Rained Out

Margaret and I dutifully donned our cycling gear in preparation for the Sunday Ride today. She wore her new leg warmers and I sported my new cycling tights.

Margaret had warned me about potential rain, and I glibly told her that I could deal with light drizzling if it was similar to the weather on Friday. When I arrived at her house to pick her up that day, the ground was wet and the sky was grey, but no other indications of rain. Not yet. I thought we were safe.

As we drove down the Burlingame, we noticed the sky darken. Little droplets started falling on my windshields at first, then a steadier stream of water started coming down. By the time we arrived at Summit Bicycles, it was undeniably raining.

I think Margaret would have been willing to brave the elements had I not been so chicken and talked her out of it. I couldn't deal. We hung at out Starbucks briefly before ducking into Summit Bicycles to tell Lorri that, "I [Lauren] don't do rain". I think most other Velo Girls had the same thought because only two other ladies showed up: Yvonne and Heather. I don't recall what Heather ended up doing but I don't think Yvonne rode that day because photos of her at the cyclocross race that day :-)

Undeterred, other possibilities for working out that day raced through our heads. Stonestown had an indoor cycling class at 8:30AM but we had missed that. 10:15AM Bodyworks at Presidio Y? Definite possibliity. Then it stuck me: INDOOR CYCLING AT PRESIDIO Y!!

The indoor cycling class started at 10:15AM. It filled up quickly, probably by other cyclists who were also rained out. The instructor had just finished teaching the previous cycling class. She would have taught this one on the bike as well if a participant hadn't gone up to her and asked whether there were any more bikes available.

Class was taught in the poorly ventilated gym with a basketball game on the other side of the partition. I couldn't hear the instructor due to the accoustics: she sounded like Charlie Brown's teacher most of the time. It was sweltering hot in my cycling tights. Margaret easily shed layers just by rolling down her leg warmers. Smart.

Class was okay. I felt we did too much climbing. Every song/interval seemed to consist of hills, hills and more hills. A tad too repetitive for my tastes. The only variation was the length of each climb and the imagined slope. She did one interesting exercise I hadn't see before: "20/20" (20 seconds intense sprinting, 20 seconds recovery). Another one was a 16-count repetitive move which consisted of 4-count hovering, 4-count in position 3, 4-count hovering, 4-count seated, repeat. I ended up bouncing around in my seat for the first half of the song because I originally thought we were only supposed to do 4-count hovering followed by 4-count seated, repeat. At one point, we reduced each 4-count move to 2 counts. Margaret & I think this may be contraindicated. It was hard enough to doing the moves to 4-counts in a controlled manner; the 2-count stuff was just too fast.

I'm very pleased that we fit in a cycling workout even though it was raining. This will be a great alternative if we ever encounter bad weather again. I hope the skies will be clear for our ride next Sunday.

Thanksgiving Day Workout

I taught a cardio kickboxing segment as part of a volunteer aerobics class today at the Sequoia YMCA along with Karen (warm up), Julie (hi lo) and Inge (sculpting). It was fun! 1-1/2 hours of non-stop excitement. Over 20 participants showed up, all eager to earn their turkey dinner.

Two Hour Spinning Class

It's been four months since I've attended one of Dino's indoor cycling classes. I called El Camino Y to make sure that he was teaching that night. I was told that not only was class still on, but Dino was making it a TWO HOUR SPECIAL!

Completely insane, I know, but why the heck not? As I was setting up my bike, a guy next to me asked Dino whether class was really going to be two hours long. Yes, but it was going to be : 1-1/2 hours spinning, 10 minutes cool down, 10 minutes stretching and 10 minutes abs.

Dino played primarily dance music. My favorite! I could tell that he put a lot of thought into class structure because he had organized songs around endurance, sprints, intervals, and jumps (seated & standing). I was familiar with his cueing for hand positions and intensity levels so that worked well. Dino would tell us what rpm we should aim for (we did a 15 second count). When I got tired and felt myself slowing down, I would look up and try to match my leg speed with his. He also gave us form pointers throughout the workout:

• Relax the shoulders
• Upper body is quiet
• Don't bounce side-to-side
• Slight bend in the elbows
• Keep knees straight
• Keep wrists straight
• Light pressure on the handlebars (no death grip or excess pressure on the hands)

Class was awesome. For once, I didn't have a sore butt at all! I think it's because I made a special effort to sit properly in the saddle: I kept on reminding myself to hinge from the hips and not hunch over and bend my upper back. As a result, I pushed my rear backwards so I sat on my sit bones and thus didn't squish my soft tissue. If you're somebody who doesn't cycle because it hurts - try it out!

Castle Rock Trail Run

It was a chilly 35F this morning. A perfect day for sleeping in under toasty warm blankets. So what do D & I do? We wake up at 6:45AM in the morning to drive down to Saratoga to do the Castle Rock Trail Run hosted by RedwoodTrails.com.

This is by far the most ambitious run I've ever done. I'm an old hand at 10K (6.2 miles), and aspire to run a road marathon (26.2 miles) and a trail half marathin (13.1 miles) at some point. I've done two 7-mile trail runs, and wanted to try something slightly longer, but not too ambitious. Castle Rock sounded perfect - 10 miles of gorgeous scenery:

You'll literally run on the edge of the highest ridge of the Santa Cruz mountains with the valley floor a distant three thousand feet below and 30 mile views to the Pacific Ocean. If not arguably the best single track trail system in the Bay Area, then absolutely the most unique.

The run has a bit of "true" mountaineering; requiring the use of guide cables bolted into the rock for traversing a narrow, rocky, yet flat section. Not quite, as dramatic as the last few feet of climbing Half Dome, it's more on par with Tahoe's Flume Trail, without the four hour drive.

While there are parts of the run that require some strategy, overall this not a highly technical route. Pass within inches of a 80 foot waterfall; race through Oak, Madrone and Redwood forests, and touch Goat Rock, the parks's favorite location for rock climbing. And the best part is you get to run high above the fog without doing any major climbing.

I had very low expectations for this race, largely because I had not run in the last two weeks. I knew it was going to be particularly interesting because I have never run 10 miles before, let alone 10 miles on trails. I was so worried about the elevation involved, that I emailed the organizer to ask how much there would be. This was his response:

"Castle Rock looses and then gains 400 ft. three times. While the elevation gain makes it a 'relatively' easy run. It is not however a extremely fast course. There are many sharp turns and rocky sections that require detailed foot work and simple cannot be run at full speed and live to tell about it."

400 ft. didn't sound so bad, but THREE TIMES? 1,200 ft was going to be stretch.

I wore long cotton pants, an aerobics halter top and a long sleeved cycling hoodie. I was dressed appropriately for the run itself which meant that I didn't have enough clothing on for loitering around the race start. D noticed I was shivering and pointed me in the direction of the pots of boiling water at registration and the hot chocolate mixes.

Before the beginning of the race, Eric gave away some prizes: five gift certificates valued at $90 each for purchasing trail running shoes. We had to answer some questions correctly to win the prizes. The only one that mattered to me was the one where we had to guess the official length of the race. Remember I said it was 10 miles? It's longer. 10.75 miles.

The race started on a single track trail. It took a few minutes for us to squeeze through and start running. As part of race strategy, Eric advised us not to try and pass people on the narrow trail, but rather wait about 200 feet after the second bridge where the road widened.

My lungs were okay, but my extremities were frigid, especially my hands. I pulled my sleeves down to cover my icy fingers but it didn't work as well as I hoped. I sure could have used gloves. I jogged at an easy pace and started climbing the inclines. They weren't steep, but seemed to go up indefinitely. It was like Chinese water torture: long, gradual & painful ascents. I am embarrassed to say that I walked for about 50 meters in that initial segment and I hadn't even reached the 1 mile mark yet. Heck, I wasn't sure I had even reached the 0.5 mile mark. It didn't help that the waist band on my pants were loose and they kept on sliding down.

We had to cross a 20 foot road at the top of the first part of the run. Traffic was monitored by a big burly man who prevented us from dashing across if there were cars coming by. I waved hello, crossed the road, and saw the first aid station. Yay! I didn't need to stop because I had my Camelpak but was happy to see it nonetheless because it meant I had run all of 1.6 miles. It was also at that point that we could drop off any excess clothing or gear and pick it on the return part of the run.

The next part consisted of running downhill. I like running downhill but there was a nagging voice at the back of my head that reminded me I would have to run up this portion on the way back. Rats. Before long, I reached the second aid station at around mile 3 -- the same location as the only official bathroom on the course. Heh.

This is where the terrain became interesting. Until now, I had been running on regular trails that were covered with leaves and the like (it smelled great). Now I was encountering harder ground with large smooth flat rocks. I had to watch my footing but it was no biggie.

My ankles were sore and they bothered me. I think it was because my joints were stiff. I ignored them and kept on going at an easy pace since I was using the first couple of miles as a warm up.

Between mile 3 and 4, there was another stretch of slope. I tried my best to keep running but once again, I had to stop to walk portions of it. I was a little annoyed at myself but decided that it was better to be conservative to make sure I had enough energy to complete the race.

Aside from us crazy runners, there were other people on the trails, including some hikers decked out with walking sticks and artic snowsuits (or so it seemed). Imagine my surprise when I saw somebody run in the OPPOSITE direction to me! I clapped (as I always do when I cross paths with runners) and the guy said, "I'm just running back for help".

I was a little worried at the comment and in less than 0.25 miles, I came to a group of three people. There was a lady laying on the ground with a bloody towel pressed to her face. Two men stood over her. "Are you okay?" I asked. "Yeah," they replied. [Post race update: the poor lady had broken her nose and required stitches. I've left her name out for privacy reasons.]

Another half a mile later, I saw huge, massive boulders. I had to do some real rock climbing! To my consternation, most of it was climbing down which was a little frightening due to my fear of falling. It took me a while to scamper down these parts. The lady that was running right behind me noted that the only time she caught up to me was during these parts because I would literally slow down to a crawl on my hands and feet.

There was a third aid station at around mile 5 or 6. It was deep in the woods surrounded by thick forestry and thus no sunlight came through. A jolly volunteer asked whether I wanted water or Gatorade. "No thanks!", I cheerfully replied pointing to my pack, "I'm self supported!" I'm so impressed with all the Redwood Trail volunteers in general, but I give extra points to this woman for being so friendly and encouraging even though she was standing around in freezing weather. It must have been a complete haul for her to have dragged a table down with her to create that aid station.

The course is theoretically an out and back, but there's a unidirectional loop in the middle. I didn't know where the loop began so I was very worried when I saw some steep rock stairs. They were placed at regular intervals so I didn't have trouble going down them, but I dreaded the possibility of having to come back up. If I had to, you can be certain that I was going to walk it.

Once again, the trail narrowed, and I ran along the side of the hill/mountain/cliff. At this point, I was stepping more on rock than trails - hence the name: Castle Rock Trail! There were spectacular views but I just glanced briefly at them before continuing on my run. I would have looked up more but I was too busy watching the ground to make sure I didn't twist my ankle. There were more people around me at this point, and I would hear the occasional "Oh no!", "Whoa!", "Aaagh!" as they had near misses falling off rocks. This is the only time I have ever been thankful for having tiny feet because I could get a toehold almost anywhere.

There was a couple running just ahead of me who are worth mentioning because they were such an odd pair. I'm not sure whether their relationship extended beyond running buddies. The man was a middle-aged, tall fellow who had won one of the gift certificates at the beginning of the race. He said he liked drinking and that's why he ran: to burn off calories. In fact, he joked that he was probably the fastest alcoholic in his age group. He was funny so I didn't mind listening to him. The woman he was with, however, was a different story. She whined about not wanting to have kids because she didn't want them to define her life blah blah blah. I wanted to slap her.

D worries about cramps because he gets them a lot during races. I never get them but I tell him it's because I don't run far enough or hard enough. Until today. As I was scrambling over a cluster of rocks, I put my left foot on a tall rock, pushed down and... ouch. Cramp in the left calf. I panicked momentarily because I thought I would have a cramp until the end of the race (which is what happens to D) but I was able to relax the muscle and keep on running. Phew! Dodged a bullet.

I was so focused on my calf that the sudden appearance of the second aid station took me by complete surprise. That meant that I had reached the part of the trail that doubled back on itself. Yippee! I breathed a sigh of relief as I realized that I wouldn't have to climb back up the steep rock stairs and other equally harrowing obstacles. By definition, I was at around mile 7 at this point. My body knew it too. My legs were ready to stop even though I had almost 4 more miles to go. "It's all mental," D once told me about endurance running. No kidding. I had to will myself to keep moving.

Next I had to tackle some steep switchbacks. Actually I didn't tackle them. I walked. Plod, plod, plod. Even though I was all warm from running, the temperature was noticeably cooler again, probably due to all the shade. That's when my hands turned to ice again. After I passed the first aid station at the top of the climb, I crossed the road (Highway 35 I think) and headed towards the final stretch.

I usually don't pay much attention to mile markers, but I was looking out for each and every one now. I needed to see that I was making progress and that I was really getting closer to the end. I was practically dragging my feet across the ground with each step which made it difficult to avoid obstacles. In fact, while trying to hop over a tree root, my left foot didn't quite clear the bump. The top of my shoe got caught and I went straight down. Splat. And cramp (left calf again). The ground was soft with leaves and dirt so I had a nice and soft landing. My calf recovered almost instantaneously as well although I wasn't sure it would hold up for much longer.

Finally, I saw a sign that said "1 Mile to Go!" As delighted as I was to see those words, I wasn't sure whether it was REALLY one mile to go, or whether it was 1.75. In any case, I was relieved to know that I was done with all the hills and climbing.

Or that's what I thought. There was more hill! I could've sworn that somebody put it here after the start of the race because I didn't remember it being there before. So I walked. Again. I should have been disappointed with myself for walking so much during this race but I was beyond caring at his point. I just wanted to be over and done with. I was tired and despondent.

Finally, I heard D cheering for me as I popped up near the finish line. I looked at the stop clock and couldn't believe my eyes: 2:30:38. That couldn't be right. I was out there running for TWO AND HALF FREAKING HOURS?? No wonder I was exhausted! 10.75 miles is only aobut 50% longer than I've ever run, but it took me twice as long to do it. D says it's not a fair comparison because the terrain for each race is different and I was told beforehand that this was not a fast course. But still, 2:30? The fastest person finished in 1:20. Something to aspire to I guess!

I finished towards the back of the pack but was still pleased with my results (PDF file). I placed 159 out of 189 overall, 22 out of 29 in my age group and 56 out of 78 in my gender group. D asked me whether this was harder or the Treasure Island sprint. Castle Rock for sure. For one, it only took me 1:37 to finish the triathlon, plus I was using different muscle groups for each event. Castle Rock is definitely the toughest race I've ever done. I had nothing left in the tank when I crossed the finish line.

D finished in 2 hours, but he cramped again in the last couple of miles (much worse than me) and also hurt his left ankle: he heard it pop spontaneously. He didn't actually twist it, but it was injured badly enough so that he limped even after the race. This all happened when the temperature dropped suddenly. I have a feeling he cramps because of the cold. He wears knee warmers but he really needs full length running pants. Methinks that this will be our last race for the season.

Lessons learned for this race:

• 10 miles is a really long distance to run! It's even worse when you're prepared to run 10 but then it ends up being 10.75 :-)
• Wear gloves and long pants for running in cold weather

We'll be back next year!

Close Encounters with Indoor Cycling

I went to the Peninsula Y today to do some indoor cycling. After I changed (clipless shoes and all) and waited eagerly by the door for class to begin, I noticed that it was removed from the schedule! Crossed out with a thick black marker. I was crushed. There are other equally confused people loitering around the studio door asking what happened to class. Turns out that there hasn't been 8PM cycling for a few weeks now. I thought it was because Eleanor (the instructor) was still at EMT training which doesn't finish until late December but it sounds like a more permanent problem. I was told that after the holidays, the class may be replaced by yoga. Uh oh.

Once again, I miss another workout. Tomorrow is "Biomechanics of Cycling" lecture at Presidio Sports Basement so that'll be three days in a row without some sort of training...

Triathlon Wetsuit 101: How to Choose a Wetsuit

Way back in July 2003, I attended a wetsuit clinic at Sports Basement. They covered several topics including why you should wear a wetsuit for swimming and how to choose one. I have finally typed up my notes which are primarily taken from a handout they distributed. I've reformatted it slightly and elaborated on some of the points with my own commentary.

Sunday Ride with Margaret

I had originally planned to cycle every available Sunday for six weeks starting in mid-September. You know how many times I went? Zero. I had every excuse for skipping rides: too cold, too scared, too depressed (stolen bike), too incompetent, too slow, too busy. Finally, I deployed my secret weapon: Margaret.

Margaret is a lovely fellow YMCA instructor I met a few months ago. She's a spirited fitness enthusiast whose husband is an avid cyclist. She claims that she used to read my triathlon/training blogs to build up courage to cycle more. Since all I ever write about is falling off my bike I'm surprised that she didn't become discouraged about the whole thing!

I told her about Velo Girls (VG) and what a phenomenal & supportive bunch of gals they are. We both agreed to attend the Basic Bike Clinic and regularly participate in the Sunday Rides. Ideally, we would have done the Basic Bike Clinic BEFORE the Sunday Ride (the same way I would have preferred to do the clinic before my triathlons), but we went ahead anyway.

Today was The Day that we agreed to do our first Sunday Ride together. For her inaugural VG ride, Margaret purchased a fluorescent yellow windbreaker. Not to be outdone, I bought a yellow Cannondale one with detachable sleeves from Sports Basement. It's practical and has a snazzy design. I highly recommend it.

Lorri promised us good weather for the day, and she delivered with flying colors. Unfortunately, she was still injured and did not ride with us (get well soon!) but she gave the safety discussion and showed us some beautiful VG static windshield stickers that Margaret & I were determined to earn. There were about eight of us cycling that day in total, but most people wanted to do the 42 mile ride up Old La Honda.

Bless her soul, Holly volunteered to lead the 30-mile ride, and Priscilla graciously swept for the first part all the way up until we reached Canada Road. I was on a mountain bike with loose toe clips and miraculously made it up all the hills, huffing and puffing all the way. Priscilla was encouraging and kept an eye out for me so I felt safe. Holly gave me some great tips on how to cycle better: (1) Sit back in the saddle and push legs forward (2) Cycle straight (minimize side to side motion) and (3) Do more spinning. The sitting back in the saddle part was excellent for hills. I'd also like to cycle straighter too because Holly explained that I waste energy by engaging in unnecessary lateral motion. I hope that will come with improved balance and practice. I have to work on motivating myself to do more indoor cycling. Maybe I'll reward myself with a heart rate monitor after my tenth class/ride.

I tell myself that the reason I was so slow was that my bike was heavy but that explained only 33% of my sluggish speed. Another 33% was due to the fact that I was unable to shift into my big ring in the front. The remaining 33% is due to the fact that I just have low cycling endurance. Skill and competence aside, since I'm an average runner, I thought I'd be an average cyclist since I use my legs for both activities, right? Wrong. As explained by the concept of "specificity", I need to cycle more to develop my cycling muscles. I think it's time for me to start attending the Peninsula Y indoor cycling classes again. Perfect timing too since I think Eleanor should be back soon to teach the class.

I learned from the mistake I made on my last Sunday Ride and cycled across the Ralston/92 intersection without incident. In fact, I made it all the way to Woodside without any problems. I was quite pleased.

On the way back, we took a detour across the Ralston pedestrian bridge to avoid the cars on Skyline. The tradeoff was that we had to climb some hills but I'd rather deal with that than cars any day. The only downside to that route is that we had to make a slightly harrowing left turn at a poorly designed intersection at the top of the path. Fortunately, our fearless leader Holly carefully explained what we had to do and made sure that we followed her closely.

Cycling in the Peninsula is much better than riding in the city, but I was quite appalled at some of the road conditions. There were what I can only describe as missing chunks of road all over the place. What's that about? Why don't they fix it? While budget constraints are an obvious answer, I also suspect that residents in the area probably don't want the roads patched up in the hopes of having fewer cylists. I tried to dodge cracks and crevices but wasn't always successful. Fortunately, I was able to roll over everything without getting my tires stuck.

I made it all the way back to Summit without falling once. Wahoo! Margaret was a complete stud and discovered that all her fears were unfounded: I'm proud to say that she cycled much faster than I did and looked very confident.

We both had a great time cycling and have already started to talk big game. We're planning on doing a century next year. We're going to log more miles on our bikes (I think she has a hybrid) before buying road bikes. She's found an interesting looking Specialized Dolce Comp that I will investigate at some point. The Dolce Elite is also a (cheaper) possibility. Assuming they have the same frame, it may be wiser to purchase the Elite, crash and bang up the Tiagra components without remorse, and then upgrade to Ultegra later.

Next week: Velo Girl Basic Bike Clinic!

The Pygmalion Effect

Here's a WSJ (subscription may be required) on expectation effects, also known as the Pygmalion effect:

"Expectation becomes a self-fulfilling prophecy," says Robert Rosenthal, professor of psychology at the University of California, Riverside. "When teachers have been led to expect better intellectual performance from their students, they tend to get it. When coaches are led to expect better athletic performance from their athletes, they tend to get it. When behavioral researchers are led to expect a certain response from their research subjects, they tend to get it."

Expectations are communicated verbally and otherwise. Professor Rosenthal refers to the "nonverbal, subtle and usually unintentional messages" used to convey expectations as covert communication.

I experienced this first hand with a step class I started teaching a few months ago. It used to be taught by a single instructor but she had to give up the class. I later found that she used the same routine all the time so everybody knew all the moves.

After her departure, nobody was able to commit to that class full-time, so a rotating schedule was created instead where different instructors teach it each weekend. For some reason, I assumed that the participants were intermediate/advanced, so I have been delivering classes to them at that level of choreography and intensity. There was a wee bit of a learning curve as they adjusted to my method of cueing but they've been able to follow my classes beautifully. They really stepped up to the plate (pardon the pun).

Imagine my surprise when I received an email from a fellow step instructor who said that she has recently seen a dramatic improvement in participants' step skills. She said that when she subbed this class a long time ago, she was disappointed to find that the participants were still basic steppers even though they had all taken the class for a long time. She subbed the class again lately and was pleasantly surprised at how much better they were. She thought that they had greatly benefited from a rotating structure which forced them to adapt to different instructor styles. Cool.

I Can't Move My Legs

For some reason, I thought it was a good idea to sign up to teach two back-to-back step classes the day after a 10K trail run.

Well I certainly paid for my folly today because I can't move my legs properly. It actually started yesterday afternoon as I hobbled towards the Pacbell Park parking lot to see the latest Cirque du Soleil show, Alegria.

As of now, I can walk with relative ease, but I still can't go down stairs without excruciating pain. I hope it goes away soon, I just promised Elaine I'd sub Loida's Basic Step & Strengthen class tomorrow.

Two Successful Step Classes

I taught two step classes at Palo Alto today (basic & advanced). I usually use different choreography for each class, but I took a flyer and used the advanced step choreography for the basic step class with pitched down music (124-126 bpm?). I also made a special effort to break down the moves thoroughly. They all got it. Thank goodness. There was one girl who didn't catch on as quickly, but she stuck with the class. Good for her.

I pitched the music up a wee bit faster for the advanced class and that class went swimmingly as well. I was so frightened by my Class From Hell experience that I spent a long time that whole week memorizing the choreography and figuring out how to break everything down without going off the 32-count or using a holding patterns. I practised cueing in the car to TK music (I figure if I can cue at 138 bpm, I can easily cue at 128-132 bpm) and did the steps while waiting for the train etc.

I prepared three 64-count self-reversing combos, but I only had time to do two because I did two intervals including "knee-tapout" (curtesy of Margaret). I also walked around during the interval to motivate the troops. People would work harder when I came by. It's funny because I used do the same thing when I'm a participant in somebody else's class.

Some people thanked me after class which was nice. The only "thing to do better for next time" feedback I got was to use the term "shooters" instead of "split basic" because that's what the other instructors do. I'll happily make that switch.

Heaven's View Trail Run

I ran the "Heaven's View 10K" today - my first trail run with Redwood Trails. It was very similar to the Angel Island run I did back in August with Envirosports. D opted for the half marathon (1/2M) which was two loops of the 10K course.

It was supposed to rain today, and I was very worried about the weather. When we got to the island, we stuffed all our belongings in plastic bags. I anticipated that I would warm up quickly after I started running, so I wore my usual running gear only to find that I was inadequately dressed. At D's advice, I put my on Treasure Island t-shirt on top of everything. Much better.

In his introductory speech, the organizer, Eric Gould, informed us that the race distances were longer than advertised. Eric used both a GPS and a measuring wheel to figure out the trail lengths, and he said that the "10K" was actually 6.88 miles and the "1/2M" was 13.76 miles. He also advised us to use the first 0.25 miles to figure out where to place ourselves in the pack because it would be difficult to overtake people after that since the path narrowed to a single track.

D started with the other 1/2 marathoners at ~9:10AM. Ten minutes later, I went with the 10K crew. There was also a 5K run or walk option for other folks who started after us. I thought it was a great idea to have this shorter distance available to trail running newbies.

I assumed that we were going to take the same path as the one for Envirosports where we started off with a brief uphill portion, followed by a sharp left directly onto the trails. Imagine my surprise when our course was such that we continued straight. Straight UPHILL that is.

I kept up a brisk pace during the first part of the race to jockey for position. What a mistake. I haven't run hills in weeks, so I was completely unprepared for the climb. As I passed a couple of ladies on the way up, I heard them complain that they had only run about 50 feet yet they were already out of breath! I'd like to say that I was able to scoff at their weakness, but I felt exactly the same way. The hills were killing me.

Before the race began, I told D that my goal was (1) to finish (as always) and to (2) run nonstop. I was in grave danged of violating (2). My lungs seared with pain with each inhalation of cold air, and I was on the verge of hyperventilating. It took every ounce of willpower for me to keep on running while my lungs kept on screaming "STOP! WALK!" every step of the way. I had no idea how I was supposed to run for 6.9 miles given that I was on the verge of collapse less than 0.25 miles into the race.

I have no idea how I managed it, but I kept on running. Things were better when I hit the dirt trails because it wasn't as steep, but I was still wheezing. I was breathing so heavily and so loudly that people ahead of me knew I was approaching even when I was nowhere near them.

This prolonged misery lasted all the way until I reached the flat part of the course which is where I was supposed to accelerate. Instead, I slowed down to catch my breath and get my heart rate down. Several people passed me. I gradually sunk into a much too comfortable pace where I was running at 75% effort. It was quite annoying because I knew I needed to be at 85% exertion (tempo!) but the motivation wasn't there.

At around mile 3.1, there was an aid station near the summit. What a lovely surprise! Eric said that the guy stationed there actually spent the night at Angel Island. I assumed he was camping. Brrr. Must have been freezing! Since I was running with my Camelpak, I didn't need to stop and kept on chugging away.

In hindsight, the aid station was strategically located right before another (%&#$@ hill. I remembered it from my last run, but I had forgotten how long that portion was. Once again, I worked very hard to fight off my instinct to walk.

We were told that there were mile markers on the course, but since I was looking at the ground most of the time (glancing occasionally to see the outstanding scenery -- they don't call it "Heaven's View" for nothing!), I didn't see any until a sign that said mile 5. I was quite excited because I was more than halfway done. It was also at this point that some friendly guy passed me and asked, "How are you doing?" "Great!" I replied enthusiastically. "You've got a great pace," he continued, "very smooth". Well it obviously wasn't smooth enough because he easily loped ahead and disappeared into the distance.

The last part of the race was downhill so I ran as fast as I could to try and catch up. I did overtake a few people, but nowhere near the number that had passed me earlier. I had to watch my footing very carefully too, because parts of the trail had deteriorated. One wrong step and I would have unwittingly thrown myself off the side of the hill.

While bounding down the hill, I saw D on his way to do the second loop) and gave him an enthusiastic high five while whooping and hollering. In case you're wondering, it's not a good thing that I was able to yell and cheer for other runners in the middle of the race. It means that I had too much energy. I should have put more effort into running faster instead.

The results are in! My time was 1:08:14 and I placed 62 out of 112 10K runners in total. I placed 11 out of 25 in my age group, and 24 out of 62 for my gender. Not bad.

Unfortunately, D did not fare as well. He had a massive leg cramp that consumed his entire being around mile 9 of the race so he had to stop and stretch for about two minutes before he could move again. He still couldn't run or jog so he walked the rest of the way to the finish line. Even that was painful. He was grimacing when I saw him finish. He was in whole world of hurt. He said that it was as bad as his trail marathon. Yikes.

I think he should see a sports doctor to see why he cramps so easily. He had taken a salt pill before the race and had filled his hydration unit with Perpetuem, so it's unclear to either of us why he developed cramps. D is amazed that I never cramp, but I told him it's only because I don't run fast enough or far enough to experience something like that... yet. I have a bad feeling that I'd get cramps if I ever tried to do a 1/2M which is what I'm working my way up to.

Speaking of which, our next race is the Castle Rock Trail Run on 11/22/03. It's supposed to be one of the most beautiful trails in California. It's also 10 miles long. Stay tuned.

Why I Teach Group Exercise

I have not worked out in 3 days.

Monday: a well deserved day off since I did the Treasure Island (Sprint) on Sunday.

Tuesday: D was going out of town for the next two days so I felt I needed to be home to spend time with him (never mind that he went to lift weights at the gym).

Wednesday: I intended to go swimming but it was raining and I worried about getting cold.

Thursday: Thank goodness I teach a regular cardio kickboxing class on Thursdays! Otherwise, I would have found some other pathetic excuse to skip my workout.

My kickboxing class was exactly what I needed. It was a much bigger class than usual since a bunch of new participants came to try my class. They had a lot of fun and thanked me after class. It boosted my confidence significantly and has officially exorcized the bad mojo from my awful subbing experience. I think my participants increased my psychological wellbeing more than what I did for their physical health. I'm baaaaaaack!

The Day I Almost Quit Teaching

This is something I wrote a few days ago and posted on a bulletin board for aerobics instructors. I was so angry after this incident that I steamed over it for days. It's self-explanatory.

I had the worst class today in my (short) aerobics career.

I subbed an advanced step class and I thought it can do it because I'm part of an advanced rotation at other clubs. But I lost confidence early on, it was a disaster of a class, and lots of people left. It was so bad that halfway during class, *I* wanted to leave class. Fortunately, I had a good friend (another instructor) there who was really encouraging and helped me get through it. She also gave me some great feedback afterwards as to some of the things I did wrong so I can improve in the future.

I admit that I completely set myself up. The regular instructor teaches steps at 140+ bpm, doesn't step on the 32-count phrase (always starts on the 2nd beat of the 32-count phrase), but has very fancy choreography. Despite this, the regular instructor (let's call him/her "X") has developed a very loyal following because X has high energy and is extremely motivating.

I spoke to the coordinator afterwards and told her that I shouldn't sub this class anymore because the participants wanted 140+ bpm and I wouldn't teach at that speed (I max out at 132 bpm).

What bothered me about this conversation wasn't the fact that she said I wasn't experienced enough to teach this class, but for her disregard for participants' safety. Her definition of advanced step = 140+ bpm... at a YMCA where the policy is 128 bpm max speed?? I was very disappointed to hear this. She is proud of our fast step classes and compared this gym to "Crunch". She said she used to be at another gym and looked the other way when instructors taught step at 150 bpm because the classes were packed with 60+ people, and the participants would come back for more even after twisting their ankles.

She then told me that it wasn't just my slow speed, my choreography was also too basic compared to X's. She asked me about X's class and I said I was not a fan because X starts on the 2nd beat of the 32-count phrase, to which she replied "it's a [European] thing". [She actually specified the country but I've left it out]. My director says she doesn't care what beat an instructor starts on, as long as that person is consistently on that beat.

I know that BPM is a contentious issue on [this bulletin board], so I'm not criticizing those who do step at faster speeds, especially if your gym condones/encourages it. It's just not for me. I'll just teach at other Y branches where the directors are okay with me stepping at 128 bpm even for their advanced classes.

Thanks for letting me vent.

I received a lot of encouraging messages from other instructors who read my post. As horrid as this encounter was, I've learned a lot from it and am more determined than ever to become a better instructor -- just not at this gym.

Treasure Island

I rock. I can't believe that I successfully completed the 2003 Treasure Island Triathlon (Sprint).

I'm so proud of my achievement that I've put the writeup (complete with pictures taken by D) on it's own separate webpage!

A Triathlete's Prayer

Dear God,

Please let me get through Treasure Island (Sprint) tomorrow without injuring myself. It'd be great if I could also finish somewhere in the middle of my age group but I understand that's asking for a lot.

Amen