I ran a 15k a couple of weeks ago called Bold in the Cold - great day - slow run. Deb PR'd the half marathon on her way to the Cowtown full marathon (her first) in February.
Then today we decided to run the Texas Half.
Half marathon - well....it got done. You have all heard of a PR or PB - that's a personal record or a personal best. Mine was a PW - personal worst. I wasn't expecting a PR but I wasn't expecting what I got either. I am not really trained right now so that is one reason/excuse. I stopped 3 times to pee - thought of y'all every time and I stopped 3-4 times to stretch. My hip flexors/psoas were acting up. There is some ART - Active Release Therapy in my future.
It was also a tougher course than I expected and really windy.
Takeaway - not every race is going to be a great race / PR. Some days are just goin to be tough - and then we get it done. We are also smart and don't hurt ourselves. We also start re-evaluating our goals/plans for the day. Today became about encouraging others. Today became about picking up people who seemed to be hurting. ( I am beginning to think this may be my calling - I LOVE getting people to the finish line - especially their first.). Today became about others - maybe it should have been that way all along.
Happy weekend everybody.
Saturday, January 28, 2012
Saturday, December 3, 2011
Once Upon a Time
Once upon a time, in 1982, a young man watched Wide World of Sports and saw a woman named Julie Moss lose control of her faculties on a road in Hawaii just a few yards from the finish line of the Ironman World Championships. She finished, she staggered, fell, walked, crawled, cried, refused help and she finished. The young man wondered why anyone would want to do that - no matter how cool it seemed. How unbelievable it was that a human could do all that in one day - a 2.4 mile swim, a 112 mile bike ride and then a 26.2 mile run - and live to tell about it. Once a year, from that time, that young man watched the Ironman World Championships and was awed by the athletes that conquered "the toughest day in endurance sports."
And then one day it happened, the offhand comment by a stranger in a locker room planted a seed, that germinated and was harvested at a micro sprint triathlon a few months later. One thing led to another and then in 2009, I completed my first Ironman in Arizona. It has consumed me. I think of Ironman every day. Last year, I completed Ironman Florida - another 140.6 mile journey in less than 17 hours. I cannot begin to describe what the finish line feels like - if you have done it, you know you can't put it into words, and if you haven't done it, well, you wouldn't understand anyway.
Two weeks ago, I once again found myself in Tempe, AZ, a few days from starting my third Ironman. This one would be different. Due to a new job in July and a relocation in September, my training was almost non-existent. Not a good thing and certainly not recommended. You hear people talking about training 20-30 hours a week and you realize that you have hardly trained that much in total (not really but it was almost that bad). I knew what to expect, I have total respect for Ironman and I knew it was going to be a rough day. But I was going to give it a shot - I was going to work through the day and if I ran out of time - well, I would just have to deal with that. I didn't know how I would feel about it, but I knew disappointment would be an understatement. In the few days leading up to the race I attempted to stay calm, I knew I couldn't afford to expend any energy in any non-productive ways. There were four of use from the "You Are An Ironman" book there as well as Jacques Steinberg, the author, we did a panel on Friday afternoon that was a blast and then signed books in the merchandise tent for a few hours on Friday and a short time on Saturday.
And then I was awake at 2am on Sunday morning eating. Yep, breakfast at 2am, and not because you have been out partying - my party was on Sunday. So it was sports drink, banana and peanut butter and jelly sandwich. Then back to bed and awake again at 4:45. Shower, dress, grab the final checklist and stuff and off we go. Body marking, airing the tires, filling the bottles all went well and then it was over the the little tree for Mark and I to meet up with Debbie and Mark's wife and daughter. Shortly thereafter, we squeezed ourselves into our wetsuits, kissed the girls goodbye and began to make our way to the swim start area. I wanted to get in the water in time to easily get out to the start area without rushing but I also didn't want to get in too early as the water was COLD. The report was low 50 degrees water. I believe the report.
BOOM! Off go the pros and then very quickly thereafter, BOOM!!! and we are swimming. Mark and I were right together at the start and that would be one of the few times I saw him that day. It was on....work the swim....bumping....smacking....hitting....getting hit....minor kicks...down the first leg I go. All the "washing machine" stuff is real, but it has never really been that bad for me. I am a pretty slow swimmer so maybe I am just behind it all very quickly and never really feel it, but there are a lot of people around and that can be a bit unnerving at first. Halfway through the swim I checked my watch and was pleased. Just a couple of minutes slower than the last two years. Just keep working and keep your heart rate down. The second half of the swim was long and uneventful and I think they kept moving the bridge further and further away from me. Finally I turn toward the steps and grind my way across Tempe Town Lake to be pulled from the lake by a great volunteer. I cannot say enough for the volunteers all day - and half the night - they were all great. Got the wetsuit stripped off and headed to the changing tent, pretty cold.
Changed clothes, had a great volunteer helping - it was steamy in the tent but I was still pretty cold. Headed out to get my bike, got rubbed down with some sunscreen, there's my bike - okay, let's see how this part goes. A quick aside here, the winds had been light all week - beautiful, Ironman weather really, but we had seen forecasts as low as 3 mph for the wind up to 34 mph for the wind. It seemed even the meteorologists didn't know what was coming. Out through the technical part in town I go, headed for the Beeline and whatever wind awaited. The wind actually was blowing in town (not a good sign in my experience) and when I got out to the Beeline Highway, the wind was in my face. I got up to the turnaround and came flying back down the slight hill with the wind back toward town feeling good about my ride so far but bad about my gut. Nausea is not a good thing on an Ironman day. Stomach squawking, gut spasms...shut up and ride. Nothing you can do about it...get through it. Making the turn around in town to start the second bike loop, I knew what was coming. The second loop is a tough mental loop. Gone is the excitement of loop one and the relief and exhilaration of loop 3 is a long way away...shut up and ride. Positive thoughts. Heading out of town I realize the wind is blowing harder, and from a different direction - we are going to climb out with the wind, and come back to town with the wind in our face, negating the slight downhill on the way back to town...shut up and ride. Made it to the turnaround in pretty good shape but the ride back to town was just tough. Very tough. Control the mind. There are a lot fewer people out here now, the neck and shoulders hurt, the seat hurts, the legs hurt...shut up and ride. I get back to the turn at the transition area and it takes EVERYTHING I have to turn that bike around and head back out. I know Ray is volunteering out on the Beeline at an aid station so maybe I will get to see him this loop, shouldn't be too much traffic. The wind is the same direction and a bit harder but not that bad - hey, there's Ray. He tells me later I did not look good, hey, I know that. I FINALLY get to the turnaround and head back to town, elated to be headed in but I know time is beginning to be a factor. I will make the bike cutoff but I am worrying about how much I will be able to run. I do NOT feel well. Shut up and ride...see how it goes. On the way back, Ray yells at me "are you alright, buddy?" My response, "I don't know." I get off the Beeline and then it seems to take forEVER to get through town. I make the turn onto Rio Salado, there is like, no one still out here - everyone is on the run - well, almost everyone...hey, Mike Reilly is calling someone an Ironman...I still have a marathon to run. Shut up and run...
I reach the dismount line, get off the bike, get my land legs back, give my bike to a great volunteer and go over to pick up my bike to run bag...there sure aren't many bags left - makes mine really easy to find. Jacques walks up and asks how I am, I say sick, he says "you don't look very good", "I don't feel very good" - he comes into the tent with me and we talk a few minutes as I change. I am beginning to feel a bit better...he takes my picture...and asks me if I am going to go out on the marathon...oh, yeah...I don't know what will happen, I don't know if I can run but I am doing this race in honor of Lyman, who is battling ALS, and I am also carrying a bead for Team Beads of Courage - for a kid who is undergoing cancer treatment - I cannot just quit - I will not just quit - I may run out of time but I will be moving when it happens.
Out I go, it is 10 minutes until 5, I have just over 7 hours - I start doing math and start walking. I am feeling better...what...yeah, I am feeling better. At the 1/2 mile mark is an aid station, I take in a few calories and a bit of water and I feel like I can run. Take it easy cowboy - a bit at a time here - run a bit, walk a bit, see how it goes. Then I am to the bridge, coming back on the other side of the lake...and out on the second part of the first loop. About 2:10 for the first loop...I am looking better on time, keep moving like that on the second loop and you will be able to walk the whole third loop if necessary. Go.... First part of the second loop goes well - hey look, there's Ray - we move together for a few minutes, laugh about how I looked on the bike and he tells me "you got this" - I know he is lying - I still have a lot of work to do and I am trying to put time in the bank for the third loop but the second part of this loop is tough...I am about 1/2 way through the marathon - it feels like I am further along but I am not, shut up and run...this loop will end and then you are on the last loop. Get it done. I grind through the rest of loop two. Mark is getting close to finishing...he is going to finish well under his goal. I feel good - happy for him and thinking I am in pretty good shape.
As I near the end of loop two, I come to the place where the volunteer says, left to finish, right for loops 1, 2 or 3....this is my last time to be forced to go right. I tell him I will see him in a couple of hours. He'll be here. I catch up with two ladies talking about the time, they are worried, it is their first Ironman, they are slowing, I tell them, "come with me, we will get there"...I am confident in my math and my pace. As long as nothing goes really wrong on this loop...shut up and move....we walk, we jog a bit to stretch our legs and we walk some more. We talk, one lady lost her husband to cancer 5 years ago, she needed something to fill her time...I thought a dog would have been an easier alternative but we talked about what he would be telling her right now....emotional...cool...we keep moving...coming over the bridge toward the park I see Debbie....ah, it has been too long..."how are you?" "It's going to be late, but I will make it, and then I am going to medical." We turn out of the park and head out for the last 5.5 miles...we are going to make this. We overtake another lady who joins our parade and I ask the ladies what their finish line celebration is going to be...they all say "we are finishing together" and I explain we are not...we are going one at a time...so they can OWN their finish line...not share it with anyone...it is THEIRS. I will cross last...I am going to roll the Blazeman Warrior roll and I also want to watch each of them become an Ironman. We grind through the back side, most of the party is over back there, people are cleaning up, time is waning, a few hard core volunteers still congratulate us and give us treats. I love volunteers...thanks to all. We see several people headed out to the back part of the loop and one of the ladies says "are they going to make it?" and the reality hits that the rest of these people have very little if any chance of finishing inside the limit. We move...and head over the bridge, about a mile from the finish. "Bryan, is it okay if I get emotional now?" as tears are rolling down her face. "yes"...this is one of the really cool moments of my life, watching this happen. We approach the cut off to the finish, I stop and hug the volunteer, the young man returns the hug. I explain we are going to veer left, go through the parking lot, a few steps on the street and a left turn into the finishing chute....slow down....SLOW DOWN....OWN IT....ENJOY....take it in - you will NEVER have another first Ironman finish line. I watch as each is proclaimed an Ironman...my smile is huge....fist bump for Mike Reilly...and then THE ROLL....a moment I have thought of for a year. I even got off the ground unaided. A great hug from Deb, then Bob and Mary Ann Blais were there and then Jacques was there - it's been quite a journey my friend. Pictures were taken and then I saw her, a newly forged Ironman, tears in her eyes, "I will never forget you." Me either.
And then one day it happened, the offhand comment by a stranger in a locker room planted a seed, that germinated and was harvested at a micro sprint triathlon a few months later. One thing led to another and then in 2009, I completed my first Ironman in Arizona. It has consumed me. I think of Ironman every day. Last year, I completed Ironman Florida - another 140.6 mile journey in less than 17 hours. I cannot begin to describe what the finish line feels like - if you have done it, you know you can't put it into words, and if you haven't done it, well, you wouldn't understand anyway.
Two weeks ago, I once again found myself in Tempe, AZ, a few days from starting my third Ironman. This one would be different. Due to a new job in July and a relocation in September, my training was almost non-existent. Not a good thing and certainly not recommended. You hear people talking about training 20-30 hours a week and you realize that you have hardly trained that much in total (not really but it was almost that bad). I knew what to expect, I have total respect for Ironman and I knew it was going to be a rough day. But I was going to give it a shot - I was going to work through the day and if I ran out of time - well, I would just have to deal with that. I didn't know how I would feel about it, but I knew disappointment would be an understatement. In the few days leading up to the race I attempted to stay calm, I knew I couldn't afford to expend any energy in any non-productive ways. There were four of use from the "You Are An Ironman" book there as well as Jacques Steinberg, the author, we did a panel on Friday afternoon that was a blast and then signed books in the merchandise tent for a few hours on Friday and a short time on Saturday.
And then I was awake at 2am on Sunday morning eating. Yep, breakfast at 2am, and not because you have been out partying - my party was on Sunday. So it was sports drink, banana and peanut butter and jelly sandwich. Then back to bed and awake again at 4:45. Shower, dress, grab the final checklist and stuff and off we go. Body marking, airing the tires, filling the bottles all went well and then it was over the the little tree for Mark and I to meet up with Debbie and Mark's wife and daughter. Shortly thereafter, we squeezed ourselves into our wetsuits, kissed the girls goodbye and began to make our way to the swim start area. I wanted to get in the water in time to easily get out to the start area without rushing but I also didn't want to get in too early as the water was COLD. The report was low 50 degrees water. I believe the report.
BOOM! Off go the pros and then very quickly thereafter, BOOM!!! and we are swimming. Mark and I were right together at the start and that would be one of the few times I saw him that day. It was on....work the swim....bumping....smacking....hitting....getting hit....minor kicks...down the first leg I go. All the "washing machine" stuff is real, but it has never really been that bad for me. I am a pretty slow swimmer so maybe I am just behind it all very quickly and never really feel it, but there are a lot of people around and that can be a bit unnerving at first. Halfway through the swim I checked my watch and was pleased. Just a couple of minutes slower than the last two years. Just keep working and keep your heart rate down. The second half of the swim was long and uneventful and I think they kept moving the bridge further and further away from me. Finally I turn toward the steps and grind my way across Tempe Town Lake to be pulled from the lake by a great volunteer. I cannot say enough for the volunteers all day - and half the night - they were all great. Got the wetsuit stripped off and headed to the changing tent, pretty cold.
Changed clothes, had a great volunteer helping - it was steamy in the tent but I was still pretty cold. Headed out to get my bike, got rubbed down with some sunscreen, there's my bike - okay, let's see how this part goes. A quick aside here, the winds had been light all week - beautiful, Ironman weather really, but we had seen forecasts as low as 3 mph for the wind up to 34 mph for the wind. It seemed even the meteorologists didn't know what was coming. Out through the technical part in town I go, headed for the Beeline and whatever wind awaited. The wind actually was blowing in town (not a good sign in my experience) and when I got out to the Beeline Highway, the wind was in my face. I got up to the turnaround and came flying back down the slight hill with the wind back toward town feeling good about my ride so far but bad about my gut. Nausea is not a good thing on an Ironman day. Stomach squawking, gut spasms...shut up and ride. Nothing you can do about it...get through it. Making the turn around in town to start the second bike loop, I knew what was coming. The second loop is a tough mental loop. Gone is the excitement of loop one and the relief and exhilaration of loop 3 is a long way away...shut up and ride. Positive thoughts. Heading out of town I realize the wind is blowing harder, and from a different direction - we are going to climb out with the wind, and come back to town with the wind in our face, negating the slight downhill on the way back to town...shut up and ride. Made it to the turnaround in pretty good shape but the ride back to town was just tough. Very tough. Control the mind. There are a lot fewer people out here now, the neck and shoulders hurt, the seat hurts, the legs hurt...shut up and ride. I get back to the turn at the transition area and it takes EVERYTHING I have to turn that bike around and head back out. I know Ray is volunteering out on the Beeline at an aid station so maybe I will get to see him this loop, shouldn't be too much traffic. The wind is the same direction and a bit harder but not that bad - hey, there's Ray. He tells me later I did not look good, hey, I know that. I FINALLY get to the turnaround and head back to town, elated to be headed in but I know time is beginning to be a factor. I will make the bike cutoff but I am worrying about how much I will be able to run. I do NOT feel well. Shut up and ride...see how it goes. On the way back, Ray yells at me "are you alright, buddy?" My response, "I don't know." I get off the Beeline and then it seems to take forEVER to get through town. I make the turn onto Rio Salado, there is like, no one still out here - everyone is on the run - well, almost everyone...hey, Mike Reilly is calling someone an Ironman...I still have a marathon to run. Shut up and run...
I reach the dismount line, get off the bike, get my land legs back, give my bike to a great volunteer and go over to pick up my bike to run bag...there sure aren't many bags left - makes mine really easy to find. Jacques walks up and asks how I am, I say sick, he says "you don't look very good", "I don't feel very good" - he comes into the tent with me and we talk a few minutes as I change. I am beginning to feel a bit better...he takes my picture...and asks me if I am going to go out on the marathon...oh, yeah...I don't know what will happen, I don't know if I can run but I am doing this race in honor of Lyman, who is battling ALS, and I am also carrying a bead for Team Beads of Courage - for a kid who is undergoing cancer treatment - I cannot just quit - I will not just quit - I may run out of time but I will be moving when it happens.
Out I go, it is 10 minutes until 5, I have just over 7 hours - I start doing math and start walking. I am feeling better...what...yeah, I am feeling better. At the 1/2 mile mark is an aid station, I take in a few calories and a bit of water and I feel like I can run. Take it easy cowboy - a bit at a time here - run a bit, walk a bit, see how it goes. Then I am to the bridge, coming back on the other side of the lake...and out on the second part of the first loop. About 2:10 for the first loop...I am looking better on time, keep moving like that on the second loop and you will be able to walk the whole third loop if necessary. Go.... First part of the second loop goes well - hey look, there's Ray - we move together for a few minutes, laugh about how I looked on the bike and he tells me "you got this" - I know he is lying - I still have a lot of work to do and I am trying to put time in the bank for the third loop but the second part of this loop is tough...I am about 1/2 way through the marathon - it feels like I am further along but I am not, shut up and run...this loop will end and then you are on the last loop. Get it done. I grind through the rest of loop two. Mark is getting close to finishing...he is going to finish well under his goal. I feel good - happy for him and thinking I am in pretty good shape.
As I near the end of loop two, I come to the place where the volunteer says, left to finish, right for loops 1, 2 or 3....this is my last time to be forced to go right. I tell him I will see him in a couple of hours. He'll be here. I catch up with two ladies talking about the time, they are worried, it is their first Ironman, they are slowing, I tell them, "come with me, we will get there"...I am confident in my math and my pace. As long as nothing goes really wrong on this loop...shut up and move....we walk, we jog a bit to stretch our legs and we walk some more. We talk, one lady lost her husband to cancer 5 years ago, she needed something to fill her time...I thought a dog would have been an easier alternative but we talked about what he would be telling her right now....emotional...cool...we keep moving...coming over the bridge toward the park I see Debbie....ah, it has been too long..."how are you?" "It's going to be late, but I will make it, and then I am going to medical." We turn out of the park and head out for the last 5.5 miles...we are going to make this. We overtake another lady who joins our parade and I ask the ladies what their finish line celebration is going to be...they all say "we are finishing together" and I explain we are not...we are going one at a time...so they can OWN their finish line...not share it with anyone...it is THEIRS. I will cross last...I am going to roll the Blazeman Warrior roll and I also want to watch each of them become an Ironman. We grind through the back side, most of the party is over back there, people are cleaning up, time is waning, a few hard core volunteers still congratulate us and give us treats. I love volunteers...thanks to all. We see several people headed out to the back part of the loop and one of the ladies says "are they going to make it?" and the reality hits that the rest of these people have very little if any chance of finishing inside the limit. We move...and head over the bridge, about a mile from the finish. "Bryan, is it okay if I get emotional now?" as tears are rolling down her face. "yes"...this is one of the really cool moments of my life, watching this happen. We approach the cut off to the finish, I stop and hug the volunteer, the young man returns the hug. I explain we are going to veer left, go through the parking lot, a few steps on the street and a left turn into the finishing chute....slow down....SLOW DOWN....OWN IT....ENJOY....take it in - you will NEVER have another first Ironman finish line. I watch as each is proclaimed an Ironman...my smile is huge....fist bump for Mike Reilly...and then THE ROLL....a moment I have thought of for a year. I even got off the ground unaided. A great hug from Deb, then Bob and Mary Ann Blais were there and then Jacques was there - it's been quite a journey my friend. Pictures were taken and then I saw her, a newly forged Ironman, tears in her eyes, "I will never forget you." Me either.
Saturday, September 17, 2011
New Beginnings
Dateline 9.16.2011
It's been a while since I fired up a post here but I thought today would be a good day to post.
Today, Sherpa Deb and I are on our way to NY for the launch weekend of the You Are An Ironman book. This is the multi-year project of Jacques Steinberg that I have been involved with since 2008. It has been a very interesting process, watching a book from its true infancy, through each stage of life. Seeing it, holding it, reading it has been an experience I will never forget.
Reading the stories of the other 5 athletes in the book kept me glued to the book and I laughed and fought alongside them on tough training days. Not knowing it when we were training but certainly appreciating their company on those long rides when I thought I was alone.
A special thanks to Jacques, who marshaled all of us into some sort of information transmitter, to get him the necessary material to tell, what in my opinion, is a very cool story - actually five very cool stories - and mine (but who knows if anyone other than my mom and me will think that part of the book is cool?)
Also, several of you have been along for the journey so you know many of the tales in the book already but I want to say thanks for riding along. You have made my ride much more enjoyable.
See you at the finish line,
Bryan
It's been a while since I fired up a post here but I thought today would be a good day to post.
Today, Sherpa Deb and I are on our way to NY for the launch weekend of the You Are An Ironman book. This is the multi-year project of Jacques Steinberg that I have been involved with since 2008. It has been a very interesting process, watching a book from its true infancy, through each stage of life. Seeing it, holding it, reading it has been an experience I will never forget.
Reading the stories of the other 5 athletes in the book kept me glued to the book and I laughed and fought alongside them on tough training days. Not knowing it when we were training but certainly appreciating their company on those long rides when I thought I was alone.
A special thanks to Jacques, who marshaled all of us into some sort of information transmitter, to get him the necessary material to tell, what in my opinion, is a very cool story - actually five very cool stories - and mine (but who knows if anyone other than my mom and me will think that part of the book is cool?)
Also, several of you have been along for the journey so you know many of the tales in the book already but I want to say thanks for riding along. You have made my ride much more enjoyable.
See you at the finish line,
Bryan
Saturday, December 18, 2010
Monday, November 8, 2010
IMFL 2010 Race Report
Florida RR
So on Saturday November 6, I found myself on the shores of the Gulf of Mexico with about 2500 of my crazy friends getting ready to embark on a king sized journey. The air temperature is high thirties or low forties and we are about to go for a swim. See I told you they were crazy. But first a little background on the trip.
Debbie and I arrived in The Sunshine State on Wednesday with rain, scattered thunderstorms, wind, low temperatures and forecasts of more to come. My plan on Wednesday was to drive the bike course, get through athlete check in and do a quick ride to be sure all was in order. It rained all day on Wednesday including the time I waited outside in a reasonable line to take care of athlete check in, I correctly thought the lines would be much longer on Thursday as those lines would include new arrivals and those folks who had sense enough to stay out of the rain, i got checked in, picked up my bike also in the rain and made a quick pass through the expo deciding to save the ride for Thursday.
Thursday dawned, okay you couldn't see the sun due to the cloud cover but I just know it was there, with some light rain. My bike was dry and ready for a check ride. Deb drove out a few miles ahead of me and I rode about three miles before it started to rain pretty hard. I really had wanted to ride a bit more of the course but it just was not to be at that time. Did I mention it was windy and cool? About noon on Thursday I saw blue sky for the first time. There wasn't much but it was there. So on went the wetsuit and out to the Gulf I went for a swim. There were about a half dozen or so people in the water and it felt really good. The water was in the low 70s so warmer than the air by a bit. I got out of the water and went for a very easy run and then my onsite prep work was complete.
I took Friday completely off. Friday morning the cold front had arrived complete with "angry ocean", big wind, and cold. Hmmmm, uh, Sunshine State? I looked out the window and saw several folks headed out to swim - I am sure just to get a feel for it and get their minds right in case that was the hand we were dealt. I decided to deal with it Saturday if necessary. The talk on Friday was swimming was tough with big current and waves. The weather guys were predicting the coldest day in Panama City this year for Saturday and the locals were worried about plants and trees. I went to bed early.
I woke up at 2am to eat and had actually slept pretty well. After eating I stared at the ceiling a bit but also got a bit more sleep before I was up for good about 4:15. Left to walk to transition at about 5 and breezed right through body marking. The volunteers were great here, I had two working on me at once. Shoulders marked, thighs marked, calf aged and "Believe" on one forearm and "Execute" on the other. I then rolled my bike over for air. There were three people ahead of me so as I got closer I loosened my valves. The rear core flew off at about 100 miles an hour. Of course there was zero chance of finding it in the dark so I moved to the bike tech tent for a new valve extension. No waiting, valve core replaced, tire aired, disaster averted. I went into the hotel to find somewhere warm to sit down. That was such great idea over the next several minutes the entire population of the United States wandered in with me. There was no one by the swim start and no one seemed to be in a hurry to get down there. We finally had to suit up and go. I stopped by the VIP viewing area to tell Debbie and Taylour bye and stubbed my toe going up the stairs - great - a stubbed frozen digit. I said my goodbyes and was actually one of the early ones across the swim mat. I stood in the water to keep my feet warmer until they made us get out. During the National Anthem i looked around to take in the whole scene, tons of people, spectators and athletes, anxious faces, music, nervous adjusting of goggles, shouts of encouragement. Then BOOM - it was time to go. A whole bunch of people moving into the water at once, deeper, deeper, a bit further, now swim. I ran aground on bodies, okay, slide off and swim again. Big right to left current, stay to the right and let the current carry you over to the buoys. Big kick to the left side of the face, no blood, no foul, swim on. Arms flailing, legs flying, multiple body blocks, there have been less physical UFC fights. It was a tough start to the first lap - but as always, it clears up and you can get in a rhythm and get your swim on. Beautiful clear water and some interesting wildlife to look at, oh that's the orange turn buoy. Make a left turn and let the current help you, now turn back to shore and stay inside as much as you can so the current doesn't carry you down the beach. The last few yards of the swim loop were really much colder water, noticeably so. Out of the water, across the mat, look, there's Debbie and Taylour, halfway done, a quick drink and then follow the line back into the water. Much less contact on the second loop. I have heard the water on the second loop is usually rougher but I didn't really notice a difference. Make the turns and bring it home. A pretty even split and an okay swim overall for me. Wetsuit stripped and then through the hanging hoses for a rinse. Could it be colder?
Into T1, just methodically got dressed and moved on out. I went with a compression top, jersey and arm warmers and kept them all on the entire bike ride. Many wore more, many wore less, but I think I was dressed just right for me. I had taken in some salt water on the swim so I went with just water to try to dilute that and the possible effects for the first 15 miles or so before I started hitting the calories. I didn't feel sick but I didn't feel great either so I just took it easy on the ride and tried to get in some water. Out 79 to 20 was uneventful but the calories were just not going down and I was getting further and further behind on my eating plan. I hear Rich in my head sayIng less is better so I am okay with it, just aware. Look at that sign, i think it is indicating bears in the are, that's interesting. About mile 30-35 the leader goes by at mile 80-85, now in a word, that kinda sucks..I have a long way to go. By the way the wind is picking up and it seems to have been on my nose in both directions. I make the turn to go south and it is not only a nice road, it is downwind...ahhhh...speed. And then it ends, we turn again onto 388 and there's the wind - really how can it be in my face again? Taking it past =================, the road turns to crap. There are cracks every where and your junk is bouncing. There are water bottles, tubes, CO2 cartridges, a Thanksgiving turkey, all manner of fodder scattered on the road. Pay attention here, dodge the stuff, try to find a smooth spot and it is about here that it feels i have slowed to a crawl and the distance isn't moving on my power meter. Just ride through it, the feeling will subside, moods oscillate all day, let's ride. There's the turnaround. Head back, bumps continue. Wind in my face out, wind in my face back, perfect. Turn right onto ======. Guess what, yep, wind in my face. Three miles and then back onto 20. Now this is interesting, not only is the wind in my face but those look like hills.....NO......NO.......NO.......Florida is pancake flat. Folks, if your pancakes look like that, don't call me for breakfast. Shut Up And Ride, you baby. Mmmmmm, my left Achilles seems to be tightening up - monitor that. Stop at the aid station and stretch at mile 70 or so, mount up and let's get this done. Feeling pretty good at this point. Make the turn at highway 79 expecting a tailwind, nope. But it is not too bad, just no help either. Turn to the Steelfield Dump, wind across me, turnaround, wind across on the way back too. Drop back onto 79, take it back into town, turn on the Beach Road and get blown around as the wind channels through the buildings, be alert here, almost done, don't let anything bad happen now. Look at the calm water in the Gulf, and the breeze in onshore now instead of offshore as it was this morning. At least that explains some of the bike course wind. Bear to the right on Thomas and woohoo there's the dismount line. Thank you, marvelous people for taking my bike. I head to transition.
I feel okay now but I am concerned about my lack of calories. I have taken in less than half of what I expected. I stretch a bit, change into dry comfortable clothes and prepare for what I know will be a long marathon. As I come out of T2 i ask a volunteer to tell Debbie (who was volunteering at the finish line) that I was heading out on the run. This was the only volunteer to let me down - he didn't get word to Debbie - but I believe he tried and was just unable to find her. I worked my run/walk strategy through the first few miles keeping my pace in check and monitoring my Achilles and other ever-present-by-this-point aches, but nothing seemed critical. I got to the park before dark so I got to see the park in the daylight which was good as I had heard it was dark and lonely later in the evening. I was intrigued by the Don't Feed The Wildlife sign until I came upon the alligator sign. A guy beside me said, "don't worry, they move really slow in the cold". HELLO, have you checked my pace. I am moving really slow too. Out of the park and back toward the turnaround I go. Happy to see lights and a few people. Back onto Surf drive - this is a party - and then veer onto Thomas to get down to the turnaround. I would really like to go to the right but i have another lap So out I go, less runners, oh yeah, it's getting late, keep up the pace - you are fine. I can tell I am slowing but only minimally at this point, Achilles is not happy, stomach is not happy, head and heart team up to tell them to Shut Up. I am struggling at the entrance to the park, there are not many other runners, I am wondering just how fast IS a cold alligator, but I keep moving, running a bit, walking more. There's the Ford Inspiration Station - look, there's my name, Debbie says, "hurry up". I laugh and run a bit. About 6.5 miles to go. Let's get this done. You know the next 6 miles, they hurt, period. It hurts to walk, it hurts to run, it just hurts. I run as I can, my Achilles screams, I walk - over and over. Then I see the turn to Surf. This will be over soon. I stop to get a rock out of my shoe that I have enjoyed for about 12 miles. Don't ask why I waited until now. I couldn't tell you, but I am thinking I don't want that rock in my shoe at the finish line. It made sense at the time. I make the two little curves onto Thomas and can see the Alvin's Island that leads to the finish chute. I am beginning to run a bit. Hey, nothing really hurts. There's the finish. Listen to the crowd. High fives on both sides of the chute. I hear I am an Ironman for the second time. Wow, this finish line is heavEN.
Debbie and Taylour catch me. A great moment to share with my wife and daughter. Debbie puts my medal around my neck. An unforgettable moment. Off to food and massage. What a day.
Retrospectively, I had a tough day, no excuses. Just a tough day. Some things didn't work out the way I planned. Having an execution plan is important. Being able to adapt and improvise intelligently is critical.
So on Saturday November 6, I found myself on the shores of the Gulf of Mexico with about 2500 of my crazy friends getting ready to embark on a king sized journey. The air temperature is high thirties or low forties and we are about to go for a swim. See I told you they were crazy. But first a little background on the trip.
Debbie and I arrived in The Sunshine State on Wednesday with rain, scattered thunderstorms, wind, low temperatures and forecasts of more to come. My plan on Wednesday was to drive the bike course, get through athlete check in and do a quick ride to be sure all was in order. It rained all day on Wednesday including the time I waited outside in a reasonable line to take care of athlete check in, I correctly thought the lines would be much longer on Thursday as those lines would include new arrivals and those folks who had sense enough to stay out of the rain, i got checked in, picked up my bike also in the rain and made a quick pass through the expo deciding to save the ride for Thursday.
Thursday dawned, okay you couldn't see the sun due to the cloud cover but I just know it was there, with some light rain. My bike was dry and ready for a check ride. Deb drove out a few miles ahead of me and I rode about three miles before it started to rain pretty hard. I really had wanted to ride a bit more of the course but it just was not to be at that time. Did I mention it was windy and cool? About noon on Thursday I saw blue sky for the first time. There wasn't much but it was there. So on went the wetsuit and out to the Gulf I went for a swim. There were about a half dozen or so people in the water and it felt really good. The water was in the low 70s so warmer than the air by a bit. I got out of the water and went for a very easy run and then my onsite prep work was complete.
I took Friday completely off. Friday morning the cold front had arrived complete with "angry ocean", big wind, and cold. Hmmmm, uh, Sunshine State? I looked out the window and saw several folks headed out to swim - I am sure just to get a feel for it and get their minds right in case that was the hand we were dealt. I decided to deal with it Saturday if necessary. The talk on Friday was swimming was tough with big current and waves. The weather guys were predicting the coldest day in Panama City this year for Saturday and the locals were worried about plants and trees. I went to bed early.
I woke up at 2am to eat and had actually slept pretty well. After eating I stared at the ceiling a bit but also got a bit more sleep before I was up for good about 4:15. Left to walk to transition at about 5 and breezed right through body marking. The volunteers were great here, I had two working on me at once. Shoulders marked, thighs marked, calf aged and "Believe" on one forearm and "Execute" on the other. I then rolled my bike over for air. There were three people ahead of me so as I got closer I loosened my valves. The rear core flew off at about 100 miles an hour. Of course there was zero chance of finding it in the dark so I moved to the bike tech tent for a new valve extension. No waiting, valve core replaced, tire aired, disaster averted. I went into the hotel to find somewhere warm to sit down. That was such great idea over the next several minutes the entire population of the United States wandered in with me. There was no one by the swim start and no one seemed to be in a hurry to get down there. We finally had to suit up and go. I stopped by the VIP viewing area to tell Debbie and Taylour bye and stubbed my toe going up the stairs - great - a stubbed frozen digit. I said my goodbyes and was actually one of the early ones across the swim mat. I stood in the water to keep my feet warmer until they made us get out. During the National Anthem i looked around to take in the whole scene, tons of people, spectators and athletes, anxious faces, music, nervous adjusting of goggles, shouts of encouragement. Then BOOM - it was time to go. A whole bunch of people moving into the water at once, deeper, deeper, a bit further, now swim. I ran aground on bodies, okay, slide off and swim again. Big right to left current, stay to the right and let the current carry you over to the buoys. Big kick to the left side of the face, no blood, no foul, swim on. Arms flailing, legs flying, multiple body blocks, there have been less physical UFC fights. It was a tough start to the first lap - but as always, it clears up and you can get in a rhythm and get your swim on. Beautiful clear water and some interesting wildlife to look at, oh that's the orange turn buoy. Make a left turn and let the current help you, now turn back to shore and stay inside as much as you can so the current doesn't carry you down the beach. The last few yards of the swim loop were really much colder water, noticeably so. Out of the water, across the mat, look, there's Debbie and Taylour, halfway done, a quick drink and then follow the line back into the water. Much less contact on the second loop. I have heard the water on the second loop is usually rougher but I didn't really notice a difference. Make the turns and bring it home. A pretty even split and an okay swim overall for me. Wetsuit stripped and then through the hanging hoses for a rinse. Could it be colder?
Into T1, just methodically got dressed and moved on out. I went with a compression top, jersey and arm warmers and kept them all on the entire bike ride. Many wore more, many wore less, but I think I was dressed just right for me. I had taken in some salt water on the swim so I went with just water to try to dilute that and the possible effects for the first 15 miles or so before I started hitting the calories. I didn't feel sick but I didn't feel great either so I just took it easy on the ride and tried to get in some water. Out 79 to 20 was uneventful but the calories were just not going down and I was getting further and further behind on my eating plan. I hear Rich in my head sayIng less is better so I am okay with it, just aware. Look at that sign, i think it is indicating bears in the are, that's interesting. About mile 30-35 the leader goes by at mile 80-85, now in a word, that kinda sucks..I have a long way to go. By the way the wind is picking up and it seems to have been on my nose in both directions. I make the turn to go south and it is not only a nice road, it is downwind...ahhhh...speed. And then it ends, we turn again onto 388 and there's the wind - really how can it be in my face again? Taking it past =================, the road turns to crap. There are cracks every where and your junk is bouncing. There are water bottles, tubes, CO2 cartridges, a Thanksgiving turkey, all manner of fodder scattered on the road. Pay attention here, dodge the stuff, try to find a smooth spot and it is about here that it feels i have slowed to a crawl and the distance isn't moving on my power meter. Just ride through it, the feeling will subside, moods oscillate all day, let's ride. There's the turnaround. Head back, bumps continue. Wind in my face out, wind in my face back, perfect. Turn right onto ======. Guess what, yep, wind in my face. Three miles and then back onto 20. Now this is interesting, not only is the wind in my face but those look like hills.....NO......NO.......NO.......Florida is pancake flat. Folks, if your pancakes look like that, don't call me for breakfast. Shut Up And Ride, you baby. Mmmmmm, my left Achilles seems to be tightening up - monitor that. Stop at the aid station and stretch at mile 70 or so, mount up and let's get this done. Feeling pretty good at this point. Make the turn at highway 79 expecting a tailwind, nope. But it is not too bad, just no help either. Turn to the Steelfield Dump, wind across me, turnaround, wind across on the way back too. Drop back onto 79, take it back into town, turn on the Beach Road and get blown around as the wind channels through the buildings, be alert here, almost done, don't let anything bad happen now. Look at the calm water in the Gulf, and the breeze in onshore now instead of offshore as it was this morning. At least that explains some of the bike course wind. Bear to the right on Thomas and woohoo there's the dismount line. Thank you, marvelous people for taking my bike. I head to transition.
I feel okay now but I am concerned about my lack of calories. I have taken in less than half of what I expected. I stretch a bit, change into dry comfortable clothes and prepare for what I know will be a long marathon. As I come out of T2 i ask a volunteer to tell Debbie (who was volunteering at the finish line) that I was heading out on the run. This was the only volunteer to let me down - he didn't get word to Debbie - but I believe he tried and was just unable to find her. I worked my run/walk strategy through the first few miles keeping my pace in check and monitoring my Achilles and other ever-present-by-this-point aches, but nothing seemed critical. I got to the park before dark so I got to see the park in the daylight which was good as I had heard it was dark and lonely later in the evening. I was intrigued by the Don't Feed The Wildlife sign until I came upon the alligator sign. A guy beside me said, "don't worry, they move really slow in the cold". HELLO, have you checked my pace. I am moving really slow too. Out of the park and back toward the turnaround I go. Happy to see lights and a few people. Back onto Surf drive - this is a party - and then veer onto Thomas to get down to the turnaround. I would really like to go to the right but i have another lap So out I go, less runners, oh yeah, it's getting late, keep up the pace - you are fine. I can tell I am slowing but only minimally at this point, Achilles is not happy, stomach is not happy, head and heart team up to tell them to Shut Up. I am struggling at the entrance to the park, there are not many other runners, I am wondering just how fast IS a cold alligator, but I keep moving, running a bit, walking more. There's the Ford Inspiration Station - look, there's my name, Debbie says, "hurry up". I laugh and run a bit. About 6.5 miles to go. Let's get this done. You know the next 6 miles, they hurt, period. It hurts to walk, it hurts to run, it just hurts. I run as I can, my Achilles screams, I walk - over and over. Then I see the turn to Surf. This will be over soon. I stop to get a rock out of my shoe that I have enjoyed for about 12 miles. Don't ask why I waited until now. I couldn't tell you, but I am thinking I don't want that rock in my shoe at the finish line. It made sense at the time. I make the two little curves onto Thomas and can see the Alvin's Island that leads to the finish chute. I am beginning to run a bit. Hey, nothing really hurts. There's the finish. Listen to the crowd. High fives on both sides of the chute. I hear I am an Ironman for the second time. Wow, this finish line is heavEN.
Debbie and Taylour catch me. A great moment to share with my wife and daughter. Debbie puts my medal around my neck. An unforgettable moment. Off to food and massage. What a day.
Retrospectively, I had a tough day, no excuses. Just a tough day. Some things didn't work out the way I planned. Having an execution plan is important. Being able to adapt and improvise intelligently is critical.
Monday, September 6, 2010
The Austin Triathlon 2010
Quick race report.
We started as a late age group- old men. Water felt great and swim was uneventful. I thought I was going really slowly but I did have an ok time for me. Right in line with most Oly swims. I came out of the water and on the run to T1 it started to rain.
I mean RAIN.
It poured through the first 17 miles of the bike so I was very very careful. Several bodies on the streets really make you think. My goal is to stay upright this year. I found myself with a death grip on the aerobars a couple of times and had to remind myself to relax or I would tense myself into going down. There is a long gradual hill you do 3 times and I let it go to 30 but that was IT. Usually that is a 35-36 mph flight for a short while. I dialed the bike way back to stay rubber side down but it didn't cost me that much.
The run was pretty good the sun came out and it got hot and humid. Got er done and then ate a bit. Took a while to cool down - had a great shower and Deb and I headed home.
After about a 90 minute drive I put up the bike, rinsed the wetsuit and took a 15 minute nap. if you ever find yourself in Austin on Labor Day you should do this race.
See you at the finish line.
We started as a late age group- old men. Water felt great and swim was uneventful. I thought I was going really slowly but I did have an ok time for me. Right in line with most Oly swims. I came out of the water and on the run to T1 it started to rain.
I mean RAIN.
It poured through the first 17 miles of the bike so I was very very careful. Several bodies on the streets really make you think. My goal is to stay upright this year. I found myself with a death grip on the aerobars a couple of times and had to remind myself to relax or I would tense myself into going down. There is a long gradual hill you do 3 times and I let it go to 30 but that was IT. Usually that is a 35-36 mph flight for a short while. I dialed the bike way back to stay rubber side down but it didn't cost me that much.
The run was pretty good the sun came out and it got hot and humid. Got er done and then ate a bit. Took a while to cool down - had a great shower and Deb and I headed home.
After about a 90 minute drive I put up the bike, rinsed the wetsuit and took a 15 minute nap. if you ever find yourself in Austin on Labor Day you should do this race.
See you at the finish line.
Sunday, June 27, 2010
A Magic Moment
Eating last night at a table adjacent to a group of four including one fella who looked just like Santa Claus. Watched a couple of young boys, obviously big and little brother walk over scared with dad watching from afar to talk to "Santa". The dude was way cool to them, asked about school and summer and stuff and told them to be good.
From the look on the face of the little one, he probably didn't sleep last night and already has a lock on his presentation for "what I did on summer break".
Very, very cool. I am glad to have shared in that moment.
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone
From the look on the face of the little one, he probably didn't sleep last night and already has a lock on his presentation for "what I did on summer break".
Very, very cool. I am glad to have shared in that moment.
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone
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