Monday, March 24, 2014


In a grand act of freedom, I threw away the scale maybe a month and a half ago.  It's a liberating feeling, but for us neurotic people, it's a bit off-putting not to have a number to lean on or beat yourself up with, as the case may be.  I'm going on feel.  I've been doing a Peter Attia thing, low carb, high fat, moderate protein.  His website is  I do daily blood testing for ketosis.  It's been revealing.  I must be extremely sensitive to the effects of carbs.  Even keeping them waaaaay low, my ketosis numbers are low.  Like 0.2 most days.  I feel fabulous.  The hip is still way off, but other than that, I'm getting in good time in the pool and on the bike, and I walk as I am able.

We'll see where this goes.  I'm happy to forego cheap carbs.  To me, they're toxic and addictive.  Besides, I like bacon.  :)

Today is a rest day.  I have a lot to catch up on at work.  Tonight I'll try to get everything organized for the grand trip to our place in Florida.  When I get back, the dog ladies are going to begin coming twice a day, noon and early evening, so I can get straight to workouts instead of coming home & feeding the dogs & letting them out first.  Soooo waiting for warm weather, and also looking forward to taking the new Terry Isis out on the road.

Take care, eat well,


Sunday, March 23, 2014

the weekend.

Kurt Vonnegut used to call the weekend time thing a "chronosynclastic infindibulum."  It's this moebus-strip concept where time bends all back on itself, and you think you had 48 hours, for example, but by God it passes by in a veritable snap.  And then the work week?  Well it goes on forrrreeevvveeerrrrrrr ...

So this weekend I was resolved to haul out Gertie the Greenspeed and putz with her.  Putz I did.  She and I ended up in Oberlin on the North Coast Inland Trail.  Had a nice chat with the only other old cooter out on the trail about this, that, and the other thing.  His daughter bought him a Garmin Edge 500, and he didn't like the fact that it didn't have maps on it.  I told him about Strava and uploading your data, but I guess he'd already heard of it but was concerned about privacy.  I don't care about privacy.  Why would anyone care if somebody saw the route you took?  My only concern about Strava is looking so freaking slow, but at least I'm still doing it, slow or not.

Gertie and I did about 12 miles.  It was in the low 40s, maybe.  I stayed warm enough.  She's working pretty well.   I took off the pink Speedplays and put on a set of Power Grip Pros that I bought from a guy on BentRider Online.  Silly, but the reflectors were another twenty bucks.  And it turns out that the straps are too short for my big feet, so I have to get the extra long straps, and that's an extra twenty-five bills.  Criminey.  On top of the fifty bucks that I paid for the original pedals, this little junket is running up the meter bigtime.  But I need to keep my feet attached to the pedals, and I don't like the silly platform of the speedplays on the recumbent.  Makes for a nice hot spot.  We'll get there.

I got all the stuff for the windscreen, but I haven't installed it yet.  I took everything out of the plastic, and looked it over, and read through the instructions a couple of times.  It's only in the low thirties today, and I'm not working out in the garage with my hands freezing.  It can wait until I get back from Florida.  But it's sure gonna look so cool.  I'm glad I have the Greenspeed.  My hip has been snapping and popping the last couple of days, and I've been leaning pretty hard on my cane, so a trike, I'm afraid, is going to be my weapon of choice this season.  That's okay.  I'm still grateful that I can trike, and swim, and hobble.  :)

I have been looking out the window dreading cleaning out the flower beds, when whaddya know, one of Terry's people stopped by to ask if he could clean out the flower beds for twenty bucks.  Knock yourself out, Zach!  I'm so glad that The Marine does his part to help out the disabled vets.  This guy was an Army guy that got hit by shrapnel in the first Gulf war.  Disabled, but really a sweet kid.  I'm glad to have the help.

Mister Elmo is finally figuring out that if he pee-pees when I take him out on a leash, he gets a big GOOD BOY from mommy.  Hooray!  I miss Izzy, and would be so glad to have her alive again, but it really is refreshing not to have to deal with a half a dozen pee spots every day when I come home from work.  Elmie is getting it.  We have the occasional poop mistake, but generally he's getting it.

Today I went to the Brooklyn pool and sat in the hottest of hot tubs, working out the kinks in my legs, and doing maybe 1200 meters in the pool.  I was swimming next to this really fat guy, and we had a nice discussion about the Catch 22 of losing weight and working out at the same time.  He swims for two hours, and then walks for another hour.  Me, I'm in for an hour or so, and then hit the hot tub, take a couple of dives off the diving board in the deep end, stretch everything out, and get outta there.  It was a good day today.  Sometimes I think I'm actually getting it!

Thinking back about Ironman Arizona, I was reading the other day where, when you're swimming out in open water, it doesn't seem like you're moving anywhere.  I wish I had known that.  Maybe I wouldn't have gotten so down on myself with the side stroke.  Sure, I was last guy, and I started late, and had 500 meters to make up just to get to the start, and these were all things I should have known beforehand, but I think I learned a good deal about the swim, and I can be more rational and sensible about it this time.  I may try doing it with a snorkel.

Anyway, that's about it.  Baking a couple of chickens for supper for me and the dogs.  They were on sale at Save A Lot, where I went to get the bacon, so I'll bake them off the bone & feed the pooches some good stuff tomorrow and Tuesday night.  They'll love it.  Little Elmo is so cute trying to sit for his treats.  He wiggles all over.  It's hard for him to contain himself, but he does try.

Take care everyone, and stay centered.


Friday, March 21, 2014


I am caught in a no-man's land.  Can't walk without pain, even on serious meds.  Use a cane a lot.  A whole lot.  I'm thinking, despite the fact that I bought a 650c bike to help with the range of motion mounting and dismounting the top tube, that I'm going to be doing a lot of spinning on the trikes, and a lot of pool time.  And not much bipedal motion under my own power.

I refuse to be set back on my ass entirely.  I had to put down my old 13 year old blind and deaf basset the other day.  They thought it was a ruptured disk, and maybe it was, but it turns out that she had lung cancer.  When we put her down, she was so sick.  I don't even know if she recognized me, and that was perhaps the most difficult thing, because I wanted her to know that she is loved, that it's okay to go over to the rainbow bridge, and not to be afraid, and to run and chase the bunnies and snuff at all the good stuff, and to see with your new heavenly eyes.  I will miss those soft silky ears, and how she loved to have them rubbed, and to lay up on my leg, resting her head, and snooting for a pat, and always looking for a tidbit of a snack or cookie to chomp on.  She had great chompers, and took great delight in eating her food, morsel by morsel, smacking her great long basset muzzle over every little kibble.  Oh how she loved to eat!  That little white head, all old.  She was such a sweet sweet dog.  We loved to take rides in the car, and in the Iz-mobile down in the metroparks.  I feel like my heart has been ripped out of my chest  I will forever remember you, little Izzy.  You were my little sweetie.  Goodbye.

So I am depressed and so very sad.  I am sitting in a flotation tank for an hour this morning, and then off to work, and hopefully there will be enough light to do an hour bike in the park, but with The Marine in Florida, I have to come home and let out the dogs, which really eats into my time.

Going to Florida on Wednesday to do the Ocala sprint.  That should be a hoot.  I am so unprepared it is truly pitiful.  Will do it regardless.  I feel like Martin Luther beating himself with a whip for contrition and absolution.

I am in a really funny place.  Funny as in strange, odd.  Floating.  Waiting.  Suspended.

I need to land somewhere happy.  Like where Dorothy went when the house stopped spinning.  One thing's for sure:  we're not in Kansas anymore.

More soon,


Wednesday, January 15, 2014

Life is Too Short.

So ever since I DNF'd the swim at IMAZ, I've been rethinking everything.  Everything.  I've kind of been thinking that I'm going to be 62 years old, and my right hip is on a downward spiral.  Whether I finish IMAZ 2014 is debatable from the git go, because of the sorry state of my hip.  The pain management guy is supporting my decision to forego surgery for another year and to just manage the pain instead.  So, given all of that, I've decided to let go of all of the seriousness of the end game (i.e., the finish line) and to begin to enjoy every moment of my crazy life-in-training this go-round.

And here's what it also means:  drinking alcohol if I want to.  Yes, friends, after eighteen months abstaining from the fruit of the vine, I've pretty much proved to myself that I can live life dry, if I want to.  The thing of it is, I no longer want to.  Point made, time to move on.

So, I've simultaneously stepped off of my high horse and back in the saddle.  I'm picking up my life as a schleppy happy triathlete with both feet planted firmly into this training year.

I share this motto with Popeye and Yahweh:  I am what I am.

Bring it.

~~ kate

Tuesday, December 31, 2013


When I did my second Las Vegas marathon, back in the stone age, I was doing Atkins low carb.  My pee, when measured thereafter, turned the little stick black.  Ruh-roh.  So I decided to eat some pizza and have a beer that the sherpa had bought.  It was Super Bowl weekend.  So he got the deluxe pizza delivered to that pyramid hotel, where we had the "runners' special" rate of I think $75 per night.  Ate some pizza, drank a beer, and promptly barfed.

That really has nothing to do with anything.

The thing that I wanted to say, though, was that as I was doing the last few miles of said marathon, I was passing people right and left, actually running (more like trotting, but for me it was running).  I hate having to say that all the time.  I run slow.  Always have.  Always will.  People want to make me something I'm not.  I could do a fast cadence and trip over my feet and fall flat.  What fun would that be?  I could change my stance and my style and just about everything else about me.  But the truth is, I have two speeds:  slow and stop.  It's how I'm made.  And changing is extremely frustrating, because it doesn't happen with me.  I yam what I yam.

But as I was passing people right and left with my mighty slog, I was singing a little tune inside my head.  There were only four words.  My little song said :  "Light, Easy, and Free."  Over and over again, "Light, Easy, and Free."  Then I believed I was flying above the ground, like a dove, or a pigeon, or a pelican, or maybe even an albatross, it didn't matter, because I truly WAS, in those miles, Light, Easy, and Free.

The other day I was doing two laps at Bohlken Park in Fairview Park, Ohio, while Terry was in the car sipping his Americano.  My skinny caramel latte was waiting for me.  It's 0.6 miles per lap, and I was shooting for a big 1.2 while there was no ice.  It was nice outside.  I had on my neon pink Crocs, but I shuffled two laps around, did my 1.2 miles, and rejoined the Marine in the car for my skinny latte.  And I told him, "you know, to any outside observer, I look like a silly slow old woman chugging along in her Crocs.  But inside my head and my body, I am a gazelle, a speed demon."  To which T says, "well you look pretty good to me, Kate-a-leenie."

And I decided that if I look okay to T (who never lies, but he never thought I was fat, either, God bless him), then I'll go ahead and live in my body this year, where I'm a gazelle, and be light, easy, and free.  So that's my resolution.  To have fun, to do it, to honor my own inner gazelle, and to be light, easy and free.  And to shut out the other voices who would kill my fun with their self-doubt, their shame, their guilt, their fear, their ridicule.  Go away, voices.  Get lost.  Scram.  I'm tired of people ~~ myself and others ~~ always blabbing that I'm not good enough, that I'm too tall, too fat, too slow, too old, too broken down, too you-name-it.  VAMOOSE!

I am, in a word, sick of not being worthy enough to live the fullness of my own life.

Henceforth and forevermore, I shall be Light, Easy, and Free.

May it ever be so.


~~ kate

Friday, December 27, 2013


I am so far from a perfect person that it's laughable.  I put waaaay too much pressure on myself to be something I'm not.  And in the process I lose the joy of my life.  If I were to have a focus for the coming training season, it would be to enjoy the moment and to have fun in the doing of the thing.  It's not going to be perfect.  But it will be me.  I intend to have a good time this year, listening to myself, supporting myself, talking back to myself if need be.  I don't really need the outside voices to direct my journey.  I don't need to be disappointed in myself or in others.  This season is going to be an uplifting experience on my journey to Ironman, and I promise to give myself all the care and concern that I need to enjoy the ride.


~~ kate

Monday, December 16, 2013

A New Day.

Starting a lot of this over for the upcoming race season.  I wasn't happy with my situation at IMAZ in November.  I figure I can either ignore my DNF or get back to the drawing board and try to get it right this time.

Trusting the doc at Elite Health & Fitness to do his thing with the K-laser.  My right hip was so sore when I got out of bed this morning.

Adding strength training and yoga to my training plan.

Using Beginner Triathlete for my daily workouts.

Going back to Weight Watchers to get a handle on portion control.  It's not a perfect world.  I don't like a lot of what Weight Watchers does.  But I have to find a way to make it work.  My portion control really sucks.  My big excuse is that if it's no carb/low carb, I don't have to watch portions.  That's a crock.  On a diet of fat & protein with limited carbs from fruit and veggies, I still need to watch what I consume.  Shooting for a pound a week.

A new day is beginning.  I choose to go forward and to trust myself.

~~ Irnwmn