A Change of Plans

It's an ill plan that cannot be changed.

-Latin proverb

Supermoon over our house May 5, 2012

Seven days ago I would not have written this post. Actually, seven days ago I couldn't find an uncluttered horizontal surface on which to put my laptop, so I couldn't have written this post even if I'd had a mind to. Which just goes to show how much can happen in a week.

Something's been wrong for awhile. I couldn't put my finger on exactly what was wrong, but I've had the overwhelming desire to hide under a blanket in a dark room. Physically, I'd recovered from the flu except for a lingering cough, but my neck and shoulder had seized up for no apparent reason and my cervical vertebrae were painfully out of alignment. Plans for the yoga studio came together, and then fell apart, then came together again. My father was hospitalized briefly. The house fell into disarray. I napped. I blew off almost all my triathlon training but daily played with the training plan in my calendar trying to find a way to fit 4 hour bike rides in between the other things I wanted to do this summer.

Then, this week, the universe sent the perfect storm of self-care. I had an incredible first experience with acupuncture at the Acupuncture Studio in Glens Fall, New York. The physical release enabled my chiropractor to do a really good adjustment a couple of days later and I am now almost pain-free. That, plus a Reiki session, followed by a Reiki share with a great group of practitioners at the studio, created a big energetic shift. I feel like I can think clearly for the first time in months.

The storm kept building. I finished the inspiring book Wild by Cheryl Strayed, a Women's Adventure Magazine book club suggestion. I watched the equally inspiring movie The Way with Martin Sheen. I had a great talk with my life coach. I cleaned the house. And, last night, I stood outside at 11:30 pm while my husband tried to get a perfect picture of the big full moon, soaking in all the energy flowing down.

When I came inside I laid my moonstone pendant on the windowsill to absorb some of that energy - the pendant I had been wearing when I labored and gave birth to my son - and as I held it I realized that the training required to complete a 70.3 mile triathlon conflicted with other things I valued: freedom, adventure and time with my boy. By the time I woke up this morning the decision was made: I would switch to the Olympic-distance triathlon and enjoy my summer.

A huge weight lifted off of me. I shed a few tears for a dream that I was letting go. I felt like a quitter, briefly, but when I made the plan to do that race at the beginning of the year I didn't know what was coming: changes to the yoga studio's business plan and a flurry of activity around that, weeks of illness and injury, a new venture, and, most recently, the decision to homeschool my son beginning in September and the preparation that would require.

The Yoga Sutras tell us that we must practice compassion toward the suffering (1:33) and I often remind my yoga students that we must begin with compassion towards ourselves. I've been forgetting to apply that to my own life lately. Dropping the race is the most compassionate thing I could do for myself right now, even if it means feeling a bit foolish because I told so many people I was doing it.

Oh well. Sometimes the best plans are plans that change.

Why Not Dream?

I was wondering...After a long Christmas night in the fog and cold, did Rudolph's nose crack and peel? Or is there a reindeer moisturizing secret? Because after three days of nearly continuous nose-blowing, I look like Rudolph and I can't find a remedy that doesn't burn when I put it on. And I've suffered enough.

Just when I was feeling better after a month of yuckiness, I got "the cold" that seems to be going around the entire Northeast. It's nasty and sneaky. I, like others who've had it, got a "little touch of something" that started to go away after a week, then, "bang," the real germs attack. The ensuing running nose was so bad that I took a day off from teaching yoga.

Image via Wikipedia

Needless to say, the training drought continues. I am doing some strength training in preparation for and while teaching a new yoga and weights class I added to the yoga studio's schedule (The class is called Yoga Body Shop and for those in the area you can find it on the schedule if you're interested in trying it.), but the treadmill and bike trainer are gathering dust while I spend time in bed, snuggled under the covers with my humidifier and a jar of VapoRub.

Since I'm in bed anyway, why not dream? I've been dreaming of the upcoming race season. It's going to look like this:

Saturday, April 7th:  Glens Falls Rotary 5K at SUNY Adirondack in Queensbury, NY. Just to shake out my legs and give me an incentive to get back to training. (There's a good article at Beginner Triathlete about getting out of training droughts here.) This race, coincidentally, marks the end of the winter training plan that I have been neglecting to follow and, after an unstructured easy week, the start of my half-ironman training plan.

Sunday, May 20th:  The New York/Vermont Champlain Bridge 5K in Crown Point, NY. This is the coolest 5K I've ever seen. As part of a weekend celebrating the opening of the new Champlain Bridge, we get to run 5K over the bridge, from New York to Vermont. How many 5Ks take you from one state to another? Plus we get to run on a brand-new bridge that was designed by an engineer who grew up in Schroon Lake.

Saturday, June 30th:  North Country Triathlon in Hague, NY. I'm returning to the scene of my very first triathlon for a third go at the sprint-distance race. I considered the olympic-distance race, but I don't think I can get enough swim time after the lake melts (and warms up to a reasonable temperature) to be ready for the longer swim. Besides, there is a hill in the sprint bike course that needs to be taught a lesson.

Wednesday, July 4th:  Montcalm Mile in Ticonderoga, NY. Just for some Independence Day fun during the summer when I normally can't take time off from teaching yoga to race.

Sunday, September 2nd:  BIG George Triathlon in Lake George, NY. My first half-ironman distance triathlon! 70.3 miles! Enough said.

Sunday, September 23rd:  Adirondack Distance Festival Half-Marathon in Schroon Lake, NY. Third year in a row for my hometown race, this time on my 45th birthday. Finishing under 2:10 would be a nice birthday present, and a nice end to my race season.

I've also been dreaming about the new road bike I'm going to buy when our tax refund arrives. My 1970's Schwinn 10-speed is retiring from triathlon. I haven't made the final decision on a bike yet, but I'm close. Pictures will be posted.

During rare moments when I'm not spending my bed rest dreaming of riding 56 miles on my new bike, I'm thinking about my ongoing battle with nutrition. I've decided to follow the plant-based nutrition plan in Brendan Brazier's book Thrive, almost. (I get very spacey without any animal protein and I'm not sure I can live for long without cheese, so I'm going to have some occasionally.) While I know what foods I should be eating, like training I eat better when I'm following a specific plan so I don't have to think too much. What Brendan suggests is close to the diet I followed when I did a week-long cleanse with Leslie Hadley of EveryBODY Wellness last fall, only geared towards supporting endurance sport training. After that week I felt great, so I'm excited to see how it works long-term.

The biggest dream? An entire season of feeling good and staying healthy. I plan to start on that dream right after I stop coughing.

December 5 - Sueno (Dream)

What was your dream come true in 2011? What is your wildest dream for 2012?

Ah, my dream come true is easy to pick out. Last spring I moved a pile of yoga mats out of a church basement and into a rented storefront - my very own yoga studio. It had been my dream for 2011 to find new space to teach yoga, space that was mine, decorated as I wanted it to be. And I did it.

My wildest dream for 2012? That's tougher. The universe has been pretty kind to me the last few years so I know if I put something out there it just may happen. That means making sure my wildest dream is something I really want.

Okay, here it goes...

My wildest dream for 2012 is for the Adirondacks to get a sudden influx of yoga teachers, one or two of which will settle in Schroon Lake and teach at my studio. More teachers would mean more time for me to focus on private clients and personal training, spend time with my daughter before she goes off to college, and train for a wild dream from 2011 that didn't happen because the yoga studio dream came true - a half-Ironman distance triathlon.

There, I said it. It's out there. On mile 40 of the bike, when my legs feel like they're going to fall off, I'll remember this post...

Having the Heart to Go Faster

Image via Wikipedia

After I abandoned the 10K Turkey Trot I had planned for Thanksgiving Day, I decide to participate in Daily Mile's virtual 5K. We got almost a foot of snow the day before, so my 3.1 miles was on the treadmill. If you've been following my progress, you know the fastest per mile pace I'd been able to sustain on the treadmill is 11:07. Not particularly impressive, but I worked hard for that (or so I thought). My goal for last week was to get below 11 minute miles.

I completed my treadmill 5K in 33 minutes, making my new pace to beat 10:33. Still not particularly impressive, but better.

I am not a fast runner. In fact, I'm pretty darn slow considering I've been working on it for three years. Outside I could blame my slow pace on the Adirondack hills, but on the treadmill there is no excuse. I've just never really challenged myself to go faster.

It's hard for me to judge exactly how much effort I should be putting into my runs. I've been estimating my intensity on how I feel and, honestly, I can be a bit of a wimp.

When I first started my triathlon training I asked for, and received, a heart rate monitor for Christmas. It's been a cool toy to have, but I had no idea how to use it effectively and I ended up just wearing the watch part for the stopwatch.

To prepare for my triathlon comeback year, I decided it's time to stop being a wimp and figure out how to get faster. Most of the training plans I checked out were heart rate based.

Hmmm.... Could it be time to put that monitor to use?

After doing some research, I ended up selecting a plan that combined heart rate training with other skill-building stuff. Just a few days in, I have to admit that I've surprised myself. I can train faster and harder than I believed I could. Yesterday's run included six 30 second strides, during which I pushed the treadmill speed higher than it has ever gone. For the last 30 seconds I ran a 7:36 pace. I had no idea I could do that.

And my heart rate monitor said I still had more to give. Yipes.  

Sadhana and Snow Days

Image via WikipediaWhat was supposed to have been mostly rain with some accumulating snow overnight turned into the biggest snow storm of the year.  Yesterday morning's rain turned to snow at 1:00 pm and it hasn't stopped coming down yet.  The wind has blown the 18 or more inches of snow into big drifts.  That groundhog from Pennsylvania doesn't know anything about North Country winters.  When Punxsutawney Phil wasn't seeing his shadow, our groundhogs were still fast asleep in their burrows.  Winter never leaves here early.

The county declared a state of emergency, the schools closed, and I was forced to cancel today's yoga classes.  It's a snow day - a day to stay home, goof off, drink hot chocolate and play in the snow.  Or is it?

One thing I've learned about running my own business is there's always something to do.  More often than not, there's more to do than there is time to do it.  I struggle to find the proper balance between doing too much and neglecting the rest of my life, and doing too little and letting undone work pile up.

While in yoga teacher training I wrote a paper on the yogic concept of Sadhana.  Sadhana is a systemized spiritual practice with the goal of attaining some level of spiritual realization.  It is choosing something to practice, doing it regularly, and finding enlightenment, or receiving insight, or doing a handstand.  Directly translated, Sadhana means "discipline."

The difference between doing something every day and Sadhana is the intention.  Without an aspiration, a goal, what you do regularly is just part of a routine, like brushing your teeth every morning.  It is the difference between showing up at work every day because if you sit there for eight hours you'll get paid and working hard for little money because if your research succeeds the alternative fuel source you develop will save the world from global warming.  It is the difference between hopping on your yoga mat when you feel like doing yoga and rolling out your mat every day, at the same time, and practicing every asana on your list for a month, or a year, or five years.

Life in an ashram revolves around Sadhana.  Ashram-dwellers have the same schedule every day, practicing over and over until they get to some higher spiritual place.  They are totally committed to their aspirations and put the rest of life aside until they reach their goals.

Ashrams don't have snow days.

Most of us haven't renounced the rest of our lives for our Sadhana.  We are what the yogis call "householders" - the people who go to work, raise families, cook, clean, wash laundry and, some days, shovel snow in addition to their yoga practice.  I am lucky because teaching yoga classes is part of my practice of yoga, but there is plenty about running a yoga studio that isn't.  Working Sadhana into an already busy life takes a great deal of, well, discipline.

My twitter and blogger friend Kelly is one of the most disciplined triathletes I know.  She is a wife, a mom to a child with special needs, a musician, a teacher, and trains consistently and passionately for her races.  Each week she blogs her training numbers and reminds me that I am supposed to be getting on the treadmill myself.  Yesterday, her blog entry was less about training and more about some family struggles she faced that required her to skip some of that training.  It reminded me that sometimes I have to let the balls of Sadhana drop so I can hug my kid.  That's what it means to be a householder.

So what do I do with this snow day?  Should I be disciplined and declare a work day, because that's what I would be doing if it hadn't snowed?  Or do a take advantage of the unexpected time at home with my family and make some hot chocolate?

As of now, my plan is for alittle of both.  With an extra hug or two thrown in.

Side note:  I have just completed the first week of triathlon training during which I completed every workout I was supposed to since my race season ended last September.  After recovering from last fall's knee injury it was difficult to get going again, and I am paying for my lack of consistency by running very, very slowly.  I'm glad I have six months before the Big George half-iron distance triathlon.

Thanks to the #365yoga crowd on twitter, my home asana and meditation practice has gotten much more consistent.  There is a snippet of ashram-life on twitter - community.  It's much easier to be disciplined in a group.

This morning, while my family was having a snow day sleep-in, I road my bike on the trainer in the basement and did my yoga and meditation practice.  Sadhana was not completely lost in the snow drifts.

Coalescence

Image by Camera Slayer via Flickrco-a-lesce -verb 1. to blend or come together; 2. to grow together or into one body

2010 was a year of growth. My energy expanded in many directions. Small ideas got bigger. I learned and explored new ways to express myself, to take care of myself, to live. Parts of me that had been buried in the transition year of 2009 were rediscovered. And suddenly here I am, poised on the cusp of another new year with all the pieces of the life I want scattered in front of me.

The past few weeks have been filled with reflection and planning. When I look at my dreams and goals like a to-do list, I think there isn't enough of me to go around. I can't possibly complete the list, and even accomplishing part of the things will require so much discipline and hard work that I'll be miserable. Dreams and goals shouldn't be burdens. There must be a better way.

This morning it all became clear with one word. Coalesce. Rather than spreading myself out, trying to reach for all those scattered pieces, it is time to gather them up, draw them in and recognize that they are all just part of the whole of my being. Instead of chopping my life into unrelated bits, I'll blend everything I love together. Yes, there are tasks that need to get done if I am going to achieve my goals, but they can be done with joy by a complete, fulfilled spirit.

So with "coalesce" as my 2011 mantra, I look ahead.

Yoga touches every part of my life, from my own practice to teaching to the philosophy I live by. The business of teaching yoga has become a bigger part of life thanks to some really wonderful students who fill my classes and spread the word better than any advertising agency could do. (You know who you are, and please know that I am extremely grateful.) In 2011 the business will be getting extra attention, so it can continue to grow and there will be yoga classes available for all who desire them. While my creative energy swirls, a more mundane goal is to draw on the bookkeeping skills I have stored away somewhere and improve my record-keeping. My tax accountant will thank me.

That creative energy is going to get quite a workout in 2011. I can't remember a time when I have felt so strongly the need to express myself. I use my creativity to teach yoga classes, but its time to get crazily creative, building on momentum started with last fall's drawing class and last month's knitting frenzy. (Yes, that's what I was doing instead of writing blog posts.) In 2011, I intend to say "my art" at least once. I'm challenging myself to be creative every day and I'm going to explore deeper with the Inside Out e-course in a few weeks.

Speaking of workouts and momentum, I planning a race schedule that includes the new Big George Triathlon, a half-ironman distance race, and the full Adirondack Marathon. In the spirit of coalescing, I am looking for creative ways to incorporate training into other parts of my life (Look out kids. We're going to be doing lots of swimming once the lake melts.) and intend to use all I learned about nutrition and training during 2010 to finish the race season strong and healthy. I will continue to draw on yoga to balance the cardio-focused workouts and improve my breathing and focus.

Don't think my family is getting left out of the mix. Family and home life have been high on 2011's priority list. I'm not a big fan of household chores (Is anyone?) but after living in this house for a year I am ready to make it our home. There are many redecorating projects on the list that will require input and effort from all of us. The kids, especially my son, need to get out into nature more often, so it is my goal to get them outside every day in 2011. As a family, we intend to live as eco-friendly as we can, so we've jumped on the One Small Change wagon, starting in January by replacing kitchen sponges with knitted dishrags and scrubbers. (I did mention the knitting frenzy. See how it all comes together?)

Once the creativity is flowing, it can leak into everything else, like my Parent-Teacher-Student Organization duties (we really need some help there) and my parental responsibilities for my son's Cub Scout Pack. I also took on the job of newsletter editor for our Lake Association and sent my first edition to print just before Christmas. Of course, I will never stop writing. Blog entries and lots of time with my journal are also in store for 2011.

On the to-do list it looks like too much. When all these things are viewed as just outlets for my spirit, ways of expressing the whole of my being, they suddenly seem doable. And I shall do them.

With a smile and gratitude I let 2010 fade away. In 2011, watch me coalesce.

Lake George Triathlon

My last triathlon of 2010 has come and gone. During the weeks leading up to the race I got bored with training, it started getting cold and I told myself I was never racing in September again. Then the race came and I had fun and now I'm sad my season is over. All that's left is Sunday's little half-marathon...

The Lake George Triathlon is an Olympic-distance race. The swim is .9 miles, the bike course is 24.8 miles and the run is 10K (or 6.2 miles). I finished in 3 hours, 30 minutes and 20 seconds. I'm happy to report that, while I'm still solidly at the back-of-the-pack, I improved on last year's time by 24 minutes.

They say that you can't win a triathlon in the swim, but you can definitely lose one in the water. My race must have been a lost cause! According to my training log, I've spent a whopping 3 1/2 hours working on my swim this year (and that includes the two sprint-distance triathlons I did earlier in the summer). I didn't even deserve

to get in the water with that little training. One thing (maybe the only thing, except my friends) that I miss about New Jersey is having a pool nearby. Our closest YMCA pool is a 45 minute drive, if it's not snowing. Even if I could afford the membership, I can't find a way to fit a couple of swims a week into my schedule. I'm not sure what I'm going to do about that. With proper training I might figure out how to swim in a straight line instead of going off-course 5 or 6 times. Anyway, I managed to do the swim in 39 minutes, two minutes faster than last year. I was not last. And I enjoyed it. If it wasn't for all those people knocking me around as they passed me, it would have been a nice swim on a sunny day in fall.

Since the bike course nearly did me in last year, I was determined to conquer it this year. I felt

like I rocked the bike. I was loving every minute of it, even the hills. Unlike the swim, I've done lots of bike training this year - more than 800 miles on the Schroon Lake hills. I felt really strong the whole ride. The only thing holding me back is my bike. My vintage Schwinn 10-speed just can't compete with bikes made within, oh, the last decade. (My bike was made when I was still in middle school. Yeah, it's that old.) Her tires are too fat to fit properly in the transition racks. And she's heavy. Despite her limitations, my classic baby and I managed to shave 20 minutes off last year's time to finish the leg in 1 hours and 36 minutes. That's huge. But I still want a new bike.

The run was what it was. I ran the 6.2 miles eight seconds slower than last year, in 1 hour, 9 minutes and 34 seconds. Consistent, if nothing else. My knee hurts every time I run now, and I was very careful not to push too hard. It would stink to injure my knee training for the half-marathon and then not even be able to run that race because I blew my knee out in the tri. I took it slow (obviously) and was just happy that I didn't have to stop and walk. Although I'm considering switching to walking. It might be faster.

I finished faster than last year. I was not last. I can still walk. I met all my goals.

When it comes right down to it, while I like to imagine myself getting age-group hardware someday, I'm not at all attached to the idea of winning. I set goals for myself, trying to improve my bike time for instance, to make training more interesting, but I participate in triathlons because they're fun and I get lots of satisfaction out of completing the race, not because I have any expectation of winning. (Besides, it's easier to find your times when you're on the last page of the results.) So next year I'll tackle a longer distance for the challenge of finishing and the joy of training. And because it's a good excuse to get a new bike.

Get on Your Mat! No Excuses!

Image via Wikipedia

When I was in yoga teacher training, I did a research project on Sadhana. Sadhana is discipline. It is systemized spiritual practice with the intended goal of attaining some higher realization. A yoga practice, if done in a regular, disciplined way, can be Sadhana.

At the time I wrote my teacher training essay, I was struggling with my personal practice. Balancing family, work and teacher training homework was challenging and, thinking there was no time to practice, I left my mat rolled up day after day.

There are three aspects of Sadhana: choice, commitment and aspiration. We choose what we want our practice to be. It can be as simple as spending one minute a day in child's pose (Balasana), and still our minds will come up with reasons not to. Commitment is how we overcome our minds' excuses. Commitment is just sticking to the schedule.

Of course, doing the same thing on a regular schedule doesn't make it a spiritual practice, otherwise we'd all reach enlightenment by brushing our teeth every day. Aspiration is the thing that changes routine into Sadhana. Aspiration is the conscious intention behind our practice.

Why, you ask, am I revisiting my Sadhana essay now?

If you've been reading this blog, you know that I've been struggling with triathlon training of late. I couldn't get into the rhythm of my training plan. I had lots of excuses. At the end of May, with only a month until my first triathlon of the season, I panicked - and did nothing. I told myself it's only a sprint, so I could muddle through at the back of the pack (again). I was in serious need of a kick in the butt.

Not surprisingly, my personal yoga practice wasn't getting any attention either. I had lots of excuses for that, too. But yoga, being what it is, always calls me back to my mat when I need it the most. Inspired by a session teaching power yoga to a good friend, I picked up the Ashtanga book I've had for years but had never really used. There was one dog-eared page - the page with the beginners' practice schedule. Perhaps I knew my future self would need it one day. The next morning, I dragged myself out of bed at 5:45 a.m. for 15 minutes on my mat. The day after that I was back on my mat again. After four days I had to get up at 5:30 because I was adding more poses and needed the extra time. I've gone 14 days without missing a day.

(Which is 7 days longer than I kept it up while I was working on my Sadhana essay.)

It only took a day or two for the yoga practice to affect the rest of my day. With just 15 minutes on my mat my energy level went up. I was getting much more accomplished during the day, was more alert and present when I was teaching and, lo and behold, I suddenly wanted to train. Not only did I want to train, but I made time for it. Even through the crazy holiday weekend when it seemed like my calendar was booked solid, I did all my scheduled workouts.

After waking up at 5:00 a.m. this morning feeling refreshed and ready to get moving, I had a good session on my mat then went out in the pouring rain and ran 9 miles. And I felt great afterward.

Sadhana. Yoga's kick-in-the-butt. No excuses.

The Bloody Heels of Non-Violence

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Today I spent 15 minutes sitting in a tub full of cold water watching dried blood flake off my heel and thinking about ahimsa. No, this is not a obscure yogic ritual. The cold water soak was keeping my feet and ankles from swelling after an 8 mile run on a warm afternoon. The blood was from a blister that gave up around mile 5 and failed to prevent the skin from being rubbed off my heel as blisters are supposed to do. And thinking about yoga's concept of non-violence? Maybe that's just where this yogini's mind goes after a fair amount of blood loss.

Ahimsa is a Sanskrit term from ancient yoga texts which translates as "non-harming" or "non-violence". How broadly the concept should be applied has been, and continues to be, a hotly debated topic among yogis. Some take it to mean that we should not harm any living thing and turn to vegetarian or vegan diets and animal rights activism. For others, it is enough to work on not harming ourselves when we practice yoga, being compassionate and caring about our own bodies in the asanas.

So why was I mulling over the idea of ahimsa while I sat in the cold tub?

The endurance athletes I know (distance runners and triathletes, mostly) tend to take pride in pain and injury. Not that we set out to injure ourselves, but if you follow any of our blogs you are likely to see pictures of road rash, lost toenails, blisters, knee surgery scars, etc. We wear scabs and bruises like badges of honor. They are a sign to our fellows that, in pushing our bodies to their limits, we faced adversity and we were tough enough to walk, or limp, away from it, ready to battle our limits another day.

If I'm beating myself to a pulp on a regular basis, am I violated the principle of ahimsa? Can I be a card-carrying, Yoga Sutra-reading yogini and run until my feet are bleeding? Isn't that harming myself? This is what I was contemplating in the cold tub.

Truth be told, I didn't come up with an answer during my icy soak. Nor have I found the answer since drying off, wrapping my heel in gauze and eating the entire contents of our refrigerator (running makes me hungry). All I know is that, despite the sore muscles and raw skin, running makes me feel good. The ultimate result is that my body gets stronger, my blood pressure gets lower and I have a great sense of accomplishment when, like today, I run further than I have before. Perhaps the means justify a non-harming end?

I'm sure I'll be mulling it over more, right after I contemplate how to get the blood stains out of my sneakers.

A New Plan

Image via Wikipedia

If you've been reading this for awhile you'll remember my New Year's post. I wrote about planning out my triathlon training for the year. I had carefully marked every workout in my day planner so I'd know exactly what I needed to do. It was a great plan, except for one small problem - it didn't fit into my life.

Some parts are working well, like my long, Sunday morning run. Usually my mid-week short run gets done. Every now and then I squeeze in some strength training. The rest ends up falling by the wayside.

I can give myself a break on the swimming, since the lake only melted a few weeks ago. I will only be able to get a month or so of swim workouts in before my first triathlon at the end of June, but I knew that would be a problem when I moved far away from a pool. I will just have to do the best I can at the swim, and hope that it's at least better than last year's. (During the same race last year my swim was really, really bad, despite the training, so I don't imagine it could get worse.)

The biking is the part that's been bugging me. I'm bored to tears with riding on the trainer, and the long bike workouts are asking for 2-3 hours out of my day. I never seem to have enough time before I have to do something or be somewhere, so I just don't get on the bike. I can't get outside if I leave it until the kids are in bed. It's just too darn dark out there. Instead, I keep skipping the workouts.

After beating myself up about not being ready for the big hill in Hague in June, I finally had a breakthrough. As of last Saturday, my bike plan is that there is no plan. I've decided I'm just going to ride my bike whenever I can. Fifteen minutes is better than nothing.

I started riding my bike to yoga when I don't have to pick up kids after school or shop for anything too big for my backpack. Saturday afternoon I put my bike in the car and, while my daughter was taking a riding lesson, I rode around Friends Lake.

I'm pretty sure 45 minutes on those hills were a better workout than two hours on the trainer.

We'll see how it goes, but I think it's better than having a nicely arranged plan that I never follow. I suspect that swims will get done in the same way. Once the lake warms up, that is.

Fuel for the Journey

After finishing my first triathlon last June, I got it into my head that I could do the Lake Placid Ironman. Yes, I know completing a sprint distance triathlon does not mean I'm ready for 140.6 miles. I won't be doing an Ironman this year. Instead, I've got my sights set on 2012 - the year my daughter graduates from high school and I turn *gasp* 45. (Oh, and there are some rumors floating around that the world will end, or begin, in 2012, or pot will be legalized that year thus ushering in the Age of Aquarius, or something like that. In any case, it will be an interesting year.)

I'd worked out a plan to get me there - more races and a season-finishing half-marathon this year, a half-iron distance triathlon and a full marathon next year. All I had to do was start training.

Just as soon as I could move.

You see, my body hasn't been very cooperative lately. I've been dealing with fatigue and joint pain, my head has felt cloudy, and I've been in a pretty lousy mood. The colds I've gotten have wiped me out. I haven't been training, nor have I been cleaning, writing, unpacking (no, I'm not finished yet) or anything else I would like to be doing. Even yoga has been painful. I almost quit. I was ready to crawl into bed and stay there.

Fortunately (or unfortunately, depending on the circumstances) I am stubborn. I couldn't just give up. Since we started focusing on my son's food sensitivities I have learned lots about the way food can affect your well-being and I wondered if my body was getting what it needed.

One of my favorite Twitter follows is @holisticguru, a funny, feisty triathlete and brilliant holistic health counselor whose tweets often include tips on healthy eating. In her blog, Tri & Live & Eat Better, she shares some good healthy recipes as well as her triathlon adventures. She really seems to know what she's talking about (and I was dying to find out if she was as funny in person), so I called her.

As a result of that phone call, I have begun a new journey towards a healthier diet. With just a few adjustments to what I've been eating, I am already feeling better. Since the beginning of April I have been able to stick to my triathlon training plan, and I can teach yoga without feeling like I'd like to take a nap while the class is in Savasana.

I have learned quite a bit about food in the past few weeks, and I'm starting to look at what I put in my mouth in a whole new light. What the food can do for my body is becoming more important than how it tastes or what cravings it satisfies. Food is fuel for all the activities I want to jam into my life.

I can't take a drive through the scenic countryside without gas in my tank. How can I run through the the woods unless my body is similarly fueled?

Thanks to some very good fuel, I am excited about biking and running. I can't wait to get out there and move. If I can stick to my training plan, there's nothing to stop me from meeting my goals. You can look for me at the finish line.

Oh, and there are 46 high peaks just waiting to be climbed...

Spazz, with a Capital S

Image by Gare and Kitty via Flickr

I was chatting with a yoga student after class yesterday and she asked me which sports I had played in high school. My answer seemed to surprise her. The truth is, I never played any sports in high school. In fact, I spent most of high school volunteering to play ping-pong with the special ed kids so I could get out of gym. I was not athletic. I was an uncoordinated, gawky honors student. I was a Spazz. (Note the capital S.)

So how does the high school klutz end up teaching yoga and participating in triathlons in her 40s? I've been thinking about it, and, honestly, I don't know. I can't remember what drew me to the first yoga class 13 years ago. Desperate to lose post-baby weight, I made a fool of myself in all the aerobic and spin classes they offered in the gym. Maybe I figured yoga couldn't be any worse. I can say with certainty that after one class I was hooked.

Fast-forward 12 years, and I'm finishing up 500 hours of yoga teacher training. I knew the day was coming soon when I wouldn't be spending one weekend a month at the yoga studio, and I wouldn't be compelled to practice every day. My body felt great - strong, flexible, coordinated. I'm afraid that once I lose teacher training, my motivation will go with it. I needed something else to do.

A couple of months later I was in Colorado for a Yoga Journal Conference. I went a day early to do a yoga and rock climbing intensive with Jason Magness and Team Yogaslackers. Rock climbing was something I always wanted to try, so I figured I could scratch that off my bucket list. (I loved it, and now my whole family climbs at an indoor gym. We're hoping to get out on the rock again next summer.) During the intensive, someone mentioned triathlons. I wasn't paying much attention, but I guess that triathlon idea worked it's way into my head.

A week or two later I found myself googling "triathlon" and "training plan". I can't say for sure what made me think I could do a triathlon. I could swim well enough to avoid drowning, bike around the park, and I'd run a 5K once. Not really what I'd call a solid base. I just wanted to do it, so I did. Twice. Now I get to call myself a "triathlete". Notice the "athlete" in there?

When people say "athlete" I still assume they're talking about someone else. But I'm working on it.

Running and running and running...

Image by Sachmanns.dk via Flickr

Today I completed my last run for the month of October. During the month I ran just over 38 miles. Not an impressive total compared to those training for marathons, but huge for me. In fact, it's the most miles I've ever run in one month.

For kicks, I looked back in my training log to October of 2008. Last October I "ran" 6.7 miles; most of those miles were walking. I had just started a couch-to-5K program, and at the end of the month had built up to actually running 6 minutes out of 30. Most of the comments I'd made read something like "I hate running." It was almost silly, but I stuck with it, because I wanted to do a triathlon.

The plan worked.

Today I ran 3.4 miles, slightly longer than the 5K distance. It was easy - just a short mid-week run. And I enjoyed it. I saw a quail, a couple of deer and a woodpecker. I planned the evening's yoga class in my head. I thought about lengthening my stride, and how I could improve my speed. When I was done, I felt good.

I like running.

One of my goals for 2010 is to finish a half-marathon. Another goal is to do a handstand. Looking for the "couch-to-..." program for that.

Nice day for a swim

...and a bike...and a run. So what if it's 43 degrees?

I set up my transition area for the Lake George Triathlon wearing sweatpants and a sweatshirt and I wished I had my hat and gloves. It was cold! My teeth were chattering as I hung around with the group at the "special" bike rack. Our hybrid and mountain bike tires didn't fit in the fancy road bike racks, so we got a small rack all to ourselves. At least it was right by the bike and run exit.

UPS had brought me a new Xterra wetsuit ten days before the race, but I never did get to try it out. Going into a race with untested equipment is a big no-no, but after my disastrous swim in Lake George in June's North Country Triathlon, I figured it couldn't get any worse. I got into my wetsuit about 20 minutes before the first wave started and I was glad I did. I finally stopped shivering.

When my wave was called, I waded out into the lake and got a pleasant surprise. Despite the wind and waves, the lake was warm! The water temperature was almost 70 degrees and it felt like swimming in a heated pool. My wetsuit worked great, and I really like the extra buoyancy. I wasn't swimming fast, nor was a swimming straight, but I was swimming. I finished the 1600 yard swim in 41 minutes, which isn't fast but was nearly a 1 minute per yard improvement over the June swim, when it took me almost 35 minutes to go half the distance.

I made the run into transition and stripped off my wet suit. A couple of minutes later I was on my bike and cruising along, slowly. I hadn't trained enough for the bike, and my hybrid was no match for the road bikes. I resigned myself to being last, and enjoyed the scenery. It was a beautiful ride through bike paths and quiet roads. I got passed by most of the folks who got out of the water behind me, but I was still smiling from the swim and just kept pedaling. I didn't even stress out when I dropped my chain half-way up a killer hill. Finally I finished the ride and left my bike in transition to face the run.

The run was two loops with lots of hills. Since I was so far behind, most of the other racers were on their second loop when I started. I just smiled at the people who were passing me and telling me we were almost done. I was tired from the bike, but I knew I could do the 6 mile run and just kept going. On my second loop I passed a few people who were walking, so I didn't finish dead last.

It wasn't pretty, but I finished my first Olympic distance triathlon. I've got my finisher medal hanging on the wall right in front of me, and I'm proud of it. I'm looking forward to next season, with a goal of improving my time in both races.

The Other Side

Image by lars hammar via Flickr

Ever since I started this blog, I've been writing about leaving New Jersey, moving to the Adirondacks, completing a triathlon and opening a yoga studio. Now I can say - check, check, check and check.

As of yesterday, all our stuff from the New Jersey house was safely tucked away in two units at Schroon Lake Self Storage. We've got what we need in the cabin and I'm working on making it less vacation-y and more homey until we find a bigger place. I'm feeling more secure, and sleeping better, knowing all my stuff is in one place (or at least one town).

The triathlon was completed in June, but you all knew that. I'm not done with that, though. I'm training for the Lake George Triathlon in September. Being here at the lake all the time has given me lots of opportunities to practice my open water swims. I think I'll do better next time.

On August 1st I started teaching yoga classes at the Schroon Lake Community Church. The church was very kind and let me use their community room for my classes. I've had a pretty good response, despite the weather, which has been gorgeous. After two months of rain, I'm not surprised many are choosing the beach over yoga. I confess, when nobody shows up for a class, that's where I go. I'm happy with the number of classes I have taught, and I'm not wishing for rain.

I'm still adjusting to being in a new place, and trying to get into a routine for the day-to-day things. Although I am no longer working 9-to-5, I am out of the house quite a bit. The schedule changes, so I have afternoons open some days, mornings others. I'm trying to be flexible, because I don't want to spend a glorious afternoon scrubbing floors when I could be in the lake, working on my swim training or playing with the kids. Winters are long up here in the North Country, so I don't want to miss any of the summer. The floors will still be dirty when the snow starts to fall.

Aspiring No More

Last Saturday I stood on a beach at 6:30 am while a stranger wrote numbers on my arms with Sharpie. My husband's hybrid was balanced in a wooden rack between some impressive-looking road bikes, standing guard over my running shoes. People bustled around me, some walking bikes, others clipping straps to their ankles, yet others testing the water. A man spoke into a walkie-talkie about buoys and kayaks. This was not my typical Saturday morning.

Two hours later I stood in 66 degree water wearing a bright green swim cap, waiting for the horn that would signal me to start swimming. So began my participation in the North Country Triathlon in Hague, New York, my first sprint triathlon. The horn sounded for my wave and we started swimming. Thirty seconds later the bottom of Lake George disappeared from view and my swimming became floundering as I fought a wave of panic. My wetsuit felt tight and I couldn't catch my breath, nor could I put my face back in the cold water. Six months in a heated pool had not prepared me for the cold lake swim.

After thirty minutes I dragged myself out of the water. Freestyle had been abandoned, but I managed to complete the half mile swim with a combination of breast stroke and side stroke. Occasionally I floated on my back and kicked. I did manage a few seconds of freestyle as I got close to the shore and could see the sandy lake bottom again. I was tired and knew I was one of the last people coming out of the water, but the swim was just the start, so I stripped my wetsuit off as I plodded up the beach to my bike.

The start of the bike course was uphill. For a couple of miles I pedaled furiously with my chain in the smallest rings and seemed to go nowhere. The slower swimmers from the wave after mine passed me on their fancy road bikes (the faster swimmers had passed me in the water). I kept going. After six months of training, I planned to finish this thing. At an aid station I grabbed a cup of water and asked if we ever got to go downhill. The volunteer laughed as she told me the top of the hill was right around the next bend. Sure enough, a few minutes later I was coasting downhill.

It turns out the clunky hybrid is capable of some decent speed. Hours and hours of pedaling with the bike sitting on a trainer in my kitchen during the winter and rainy spring must have paid off. My legs weren't screaming despite the long uphill climb, so I pedaled to maintain my speed. I even caught and passed a couple of people. Flying down one hill, hearing nothing but the wind in my ears, I realized that I was having fun. Even though I was racing, I was relaxed and enjoying being out in the fresh Adirondack air. The frustrating swim was out of my head. Instead, I was wondering how I could get my hands on a road bike for next time. At that point, I knew there would be a next time.

I was almost disappointed when the transition area came into view and I had to get off the bike. I found my place in rack and left my bike, then turned and ran back out of transition and onto the run course. The sun was strong and the run also started uphill. I was running too hard and felt my heart rate climb, so I took a couple thirty-second walking breaks, had some water at the next aid station, then started running again. It took a couple of minutes, but I found my rhythm and the rest of the run went by quickly. Before I knew it I could see the finish line. Just as it came into view I could hear someone coming behind me. Not wanting to get passed at the end, I sprinted to the finish, slowing down just before crossing the line to wave to my kids and my mom.

A volunteer handed me a finisher's medal while another cut the timing chip strap off my ankle. Then I got hugs from my family. My son told me to wear my medal, so I did. I was no longer an aspiring triathlete. I finished. I am a triathlete.

Monday morning, after taking the remainder of the weekend to think about my race and what I needed to do to get better, I registered for another triathlon. In September, I'll be competing in the Lake George Triathlon. This will be an Olympic distance event, twice as long as the sprint I'd just completed. This time I will be ready for that swim.

Transitions

Back in yoga teacher training, a big challenge was mastering transitions. A good yoga class flows from one pose to another with limited movement, allowing the students to maintain peaceful focus. Too much repositioning or jumping around gives the mind an opportunity to start chattering away, distracting from the meditative quality of the practice. At first putting together a class with good transitions was a daunting task, but, with practice, it started to come naturally. I love to come up with creative sequences that flow smoothly.

Triathlon training came with another transition challenge. I have to master leaving the swim and getting on the bike, then getting off the bike and starting to run. I've been practicing the transitions, hoping that on Saturday I'll be able to get my socks onto my wet feet and that I'll remember to take my bike helmet off before the run. Time counts, so these transitions have to be quick and efficient.

My life is in the midst of a big transition, too. Selling the house, moving to another state, changing careers, putting the kids in a new school - all these things need to go smoothly. Unfortunately, life is not as easily sequenced as a yoga class. There is no opportunity to practice the changes life throws at us. Sometimes there are glitches, and those can be stressful. Life's transitions also come with an emotional toll. Even though I am looking forward to the move, there are people and places that are hard to leave behind. This past week has had more than its share of glitches and good-byes, and I struggled to get through it.

Image by whatnot via Flickr

Like I have during all the stressful times in my life, I'm finding myself drawn to my yoga mat, even if it's just for a quick sun salutation before a run. Adho Mukha Svanasana (downward-facing dog) has been my favorite pose for the last few weeks. I like having my hands pressing into the mat, connecting me to the earth. I feel grounded and stable in down dog, even while the rest of my life is up in the air. My kids like to do double down dog, which really feels great and gives us a chance to have some fun together (and builds some trust, too).

When I look back on 2009, I'm hoping to see a time when I met the challenges of transition with grace and strength, and not too many tears or tantrums. I'm heading into the second half of the year looking forward to a time after the changes, when the only transitions I need to think about are going to get a yoga class from Tadasana to Eka Pada Rajakapotasana.

Namaste.

Negotiations

Image by tattoodjj via Flickr

All the hard work paid off. After only nine days on the market, we got an offer on the house. Now we have to see how the negotiations go. A bunch of people have looked at the house, so I'm hoping there will be other offers too.

This week I started to taper for my triathlon, reducing the time and intensity of my workouts as the race gets closer. I have been warned that tapering gets maddening when the race gets close. A rested body is ready to go, and you have to hold back and save the energy for race day. It sounds like a good time for meditation.