When I was in Kona last October for the Ironman World Championships, my father made a major career decision. After 42 years of living and working in Montreal running the family business, he was offered a new career opportunity that would take him to Carlsbad, California, for at least 3 weeks of each month. It’s ironic to me that my father is living in the city that thrives on a culture of triathlon, running, cycling and holistic living—my dream city. Fortunately, he has enough room in his rented home to accommodate a visitor every once in a while.
While I was lucky enough to have had a few weeks of sunshine and warm weather while in Florida for the Christmas holidays, the month of January in Vancouver has been breaking weather records for rain, snow and cold temperatures. I always run outdoors, but it was rarely dry or warm enough to ride outside. The one time I tried it, I spent the rest of the day defrosting. My indoor Computrainer workouts have been creative enough to keep me motivated and consistent but I was certainly yearning for some scenery.
My first visit to “Casa Papa” in Carlsbad was in mid-January. I snuck out of town for a half-marathon on Sunday, January 20th. The race was a success, as I focused on building intensity and leaving some kick for the last few miles. Having not done one iota of speed work to date, race pace offered a terrific injection of intensity (top 12 female overall), I managed to finish strong, which is always a huge reward. Once back in wet Vancouver, I started to add some cycling hours into my weekly training and hosted Britni Bakk, my ultimate training partner, in my garage for an epic day of riding and running. We encouraged each other to stay strong for the entire five hours we sweated it out.
Britni was preparing for a wind tunnel test in San Diego in the beginning of February. She encouraged me to come along for our own self-run, week-long bike camp.
Britni and I arrived at Casa Papa on Saturday, February 4th. Tired, pale and overwhelmed by the potential hours we were going to log in the days ahead, we organized ourselves for our first day of riding with Kevin Purcell, my coach. We woke up to torrential weather on Sunday. Rain pounded down, and gusty winds howled from every direction. But surely, we thought, we can handle this—we are from Vancouver! Kevin was in full gear with 2400 calories on-board, and booties and multiple layers on top. Us girls, on the other hand, felt underdressed and ill-prepared. As we coasted along the ocean at 45 km/hour (tail wind), Britni rode through some glass and punctured her rented Zipp Tubulars. This mishap required us to stop for ten minutes to repair the puncture with popsicle fingers, blue lips and chattering teeth (thank you Kevin!). This entire scenario was not my idea of quality riding in California. I demanded a pit stop at Starbucks to warm up, but by now we were too chilled to recover. Kevin carried on (amazing!) and Britni and I sheepishly called for a taxi to take us home. We salvaged the day by finding treadmills under a rooftop and opted for a mid-length run to get our hearts working.
We started fresh on Monday and insisted on riding the exact route that had defeated us the day before: coastal through Camp Pendleton up to San Clemente. The sun was beaming, as it should in California. Kevin joined up for a “Take Two.” This was my first ride with Kevin so it was great to have him see me on the bike. We headed out at an easy clip, before upping the pace and effort while riding on the camp’s grounds and pathways. After a lengthy but wonderful stop at a bakery in San Clemente we headed back. Ride time was upwards of 5.5 hours. Britni and I did a short run off the bike to stretch out our legs and feel the post-ride burn!
Tuesday was Britni’s test day so she ventured into San Diego for the morning and experimented with the experts on positioning, equipment and pacing. I decided to try out the UCSD Masters Swim Program (18 lanes of 25 yards!) at 6:00 a.m., followed by a run through Del Mar. We met for an easy spin in the afternoon down to La Jolla and already she was looking more aero and sleek!
Wednesday was a moderately epic day. We had a late-morning ride planned with Kevin that would take us up some gnarly climbs inland from the coast. With that in mind, we wanted to save some juice for the afternoon yet still squeeze in a swim and run. The two of us swam again with UCSD and jogged around the campus for half an hour. I was feeling pretty stoked to be heading inland for the infamous climbing plus I was excited to explore the backcountry. As always, the plan was to head out easy, and save something for the end. Seems we were all successful in following this plan. It was an out-and-back route with the turnaround in a tiny town called Santa Ysabel. Kevin snacked on a pound of processed turkey full of sodium, protein and fat. This gave Britni and I the giggles for the rest of the afternoon. Kevin and I worked well together on a twisty backcountry ride, the Old Julien Highway. We stuck together and navigated the turns and descents to ensure the fastest yet safest path home. Britni isn’t much for sitting on the back of a wheel so we were always making sure she was just around the bend. With gusto and charm, she always was. We were back to our cars in 4.5 hours, sufficiently spent but high on adrenaline.
Thursday was classified as a highly epic day. My body was certainly feeling the work and hours we were putting in on our bikes but it didn’t seem to be draining my strength or enthusiasm, so I was fairly eager to go long and climb high that morning. Kevin and Britni were less exuberant but willing troupers. We all left Casa Papa with some uncertainty of ride length, destination and best roads to follow. Normally I am one to have the exact route laid out but for some reason we left our plans wide open, and paid for it later. The end result: 12,000 feet of climbing, 7:18 hours of riding, thousands of calories consumed, and one hitch hike, taxi ride and many emotions later, we arrived back at Casa Papa, in one piece, but exhausted and depleted. Kevin and I were communicating without words after the six-hour marker. He has a fun thread to read about the ride:
http://www.coachkp.com/cgi-bin/config.pl?read=4617
Neither Britni nor I knew how we were going to feel on Friday. Regardless, we planned on swimming at 6:00 a.m. with a new swim group out of Oceanside. The air temperature was close to 5 degrees in the morning so jumping into an outdoor pool was a bracing beginning to the day. Our body temperatures plummeted while we changed into our run clothing to jog the race course of the California Half Ironman (the next race on our schedules-March 31st, 2008). It’s a beautiful route that parallels the beach in Oceanside and rolls through a residential area for two loops of 10 kilometres. We ran one loop and headed straight to Starbucks, followed by a well-deserved afternoon of rest, recuperation, a tour of my Dad’s Carlsbad-based office (Ashworth Inc.) and shopping therapy with my mom.
Saturday was our last day on the bikes. Britni and I made it a “girls’ ride only” and downloaded a route from the Map My Ride website, which highlights an endless variety of routes from around the world. This one was supposed to be 123 km. Due to a typo in my scribbled directions, we turned it into a 160 km ride and saw more of the county than we bargained for. Once onto the right roads (Gopher Canyon Road and Old Castle Road) we were charging aero up and down the rolling hills and navigating tight switchbacks. Our biggest climb was up Cole Grade Road, which when looking at a flat map that morning hardly seemed intimidating. Britni, in her 23 cassette, had her endurance, strength and weights workout built into one! For whatever reason, neither of us was bothered by the 6 hours on the bike that day. We were both happy to be pedaling along through some of the most glorious and cycling-friendly countryside we’d ridden. I will vividly remember riding the last stretch of our homemade route: down Rancho Sante Fe to a right on La Costa Ave (love the names of the streets) to a right into Casa Papa’s driveway. We slipped on our runners and headed out for a jog down the boulevard towards the ocean. Again, we just mimicked the running motion and saved the tough intervals for another day.
The biggest workout is always packing after a week of training. The duties include doing last-minute laundry, packing the bike, leaving out morning workout clothes, breakfast food, one water bottle, a gel or two and your heart-rate monitor. I had convinced Britni to stay an extra night so that we could do get in one more quality workout: a half-marathon race in San Dieguito County. We woke up at 5:00 a.m. to run 21.1 kilometres on very tired legs (not unlike an Ironman). Pre-race I was feeling sheepish about convincing Britni to punish herself further, since I knew the race would be a suffer fest. However, in true San Diego style, hundreds of healthy, fit people toed the start line and motivated us to put our best race face on. We started the race together, but somehow separated as we climbed one of many steep and long hills, only to reconnect after the finish, both with smiling, satisfied faces and mutually admitting that we did in fact have some kick left in our legs. My parents were there to greet us at the finish and share in some of the wonderful post-race energy.
After the race, Britni and I drove directly to Starbucks, changed into our plane clothes, ordered our venti, extra-hot, extra-foamy, no-whip, no-sugar, no-water soymilk green tea matcha lattes and drove straight to the airport, bound for the cooler temperatures of Vancouver.
I think I should approach Starbucks about a sponsorship deal.
Comments/feedback: cfletcher@fletcherlg.com
While I was lucky enough to have had a few weeks of sunshine and warm weather while in Florida for the Christmas holidays, the month of January in Vancouver has been breaking weather records for rain, snow and cold temperatures. I always run outdoors, but it was rarely dry or warm enough to ride outside. The one time I tried it, I spent the rest of the day defrosting. My indoor Computrainer workouts have been creative enough to keep me motivated and consistent but I was certainly yearning for some scenery.
My first visit to “Casa Papa” in Carlsbad was in mid-January. I snuck out of town for a half-marathon on Sunday, January 20th. The race was a success, as I focused on building intensity and leaving some kick for the last few miles. Having not done one iota of speed work to date, race pace offered a terrific injection of intensity (top 12 female overall), I managed to finish strong, which is always a huge reward. Once back in wet Vancouver, I started to add some cycling hours into my weekly training and hosted Britni Bakk, my ultimate training partner, in my garage for an epic day of riding and running. We encouraged each other to stay strong for the entire five hours we sweated it out.
Britni was preparing for a wind tunnel test in San Diego in the beginning of February. She encouraged me to come along for our own self-run, week-long bike camp.
Britni and I arrived at Casa Papa on Saturday, February 4th. Tired, pale and overwhelmed by the potential hours we were going to log in the days ahead, we organized ourselves for our first day of riding with Kevin Purcell, my coach. We woke up to torrential weather on Sunday. Rain pounded down, and gusty winds howled from every direction. But surely, we thought, we can handle this—we are from Vancouver! Kevin was in full gear with 2400 calories on-board, and booties and multiple layers on top. Us girls, on the other hand, felt underdressed and ill-prepared. As we coasted along the ocean at 45 km/hour (tail wind), Britni rode through some glass and punctured her rented Zipp Tubulars. This mishap required us to stop for ten minutes to repair the puncture with popsicle fingers, blue lips and chattering teeth (thank you Kevin!). This entire scenario was not my idea of quality riding in California. I demanded a pit stop at Starbucks to warm up, but by now we were too chilled to recover. Kevin carried on (amazing!) and Britni and I sheepishly called for a taxi to take us home. We salvaged the day by finding treadmills under a rooftop and opted for a mid-length run to get our hearts working.
We started fresh on Monday and insisted on riding the exact route that had defeated us the day before: coastal through Camp Pendleton up to San Clemente. The sun was beaming, as it should in California. Kevin joined up for a “Take Two.” This was my first ride with Kevin so it was great to have him see me on the bike. We headed out at an easy clip, before upping the pace and effort while riding on the camp’s grounds and pathways. After a lengthy but wonderful stop at a bakery in San Clemente we headed back. Ride time was upwards of 5.5 hours. Britni and I did a short run off the bike to stretch out our legs and feel the post-ride burn!
Tuesday was Britni’s test day so she ventured into San Diego for the morning and experimented with the experts on positioning, equipment and pacing. I decided to try out the UCSD Masters Swim Program (18 lanes of 25 yards!) at 6:00 a.m., followed by a run through Del Mar. We met for an easy spin in the afternoon down to La Jolla and already she was looking more aero and sleek!
Wednesday was a moderately epic day. We had a late-morning ride planned with Kevin that would take us up some gnarly climbs inland from the coast. With that in mind, we wanted to save some juice for the afternoon yet still squeeze in a swim and run. The two of us swam again with UCSD and jogged around the campus for half an hour. I was feeling pretty stoked to be heading inland for the infamous climbing plus I was excited to explore the backcountry. As always, the plan was to head out easy, and save something for the end. Seems we were all successful in following this plan. It was an out-and-back route with the turnaround in a tiny town called Santa Ysabel. Kevin snacked on a pound of processed turkey full of sodium, protein and fat. This gave Britni and I the giggles for the rest of the afternoon. Kevin and I worked well together on a twisty backcountry ride, the Old Julien Highway. We stuck together and navigated the turns and descents to ensure the fastest yet safest path home. Britni isn’t much for sitting on the back of a wheel so we were always making sure she was just around the bend. With gusto and charm, she always was. We were back to our cars in 4.5 hours, sufficiently spent but high on adrenaline.
Thursday was classified as a highly epic day. My body was certainly feeling the work and hours we were putting in on our bikes but it didn’t seem to be draining my strength or enthusiasm, so I was fairly eager to go long and climb high that morning. Kevin and Britni were less exuberant but willing troupers. We all left Casa Papa with some uncertainty of ride length, destination and best roads to follow. Normally I am one to have the exact route laid out but for some reason we left our plans wide open, and paid for it later. The end result: 12,000 feet of climbing, 7:18 hours of riding, thousands of calories consumed, and one hitch hike, taxi ride and many emotions later, we arrived back at Casa Papa, in one piece, but exhausted and depleted. Kevin and I were communicating without words after the six-hour marker. He has a fun thread to read about the ride:
http://www.coachkp.com/cgi-bin/config.pl?read=4617
Neither Britni nor I knew how we were going to feel on Friday. Regardless, we planned on swimming at 6:00 a.m. with a new swim group out of Oceanside. The air temperature was close to 5 degrees in the morning so jumping into an outdoor pool was a bracing beginning to the day. Our body temperatures plummeted while we changed into our run clothing to jog the race course of the California Half Ironman (the next race on our schedules-March 31st, 2008). It’s a beautiful route that parallels the beach in Oceanside and rolls through a residential area for two loops of 10 kilometres. We ran one loop and headed straight to Starbucks, followed by a well-deserved afternoon of rest, recuperation, a tour of my Dad’s Carlsbad-based office (Ashworth Inc.) and shopping therapy with my mom.
Saturday was our last day on the bikes. Britni and I made it a “girls’ ride only” and downloaded a route from the Map My Ride website, which highlights an endless variety of routes from around the world. This one was supposed to be 123 km. Due to a typo in my scribbled directions, we turned it into a 160 km ride and saw more of the county than we bargained for. Once onto the right roads (Gopher Canyon Road and Old Castle Road) we were charging aero up and down the rolling hills and navigating tight switchbacks. Our biggest climb was up Cole Grade Road, which when looking at a flat map that morning hardly seemed intimidating. Britni, in her 23 cassette, had her endurance, strength and weights workout built into one! For whatever reason, neither of us was bothered by the 6 hours on the bike that day. We were both happy to be pedaling along through some of the most glorious and cycling-friendly countryside we’d ridden. I will vividly remember riding the last stretch of our homemade route: down Rancho Sante Fe to a right on La Costa Ave (love the names of the streets) to a right into Casa Papa’s driveway. We slipped on our runners and headed out for a jog down the boulevard towards the ocean. Again, we just mimicked the running motion and saved the tough intervals for another day.
The biggest workout is always packing after a week of training. The duties include doing last-minute laundry, packing the bike, leaving out morning workout clothes, breakfast food, one water bottle, a gel or two and your heart-rate monitor. I had convinced Britni to stay an extra night so that we could do get in one more quality workout: a half-marathon race in San Dieguito County. We woke up at 5:00 a.m. to run 21.1 kilometres on very tired legs (not unlike an Ironman). Pre-race I was feeling sheepish about convincing Britni to punish herself further, since I knew the race would be a suffer fest. However, in true San Diego style, hundreds of healthy, fit people toed the start line and motivated us to put our best race face on. We started the race together, but somehow separated as we climbed one of many steep and long hills, only to reconnect after the finish, both with smiling, satisfied faces and mutually admitting that we did in fact have some kick left in our legs. My parents were there to greet us at the finish and share in some of the wonderful post-race energy.
After the race, Britni and I drove directly to Starbucks, changed into our plane clothes, ordered our venti, extra-hot, extra-foamy, no-whip, no-sugar, no-water soymilk green tea matcha lattes and drove straight to the airport, bound for the cooler temperatures of Vancouver.
I think I should approach Starbucks about a sponsorship deal.
Comments/feedback: cfletcher@fletcherlg.com
