Saturday 9/15: If this is paradise...

Today was our second group ride. We did Paradise loop again cuz Modest Mouse wouldn't let us onto Treasure Island. Neva was rocking it, urged on by her all-day partner, Coach Neil. She said she felt better already, didn't use her breaks as much on the steep, curvy downhills Tiburon is known for. And none of us were run over in the merge across the 101, which is always a bit hairy.
I tried to ignore the fact that my bike doesn't fit me. But then, as if trying to get my attention, it wouldn't let me shift into the easy gear wheel (that's the technical term). Coach Ed thankfully fixed it, after watching me struggle to the top of the first big hill and suggesting that I downshift.
"Um, great idea. But it won't let me."
At least my instincts in wanting to shift to a lower gear were right.
Worth noting, on the ride we passed about 1,000 people with garbage bags scurrying over the Bay like a determined horde of crabs. It was California Coastal Cleanup Day and the California Coastal Commission Web site says more than 50,000 volunteers statewide show up to what the Guinness Book of World Records says is the world's largest garbage collection.
"Since the program started in 1985, more than 750,000 Californians have removed more than 12 million pounds of debris from our state's shorelines and coast," the site says.
Me and my TAG teammates did our part by not littering and smiling at the cute little people participating.
We finished the ride in about an hour, stashed our bikes in our cars, and put on our running shoes. Then the evil tyrant made us run for 20 minutes to get used to the bike-run transitions.
My legs felt like lead after the 18-mile ride. Coach Neil says: "That never gets any better." We were supposed to achieve a "negative split." Neva and I ran 10 minutes out and 9 minutes back in. We never saw Kristy who probably ran twice as far in the same time. Then we were finished, sweating, sunburnt and STARVING. We went to the Dipsea Cafe (best breakfast in the Bay Area) afterwards to do the opposite of what the nutrition coach had told us. There was no red powder (a suggestion by the nutritionist) ingested, but lots of eggs and biscuits, benedict, waffles and coffee. And we all went home to take a nap.

Week 1: Meet my friends

As I've never competed in an Olympic distance triathlon, I enlisted the help of Coaches Neil and Laura Fraser, who run Tri More Fitness multi-sport coaching and are part of San Francisco's Golden Gate Triathlon Club. I paid about $400 bucks to join the Tri and Give (TAG) program, a 10-week course that includes 3 coached workouts per week, plus weekly detailed workout schedules.
The $400 (which includes my annual Golden Gate Tri Club membership) insures that I will make it to every coached workout. Spending money is amazingly motivating when you're poor.
It also includes instruction in the kind of gear to buy, transitioning, dealing with injury and anything else that might be useful on the day of the big race.
Our finale event is the Treasure Island Triathlon Nov. 9-11, a 1.5 k swim, 40k bike and a 10k bike. This is the link.
There are about 20 of us in the TAG program of varying abilities. For most of us, there's one discipline we excel in, one we are mediocre at and one that keeps us up at night with worry.
For me, the order is swim, bike and oh my god, run.

SWIM/BIKE/RUN in that order
I never knew I could swim pretty fast until I started swimming this year and started timing myself against others. Sure enough, I find swimming fast pretty easy. As far as biking goes, I have more experience with mountain bikes than road bikes. I don't have the endurance part of road biking down yet, but I'm comfortable enough on a bike to feel OK on 20 mile rides. Running is a different story. My heart rate shoots up to about 187 in the first 20 paces of any run and it never looks back. So the funny part about me is I get increasingly slower as a triathlon goes on. How to beat the exponential frustration that creates with each passing minute of the race, will require Coach Neil's help.

RUN/BIKE/SWIM
In the first few workouts I met two friends who have their own anxiety-inducing disciplines. My new friend Kristy, 25, has never done a triathlon before. She, like I, was a rugby player in college. (A flanker, like me, for anyone who follows it). So while we have much in common, that (insert gender-based derogatory name here) is fast. She did her 2-mile test in well below 16 minutes. And she's even faster on the 200m, 400m, 600m, 800m, 600m, 400m, 200m with one-lap recovery laps between exercise we did in our second coached track workout. Kristy, however, calls the swim workouts: 'the drownings.' And that will be her biggest challenge. She plans to try and barter for a wet suite. "Otherwise, I'll just get the $400 one," she says.

SWIM/RUN/BIKE
Our other friend Neva had to sit out the first workout because she didn't even own a bike. Neva's a former field hockey player and matches me pretty well on the run. We both did the timed 2-mile test during our first coached track workout in 18:51. I am glad I have her to run with. Neva just bought a 49" Specialized and found the first 18-mile Paradise loop right pretty challenging.
"I pretty much spent the rest of the day in bed after that reading US Weekly," she said.
Despite her magazine preference and her weekly mani/pedi ritual post Saturday workout, Neva is hard core. During our swim workout last week we all practiced swimming en masse to get used to the scuffle that is triathlon open water swimming. I mentioned to Neva that I liked full contact swimming. "Yeah," she said. "I was dropping 'bows on the brown-haired girl the whole way." See what I mean?


Check reluctant triathlete frequently to follow our progress.

How to find a bike that fits

Today I identified the scariest part about deciding to do a triathlon for the first time.
And no. It's not potentially drowning.
The scariest part about triathlons is buying a bike.
Seriously.
Bikes are expensive. And complicated.
I don't know anything about bikes.
I've purchased bikes. I've ridden bikes. And I can change and pump up the tires. But that's about where it ends.
So when I bought my $1100 Specialized Comp brand new from a dude on Craigslist I admittedly didn't know quite enough about it.
I had a 52" women's Trek in Chattanooga where I learned to ride on the road. And it had always felt too too small. So I figured a 54" frame would be fine. That's logical, right?
Ash Beal at the Sports Basement in the Presidio set me straight. He took one, long look at me holding my bike when I walked in for my fitting and said, "There's no way I'm going to be able to fit you on that bike."
I just stood there. Slightly shocked.
Then he said: "You have really short legs."
Man.
It's bad enough he's just told me I spent $1100 on a bike that doesn't fit me. But does he have to insult me, too?
Actually, Ash was fabulous. He took my measurements and tried to advise me on the size of bike I needed.

Sure enough, mine was a good 5-7 cm too tall for me.

I told Ash about the Trek I used to ride and how it always felt too small. He said that was because I have a long torso and the aforementioned short legs. He told me no matter what, I need a men's bike which will have a longer cross bar.
"Anything long and low," Ash said.
And he told me that the most important measurement was from the middle of the seat to the middle of the handlebars. Mine is supposed to be 654 cm.
Basically Ash talked me into selling the bike and trying to get another that fit me better. Ash said I could call him if I found a bike and wanted to know if it would work. And because he couldn't fit me to my bike, he didn't charge me for the fitting. So now I'm off to Craigslist, looking for a 49" men's bike with a 654 cm seat to handle bar measurement. My boyfriend prefers carbon fiber, but at this point, I'll just take something that fits.
My advice: Go get fitted for a bike BEFORE you buy one.