My Training Partner is a Jerk
My training partner is a jerk. He’s also one of the biggest reasons I still train. When I first met my training partner in 2004, I was an occasional runner who lacked motivation. With his constant enthusiasm and insistence, I’ve morphed from a couch potato (search my high school Facebook photos for proof) into a regular runner, who 1 year ago managed to complete a marathon. For the past 4 years, I’ve had tons of great training partners and friends. People who have encouraged me and pushed me and helped me get to a place that I can imagine that an Ironman is possible. I’ve also had my one constant training companion who hasn’t left my side.
When I adopted Starbuck in 2004, I thought I was a pretty active person – I was wrong. Suddenly I was forced outside every day because if I didn’t give in to a run, bike, ski or something, Starbuck would make my life miserable by howling at me and pulling on my pant leg. After almost 5 years of trying to keep up with the beast, I’ve cut my run times down and upped my personal odometer. I’ve also developed an enormous love for my furry little partner and a ferocious dedication to a creature that has become my fur-baby.
There are a million things that I love about Starbuck: he chases his tail upon command which is a wonderful little party trick, he snuggles with me when I cry, he is excited to see me every day when I get home, he keeps me company when Tony’s gone, he never runs away and he forces me outside when I’d rather just watch television. Starbuck was my very first friend in Whitehorse. During my first winter here, when I had no-one to hang out with and spent most evenings crying due to a lethal combination of Seasonal Affectiveness Disorder and loneliness, adopting him in February was what kept me sane and in the Yukon. In the weeks leading up to my wedding, when stress and exhaustion made me want to curl up and die, instead I’d lie on the couch with my face buried in his fur.
Despite a puppyhood filled with hyperactivity that has not been seen since…well, to be honest, my childhood, Starbuck has learned to relax over the last year. He is content lying on the couch and hanging out in the garage; and while a good run, bike or ski is still needed occasionally, he no longer vocalizes his constant desire to be in motion.
Although I love Starbuck dearly, he has one character flaw that drives me to the brink of insanity and leaves me feeling helpless and angry. My dog is a jerk. I can’t think of any other word that describes him more accurately. He is the dog that thinks that all sticks in the forest belong to him, and makes sure that other dogs know it. He bullies our friends’ dogs in the same way a 13-year old school bully picks on the nerds (and I was a nerd, so I remember what this was like). If dogs are in the house, he will force them to sit in a corner, not letting them move around freely. If a dog dares to ignore his warnings or commands, he is quick to flip them over and growl in their face.
I try to think about this logically: dogs are pack animals with a hierarchy, it’s a natural part of their behaviour to determine dominancy. But, lets face it…my dog’s a jerk. The good thing, is that 99.9% of his jerkiness is reserved for his home on his turf. Something that I have a fairly easy time controlling – if friends’ dogs are in the house, the jerk is usually on the deck. Although having a jerk for a dog helps to curb friends’ desires to bring their own puppies over for a visit. Unfortunately for 0.1% of the time, Starbuck is a jerk to others. Last night after enjoying an outing where we passed numerous dogs and their owners, we were about to finish when we encountered a dog that for whatever reason didn’t appeal to Starbuck. The two dogs got into a small fight, that ended with me grabbing Starbuck and my cycle of Starbuck related angst re-started.
The thing about a dog fight that is so frustrating is that there is no way to have a conversation with your dog. Following the fight, Starbuck just wagged his tail and stuck out his tongue. In fact, given the opportunity, I think he would have liked to have gone for a quick run with his former playground foe, as whatever had upset him seemed to have been replaced with a desire to have fun. I’m left anthropomorphizing my dog in a desperate attempt to figure out how this might not be 100% attributed to my failings as a dog mother. The rest of the night was left with me feeling: mad at my dog, guilty that I threatened my dog with a permanent trip back to the shelter, sad that I have failed my dog so monumentally, horrible that my dog fought, scared that the other dog owner is angry at me and all around exhausted by what was supposed to be a relaxing walk in the woods. All I want in the world is to be able to sit down with Starbuck, explain why fighting is not appropriate, repeat my favourite daycare mantra of “use your words when you are mad” and receive a commitment that it won’t happen again. Despite my efforts with this type of conversation, all that I get is a head cocked to the left and a retrieved hat (a trick that’s somehow gone terribly wrong). I can’t help but wonder what kind of mother I will make, when my dog can send me into an emotional tailspin. I remember life at the daycare – imagine what I’ll do when it’s my toddler in the playground biting his friends.
For now, I’m considering moving me and my dog far away to a secluded cabin where we can live out our lives in solitude without the stress of socialization. I’m also going to emotionally prepare for the potential comments re-iterating what I already know is true – the dog’s not the problem…the owner is.
Sierra posted this on Dec 04, 2008 from the doghouse | | permanent link
New Mom!
Week 39: November 24 - November 30
Run: 10 km
Bike: 46 km
Swim: 6500 m
Ski: 20 km
My poor, neglected blog! It’s been shamelessly ignored for the last few weeks, but with good reason. I am a new Mom, and as all new Moms know, things are a bit hectic when your little one arrives.
Plans to bring home a new little one were made way back in August, when I first saw the newest addition to our family, but she only arrived this weekend from the Lower Mainland. I spent Friday afternoon glued to my office window watching for the Air North flight that was carrying my baby; and as soon as it arrived, I sped to the airport to get her.
She arrived packed tightly in bubble wrap and cardboard.
She was happy to break free and get her first big gulp of Yukon air.
Her name had been picked out long before her arrival and as soon as she emerged, I knew Snowbitch would suit her perfectly.
We brought her downstairs to meet her brothers and sisters.
Then she was whisked away for all-day surgery with the Bike Doctor, in the Whitehorse General Man Cave. Poor Starbuck was so worried about her, that he couldn’t stand to leave her side.
After six long hours, she was in tip-top shape and ready for her first journey onto the trails.
I thought the first week with Snowbitch would be relatively easy, with us getting to know one another and just revelling in the joy of a new relationship. Unfortunately disaster struck on the very first day I returned to work. In what seems to be a normal occurrence in Whitehorse these days, the power went out on Wednesday afternoon and the parking garage below my office began to fill with the dangerous smell of gas. Terrified that a gas explosion or something equally sinister might happen to my darling Snowbitch, I ran down the stairs, with only the emergency lights to guide me. Unlocked Snowbitch from her bike rack, hoisted her on my shoulder and carried her up four flights of stairs to the safety of my office. Snowbitch may be a new bike, but she isn’t a light one…I think pure adrenaline fuelled my final steps to the fourth floor.
Be assured there will be lots of photos of Snowbitch in the coming entries. Like a tiger cub, Snowbitch hasn’t quite developed her adult coloring, but it shouldn’t be long until she morphs into her final form and I look forward to sharing her journey into maturity!
Sierra posted this on Dec 02, 2008 from the gym | | permanent link
Brrr....
Week 37 and 38: November 10 - November 23
Run: 15 km
Bike: 55 km
Swim: 13000 m
Ski: 35 km
What do you do when the weather is cold and the sun sets early?
Run with friends.
Ski with friends.
Bike with (furry) friends.
Sierra posted this on Dec 02, 2008 from the gym | | permanent link
Bonne Fete a Moi
Week 36: November 3 - November 9
Run: 0 km
Bike: 16 km
Swim: 7000 m
Ski: 16 km
Every fall, right after the sun virtually disappears from the Yukon sky, my birthday emerges from the frost and snow. There are a few things that I really love about my birthday: I get to eat black forest cake, I get to buy 2 months worth of unnecessary luxuries entirely guilt free and I get an excuse to spend time with all my friends. I knew this birthday was going to have favorite items one, thanks to my new role as Lusia's temporary guardian. In fact, secretly I agreed to take on the Ward thanks to her incredible black forest cake making abilities.
After spending my real birthday with a lamb leg, a Ward and a husband; I planned to spend Saturday skiing and eating with some friends. The morning started as most Saturdays do, with a trip to a restaurant for breakfast. Imagine my surprise when into the restaurant walked my friend Paul and a monkey! Thankfully this monkey was not a lice carrying marsupial, but a mountain biking babe who had been very much missed since her departure from Whitehorse at the end of Summer. In a wonderfully unexpected birthday surprise, my friend Julie came up to help me celebrate my 27th year on this planet.
After a quick catch up over breakfast, we headed to Mt. McIntyre to try out my not quite as surprising birthday present - a new pair of skis. The reason these skis weren't a surprise is because in manipulative Scorpio fashion, I harassed and wrangled various members of my family to purchase them as a gift. In the end I had boots from my Father, skis from my Husband and bindings from Starbuck - all together they made up the first new pair of brand new skis I've ever owned. There couldn't be a better year to have gotten skis, as the early snow and cold has meant the early opening of the ski trails.
This photo shows how poorly Paul and I pose for "action photos".
Paul, Julie, Tony and I spent the afternoon skiing with the doggies and eating yummy chocolate. Not much more you could ask for on a birthday weekend!
After the exercise portion of the evening, we headed to Lusia's house to take advantage of the fact her parents' are out of town and enjoy a prime rib dinner and bonfire. I was lucky enough to get some custom cupcakes care of Barb, complete with rubber chickens and crayola crayon candles (look closely).
In the end I had a fabulous birthday, and I look forward to a 27th year full of good wine and good friends (oh yeah, and lots of training).
Sierra posted this on Nov 12, 2008 from the gym | | permanent link
I am the Egg Man, I am the Otter
Week 35: October 27 - November 2
Run: 0 km
Bike: 16 km
Swim: 3500 m
Ski: 25 km
While attempting to recover from the Fall of pain and illness, I have spent more time in the pool than anywhere else. Most of this time has been spent with the newly formed Whitehorse Master's Swim Club, which has been an experiment in humiliation. To put it bluntly, swimming is not my strong suit. In fact, swim club is pretty much a full hour of horrible pain while I desperately try to keep up with a lane full of fish.
I don't quite understand why swimming is such an exercise in futility. In fact, I feel like it's downright unfair that I move so slowly through the water. In the game of "Which Animal are You?", I have long considered myself a Sea Otter. While the connection might not be obvious, just think your last zoo or aquarium visit where otters were concerned - "Mommy - look at that otter, isn't it adorable? It looks like it is purposely playing right in front of the glass so that everyone will look at it and ignore the much cuter baby beluga next door. Mommy - is it true that otters have a subcutaneous level of fat that helps them maintain a constant level of activity over extended periods of time?". Given my obvious resemblance to the otter, you would think that I could glide through the water with speed and ease. Adding insult to injury is the fact that I love the water - there is nowhere I'd rather be than sitting in the lake at Lac La Biche. Apparently I just don't love moving through water.
Swim Club happens three times a week at the ungodly hour of 7:00 am. This is not quite as ungodly as the freaks who take the 6:00 am Swim Club, but it is still painfully early. We are supposed to start class with a "Warm-Up", which feels less like a warm-up and more like the first foray into pain. I usually only make it halfway through before the rest of class is finished and ready to move onto part II. I'm not sure what the technical term for the second phase of class is, but I like to think of it as the "Exploding Head and Lungs Journey into Hell". This is where we swim certain lengths in certain periods of time. Most people get a rest after each couple lengths, I can barely make the time-lines given and seem to swim most of the lengths in succession. After this portion, we practice other strokes. I don't know how to do any of these other strokes, so I just flop around in the water like a drowning rat and hope nobody notices. The best part about all this is that I get to do the entire thing in a bathing suit.
Sierra posted this on Nov 09, 2008 from the gym | | permanent link
Working out in Absentia
Week 34: October 20-27
Run: 0 km
Bike: 0 km
Swim: 1500 m
For the second time in a month, I caught a flight out of Winter and headed down South to much milder weather of British Columbia. This time my trip was work related - which didn't stop me from visiting with friends and abandoning all semblance of a work-out plan. There were two things that I realized when in Vancouver this month: working out and working holiday do not mix; and Vancouver has become a refuge of lost/misplaced friends.
Despite my best efforts and greatest intentions, I seem incapable of sustaining any kind of work-out plan while on work trips. Every time I go to Vancouver, the number of excuses for not working out seems to grow. This year alone, 3 Whitehorse friends abandoned the Yukon for the great lower Mainland dream. That combined with my glorious SFU friends and recently transposed Edmonton friends and I need a blackberry to plan out a social schedule for the week.
This trip I managed a few new Vancouver highlights:
1. Wine/Cheese Bar
I actually managed to hit two wine/cheese places in Vancouver this time. The first, called Salt, is located in the aptly named Blood Alley. Walking to this restaurant down Water Street brought up some fond memories of University and the beginnings of my love affair with Anthony. In fact, Salt was located only a few blocks from the seedy hotel room that Anthony occupied (and I never saw due to the no Visitors rule) during our last year of University. It was surprising Gastown's transformation from seedy to chic; and walking to an expensive eatery via an alley way spotted with junkies shooting heroin was a bit odd. The juxtaposition of Vancouver's rich and poor has always been shocking, but this was the first time I wondered if the new condos and restaurants were actually using the poverty and drug addiction as part of their 'decor'. That being said, strictly tastebuds speaking, Salt was delicious, but not recommended for the very hungry. The menu is strictly meat, cheese and wine; and the staff are happy to pair it up in some delicious combinations. I enjoyed the wine and cheese so much that I spent Saturday night at Soma, which I find equally delicious, although slightly less exciting in its surroundings.
2. Shopping
Despite spending almost 4 years living in the lower Mainland, I never realized where all the great shopping was until I came back to Vancouver as a tourist. This is probably because for the entire time I lived in Vancouver, I had no money to shop and used the local Value Village as the source of all goods. Now, I wander up and down Main Street and West 4th to find all sorts of fabulous goodies. The best store I've seen yet is the Regional Assembly of Text, a little shop that sells stationary, card and an assortment of printed materials. As a focused shopper, I honed in on all things bicycle and came out of the shop with a button, stationary, shirt and lovely pair of bicycle briefs.
3. Bike Shops
The great thing about Vancouver is the multitude of bike shops that line every street. I've often extolled the virtues of the bike paths of Vancouver, but equally impressive are the shops. The biking population of Vancouver is able to support fixie shops, triathlon shops, cruiser shops, bmx shops and everything in between. This can be challenging for me, as I often return to Whitehorse with a bunch of accessories I don't actually need. Occasionally, I make it back to the Yukon with something that is a necessity. This time I found a special lighting system that will we revealed when Snowbitch the Pugsley when she makes her debut.
Sierra posted this on Nov 09, 2008 from the gym | | permanent link
Nail in the Coffin
Week 32 and 33: October 6 - October 19
Run: 0 km
Bike: 0 km
Swim: 4500 m
This was supposed to be the big marathon week-end. For months I've had all the logistics in place and been excited as my marathon goal started to look attainable. Unfortunately bacteria got in the way, and I've been approaching marathon week-end with a combination of depression, at not being able to run; and excitement at spending a week-end with friends, without the burden of having to run. Even as my lungs continued to fill with phlegm, I still entertained the notion of doing a run or walking with my Mom. That dream crashed (literally) after I arrived in Vancouver and promptly opened a steel door onto my big toe. Someone out there really doesn't want me to run.
Needless to say, any dream of walking or running was gone and I was left to limp the weekend away. Thankfully, I got to do this in the company of some friends who had recently abandoned the Yukon for Vancouver and our new Ward. In the last two weeks, Tony and I have become the proud parents of a 16 year old. Most people decide to start their parenting with a baby, but we went straight for the teenager. While our good friends Beth and George are exploring the wonders of China, their daughter Lusia is our Ward. As a brave parent, I immediately stuck Lusia on a plane and dragged her to Victoria. Jenn, Julie and I spent the weekend hanging around Victoria: shopping, eating, and watching others suffer.
One of the poor souls I got to watch suffer through the marathon was my own Mother, who I had successfully convinced to do a marathon with me. It was nice to take on the role of supporter, when for the last year I have been a support-sucker instead of a support-giver. I also got to see the front-runners speed through the 1/2 and full marathon; and tried to feel inspired by people whose marathon speeds exceed my fastest sprint.
As you can see, the weeks weren't a total disaster and I did manage to get to the pool three times for my Master's swim class. Thus far, swim class has been a lesson in humility as I routinely get run over in the pool. I'd like to think bad lungs were partly to blame, but I have a bad feeling it's just horrendous technique.
Sierra posted this on Oct 20, 2008 from the outside | | permanent link
White Flag
Week 31: September 28 - October 5
Run: 0 km
Bike: 0 km
Swim: 0 km
The white flag is waving, the towel is in the ring, my hands are up and I'm screaming "Uncle". This is all to say - I give up! I have done nothing this week - I have not ridden a bike, I have not gone for a jog and I have yet to dip my toe in the pool. I have spent the entire week wallowing in self pity as my lungs continue to produce phlegm at an unreasonable rate. Any fantasies I had about doing the Victoria marathon has dissipated and I'm not even sure I'll be able to walk it with Mom. The idea of doing Seattle at the end of November is even starting to look impossible.
During all the training runs and interval sets of the summer, I couldn't imagine how much I would miss running. I go to bed every night hoping that my lungs will feel strong and clean when I wake up, so I can do a small tour of the Millenium trail. Every week I re-visit the calendar to check if I've got enough time before Seattle, or Las Vegas or Honolulu, or any other pre-January 1 marathon. All I want is to get back on my feet - or more precisely get my feet back into my running shoes. I've been trying to figure out what I am missing, since during every workout I can't wait to be finished. What I've discovered is it isn't the act of running that I enjoy, it's the moments after the run that I love. It's being exhausted after powering through a long run, it's feeling the muscles in my legs before I go to sleep, it's that non-stop hunger that I know is caused by my body begging for more calories. Right after a run, my muscles are warm enough to do a proper Downward Dog (my least favorite yoga stretch) and a warm shower feels like the most luxurious spa.
I want to run....who would have thought?
Sierra posted this on Oct 07, 2008 from the livingroom | | permanent link
A New Challenge
Week 30: September 22-27
Soap Opera Episodes: 14
Ben and Jerry Tubs: 1
Twilight Books: 4
As you may have guessed, the recovery from illness has not happened as quickly as I had hoped. My dreams of a long Saturday run were officially destroyed by a Friday night visit to the hospital and subsequent perscriptions. Friday night trips to the hospital are not advised, as Fridays seem to be a favorite for a plethora of injured/ill people. This has left me in a difficult position - my Doctors (and my lungs) are suggesting that a marathon in 2 weeks is not possible. In an unfortunate case of being too well prepared - I have already booked flights, hotels, and got the early bird price for the marathon entry; none of which I can realistically cancel. I also managed to convince my parents to join me in Victoria, and it's going to be difficult to place a pseudo-Sierra in my place. So I am heading to Victoria in 14 days with a new challenge ahead.
That's right, I've replaced the sub 4:15 marathon girl with something even more difficult. Joining me in this difficult task will be my Mother, the bronze medal walker in the Edmonton ING marathon. Anyone who has met my Mother or I will know that this will be one of the toughest races of our lives because we are going to try to NOT get a personal best. In fact, we are going to go above and beyond a worst time and shoot for something that will result in no sore feet, or achy lungs, or questionable joints. We will aim for the bottom of the finishers list and possibly enjoying a couple of lattes (to stay) on the way. We will keep a pace that allows for maximal gossiping and minimal heavy breathing and in the end it will do nothing for our training or racing resume You might be asking yourself why this is such a difficult thing to do. You might even say to yourself: "Sierra you are already naturally slow, why would you care about being even slower". But the truth is, I don't like to be slow. In fact, I secretly dream of being moderate...or even fast.
I'd love to tell you that my Mom was going to be there to keep the pace down, but this is the same woman who perfected the "Fake n' Sprint" - a clever move where you ski/bike/run with your family for a long race, before sprinting out the last 100 m and leaving everyone in the dust. If anyone catches on to the move, there are several variations that you can try - asking for a drink of water, then sprinting away when someone goes to hand it for you, grabbing your knee in pain and then knocking down the person who comes to help before racing to the finish - you got the point. I am keeping my guard up in the final 200 m, in fact I encourage anyone in Victoria to be at the finish line around 2:00 pm on Thanksgiving Sunday for a sprint finale that will rival the Men's Olympic Triathlon for excitement.
Although my sub 4:15 marathon girl is on hold, I haven't given up on it completely. I'm contemplating an end of November Seattle marathon as long as lungs and knees hold up. I'm determined to strike this one of the list before January 1 and I'm hoping my body will help me out. It seems like a silly thing to even consider when I can't bike to work without losing my breath. If anyone knows of good CHEAP accommodations in Seattle, please let me know!
What does someone do when they are stuck on the couch/bed for 7 days? As ashamed as I am to admit the truth, I feel like it is my responsibility as a blogger to share my experience. If it can save even one internet user from making the same mistake, it will be worth publishing the truth. I spent the bulk of the week reading the Twilight series. If you haven't read Twilight, you are probably thinking that reading anything is a good idea. The truth is that Twilight is cocaine infused words. I don't know what kind of crazy mind altering tricks they incorporated into that series, but after one chapter you can't stop. Chapter after chapter - book after book, it's impossible to curb the urge; and yet with every word you ask yourself why you are abusing your brain. Approximately 4 books and 3000 pages later, I still wonder why I wasted so many hours when there are fabulous books waiting to be read. At the same time, I just want more...more Jacob and Edward and Bella, more dazzling and forever and vampire love-making. I had to return the books to their owner this morning because I knew as long as they were in the house I wouldn't be able to keep away. Now I just search Wikipedia and IMDB for updates on the film. This cures some of the withdrawal, but I worry that going to Mac's Fireweed or Amazon will send me careening off the wagon and back into Forks, Washington.
Sierra posted this on Sep 29, 2008 from the livingroom | | permanent link
Letting Go
Week 28/29: September 8-21
Bike: 80 km (more downhill than uphill...physically impossible if not for a shuttle)
Run: 200 m in the pool (which equals 3 hours of pool running)
Swim: 3000 m
Growing up, my Mom had a sign above the kitchen that said "Relax - God's in Control". Whether you believe in a higher power or not, sometimes it's nice to think somebody out there has got it all figured out, because I apparently don't. The past two weeks have involved putting my life into the hands of others (not God - but Kate, who as far as I'm concerned is pretty darned close)and ice packs/antibiotics/Ibuprofen. I prefer when I am completely in charge, but considering the circumstances, it hasn't been too horrible.
Following the glory that was the Klondike Road Relay, I decided to try my luck at the local 5 km Tuesday race. Thanks to a very low turn out, I managed to not only set a personal best and crack the 25 minute mark, but also win the women's side of the race. This was recorded in posterity by the Yukon News which graciously identified me as "marathon runner Sierra van der Meer". I found this an interesting description, as it is almost as accurate as saying "Red Sea diver Sierra van der Meer", which I've also done once. You have to love Yukon newspapers for helping bolster the self-esteem of all their lowly readers. While basking in my new achievement (and subsequent fame and glory), I failed to notice that my knee was not feeling nearly as happy as I was.
It appeared that a mere four weeks before the marathon, I was going to be temporarily unable to run. This meant that instead of running, I would have to spend some time enjoying the last weeks of fall and final days of mountain biking. With the colors changing, the bike riding became more like bike and click, than anything else. Tony and I enjoyed a trip down what is soon becoming my favorite Whitehorse ride - El Camino/Blues Brothers.
As you can see, Sheera is practically camouflaged in amongst the autumn leaves.
Even Starbuck looks classy against the multi-colored foliage.
After the El Camino ride with Tony I was feeling surprisingly confident in my new mountain biking abilities and decided to step it up a notch and try one of the more difficult trails. This is not something I would be capable of doing on my own, and recruited some friends to take me down the hill o' death (I needed back up that could call the ambulance if I went down in a horrible accident). The four girls decided to head up to Easy Money on the top of Grey Mountain. As you can see - 3 of the girls are excited about the trip and one (yes, it's me) is terrified at what could be her last fully mobile sports activity.
As promised, Monika, Kate and Jocelyn kept me safe and managed to get me all the way down the hill - on my bike! Logic (and physics) says that going down the hill should be faster than going up, but my hesitancy meant lots of additional waiting while I cried in fear. Despite my pleas to walk, Kate convinced me that I could (and should) go down on the bike, despite the insane grade. Eventually, we made it all the way down the hill, and while I'm not sure that I'll do Easy Money again, I certainly find everything else a little bit easier.
My newly acquired over-confidence convinced me that a trip to Carcross would be a great way to practice more adrenaline pumping downhill biking. I was slightly worried about being the slowest one in the group, but thought I should take advantage of the expertise of mountain biking experts like Monika:
And Paul Gowdie:
The day of Carcross fun ended with one broken wrist, one separated shoulder and four flight tires. Is it wrong that I'm happy it wasn't me? The rides down Montana included some hike and bike, but less hike and more bike than before. While I'm not hucking off any sweet jumps, I am slowly conquering my fear of the steep. I'm also learning all about the glories of shuttling - in theory shuttling ruins the purity of the ride - in practice in means no up and just down. Shuttling rocks!
While all the biking has been fun, I am still left with the slight problem of three weeks until a marathon that I've never run more than 3 hours, or 26 km in preparation for. Between unhappy knees and newly diagnosed tonsilitis, I'm feeling less than confident and more than worried. I had hoped for a sub 4:15 marathon, but now I'm hoping to finish. I'm still trying to figure out what to do: Option 1 is try to finish the Victoria Marathon, Option 2 is forget about Victoria and try for the Seattle Marathon at the end of November. I'll see if these antibiotics do me any good, and I hope to be running by Saturday.
Sierra posted this on Sep 24, 2008 from the gym | | permanent link
Trail of '98
Week 27: September 1-7
Bike: 46 km
Run: 35 km
Swim: 0...but I signed up for Master's Swim Class, so that almost counts as a workout
The darkness is setting in early and the crazy summer schedule of events is quickly coming to an end. To celebrate the fast approach of winter and the end of the midnight sun one of the biggest (and arguably silliest) events of the year happens - the Trail of 98 Klondike Road Relay. This event is huge (1200 runners) and ridiculous (180 km from 7:30 pm to 3:00 pm the next day), but I've already blogged about it's craziness.
This year was the second annual running of the "Moving at the Speed of Government" team. This team is made up of federal, territorial and occasionally First Nation government employees. We stay true to our name by making sure that we always fall in the bottom part of the standings - never moving too quickly or efficiently. Last year, part of our bureaucratic strategy was to miss a hand-off and take an hour and a half penalty. This year, we wanted to avoid those types of obvious time wasters and concentrate on having fun and looking good.
The distribution of legs for Klondike Road Relay is always a bit difficult. There are 10 legs which range in length from 9 to 26 km, and which run at all times during the day/night. Last year, I took the shortest leg, because I was in the midst of recovering from a cranky knee. This year, I was planning on being healthy (not completely successful), so I decided to take leg 6, a 26 km run into Carcross. I was joined on my mission by Polly and Melissa, two friends from work, who were running legs 4 and 5.
Our portion of the event started at 10:30 pm, when we hopped into the car and headed towards to Canada/US border for Melissa's leg of the race. We arrived at the start of leg 4 at around 12:30 am, just in time to start the two footed trek back to Whitehorse. Despite the insane hour in the morning, a combination of coffee, cookies and loud music kept Polly and I pumped through Melissa's 21 km run in the dark. Next up was the quick-footed Polly, who zipped through her 22 km in a little over 2 hours and had me ready to run just after 5 in the morning.
The appeal of running leg 6 of the relay, aside from an early morning 26 km relay, is that if you are lucky you get to watch the sun rise over Carcross. That would have been an amazing site, I'm sure, but I was unfortunately too slow to catch it. Thankfully, the sun did rise as I ran, and I was witness to a splendid fall display of yellows, reds and oranges that would have zipped by much too fast if I was sitting in a 4-wheeled vehicle.
The run went well, until the last 4 km going into Carcross. Normally a downhill is a fun way to end a run, but not an extended downhill on the pavement at the end of a long run. I could feel my knees starting to ache as I moved towards town, and I knew that the result might not be too good. I finished up strong, but went straight into Nares Lake to try to stop the swelling from getting out of control.
After limping out of the water, Polly, Melissa and I headed back into town just as the rest of the world was waking up on a Saturday morning. I got into my bed, just in time for Tony to get up and announce his intention to ride to Braeburn. I couldn't muster a response and just put my head on the pillow and shut my eyes. My rest lasted a couple hours, before I got up to meet Lisa on the final leg of the relay and head through Miles Canyon towards the finish line.
All things considered, it was an excellent race, especially because I had made my time goal by finishing the 26 km in just under 2:30 hours. I was feeling pretty chuff about the whole thing until I went to check the official time and saw that they had me clocked in at 2:35. It's not that 7 minutes is the difference between a world record or not, but 2:28 put me in the perfect position for the Victoria Marathon, and 2:35 meant that meeting my 4:15 goal would be pretty darn tough. In the end I'm not sure who had the right times us or them, but I'm trying to believe that it was us - even if it's a lie, I'm sure the confidence can't be anything but good for me!.
Sierra posted this on Sep 21, 2008 from the outside | | permanent link
Sierra and Sierra
Week 26: August 25-August 31
Bike: 35 km
Run: 33.5 km
Swim: 5.6 km of open water pain!
Every summer for many, many years, I packed up my bathing suit and head to Lac La Biche for a weekend of swimming, smokies and vicious ping pong games. These summers were spent with the Maccagnos, my pseudo-family, who kept me around (aka didn't drive by when I sat on my front yard with my bag of clothes for the week-end). Summers at the Maccagnos included pig roasts, Pow-Wow parades, poker and the ongoing conversations over the naming of tvarious pets. Every year there would be a new horse, dog, chinchilla, rabbit, crayfish or guppy and every year I would suggest Sierra as a perfectly lovely name. A few days after the new animal's arrival I would get a phone call saying: "Guess what - we named the
Upon meeting Sierra, it became apparent that aside from some fairly minor differences (age, height, vocabulary), we were basically the same person. The first clue of our similarity is the way Sierra II came into the world - Dionne was scheduled to be induced in the afternoon, but Sierra II decided that nobody was going to tell her when she should, or should not, make her debut into the world, so she decided to come out a couple hours early. That is only one of the many shared characteristics between the Sierras, others include: a tendency to get cranky at around 9:00 pm, the need for constant feedings, a preference for being in motion, and a habit of unleashing great rage when being unexpectedly awoken from an afternoon nap.
In addition to those lovely habits, Sierra and I actually share a lot of physical features as well. We both have white round thighs, a big noisy mouth, and a nice round booty (although Sierra II did have the excuse of wearing a diaper, whereas my round ass is pure ice cream and cookies).
Although having a mini-Sierra is a huge honor and generally a pretty wicked thing, I didn't realize the benefits of having a fairly unique name. I spent much of the weekend confused as to why people were talking about my sleeping and urinating habits. It took about a day to stop myself from perking up every time I heard my name.
In addition to meeting Sierra II, I used my weekend at the lake to practice the one Ironman event that I wasn't feeling very confident about - the 3.8 km swim. I decided to try some long-distance lake swimming to see how close/far I was away from being able to complete the first leg of the Ironman. Sierra II's dad Alan, was kind enough to canoe with me and make sure that I wasn't the victim of an errant motorboat, or overzealous Sea-Doo. I had no idea how far the swim would take me, but I knew I wanted to swim to the Island in front of the Cabin. The swim to the Island was pretty good, and took me only about 35 minutes. Unfortunately, what I didn't realize is that the reason it was fairly quick was because of a nice wind pushing me along. The swim back was definitely more challenging and it took me 45 minutes to get back to the cabin. I was happy to see that the swim was 3.75 km, only 50 meters short of the Ironman distance. I'm not sure how ready I was to do 180 km on the bike after finishing, but I am feeling a little more confident about my swimming abilities.
The week-end was capped off with a long run through Lac La Biche, and an important lesson from Tristan, Erin's 4 year old son. Before heading out to my run, Tristan asked if he could join me. I told him he could come along, but I just needed a few minutes to get ready. Tristan watched inquistively while I got all my running gear together, including my: visor, running skirt, running shoes, iPod, and Garmin. After getting geared up Tristan asked me why I needed so much stuff to run - a question I didn't really have an answer to. Then asked if he could just wear what he already had on. I had forgotten in all my running-related purchases that all you really need to run is a pair of shoes...
Sierra posted this on Sep 14, 2008 from the outside | | permanent link
