I am not sure where to begin other than simply stating I am slightly angry. For the last six months I have been deep in thesis work up to my eyeballs. I knew these last months were going to be the toughest and I was literally told to put my other life passions (life) on hold. I knew all the chaos and hysteria associated with being a graduate student would not last forever so I buckled down, and proceeded to get to business. The sooner I finished, the sooner I would be free. I locked myself in my room with only journal articles, Microsoft Word, and my research results. It was a physical and emotional, long, dark, lonely, road to say the very least. I only appeared about three times a day to get food from the kitchen and maybe once more to go look at the tomato plants outside in the garden. Brianne left in early May and I was left to finish completely on my own. At that point I began loosing all concept of time and date. Seeing people and engaging in any kind of conversation was difficult due to my isolation. I began dreaming about my thesis too. The graphs and tables were always translucent shimmering pages that floated around my room and the worst part of all, none of the results were consistent! Then I would hear my advisor say in a deep slow tone (kind of like Darth Vader), "Adam..., what do these results mean to you?" It was awful. Meeting deadlines like that can not be good for your health.
Finally it was over. I finished my thesis. But my joy and relief was short lived because in exactly two weeks time, I would need to defend it. This was the finial of all finals. Anyone can do the work and write a paper but you also need to show that you know your shit too. In those last two weeks I studies my statistical print outs, journal articles, and potential responses to questions I would likely hear as if my life depended on it (which it kind of did). It all came down to this. My defense. I either pass, or don't. But ironically, throughout all those butterflies and mayhem the tiny little fire, as small as it was by then, was still burning for triathlons. Then, finally, after two years and catastrophic emotional trauma, I passed, I was free!
That very first weekend I did the Ruidoso Sprint Triathlon and had more fun than I ever remembered having in a triathlon. Although I still enjoy preforming well and kicking butt, my love for the sport now greatly outweighs my desire to be the next hot shot super star. It doesn't matter anymore to me. I just love to get out there with other motivated driven people and have a good time.
After the race I swam and ran a couple of times and rode a whole four days in a row. I felt fitness immediately flowing back into my muscles and I was getting seriously stoked for my new rediscovered life. Then, on the fifth bike ride something horrible happened. I got off the bike and my bum was burning as if a chile pepper went down the wrong tube. Nothing was relieving the pain and it was getting worse and worse. At the end of the day I was just about ready to go into the emergency room. I couldn't take it any longer. It turns out I have hemorrhoids. How the hell do I have hemorrhoids?! I am only 25 years old? Don't only old people get hemorrhoids? From what I gathered, sitting for long periods of time, a poor diet along with lots of coffee is the perfect remedy to fire up them hemorrhoids. Just what the life of a graduate student consists of.
So that's the story. I don't know what to do now. Riding the bike is just too painful, running is too risky (at the moment) but swimming is okay so long as I limit my leg movement. Hopefully things start looking up. At least I am done with school now. Its funny, I have all the time in the world finally but here I am, back on the old lap top typing away.
Thursday, June 23, 2011
Tuesday, June 14, 2011
Ruidoso Sprint Triathlon
I decided to do this race about a week before it kicked off. Talking around with some Race Club friends it appeared that several of them were going to do it and encouraged me to sign up too. There was even a cool cabin I could stay in. The whole weekend sounded like loads of fun and I took the opportunity to register and kick of the tri-season! Unfortunately as race day drew closer I found out that everyone who was going to the race was abandoning ship like it was on fire. No way was I going to pull out of yet another triathlon because my friends were all getting a bad case of "cold feet". If I had to go alone and do it on my own I would. However, luckily Pietre and Deanna were still heading up to Ruidoso for a wedding and offered me a spot on the floor of their cabin. Their efforts over the weekend pretty much saved the day and allowed me to (surprisingly) have a good race.
New Mexico, I learned the other day, has the lowest percentage of open water of any State. This is the reason why the majority of triathlons here are done backwards. It is impossible for 200 people to start in a four lane 25 yard pool so we run first, then bike, then swim. I don't really like it in that order because I have to hold back so much on the run and by the time I get to the swim I am pretty well trashed. But it is what it is and everyone does the same thing.
The run began at 8:00am sharp and immediately everyone shot out of that starting area like a quarter mile nitromethane fueled drag race. I didn't want to use it as an excuse but seeing everyone take off like that and leave me in their dust I couldn't help but remember that in the last couple of months I could count the number of times I have biked or run on one hand. Yep, I was definitely in over my head this time.
The run was 3.5 miles long and around 7,000 feet in elevation (along with the rest of the course). After a half mile or so the run entered a single track trail which circles a beautiful little lake before returning to transition. Entering the single track trail, it seemed as if the race's level of fury dropped several notches. "Blast!" Everyone went out too fast as usual and now I am stuck behind them. That was okay, I didn't really mind, I needed to hold back anyway because I was unsure how biking at such elevation and on such noodle-like legs would work out. Each opportunity I got however, I went around a runner or two. No big aggressive moves, but I kept moving up throughout the whole run leg.
Close to the end of the run I inched up on this rather buff looking dude who was obviously working very hard. I hung back ten feet or so just watching and waiting for the transition to show. Suddenly this fellow just starts weaving all over the road and begins coughing. Then he slows and bends over at the side of the road allowing us to get a pretty good idea of what he had for breakfast. Although I am still a little unsure of what breakfast foods are green.
Finally the run was over. I ended up coming into transition around sixth or seventh but most importantly, I still felt pretty good. I was not breathing hard or cramping or having any regrets on what I ate for breakfast like my friend over there (who is my new hero by the way). I was excited to start the 10 mile bike section. The first half is almost completely up hill and the last half, a white knuckle screaming decent on windy mountain roads.
I passed two competitors soon after leaving transition and I appeared to be making up some ground. I didn't feel super strong but I felt aero after making some adjustments on the ol' Cervelo. Since this was a sprint and the first five miles were completely up hill I couldn't waste time if I wanted to gain more ground. I adjusted myself back into aero position, put my head down, and dug my legs into the pedals causing my hamstrings to scream mercy and calves to burn. When the discomfort became too great, I got out of the saddle for twenty or so revolutions. I looked behind me a couple of times expecting the entire world to show up and proceed to give me a nice spanking, but luckily they didn't. At the turn around the two lead riders were right there but the fact that the course was now a descent meant I could not use the hill to my advantage. I would have to bank on my aero-position, and my ability to read the road and it's tangents to make up more time. I closed on second place, Bobby Gonzales from El Paso, TX, quickly but I noticed he had a bigger chain-ring in front than I did because when I would spin out he could keep hammering. We were both ripping the decent at 45 miles per hour but I slowly began opening up some distance. Close to the bottom I managed to catch two cars and rather than wait behind them, I took my chances and passed them. Yeah, I'll admit it, passing cars made me feel like a bad ass. Coming into transition I accidentally took a detour around the town of Ruidoso, NM adding a little extra distance to the bike leg but it wasn't bad. I was overall, very pleased with my bike.
Oh yeah, now the 400 yard swim. Crap! But before that, I managed to pull of yet another famous Blalock transition (i.e. slowest transition ever by not removing my feet from the shoes before hopping off, rooting around in my bag for the goggles, struggling to get my sticky bike jersey off etc...). Bobby, just behind me, of course was lickity split in transition and also, probably did not detour the town before getting off the bike. Thus, that time I had amassed on the bike was pretty much negated during transition. I ran to the pool feeling like I had slinkies for legs and without wasting any more time, jumped right in. "Wait wait wait!" yelled the volunteers. "You have start from the other side of the pool." Right then, Bobby ran by me. "Arrggh!" I said to myself. "I had a good bike ride, I don't feel like fighting for it that bad, I'm done." I slogged through the 200 yards of hell feeling every muscle fiber in my body ripping and shredding with fatigue, then, because the pool was so small, you get out, run around, and swim the 200 yards again. Fun fun fun!
I ended up coming in third. It was a great way to kick off finishing my thesis and the start of summer and my triathlon season. On paper I was listed as being first however. Then during awards I was called out as taking second. What happened to the leader? It was a little strange. But the best part of all, I got a bear carving! I normally don't like trophies but this one was pretty neat. You just can't beat locally made crafts. Especially a bear!
Happy to finally be back on the bike. (Photo by Joe Coakley.)
I got a bear!
New Mexico, I learned the other day, has the lowest percentage of open water of any State. This is the reason why the majority of triathlons here are done backwards. It is impossible for 200 people to start in a four lane 25 yard pool so we run first, then bike, then swim. I don't really like it in that order because I have to hold back so much on the run and by the time I get to the swim I am pretty well trashed. But it is what it is and everyone does the same thing.
The run began at 8:00am sharp and immediately everyone shot out of that starting area like a quarter mile nitromethane fueled drag race. I didn't want to use it as an excuse but seeing everyone take off like that and leave me in their dust I couldn't help but remember that in the last couple of months I could count the number of times I have biked or run on one hand. Yep, I was definitely in over my head this time.
The run was 3.5 miles long and around 7,000 feet in elevation (along with the rest of the course). After a half mile or so the run entered a single track trail which circles a beautiful little lake before returning to transition. Entering the single track trail, it seemed as if the race's level of fury dropped several notches. "Blast!" Everyone went out too fast as usual and now I am stuck behind them. That was okay, I didn't really mind, I needed to hold back anyway because I was unsure how biking at such elevation and on such noodle-like legs would work out. Each opportunity I got however, I went around a runner or two. No big aggressive moves, but I kept moving up throughout the whole run leg.
Close to the end of the run I inched up on this rather buff looking dude who was obviously working very hard. I hung back ten feet or so just watching and waiting for the transition to show. Suddenly this fellow just starts weaving all over the road and begins coughing. Then he slows and bends over at the side of the road allowing us to get a pretty good idea of what he had for breakfast. Although I am still a little unsure of what breakfast foods are green.
Finally the run was over. I ended up coming into transition around sixth or seventh but most importantly, I still felt pretty good. I was not breathing hard or cramping or having any regrets on what I ate for breakfast like my friend over there (who is my new hero by the way). I was excited to start the 10 mile bike section. The first half is almost completely up hill and the last half, a white knuckle screaming decent on windy mountain roads.
I passed two competitors soon after leaving transition and I appeared to be making up some ground. I didn't feel super strong but I felt aero after making some adjustments on the ol' Cervelo. Since this was a sprint and the first five miles were completely up hill I couldn't waste time if I wanted to gain more ground. I adjusted myself back into aero position, put my head down, and dug my legs into the pedals causing my hamstrings to scream mercy and calves to burn. When the discomfort became too great, I got out of the saddle for twenty or so revolutions. I looked behind me a couple of times expecting the entire world to show up and proceed to give me a nice spanking, but luckily they didn't. At the turn around the two lead riders were right there but the fact that the course was now a descent meant I could not use the hill to my advantage. I would have to bank on my aero-position, and my ability to read the road and it's tangents to make up more time. I closed on second place, Bobby Gonzales from El Paso, TX, quickly but I noticed he had a bigger chain-ring in front than I did because when I would spin out he could keep hammering. We were both ripping the decent at 45 miles per hour but I slowly began opening up some distance. Close to the bottom I managed to catch two cars and rather than wait behind them, I took my chances and passed them. Yeah, I'll admit it, passing cars made me feel like a bad ass. Coming into transition I accidentally took a detour around the town of Ruidoso, NM adding a little extra distance to the bike leg but it wasn't bad. I was overall, very pleased with my bike.
Oh yeah, now the 400 yard swim. Crap! But before that, I managed to pull of yet another famous Blalock transition (i.e. slowest transition ever by not removing my feet from the shoes before hopping off, rooting around in my bag for the goggles, struggling to get my sticky bike jersey off etc...). Bobby, just behind me, of course was lickity split in transition and also, probably did not detour the town before getting off the bike. Thus, that time I had amassed on the bike was pretty much negated during transition. I ran to the pool feeling like I had slinkies for legs and without wasting any more time, jumped right in. "Wait wait wait!" yelled the volunteers. "You have start from the other side of the pool." Right then, Bobby ran by me. "Arrggh!" I said to myself. "I had a good bike ride, I don't feel like fighting for it that bad, I'm done." I slogged through the 200 yards of hell feeling every muscle fiber in my body ripping and shredding with fatigue, then, because the pool was so small, you get out, run around, and swim the 200 yards again. Fun fun fun!
I ended up coming in third. It was a great way to kick off finishing my thesis and the start of summer and my triathlon season. On paper I was listed as being first however. Then during awards I was called out as taking second. What happened to the leader? It was a little strange. But the best part of all, I got a bear carving! I normally don't like trophies but this one was pretty neat. You just can't beat locally made crafts. Especially a bear!
Happy to finally be back on the bike. (Photo by Joe Coakley.)
I got a bear!
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