Races

marathon, half marathon, aqua jogging, pilates, baking

Dude, you just got chicked!

For about 24 hours leading into yesterday’s 10 km race, I was questioning my sanity, and truthfully, I’m still questioning it. There’s no doubt in my mind I was suffering the ill effects of injury; nasty, painful aches in the pelvic/groin region. I couldn’t bend over, squat down, cross my legs, make any sudden movement, heck, I couldn’t even put my socks on without wincing in pain. So what the hell was I doing racing? I told myself over and over it was a cycling injury, not a running injury. Dear Physio, who’s been extremely conservative in the past with me running with injury, would never have given the green light if he thought it bad. And then there was my stubborn, and somewhat insane, side refusing to wimp out. Insert nervous smile here. I warmed up for 20 minutes prior with a 5 minute jog, leg drills, and a […]

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On your marks, get set…

It’s funny, when I compare my MEC 10 km race from last week to my BMO 8 km race in May, it’s like night and day. MEC had me satisfied. BMO had me shattered. And yet, looking at the straight stats, I was faster for BMO… just an average of 4 seconds faster, mind you, but faster nonetheless. However, I went into BMO – my first race back post pregnancy – expecting brilliance. I wanted my pace to be unwavering. I wanted my focus to be sharp. I wanted a perfect race. But when my pace started to drop, my focus waned, my heart sunk, my legs slowed. And that devil on my shoulder kept beating me down, telling me there was no way I could fix it, no way I could crank up the speed in my legs, no way I could make my goal. Honestly, I felt like

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‘Ohmygawd! I just peed my pants!’

Warning: In case you didn’t notice from the headline above, this post may be TMI for some. You have been warned. At about 7 km into Sunday’s race, my brain took a trip down memory lane, to a time when I was seven years old, walking home from school, wearing one of my favourite corduroy dresses. I was just a few blocks from home, less than 10 minutes. I had to pee, like really had to pee, my bladder was so full it was sore. I tried squeezing it in, tried walking with my legs crossed over, but the feeling wouldn’t go away, and my super skinny, short, little legs wouldn’t move fast enough. I knew there was no way I could make it. I looked to my left. I looked to my right. There was no one. I squatted, I peed, Ahhh, relief. I wish I could say I

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MEC 10 km: Personal best!!!

Soooo, hey, I sort of, kind of, totally raced my butt off yesterday morning! Hehe 😀 Beyond a couple tweets, I pretty much kept my participation in the Mountain Equipment Co-op 10 km race hush-hush. I didn’t want to put a huge amount of pressure on myself, I didn’t want extra stresses on my brain, or to feel like I’d be less if I didn’t meet my goals. This race wasn’t necessarily supposed to be about getting a great time, but more about getting my body, belly, blood sugars and brain used to racing again. My goals were simple: Run hard. Don’t give up. I thought it was a good plan. Coach NZ thought it was a good plan. My competitiveness, however, did not. Saturday night I pulled out my race pace calculator, just out of curiosity, you know, to see what kind of pace I’d have to go to

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Peanut butter…and honey!

Peanut butter and honey! That my friends is the magic elixir for kicking diabetes butt on a 60 km bike ride … at least it was for me 😀 I wasn’t sure how to fuel myself for the Living the Dream Fondo. I’ve never used gels on my recreational rides and I knew I wouldn’t be all out racing (ha!) but I’d been listening to others around me talk about gels, sports bars, jelly beans, etc., and I started thinking, ah crud, should I be doing that for my rides too? I wasn’t too keen on the idea given my past belly revolting issues with gels, and I knew 60 km wasn’t a huge distance, it shouldn’t warrant such a requirement. Still, I threw a couple into my suitcase for just in case. And then I remembered a local sports radio dude, a couple years ago, talk about his triathlon fueling

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