Sunday, December 13, 2015

Oppenheimer Holm, or The Day Meitner Was a Confused Nomad

One Saturday morning, Meitner was contentedly munching on some hay, when The Human opened the roof. He preferred to keep eating second breakfast, so he darted around his home to avoid her hands. She caught him, however, and unceremoniously plopped him in a small maroon box with a bedding floor. He remembered this bucket...but could have sworn it was three times larger last time he was in it.

Suddenly, Meiti Pig's vessel rocked and rolled and the world got very cold and fairly wet as he was carried outside for the first time in months. What was this white stuff falling through the roof?  He was not thrilled.  Soon, he was warm again, and baffled by the vibrating floor and loud noises. BUT OH! CARROT! JOY AND HALLELUJAH!

Meiti could see The Human. She kept worriedly looking at the white stuff falling from the sky and squeaking strangely. He couldn't decide if this sound was pleasant. After quite sometime, most of it without Food (since he finished the carrot quickly), the weird motion of his pod stopped. The Human opened a portal and it became so cold and slightly wet again for a bit, until the capsule stopped moving. He smelled new Beings (he caught a glimpse of one with a long, skinny tail), some of which were his own kind! The Human opened the hatch, grabbed him (the indignity), and held him face-to-face to the first Pig he'd seen in almost a year. Such excitement!

 The Other Pig was scared, though, too nervous to be friends. The Human set Meiti in a new habitat, and he enjoyed chatting with Other Pig through the perimeter. So refreshing to carry on an actual conversation!

Mysteriously and inconsequentially, The Human disappeared for a few hours. Between the sturdy house and strawberries from Other Human, Meiti Pig decided he could live here forever.

For better or worse, The Human returned, grabbed Meitner from his new favorite abode, placed him back in the pod, and transported him through the cold to the noisy, vibrating bubble. Muttering something about the deliciousness of "breakfast burritos," The Human seemed more comfortable, now that the white stuff had ceased to fall. She continued to squeal strangely and slightly unpleasantly, however. 

This trip ended in the most intriguing territory Meiti had ever experienced. There were three fluffy things jumping all about and yapping most incessantly. A faint smell of soiled bedding preceded the cacophony of thirty Pigs as a New Human led them into a sanctuary of sorts. For the third time, The Human lifted Meiti Pig, little legs flailing (will it never end), out of the maroon vessel and released him on a soft fleece floor that reminded him of home (does he live there anymore? Who can ever know?). In the corner, was a Young Pig. 

Oh and lettuce. Thank HEAVENS. It had literally been ages. Young Pig exuberantly welcomed Meiti Pig. He recently lost his brother, and had been so excruciatingly lonely. None of the other thirty Pigs were right, but he sensed something he liked in Meitner. Meitner sensed something, too: that he really loves hay.

Young Pig popcorned all about the cage, running and jumping and twitching and squealing. The Pigs exchanged derriere sniffs. Young Pig tried to mount Meiti Pig, who simply shook the much smaller baby off and kept eating. The Humans exclaimed happily about friendship and compatibility, and then rudely stole the Food. For...more times than Meiti Pig can count, he was stuffed back into the bucket. His spirits were instantly raised when hay followed him through the hatch. Out again into the cold, where now freezing water was descending from above, The Human shoved his craft into a new location in the loud wagon: where he could not watch her, under her strange metal and rubber beast.

Soon, he realized why. Young Pig was joining them in this bubble of gray fabric. In Meiti Pig's pod's former spot next to The Human.

The roof of Young Pig's home wouldn't fit, it seems. Meitner caught a few words of a conversation between the humans ("Whatever, stuff it in the trunk") before the portal closed. The Human returned to her normal seat, shivering and wet. The quaking, rumbling, and squealing from The Human restarted. Is this life now? It got quite dark in the bubble. Meiti Pig napped and napped, exhausted from his new nomadic and social existence. 

Eternities later, Meiti awoke to familiar smells of soggy dirt and pines as The Human lugged his plastic cocoon within Young Pig's habitat, next to his purple igloo, through the night. She set them down (with a slightly jarring thud), scratched at a new portal, and SWEET RELIEF. Meiti Pig knew he was home. Actual home, that doesn't move or freeze or let precipitation descend from on high. (Though The Human squawks strangely here, too.) For the last time on this journey, The Human elevated Meitner from his tiny vessel and returned him to his beloved Pig Mansion. There was his cardboard house! Here was his tiger-striped carpet! FINALLY. HIS HAY. 

He stopped eating to watch The Human chase away The Beings with Sharp Pointy Bits (who occasionally are friendly and visit with Meiti Pig...but in whom he senses a disturbing deep, dark desire...). Next, she shoved Young Pig's home next to his, and gave them both apple slices. DESSERT. YES. 

Young Pig hid in his igloo. Confused and scared and tired. Belly-full and benevolent, Meiti Pig encouraged him to explore. Young Pig hesitantly left his grape dome and skipped over to chat. He said his new name was Oppi Pig (rhymes with "hoppy"). Meiti decided he liked having a neighbor that spoke his language and smelled like him. The Human said they'll hopefully even be roommates soon. 

Welcome, little Oppenheimer Holm! 

Wednesday, August 26, 2015

Toughman NM: 1.2 mi swim, 56 mi bike, 13.1 mi run


Okay, I admit, this is terrible.

After my first Olympic triathlon this June (City of Lakes), I continued training for Toughman NM. Toughman is a half Ironman distance race with a 1.2-mile swim, 56-mile bike ride, and a 13.1-mile run (a half marathon): 70.3 miles of moving under your own body's power. Down at Cochiti Lake in between Albuquerque and Santa Fe, it was as local as a race with an open water swim could get for us. I got to sleep in my own bed and swim in the lake I trained in (five whole times! Twice without panic attacks!), so it had all the makings of a great race.

I tapered at sea level, in Washington for my sister's wedding, so I was a little worried about losing my altitude acclimatization. My parents' town is just as hilly (or more) as Los Alamos, so my workouts were perfect in that respect. (My other sister arranged for me to borrow a bike from her REI coworker, which my parents drove home for me, and bride sister let me borrow her car to get to a pool. I couldn't ask for a more supportive family!) Coming home, there was an air alert issued due to smoke from the WA/OR/CA fires, suggesting caution when performing outdoor activity, so that was a little worrisome, too. 

Naturally, I was overly dramatic the night before and composed a triathlete's blessing:

May the Lord bless you and keep you,
May your swim be panic free in still waters,
May your bike be flat-tire free over smooth roads,

and may your run be crawl-free through a cool rain.

May the wind be ever at your back and a smile ever on your lips, 
for tomorrow, WE RIDE!!

I packed early on Saturday and sat around, nervous, excited, and pretty much in denial about the whole thing. Surprisingly, I was able to sleep pretty well from 8:30pm until 3:15am, when I jumped out of bed, fed all the confused fluffies, and zipped off to pick up Katie. Katie volunteered for the race  for the ten or so hours we were at Cochiti and then drove my exhausted self home after buying me ice cream. She is a KEEPER.

We arrived before sunrise and I discovered something to add to future triathlon packing lists: a headlamp. There were a couple streetlights, but transition was dark. Friends' headlamps and our cell phones' flashlight apps helped the setup.

Scotty is always ready for adventure.

One of my favorite things about Toughman was how many people from the LA tri scene were there: Liz, Lani, Lori,  Tony, Heather, Tad, Diane, Mike E, Karen, Frank, Steve, Mark, Mike H, Scott...I think I got them all?? It was especially nice having Liz and Lani only a couple transition spots away--yay friends!!

Tony! He sold me my first pair of cycling shoes and pedals for $20 and I used them all season!!

Lani got 1st in her (our) age group!!

Heather rocked the bike portion for a relay team!!

Liz got 2nd overall female!! She is so fast!!

After getting all set up and putting on sunscreen and stuffing myself into my wetsuit, I had butterflies in my tummy. I was so excited, but worried about panicking on the swim and getting flat tires on the bike and...well, I wasn't worried about the run. Being around my friends helped. Heather, Tad, and Katie took most of the following pictures and live-updated to Facebook all day, which was a blast to find out when I got to my car HOURS later!!

Thanks for the photobomb, sir.

THE SWIM: 1.2+ miles in 54:34

(My watch said I swam 1.36 miles, actually. [Everyone else's measured long, too.])
Map from my Garmin watch: I swam fairly straight!

The swim started in the water, so after the men swam off at 6:30am, the women and team swimmers made our way out to the dock for our 6:40am start time.

I'm somewheeeeere, oooout theeeere...

I was nervous, but then I saw Diane in the water, and she's such a calming presence. THEN, I noticed Heather and Tad on the dock (they were going to bike and run legs of the relay)!



I'm the second head from the bottom. We're so colorful.

Breeeathe. (I'm in the center.) That yellow buoy in the background was the third in the rectangular course.

GO TIME! (I'm the second from the bottom, starting my stroke.)

Swim like little fishies!

Looking back on the boat ramp where I was going to exit in almost an hour.

The swim was the best I've ever had! I had zero panic attacks. My mind stayed quiet and focused on my breathing and stroke. I positioned myself near the back and outside of the pack of females, so I wasn't jostled too much. As it was a two-loop course, I was overtaken by the men, but again, no major punching, kicking, or splashing. And I passed two guys myself!! Woohoo! 

Curtis Gillen Photography

I started to get super antsy in the last couple hundred meters and was so happy to get out of the water. Trying to walk up the slippery boat ramp, I almost pulled a volunteer into the water, I was so dizzy and disoriented. 

So disoriented.

OH RIGHT. I should start undressing as I go!

T1 took 2:44. I still felt dizzy, but I was READY TO RIDE. As I left transition, I saw Katie! She caught me doing my dizzy-in-bike-shoes waddle.

Walking is difficult.

THE BIKE: 56 miles in 3:57:33

We had a flat, straight shoot out of transition in which to mount and make sure we were in the smallest gear, so we could slowly conquer The Wall.

I am currently so thrilled to be biking!
The Wall is that first steep climb in the elevation profile below. It was not easy. 

Oh this elevation profile. 
The first out-and-back of the Y-shaped course was great. I enjoyed it: the scenery varied, cyclists were all around, and while it was mostly uphill out, it was very manageable. The turn-around at mile 13 came quickly. The only concerns: my behind started hurting at mile 10 and my left hand started going numb around then, too. MILE TEN IS REALLY EARLY, GUYS.

All of my good feelings died on the second prong of the Y. From the apex of the Y (intersection of NM 22 and NM 16) to I-25, it was uphill WITH. A. HEADWIND. And sometimes a CROSSWIND. For EIGHT miles (with my sore behind and numb hand), I hated cycling and I hated triathlons. Seeing so many friends on the out-and-back was encouraging, though! After almost being blown off the overpass (not really), conditions and mood improved a bit. The wind was a little better, and we got some relief in the form of a few descents. Soon, though, I despaired of ever finding the turn around, and then almost cried when I did see it. Hallelujah!!

Coming back from the turn around, especially after crossing I-25, was AMAZING. I loved cycling and I loved triathlons (eight hours can contain many conflicting emotions). The downhill with tailwind totally rocked and I flew so fast! 

I forgot about the hill heading back up to the lake, but I conquered that slowly and surely. With some serious braking, I also survived biking down the Wall and turning sharply back into transition.

My behind was beyond thrilled to dismount.

T2 took 3:44 and was fine, except that my left hand was completely useless and couldn't grip my shoelaces. (I'm going to get my bike fitted professionally before next season and see what can be done.) I also forgot to reapply sunscreen, so that became fun.

THE RUN: 13.1 miles in 2:54:32

It was such a relief to get to the run! I swam and biked under the times I predicted, so I was sure to be well within the cutoff time. I walked up the Wall to keep my heart rate under control and get a breather, and focused on pushing myself while still enjoying myself. I had a FANTASTIC time on the run! 

Oh Northern New Mexico. What would you be without hills? We gotta love you.

After a little jaunt through a campground, we went off into the town of Cochiti Lake. Katie had been reassigned to an intersection on the run, where she got to stop traffic (the power almost went to her head) and make sure we Turned Left.

The neighborhoods were my favorite part of the run. Several people were in their driveways cheering. One adorable old man was handing out water from a cooler. And the best part? Two separate houses were hosing runners off. HOSING US OFF! The ice-cold drenching was fortifying and beyond refreshing.

Soon, after waving to Katie once more, I headed off on the three-mile, mostly uphill road to nowhere. I maintained a cheery mood (I don't know how, but I'll take it), but it was not pleasant. Zero shade, hot sun, and straight stretches of pavement are not ideal.

Also, and this is my one major race-organization complaint: there were NO BATHROOMS. Multiple people discussed this and none of us saw any. I had to go while on the bike, but figured I would wait for the promised potties on the run (I should've stopped at the ones in the transition area). By this time, everyone had been on the course for over five or six hours. We, um, dealt with it in the desert brush, and thank heavens no one encountered some of our native wildlife while doing it.

Two things I learned to love on the Toughman run: sponges filled with ice-cold water and Coke. The mostly flat Coke gave me a little kick, and the sponges were so refreshing. I took 1-2 at every stop--squeezed one down my shirt and one on top of my head and I was good to go!

Finally, I reached the turn around at mile 8. Three wonderful paramedics promised that I could indeed head back, and I made a new friend who was as ecstatic as I was. She and I would pass each other a few times over the next few miles (our walking breaks weren't synced, usually), until I slowly started to pull away. The last I heard from her was a "GET MOVING NOW!!!" as I walked just a tad too long, and that motivated me to push through to the final crazy leg of the race...the trail run?!?!

On pace for 2:45 or so run, I forgot that this was Toughman NM: would you like a trail run at mile 68.5 of your half Ironman?

They told us it was going to be "primitive" from about mile 11-12.5. We assumed perhaps gravel or a packed dirt road? It was, until around mile 11.5 or 12, gravel turned to sand, and a nice man at the final aid station told me to, "watch for rattlesnakes and don't trip on the little cacti, and just follow the cones through the bushes!!" By the time I went through (I was well in the back of the pack), there was a mostly discernible trail...but it didn't start out as anything but orange cones amongst scrub. I just had to laugh about it. I'm thankful I didn't twist an ankle, because if my footing is questionable when I'm alert, you should see me when I've been working out in the sunshine for seven and a half hours.

FINALLY, I emerged from the wilderness back at the campground, and another paramedic (their constant presence was reassuring) told me that I was almost there!

Then I hit the top of the Wall, and it was ALL DOWNHILL FROM THERE!! I was worried, again, for my footing/joints running down the steep incline, but I WAS SO CLOSE!!!

Just a sharp turn and a hard sprint to the finish line and I WAS DONE!! I COULDN'T BELIEVE IT!!! 

TOUGHMAN! Note my forthcoming treat on the right. (Curtis Gillen Photography)

Someone handed me my Toughman pint glass with an Otter Pop and my medal stuck inside!

 NBD, just finished 70.3 miles. (Curtis Gillen Photography)

 "Ma'am, are you ok? Are you sure you're ok?" "Yes, gimme my Otter Pop, I'll be fantastic." (Curtis Gillen Photography)

 Liz, Lani, and Katie appeared and hugged me! Then I got super dizzy... Sitting in the shade and eating more Otter Pops fixed me right up.


I had guessed 8+/-0.5 hours, so theory agrees with experiment. This put me in the middle third of my age group, which made me pretty darn happy for my first half IM.

The race photographer had a photo booth set up at the finish, which was pretty fun.

Katie! My favorite volunteer!!

No GPS watch of mine has ever registered soooo many miles.

I couldn't eat much solid food, even though I needed calories. My poor tummy was in such an angry state. I drank water and Gatorade and managed a small bag of Cheetos on the ride back to Santa Fe. Katie and I stopped for Thai, because Pad Thai sounded great, but then tummy said NOPE after a few bites. (I devoured it at 9pm.)

We tried something else. That Baskin Robbins Oreo Malt Shake went down VERY nicely.
SEE MY SUNBURN???? Just take a minute and reapply sunscreen in transition, ok?

Finally home, I took a bubble bath, ate my Pad Thai, pulled on my compression socks, and put up my feet, per Liz's suggestion.

Toughman NM had sweet swag, including my very first trucker hat and a cute t-shirt:

The medal is one of my favorites. I adore our New Mexico flag and am so glad it was included.

Muffin says, "whoa, you got a lot of Toughman stuff!"

What hurt next day? Every muscle except my facial ones. Plus my sunburnt skin, which included my nose, so I guess even my face hurt.

How was work, since it was Monday? Difficult, because besides the soreness, the poor air quality/questionable lake water gave me the sniffles, plus exhaustion, plus fuzzy brain...but I made it there by 8am and would love a gold star.

Would you do it again? Oh yes. I'm already thinking about next year's 70.3s and have lined up a real coach that I will pay to answer my ten million questions, instead of relying on the patience of my friends. My completely wonderful and supportive friends!

So what about a full Ironman? In theory, I want to do a 140.6 before I'm 40…but I need a whole lot more race-pain amnesia before I'll commit. 

How do you feel now? I still can't believe it's over and I DID IT.  It was brutal, but I never thought about quitting. I hated chunks of it, but overall, I loved the experience and am so proud that I finished strong and happy.