind me of my great fortune in life.
While I'm relieved to know that I will have the opportunity to race this weekend, I admit to having some reservations. After hearing of how deeply lives have been affected in the Midwest by the flooding, it somehow seems inappropriate to be competing in a race in Des Moines. Sport is a luxury, not a necessity. When people have lost their worldly possession and homes to the flood waters, how can I focus on something so inconsequential as triathlon? While I realize that I am doing more than just racing, as I am following a dream, I am painfully aware that my ability to chase that dream is an incredible privilege. Whatever happens this weekend in the race, I'm certain that my surroundings will help ground me and remind me of my great fortune in life.
Friday, June 13, 2008
Oh, Des Moines... *sigh*
Last year at the Hy-Vee World Cup in Des Moines, I had an unpleasant collision with a pedestrian who wandered onto the bike course. I ended up with a fracture in my radial head (aka elbow), an event that proved to be a mixed blessing. While injury is always best prevented, I managed to make the experience one of growth, as I raced the following weekend at the Edmonton World Cup (finishing a career-best 5th, despite searing pain) and proving to myself that I am tougher than I had previously thought. It seems as though Des Moines is once again putting me through the ringer, inconveniently experiencing devastating flooding recently and putting our final Olympic Trials race in jeopardy. Most likely, the race will be run as a duathlon and the Olympic eligibility will be determined by the results of the first two Trials races. As a result, it looks as though I will be first alternate for the Olympic Team.
In the wake of these recent developments, I'm going though a rather trying time. While I realize that I was a long-shot to make the team (I would have to be 1st US at Des Moines), I still had an opportunity to try, now taken away my Mother Nature. Part of my disappointment lies in the fact that I still have something to prove to myself. While I contracted bacterial gastroenteritis in Beijing and just barely managed to finish the race, let alone race well, I recognize the fact that I was neither physically nor mentally ready to make the Olympic Team at that time. In Alabama, I was physically ready but not mentally so, racing too cautiously and scared, not having had the confidence that great results can bring. With a week until the final Olympic Trials race, I am finally at the point where I feel as though I am worthy to be an Olympian. The amount of personal growth that I have experienced in the past few months is invaluable and I look forward to using my burgeoning new confidence in the season to come, as well as in seasons to come and, most importantly, in my post-triathlon life. While I may still have a chance to race next weekend (waters must first recede and have acceptable bacteria levels), I accept this newest challenge that Des Moines is throwing my way.
In the wake of these recent developments, I'm going though a rather trying time. While I realize that I was a long-shot to make the team (I would have to be 1st US at Des Moines), I still had an opportunity to try, now taken away my Mother Nature. Part of my disappointment lies in the fact that I still have something to prove to myself. While I contracted bacterial gastroenteritis in Beijing and just barely managed to finish the race, let alone race well, I recognize the fact that I was neither physically nor mentally ready to make the Olympic Team at that time. In Alabama, I was physically ready but not mentally so, racing too cautiously and scared, not having had the confidence that great results can bring. With a week until the final Olympic Trials race, I am finally at the point where I feel as though I am worthy to be an Olympian. The amount of personal growth that I have experienced in the past few months is invaluable and I look forward to using my burgeoning new confidence in the season to come, as well as in seasons to come and, most importantly, in my post-triathlon life. While I may still have a chance to race next weekend (waters must first recede and have acceptable bacteria levels), I accept this newest challenge that Des Moines is throwing my way.
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