Piece of Cake

I would like a piece of cake right now, but that isn’t what this post is about. “This week is meant to break you” words from my very dear friend trying to calm me down on the phone Thursday. I apparently was alborotada (in an uproar is the Google translation). I had spent most of the week with a half-cold. It’s when you don’t feel 100% but it’s not a full blown cold. I attribute it to lots of training and a germ infestation in the office. This was hard for me to deal with because it was suppose to be a build week. I wasn’t ready to be out of commission recovering. So come Thursday, time for a long run and I had a Mo moment. Called it a day an hour in and left infuriated with myself and running. I couldn’t hit the pace I wanted, my knees hurt, my stomach was bothering me, I was just pissed. After about a 10 minute call, rational words (surprise, surprise, I was being irrational), and some calm words of motivation, I was better. I was still very frustrated, but tomorrow would be another day.

(Thank you Ryan)

The weekend was approaching and we were putting in some hours. I knew it would happen, but it was still kind of daunting that I was almost late for a 3pm appointment from training that I started at 7am and that I was having breakfast at 1:30pm, it’s become tradition, breakfast after training ❤ . So we set off on our 4:30 ride, in a nice little cloudy drizzle. About an hour in we were layered with street gunk and dirt. Kind of made you feel like a bad ass and really gross all at same the time. The last 4+ hour ride I did, the last hour was painful and my speed was a little embarrassing. This time, I felt strong, kept pace above my race goal, and wasn’t desperate to get off the bike. We finished covered in dirt, smelling like wet dog, and feeling pretty good about ourselves. A big breakfast, compression socks, a burger for dinner, and some quality couch time and I was feeling good for Sunday.

Wind, wind, and more wind. It’s the story of living in Miami and that’s exactly what we got on Sunday. The ride is usually easy for me on bricks because my focus on Sundays is getting through the run.  I’d been having trouble reaching 1:30 on the run and I was suppose to run longer than I’ve ran to date in Ironman training, and the longest I’ve ever ran on a brick, 1:45. So I set out with the usual, looking at my pace, focusing on my speed and by the time I hit the Key Biscayne bridge I knew I wasn’t going to make it thru this run focusing on pace. This time I focused on keeping my mind strong and my spirits high. So I stopped looking at my watch and just ran, from water fountain to water fountain. I even started smiling at anyone who made eye contact, some smiled back, and some looked at me like I was a serial killer. I don’t exactly smile when I run…ever. I played some serious jedi mind tricks. High fiving friends I saw along the way (yea we’re cute like that). Checked out all the bikes (ok and maybe some cyclist), designed my own road bike in my head, chit chatted with strangers. If there’s any time to talk to a stranger it’s on a run.  Tried to make friends with the homeless man that guards a water fountain, he wasn’t a fan. Breaking the run down in 30 minute intervals, cause in my head I can run 30 minutes. My feet started to hurt and my muscles started to cramp, but seeing that I had made it comfortably to an hour and half, I was getting those last 15 minutes in.  It hurt but a weekend that was meant to break me, didn’t (that’s what’s up!). I was proud of us. So on the next week. Piece of cake no? ~ Adding Mo Miles

What If

So I got a question the other day, “what if you can’t finish the Ironman?” The first thought in my head was, thanks for the vote of confidence guy.  My second thought, not possible. My third thought, I’ve asked myself that a few times.  My fourth, I sign up for another one and another one and another one until I do. So my inner badass would say it is not an option, not finishing is not possible. I will make it to that finish line crawling if necessary. But I also have to face the reality that it is a possibility. It’s a long, hot race and many things can go wrong.

So hypothetically speaking (cause it won’t happen), what if? There will be tears (a lot), disappointment, and a whole lot of anger. There will also be a new found determination because you could bet your ass I will be researching the next Ironman to sign up for from my hotel that night. But I also look at what preparing for this race has given me, regardless of whether I cross the finish line. It’s given me confidence as an athlete, in my ability to push thru in moments where I would have usually stopped, given up. It’s given me back something I lost for the sport. It came to a point last year where I wanted to sell my bike and I just wasn’t enjoying it. Lately, I’m tracking my workouts, preparing to really start using my power meter, uploading my Garmin info (yes that’s a huge step) and really itching to sign up for a race. Preparing for this race is helping me through other aspects of my life, some difficult moments. So the constant support I receive in my training is a support for other things also. Kind of weird how that works, people don’t really know how far their support goes for an athlete. So if anything, the experience of preparing for this race is something I can look back on fondly. It has been great so far and I know it will continue.  So if the race doesn’t go as planned, I have to look at what I gained to get there…and the fact that I got to eat a lot more without feeling guilty. 🙂

All I can do is prepare and train.  I like to think I’m training smart, building, and getting stronger. Whatever happens on race day happens on race day but I know I am going ready. But I will tell you this, they’ll have to drag me out on a stretcher before I get off that course. I will cross Ironman off my bucket list. ~ Adding Mo Miles

 

 

Ponle Cabeza

So I am currently a little beat up. Muscles hurt, legs heavy, swollen, sleep walking and I’m starting to discover bruises where I never thought I could bruise. None other than the result All4Cycling Camp. This weekend we packed up our kits, helmets, bonk breakers, some chamois cream and caravanned our way up to Clermont, FL. It’s the only place in Florida where we have rolling hills, the fun street of Buckhill, and the infamous (now conquered) Sugarloaf Mountain. We left Thursday night and came back Sunday. Yes, we took a vacation day to go suffer. We have issues like that. I’ve been to Clermont before, I’ve strolled thru Buckhill once and made my way up Sugarloaf but this time was different. This was a trip with 15 hours of scheduled riding. I’m not going to lie, I was downright scared. Not only that, but I was heading up with what I like to call seasoned riders and some seriously strong cyclist.

Let me introduce you to Sugarloaf:

Day one I kept up for a good amount until we hit about three hours and then people kind of started to get smaller and smaller as I fell back. I was a little proud that I wasn’t the first on the van but I did end up there about 3 miles away from the hotel. I was angry, frustrated and just broke, for the last few miles every turn was a climb, I just felt like I had nothing else left. Who put the hotel on the top of a hill? I’m sure this was on purpose. I realized after this ride how grueling the course is going to be. As I shampooed the hours of sweat out of my hair, I genuinely started to worry about the race. Regardless of how disappointed I was in myself for getting on the van, I got great encouragement for what I was able to do. I would not get frustrated with myself the next day (I did).

I started Day 2 with the goal of riding longer than I did the day before, 5 hours. But it was the ride I realized exactly what I can do and how much I can push myself. It wasn’t all about the time and distance but the amount of support I received this ride, it’s beyond words. Pulling while going up two hills and hearing a group of 16 people or so root you on to make sure you made it all the way to the top. To have someone coaching you thru the climbs, pushing you (literally someone pushed me up the last climbs), telling you it’s mental (ponle cabeza became the theme), how proud they were to see you fight thru the pain, to hear them calling your name up ahead to make sure you get there, and just have a group who wanted to see you make it thru the end of the ride as much as you did.  Regardless of my attitude, I got a little cranky and boy did I bitch, they were pushing me. They know what I’m capable of more than I do most of the time. For those that were there reading this, thank you…thank you for everything.

 

Unfortunately by the third day I couldn’t handle the saddle, there wasn’t enough A&D in the world, but I got dressed and rode as long as I could. I finished the weekend with almost 13 hours and about 200 miles of cycling (gotta check the Garmin). Never in my life did I think I was capable of that. The weekend was full of laughs (ab workouts), pain, sweat, wind, rain, hills on hills on hills, adventures, good food and better friends. It was grueling, it was mentally challenging, but if anything I left Clermont a stronger athlete and ready to keep training. ~ Adding Mo Miles

It’s Simple

In the last two years, actually since I started training for anything 4 years ago, I’ve gotten a lot of whys. Why wake up at 5am on the weekend, why pay for a race, why the hell would you do a two-a-day, and why would you possibly want to race for hours? Who does that? I do. Simple, because it’s fun. I know it sounds completely demented but there is no better feeling than a sick workout. Than sitting there drenched in sweat, your leg muscles pulsing, looking at your watch, and knowing you killed it. Being layed out on the sidewalk because you just left everything you had out on the ride. I can now say my day is complete, because there is a feeling of completeness being completely exhausted.

Something like this…

 

It’s simple, because I can. This was part of a conversation with my girls yesterday; you should take nothing for granted. There are people that never or no longer have the opportunity to go out for a run, squat their own weight, or know the feeling of crossing the finish line of a race. They’ll never be able to feel the energy of the athletes or spectators, read those funny signs. I am blessed enough to do this, so I will and I’m thankful every race. It’s simple, because there’s something about feeling the sun on your skin and sweating it out. I don’t think I can ever understand how people can only workout in the gym. I need to be out, I need my vitamin D.

It’s simple, because I don’t want to be average. I want to look back and know I tested my body’s limits. I want to get old, wrinkled and tell stories about crossing finish lines with the girls in the home. I want to look back Monday mornings and know I did more than just drink, eat, and sleep on the weekend. I want to feel accomplished. I want to make checks on my fitness bucketlist, hell on all of my bucketlists. I want to hear the words “you are an Ironman.” But when they ask why, I’ll stick to its fun, mostly because I like to see their reaction. But seriously, it is fun. ~ Adding Mo Miles

R&R

The meaning for R&R has changed, it use to be rest and relaxation, now its’ rest and recovery.  I have a great support system preparing for this race.  To the person who created Whatsapp, I could kiss you! My life is one big party on Whatsapp. It has become essential for my training and motivation.  Sounds silly huh?  Well, I got all these great group chats with friends that also train, love fitness and nutrition.  It’s where I set up training, talk about nutrition, soreness, exhaustion, stupid people, even my bathroom schedule (oh yea, we’re that close).  So after reading my last post, Khania (one of my people), asked if I’d looked into supplements for recovery and pre-workouts.  I knew at some point what I take post workout for recovery has to modify as my workouts increase, but it didn’t really cross my mind that it could be the reason I was so sore, sluggish, and recovering so slowly. I have 3 Ironmen on a chat to learn from and Khania is like my nutrition handbook.  So we all spoke about possible supplements, what I’m eating, and what I could try. 

It really is a trial and error and everyone is different.  Unfortunately, I got blessed with a sensitive stomach, so I really have to be careful.  I’ve had to start kicking my fear of carbs.  I am use to eating as little as carbs as possible cause it goes straight to my mid section. I get this really pretty pudge (very sexy).  So here I am cautiously adding Ezekiel toast at breakfast, brown rice at lunch, and a little sweet potato at dinner.  Not all in the same day, it all depends on my workout that day and the next day.  “Eat for your goal” I was told last night.  It’s a constant conflict between wanting to get a lean (Miami living requires lots of bikinis) and wanting to be able to get thru all the hours of cardio. 

Supplements, I fear them.  Mostly cause they feel like a chemical shit storm and I’m poisoning my body.  Last year when training for my Half Ironman in my search I found Vega One products, which have Vega Sports.  They are plant based supplements and they worked very well for recovery, on my stomach, and also didn’t feel like I was putting crap in my body just because they say I have to. 

So I’m adding those back into my nutrition plan and go from there.  It never crossed my mind that I would have to really plan out my nutrition this much.  My body is a lot more complicated than most, so we’ll see how it goes ~ Adding Mo Miles.

It Hit Me

This past week it finally hit me, like a freight train, what I got myself into.  I got scared.  Going into only my 4^th week of training with only one day off and at least two two-a-days a week, I am pooped (you’ll read this often until August).  It happened Thursday, very unexpectedly.  I was running and it felt like the bones in my legs were about to fall apart (the leg day at the Jungle the morning before didn’t help), no motivation, and just plain tired.  I cut my run short (and got a face of disapproval).  Saturday morning I couldn’t get myself out of bed early enough to make it to the group ride.  I got myself out for a ride but only half of what I was supposed to do.  What the hell am I going to do two months from now? I hear my training cohort as I type this, “Suck it up buttercup.”

I need to find the mental strength to push through the pain and exhaustion. If it hurts, I still run. I need to put aside other aspects of my personal life and not let them affect my training, push thru regardless of what I have going on.  No more cutting workouts short.  I need to strengthen my mind just like I’m doing to my body because where it’s at now, I know I won’t make it thru training and thru the race.  This race means more to me than I can explain, so there is no doubt that mentally training myself is at the top of my list but probably the most difficult.  So how do you train your mind?  Louisville or bust ~ Adding Mo Miles.

Welcome to the Jungle

Around 4-5 years ago I showed up to a bootcamp class in Sweetwater that a friend of mine had started. I was ready for some aerobics and bicep curls with 3 pound weights, what I experienced was a whole lot of crazy.  “We’re warming up with 200 squats”…”Come again?!” and I can honestly say my life has never been the same.  I was hooked on Jungle Fitness.  I couldn’t walk the next day, it took me a good 5 minutes to pee, and by day two I needed a wheel chair.  I kept going back, week after week, class after class.  We ran the streets of sweetwater, up the down escalator of the FIU library (I’m not kidding you), climbed walls, and did reps in the thousands (ONE THOUSAND SQUATS!!). 

Jungle Fitness became more than bootcamp classes, it became a way of life and a family.  Jannett and Edwin, the trainers, gave me an entire new perspective on fitness.  I can honestly say I’ve ran most major streets of Miami (some highways), done pushups under my desk and at Epcot, weather does not stop a workout (even a hurricane), and there are no excuses, period!  No class is ever the same. I’m not lying, I have yet to do the same class twice in 5 years.  It is literally blood, sweat, and sometimes a few tears with the Jungle. 

No I didn’t make it over.

They’ve now opened this incredible facility, Jungle Fitness Compound.  It is a playground for adults.  The trainers have been with me every step of the way.  My first 5K, 10K, half marathon, sprint and olympic tri, and are now helping me get to Louisville.  They’re helping me to build the strength I need to keep me strong in all disciplines with classes and weight training.  I also got a full nutritional meal plan to keep me operating properly.  They continue to push me to my limits, and with good reason, I’m finally reaching my goal weight and everyone one of my fitness goals. 

No matter how crazy the goal, the Jungle is there to help me reach it.  They’ve definitely toughen me up! “Just warming up…” ~ Adding Mo Miles.

My first 5K

A little swim around the pier on South Beach

❤

The Comeback

Call it a comeback! This weekend I can finally say I felt like myself, Monica Maria Rosa.  Also known as Mo, Moma, Le Mo, Le Monique, Momo… I have a lot of nicknames.  It’s been a very frustrating few weeks because I really learned how much of my conditioning I’d lost.  I spent a good three months on “off season.”  That doesn’t happen here in Miami, where we pretty much train year round.  At the end of last season I was drained physically, emotionally, and mentally.  I trained through absolute exhaustion and led to a burn out.  I didn’t want to hear the words swim, bike, run, or race.  I’m still angry with myself for letting this happen but you live, learn, and comeback! I’ve promised myself that I won’t allow anything or anyone let me get there again. 

Our Saturday morning ride started like any other, Mo getting dropped.  I’ve come to terms with it.  But this time it was different cause I wasn’t going to stay behind.  I found another group and went along for the ride.  As their pace creeped up to speeds I’ve never reached before, I started catching groups that had left me behind.  Lungs and legs burning, I was going to stick with them.  Long story short, I made it back to the store 25 minutes faster than last week.  I got off my bike and did a little dance, last week I got off with anger and frustration.  Progress.

For me it was Sunday‘s run that left me focused.  I felt so great running, I ran 15 minutes more than planned.  If you read my last post, you know this is rare…or nonexistent.  I ran longer and faster than I have in months and it felt damn good.  I kept pushing cause I would much rather focus on the pain than my thoughts.  I kept going cause I didn’t want to stop.  It was a beach run, I was in my place.  They almost sent out the search party.  What made the day perfect was breakfast with some of my favorites and then some quality time with my toes in the sand.

The last few weeks had me angry with the decisions I had made.  This weekend left me motivated and determined.  I’ve regained my focus. ~ Adding Mo Miles

 

 

Run Forrest Run

I highly dislike running (pause for reaction).  I don’t get excited about going for run.  For the most part it is not a stress reliever for me, quite the opposite.  I know what you’re thinking, “you’re a triathlete , you’re supposed to enjoy it.  Why do it? You make no sense!! ” It’s simple, the challenge.  To me the sport is synonymous with life.  Sometimes, you’re going to have to do things you don’t want to.  You’re going to go through things that are hard, difficult, draining in every way, and simply put, suck.  Well, that’s running for me and it prepares for those things.  Oh and who are we kidding, it does a body good. 

I go through the five stages of grief every single mile that I run.

1. Denial – I’m not going to run whatever amount of miles in my training calendar.  I am not running an hour! This isn’t happening ….nope this isn’t happening… nooooo!
2. Anger – Damn you running! I hate this sport! Why do I do this?  What is wrong with me?! I hate my coach (in all honesty I don’t)…
3. Bargaining – Ok, what if I run 55 minutes instead of an hour?  Does it really matter?
4. Depression – I’m all alone…I’ve been left behind again (cue in “All by Myself”)
5. Acceptance – I got this! I’m going to get it done!

I’m slowly coming to terms with running again, learning to accept it, and trying not to see it as the Darth Vader of triathlons. It’s a process, a slow one. So how do I make running less miserable?

I try to focus on anything else as soon as the negative starts to creep up and demons take over.  The Cuban international cycling team flying by me, the view of the water if I’m in Key Biscayne, unicorns, pot of gold… anything! Recently, what I’m going to write here has been a great distraction. 

 Every once in a while, I take a run for me. No watch, no pace, no determined distance. Just enjoy and oh my, I may just walk a bit and take it all in.  This is ludicrous to many triathletes and these may be rare for me now. 

Using those I train with as motivation.  I’m surrounded by some incredible and determined athletes.  Seeing how much they improve each and every session and race is motivation enough to keep me going.  But also avoiding a disapproving look from my “assistant” coach is sometimes enough.

I look for those moments in running that make it worth it.  That mile I got my pace lower than I have in the last two weeks, regardless of how bad the other miles were.  That moment I kept a decent running form cause it’s no surprise I have an awful running form.  I resemble a dancing T-Rex.  That moment where it doesn’t matter how hot it is, feels like I’m doing cartwheels on the sun, I’m pushing thru.  Out of 10 runs, I may have 2-3 real good ones.  Those are the ones I focus on, those are the ones that keep me at it. 

All the while “Run Forrest Run” is playing in my head. ~ Adding Mo Miles

Iron What?

There comes a point in your life where you need a change.  Why?  You’re bored, feel unaccomplished, or you woke up one morning and realized you just weren’t satisfied.  I am the kind of person that needs a goal, something to work towards and lately I’ve been doing none of that (more like losing my mind).  I needed a challenge, I needed a change, and I needed something that will take every ounce of my effort. I like to say I’m 70% Type A personality and 30% Type B.  I’m sure many psychologists out there would say that’s not possible. So I did what any logical person would do, I signed up for an Ironman.  Not just any Ironman, one of the most challenging in the US, Ironman Louisville. 

It took me some time to work up to it but once I made the decision, I was surprisingly calm clicking the confirm button.  Well, if you call reaching your maximum heart rate calm.  But to me this is absolutely insane, so I knew I needed to document it.  I have to let out the ups and downs, the anecdotes, challenges, and of course the insanity of it all.  I’m sure you’re thinking “Great, here’s another blog of some triathlete posting how many hours they did on the bike, how far, their heart rate, kilowatts, total calories consumed, etc.”  I highly doubt you’ll get that from me, because for the most part I don’t keep an extensive detail of my heart rate at mile 65 and at 21 mph, nor do I care.  It’s to share the everyday adventures of a fairly newbie traithlete balancing hours of training, a full-time plus job, her Que Pasa USA replica of a family, a fabulous group of lady friends, her almost nonexistent social life, and all other madness.

It’s also to let those out there like me know you are not alone, there are more crazies just like you.  My fellow age groupers that stumbled into the hobby by sheer coincidence, fell in love with it and now are staring at your Ironman e-mail confirmation thinking “what the hell did I just do.” I can’t promise it will always be pretty, grammatically correct (I love run-on sentences) or always revolve around triathlons (shockingly, I have other interest) but I can try to make them as amusing as possible.  Fair warning, triathlon training can get pretty gross; it’s smelly, you try spending 4 hours in the sun and smell like roses.  You find things like old banana peels you forgot in the pockets of your transition bag, or turns out that mystery smell in your car is a pair of socks you from your double brick a week ago. 

This isn’t to pat myself on the back “I’m doing an Ironman”, but as a motivation.  Find motivation from the online community of athletes, to see my progress over the months (and the breakdowns).  I am no coach, far from an expert, and take a lot of what I say with a grain of salt. So hopefully readers never take offense to my blunt honesty, occasional slang and enjoy my post in the morning over coffee ….or in the car at a red light.  ~ Adding Mo Miles.