Speedy Canizales

(I ran the marathon almost two months ago and just got around to writing about it. I just wanted to clear that up in case you thought I ran another marathon between then and now – that would be crazy!)

A week after finishing the LA marathon there were too many things buzzing around in my head to write a proper post, so I thought I’d wait until things settled down a bit to do a proper post-mortem.  Turns out that takes almost two months.

So – I did it!

I ran 26.2 miles and lived to tell the tale. My finish time was a respectable 3:51, 11 minutes over the Boston qualifying time for Boston. (However, if you look up my results at the LA Marathon website it will seem like I missed running Boston next year by 17 seconds. That’s because LA decided to try something new this year by putting the timing chip in the race bib instead of attaching it to our shoe, and mine stopped working somewhere around mile 18. My official time took my mile 18 split and “projected” my finish at 3:41.) My goal was to cross the finish line at 3:40 to qualify for the Boston marathon next year but it didn’t happen at this race. It’s back to the drawing board and another marathon in the fall or winter for me.

The week following the marathon I was beating myself up for missing my goal time. All I could think about was what I did wrong during the race. I started to get a cramp on my side at mile 7, and despite my best efforts to ward it off, I was in pain from mile 18 to the finish. It took all my willpower to get to the finish line, and when I FINALLY got there I was in a lot of pain. I was really angry at myself for giving in, and upset I could not overcome the pain. Looking back now I realize that did my best, and that I have every reason to be proud of myself. Even though I was in pain kept putting one foot in front of the other, and kept going until I reached the finish line. Sometimes it’s about putting forth the effort no matter what that makes us who we are. I’m sure that’s true for a lot of people who ran the marathon. It will make qualifying for Boston that much sweeter.

I learned a lot from my first marathon, both physically and emotionally. Physically I need to change my training plan so that I am running more miles at a faster pace. I found that during training my pace was slower than it should have been during my long runs, and in order to get faster I need to get my body used to a faster pace during training. Emotionally I need to stay relaxed and live in the moment. During the first few miles I constantly compared myself to other people and tried to keep up with them. They ultimately finished faster than me. That is probably how I got a cramp in the first place – trying to keep up – when I should have been focusing on my body and what it was trying to tell me.

All that running talk aside, running across LA was a blast!  There were so many people cheering from the sidewalks, encouraging runners to keep going and reminding them how awesome they are.  I felt like LA was giving me a big hug throughout the entire course.  At mile 12 I saw my boss cheering for me, and it perked up my spirits.  At mile 14 my mom and Rene were there, an awesome surprise (I didn’t expect them until the finish) and half a mile from them, drag queens in cheerleader outfits (only in West Hollywood!).  At mile 17 Nike store employees dressed in bright green bodysuits were yelling and shaking cowbells that could be heard a mile away.  At mile 19 there were cheerleader squads working their butts off with routines designed for the marathon.  All this on top of bands on the sidewalk playing music as runners passed, and offering runners all kinds of food if they needed it.  Normally people here in LA are so insulated in their own world (myself included), so getting that contact from strangers, all offering encouragement, was beautiful.

I fell in love with LA all over again.

(Complete LA Marathon album can be seen here.)

*****

A week after the marathon I jumped into training for my first Olympic distance triathlon at Wildflower. It’s a 1500-meter swim, 24-mile bike (hilly course) and 6.1-mile run at the end. I’ve practiced on the course twice already and… I am nervous!

I’m not worried about finishing the race (I’ve got this) but I want to do well and that has its own set of hang-ups and insecurities. I’m trying not to think about it too much and just live in the moment. As bizarre as this may sound, I often find myself smiling during a race. It gives my body such an adrenaline rush that I forget about the nervousness and the fatigue, and keep on going.

This is something I’ll be telling myself when I’m standing at the starting line with all the other females in my division at Lake San Antonio, shivering in my wetsuit and asking why I do this to myself.

You know that pickup line – “Are you tired?  Because you’ve been running through my mind all day” -  that describes exactly where I’ve been these past few months.  Yes, I am tired.  I have been running everywhere.

Let me take a step back and re-cap what I’ve been doing since my last post.  After taking our children (our dogs Chuy & Sadie) to the beach, we spent the rest of Thanksgiving weekend relaxing and getting ready for the week.  Out of nowhere Christmas came, followed by a visit to SoCal by the lovely Cristina, New Year’s, and then my workload exploded.  The thought of it still makes me shudder, and it is March.  Work is back to its usual pace.

In between Thanksgiving and now I have stepped up my workouts considerably to prepare for the LA Marathon, which I will run in less than two weeks.  March 21 to be exact.  To train for this marathon, my first marathon ever, I have been running five days a week, cross-training at least one day per week, and taking a nap on Saturdays and Sundays just to recover from all that activity.  Now you know why I’ve been AWOL – something had to give, and it was this blog.

After all that hard work – getting up at the crack of dawn to run, running 22 miles in the rain, running up a hill that didn’t seem to end (Bulldog trail I am referring to you!) – now I am facing the home stretch. As much as I would like to say that I am going to kick ass and take names,  I am nervous.  I am also afraid of so many things: I am afraid that my body may shut down at mile 20, I am afraid that I won’t meet my goal time, I am afraid of disappointing myself.  My goal now is to be my biggest cheerleader and banish these thoughts from my mind.  At the end of the day, I have to be proud that I set a goal and saw it to the finish.  There are so many people that can’t physically complete a marathon, and here I am whining about these stupid things.  I have to relax, focus, and have FUN.  Am I right?

Hoping the same is true for you, whatever adventure you are pursuing.

(More posts to come soon, I promise!)

If my dog Sadie could talk, she’d talk your ear off about our visit to the beach last week.

First she’d tell you about the LONG car ride to get there.  She paced up and down the minivan like a caged lion at the zoo, going to the back and then to the front.  From time to time she would plop between us, as if to ask if we were there yet.  Luckily there was no freeway traffic that day (Black Friday) and it only took us an hour to drive to the Long Beach Dog Beach.

Once we got there it was like setting wild animals loose – Sadie and Chuy could not wait to get out of the van and explore the area, and they were so giddy that Sadie slipped out of her collar.  She was excited about touching the sand and getting acquainted with the smells other dogs left behind.

When we finally reached the beach (after crossing a parking lot, stopping by the bathrooms to take off our shoes, and crossing a wide expanse of sand), it was fun watching Sadie experience the ocean for the first time.  This is her noticing the water:

This is her trying to decide whether the ocean is a friend or foe (notice the foam mustache):

And this is her deciding that the ocean is a dear, dear friend that she LOVES!

Chuy, on the other hand, was not very impressed with the Dog Beach.  He did not appreciate being wet:

Or the line of dogs following him around so they could sniff his butt:

No, Chuy prefers long car rides, and was happy for the trip to end.  Sadie, however, bolted when we told her it was time to go home:

Catching her was hard, especially when there were so many friends to be made and so much ocean to explore.  We managed to get hold of her after she got tired of chasing other dogs around:

And made our way home, where she slept for the rest of the day.  It was eerily quiet at our house that night.

(See the full album here.  All pictures taken by Rene.)

It seems to me that we spent most of our days thinking about the things we have to do, the things we want to do, or the things we want.  This takes up so much time that we (or at least, I) seldom think about the things that we do have; the things that we are grateful to have.

I am grateful for my health.  Save for the occasional headache (or migraine), allergy, cold or cough, I have been healthy this year.  My good health has allowed me to do amazing things – learn to swim, compete in triathlons, and run races.  I’m probably in the best shape of my life right now.

I am grateful for my husband and my family.  They are always around to support me, even when I am difficult and overbearing.  I’ve heard someone say that people who love you even when they’ve seen your ugly side are the ones worth keeping in life.  I second that.

(I tend to get sentimental after I have a few days off, when I’ve had a chance to re-energize.)

*****

I spent Thanksgiving Day doing two things meant to counter-act one another: running a race and eating lots of food.

I’ve always wanted to run a Thanksgiving race, ever since seventh grade when I lost the Turkey Trot due to some bad advice.  Every year in Junior High we ran the Turkey Trot, a two-mile course around the school.  Any girl or boy who broke the course record won a turkey.  I knew I wasn’t fast enough to win a turkey but I was fast enough to place in the top three.

On the day of the race my mom told me to eat well so that I would have lots of energy for the race.  In my little seventh grade mind I thought that applied to every meal, including the one right before the race – lunch.  That day I ate everything I had on my lunch tray – a turkey sandwich and a carton of milk – thinking it would make me more competitive.  Anyone who’s ever run a race knows that you should be as light as possible.  Eating a huge meal right before a running race would focus all the body’s energy into converting that food into energy, and not running a race.  I don’t know why I did this.

The race started right after lunch, and when I got to the finish line I felt fine.  I was nervous but feeling good.  When the starting gun went off I got into my groove, passing people as we would our way around campus, up the hill, and down the back part of the course.  I was doing fine until the last hill, the last part of the course.  I started to get a cramp on my right side, then my left.  It got more intense with every step I took.  I could see the first place girl right in front of me, within striking distance, and I could not muster the energy to chase her down.  There wasn’t enough distance left or energy left in me to catch her.  In the end I came in second place by three seconds.

When the race rolled around the following year I still didn’t win first place – I think I came in third or fourth.  I don’t know what happened.  I didn’t make the mistake of eating a big lunch like last year so I was pretty certain I would win.  I passed the girl who won last year towards the start of the race so I thought I had it, but I didn’t count on another girl being so far out front that I didn’t see her, and on another girl passing me towards the finish.  It was a travesty.  Thanksgiving races were ruined for me after that.

*****

Last week I decided to give Thanksgiving racing another chance when I ran the Xterra Turkey Trot at Topanga State Park.  I hadn’t been running as many miles as I should but I was doing well in my weekly track workouts.  I hoped to finish in the top three in my age division.

Even a turkey came out to race on Thanksgiving

The race was more competitive than the last trail race I ran back in September.  I could tell from the number of people that were there that morning and the fact that the race was sold out but I was determined to do well.  So much of running is mental; you can easily lose a race by talking yourself out of it, by telling yourself that person in front of you is too far to catch, by giving in to the little aches and pains of running.  The first half of the course was tough – uphill for three miles – but the second half was downhill and flat.  I knew that if I got through the ascent, a long slog along the hillside, that I would be able to pick up the pace on the downhill.  Or so I thought.

See the little specks on the ridge?  That’s us!

It turns out my problem is the downhill.  Running downhill gives me side aches, and makes me run slower than I should.  Running downhill means I bounce more, shaking my insides and giving me pain.  I had to stop twice during the race: once because the side pain traveled to my diaphragm and it became hard to breathe (I hate when this happens) and once because I hoped I could walk away the pain.  I got a bit discouraged with two miles to go after a woman passed me on the downhill, the one that keep saying “good job!” to everyone that passed her up the hill.  (I find it very annoying when people do things like this during a race.  If they have enough energy to congratulate people that pass them then obviously they are not working hard enough, and I’ll be damned if they beat me.)  I was still in the game, though, and got a second wind once I hit the single track part of the trail.

I love running downhill on single track dirt trails.  To me it’s like riding a roller coaster, with lots of twists and turns.  On a single track trail there are so many obstacles – low tree branch, rocks, hairpin curve – that I concentrated on avoiding them instead of the pain in my side.  Single tracks are so much fun.

*****

I finished the race as the 9^th female overall, and second in my age division. I have a theory that my age division (30-34) is the easiest one because women my age are either busy having kids or busy working.  I have a feeling that women in the age divisions next to mine (25-29 and 35-40) will kick my butt, so I am striking while the iron is hot.

I didn’t realize until recently how much better it is to be 31 than 21.

Everyone worries about getting older, especially those milestone years: 20, 30, 40, 50.  I was especially concerned about turning 30 once I hit 28, and I obsessed about it for the two years leading up to it.  Have I accomplished everything I should accomplish in my career, in life?  How do I measure up to my peers?  What’s the next step?

Now that I’m over that hump I’m less worried about achieving and more about doing.  Living in the moment and seizing the day are what I focus on now.

*****

I took the day off last Friday to spend the day with my Rene and our brood, Chuy and Sadie.   Sadie and I have the same birthday, so it was fitting that we visited the dog park in the morning, where we met this handsome fellow named Ozzy:

I just love a fat Bulldog, don’t you?  Especially one whose birthday also happened to be November 20.  What are the odds of two bulldogs having the same birthday as me?

In the evening Rene and I had dinner at Houston’s and brought Sadie a birthday treat:

The next day I had lunch with my family.  There were so many of us at that restaurant:

It was fun seeing them all and celebrating another year with them.  It’s moments like these when I realize that so many people care about me and how lucky I am to have them.

Those are the top two reasons why this blog hasn’t been updated in a while.  It’s like abandoned property – I’m sure if it were an actual property the grass would be five feet tall and the roof looks like it’s going cave in at any moment.  That’s how I feel right now: a little exhausted and out-of-sorts.  Besides, my two readers already have the 411 on me.

So… what’s been going on?  LOTS.  So much that I’ve been reduced to status message updates on Facebook.  Since the Malibu triathlon I’ve run a trail race (in which I came in first, thankyouverymuch!) and another triathlon (in which I came in second in my division, what up).  And last night I went to a concert during a school night.  Yowza.

This weekend I’m planning to catch up with this old blog.  That’s assuming my computer lives to fight another day.

All summer long I’ve had a one-track mind.  All I could think about, talk about, and write about was one thing: it starts with a T, has three parts, and had me scrambling to find time for training.  It’s T for Triathlon!  Back in March I signed up for the Malibu Triathlon at the urging of my boss (some would even call it peer pressure) and have been obsessing about it ever since.

Now that it’s over I don’t know what to do with myself.

***

I was nervous about the Malibu Triathlon ever since I signed up for it.  You could even say I was sick about it.  The run and the bike parts were easy enough, but the swim?  I didn’t even know how to swim.  Sure, I could float on my back and even backstroke, but I never learned how to swim freestyle.  Here’s the kicker: I didn’t start training until late May, and I thought I could master the freestyle in three months in time for the triathlon.  (Examples of my swimming angst chronicled here and here.) Little did I know how much work it would take to get there, how many fears I had to get over to make it to the other side.  First I got over my fear of swimming in the pool, then swimming in open water.  The other parts came together flawlessly, and before I knew it, it was race day.

Team huddle

Swim start: Wave 1

Transition from swim to bike (T1)

Transition from bike to run (T2)

Sprint to the finish

My cheerleaders

I learned a lot about myself these past couple of months, not just what my body could endure but what my spirit could overcome.  Looking back, the journey was what I enjoyed, and now that I am finished with my goal I feel a little sad that it’s over.

***

I’ve spent every Sunday of the last three months training at Zuma beach.  At first the focus was on biking, then running and swimming were eventually phased in.  About two months before the triathlon we were doing swimming, biking, and running the course.  This made the course that much easier for me – on the day of the race it was just like any Sunday morning.  Well, except for the 3 a.m. wake-up call and the spectators.  And of course, except for the celebrities.

I don’t know if you’re aware but the Malibu Triathlon is a magnet for celebrities.  It’s only fitting because of its proximity to the tony enclaves of Malibu and Pacific Palisades, and to Hollywood in general.  Past finishers include Jennifer Lopez, Matthew McConaughey, David Duchovny, and Jon Cryer (who shall always be Duckie to me).  This year there was no J. Lo or Matthew but there was The Hoff, Teri Hatcher, Felicity Huffman, William H. Macy, and Mario Lopez.  A.C. Slater y’all!!  I am a Saved by the Bell fan, so when I heard he was doing the triathlon I secretly hoped that he would still be around when I crossed the finish line.  (The thing about big triathlons like Malibu is they start the swim portion in waves, with the men going first by age group, then women by age group).  There’s usually a five or six minute gap between waves, so by the time they got to me Slater had already finished his swim and was already on his bike.  I didn’t even get to see him in person; luckily some of my friends had their camera handy and got me these shots:

After the results came out the following day, it became apparent to me that the best thing about competing in the same triathlon as A.C. Slater is kicking his ass in every single event:

I finished in 1:57.15 – I can’t help but feel a little smug that I would beat someone as buff as Mario Lopez.  I keep thinking of things A.C. Slater would say and all I could come up with is, “Maybe next year, Preppie!”

***

It’s been a little over a week and I miss the Tri team from work.  Some of them are training for upcoming triathlons, and some of them are taking a break from the madness.  It warms my heart thinking about all those Sundays when I’d spend time getting to know these cool people.

I did the best that I could at Malibu – I poured everything, every last molecule of energy – out of my body into the race.  As I pore over the results of the race I can’t help thinking about how to cut minutes from my time.  What if I swam faster?  What if I biked harder?  What if I ran smarter?  What if, what if, what if.  I’m beginning to think that I’m forming an addiction to triathlons.  Send help!

If someone told I’d be competing in a triathlon a year ago, I would’ve told them they were nuts.  A year ago I was out of shape, a little heavier, and had no plans to incorporate any sort of workout in my life.

Then in January my friend Cici convinced me to run the  Ragnar Relay, and suddenly I found myself working out more often, trying new things, and kicking ass.  I was – dare I say it? – looking forward to working out.  The more I ran the better I felt, and the better I felt the more I ran.  What an awesome cycle.  As time went by my race times got faster, and the type of races I participated in become more varied – first a regular 5K, then a 7-mile race, then an 18 mile race ran over the course of 24 hours.  A few weeks ago I participated in an aquathon, and last Sunday I completed my first triathlon.   I never thought I’d ever complete a triathlon, now here I am.

*****

For my first triathlon I had quite an entourage.  My parents, along with brother-in-law, Henry, my sister-in-law, Angela, and my niece, Vivian came to cheer for Rene and I.  I’ve never had family come to any sporting event I’ve competed in – not in high school, and not in college.  In a way my parents are making up for some lost time, and it felt so great to have them support me.  It was nice to see huge signs with my name on it:

My niece Vivi kissing Rene before the race

Our own cheering section

Mom

Dad

The race wasn’t bad at all – it was like our usual Sunday workout at Malibu, except that we got up at the crack of dawn to set up our transition area.  For once I brought everything with me, and for once I wasn’t nervous about the swim.  As you can probably tell from my previous posts my worst event in the trifecta is the swim: I have issues swimming in open water, and I am a newbie in the water.    The race organizers had people start in waves, and by time my group got into the water the first wave of people were already starting their run.  As a matter of fact, I saw Rene start his run as I was heading to the swim to bike transition.

Again, my swim was less than ideal.  There was a lot of traffic at the start, and I had to stop several times to figure out where I was, and where I was going.  Whenever I feel nervous I switch from freestyle to backstroke, and during that race I was doing quite a bit of backstroke.  At some point it will be freestyle all the way – I am confident that it is just a matter of time.

Me, at the lower left, coming out of the water

Looking for my bike in the  transition area

I did much better with the bike.  Of the three events I like this one the best, not because I’m great at it, but because it’s nice to sit down and not have to struggle so much (like I do in the water).  The bike was only 11 miles, mostly flat with a few inclines.  The course goes through the top of Hansen Dam, and the view is terrific.  On the left side is a golf course, and on the right side the park and aquatic center.  I was almost sad to relinquish the bike and start my run:

The run is my strongest event, and on Sunday I was feeling good – good enough to run three miles at 7:07 pace, and good enough to catch lots of ladies who kicked my butt in the swim:

My goal was to finish the race, and I was pleasantly surprised to have done well at the bike and run.  I celebrated with my parents at the finish line and had breakfast afterwards.  After doing all that it wasn’t even lunch yet.

(More pictures here.)

Not me!

(Actually, let me qualify that: I am still a little nervous about swimming in open water but I’m no longer scared.  Case in point: I participated in an aquathon last week – a race with an 800M ocean swim, followed by a 5K run – and lived to tell the tale.)

You see, I only learned to swim properly about three months ago.  I understood the mechanics of swimming  -  use arms like oars, kick, float, and don’t forget to breathe! -  but didn’t know how to put these elements together, chief among them how to breathe while my head was in the water.  To swim freestyle properly, you must face down (as if looking for something in the water, as my swim coach likes to remind me from time to time) and breathe by tilting your head to the side.  You cannot swim freestyle correctly if your head is out of the water at all times.  That method of swimming is called the doggie paddle, and it is tiring.  That’s exactly how I used to swim, complete with tongue hanging out by the time I got to the other side of the pool.  It was quite embarrassing showing those moves to the swim instructor three months ago.

Fast forward to a week ago – Rene and I both had the day off and heard about this race from a friend of ours.  We drove up to Ventura Harbor, about an hour north, so Rene could participate.  I was there to serve as cheerleader but ended up signing up for the race as well.  It was a big step for someone terrified of swimming in a pool only three months ago, and who just had a panic attack at the ocean a month ago.  I had to get over this fear of open water, and what better a way to accomplish that than go out there and just do it?  I carefully considered the positives:

1.  There would be lots of people out there with me, which included Rene, our friend Paul, and several lifeguards to make sure I didn’t drift out to sea.

2.  It would be great practice for the Malibu triathlon I signed up for in September – practice NOT FREAKING THE HELL OUT in open water, that is.

3.  I’ll learn what the start is like, with people jockeying for position and getting hit/dunked/kicked (accidentally or on purpose – it’s hard to tell).  I tried to stay in back of the crowd to minimize this, but it still happened.

4.  Once I finish the race, (no matter how long it takes or what place I come in) it will be the most rewarding activity I’ve undertaken in a while.  This is me coming in dead last (note the buoy brought to shore) but also note the lifeguard cheering me on as I made my exit:

5.  I can practice the transition from swim to run.

6. I’ll feel like a Badass!! after I finish the race.

Badass!!

I felt so great after finishing that race.  It was one of the hardest things I’ve ever done, both physically and mentally.  When I first got out of the water I had a tough time breathing, and it was difficult for me to transition from swimming to running.  I had to stop and walk a few times during the run to catch my breath.  Sometimes you can take yourself out of a race just by convincing yourself that you’re too tired or too weak to go on, but I resisted that notion and kept going.  The more I ran, the better I felt, and by the time I shuffled my way to the finish I caught quite a few people who passed me on the swim. As always, it felt AWESOME crossing that finish line.

(More pictures here.)

For the past two years my friend Erin has asked me to go to Kern River. The first year there was a scheduling conflict, and the second year we signed up too late. She looks forward to this river trip all year long – in fact, she RAVES about it – and this year I finally took her up on her offer.

The trip is very simple – you camp out on the banks of the Kern River in Bakersfield and spend the next day floating down the river in a rubber tube, swilling beer and singing classic rock. (At least that’s what we did.) The cost of the trip includes a bus that takes people upstream, and everyone takes their time floating down the river, back to the campsite.

My first trip down the river was a little bit frustrating. I didn’t understand how to maneuver my rubber float so I had trouble staying in the middle of the river:

And had problems getting out of people’s way. Fortunately these people were nice:

I got the hang of it towards the end, finally figuring out which direction to go and how to move my arms. I was so comfortable, in fact, that in my second trip down the river I decided to tackle the rapids. I was told that these rapids weren’t that bad, and are nothing compared to the time I went river rafting in Fresno a few months ago. Still, I was a little nervous because I didn’t want to be the one who fell into the river.

And it turns out… I did fine. I stayed in my rubber tube the whole time, and the one person who did fall managed to cling to my tube for safety. So not only did I not fall but I helped out the person who needed rescuing. Gold star for me.

Since we were further upstream the second time, we used that part of the day to discuss who was better – The Beatles or The Rolling Stones? (My vote was Beatles – come on, who doesn’t love Beatles songs?!) To prove my point I belted out my favorite Beatles tunes. Erin’s husband Jeff also shared his favorites, and we floated down the river singing our favorite songs, not just from the Beatles catalog. We sang all genres, from rock-and-roll to hip hop. It was a lot of fun, especially while swigging cans of beers.

We got to camp about two hours later, and by that time it was was time for Happy Hour. The people who organized the trip provide all meals and drinks, including booze. For Happy Hour we drank wine and ate cheese, crackers, and fruit. The whole group gathered around in a circle and talked, and some people played games.

This is Rene beating a girl:

And this is Rene getting beat:

For dinner we had tri-trip and salad, a perfect meal after spending a day at the river. We were so tired from the activity and the heat that we were in bed by 10 pm that night, and got up early the next day to make our way back home.

We had so much fun on this trip – we will definitely be signing up again next year!