Bay Swims, Double Bricks, and Karaoke!

Holy workouts, batman!! I have updates galore! Where to begin??
Well, I'm about 10 weeks into my road to 70.3 and feeling stronger than ever, with a long way to go....
I should preface this blog entry by introducing you all to Caddy (my brand spankin' new Cannondale Cadd10). When I purchased this pretty little gem, I told the cute bikespert (it can be a word...)  at Mike's Bikes that I may love this bike more than I'll love any man...Should I have said it out loud? Eh, maybe not...But I'm pretty sure I meant it. Check it out -

New wetsuit and bike all in one week? You heard right.

This past weekend was particularly productive. On Saturday we did a super fun swim in Aquatic Park (the water was a warm 60 degrees! Amazing!) followed by a hearty run along the Marina Green.  

Where's Waldo, you may wonder? Bottom left...

MASSIVE reminder to self: Bay swimming is NOT pool swimming. 

I completely lost track of my form and technique that I've worked so hard at in the pool! I plan to embark in the Bay tomorrow afternoon to get down with some serious open water swimming (and SIGHTING!). Wish me luck!

Saturday night the team let loose at a Karaoke Fundraiser. Here's the thing - if you know me, you know NOT to let me within proximity of a Karaoke Bar (key word being BAR). Before I knew it, I was rushing the stage yelling (not singing) Love Shack, Baby Got Back (adorned with just the right amount of ass shaking), ByeByeBye, and probably more...I think there was some Janis Joplin in the mix...and maybe some Spice Girls...It's shameful, really. And all was conveniently captured on video cameras and cell phones by amused (perhaps confused?) team members (all of which will likely NOT make this blog, sorry Mom). 

In any case, you can imagine my distaste (regret, pain, headache, nausea etc) when my alarm woke me up at 6:45am the next day in time for our SUNNY double brick in Woodside. I'm learning quickly (and more so with Team in Training than before) that Triathletes know how to rally. In fact, that's a KEY part of training (right?). So I caffeinated, geared up, and trekked down to the Peninsula for a beefy workout. 

Here I am with one of my many Karaoke-partners-in-crime rehashing the madness of the night before, and getting pumped to Bike-Run-Bike-Run (that's right...DOUBLE BRICK!).

Everything about this workout was awesome. I felt strong, refreshed and exhilarated the entire time (even through the hot and hilly trail run).  And...I'm still a bit sore. 

As with my training, I've made great strides in fundraising but I still have a long way to go. Because I know you just can't wait to donate to LLS in admiration of my hungover brick(s) of glory, I'm giving you this opportunity to visit my page and show your support. AND it's for an AMAZING cause. 

Last, but not least - GO TEAM!!

Cheers,

Renata

DONATE HERE!!!

Reality Check (otherwise known as Oh. Shit.)

Week Seven. And I have pre-race jitters (yes, already). I'm afraid to count down the days until the big race - mostly out of fear that there is less time left to train than I can bear to face. You see, I'm a worrier (in my last post, I poked fun at my parents for worrying sick...and in this one, I resent them for passing such tendencies onto their offspring). In fact, my biggest concern upon signing up for this behemoth triathlon was that the self-sabotaging self talk would drag me down more than any hill, head wind, or distance. And alas - here I sit, icing my shins and imagining the most dire scenarios that could happen come race day. 


Here's a snippet- 

* I'll drown. Oh, for sure I'll drown. Woosah. Positive thoughts - that wet suit will totally keep me afloat. And there will be kayaks out there to pull me out of the water in case a sea lion attacks me. There are sharks in Santa Cruz aren't there?? Oh my god, a shark is going to think I'm a sea lion. Freaking wet suit...I'm training to get eaten alive. FAN-TASTIC. 

* Okay, so IF I survive my shark attack, I'll have to get on my bike. And pedal. For 56 miles. Maybe I should break it up into bits - if I make it to mile 26, that's only 30 to go. 30. thirty. THIRTY. Wait, not thirty. FIFTY-SIX. That didn't work.

* So I've survived my shark attack, AND manage not to pass out by mile 26 of the bike leg...I only have 13.44 miles to run. No big thing. Running isn't too bad. Just zone out and do it.  Hopefully my body and brain will be too tired to even realize I'm running. That's the idea, right? This is hilarious - FUNNY. Not scary. It won't be funny on race day, but I can laugh for now...

And yet, despite all that I've mentioned above and despite all of the stress and soreness that this triathlon has already imposed upon my life, I am still overwhelmed with the warm and fuzzy goodness of everything I've accomplished thus far:

* I've raised over $1,000 to benefit Leukemia Lymphoma Society! And I have $4,000 more to go. Yowza. You can help me hit my goal, you know. I can sense that you're just itching to donate. I'll make it easy for you - EARN KARMA POINTS HERE!

* Sometimes running feels like flying. For about a split second every time - so worth it. AND I've been running hills! This is a big deal because as you may know and/or imagine, hill seriously suck. 

* Swimming is kind of fun! Something about crawling and pushing through water, getting in a rhythm, 'perfecting' breathing patterns - it's so wonderfully empowering. With that said, I'm no stellar swimmer...but like I said, it's kind of fun!

* Biking keeps me sane. If you live in the Bay Area, get a bike. It's just so breathtakingly beautiful around here. The hills hurt like hell, and I have yet to reach the 50 mile mark, but I can't tell you how amazing burritos taste after a long bike ride. 

And most importantly, there's just undeniable awesomeness that even the worst pre-pre race jitters can't defeat. The TEAM - amazing peeps. The COACHES - kick serious ass. The honorees - those who have survived and those who have lost their battles. The most painful moments of triathlon truly pale in comparison to their battles. ALL OF YOU - I can't describe the power of your support and the power of your generosity.

Please continue to show your support and donate through my fundraising page. So many of you have shared your personal connections with Leukemia and/or Lymphoma. It feels great to give. 


And now, for your viewing pleasure:

This is the gauntlet. In this "drill," we're coached to abuse our teammates as much as possible (throwing kickboards- fair game) in effort to simulate triathlon swim start. It is awesome.

My beautiful team. All sorts of awesome - gathering in support of Zach. He's a fourth grade student of one of my teammates and has battled cancer. Zach is a strong kid and I can't wait to meet him soon. Sending him much love and strength.

Bike ride to awesome (Point Reyes). 

Some pre-sand ladder stretches

Thanks for reading. More to come. 

Goodnight,

Renata

Transitions

So much of triathlon-ing is about transitioning. And I don't just mean that clumsy rush from swim --> bike --> run (but more on that in another entry). Simply opening your schedule (and your mind and your sore muscles) to swim and/or bike and/or run every single day (okay 6 days a week, but that 7th day of yoga is WELL earned) is entirely life changing. Leaving work by 6pm (knowing that I'm doing so to push my body to various - depending on the week - levels of pain) is no easy task.

So far, just  two weeks into this ride, I am feeling INCREDIBLE. I'm feeling like myself again...battling hills on the bike, swimming just one more set of 100's and running a teensy bit faster than the time before! I'm not sure where I inherited my ever-yearning taste for adrenaline and competition...In fact,  my folks are back to biting their nails off every Saturday and Sunday morning waiting for my call to let them know I'm still alive. It goes a little something like this -
"Hey Mom," I'll say. "Oh thank God, are you okay?" she'll gasp (putting me on speaker phone so my dad can listen in as well). "I'm fantastic!!" I respond. "No, you're crazy," Dad chimes in, "Okay we gotta go" they say relieved. CLICK. "Alright see ya," I say to the dial tone.

After this, I assume they breathe again and resume their weekend...until the next time. If I don't call them by 2pm, I fully anticipate a search and rescue squad hunting me down as I replenish electrolytes and inhale burrito(s). When I told my mother, I was doing the Big Kahuna Half Ironman, she choked back tears and said, "Please...don't...Please...no," as if I had just committed to embark on the Bin Laden manhunt.  I tease them, but in all honesty, I'm so lucky to have the most supportive family a girl can ask for! Despite their fear that I'll get swallowed alive by a seal, or fly off my bike when I'm charging down a hill, or fall in a manhole while running on Crissy Field, I've grown to count on and appreciate their endless support. I know they'll be holding their breath for 7 hours out in Santa Cruz while I'm racing (and for this I apologize to them in advance...).

Beyond that, I'm so humbled and grateful to those of you who have contributed to my fundraising efforts. I couldn't have possibly imagined how amazing it'd feel to get that "donation notification." Most people who've contributed to the cause have been touched on a very personal level to Leukemia or Lymphoma. It's hard to stomach how many people have suffered or lost a loved one to a strain of blood cancer. I'll be sure to honor everyone that my friends and family have acknowledged through their donations on my fundraising page (all of whom are some of the strongest people I know). To those of you who haven't contributed yet (and YOU KNOW WHO YOU ARE), I encourage you to visit my page and contribute to the Leukemia and Lymphoma Society in any way feasible. Find out if  your company matches and turn that $25 contribution into $50!

ANYWAY, I made the right decision in joining Team in Training. Here's why - the PEOPLE. Woah. Every single person I've met on the team thus far is freaking awesome. And when 50 (ish?) people group together to swim - it's a SEA of awesome (okay a pool for now...). I thoroughly look forward to building lasting friendships as we all support each other in reaching our personal triathlon goals.

Y'all are amazing for reading my blogs. Want to be SUPER DUPER AWESOME? Click HERE!

Until next time.

Love,
Renata

Let's do this thing.

Hi, I'm Renata. And I have lost my mind (ish). I'm on the brink of a long and painful and exciting and insane journey of readying my body to endure 1.2 miles of ocean swimming, 56 miles of cycling, topped off with 13.1 miles of running. And here's the thing, I would never in a bazillion years think that I could be physically capable of such an absurd amount of movement. I mean, that's at least 7 hours of constant exercise. Eesh. There is, however, some "logic" to my madness - I have competed in two triathlons - one sprint and one Olympic. Both experiences were so unbelievably self-fulfilling, and therein a somewhat selfish thing to do (in an amazing way!). For this triathlon season, I've decided to raise my karma points (and hopefully yours too) and send some positive energy into the universe. Nothing about 70.3 miles of consistent exercise and four months of training sounds appealing (okay, it sounds pretty bad-ass, but requires a serious dose of motivation that I will need to summon from the depths of my soul). In fact, I'm a little tired right now and that sounds hard. I plan to surrender my nights of boozing on the town for early morning training sessions. I plan to swim, bike, run, sweat, hydrate and (likely) eat more than I ever have in my life! And with this I ask that you support the Leukemia & Lymphoma Society for each mile that I race. 
If you're a triathlete, you're probably thinking to yourself - Are you really going to join that sea of purple? To you, I say YES! And proudly so. Having worked my ass off (quite literally) to endure an olympic distance triathlon, I cheered on the TNT athletes with supreme admiration. Training for an endurance event is hard enough -- dedicating the energy to gather donations is another feat in itself! 
Yesterday I met Myland, a sweet, beautiful and young blood cancer survivor. Her beauty and grace absolutely moved me.
To my absolute delight, I received this message from Myland -  
I want to personally THANK YOU for joining the fight against blood cancers. As a team honoree, I am one of those teammates who can say I am alive today because of the research and development of new therapies made possible by people like you fundraising for The Leukemia & Lymphoma Society. My life dramatically changed in July 2006 when I was diagnosed with acute lymphocytic leukemia (ALL). I endured debilitating chemotherapy and radiation treatments while waiting for a suitably matched donor for a lifesaving bone marrow transplant, my only hope for survival.
I cannot wait to get to know Myland better, connect with other cancer survivors, and race and train in honor of those who lost their battles.  Please make a donation. Those Karma points work WONDERS.


Much love,
Renata