I've come down with a bit of an illness. Two weeks prior to race day, and I've contracted a bug.
Symptoms are strange, and range from mildly unpleasant to quite severe, often swinging from one to the other in just minutes. They include shortness of breath, erratic behavior, anxiety, sudden and violent mood swings, and irrational crying jags.
It's called PRS, or Pre-Race Syndrome, and there's only one course of treatment: wait it our until race day. I have 2 weeks.
In prior years, for other events, I didn't know there was a name for it. I just learned about it recently from a teammate, Karla, who's boss coined it after one of her own sudden PRS breakdowns at work. Perhaps my prior events were only cases of mild Taper Madness, which, despite the alarming name, is much less harmful to the race, and indeed, their entire community.
But this is no simple marathon, no 70.3 triathlon. No, this is the Ironman, and I have full-onset PRS. It's pretty bad. Here are a few snapshots (and one longer tale) of how the virus is affecting me.
Wednesday, 5:15 pm:
Reading the IMLT athlete guide while riding home on BART. Got so overwhelmed by the details, my chest got tight and I had to breath deeply for a few moments before resuming my study. [Note: I also made sure to hold the printout up fairly high to display the logo and title, just, you know, in case anyone happened to glance my way.]
Thursday, 12:30 pm:
Took a lunchtime strength class at the gym, Nike Training Club, which involves lots of jump squats and side leaps and burpees and other dynamic movement. My knee started hurting so bad halfway through the class that I had to switch to accommodating movements, like simple squats and lunges. I started crying right there at 24 Hour Fitness (subtly, of course, and with great dignity and pathos). I used my towel to blot my sweaty face and hide my tears.
Saturday, 8:00 am:
I had planned to ride in Marin, but last minute change in plans made me decide to ride out from my house instead for what was supposed to be a 4-hour OYO moderate taper ride. I got my bike outside and realized my front tire was flat (I had forgotten to pump before leaving, brain all a-scatter). I went back inside and considered my options. I had gotten a flat last week on my Ride Around the Bay. It worried me that my tire was flat yet again. I examined the tire and saw many nicks and small holes. I assumed that something was wrong with the tire, causing these flats. I didn't want to change the tube and then ride by myself for 4 hours. I immediately packed up and headed out for the 30-minute drive to Sports Basement in Walnut Creek.
When I arrived, I explained to the man at the bike counter that "something is wrong with my tire and I need a new one." He looked skeptical. I babbled a bit, using phrases like "I'm worried" and "I just need it to work" and "I need to not have flats." I think I was pretty incoherent. He agreed to take a look.
He didn't find anything wrong with the tire.There were nicks, but nothing poking through to puncture the tube. He asked if I really wanted to spend $50 or more on a new tire when mine seemed fine. I said, "I just need it to work" a few more times, and, "Why was it flat this morning? Please fix it."
He put air in the tube and it exploded pretty dramatically. Apparently, it should have held 4 times the air it took. He told me I had cheap tubes and recommended an upgrade. I bought 3, and I kept the tire. I wanted him to swear to me (on his life) that it wouldn't flat out on race day, but reason returned before I made the request. I left, not entirely reassured.
Now I was in Walnut Creek and my only option (the only road I knew) was to ride up Mount Diablo. In late morning. In a heat wave. Luckily, I ran into one of my coaches out on the hill and turned to ride with her for a ways. I explained the drama of the morning.
Her very first question was: "When you got the flat last week, did you fill it with CO2?"
Oh. Oh, right. Yes. Yes I did.
Suddenly, I remembered. CO2 deflates. You need to re-pump with regular air. Yes, now the flat tire that morning made perfect, rational sense.
Sheepish face.
This PRS is no joke. I have two weeks (TWO WEEKS!) to get through. I only hope I make it in one piece.
Symptoms are strange, and range from mildly unpleasant to quite severe, often swinging from one to the other in just minutes. They include shortness of breath, erratic behavior, anxiety, sudden and violent mood swings, and irrational crying jags.
It's called PRS, or Pre-Race Syndrome, and there's only one course of treatment: wait it our until race day. I have 2 weeks.
In prior years, for other events, I didn't know there was a name for it. I just learned about it recently from a teammate, Karla, who's boss coined it after one of her own sudden PRS breakdowns at work. Perhaps my prior events were only cases of mild Taper Madness, which, despite the alarming name, is much less harmful to the race, and indeed, their entire community.
But this is no simple marathon, no 70.3 triathlon. No, this is the Ironman, and I have full-onset PRS. It's pretty bad. Here are a few snapshots (and one longer tale) of how the virus is affecting me.
Wednesday, 5:15 pm:
Reading the IMLT athlete guide while riding home on BART. Got so overwhelmed by the details, my chest got tight and I had to breath deeply for a few moments before resuming my study. [Note: I also made sure to hold the printout up fairly high to display the logo and title, just, you know, in case anyone happened to glance my way.]
Thursday, 12:30 pm:
Took a lunchtime strength class at the gym, Nike Training Club, which involves lots of jump squats and side leaps and burpees and other dynamic movement. My knee started hurting so bad halfway through the class that I had to switch to accommodating movements, like simple squats and lunges. I started crying right there at 24 Hour Fitness (subtly, of course, and with great dignity and pathos). I used my towel to blot my sweaty face and hide my tears.
Saturday, 8:00 am:
I had planned to ride in Marin, but last minute change in plans made me decide to ride out from my house instead for what was supposed to be a 4-hour OYO moderate taper ride. I got my bike outside and realized my front tire was flat (I had forgotten to pump before leaving, brain all a-scatter). I went back inside and considered my options. I had gotten a flat last week on my Ride Around the Bay. It worried me that my tire was flat yet again. I examined the tire and saw many nicks and small holes. I assumed that something was wrong with the tire, causing these flats. I didn't want to change the tube and then ride by myself for 4 hours. I immediately packed up and headed out for the 30-minute drive to Sports Basement in Walnut Creek.
When I arrived, I explained to the man at the bike counter that "something is wrong with my tire and I need a new one." He looked skeptical. I babbled a bit, using phrases like "I'm worried" and "I just need it to work" and "I need to not have flats." I think I was pretty incoherent. He agreed to take a look.
He didn't find anything wrong with the tire.There were nicks, but nothing poking through to puncture the tube. He asked if I really wanted to spend $50 or more on a new tire when mine seemed fine. I said, "I just need it to work" a few more times, and, "Why was it flat this morning? Please fix it."
He put air in the tube and it exploded pretty dramatically. Apparently, it should have held 4 times the air it took. He told me I had cheap tubes and recommended an upgrade. I bought 3, and I kept the tire. I wanted him to swear to me (on his life) that it wouldn't flat out on race day, but reason returned before I made the request. I left, not entirely reassured.
Now I was in Walnut Creek and my only option (the only road I knew) was to ride up Mount Diablo. In late morning. In a heat wave. Luckily, I ran into one of my coaches out on the hill and turned to ride with her for a ways. I explained the drama of the morning.
Her very first question was: "When you got the flat last week, did you fill it with CO2?"
Oh. Oh, right. Yes. Yes I did.
Suddenly, I remembered. CO2 deflates. You need to re-pump with regular air. Yes, now the flat tire that morning made perfect, rational sense.
Sheepish face.
This PRS is no joke. I have two weeks (TWO WEEKS!) to get through. I only hope I make it in one piece.
Week 43 Mileage
Tuesday, September 3 Cardio - 1 hour (elliptical) Core - 20 minutes Wednesday, September 4 Taper flaking. Thursday, September 5 Swim - 45 minutes, 2000 yards Core - 50 minutes (class) Friday, September 6 Taking taper to heart (flake) Saturday, September 7 Bike - 2 hours 35 minutes, 35 miles, 3000 ft. gain Sunday, September 8 Swim - 1 hour, approx. 1.8 miles Core - 20 minutes | Totals: Swim - 1 hour 45 minutes Bike - 2 hours 35 minutes, 35 miles Run - 0 Cardio/Core - 2 hours 30 minutes Total - 6 hours 50 minutes The kitten story: last week, while the IronTeam rode it's century in Marin, one teammate heard these little babies, no more than a couple weeks old, crying in a ditch. I was roving in my car with water and happened to be nearby. We found a box, scooped them up, named them, and fed them formula. Another teammate took them home and is fostering them until they are ready for adoption. IronTeam Kitten Rescue Squad - curing cancer, saving kittens. |