Braving the elements, surviving the duathlon

A few scattered thoughts about the 2012 Falls Duathlon I raced in last weekend in Cannon Falls (apologies for the tardiness, I was waiting for event photos I could add to to the post):

My running faces look weird

• It would be impossible to describe this race without mentioning the weather conditions. Simply put: They were brutal, among the harshest I've ever raced in (right up there with a 5K I ran the day after freezing rain turned the course into Level 4 of Super Mario 2). According to the Weather Channel website, temps at race time hovered in high 30s and low 40s, which would have been fine if Minnesota wasn't coming off one of the warmest winters on record. Like most Minnesotans, I was spoiled by a steady stream of "sunny and 60" days in March and early April. So when the weather turned south, it was a bit of shock to my system. Adding to the misery was a steady diet of rain and 10-15 mph winds coming from the NNE, which meant that the first half of the duathlon's 14-mile down-and-back bike course was almost directly into the wind. Add it all up, and racers were in for a tough day.
• For me, the weather conditions created an unnecessary conundrum when it came time to figure out what outfit to wear for the race. I initially planned for the usual t-shirt and shorts combo. However, when I checked the weather on race day before heading to Cannon Falls, I switched to a longsleeve running shirt in anticipation of the rain. I thought about bringing warmer clothes just in case (longsleeve spandex, stocking hat, gloves, ect.), but I've always been reluctant to layer up for a race. I tend to warm up quickly while running and once had to take layers off during a half marathon because I was overheating, leading to the wonderfully awkward situation of hopping a fence to get my shirt back after the race (my legs were pretty beat up from the run so it probably looked hilarious). Because of that mindset, I left the extra layers at home instead of bringing them along just in case. Decision-making was never my strong suit at 7 a.m.
• This was my first multi-sport event in almost three years and the first duathlon I've ever raced in, so I really didn't know what to expect. I felt like I was in pretty decent shape for it, but for whatever reason, I had a hard time getting into a regular running/biking training routine. It seemed like I would get three or four good workout days strung together, followed by taking a weekend off the visit family and friends. I did my fair share of 1-hour workouts on the trainer bike and got up to the point of doing 3-5 mile runs about four times a week, but I never worked up to my previous levels (at my peak, I was doing 40-50 mile bike rides followed by 8-10 mile runs). Pretty much all I knew was that I wouldn't have to do any swimming, which I was more than OK with.
• I've never been big on spending a lot of money to be a multisport athlete. I don't own high-tech running shoes or socks, never invested in brand-name running attire and my bike is still the $85 steel road bike I bought from a pawn shop four years ago (albeit with a fair amount of modifications on my part). I guess I'm a little weird in that way; I'm dedicated when it comes to training for events, but not so much when it comes to buying the equipment used by serious athletes. Consequently, I don't expect myself to take first place in race; usually I'm just racing against myself.



I'm probably cursing the weather
under my breath at this point

• As par for the course, Mark Bongers and the staff at Final Stretch put on a first-class event. The race was well-organized and every volunteer knew what they were doing. Final Stretch even had the state of mind to have have coffee and hot chocolate promptly ready at the finish line, as well as extra tents put up to help get people out of the rain. Really, the only complaint I have is that the race t-shirt I got was likely sized for a female (large-sized t-shirts should not be cutting off the circulation in my arms).

As far as my race experience goes, it breaks down like this:

• First run stage went about as well as can be expected. I kept a good steady pace and didn't wear myself out at all. I haven't done a 2-mile run in a race setting before, so I really didn't know what pace to go at. Might be something to work on in the future.
• First transition went smoothly; pretty much just grabbed my bike and went. However, because I warmed up from the run, I opted not to throw on a sweatshirt at the last second. Bad move.
• Bike stage was admittedly pretty rough. The wind started to wear on me after the first few miles and my legs and hands were pretty much numb by the end of it. The lone saving grace was having the wind at my back for the last seven miles.
• Second transition likely took several seconds longer than the first (I couldn't tell you exactly, the results didn't have transition times listed) because I was a little disoriented from the biking and it took me about 30 seconds to take my bike helmet off (stupid numb hands).
• Second run stage started off pretty rough because my legs basically felt like cinder blocks thanks to the biking and cold weather. However, I found a decent group of runners early on and managed to keep a steady pace with them.

Overall, I'm satisfied with how I did. I didn't handle the elements as well as I could have, nor did I train as well as I have in previous events, but I thought I did a good job hanging tough and getting through it. I finished 33rd out of 238 overall, so I can't complain too much.

I guess my mp3 player has a good luck charm

In this world of iPods and digital music, like many people, I'm probably more emotionally attached to my mp3 player than I should be.

For me, it's on the par with my cell phone for outfit accessories. I literally take my mp3 player (A Sony Walkman, pictured right) everywhere, whether it's work, the gym, road trips or bike rides. My collection of songs is relatively modest, but they are with me through thick and thin to capture my mood (currently a "U Can't Touch This" kind of occasion, don't ask) and give rhythm to my day.

So you can imagine how I felt the other day when I discovered that my mp3 player had fallen out of my pocket while biking home from the Y.

Normally, I would've been listening to music and would have known I had lost it. But since it was a high-traffic time of day (about 3:30 in the afternoon), I reasoned that it would be best to keep my ears open to the cars around me and didn't know it was missing until I got home. Making matters worse: I didn't have time to go look for it, as I had to be to work by 4.

Now, I realize that in the grand scheme of things, an mp3 player really isn't that important. It doesn't feed me when I'm starving, it doesn't quench my thirst and it doesn't keep me warm in the wintertime. Countless people make do without music during workouts and long runs, and the Amish have been doing just fine without mp3 players (or electricity, for that matter).

However, that didn't stop me from taking my dinner break to go look for it that evening. It also didn't stop me from figuring out how much I could set aside for a new mp3 player with my next paycheck. Heck, I even debated on making a "missing" sign for my lost musical companion; much like the ones that used to be seen on milk cartons.

I have already experienced exercise without music at my fingertips. It occurred last spring when my iPod broke while I was training for Grandma's Marathon. Since I had no money at the time, I concluded that it would be awhile until I could buy another one, and that I would simply have to make do on long training runs.

"Awhile" lasted for about two weeks, when I gutted out a 20-mile training run in the rain with no music and nobody else to talk to. If there's such a thing as "Workout Hell," that was pretty much it. I remember muttering out motivational phrases and trying to recall all the movies I'd seen with Robert De Niro in them just to take my mind off of how miserable I was.

When the run mercifully came to an end, I ran an ice bath, looked up Red Hot Chili Peppers on Pandora and cranked up my laptop to full volume to help recover from musical withdrawals.

Since I would rather get another root canal than go through that again, I had every intention of using my entire dinner break to solve the mystery of the missing mp3 player. But as luck would have it, I found it in the road within five blocks of the start of my search. Even better: It hadn't been run over by a car and was still in working condition!

After praising the powers that be for keeping my mp3 player safe, I slobbered it with affection (not really, that'd just be weird), promised it I'd never leave it again, put on a White Stripes playlist and went for a leisurely 8-mile ride.

With that kind of luck working in my favor, perhaps my bike can go the rest of the year without getting a flat tire!

No, probably not.

A different kind of fitness goal

When it comes to setting goals, we all tend to aim for something tangible.

If you're saving money for a vacation or a new toy, you typically either have an amount in mind or a date in mind. If you're trying to lose weight like my co-worker currently is (you're doing great Amanda, keep it up!), you would typically shoot for a specific number of pounds you want to shed by a specific date. And so on and so forth.

We do this because it gives us a concrete answer as to whether we achieved our goal or not. If your goal is to simply get in better shape or read more books, the majority of the time it doesn't work out that way. Without a concrete objective constantly reminding you of what you're striving for, the human tendency is to push it aside when other items become more pressing.

In that regard, my new fitness goal is a little unique because, while it has a time frame, it doesn't have a concrete number that I'm shooting for. I'm not trying to lose X amount of pounds, run X amount of miles, bench press X amount of weight or complete a race in X amount of time. Instead, the goal is a race against myself and my reliance on modern convenience.

Confused? Let me explain.

My goal is to bike/run more miles than I drive in my car for the month of April. I will write down the mileage of my car at midnight on the 1st of April and keep track of my biking/running miles as if I was training for a race. At the end of the month, I'll compare the numbers to see whether I succeeded, failed or failed miserably.

On the surface, this seems pretty easy for me. I'm an exercise fanatic and I happen to have the good fortune of living within walking distance of my job, my bank, a grocery store, the post office and Erbs & Gerbs. I like to think that everything I need in life is just a stone throw away, and for the most part, that's probably true.

However, it's not that simple. Several regular destinations for me (the mall, BioLife's plasma donation center, ect.) are located on the other side of town, and the YMCA is located JUST far enough away (about 10 blocks or so) for me to justify driving there when I'm in a hurry. On top of that, most of my friends and family either live in the St. Cloud or Twin Cities areas, both of which are 150+ miles round trip for every visit. Not exactly an easy distance on a bike.

My reasons for setting this goal are pretty straightforward. I'm looking for a new challenge to get me out exercising more and I'm hoping to get away from having to rely on my car so much for transportation, which in turn will hopefully save some money on gas.

I wish I could give some grandiose meaning of wanting to promote a cleaner planet or get in the Earth Day spirit (happening on April 22nd, by the way), but that simply wouldn't be true. I'm as earth-conscious as the next person, but my means of conservation are more practical than making bold social statements. I'd rather keeps the lights off and recycle than buy a hybrid car and spend twice as much on organic food.

I've already told myself that I'm not going to cut myself off socially for the sake of this goal. If I feel compelled to visit family and friends during the month of April, I'm going to do it.

I also won't limit my entertainment options, meaning that I'm not going to bypass seeing a band or eating at a cool restaurant because it's too far to bike. The point of a goal is to challenge yourself, not become a hermit (unless in fact that is your goal, in which case more power to you).

Basically, my plan is to keep up with my regular exercise routine and to start using my bike as my main source of in-town transportation. My only exception for Mankato-area commuting will be for donating plasma, as I'm guessing the bike ride home from BioLife would be a little rough after being deprived of protein and water. If I drive up to St. Cloud or the Twin Cities, I will bring my bike with and try to use that to get around town there as well.

You might be wondering why I'm incorporating both biking AND running into this goal. After all, a car is used for commuting, and while a bike can be used for that purpose, running is pretty much exclusively exercise.

The reason for this is simple: So I'm not tempted to slant my cardio workouts to just biking. I plan on running in a race or two this year, and I don't want to take a month off from running if I can help it. Besides, this is really more of a fitness/commuting goal than it is one or the other.

So that's my goal for April. If you see me driving anywhere around Mankato, be sure to yell at me and tell me to stop being lazy.

Random bike ride brings random discovery

Similar to life in general, sometimes the most memorable workouts are ones that come about spontaneously without warning.

I wound up going for a fairly lengthy bike ride yesterday. I didn't plan for it. My initial intent was to bike over to the YMCA, get a solid hour of weightlifting in and run 5 miles on the treadmill. I figured I needed to start ramping up my mileage and getting back into running shape if I'm going to run the Mankato Half Marathon in October. Exercise is still a regular occurrence for me, but running has been sporadic since Grandma's Marathon in June.

As I was biking over to the Y, I randomly decided to hop on the Red Jacket Trail for a bit. Maybe I was tired of being cooped up in my apartment, but I figured a warm up bike ride couldn't hurt. Plus it was a beautiful day outside with little humidity and (more importantly) no wind. "Days like this weren't meant to be wasted in a gym," I told myself.

Once I biked past Mount Kato and reached the Red Jacket/South Route trail crossroads (where Highways 66 and 90 intersect), I opted to take a right and hop on the South Route Trail. I figured I haven't biked that way in awhile and it'd be cool to sneak a quick peak at Minneopa Falls. "You always bike on the Red Jacket Trail," I told myself. "You might as well do something different."

After arriving at Minneopa, I took my time to walk around the park, check out a few hiking trails and take a good, long look at the falls (sorry, no pictures, didn't plan on it so I forgot my camera). I hopped on my bike with every intention of taking the South Bend Trail back to the Y, but on my way out of the park, I saw signs for the Minneopa bike trail.

Like other Mankato cyclists, I vaguely remember hearing about the Minneopa trail through an article in the Free Press last fall. The trail was due to be completed this summer, but aside from a grand opening event planned for it on the Mankato Multisport Club's website, I hadn't really heard anything about it. Truth be told, I actually forgot about it. As my bike trip destination blog entries would indicate, it's not like there was a shortage of places for me to bike to this summer.

But since I was already at the falls, curiosity took over and I decided to hop on the trail and see how far it went. To my surprise and enjoyment, the trail is indeed complete, taking bikers all the way from Minneopa Park across the Blue Earth River into Sibley Park. It must have just recently been finished, as there's no information available about it on the web, nor does it even show up on Google Maps or mapmyrun.com.

The trail passes under a railroad and the access road into Land of Memories Park, making it a non-stop ride with no traffic to worry about. It also offers quite a few charming views of the Minnesota River valley as riders make their way into Mankato.

This was a pretty sizable undertaking for the parks department. The September Free Press article said the trail was a project 10 years in the making and its cost wound up being upwards of $1.4 million.

However, I'm sure I speak for all biking enthusiasts when I say that the hardships endured to build it are greatly appreciated. It's another beautiful trail to enjoy year-round and it creates an easier transportation pipeline to one of Mankato's greatest natural attractions.

I was critical of using bike trails to get to the falls area when I wrote about it in June because the South Route Trail took a meandering route to get there. Well, there's no more meandering to worry about anymore.

In a grander scheme, the Minneopa trail also creates a much more convenient transportation loop for any cyclist who wants to explore the Mankato area. It links directly to the South Route Trail, which in turn connects with the Red Jacket Trail. On the other end of it, after biking through Sibley Park, it also hooks up with the Minnesota River Trail, which eventually links to the Sakatah Singing Hills Trail. Here is a visual of all the trails in Mankato, sans Minneopa.

If you're keeping track, that's nearly 80 miles of linked trail that provides bike access to the following attractions: MSU campus, Rapidam Dam, Minneopa Falls, Seppman Mill, Mount Kato, Riverfront Park's concert area, the disc golf course at Land of Memories Park, a petting zoo in Sibley Park, the Old Town area in Mankato, and a historic high trestle railroad bridge. That's in addition to everything the 39-mile stretch of trail between Mankato and Faribault has to offer.

That's a lot of sights to see and a lot of pedaling to do.

Packing for RAGBRAI

As my article on Tuesday indicated, the Register's Annual Great Bike Ride Across Iowa is just around the corner. I'm driving to Sioux City on Saturday and the week-long bike ride begins bright and early the next day.

Like any other first-timer, I'm a little nervous packing for RAGBRAI as it draws near. Unfamiliar events, by their very nature, carry with them an unfamiliarity about what to pack. RAGBRAI's website offers tips on the subject, but I've always felt such information is more of a useful guide than it is a definite statement about what to bring and what not to bring. There are obvious items that everyone should pack for something like RAGBRAI (toothbrush, soap and probably a bike), but other items are more optional based on the person.

Do you need three changes of clothes for the week? More? Less? Do you need an air mattress to sleep? Would you want to read a book with your spare time? Is music an everyday necessity for you? Are you planning on going swimming at any point? Should you bring a camera?

These are just a few of the questions someone goes through when packing for something they've never done before. It's been a week-long debate for me as well. On RAGBRAI, you're allowed one soft-sided duffel bag to be shipped on a semi truck from town to town, and I've probably packed and re-packed my things a dozen times.

At first, I treated it like I was packing for summer camp all over again, but I came to realize that it's hardly the same thing.

Unlike summer camp, I'm not staying in the same spot every night, so quick re-packability is something to take into consideration. Another difference is in the priorities of the trip. At summer camp, I tried to earn Boy Scout merit badges; here I'm trying to bike across a state and chronicle the trip. So bike equipment and a laptop (making blogging much easier) were priorities over hiking boots and my Boy Scout book. Cost-cutting maneuvers is another aspect to consider, as the majority of RAGBRAI's expenses come from the trip itself rather than the entry fee.

After much deliberation, I've broken down my packing needs into the following categories:

• Campsite: tent, sleeping back, foam pad, flashlight, pocket knife, 30 ft of rope, bungee cords, lighter, camp chair, large garbage bags (for covering the bike and for a makeshift ground cloth when it rains)
• Toiletries: shampoo/conditioner, soap, wash cloth, towel, toothbrush/toothpaste, deodorant, razor, washtub/laundry detergent/brush (saving costs on laundry)
• Personal: 2 changes of bike clothes, 1 change of campsite clothes/sleeping attire, 5 pairs of socks, rain coat, swimsuit, sunscreen, bug spray
• First Aid: aloe vera, antibiotic ointment, hydrocortisone, hand sanitizer, ibuprofen, Tylenol, assorted band-aids, Ace bandage
• Bike stuff: 2 spare tubes, tube patch kit, tire levers, bike pump, allen wrench set, pliers, bike helmet, water bottle
• Miscellaneous: wallet, cell phone, camera, laptop, book, mini football, box of granola bars (saving cost on food while biking), maps, notebook, watch, day pack, mp3 player, assorted chargers, frisbee

After getting all that stuff collected, next comes the task of making it all fit into one duffel bag. Thanks to wonderment of 2 gallon Ziploc bags, I've managed to compress down the majority of items that I'm capable of compressing. Ziploc bags also help water-proof the majority of my belongings, as it's sure to rain at some point during the week. The camp chair and foam pad are too bulky to fit in my bag, but thanks to bungee cords, I'm at least able to attach them to my bag.

There is also the consideration of things to pack on my bike everyday. It's good to be prepared for anything on the road, but it's also important to keep the weight light and the pedaling easy. I'm planning on carrying the following: bike repair items, water bottle, wallet, cell phone, granola bars, and my camera.

After all that planning and packing, here is how everything looks for the trip:


Hopefully I didn't forget anything major.

Time to break out the ol' bike

It might not be beach weather outside yet, but it's certainly nice enough to bring the bicycle out of hibernation.

With the snow and ice remnants of winter finally melting away, cycling advocates around Mankato are starting to make their presence felt on two wheels. It's a great area for biking, rife with trails, hills and inviting sidewalks for biking (while being mindful of traffic, of course).

Cycling is an activity with a lot of appeal. It's good exercise, it's a cheap form of transportation and it's a relatively inexpensive hobby if you want it to be. And as Eric and Christie Nelson can probably tell you, great adventures can be had on a bicycle as well.

I've taken my bike (an $85 Kuwahara road bike that I picked up off of a scrap heap in college) out for a couple of rides so far this spring. Neither ride was anything special; one ride was to go to work, the other to check out the Red Jacket Trail and bike to Good Thunder. Both rides also ended in rather forgettable fashion: With a flat tire and a healthy amount of walking.

While flat tires and other mishaps will occur on a bike ride (especially when the tubing on your tires has had multiple patchwork jobs done on them, like mine have), this helped remind me of an important step I neglected when breaking the bike out for the first time: the spring tune-up.

It's important to make sure everything on your bike is in good condition when taking it out of winter hibernation. Just because the gears were working properly last fall doesn't mean they will do the same this spring. It's better to get all the tune-up out of the way before heading out for a ride, because take it from me, it's a long walk home from the turn-around point.

You can get a tune-up done at any of the bike shops in Mankato for around $40 (I called Flying Penguin, Nicollet South and Scheels for rates, all about the same), and the tune-ups mostly consist of the following:

• Adjusting your breaks
• Truing (alligning) your wheels
• Lubing the bike chain
• Checing/setting the ball bearings on the wheels
• Checking the derailleur (gear changing mechanism on the bike)

However, if you want a rundown of things you can look for yourself (according to the three bike shops I called):

• Lift your wheels off the ground and spin them one at a time. Are the rubbing against the frame of the bike?
• Lift your rear wheel and try pedaling your bike with your hands. How is the chain moving? Is it getting stuck on points or not running smoothly?
• Check tire pressure and know what PSI you should inflate your tires to.
• Check your breaks while riding slowly. Is your bike stopping promptly when you're applying them? Are they making a squeaking sound when you use them?
• Try shifting between gears? Is it a smooth transition? Is there a delay in the shifting?
• Check your cables running from your gears and breaks. Are they damaged? Are they strung too tight or too loose to the point where they're affecting your ride?