The Princess and the Pea

You all probably know Hans Christian Anderson’s story of ThePrincess and the Pea.  For those who went to sleep during story time, the focal point of the story is a queen’s test of true princess-ness.  The Queen believed that a real princess could not sleep if there was a tiny pea underneath her as she slept, even if that pea was hidden under two-dozen mattresses.  Well, this morning I discovered that I am a princess of sorts.

I got up early to run, got dressed, which includes putting on “special” $10 running socks and my $100 sneakers (I actually get nauseous when I think about how much I spent on this gear, but I will explain why I did it in another post).  My sneakers are well padded and my socks are moisture-wicking, as were my shorts and t-shirt.  I hydrated, stretched for a few minutes and started to run.  Fast forward to .5 miles into my run, when I felt something irritating the bottom of my foot.  While in a former life I would have continued to run, I stopped to handle this issue.  When running long distances small irritations turn into larger irritations, which turn into small blisters which turn into large blisters, which means potential training days lost to healing the blister.  So, I decided to nip the irritant in the bud.

I stopped, took off my sneaker, looked inside, shook my sneaker vigorously and then, convinced that I got rid of the irritant, retied my sneaker and started to run again.  5 steps later I felt it again, stopped, untied my shoe… this time I blew into my shoe, too, retied my sneaker and started to run again… and then stopped ten steps later.  This time, I went through my previous method of cleaning out my shoe, then swept the bottom of my shoe with my finger, and then took off my sock and inspected the outside - I found nothing, put on my socks, retied my sneakers and started again… 3 steps later I stopped again.  I was feeling like an idiot, stopping for the fourth time in eighteen steps and prayed that no one was watching my pathetic display of prissiness.  This time I inspected the inside and outside of my sock.  Lo and behold, I found the smallest pebble,the size of a speck, caught up in my super-sock’s fibers.  I dislodged it with my fingernail, put my sock back on, retied my sneakers and proceeded to run another 4.5 miles with no problem.

The saddest part of this whole story is that while this blog should have been about my 5 mile run, all I can write about is the fact that I stopped four separate times within a quarter-block span because a speck in my sneaker was rubbing against the bottom of my foot, stuck in my $10 pair of socks in my $100 pair of sneakers (pathetic, right?).  To add insult to injury, now, if anyone comes up to me and calls me “princess” (whether they have read this blog or not), I am now obliged to respond, “Yes?”

If the Good L-rd Wanted Me to Swim, He Would Have Given Me Gills

You may have heard that swimming is a great exercise for asthmatics.  I certainly have.  What you may not know is why.  One of the main reasons why swimming is a good exercise for asthmatics is that the air in the pool is relatively clean, as opposed to the air that is available when bicycling or running outdoors, where the air is, at best, filled with the usual crud that pollutes the air.  At worst, outdoor cyclists and runners have the distinct pleasure of sucking in the exhaust and fumes that are emitted by the cars and trucks that traverse those street and roads that runners and cyclists share.  This is one of the reasons that swimming is a more asthma-friendly sport.  There is also the fact that the temperature and humidity level of the water above the surface of the pool is often more suitable for an asthmatic's lungs, or so I have heard. 

However, none of this makes up for the fact that swimming, at least the freestyle stroke, entails spending 80% - 95% of the time spent exercising with your head in a medium that offers zero oxygen.  A gulp of pollen-filled air is no cup of tea, but it beats the heck out of a lung-full of water.  You see, one of the major challenges that I face with asthma is not only the capacity to breath, but also an awkward breathing rate.  As a result, I need to focus on my breathing cadence, which is easy enough when I can take a breath whenever needed.  That is why swimming creates a unique challenge to me.  As a result, I could certainly make do without fins (though it would help), though they would be helpful, but good L-rd, I need gills.

In full discolsure, when I was younger (meaning, age 12) I was an excellent swimmer.  I spent a lot of time in the and under the water.  I could swim forever and hold my breath for even longer.  However, that was then and this is now (a couple of decades and pounds later).  My current reality is that the second that I put my head in the water I can't wait to get my head out, to take a breath.  So, if someone knows where I can get a gill implants (are there any pulmonary-plastic surgeons reading this blog?), please let me know.  Until then happens, I will continue to half-drown-half-churn through the water.

De-cleated

I will skip over most of the details of this morning’s bike ride, only to say that I was one of five people, three of them veterans of last year’s triathlon, all training for this year’s triathlon.  The vets pushed us hard and it was a great workout.  Everything went really well until I reached the summit of the final hill and got ready to dismount from my bicycle.

My right cleat clicked out nice and smooth (ahhh, what a pleasure) and I proceeded to press the bottom of my left foot outwards, away from the bike, to click my left foot out... still clicked in.  I was coming to a stop; I exaggerated the twist, starting to panic… still attached to the pedal.  I came to a stop and leaned on my right foot, with my left foot still attached to the pedal.  I twisted my leg in, then out, then in, then out and then my shoe came off the pedal.  Notice that I didn’t say that I clicked out, because I hadn’t.  I succeeded in removing my shoe from the cleat it was attached to (no minor accomplishment, since I had screwed the cleat into the shoe with two threaded screws). 

Alright - I had about a 2 mile ride home, but I could pedal, albeit awkwardly with my left foot and I had full use of my right cleat, which I proceeded to click in to the pedal and rode home.  Pulling up to the driveway, I started to slow down and gave myself ample time to unclick my cleat (remember what happened last time, right – if not, go back and read my last entry).  I twisted my right cleat outwards...  I was still clicked in.  I tried again, more frantic.  I twisted in, and out and in and out and I came to a stop (thankfully, I had my left foot unclicked due to the malfunction that occurred 10 minute earlier).  I placed my left foot down, managed not to fall and proceeded to follow the same steps that had worked earlier when my cleat was stuck.  Nothing.  By this time, I had slowly move down the block while trying to maintain my balance, as I tried to click out, and it began to dawn on me that I was not going to be able to click out, so I reached down and undid the three velcro straps on my shoes and removed my foot from the shoe, while the shoe remained attached to the bicycle pedal. 

So there I was, limping down the street (remember I am wearing only one shoe, which is on my left foot) pushing my bicycle with one pedal that has a shoe attached to it.  Then I hear from a window, “Hi Daddy!!!”  It was my 3 year old daughter, screaming out the window.  She must have been so proud to be my daughter.

Bumps & Bruises

Even though I posted yesterday, I thought that y’all would appreciate this short story (I’ll keep this post short).  I went out for a 13-mile bike ride this morning.  The ride went great.  I anticipated my stops and clicked my shoes out of the pedal well in advance of coming to a stop.  I rode up my driveway, clicking my right shoe out well in advance.  I came to a stop placing my weight, as I have learned, on my right foot as I unclipped my left foot… just a little too slowly, apparently.  Though my weight was on my right foot, as I unclipped I sort of shifted my weight to my left and lost my balance…  “Unclip, unclip, unclip,” I thought, to no avail, as I started to fall with my bike attached to my left foot.  Somehow, I managed to position my body so that I fell on my back, with my bike falling on top of me.

The net result of the fall was a bruised ego and a small crack in my confidence, but other than that I am perfectly fine (no one saw, which was nice).  The upside is that I got a good laugh at myself.  I hope you had a good laugh, too.

A Triathlete Walks Into a Bar…

It has been almost a month since I started training for the Jarden Westchester Triathlon and I have made real strides towards my three main goals (weight loss, fundraising and finishing time).   Thanks to you (and only those of you who have already donated – j/k), I have raised almost $500, and thanks to my coaches, I am that much closer to surviving a 25 mile bicycle ride (see earlier posts for why).  Over the past couple of weeks I have come to comprehend the idea of finishing a triathlon, albeit over the course of 3 days and not three hours.  However, that is a big step forward from 30 seconds into my first 2.5 mile run, when I thought that I was going to fail, and then 30 seconds after that first run, whenI was sure that I was going to fail.  When I asked about how they did it, all of the Skippy’s Team alums said the same things: (i) “If I could do it, you can do it”; (ii) “If (insert name of person who completed the event last year) did it, you can too; and (iii) “Don’t worry - follow the program, work hard, and you’ll be fine.”  Funny enough, those three messages were identical to those I heard almost exactly 5 years ago regarding a totally different challenge that I encountered.

This evening, my brother-in-law will graduate from law school (congratulations!) and will join the tens of thousands of law school graduates who have completed their law school education in 2011.  While many of us think of a graduation ceremony as a celebratory event that marks the completion of a significant course of education, many law students view it as a study break.  You see, for many law school graduates, graduation means taking a break from studying for the Bar Examination.  There is no rest for the weary.  The multistate portion of the Bar will be given this year on July 27, 2011 and state-specific exams are given over the next day (or two, if you are taking exams for multiple states).  As a result, law students go straight from the fire and into the oven, starting Bar exam prep almost immediately after their last finals.  That means a Bar prep classes in the morning and law school graduations in the evening.

Why do Bar prep courses start so soon after graduation?  Simply put, failure is not an option; or at least it isn’t an option that you want to deal with.  The consequences of failure can include the additional cost of Bar prep materials, loss of time, loss of self-esteem (yes, your friends and classmates do check the publicly-released list to see if you passed), some firms will not hire you until you have passed the bar, and you can lose your job if you fail.  So the point is that you really want to pass. 

Is it easy to pass the Bar exam(at least in NY and CA)?  Ask Kathleen Sullivan, former dean of Stanford Law School (the #3 ranked law school in the U.S.).  Years after passing the Bar exam first time and after holding the position of Stanford Law’s dean, Sullivan took the Bar exam a second time so that she could practice in California.  She failed (note: historically, 96 – 98% graduates of Stanford Law pass the bar on their first try – just a bit embarrassing for the dean!).

For most law school graduates, getting more than 25% of your first set of multiple choice Bar practice questions correct is a minor victory (the law of averages says that you should get 20% correct by just guessing on multiple choice questions that have 5 answer choices).  That is a ways away from the 70% or so correct that students need to target to pass (assuming you receive an average essay score).   Panic attacks and freak outs can occur as early as week one, are common in week four and are a constant in weeks seven through ten. 

There are usually three constant refrains Bar-studiers will hear from attorneys who have passed the Bar exam: (i) “If I can do it, you can do it”; (ii) “Think of the dumbest lawyers that you know – they all passed and so will you”; and (iii) “Don’t worry – work hard, study according to the plan your course gave you and sometime during the week before or two weeks before the test it will all come together and you will be fine.”

So, triathletes, how do you like being compared to a bunch of lawyers?

Having passed the Bar exam (I had good reason to freak out with four weeks left to go before the exam, but passed with flying colors, in the end), I trust the advice of my alum-teammates (even the advice I’ve received from the lawyers in the group).  So to all of you law school grads, I’ll be thinking of you as I grind out the last half-mile of my bike/swim/run this summer.  And what I’ll be thinking is, “better you than me.”

LEFT!

Prior to this past Friday, I have been on a bicycle one time in the past 17 years.  Somehow, my wife, Elana, and I thought that the most intelligent way to experience San Francisco was to take a bicycle-built-for-two across the Golden Gate Bridge into Sausalito, and then to take a ferry back to San Fran.  What we did not know was that this trip included driving on heavily trafficked roads and not just the pretty park path that you take to the bridge.  What we did know is that Elana had ridden a bike once(!) in her life and the experience went as follows:  Elana’s father was trying to teach her how to ride a bike and  on her first attempt she fell (like most first timers); Elana’s father raised his voice at her for some reason; Elana got upset and stormed off promising that she would never ride a bicycle again.  She didn’t (at least until SF).  In short, it is amazing that we survived, San Francisco is beautiful and the best way to tour the city is on a cable car, not a bicycle.  But, I digress.

So, I went out for a ride with (forgiving) friends on Friday morning for about an hour and it went pretty well, so I was all geared up for this morning’s training ride – my first with the group, my first with coaches and my first with clip-in bicycle cleats.  Cleats(?) some of you may ask, as I did.  Yes, cleats.  There is a cleat at the bottom of a special bicycle sneaker that attaches to special pedals, which are designed to accept cleats.  The advantage of a cleat (to over simplify) is that your foot is always in the proper location to transfer power to the pedal and, because you are attached, you also get power from the backswing of your pedal, as you pull upwards.  All of this means a faster and more efficient bike ride.  The significant downside is that if you don’t unclip before you come to a stop, your foot can still be attached to the pedal, and instead of gently leaning on your foot as you come to a stop you will find yourself gently crashing down on your shoulder, hip and thigh as you come to a more painful and abrupt stop.

This morning I made a new friend by de-cleating too slowly, just in time to avoid crashing to the ground by putting my foot down, sticking out my hand and placing it my new not-friend’s shoulder (purely instinctively, I had no idea what was going on) and nearly sent him flying.  Thankfully, he was not clipped in and was able to regain his balance.  I was told, nicely, but sternly, by my coaches that I needed to VERY careful when clipped in and I must think ahead, or I could really hurt myself or someone else.

A few minutes later, our coaches told the group, in no uncertain terms, that we should ALWAYS pass on the left and, before passing a rider, we need to shout out “Left!” or “Passing Left!”  This is common courtesy, so as not to surprise a rider who can’t see you, and also an anti-crash precaution, in case the rider in front was going to move out to the left as you were passing (CRASH!).  I was very good about moving to the left and yelling out “Left!” when I passed a rider.  Apparently, my presumption that moving to the left was an appropriate evasive action when a large, Westchester County Bus rode up behind you was 100% wrong.  This time, one of the coaches yelled at me the way I have yelled at one of my children when they nearly ran into the middle of a street.  “Even if you were right to move to the left, but you were killed, you would still be dead!  You would be right!  But, you would be dead!”  I had been scolded (and deservedly so) for the second time in the day by someone I had just met and it was barely 9:30am. 

However, I think the strangest moment of the day came as I drove home in my car.  After merging onto the Hutchinson River Parkway, I gained speed and soon signaled into the left lane.  As I moved onto the back hip of the car in the right lane and accelerated to pass, I actually found myself saying, out loud, “Left!”  Maybe there is some hope for me after all.

Humility & Inspiration

The “The Serenity Prayer”, written by Reinhold Niebuhr and adapted by Alcoholics Anonymous, includes the following:

“Grant to us the serenity of mind to accept which cannot be changed; courage to change that which can be changed, and wisdom to know the one from the other…”

I am perplexed.  As I am in my fourth week of training, I have tried the whole “courage” thing (a healthy dose of “Eye of the Tiger”), but, unfortunately, I am not sure whether I have the “wisdom” to know whether my inability to complete a triathlon is something that “cannot be changed”.  I am try, I really am - I am working hard, training four to five days a week.  However, I keep hitting walls at the 40 minute to 1 hour mark, which make me question whether I will be able to compete in a triathlon for 3.5 hours.

Enter Beatriz.  This past Sunday, at the first Team-In-Training training meet up, I ran 3.1 miles at a very nice clip, but I was completely beat afterwards.  After cooling down and relaxing a little bit, I was ready to head back to my car and head home, when Beatriz, a woman who I met at the Team-In-Training kickoff event, came into sight.  I haven’t asked Beatriz for her permission to write about her, so I will err on the side of under-disclosing personal information, but what I can tell you is that if you met her you would NEVER(!) guess that she ever completed a triathlon.  She is in good shape, but she does not look like a triathlete, though she completed her first triathlon last year.  She completed the triathlon in over five and a half hours (the vast majority of competitors finish in between two and a half and three and a half hours).  FIVE AND A HALF HOURS – I can’t even imagine pushing my body as hard as it can go for over an hour, yet Beatriz had the mental and physical fortitude to do it for almost a quarter of a day.  Anyway, as she neared me, I asked her if she was done and she replied that she was going to run a little farther…

…Apparently, I was not done for the day.  I joined her.  We ran a little more and I got to learn more about Beatriz’s experience last year, her motivations to compete (e.g. - setting a good example for her teenage daughters, improving health, raising money for LLS, etc.).  We ran a little more and I learned about how training changed her life and her daily routine.  We ran a little more, and as we did I felt less and less formidable and more and more inspired.  I accidentally jogged another 2.25 miles with Beatriz.

So right now, my goal is to finish the triathlon in five and a half hours – Beatriz promised me that I would definitely be able to do that.