From Dancer To Triathlete: Part Three Lake Stevens Triathlon

0 CommentsSaturday • September 14, 2013 • by Imei

Tweet

Dance, Multisport, and Triathlon

Perhaps even before Dallas Cowboy’s football player Herschel Walker graced the Fort Worth Ballet stage in 1988, we’ve recognized how dance strengthens and tones the body in ways that celebrities, actors, and yes — even football players! — covet. I can wax eloquent about the many benefits mentally, physically, emotionally, and even spiritually dance has given to me over the past decade since I jumped into lessons and took the stage.

When people ask me what I got out of triathlete training and racing this spring and summer, I can’t help but notice the benefit overlap. Benefits I experienced during the season included:

- weight loss of 15 pounds (and I wasn’t trying!)              - improved appetite and interest in nutrition

- better mental focus and clarity after workouts                 – increased skill acquisition

- progressively higher endurance and stamina                  - increased confidence in another area of expertise

- less “down days”  due to “life stress” or “the blues           – making new friends & building community

- recognition & sense of accomplishment                             – opportunities to increase achievement

 

Two fears that I faced during the season were: 1) fear of the open water swim, and being in water in general, 2) fear of failure. Most of you who have followed my blog up to this point have heard all about my process of confronting and overcoming anxiety in the water, enough to complete four OW swims in race conditions, and over 15 OW swims in large and small lakes in the area. And when it comes to the fear of failure, I know a few of my close friends will snicker. They know that almost everything I’ve ever attempted to do, I follow through and do not experience much failure at all, despite the odds.

The mindset of the dancer is similar to the mindset of the triathlete: with practice, training, and experience, improve your performance until you either win something, become good at it, and/or enjoy it to the point that you don’t care if you win something or you’re good at it – — that is, invest in experiences that are both fun and challenging, so that if the challenge becomes great, you’re still having fun!

At times I have wondered if being a dancer has helped to improve my abilities as a triathlete, especially as I look towards next year’s season. Two things that  come to mind:

1. Dancers are generally not faint-of-heart when it comes to hard workouts. We know that good performances flow from intense and focused practices. We aren’t afraid to sweat, and we’re generally not afraid of pain. If you think dancers are “wusses”, ask a professional ballet dancer to show you her feet. You may notice painful looking scars, bunions, and even bones that have shifted from the pressure of having their foot in a toe box. Ask a pro bellydancer about sore gluteal muscles, low back injuries from repeating a Turkish drop or a deep backbend, or that time a few too many head whips gave her whiplash. Do I even need to mention the guts it takes to dance in front of a thousand people who have cameras and smart phones pointed at you, while you sweat and execute every move by heart while keeping a smile on your face?!?

I have often taken my workout schedule, put them in my calendar, and then ticked them off, one by one, on a calendar when each was completed. If something happened and I missed a workout, it would get placed on another day, and the time had to be made up. No excuses. That included the few weeks I needed to jog and walk my runs while healing from over-worked, tight IT bands and knee pain. In the rain. By myself. Or in the dark. Ask a dancer to try something again, and she will. Ask her again, and she’ll do it again! She might want to wring your neck, but she’ll do it if it will make her a better dancer.

2. Dancers are aware of balance and the “big picture”.  We’re a type of endurance athlete because our dances may span several hours, two venues, or a lot of waiting time between performance. We have to have eyes behind our heads, and a sense of where everything is on the stage, entrances and exits, the flow of show, and what is expected of us. We learn to have excellent timing and synchronicity. On stage, we often have to dance in close quarters, brushing slightly when passing, and moving on quickly if something doesn’t go right in order to get to the end of the choreography.

A triathlon race is like one giant stage production with multiple actors. Volunteers, directors, athletes, and on-lookers often share the same space. Cars and random people can also occupy the race/stage, and I found that my skills as a dancer were highly activated on the race course. I cannot tell you how many time  fast reflexes I learned as a dancer were instrumental in avoiding problems on the bike course, or how being so near other dancers made swimming in OW with 50 other swimmers much more comfortable, whether I was passing or being passed. And like I mentioned in my previous post (Part II), swimming can feel a bit like a horizontal version of Prancercize. Only, the water dancers are splashing liquid in your mouth!

 

Well, I’m sold. Next year, I’m planning on continuing to race sprint triathlons and possibly an Olympic sprint or two (double the distance of a sprint). I’m sold on the benefits, and frankly, it was just plain fun, even through I haven’t reached the level of being “good” at it! Here’s Part II, my race report for the Lake Stevens Triathlon.

 

 

 Lake Stevens Triathlon Sept. 7, 2013 Pre-race Deets 

This time, I wasn’t too nervous in the days leading up to the Lake Stevens Triathlon. Although I had been having some mysterious tummy problems that started a few days before the race (probably due to accidental exposure to wheat or soy), I was relaxed and had taken care of most of the details well in advance. Thanks to a friend and fellow triathlon racer Rachel Scheiner, I had an additional OW swim at Seward Park (note: ew, there was a lot of seaweed!) to practice gliding through my stroke and getting a little more mileage out of the effort. I kept my nutrition simple, and made sure to take in some electrolytes starting a couple of days prior to the race to make up for the losses due to those bad tummy days.

Now, do not laugh. [OK, you can laugh at my expense if you buy me a Gluten Free beer afterwards]. 

Two nights before, Washington State experienced one of its more dramatic thunder and lightning storms to date, logging more than 500 lightning strikes in a 24-hour period. Thursday night, I dreamed that I was in the swim portion of the race when thunderclouds appeared. The air was muggy, it was hard to breathe, and then the sky grew dark. As lightning began to strike, I watched my fellow racers begin to swim faster! We were trying to avoid being struck by lightning, but eventually we were all turned into crispy Kentucky Fried Chicken  Humans. I woke up, covered in sweat, and my two cats were on top of me, shaking in fear as the thunder crashed outside.

After checking the weather report again, I was assured that the worst outcome would be a soggy race, and the best outcome would be some nice, non-intense sunshine.  After packing my tri bag the night before and cooking my breakfast for a quick morning “reheat and eat”, I set my clock for a 4:00 am wakeup, and drifted off into a dreamless, uneventful sleep.

 

Swim .25 miles

The Lake Stevens triathlon swim  was a wave start with my age group 45 to 49, which was larger than my previous swims. Instead of a land start, this one was  a water start.  I decided to start midpack center and “let it ride” (both sides converge to the center as it approaches the half-way buoy, and then it’s a swim to the shore exit and transition area). The swims are feeling easier, and part of it is because I’m actually enjoying myself during the swim far more than my first OW swim race on July 4th. This time, I didn’t spend much time drafting behind anyone; I passed whoever I needed to, breast stroked where I needed, and just focused on having a good swim. Swimming is just dancing horizontally in water.

I can’t say I’m surprised or even disappointed that my swim times have gotten longer, not shorter. Part of me is learning to relax and enjoy the swim, saving up lots of energy for the bike and run.  Another part of me knows I was just seconds off a previous swim time, and race conditions vary. My “relax and enjoy it” tactic paid off for me in run, as you’ll read, below.

Time: 12min 11 sec

 

T1 and Bike 9.8miles

Those people familiar with sprint triathlons will notice that the bike distance for this particular sprint is shorter than normal; that is shorter, but not without some hills. I kept my T1 nutrition simple (1/2 a gel, the rest later before the run), and wore a set of bike sleeves because I get easily chilled. The rain had just stopped falling during the second half of my swim, and the sun began to dry the road.

The course was an out -and-back with a turn around set up at a triangle. I had a fast and uneventful 8.7 mile race including a hill climb on the return, where I passed as many riders as I comfortably could.  Fellow Pro Sports Club Triathlon Team Member Margie Metzger told me on a previous training ride that she thought I was a decent hill climber; I remembered those words, and took the hills on with confidence.

As I passed a male rider, I heard him call out bleakly, “Hey, I just got chicked!”

I have never heard that term before — getting “chicked”. I shouted back, “No buddy, you just got passed!” [Who cares if I'm a man or woman?]

Don’t you hate when you have to swallow your words? At the 8.7 mile mark, I heard a grinding sound of my  bike chain, and then it dropped. Fortunately, I was on a flat road and didn’t get the exciting experience of an unexpected fall. Unfortunately, the chain got caught in such a way that I had difficulty pulling it back into place. Chicked guy later passed by and grinned. A few people asked if I was OK, and I waved them on. Realizing I needed a long and skinny tool or a second pair of hands, I wheeled my bike to the nearest corner where police officers were directing traffic, and I asked one of the men to hold my bike in place while I reached  with a finger and a tool to unlodge it. It sounds crazy, but I lost about ten minutes trying to get that chain back in place! I started fantasizing about selling my bike and getting a “big girl” bike with a good derailer. My demon eyes witnessed me laughing hysterically as the used bike went up in flames and explosions. There might even have been robots in that image. Big robots.

This is really awful thinking, since I bought a inexpensive, second-hand 2006 Lemond to give myself a chance to try triathlon racing without investing big bucks. I didn’t expect an introduction to the sport to be so easy, and relatively, I’ve had an easy experience. I really have nothing to complain about. In the moment, however, I let my mind imagine my bike being whisked off in a tornado, never to be seen again. Somehow, that made it all better. Whatever works, right? And so, I whizzed on those wheels as fast as I could back to the transition zone.

Time: 43min 48 sec [can you hear me stamping my feet and gnashing my teeth?]

 

T2 and Run 3.1 miles

T2 consisted of changing shoes and socks. My last T2 at Lake Sammamish was a bit of an experiment with using a thicker pair of bike socks with my running shoes, which resulted in a pretty set of blisters. Normally, I don’t get squeamish over blisters, but because I was going to be returning to performance dance on Sept. 14 , a blister is a really nasty thing to have, especially if you bellydance. If you didn’t know this, many bellydancers dance barefoot or with nothing more than a pair of thin sandals on a bare floor. Still, I think the next time I practice transitions, I’m going to try to knock another minute off this time.

I also remembered to finish my gel and drink two to three ounces of water with it to flush it down and prevent side aches and cramping. I have yet to learn how to guzzle water, so just drinking water takes time. Just imagine how slowly a cat laps water, and you have a good idea how long it takes me drink water!

Time: 2min 38sec

The run course was an out and back along the lake. It’s a scenic run, and the water was beautiful and clear. My plan was to race the first flat a bit faster than my race pace, run the hill portion comfortably, and then do the “Run home Oscar, run home!” (a reference to my former dog Oscar, who would pull me home on a skateboard) method of  getting me to the finish line. Most of my previous 5K runs have ended up being about 31 to 32 minutes. This summer, I did very minimalist training for the run portion, due to an earlier over-use injury. I had no idea if the Snappy Dragon could pull it off.

I saw Coach Covey on the  course, cheering PSCTT members on. I already knew I was the last of the sprint distance racers on the team to get on the course, and I felt a twinge of disappointment. I asked myself that question I asked at Lake Sammamish: do I give up trying hard and just finish, or do I give it a good push and end well?

A good push sounds more like the person I know. I pushed up the hill to the aid station and turn around point, passing some runners, shouting, “Go Pro!” to fellow teammates, and shouting words of encouragement to the Olympic distance racers, who’s faces were showing that look of  “runner’s mouth” exhaustion in their second loop of the run. If you don’t know what runner’s mouth looks like, I have a pretty good example I’ll send you if you request it; otherwise, I am so NOT posting that one here).

The second half is kind of hazy to me. I kept saying that I knew that I could beat my previous times for this distance, and then stopped looking at my GPS watch until curiosity got the best of me. I looked. 9:05. 9:10. 9:05. Keep running, it’s almost over. There is no pain. There is no ground.  I do not feel my feet. I am flying. My season pace has been 9:45 and 10:00, just to give a reference point.

Is it possible to hit a runner’s high in such a short period of time? If that wasn’t a runner’s high, I don’t know if someone was smoking something near the swim entrance earlier in the race! That was probably one of the sweetest 5K’s I’ve run in the entire year! It felt just like I was leaping, only without the sense of effort. And there was no pain. Just awesomesauce.

Time: 29 min 56sec. [This was my first PR for this distance the entire summer].

 

Total Time: 1hr 32 min 35 sec, 8th place finish in my age group. Once again, neither the first, nor the last.

Someone once mentioned that the sprint triathlon was the gateway drug to Ironman. That made me laugh. The idea of training for the distance sounds preposterous in light of  what I perceive to be my calling in life as a healer and a communicator. Then again, really amazing healers have become Ironman finishers and extreme distance racers, so like most things, I won’t say “never”.  I’ll say, “We’ll see what is in store for me.”

I’m really pleased with the journey, the lessons learned, the pain endured and transformed, and the friendships made. I’m really proud to say, “I’m a triathlete!” and I look forward to the next season, which feels like only a few months away.

 

In the meantime, I’ll see you out on the dance floor, at the restaurant, on stage, at your private party and special occasion events,  and out on the half marathon race course! I’ll be the Snappy Dragon, taking your photo, or striking a pose with a giant set of golden wings in the air, a Reindeer hat with a flashing LED nose, and piece of Kineseo tape on my knee!

 

Next:  Seattle Thrillers October 26,2013; Toys For Tots fundraiser and bellydance (TBA; let me know if you’d like to host this event); annual Doctors Without Borders fundraising activity

Posted in: Triathlon