A Long Distance Southern Cycle, in Photos; or, What Motivates YOU to Exercise?

Every Friday I head out on my bike to explore the South.

Some days I go to the beach and cruise close enough to the ocean to taste the salt on my tongue.

Other days I head to the country. I love taking the back roads. There is something about being away from people and in the middle of the country that makes me fall in love with cycling over and over again.

I never dread exercise, but I think that’s because my mindset isn’t that I have to go the fastest or the farthest; it’s that I can get out there and be a part of something bigger than me. To me, that is living life. To me, that is when you really experience all there is out there.

Of course, that could also be my excuse for never pushing myself to the extreme. Could I get down to an 8 minute mile while running? Possibly. A 20 mph speed on my bike? I guess it’s probable. Are those my goals? Not really. I find when I push myself too hard, I forget to stop and enjoy the ride (or run!) and find myself dreading the journey.

Someone once said Life isn’t about the destination, it’s about the journey, and for me that goes for exercise, too. Crossing a finish line is extraordinary, don’t get me wrong; but if I don’t enjoy the miles that comes before that yellow tape, I’m not likely to do it again.

So while I can’t package the scents of jasmine and fresh air and the sea, I can take along my camera and snap photographs along the way. (And yes, this does slow me down, I know! But, it’s so much fun.)

Here, a pictorial of my last long cycle through the south in the springtime. (Click on the photos for a larger, clearer view!)

This bridge begins my ride. Some days, blue herons sit on the bank.

I always stop here for a minute and watch the horses. Yes, not good when watching my pace, but who the heck cares?! They are beautiful!

LOVE this two lane back country southern road! Especially the little auto shop, which is really a shack, with a junk yard in the back, and the trailer, which seems to be plopped down in the middle of a field where someone has decided to live. I always wonder about those people.

Only in the south can you get guns AND shrimp at the same time!

View coming in. Some days the water is high, and some days it’s not there at all. When it’s gone, the racoons play in the mud.

Final ride, about 12 1/2 miles of quiet country streets.

What motivates YOU?

 

 

 

Changing A Back Flat Tire on Your Bike: Success!

So I fixed my first flat tire yesterday.

A second grader told me it was real easy, and he gave me step by step instructions that included things like

  • get a screwdriver
  • take off the tire
  • put on the new tube
  • pump it up

Super easy, he said with a shrug. He does it all the time.

I considered hiring him for the job, but I thought:

  1. That would be strange, and
  2. I really need to learn to do this on my own

So I gathered together my requisite ‘tire changing items’

And my laptop, tuned to this video from Schwinn

I got everything set out in my driveway and turned on the video.

I watched it about fifteen times, attempting but failing to find the rear wheel release lever to get the back tire off.

I asked my Twitter friends for help, of course

Then I You Tubed another video, and, again, spent a few minutes attempting to figure out where the rear wheel release lever might be.

I was confused

Then my husband came home, and he looked.

He told me the bad news: My bike doesn’t have a rear wheel release lever. Then he got out this

And showed me how to get off the wheel.

Yay for hubby!

We deflated the tube, put on the new inner tube and got the tire back on the bike before realizing I’d purchased a tire with a presta valve. And, of course, we didn’t have an adapter.

Luckily, my neighbor did.

Today I took the bike for a spin and the tire held up, so apparently I did it right.

My suggestion to those of you learning to change a bike tire? First . . .

  1. Check first to see if your bike has a rear wheel release lever, which makes the process much easier. Plus, you don’t have to carry tools on your long rides, which is what I’m going to need to do now in case of a flat while I’m twelve miles out. And
  2. If you get a tube with a presta valve, purchase the $1 adapter so you can use your regular bike pump

Then, check out this video from Schwinn that shows how to change bike tires.

Running in Rome

We just got back from a wonderful trip to Rome. And I don’t mean Georgia.

Italy. Wow. What can I say? Beautiful accents, incredible sites and several nights of more than ten hours of sleep.

You see, once you have kids you don’t sleep more than a few hours at a time. Ever.

By the third day, my husband was afraid I was sick. I told him No, I just needed to catch up for not really sleeping much these past almost eight years.

While I didn’t run in Rome, I did snap pictures of a runner heading down the Tiber. So I was associated with working out even if I wasn’t technically working out. That counts, right? Look at what a beautiful run we I he had:

We did a lot of walking, so I counted that as my form of cardio for the five days.

But mostly I ate. Salami and cheese and tomatoes. A lot of tomatoes. Pasta. Pizza. Gelato.

Did I say I loved Italy? Just look at this smile on my face:

We saw all the traditional spots – Vatican, Forum, Colosseum – along with some great cafes and ristorantes and book stores off the beaten path. We drank a little vino (Italian, of course) and learned a few new Italian words.

I got into the culture so much I told my husband this summer when I’m home with the kids we’ll be learning Italian.

I threw a coin in Trevi Fountain, so we have to return. Knowing the language will come in handy.

The trip was great, and restorative, and it left me with a new perspective on life, because that’s what travel does: it shows you how big it all is, and how little it all is at the same time. And how much is still out there ready for me to explore. My creative juices began to flow. I thought of a new movie script to write, a new business idea, a few new article topics.

I thought about training, and where I want to go from here.

Which leads me toTri Time!

Once home, I got back on the workout wagon. I’ve done several runs and tomorrow I cycle. I have about six weeks until my first tri of the year and I think I’m ready. I could probably do the Olympic but I’m not making any decisions until I’m only a few weeks out. I’ve learned since having children and dealing with work and trying to accommodate, well, life and all that goes with it, that it’s best if I go with the flow and make plans not too far out in advance.

I have to start speed work, too. You know, later. First I’m going to eat some jelly beans. And think of Italy:

Colosseum

Trevi Fountain

 

What are your fitness goals for the next month?

 

My Biggest Running Cheerleader . . . Although He May Just Want to Race Me

I have a dog.

He’s a cute dog.

A crazy dog.

A dog with so much energy, I can’t run with him.

He wants to tear around the neighborhood at top speed. To run him, I have to leash him, get on my bike and let him drag me. And he will do this for over a mile, running as fast as his furry legs will carry him.

When I run, he sits in the dirt spot he’s made in the front yard, waiting. And waiting. And waiting. He sits for forty minutes on my 4 mile loop; 60 for my hour.

Some days I do shorter loops, and everytime I round the corner I spot him seated just where I left him. Waiting for me to come home.

If I’m continuing my run, he barks as I go past. I figure he’s cheering me on, shouting in dog language, “Go mommy! Run!”

Although it’s likely he’s saying, “Milk bone! Milk bone!”

When I finish up, he sprints around the yard at his top speed, around and around the track he’s created: through the bushes, around the garden and back again. Once, twice, three times, depending on how excited he is (which generally correlates to how long I’ve been gone).

He is my biggest cheerleader.

Although sometimes I wonder if he’s internally thinking, “I could smoke my mommy! See! Look how fast I can run!”

Maybe one day he can be my pacer.

But he has to drop back in speed a bit before I’ll take that one on.

Just look at my boy go!

In racing new I’ve decided to do my first tri of the season in May. I am planning to do a sprint size at the Jekyll Island Turtle Crawl. I have to get back in the pool, though the last time I experienced Raynauds and am hesitant to do it before the air temp moves up a bit. May try to get in a swim today; watching the thermometer, though.

What are you racing this season? And who’s your biggest cheerleader?

Heaven Seats Alive, My Bum Hurts!

 

I hopped on my bike today for a short ride. 9 miles, around the hood, and all went well until about halfway through. I had on my tri shorts and was riding my new Schwinn (which, by the way, I LOVE!) but about halfway through I felt a pang. And then another.

My backside is bony. You would never hear the song “Baby’s Got Back” and think of me.

And for whatever reason, today’s ride hurt it even more. In fact, I can still feel the imprint of my bike seat, and it’s been hours since I hopped off.

Which brings me to this . . . I need a new seat! But, having no real experience riding, I’m not sure what to get. Bigger seat, or stay small? Gel filled, or not? Buy shorts with more padding? But then, when I train for my tri, what do I wear? And when I do my tri, I will have on different shorts.

I’M SO CONFUSED!

Bikers, cyclers, all of you pedalers of all ages, please help a bony butt girl out! What should I look for in a seat?

In other news . . . looks like my first tri will be the Jekyll Turtle Crawl. Sprint or Olympic? Not sure yet. Much of that depends on how my health holds up. I’d like to do the Olympic, though, so I’m shooting for that.

Got my new Adidas in the mail yesterday and plan to use them for my treadmill run tomorrow.

For now, I’m going to ice my a$$ and hope someone out there has a good seat recommendation to ease the discomfort!

Triathlon Training: Fitting it All In

So, here’s the problem: I need about twenty more hours in my day.

Between work, which has moved from part to almost full time now that the girls are in school, and the girls, who have after school activities nearly everyday, I’m finding it tough to schedule workouts.

When I was running only, I could move my runs around in the week to accommodate everything. Now, though, I find it tough to do this. For instance, I can only swim in the afternoons due to swim classes at the gym, but our afternoons are crazy. If I move a run to another day, that’s going to mess up a cycle. If I skip a cycle, that means I have to pick it up on another day.

I don’t want to work out seven days a week. I know I can’t; I’ll burn out, and quickly. Instead, I need to figure a way to get all workouts in during a five to six day workout week.

I guess one of my problems is I hate to lose a running day. I love running four days; that’s when I feel best. I could move down to three days, but I hate to do this.

Which brings me to doubling up on workouts. I could do a run in the AM and a swim in the PM some days, but then I think I’m becoming a crazy obsessed workout person. Plus, I don’t always have the time to workout two times a day; in fact, I don’t always have the time to do one workout!

How do you set up a workout schedule? Do you allot certain days for certain activities? Do you workout more than oneĀ  time each day? Do you workout five, six, seven days a week? I’d love to hear feedback about triathlon training, now that we are moving into training season.

On another note, I had a fabulous cycle today. I rode the Schwinn about 45 minutes (Garmin died) through back country roads, and I enjoyed every second of it! I know I could go to the gym and get in some workouts, but there really is no substitute to fresh air, horses and, for the most part, silence!

Here’s a video from my ride:

 

Rest Day = Beautiful Day to Run. Would You Run Anyway?

 

I’ve turned into a stickler for running/workout schedules.

Too bad, because this was the perfect morning to run.

I was never this inflexible. I used to be the girl who would pack a suitcase and take off on a trip in less than an hour. Drop all plans to do something spontaneous. Lace up even if I had run four other days in a row just because it was the perfect day to run.

What happened?

I suppose part of this sticking to a running routine is a result of past overuse injuries, such as hamstring tendonitis a few years ago, which left me out of my running shoes for a month.

Part of this is due to training, too. When I trained only for running races, I could run on whatever day I wanted. I ran four or five days a week, but the days didn’t really matter as long as I fit in the run.

Now that I’ve added triathlon training, I need to squeeze in swimming and cycling, too. If I run on a day I should be doing something else, or on a rest day, then I either have to give up the bike or pool or double up on workouts; I don’t want to do the former, and I don’t have time to do the latter.

This morning I woke to a gorgeous running day. Blustery, windy, cool, misty. The PERFECT day for a run. But I’d run two days in a row, and I knew my muscles needed a rest. I considered a bike ride, but, again, wanted my hamstrings to have a cooling off day.

So I opted for indoor pilates and yoga instead.

It’s not that I don’t enjoy those two activities; I actually love them.

Still, there’s something about lacing up when it is a certain temperature, when there is a certain feel in the air, that I just can’t get from doing exercises inside.

Today is rest day. I stuck to it, although, I’ll admit, hesitantly.

Do you stick to your rest day schedule, or, if the perfect running day comes along, do you chuck the schedule out the window and, shall I say, run with it?

Birthdays Always Great Time for Reflection; and, Triathlon Training, Here I Come

This Saturday I’ll turn 30.

For the 12th year in a row.

It has gotten much easier, hitting that 3rd decade of my life. I’ve learned to take the milestone in stride. You realize, twelve years after, how much it really doesn’t matter. Life goes on. Things change. I’ve had a few kids, and we got a dog. We own a house rather than renting a cramped (but super cute) condo in Pasadena.

I’ve run two marathons. Completed a triathlon. Jogged endless 5Ks, 10Ks and halfs.

I’ve learned since turning thirty the first time to listen to my body if it is in pain. That doesn’t mean I accept it gracefully; I just listen more these days, and I take a break as needed.

I’ve learned it’s not so much the race but the participation in that matters. I could run through Florida or California, Georgia or Alabama, and it wouldn’t matter. What would matter would be that I enjoyed it. Soaked it all up. Got the medal at the finish line, regardless of my time.

I’ve learned PRs are cool, but that’s not all there is. I can be the slowest in the pack and enjoy it the most. That’s fine by me.

I’ve learned aging means understanding the difference between pushing through the pain and then not running for six weeks; or stopping, icing, resting and lacing back up in seven days.

I’ve learned to run just to run.

I’d say over the past 12 years of turning thirty, I’ve learned a hell of a lot!

That said, I started triathlon training this week. I figured out a schedule I believe will work while reducing the stress on my body that happened last year. I got back into the pool today, and all in all it was a good swim. 25 minutes, three laps at a time before a rest.

My only problem, and I know this is something I’ll need to deal with sooner rather than later – after swimming, I took the girls in, and because I wasn’t technically exercising, I experienced Raynauds. (Don’t know what that is? Fun little issue when your body temp drops and the blood stops circulating to your extremities.)This just started a few years ago, and only in my right pointer finger and right heel. This year it has moved a bit, and today it happened for the first time ever in my right thumb.

And I didn’t even feel that cold!

Pooey. Not sure what to do about this. I want to continue to swim, but it’s dangerous to allow it to happen often or for long periods of time. I certainly don’t want to give up swimming because of it.

Will I look like a total dork if I wear some type of gloves for warmth, so my fingers don’t turn white and then purple?

Yes, but turning 30 for 12 years has taught me I don’t give a crap how much of a dork I resemble, as long as I’m happy, safe and having a good time.

So guess I’ll be purchasing some gloves.

I hope I can run a few races and participate in a few triathlons this birthday year.

But I really hope that when I turn 30 next year, for the 13th year in a row, I can look back on this year and say how great it was!

First Triathlon Completed: Race Report from a New Addict

 

On Sunday I completed my first sprint triathlon, participating in the Club Med Series in Port Saint Lucie, Florida.

To say I was nervous is, well, not enough.

To say it was an incredible experience is, well, also not enough.

Per my posts last week, I was afraid of EVERYTHING: forgetting something, getting gnawed on by a gator, succumbing to heat stroke during the 5K.

I’m happy to report I beat the visious beasts AND heat and finished in 1:19 and some change. Not too shabby for my first time, though when I see people rolling in at 55 minutes it makes me feel kinda slow.

Pre-Race
So, the night before the tri I did not sleep at all! Well, I slept minimally, going to bed from 10-1 and then, from 1 until 3:30, waking every so often. At 3:38 I sprang awake, and from 4-4:45 I made myself deals: If I fall asleep by 4, I have an hour left; if I fall asleep by 4:15, I have 45 minutes; if I don’t fall asleep by 4:30, I’ll get up at 4:45.

I got up at 4:45, got ready, and left the house, arriving so early only a handful of racers were already there.

Race Day
When I got to the race, I headed toward the longest line and got marked – nothing like having my age, 41, imprinted on the back of my leg! I headed to the transition area and, not knowing how it worked, chose a nice spot close to the Bike Out sign. Then I had the brains to ask a lady standing nearby where we parked our bikes, and she gladly told me to put it in the space with my race number — which was, of course, printed all over my limbs!

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Gator Bait!

Last night, as I lay down to sleep thinking about how ridiculous I was being worrying a shark might get me in the river during my tri, I realized it’s not a shark I have to concern myself with but an alligator.

Yes! There are gators in the river, and I’m going to be swimming in it!

I had my list all made up of things I want to pack for this tri, including:

  • tri shorts
  • cute sports bra since I think I’m staying in it for the duration
  • hat
  • goggles for swim
  • shoes
  • socks
  • small container to rinse my feet
  • towel
  • bike
  • tire inflater
  • spare tube
  • tire levers

I was feeling good! Strong! Invincible! I can do this!

Then I remembered the gators.

So today I did some research. I googled “gators” “triathlon” and “Florida.”

I found an article about a triathlete who was practicing in the river when he got attacked by a gator.

Then I found another article about triathletes who refused to do a tri in middle Florida because there were gators in the river they were to swim. “It’s not worth it,” they said.

I concurred.

Then I called my mom. It’s always kind of fun to torment her, although, today, it was at my expense.

Me: Mom, do you know there are gators in the river I’m going to be swimming on Sunday?

Mom: Oh no! That’s not good! Is it mating season?

Me (after quickly googling “mating season” and “alligators”): No. Looks like mating season is earlier. Now it’s nesting season.

Mom: Oh no! Even worse! The females are very aggressive with their eggs!

Me: Oh no! Maybe I can just do that tri up in Jacksonville next month.

Mom, after a really, really long break, in which I’m assuming she downed some tequila or Valium or some other medication that will help calm her nerves since her daughter is going to go swim a tri in the middle of gator infested waters: Well, I just have one piece of advice.

Me: What?

Mom: Don’t be the slowest swimmer in the water.