I’ve been writing this blog in my mind for months… well, since the first race of the season for WhiteLine.  And since then, there have been a number of races and successes, so now I have to do a whole lot of bragging, which will make this longer.  But every WhiteLine athlete that has raced has done it with overwhelming success.

In a very early season half marathon, LaDawn ran her way to a true personal victory at the Rock -n- Roll DC 1/2 Marathon.

In early April, I took 4 athletes to the Smithfield Sprint Triathlon:  Rae, Ryan, Todd and Rae (yes, I have two Raes!).  The swim was a 400 m indoor snake swim.  Those of you living almost anywhere in the US, other than Hawaii, understand the early season sprint tri snake swims.  I think we can all agree that they are a nuisance.  I mean, come on, how many of you can flip turn [well] in BOTH directions??   Anyhow, after leaving the warmth of the pool area, we were met with sunny skies, 50 degrees and fairly sizeable winds.  Brrrr…  All athletes just braved it–I’m proud to say no one took any time in transition to put on extra clothing.  A fairly fast bike and a very fast run course wrapped up our first season triathlon.  It was a great way to blow out the early season jitters and just race.  And 4 of 5 athletes were on the podium.  I think I might need to start looking into kits!

Ryan, Todd, me, Rae, Rae

Two weeks later, I solo-ed a race in Richmond, VA.  I enjoy racing alone at times–you get to do exactly as you need/want to prepare for a race.  And for me, its a great opportunity to pause (not during the race) and take a deep breath.  The oddity of this race was their open water style swim in a 50 m pool.  In stead of swimming into the wall, flipping and pushing off the wall, they had set up buoys for each turn.  A deep water start and 7 – 180 degree buoy turns made me skeptical.  But I swam better than if it was a true snake swim, which speaks volumes for my lovely flip turns.  I was thrilled to go 2nd OA here.

The first weekend of May, I had 4 athletes racing all over the place.  Craig took on Rocketman, in sunny and warm Florida, where they opened the gates to the Kennedy Space Center and allowed the bike route in and amongst various space landmarks and facilities.  This was Craig’s first triathlon EVER and honestly, after all the work he put into his training, I think he would agree it was a piece of cake.  Its sometimes hard to remember the terror of your first triathlon–how much you don’t know–how intimidating it can be.  But Craig toed the line prepared and pulled off a fantastic race.  I could go on and on about his accomplishments in the last 6 months, but its safe to say that through determination, very hard work, a lot of support and triathlon, Craig changed his own life.

Sara started her season off at the Terrapin Sprint Triathlon at the University of Maryland.  This course was another open-water style pool swim, except the athletes actually did get to swim in a circle.  I believe she might get the prize for worst race day conditions as it was 50 degrees, raining and the winds were howling.  She braved it and produced a very solid race.  I don’t have any photos of her on race day, but I do have a great shot of her, myself and Craig at the George Washington Parkway 5k classic.

Ryan went to Monticelloman and rocked out his first half ironman.  He came to me a few months ago with speed but no real base fitness and a dismal swim (sorry Ryan ), but then friggin’ banged out a 32′ swim and a 1:35 run to go 2nd in his AG.  He actually lead his AG off the bike and throughout the run, but then about 1/2 mi from the finish, started cramping and didn’t realize that first place passed him as he was stooped over his quads.  He was beat by a mere 12 seconds.  Ryan is a Marine and I suspect had he known this, the outcome would have been different.  Look out for this guy.

Rae Bastoni had her first ‘A’ race of the season at the Rev 3 Knoxville Olympic Race.  Her main goal?  Qualify for her pro card.  Well, we can check that box.  Rae took her hard work, dedication and heart and DOMINATED.  With a 1st OA amateur and a 7th OA, including the pros and the likes of Mirinda Carfrae, Rae hunkered down in absolute dismal conditions and just did what she loves to do.  Race.  Look out world.  Here comes Rae!!  You can follow her life and training at:  live.laugh.train.

The following weekend, Todd, Mike and myself geared up for the Kinetic Half down at Lake Anna Park.  The main challenge to this race is getting there–if you’ve ever been in or around DC, you will know that I-95S is the. worst. corridor. in. the. U.S.  There is no argument here.  After you pass through the ‘mixing bowl’, what should take an hour, takes three.  But I digress…  Forecasted thunderstorms threatened to turn this race into a duathlon, but the weather gods held the lightening at bay (not the squals) and the race went off without a hitch.  And we all had our challenges and goals and for the most part, it was a day of success.  Mike, who has had a very difficult spring, swam and rode extremely smart, allowing him a very respectable run.  I had a decent swim, a very good bike, and what I would term a dismal run, but it was still enough to hold onto an 11th OA and a 1st AG.  And Todd, in his very first half, smoked the course and almost everyone else with a 4:14:49 and a 2nd OA.  Todd is just a force to be reckoned with.  We’ll be seeing a lot more from him.

And last-to-date, but certainly not least, Rae and Patricia took on the notoriously hilly Columbia course.  Once again, the athletes had to brave the weather, and my gals did just that, both having very smart and solid races.  And I believe a burning desire to go faster.  I always like that.

All of my athletes have busy lives and their own personal stories and triumphs.  They all deserve hearty congratulations and they’ve just done me so proud.  I’m so blessed to have such a stellar group right now and am truly inspired by them.  Its hard not to gush.  They each deserve their own post really.

So though it seems that Jenny Lagerquist and her new LLC, WhiteLine Tri and Velo has been quiet, in reality I just haven’t had time to sit and blog!  In addition to my adult athletes, I am coaching and running a kid’s running program and a youth triathlon program.  And well, I’m still training!  But more on all of that later.

Happy Racing everyone!

For the record, coaching kids is not even remotely the same as coaching adults.  Contrary to popular belief, kids are NOT just smaller versions of us.  Physiologically, athletic endeavors and training for youth and juniors must be approached differently to protect them–growth plates, maturity level, training level, hormone level–the list goes on and on. And fundamentally, I certainly knew that dealing with kids is much different.  After all, I do have one of my very own.
But after 8 weeks of hilarity, I realized that it is not about any sort of regimented program or about meeting any well-intentioned goals.  For a type-A triathlete, coaching these young athletes was about letting go of control.  I herded, ran after, imitated, laughed with, barked at and encouraged these kids.  We played games and relays to burn off energy, while secretly guiding the athletes, hoping to instill long-term helpful information.  I watched them run in their own individual way and accomplish their own individual goals. Sometimes, they didn’t even know what those goals were: to be better runners, or runners at all.  Some aspired to just make the next lap.  And of course, some aspired to drive me crazy. But each week, when the last group of kids were dismissed from school and I rounded them up and moved them out for running practice (which is like firing 45 kids from a cannon), I learned to harness and funnel that energy.  And they DID learn about proper running form and healthy eating tips.  Kids are little athletic, energetic, smart-mouthed sponges.  I am proud of each and every athlete.  And I miss them all.

Whenever I start a new athlete and with some of my veterans even, there is an exceptional amount of moaning and groaning and bitching when they have to start drawing in the reigns on the run to keep their heart rate in the right zones.  But why?  Think about it.  We are often more-than-happy to head out on a more leisurely ride where we can enjoy the scenery, smells and sounds (no headphones on the bike!!), but god forbid a coach ask an athlete to go on a more leisurely run!  What force drives us to push for a personal best on our regular loops?  Why do we expect such fast improvements on the run but patiently work towards goals in the other two sports? Why can’t we just chill?

I believe most of this comes from form issues.  Running experts typically agree that the faster you run, the better your form.  So in general, its more comfortable, in the muscle, tendon, ligament, joint sort-of-way, to run fast.  Often when we slow down, our form falls apart and pain and discomfort replace speed.  But running in a lower heart rate zone doesn’t necessarily equate ‘slow’ and certainly shouldn’t force a deterioration in technique.  Lower HR zones allow fitness gains and form adjustments.  Form should more-or-less remain the same when long-distance running, despite the pace.  (Yes, when doing pure speed work and sprints, form changes accordingly.)  Cadence is ~180; the forward lean, posture, and mid-foot strike remain the same; arms move in their relaxed 90 degree bend; feet strike lightly and quickly on the pavement.   So what changes?  Mainly the distance covered with each strike.  Obviously this will affect other movements like the degree of your knee rise and the degree of foot rise on the back side.  But in a big-picture perspective, distance per stride generated by musculature activation, is the difference in your endurance zone training and tempo-to-LT zone training.

Now, with proper form and consistent proper zone training, a whole new set of benefits change your landscape of running.  Fitness is acquired, form is perfected, efficiency is increased.  And this all equates to faster paces in the same zones.

Case in point:

In February, Kirk declared he was running the Marine Corps Marathon on October 28.  His first kudos:  allowing himself ample time to actually train properly for a marathon.  His second kudos: asking his wife to coach him.  (As a side-note, this could lead a relationship down a marriage counseling path, but in our case, it was win-win.)  I set up a plan for him and altered it weekly and daily based on his current work schedule and his progression (a big plus to having a coach).  Kirk followed my instruction to the letter.  He bitched and complained, just like every other athlete on the planet, about the zones and how hard it was to stay in them.  But he stuck with it and didn’t cheat.  Pretty soon, he was seeing vast improvements in fitness.  We then could begin fartlek, speed and hill work.  [Marathon training should NOT be about going long and slow!]  Over the months his pace at the same heart rates dropped dramatically.  By marathon time, with proper progressive training, his pace was reduced by over a minute per mile in the same heart rate zone!!  It was a true testament to PROPER heart rate and marathon training.

Sunday, Kirk did the race.  And despite the looming frankenstorm whipping up some winds, he went 3:32:09–a 30 MINUTE PR over the marathon distance.

So athletes, have faith and patience in your heart rate zone training.  There is rhyme to the reason and substantial gains to be had!

Now, since I couldn’t go to the race, I checked Facebook incessantly and did some yummy baking for his return.

I took this:

And made this:

and this:

and finally this:

Since my training has been L.I.G.H.T., I’ve spent many an hour in the kitchen this fall, hacking into pumpkins and making various fall cuisines for my family.  And I’ve truly enjoyed the time off and playing a sadly, uncrafty version of Martha.  But I am an athlete and am itching to get back on the horse.  The swimming and biking have started, but as for my running…. you know what happens when you don’t heed your own knowledge, advice and logic?  You get 8 or so different issues with your foot and ankle that will likely take a few months to physical therapy out.  I’ll keep you posted…

I think everyone is aware that I did not have a good day.  But I’m beginning to feel like a broken record.  I’ve had nearly the same issue, with a few variations to keep it interesting, in every one of my Ironmans.  I guess the upside is that when I get it figured out, I’ll have a great race.  But lets start out with some pics from what is now my favorite IM location.

Sadie canoeing on Mirror Lake

The SMALLER of the two ski jumps.

I guess I’ll get down to business.  Strangely enough for me, the highlight of the day was the swim.  Open water swimming doesn’t get much better than this.  Its a beautiful, fairly clean freshwater lake that gets little to no chop.  The water was 74°, perfect for the ole’ long john wetsuit (thanks Xterra!).  I had heard many stories concerning this swim.  The start-line is a narrow chute with little room for 2588 athletes to start close to the front.  I’ve listened to horror stories of swimming in a washing machine the WHOLE WAY.  I certainly don’t enjoy that type of scenario so I opted to go with some superb advice from my friend Melissa.  Start front and center and go like hell for the first few minutes.  I found my friend Nick (a very good swimmer), which was crazy in such a goggly mess, and I started slightly catercorner to him.  As the start time approached, we were being forcefully pushed from behind from the remaining 2300 athletes.  Instead of treading water, we were vertical kicking at this point.  But BAM!

We were off and I went hard for maybe 30 sec and found myself totally alone with open water.  Huh?  Where is everyone?  Well the 2 dudes in front of me immediately swam away from me and I, away from the folks behind me. So I settled in quickly.  But shortly after, the next wave of speedsters swam right over top of me.  The small cluster of men was perfect because I knew I could get on some feet that were slightly faster than my own.  I swam the first loop in 31.  I had a hard time finding good feet on the second loop and swam by myself a while, but still came out of the water in 1:04.  A nice PR for me!

On to the bike.  My main objective for this IM was to ride the bike easy… the. whole. damn. way.  So I did.  We wanted to make sure I wasn’t sabotaging my run with too big of an effort on the bike.  This was incredibly boring and frustrating.  IM LP has a very tough bike course with several major CLIMBS–my kind of course so soft pedaling up those hills was bothersome.  But I stuck to my guns and smiled and SCREAMED down the descents.  I definitely learned some descending skills in France!  Not one person, male or female, passed me on the descents (we are talking 10 min descents).  That was fun.

But 80 miles in, I was already starting to feel the digestive issues that I’ve succumbed to all too often.  Uh-oh.  I should have known it was too late, but I started trying to reconcile…

From the very first step of the run, I knew I was in trouble.  I was already under such significant duress that I moved quickly passed the frustration part and on to preservation and salvation.  I puttered along, but couldn’t manage anything faster than 9:30s or so.  I was at a loss of what to do.  (Wondering what’s going on?  Its just total system shutdown.  Imagine your digestive system just completely shutting down.)  I saw my family at around mile 13 and told them my state but that I thought I would finish…  It was just going to take a while.  I kept motoring along, but when I reached mile 19, not being able to eat or digest anything for hours upon hours caught up and I found myself hunkered over on the side of the road about to pass out.  (This part happens quickly.)  Next thing I know I have volunteers standing over me offering up a smorgasbord of aid options and an ambulance ready to whisk me away if necessary.  Coke.  I think I just need some coke.  Several cups later, the vision came back and I was able to stand again.  I waved off the ambulance and just thought how all of these people had come to see me do this IM and by God, I was going to finish it.  An aid station volunteer walked with me for 3 miles.  I just sipped coke and tried a pretzel every now and again.  I was always walking the line of consciousness, but pressed on.  It. Took. Forever.  I’ve never wanted to quit something so badly in all my life.  What a freaking nightmare.  In a daze, I kept moving forward.  I could hear the crowds and then the announcer, then finally, I could see the lights (slightly melodramatic, I know, but accurate none-the-less).  One foot in front of the other.  Until. I. Crossed. That. F-ing. Line.

For me, there is no glory in doing an IM this way.  I’m capable of SO MUCH MORE.  But I did learn.  Its not the bike!!  Woo hoo!!!  I mean, certainly I can’t go out and do 40 K TT speed, but hey, I can ride a friggin’ IM bike leg.  Its all in the nutrition.  I’ve yet to find the formula that my body can handle, but we are getting closer.

And I had huge support this time and I’m so grateful.  My parents made the trek from Virginia to Lake Placid to see me, as did my dear friend Amy.  And of course, I had my family.

Amy made me these AWESOME signs.  She and her husband own a Fast Signs store in Springfield, VA.

We poked around the town and area for a few days after.  Mountains, lakes and Olympic history–I think we all want to move there!

Lake Placid

Up next is a couple of smaller, more local races, including a half on the Outer Banks.  And then, I believe I’m headed to Florida for IM FL.  One way or another, I will get it right.

But enough of my woes…I wanted to post re the last day in France–a chance to bust a move (or gut) up Alpe d’Huez.  We woke up to clouds and rain on Sunday.  What?  Rain on my parade?  Well, I never.  But in reality, it was perfect.  I took a couple of campers down Alpe d’Huez and over and up the Col du Ornon, which Jimmy and I did on our first riding day.  (Its too bad I didn’t describe that day which included hilarities in tunnels, gravel road and a gnarly descent, but I was wrapped up in my own demonic misery, but I digress…)  This is a gentle, amiable climb.  Remarkably I cruised right on up it at an average HR of 125–its amazing what a few days of truly aerobic training will do for one’s fitness.  Anyhow, we descended in the rain (brrrr) and I took them around to the base of Villard Reculas (a climb I later learned has been affectionately nicknamed Villard ‘reck-your-ass’) and then I headed back around to Alpe d’Huez.  Alpe d’Huez.  Even as I write it, I can’t believe I climbed it.  Twice.

Anyhow, I tried to keep the effort in check (be warned!  the first 4k are steep and taxing!) and did fairly well.  I really wanted to break an hour ’cause that means you are pretty damn good.  I worked hard.  Its a long climb.  21 switchbacks.  That. Are. Numbered.  It just goes on and on.  Funny how it drags on when you are working substantially harder.  With 3 k to go, I came upon an intersection.  Oh no!  I can’t remember which way to go!  (If your could see it, you’d understand.)  But wait, there is a sign!  ”Sommit —-> 3k”  Well, that must be it!  As soon as I hit the next switchback, I knew I had made the wrong turn.  S*it!  There went my effort… no matter what, I won’t know MY time on Alpe d’Huez.  So, the sign was for a regional bike race being held.  The guy standing at the sign didn’t speak English, which is certainly not his fault.  Pbbbb….. So, somewhat deflated, I motored on.  This route takes you up and around to the right and up to the backside of the town at the top.  When I hit the main round about, I was at 59:44.  So I broke an hour.  Jimmy felt I would have gone at least the same, if not faster on the correct route.

Well, I guess I’ll just have to go back.

Seriously, France camp anyone?  I’m taking names.

La Source in Villard Reculas–cute, eh?!

But today it was back on the bike with the Col du Galibier as our destination peak.  This was to be our highest climb of my trip at 2642 m (approaching 9000 feet) and there was ample snow and cool temperatures to welcome us.  From the very base, this is basically a 30 mile climb.  Yep, you read that right.  But its a little gentler than the climbs we’ve done thus far, averaging probably 5-6%.  But the last kilometer pitches up to 12-15% so there was a bit of huffing and puffing towards the top.  Today, we had a fairly stiff tailwind after we made it up the Col du Lautaret (the first bump of the Galibier leaving only 8k to the summit) so honestly, it was by far, the easiest climb of the week.  And glorious as usual.  Although, there were just a few moments of white knuckling as the wind wraps around and bounces off the mountains.  Once, I was hit so hard by a cross-wind gust that it actually pushed my brake into my rear wheel.  This, of course, had to be fixed immediately.  I don’t have any breathtaking photos to share because when we ride, we ride.  No time to stop and take up some photography.  Might seem like a bummer but I’m here and see it and marvel at it.  Jimmy promises to share photos of the climbs, then I can pass those along.

Finished my ride up to Villard Reculas, the 7 mile slightly beast-like climb we have to do to get back and I can’t believe how good I feel.  Today marks nearly 47,000 feet of climbing in 4 rides and there is a remarkable difference in my power at the same heart rate.  Its a new level of fitness!

Tomorrow is my last ride day and I am so sad.  Yes, I miss my family, of course, but this has been an opportunity of a lifetime and I’ve soaked up every switchback, climb, waterfall, glacier, wildflower encountered.  I’ve eaten a family’s share of white bread and have sampled the wine in plentitude.  I’ve vowed to return (France camp anyone??) and perhaps learn a bit of French.

Tomorrow?  I finally get to draw my big guns and bust a move up the very famous Alpe d’Huez.  Won’t be any photos.  But I’ll let you know my time.  The record, held by none other than Lance Armstrong, I believe is 37:41.  That number is so much more impressive when you see the hill.  Jimmy’s done it in 41:xx.  Yep, he’s that good.  Hopefully some of that rubbed off on me this week….

This doesn’t quite do it justice, but perhaps you get the idea.

This is looking across, but both sides of the mountain were that steep.  Nothing to stop a fall, I’m afraid.

Since it was so steep, we quickly made it past the part that I wanted to cry and the road quickly turned into a smooth slightly wavy ribbon that I, a terrible descender, could spend some bomb time.  Damn it was fun.  Since I didn’t die, I could really enjoy this.  I did have to stop and take a photo:

Which came first?

We made it back down into Le Bourg-d’Oisans and stopped to have dinner before heading back up Alpe d’Huez.

Perfect French little town.

Alpe d’Huez was everything I could have hoped…and a little more.  I was surprised at the grade on the bottom 4k–very steep and unrelenting.  But it does ease up just a bit and allows you to relax (or speed up depending on your agenda) and enjoy.  I am still under restriction at the moment so I just pedaled, but I’m getting pretty excited about hauling ass up that thing.  I did stop and take just a couple of pics.  I figure there will be no stopping the next time I do it.

This was taken about 3/4 the way up.  Never a lack for a view here.

Hope everyone is enjoying the photos.  Anyone feeling they’d like to do a France camp?  Talk to me.

Cheers,

The descents here are not easy.  The roads are narrow and there are many many switchbacks.  Switchbacks that have no guardrail or even a small berm to keep you from hurling 1000s of meters to an eminent and rather unfortunate demise.  My hands continually cramp and I’m afraid to even check my brakes for wear.  There are some areas that you can open things up a bit but without knowing the roads, there’s always the concern of an unforeseen turn or head-on vehicle.  For us though, the roads have been relatively quiet and the drivers here expect the cyclists and give you no grief.

What I can’t get into words (partly because of the grandiose and partly because of the exhaustion) is the scenery.  For anyone who watches the Tour, the pictures always seem amazing.  And its even better in person, honestly.  Since I can’t describe it, I’ll add a few photos.

And when I get back to the states, I will be a machine… with really strong hands.

 From the top of Col de la Croix de Fer

Things were getting a little punchy with about 8k to go up the Col de la Croix de Fer

From the top of the Col du Glandon

Despite the crack in my frame, ML’s hanging in there well.  Black electric tape is the bomb.

]]> http://whitelinetriandvelo.com/2012/06/a-machine/feed/ 0 http://whitelinetriandvelo.com/2012/06/ode-to-a-coach/ http://whitelinetriandvelo.com/2012/06/ode-to-a-coach/#comments Tue, 26 Jun 2012 21:00:20 +0000 Jenny Lagerquist http://www.nowgorideyourbike.com/?p=565 I want to post each day while I’m riding in France and I thought my first one would be an unsolicited gloat of the majesty, beauty, history and mystique of our location and our legendary rides.  I mean we are staying but ~2km from Alpe d’Huez.  And this is our view!

Make no mistake, today was fantastic.  We did 7400 feet of climbing, some gnarly descents, a few tunnels so black I could not even see Jimmy two feet in front of me, and even some gravel road.  Today was an easy day.  And I loved every second, although I spent the majority of the time pinching myself because I still can’t believe that I’m here.

But I, hands down, probably learned some of my biggest lessons in training today.  Most of you that visit my blog know that I am coached by Jimmy Riccitello.  Jimmy is located in Tucson, so we only see each other once or twice a year and rarely do we actually get to train together.  So aside from the fact that I’m in France, well, I get to ride with my coach.  He sees and learns a lot about my style of riding (for better or for worse) and it didn’t take long down the first descent (Alpe d’Huez) for him to show me a few invaluable tips.  My descending improved drastically in the span of one day.  But more than that, the first climb may as well have had 200 desks in a rising half-circle because that hill was just one big lecture hall.  He’s not stern with me often.  He doesn’t have to be.  I don’t always fill out my log perfectly but he knows that I’m doing the work and following directions (for the most part).  We are lucky that we’ve been working together long enough that he just sort of knows me.  But this particular lecture (which admittedly resurfaced later in a more heated fashion) turned Jenny, a normally nonplussed cyclist (note I said cyclist, not person) into an absolute pissy pants.  And poor Jimmy had an eye opening experience.  The lecture in four words or less?  SLOW THE FRICK DOWN.  Seemingly simple advice and advice I am constantly giving my own athletes.  But I have large quantities of ego on the bike and the demons came out swinging.  He’s right and I know it.  I destroy every long distance triathlon run simply because I go too hard on the bike…at some point during the race.  I may have to write this on the blackboard over and over and over … and over.

Its obvious this has made a huge impression on me when I choose to write about it rather than the details of glorious France.  But despite the ego, the other things I am are:  smart, attentive and determined.

This is why we hire coaches.  Thanks Jimmy.