Tag: transitions

Am I My Own Delilah?—choosing the radical road to grey hair
fitness

Am I My Own Delilah?—choosing the radical road to grey hair

Mina14 Comments

These past months I’ve been feeling the call to begin the transition of accepting my grey hair. Now (and for the past 25 years) I’ve had a variety of shades of red. I started by sticking close to what had been my natural colour (from birth!), before I started to go grey. I have since strayed into bolder territory. At first, I thought I’d stop at 50. Then I didn’t. I wasn’t ready.

Because I get comments on my long curly red hair from strangers almost every day and I am addicted to the attention. Random, unlikely strangers, tell me how beautiful my hair is, how much they love the colour, or they just smile and point at their heads, to let me know my hair has prompted the smile. Just last week, at a drum circle, a woman told me that I was like a dancing flame in the corner with my drum.

I hear how women my age become invisible. I feel visible. I’m scared of not being seen. More. I am a reasonably energetic person. I ran in the forest in Lisbon for two hours this morning, before settling on the couch in my Airbnb to write this. I laugh loud (maybe too loud). I love to dance almost anywhere, anytime. I can get carried away on a wave of enthusiasm. And somewhere along the way, I began to bundle those traits with my hair colour. As if my presence and personality depend on me being a redhead.

Yet, my hair doesn’t feel right anymore. There’s a voice inside that says I’m too old for my hair, or that the colour is inauthentic, that I’m hiding behind my hair, or that it’s just plain time to see what the grey is like. When I see women with beautiful grey hair now, I admire not only their hair, but also their bold authenticity. I feel the call to step up to their courage. Which means, for me, that I will need to cut off all my hair and start over again. I do not want to keep my hair long and slowly grow my grey out. And that radical road also scares the crap out of me, because what if I not only become invisible; what if like Samson, I lose all my strength, energy and enthusiasm for life? In the Book of Judges, Delilah betrays Samson by cutting off his hair, knowing it will destroy his strength. Will I be my own Delilah to my own Samson?  

Forest in Lisbon
Forest path in Lisbon

I have, of course, investigated my options, which is what eventually tipped the scales to the radical road. I had the idea that maybe I’d just dye my whole head blonde, to make it easier to start growing out my hair. I consulted with a colorist I used to go to. Before I started colouring my hair myself with an all-natural-add-only-hot-water product that is shipped from an organic salon in Paris. Here’s the text message I got from my ex-colorist when I asked if he’d be game to help me with my transition-through-long-blonde-hair plan:

Hi Mina. Of course I remember you!

I would not touch your colored hair with a 10-foot pole, considering you’ve been using henna! Sorry

I have seen the detrimental effects of trying to correct or remove henna color firsthand. Your hair could turn green, or just break off randomly so you end up with a “chemical haircut”

While henna itself is “natural”, so is snake venom and gasoline

Henna is a metallic vegetable dye that leaves a permanent residue on the hair that can react really horribly with any other treatments.

If you truly want to go grey, the best (and in my opinion the only) option is to just wait it out as your hair grows in naturally grey

For my 2 cents, no matter how young and beautiful your face is…gray hair makes you look at least 10 years older As long as you’re ready to look, and be treated, as “old”, go for it!

Well okay then. Thank you. It’s not like it’s the first time I’ve heard this kind of opinion. I have friends who have said that going grey will age me by 10 years, instantly.

Setting aside his hostile tone and harsh judgment of grey hair, I did some research into what he said about henna. I asked another hairdresser who confirmed that henna was bad. He generously dyed a sample lock of hair blonde, to show me just how wrong things could go. I now have a lock of yellow yarn doll hair.  I did further research and confirmed, to my distress, that henna is indeed quite toxic and contains heavy metals, which end up in the body. So much for my pure, organic Parisian colour. I’m not putting that in my hair again, since I’d also be putting it in my kidneys again.

As I’ve been agonizing about my hair, a friend sent me this article about taking a year of celibacy: The Sexiest Year of My Life Involved No Sex  So, if I cut off all my hair and let it be grey, should I also prepare to be celibate? And not by choice, according to my ex-colorist. I know my friend didn’t intend the article to land that way. Yet, I do worry that my colleagues at work will no longer respect me. That my friends won’t want to hang out with me. And yes, that no one will love me or want to have sex with me. Ever again. Apparently, my own judgments are worse than my ex-colorist’s.

These fears are all the reasons to go for it. Reset. Restart. It is time to find out if I am more than my hair. November 15 is the day. A friend has undertaken to accompany me during the process. To hold my hand. Console. Celebrate. Scrape me off the floor or ceiling, depending on what happens to my psyche.   

Yes, I know, I am not making an irrevocable decision. In my teens and twenties, I was constantly changing my look. I can start colouring my hair again (just not with henna). Hair grows back. What’s time anyway? 

Onward, with curiosity.

fitness · racing · triathalon

In Transition: A Non-Expert Chimes in about T1 and T2

Tracy I9 Comments

transition set-up, Kincardine Women's Triathlon 2014 -- running shoes, bike shoes, ball cap, bathing cap, socks, gel shots, bike helmet, race bib on belt, small towel, on a half towel beside my bike.
My transition set-up, Kincardine Women’s Triathlon 2014.
As Kincardine approaches, a couple of my friends who are doing a multi-sport event for the first time have asked me about the transitions. People spend a lot of time talking about multi-sport training, but I remember like it was yesterday when, two years ago in the lead up to my first triathlon (also the Kincardine Women’s Triathlon) it dawned on me that I needed to “set up” my transition area and I had no clue what that meant.

Enter a whole new thing to worry about.  So, in the hopes of fending off worries for some of the newbies out there, today’s post is about setting up the transition area and about managing the transitions as swiftly as possible (in relative terms — there will be nothing here about a running bike start in bare feet with the shoes already clipped into the pedals).

But before you get to the transition, it’s a good idea to have a checklist of what you need to pack. This one is liberally borrowed and adapted from a checklist that a friend of mine who joined a triathlon training group at our local Y gave me. I’ve added some of my own notes in square brackets and though I do not know who the author(s) of this document were, I am grateful to them for providing some guidance and for much of the content that follows (yes, I’m an academic).

For the swim: wetsuit [if you’re wearing one], goggles, swimsuit or triathlon suit, swim cap or race cap (in your race kit–you’ll only need both if the water is chilly), 2 towels (a set-up towel and a drying towel–[I have found that a small towel is good for drying]).  [Note: I also need very good ear plugs because excruciating ear aches took me out of swimming for a number of years until I discovered ear plugs for swimming.]

For the bike: bike [with adequately inflated tires], helmet, socks [if wearing], bike shoes [if clipless pedals, otherwise running shoes], sunglasses, shirt if you’re riding in a swimsuit, with race # pinned to the front [I recommend a race belt because ideally your number will be in the back for the bike, the front for the run], a pump, portable flat kit on the bike [assuming you know how to change a tire, of course, since it won’t do you a whole lot of good if you don’t know how to use it], full water bottle on the bike in your water bottle holder.

For the run: running shoes, hat

Also recommended: sunscreen (sport style), water, energy drink, banana and whatever other race nutrition you like to have on hand for pre- and post-race, as well as during, duffle bag or triathlon bag for carrying everything, jacket if it’s cold, body glide (for helping with the wetsuit and also for bike shorts chamois or other sensitive areas where you might get chafing)

Optional: race belt (attach number), quick-tie shoelaces, GPS watch, garbage bags in case of rain or wet ground [I also pack a shoe horn and it saves me time because I can pre-tie my running shoe laces]

Okay, so that’s what you need to bring. I have an excellent Zoot triathlon backpack style tri-bag for toting everything. It’s got multiple compartments including a special spot for the bike helmet and another for the wetsuit.

Now it’s when I saw that list that I started to panic. But maybe you’re one of those more reasonable people who can keep in mind that knowledge is power, and knowing what to pack puts you in a better position to handle race day well.

So, as promised, here are the goods on transitions, based on my limited experience over the past couple of years.

Set-up

1. When you get to the race, the first thing you will do is rack your bike. The racks are usually grouped by event (triathlon/duathlon) and by either bib number or age group/gender.  Find your rack and pick a spot. Hook your bike on the cross bar by the seat, and if there is a bike beside, hook yours in so it’s facing the opposite way (so you’re alternating sides of the rack and aren’t on top of each other during transitions).

Get a visual bearing on your location — both the location of the rack (e.g. fifth rack on the right as you come into the transition from the swim, lines up with the trash can over there) and the location of your bike within the rack (e.g. the first bike after the third post). Some people put something neon or otherwise distinctive on or near their bike so they can see it when they come in.

You also want to be clear before the race start exactly where you come in from the swim, where the bike exit is, and where the run exit is.

2. Fold your ground towel in half and lay it on the ground right beside your bike. Space is limited and you are expected not to take up a lot of space. If you look at the picture at the top of the post, that’s about all the space I had.

3. Place bike helmet, straps open and hollow side up, either on your handlebars or on the towel beside your bike, and put the sunglasses in the helmet with their arms open, ready to put on.

4. Water bottle on bike, full.

5. Shoes and socks on towel, laces undone and ready to put on (or, if you’re like me, laces done just how you want them, plus a shoe horn).

6. Shirt on towel with bib pinned to front OR if you’re wearing a suit have race belt ready with the bib number attached and the belt open, placed on your helmet or shoes.

7. Put your drying towel on the set-up so that it’s easy to grab when you get back from your swim.

8. Put your running cap or visor with your running shoes.

9. Race nutrition if needed should also be on the towel or already on your bike, ready to go. Sometimes I put an extra water bottle on the towel to grab a quick drink before heading out but I’m not sure that’s recommended since it takes up valuable transition time.

T1: Swim to Bike

1. As you’re coming out of the water, start running towards the transition. Put your goggles on your head (leave goggles and swimcap on so you have two free hands). Peel your wetsuit down to your waist. Finish taking it off when you get to your set-up. Leave it, cap and goggles on the ground beside your bike (not on the rack — that’s not allowed).

2. Step on towel to dry feet as quickly as possible (they don’t need to be perfect!) and then pull on your socks.

3. Put on your bike shoes (or running shoes)

4. Put on your t-shirt or, if wearing a tri suit, your race belt with number to the back.

5. Put on your sunglasses.

6. Don the helmet and do up the strap — you must not touch your bike until the strap is done up (doing so is grounds for disqualification).

7. Run with your bike to the “Bike Out” and when you get to the “mount/dismount line” (and not before!), cross the line, get on your bike, and ride as if someone is chasing you and you don’t want to get caught.

T2: Bike to run

1. Dismount at the dismount line (do not cross the line on your bike or you may be disqualified) and run with your bike back to your transition spot.

2. Re-rack the bike.

3. Remove your helmet (make sure you do this in the right order: re-rack the bike first, remove the helmet second)

4. Change your shoes if you’re wearing bike shoes

5. Switch your number to the front if you’re wearing a race belt

6. Grab your hat

6. Run out the “Run Out” chute. I find this is a good time to bring in positive self-talk, smile at people, and remind myself of my awesomeness for being out there and doing this!

Finish Line

The Y-group’s checklist and transition guidelines sheet says this about the finish line:

Big smile for camera and FANS You made it!! Enjoy the moment; congratulate yourself and your fellow competitors. You are now a Triathlete!

Yay you!

The finish line is for hugging friends and loved ones and fellow competitors, for photo-ops, for re-hydrating, and for finding some post-race food. At Kincardine, they always serve sausages, which, as a vegan, I don’t eat. But there is also a little snack hut on the beach and they make awesome fries. So that is my post-rate “nutrition” after Kincardine.

I hope this annotated overview helps to alleviate some stress for anyone who is doing a triathlon for the first time, including my newbie friends who are joining me at my favourite event of the season, The Kincardine Women’s Triathlon, Saturday, July 11th, 2015.

Other tips and suggestions are more than welcome! Please comment with them if you have experience to share!