A coach's perspective on Quassy

A few more pointers from my coach on Quassy (more for my own benefit than anything else).

1.  Pedal through the top of the hill.  The image here shows the course elevation in green, my speed in blue and my power in pink.  As you can see at the highest point of that climb, my power is 0.  This means I crested and then immediately took a break.  I need to continue to keep the power up until at my desired cadence and speed, I can no longer apply pressure.

2.  My average heart rate was lower on this ride than planned, again supporting the above point.  Keep the pressure on.

3.  Really, truly walk through the transitions before the race.  Figure out where you're coming out of the water, practice finding the rack from both the swim entrance and the bike entrance.  No reason to loose seconds here.  Also I just bought some cheap bright green towels to mark my transition.

4.  Keep my feet behind me when running downhill.  I was definitely aware that as I ran downhill, I was not cruising, I was clomping.  My coach reminded me of how to float, by not extending my foot out in front where it will put on the brakes, but instead to slow by changing my cadence.  I'm definitely going to need to practice this in the upcoming weeks.  Maybe on my zone 2 runs.

5.  Never count myself out.  You just don't know what's going to happen in a race.  That girl that passed me on the bike may not have the legs to finish the run strong.  Stick to my plan and put in the best race I can.

Quassy! Quassy! Quassy! Oy! Oy! Oy!

Drenched.  Sodden.  Soggy.  Sopping.  Soaked.  It was a wet one.

Quassy swim

The swim went well.  I felt good.  Found clear water and caught up with slower swimmers from earlier waves.  The course was a little funky.  They had many buoys on the course but only two of them were turn buoys.  The others were "guide" buoys that you didn't have to keep to one side or the other.  When I rounded the second turn, I sighted the finish arch and swam towards it.  But the closer I got, the more it seemed like there were fewer swimmers around me.  Then I noticed I didn't see any one coming out of the water.  Not a good sign.  Then I realized I was swimming toward the starting arch, not the finish. You can see in my gps where I realized my mistake.  Luckily, they weren't that far apart.  According to garmin, I swam an extra ~100m.

The ride was tough.  Not just because of the elevation (which is decidedly the toughest ride I'll have all season).  I got overtaken by a few girls in my age group in the first few miles and that was disheartening.  And then the rain.  It had started and stopped all morning, but it seemed just as I hit the BIG downhill the skies opened up.  The bike was treacherous.  At 56 degrees and max speeds in the high 30s, I got cold, even with my jacket.  The bike was also tough because I'd been thinking of this race as a proving ground for all the training I've done since October.  To get out there and not have it go well undermined my confidence in that training.  Really, I just wanted to be off my bike.  To the point that when I returned to Boston, I put Shelby (the tri bike) in the basement and opted for the old Stallion for my recovery ride.

The appeal of throwing in the towel after such a disappointing ride was strong, but I didn't go to this race to quit.  I got running.  I had been caught by two girls in my age group right at the end of the bike, so they were my first goals.  I caught the first one right outside of transition, and the second before the first turn.  From there I started thinking about redemption.  My mantra was "I am going to salvage this race."  At mile two, there was a little out and back, and I saw my teammate J.  Sorry, J, but there was a target on your back from that point on.  The mantra became "Four miles to catch J," then "Three miles to catch J," finally, "Two miles to catch J."  And at mile five, I caught her.  We ran together for a bit, and then I moved on, up the last hill and to the finish.

I hit the finish line and burst into tears.  The combination of a disappointing ride and the pride at having a killer run was overwhelming.

In the days since the race, I'm feeling better about it.  The bike was wet, and the competition was fierce, but those things are out of my control.  What I could control was my approach to that final run, and I'm really proud that I dug deep and busted out a near PR on a hilly course.

A few parting thoughts about the race itself.  This is the first Rev 3 race I've done.  I really like the idea of another organization giving WTC a run for their money, getting a stacked pro field out there and running a super fun race.  I thought they rolled with the punches pretty well (not much you can do about the entire finishers chute becoming a giant mud pit, or your distributor not getting you the swim caps on time).  I have one suggestion for improvement though.  Rev 3 needs better signage.  During registration it was not at all clear that there were 3 steps, where the next step went, etc.  As a spectator on Sunday, there were no signs to the satellite parking, and when I did find it and took the shuttle back to the course the pick up was different from the drop off, and again no signs.  In transition, although this individual rack spots were labeled with both number and name, the ends of each rack were not, and it was challenging to locate which rack your bike was on.  So, yeah, overdo it on the signs.

And now it's time to go ride some hills.

Race day motivation

You're going to dominate those hills, keep perfect tabs on your HR via your gel flasks, take in all of your nutrition at the appropriate times,and master those silly little water pouches.

Kill it.

-R 

Quassy Race Plan: New Beginnings

It's almost here, and I'm getting excited.  I wasn't feeling much anticipation for the race last week, but then I made my race day spreadsheet and started practicing my transitions (bike mounts and dismounts, hitting the lap button on my watch, trying out different hair styles [my hair is long enough for braids again, my historical go-to style, but they are a pain in the butt to do at 4am, and I can never seem to get them tight enough, but of course going for the short hair option of two little piggies and a pony sometimes creates hot spots on my head, and requires that I fish the pony through my helmet in transition] - yeah, you can see why I need to practice).  I'm feeling ready.

This is my first attempt at this race.  I did the Pat Griskus last year, which has the same transition area but  different bike and run courses, so they're not comparable. 

Quassy Bike Elevation

Quassy Run Elevation

I don't have specific time goals for the race cause the course is HILLY, far too hilly for PRs.  But that said, I'm anxious to see what I can do with the training base I've built over the last 9 months with my coach.

Generally, I'm a slave to my Garmin.  I use alerts to tell me when I'm going too fast, not working hard enough, or when it's time to eat.  At the Newton Chilly Half, I used both the virtual partner and the HR alerts.  And you know what, it might have been technology overkill (Sacrilege!).  This time around, with my new Garmin 910XT, I'm only going to use the time alerts to remind me to take some gel.  But of course, I still have heart rates and power numbers and paces and cadence all to keep track of.  And somehow once I get moving, my ability to remember numbers completely goes out the window.  My solution:  numbers on my gel flasks.  I have separate ones for bike and run each with the relevant numbers for their sports.  We'll see how this works out, or if they're impossible to read in the heat of the moment.

 

The other element that has been occupying my pre-race brain is the temperature of the swim.  Two weeks ago, I went out to Walden for a swim.  The water temperature was roughly 58 degrees, and I got cold.  Really cold.  It reminded me of Mooseman last year, which just happens to be this same weekend.  After the swim, I put on pants and a jacket.  I stood in the sun.  I tried jogging in place.  I would still get these bouts of shivers.  I futzed around for almost an hour waiting for my body to warm back up before I went on my run.  And even then I didn't feel fully recovered until 20 minutes into my run.  I spoke with my coach about it and he pointed out that I can lose a lot of heat from my core because I have a sleeveless wetsuit.  I'm not ready to buy another wetsuit (this sport is so damn expensive, why couldn't I choose just one discipline!) For this race, I've borrowed a full wetsuit from a teammate, but as of two days ago the water temperature at Quassy was 67 at the race course.  And last weekend I went back to Walden and swam in my own sleeveless suit with no trouble at all.  So I'm leaving the suit choice up to a game-time decision.  On the one hand, I won't get cold in the full suit and air temperatures are slated to be in the low 60s, so a little extra heat generated on the swim wouldn't be a bad thing.  On the other, it's just nice to race in my own kit.

One other point:  I read through the athlete guide, and it looks like they won't be having traditional water stops on the course.  Instead there will be pouches of water.   8oz pouches of water.  I can see the appeal of this to the organizers: 1) sponsors 2) no concern about contamination 3) easier on the volunteers.  But as an athlete, I don't want 8 oz in one go.  I don't want to have to carefully tear open a pouch just enough to get to the water, but not so much that I create a water balloon explosion.  They say never try anything new on race day, but it seems this one is out of my control.

Well, that's it.  Time to go out, have fun and get faster with each and every stroke and step.

Firsts

Ok, Slacky McBlogsALittle, it's time for an update.

My first tri of the season is this week.  Really, I have no idea how it's already here.  I don't feel unprepared, I just don't feel like it can be nearly June.  I've got some transition practices to knock out over the next week, so hopefully, I'll arrive at the race course better than rusty.  But the first race of the season always feels like a bit of a craps shoot.  I've put in the hours training, but there's no substitute for a race.  I'll have to talk it over with my coach, but expect a race plan here over the next few days.

What I'm most proud of and excited by in the lead up to this race is my running.  It was mid-March before I got the all-clear to start back again.  I'm now running close to 20 miles per week, completely pain free.  It feels like a miracle.

Then there's other firsts.

This weekend was R's first half marathon.  I was stoked to cheer her on as she crossed another goal off her list.  I continue to be in awe of her determination and progress.  Halves are my favorite distance, so I was also eager for her to get a taste of the distance that you can't just go and do.  The distance that is equal parts legs, heart and brains.  And she totally rocked it.  Each time we saw her, she had a smile on her face.  She stuck to her plan and knocked out her goal.  It was fantastic!  And then she signed up for another.  I love it!

And finally, last fall when I switched coaches, I started down a path of regimented training for the 2012 Age Group Nationals Championship.  I realized that this style of coaching, though exactly what I was looking for, was not one that was super conducive with social training.  However, I've been proved wrong.  This winter I've done almost every single trainer ride with my friend A.  I've done nearly all of my swims with her as well.  She's been flexible enough to go along with my plan and steadfast enough to get me to all of my workouts.  I'm not sure I would have gotten them done without her.  (She left for vacation last week, and I'm super glad I have a taper week now, otherwise...)  

The happy byproduct of all this training with A is that she's decided she's ready to tackle her first Olympic distance triathlon at this year's Mass State race.  And she's decided to tackle it on her very own first road bike.  She's been a champ doing most of our bike rides on my road bike which is much too small for her. A few weeks ago, we went to the local bike shop and came out with a bike, pedals, shoes, a helmet, sunnies, and a saddle bag.  She is ready to roll.

So here's to the start of the 2012 season, and here's to new challenges, new goals and PRs.

On running a race

Yesterday, I participated in the James Joyce Ramble, a lovely 10K out in Dedham, MA which has actors in period dress reading Joyce along the course.  This 10K didn't really fit in with my prep for tri season, so my coach and I decided to use it as a training run.  The plan was to do a nice Zone 2 (easy) run and to not get too caught up in the competition.

We had a gorgeous day for it:  plenty of sunshine with a cool breeze.  And I got to run with my friends A and R and new friend D, who all set new PRs, so definitely worth it.  Still, there are benefits and drawbacks to running a race, but not racing it.

Benefits:

1. That is the best I've felt at the 4 mile mark of a 10K run, ever.  The thought that went through my head was "ooh, 2 more miles" instead of "ugh, 2 more miles."
2. I got to really enjoy the spectacle of the race.  The Joyce readers were fabulous.  There were a set of elderly twin women, in matching pink shawls reading in unison and a guy with a thick Irish brogue.  It was hard to really hear what they were saying, but it was still cool.  Then there were the three guys running with mullets sticking out the bottom of their headbands and American flags sticking out the top of them, singing "I'll ramble for you" to the tune of Culture Club's 'I'll tumble 4 ya.'
3. No pre-race nerves.
4. Water stops

Drawbacks:

1. The urge to pick people off is strong.  I started at the back of the pack, with the intention of running through and picking up my friend for the latter half of the race (which didn't work cause it was too small of a race).  So I got to pick people off for a few miles, but then I caught up to my pack, and it was tough to just hang and not go too hard.
2. $40 for a training run is a bit steep (though the free beer afterwards did help with that).
3. It's been a long time since I've run a 10K on its own (like 4 years).  As I was nearing the finish line, I realized that my training run was getting very close to my PR, and that if I could just pick it up a bit there at the end, I would beat it.  But I was already at the top end of my heart rate zone, so in the end I was 9 seconds slower than my PR from 2008.

Notes from Houston

We're down in Texas for Paul's sister's wedding this weekend, so that means more exploring the town via running for me. Here's what I've learned:

1. Despite being called a "speedway", the Buffalo Speedway had a speed limit of 30 mph. It was actually very pleasant to run down and had a well protected side walk on tree-lined, residential street.

2. Said speedway is also visually interesting. Maybe due to the lack of zoning, every house is different. Not just like different colors either. You get a low, brick ranch next to a stucco McMansion next to a southern charmer with big columns, a modern concrete slab and corrugated aluminum unit, and the occasional colonial. Really a pleasant distraction.

3. Despite my "hi"s and "good morning"s, the people of Houston out this morning were not very welcoming. Compare that to last weekend at lake George where all 11 people I came across said hi. Where's that southern hospitality?

4. I ran 7.5 miles this morning. My longest run since the stress fracture!

5. Finally, while I was out on the bayou, I heard a cyclist approaching behind me. I pulled to the right, and this guy on an elliptical with wheels rolled past. Seriously, I thought those things were just an Internet meme. Tey really do exist.

Return to elite hydration

This year, like last, I volunteered at the 10K elite hydration stop of the Boston Marathon.  I love Marathon Monday so much, getting to be out on the course helping the pros run their best (especially in a scorcher like we had on Monday), cheering on the amateurs as they reach their goals and riding my bike all over the course on a gorgeous Monday when most other people are at work.  It's just fabulous.  I won't go into the whos and whats and wheres and whys this time, since I covered that last year.  Here are the highlights.

1.  Losing my bottle cage.

Ok, this is less of a highlight.  I was riding my tri-bike, trying to make a workout out of my ride to the 10K mark, and I went over a bump.  I heard a crash, and looked back to see my rear bottle cages in the middle of the road.  I pulled over, and went back for them.  What I found was my cages and this small mustache-shaped brace.  If you look carefully, you'll see that the screws that were holding the brace in place have been snapped clean off.  Fail.  I had a back pack, so I chucked the cages in there and put the bottle in a side pocket.  Not as easy to retrieve, but better than nothing.

2.  Wearing spandex gives people license to talk to you


We stopped at a Dunkin Donuts on the way out, and every one was asking how far we were riding and if we were running.  Putting this in perspective:  on any other day, I would assume some one approaching me was either selling something or crazy.  And the idea that some one who presumably drove to the Dunkin would have anything to say to me other than abuse about being on their roads, well it just doesn't happen.  This is the magic of Marathon Monday.

[my table]

3.  And the cyclists were out in force


We saw hundreds of riders heading out to the start and back again while the roads were less utilized.  Perhaps it was just the warmer-than-usual weather, but it was great to see so many people out, and to get swept along with a group or two.

[here come the ladies]

4.  It was a smaller elite field

Organizers told us beforehand that because of the Olympics in London this year, they had a smaller crop of elite runners registered.  Pair that with the blinding conditions and my women's table only had 2 bottles on it, my mens table had none.  :-(  Some one suggested that perhaps because World Records cannot be set on this course that pros were less interested, but it's still Boston.  WR or no, it's still a significant line on your resume to win this race.

5.  No taste testing this year

With fewer athletes, hotter conditions, and a better organized strike of the water stop, there wasn't much opportunity to try out the elite's drinks this time around.  I'm curious if they would have been more salty this year.

[the men approach]

6.  A desolate, post-marathon wasteland

Once the majority of the race had passed through, we packed up and rode out to Heartbreak hill for a little cheering.  As we rolled through the amateur water stops, the road resembled some post-apocalyptic scene.  The street was strewn with cups rolling around, a few dazed runners staggered through.  Looked like a scene from a movie.

7.  Lost and found

Just as we were packing up at the 10K marker, a runner came up to me and thrust his balled up jacket my way.  He said, "Here, take it.  It's from Chile."  It's a very nice jacket, and I'd like to return it to the runner.  I've googled the team name, and they appear to be a race organizer from Chile.  I couldn't find anything on their marathon team itself.  There are only 24 males from Chile who raced Boston, and based on the time, I think I know who it was.  I'm going to try to contact the BAA and see if they can put me in touch with him.  If you have other ideas for how I could find this runner, please let me know.

Multisport Expo Swim Relay Race Report: Sparkle Motion

Last weekend, I got to race in my second ever swim meet.  Just like last year, I swam in the Multisport Expo Swim Relay.  But unlike last year, it was only a 300 yard swim, and I was wearing a matching sparkly, gold and pink swim suit.

[we couldn't find the same pattern for Brendan]

Before I get to the actual race, I have to point out, I had some awesome support.  Paul was out, along with a few friends from my old team, and R, her boyfriend, her roommate and a friend.  They made signs!  Just as I was about to hop in, I looked up and they were doing the wave.  Awesome.

Over the last month, my coach has had me swimming 3x300 once a week.  The first 300 is moderate, the second is moderately hard, and the last is very hard.  Here's how those times have shaken out:

My best time over the month was a 4:41.  I figured I could swim a 4:30 (1:30/100 pace same as last year) with all the excitement of the race.  

The other excitement for the race was that I bought a Garmin 910XT.  This is the latest, top-of-the-line Garmin triathlon watch.  There were two major factors in deciding to purchase this device.  1) It computes swim stats.  Not only did my old Garmin not give you data for swimming, it voided the warranty.  New Garmin counts laps, calculates splits and generally loves the water.  2) Since I train with my coach virtually, having a watch that keeps track of my swim and generates a file that I can just upload and send to him (just like I do with my Garmin on the run, or my SRM on the bike) just makes things easier.

The biggest surprise with New Garmin is that it is not a watch.  I had read reviews of other GPS watches that talk about them "being a watch."  But I always assumed that was just because it's not very stylish to wear a graphing calculator on your wrist.  Nope.  Turns out, this watch does keep track of the time, but it doesn't have a "sleep" mode where it's just displaying time.  Either you are training with this watch, or you have it turned off.  Let's not pretend it's a watch.

Ok, so we've got sparkly, matching suits, awesome cheering friends and a new watch.  Now we're ready to race.  It was a bit chaotic at the beginning with 18 teams, volunteer timers and lap counters, people doing a swim clinic and folks trying on wetsuits all trying to get organized.  We got there early, warmed up, dried off, registered, watched the first heat, then re-warmed and finally got to racing.

[just before the start- we're in the third lane]

In a year's time I still haven't learned to dive off the blocks.  Until I'm racing ITU races, I doubt that I will, so I started in the water, and swam second for our team.  Last year things felt serene.  This year, not so much.  I felt like I was going hard on the first hundred, but my form was good, I was cruising.  That didn't last long though, things started to feel a bit flaily in the second hundred and the third was spent just trying to hold on for dear life.

New Garmin created this not very helpful graph:

[I don't love that they invert the pace axis, so that 0 is at the top, I feel like that should mean that I'm swimming "negative" splits (which I was not)]

The graph shows the pace per hundred for each length of the pool.  That first length is 1:17, next is 1:20, then 1:22 and 1:24.  And the pace just got worse from there.  The good news:  I swam the first 100 in 1:20.8, my best time EVER for a 100.  The bad news, my average ended up being closer to 1:27 per 100.  Still, that's 3 seconds per 100 better than last year's relay AND:

[Training and racing 300s]

WAY better than my training 300s.

 The rest of my team are better swimmers than I am, and we placed a solid 6th out of 18 teams.  Not too shabby.

Finally, a post script.  R checked out the expo while waiting for the relay to start.  She came away excited to try out her first triathlon this summer!  I didn't even have to coerce her into it.  I am thrilled to get to expand my "coaching" role with her and to share my enthusiasm for the sport.

Becoming a runner all over again

In August of last year, my friend R ran a mile.  

Through a combination of bullying and cheerleading, I convinced her to sign up for the Somerville Homeless Coalition 5K where she crushed her goal and got psyched to do the Jingle Bell 5K.  

In preparation for that race, she allowed me to write her a training program.  I'm not a coach.  But I've read a good deal about training science, and I've executed on more than a few training plans in my time.  I know for me, one of the most important factors in my training is knowing that my coach is paying attention to my workouts.  Accountability is just not something I can enforce on myself.  Where I may lack in the certifications, I can definitely deliver on the accountability for R.  And using a few online plans, I cobbled together a plan that I thought would be enjoyable and would get R to her goal of going faster.

At Jingle Bell, R took 7 minutes off her time from SHC.  And she did some nice descending work, each mile faster than the previous.  Bolstered by her improvement, we embarked on a ~6 month plan to build to a half marathon at the Run to Remember this May.

R's new shoes,
taken, without permission, from her blog

The thing I wasn't expecting is how rewarding it has been to be part of her team.  I mean, I guess it's not totally surprising, that I might like telling some one what to do.  But, it's more than that.  Yesterday, she toed the line at her fifth 5K with a goal of breaking the 30 minute mark.  As I left her at the starting line reminding her to love, respect and then own her goal pace (I'm big into mantras, so far R is still humoring me on this), my heart was pounding.  I was so nervous and excited for her.  This was the first 5K that she was not just running:  she was racing.  

In the end, she ran a new PR by over a minute, but missed the 30 minute mark by 17 seconds.  So close.

I share in her disappointment, but I'm also so proud of the progress she's made.  She has run over 350 miles since last year.  She has run a sub-9 minute mile.  She has confidence in the things her body can achieve and tackles the hell out of her hill workouts.  The way she talks about running has changed.  Her love for running has been kindled:  she is a runner.  It's so amazing to watch this transformation, and I am so grateful that she's allowing me to share in it.

Out of practice

Tonight I ran my first run in 11 weeks.  The running part was glorious.  Everything around it was a little out of sorts.

1. I couldn't find my gloves.  They are completely gone.
2. I overdressed, which I discovered when I wasn't cold as I stood outside waiting for my watch to
3. Find the satellites and
4. Find my heart rate.
5. Forgot to turn on the alert tones on the watch, so no pleasant beeping.
6. Discovered I don't like running on the darkened bike path, even with my headlamp, it just felt a little too alone.

Looking back at my Zone two speeds (peak for 5 minutes), I slowed down quite a bit in December when I wasn't training for a race, and I was getting down on the shin.  Tonight I was right back in it with a pace just north of 8 min miles.

But most importantly, my shin felt great.  No pain whatsoever.  Time to start signing up for road races again.

Game on!

I got the all clear to run today.  It's been 11 weeks, yes, 11 weeks, since I last ran.

But tomorrow I get to run again.  I didn't think I was going to be quite so excited about it.  I mean, I don't even love running.  I've completed runs that I love, but I've also done ones that I didn't love so much. 

Still I was so excited, that when my alma mater emailed me asking for money, I sent it to them.  Let's hope the warm glow continues, but the spending spree abates.

All you need is water

Another entry in the Fitness Marketing Hall of Shame.

Last night Paul and I saw this commercial:

We were both dumbfounded.  Seriously, Nestle, you don't just lose water.  You lose salts.  Gatorade addressed this nearly 50 years ago, and since then, many others have worked on perfecting it.  Not replacing your electrolytes can lead to cramps in the short term and hyponatremia in the long term.

In 2002, a woman died of hyponatremia at the Boston Marathon.  A 2005 study of amateur Boston marathoners found 13% of their sample had hyponatremia at the finish line.
Do the girls depicted on the soccer field actually require electrolytes?  Probably not (a recent study found that for adults who cycled an hour, water or gatorade performed equally well).  But by making a blanket statement that you should just be replenishing your water, you increase the likelihood of hyponatremia amongst other athletes.  For shame.

Lunches

I think my new colleagues must think all I do is eat.  I'm starving by 11am, so I usually have my lunch at 11:30.  At 3 then, it's time for a snack, usually cottage cheese and triscuits.  I swear it feels like I'm always eating.

I never thought I'd say this, but I'm missing the cafeteria at HLS.  The 'Hark' (as it was referred to by old-timers like myself) always had a hot meal bar, that was by weight.  I could get protein, veg and grain for about $5.  And if I was feeling down, there was mac and cheese every day.  Around Kendall, the options seem to be $8 sandwiches or $8 salads.  Both usually a bit larger and pricier than I'd prefer.  So, I'm bringing my lunch.

Here are two of my lunch recipes.  The first is one I've been making for a while that I probably make twice a month.  The second I made for the first time last week and was pleasantly surprised with the results.

Grilled turkey salad

I was writing this recipe up to submit to a friend's blog and realized I hadn't put it up on my own blog.  I put this together on a sunday afternoon and bring portions for lunch for the following week.  I like arugula for this purpose cause it seems to hold up to being part of the salad for a week, but I've also used wilted spinach.  Actually, I tend to use this as a base make substitutions based on what's in the pantry.  I've made it with barley instead of quinoa, with lemon juice instead of sherry vinegar, and I add raw corn when it's in season.  In general there's not a lot of cooking, but there is a fair amount of chopping.  I usually spend about an hour prepping.

1 pound grilled mediterranean turkey breast from whole foods deli (sorta cheating, I know, but this is so easy, it's cooked and sliced into thick slabs, all I have to do is dice)
1/2 C uncooked quinoa
3 scallions
1/3 C dried cranberries
1/2 of a package of arugula
1/3 C slivered almonds
1 onion diced
5oz feta cheese
small shallot
sherry vinegar
olive oil

1. Cook quinoa according to package.
2. Caramelize onion.
3. While those cook, dice turkey breast, thinly slice scallions.
4. Combine turkey, scallion, cranberries, almonds, arugula, and feta.
5. Mince shallot and combine with sherry vinegar and let sit for at least 10 minutes.
6. When quinoa and onion are ready, cool and mix with rest of salad.
7. Add olive oil to shallot vinegar, shake, then top salad with dressing.


Squash, black bean and chorizo chili


I started with this recipe from Sweet and Savory Kitchens, but made a few adjustments of my own.

1 butternut squash
Cinnamon, cayenne and salt.
4 soft chorizo sausages (I used chicken chorizo)
1 large red onion, diced
3 garlic cloves, minced
1 poblano pepper, membranes and seeds removed, cut in ½-inch pieces
1 jalapeno pepper, seeded and minced
1 teaspoons ground cumin
2 teaspoons chili powder
1 teaspoon ground coriander
1 teaspoon cinnamon
1/4 C maple syrup
28-ounce can diced or crushed tomatoes
2 cups chicken stock
1 tablespoon sriracha, plus extra for serving
1 bay leaf
1 large can of black beans, drained and rinsed (2 cups)

1.  Slice butternut squash into 1/2 inch pieces, sprinkle with cinnamon, cayenne and salt, and roast on a greased cookie sheet for 20 minutes at 400, flipping half way through.
2.  Brown sausages in a dutch oven, remove from pot, and once cool, slice into 1/2 inch pieces.
3.  Add onion to dutch over and brown for 5 minutes, add garlic and peppers and sautee for 3 minutes, add spices and let bloom for one minute.
4.  Add tomatoes, chicken stock, maple syrup, sriracha, bay leaf and simmer for 15 minutes.
5.  Dice butternut squash, add squash, sausage, and black beans.  Simmer for 15 minutes.
6.  Serve with a little feta cheese.

Normal

Despite what my mother said about being special, I am apparently normal.  Very normal.  (Too normal?)

I've gotten the results back from the initial rounds of blood work and bone scans for the clinical trial.   My bone density, although slightly below average, is within a normal range.  My calcium, normal.  My BMI, normal.  My kidneys and liver, normal.  My body fat percentage, normal.  Pretty much, straight across the board things look as they should.  Not that I'm disappointed with those results at all.  Just means, stay the course.

To tell you the truth, I was a little surprised that the body fat percentage.  I had had it measured 2.5 years ago, and it's pretty much the same.  Although I'm definitely more active now than I was then, I've still put on my "winter coat" this year, as I do every year.  The good news is I should still be in a healthy range when racing season comes along.

The scans of the print outs of the scans don't really do much justice to the Dexa.  As far as I can tell, they are showing bone, lean and fat.  Who knew I had such a fat head?  (Don't answer that.) 

Fun fact:  My left side is fatter than my right, both in absolute terms and percentage-wise. 

I have one more dexa scan at the end of the study, so it will be interesting to compare the results.

One more thing.  Full disclosure:  I am getting paid to participate.  There will be $200 if I complete the study.

Guinea pig

Shin update.  I saw the specialist, I had an MRI, I have what's called a "stress reaction," which I'm told is swelling in the bone and a precursor to a stress fracture.  Treating it like a stress fracture was the right thing to do, and it's what I continue to do.  I've got about 2.5 more weeks before I go back to the doc to hopefully be cleared to run again.

A few weeks back I got an email about a clinical study looking for women with stress fractures.  They're studying the utility of an osteoporosis drug in speeding the recovery process.  I was intrigued.  I mean, I like the possibility of it speeding my recovery, and it's science.  SCIENCE!  But, it's also an experiment in which I am the guinea pig.

I talked it over with Paul and my coach.  We discussed the risks.  I brought it up with my friend who works at a biotech and does lots of work with clinical study results.  She asked around and found that the drug has had good results in the 12 years it's been on the market for osteoporosis and very few, and manageable, side effects.  So... I signed up.  After all, it's SCIENCE!

As part of the trial, I got to get a full body dexa scan to measure bone density and body composition as well as   another scan that involved many letters that looks at the mineral content of my bones as well.  I'll get to see the outputs of these scans, soon.  The downside is that the drug has to be taken daily, and it's an injection.  I was a little trepidatious, but it's not bad.  The needle seems even smaller than an acupuncture needle.  And, honestly, I do painful stuff to my body everyday.  Hello, eyebrow plucking!

It's been a week, and so far so good.  No side effects, and my shin is feeling 100%.  Here's to hoping I'm one of the lucky guinea pigs.

Coconut Mangoons

I went to a tropical themed party this weekend.  My contribution:  coconut mangoons.  I had some leftover desiccated coconut from making lamingtons for Australia Day.  And I wanted to make something vegetarian.  And you really can't go wrong with cream cheese.  I baked them, and the sugar from the mango slightly carmelized and came out delicious.  I give you:

Coconut Mangoons
~ 2 mango, diced (I used frozen mango cause I couldn't find ripe ones)
1 scallion, thinly sliced
desiccated coconut (unsweetened) (I shook in a bunch, maybe 3T)
cayenne and salt to taste
juice from half a lime
cream cheese
wonton wrappers

Mix up the first 5 ingredients to make a salsa.  Put ~1/2t of cream cheese in a wrapper, add about 4 dices of mango salsa.  Moisten the edges of the wonton and fold over to close.  Spray lightly with oil, and bake for 12-15 minutes at 425.

BTT ITT Race Report

Last weekend, I participated in my very first Indoor Time Trial.  Two years ago, I didn't sign up cause I was nervous about it.  During the ITT, your bike is hooked up to a computer that projects where you are relative to the others in your heat.  Somehow it's just so much more exposed than racing.  Last year I signed up, but I got sick a few days beforehand and couldn't race. 

But this year, I finally did it.  Here's how the ITT works for the uninitiated.  We set up 16 trainers that are computerized and hooked up to screens that show you where you are relative to the other competitors in your heat.  Like this:

The course is the last 6 miles of the Boston Marathon, but in reverse.  So it's mostly uphill.

Coach Alan had planned a nice consistent power to hold for the first 5 miles, then continually increase during the last mile.  I started out in the wrong gear.  Typically, when I do trainer rides, I ride in my small chainring (the easier gear in the front).  Usually, when I ride on the road I ride in the big chain, but on the trainer, I can get the heart rate, cadence and power right in the small one.  Unfortunately, I started in the small chain and had to switch it up to the big chain shortly thereafter.

From there though, it got good, and the miles peeled off.  I wasn't in the lead pack, so the announcer was never on me.  I just got to get in my groove and go.  At mile 5, I started picking up the power a bit.  And then it was over.  I felt like I had a little too much left in the tank.  But always better to have too much left than not enough.  Can't wait for the next one.

Wedding planning sucks

I read somewhere about the five phases of wedding planning. They were something like:

1. Elation!
2. Fuck this.
3. Fuck me.
4. Fuck it.
5. Acceptance.

I seem to be stuck between steps 2 and 3.

A love letter to Berkman

For the last two and half years, I've work at the Berkman Center.  It's a unique place, and it can be difficult to describe.  When asked what I do, I usually stammer "I work at a research center at Harvard... we study the Internet...  I do project management there... so, you know, grant proposals, research assistants, final reports, but also web development projects, ...oh, and graphs."  But it's really so much more than that.

Berkman is the kind of place where "Berk" becomes a modifier.  Interns become Berkterns.  Interviewees are evaluated on their Berkiness.  Employees celebrate their Berkiversaries.  It's a place where knowing your meme is part of your job, and most parties devolve into watching funny videos on youtube.  (If you've never seen the literal version Total Eclipse of the Heart, please do so now.  I'll wait.  Done?  Ok.  How great was that?!)  I guess what I'm saying is that Berkman is a family (in addition to being a fine academic institution) with all the quirks and privileges that come with that.

For a variety of personal and professional reasons, I've decided it's time to move on.  Next week, I'll start my new role at Akamai as a Program Manager working in Media Optimization (I'm not entirely sure what that means either).  The decision has not been an easy one.  I keep using words like "ambivalence" and "bittersweet" to describe the move, but neither of them quite capture what I'm feeling.

My coworkers here aren't making it easy to leave either.  In addition to kind words, congratulatory emails, delicious, celebratory meals and many hugs, I arrived on Tuesday to find this on our whiteboard:

Yes, that is a list of ways to persuade or coerce me to stay, and several of them do involve turning my own coach against me.

Today is my last day, and I'm filled with incredible gratitude toward this place.  For taking me on in the first place, for welcoming me to the family, for sharing your enthusiasm with me.  Although I won't be far away, I'm  leaving the Madame GrumpyPants tiara to the Belfry to remember me by.  Use it well.

Thank you, and I'll see you at Berryline.