A Couple of Wild and Crazy Guys!

IMAZ: The Novelization

2009-12-25T10:37:00.008-05:00

Note: OK, Here's the last post. I give you the full "War & Peace" version of the IMAZ Race Report.

Wow! This event was so huge and I have so many thoughts that have gone through my head before, during and afterward, that I almost can't formulate a coherent explanation. To some degree the ironman must be experienced directly by the individual to truly understand the enormity of it all.

Mad Men (Not as in "angry," but as in "crazy," "overly nervous," or "insane")

I'd like to say that the flight from Fort Lauderdale to Phoenix was uneventful, but would ignore the fun event that Southwest puts on with its open seating process. John & I both forget to check in early and end up with dreaded "B" boarding passes. By the time we get to board for our connection in Nashville, the only seats available on the plane are those dreaded middle seats. I end up in the very last row of the plane.

The flight itself was uneventful, but at the rental car building the rental car agent makes the mistake of asking me how my day is going and I go all Larry David on her about the Southwest boarding system. She tells me that she likes Southwest and looks at me like I'm nuts. John chimes in that we are in Arizona for the Ironman and I'm clearly on edge with nervous energy for the event, which is probably a dead on psychological analysis.

We get to the Mission Palms Hotel to check in. We lug our bags across a courtyard, up the elevators to the 4th floor to go to our room. On getting out of the elevators, we can't help but notice that the floor is a dusty mess with crew of about 6 to 8 construction workers tearing out the wall paper in the halls and pasting up new wall paper. We go to the other end of the hall to where our room is to see if its far enough away from the wall paper job in place, but decide this is unacceptable. John has an asthma condition and doesn't want to risk inhaling dust and smelling wall paper paste. I concur. We go back to registration and get a new room in the front end of the hotel on the 3rd floor. Don't get me wrong, the Mission Palms was a lovely hotel and definitely the place to stay for this event, but it was another of those hurdles on our travel day that made us wonder what else could go wrong. I found out soon enough.

We decide to go over to Tempe Beach Park, the site of the transition area, the registration area, shopping tent, and where TriBike Transport has our bikes. We go through the registration area and pick up our race numbers, chip, and sign away our right to hold anyone legally accountable for our choice in doing this event should we become injured or worse. Since this is the first of 2 days to pick up registration packets, the lines are tolerable and we get through the lines fairly quickly. As we mill about the area, you get the feeling that you are at a superhero convention. There are so many extremely fit people on bikes and walking around that you wonder if you even belong in this group. This does nothing to ease our nervous energy.

We stop by the clothing sales tent and browse the goods. There is every conceivable shirt, bike jersey, tri clothing, sweat shirt and tee shirt containing the Arizona Ironman logo. Pretty cool stuff and you could spend a fortune. Unfortunately, John got to the tent a bit before me and informs me that one of the sales staff informed him that there is lots of inventory and that everything will be available throughout the next three days. John suggests that we not waist our time making purchases at this time, but wait until after the event. I think that John is somewhat superstitious about buying logo wear before completing the event. In order to support my buddy, and on his assurances that there will be plenty of inventory in the next several days, we leave the tent without making any purchases.

We go over to the TriBike Transport tent to pick up our bikes. I'm the kind of guy that likes to "pack his own parachute" as they say, so having given my bike to a third party company to ship across the country to the race sight along with my gear bag felt like letting go of a trapeze swing, flying through the air and relying on another high wire artist to catch me on the other side. I'm happy to report that the guys at TriBike Transport are top notch and our bikes and gear bags arrived as promised and in good shape. John & I pump our tires and John has the TriBike guys put on his pedals and check out his bike. Having berried my peddles deep in my gear bag, I decide to walk my bike the 7/10ths of a mile back to the hotel to work on. As I walk my bike back, I hear what sounds like a gun shot and realize my back tire has blown out. I later realize I must have pinched the tube in putting on new tires just before shipping the bike out. Not TriBike's fault, but another in what looks like a series of unnatural warnings regarding the event if I were superstitious, which I'm not.

We go to dinner at Gordon Biersch Brewery Restaurant at which we do not sample any of the micro brews. John, being single, chats up the young college aged waitress. Not wanting to seem like a deadbeat, I join in on the banter. As the waitress departs with our order, John chastises me for cutting in on his banter with the waitress. Hey, harmless banter is all we married guys are allowed, but I apologise anyway. I got to learn to be a better wing man. After 23 years of marriage, I'm way out of practice. Anyway, the food was good and I catch the Dolphins beating the Carolina Panthers on the TV that I can see over John's shoulder.

After dinner, we head back to our room. I work on getting my bike and tires in order, while John works on sorting out his nutrition bags and starts comparing both his own notes, our friend Jerry's notes and the nutrition section of his "Bible," Going Long by Joe Friel & Grodon Byrn. He starts doing careful calculations of the goos, electrolyte tablets, Cliff Bars, and other assorted food products and drinks he will carry and have in his "Special Needs Bag" at drops on the bike and run courses. When I'm done getting my bike in order, I start to take note of the vast volume of food, drink and nutrition products that John believes we need to ingest in order to survive this event. Its a boat load of stuff that looks like it could sustain a family of four for a month. As I start to question John about such a large number of calories, he starts laying out the calculation of per hour calorie consumption predicted by the Bible and the actual calorie count of each product.

I think it necessary to point out at this time that John & I take different approaches to our training and preparation for this event. John reads everything he can get his hands on, speaks with several people who have done these events to get advice on every aspect of the ironman, and takes copious notes on all of this information. In other words, he is very focused on detail, does thorough research and takes copious notes along the way. Very analytical. Too analytical in my view. I take more of an intuitive approach to the event. I practiced the pieces of the event, tried the level of nutrition I felt I needed to get through the bike and run portions, and planned to repeat this level of eating and drinking for the event as done in practice. But with John showing me hard data, I begin to seriously doubt that we have any idea of what consumption is necessary for an ironman event.

OK, time for panic mode. I start gathering together my food and nutrition products and start to separate the various groupings I'll need to eat during the early portion of the bike, the restock of goods to place in the special needs bag, what to put in my run belt, and what to put in the run special needs bag. We are both overwhelmed by the amount of food it looks like we will need to consume for this event. It suddenly feels like we gathered supplies for the pioneer crossing from St. Louis to California and under purchased. I have my various nutrition parcelled between my various bags. John puts all of his nutritional goods aside to do another set of calculations the next day and reconfigure his goods. Before turning in for the night, I plug my Garmin 305 into the bathroom socket to charge it for the run portion of the ironman.

Friday

When we awake Friday morning, I discover that my Garmin 305 appears to be dead. I ask John whether he saw any Garmin booth at the expo the last 2 days, but he reminds me that he noted the absence of one and I had informed him that with Timex as a sponsor, Garmin was probably not allowed to set up a booth at the expo.

After a breakfast of oatmeal and coffee at Starbucks, we pack our triathlon gear bags with our wet suits and towels to go down to Tempe Town Lake to practice the swim. Its not that we need to practice swimming at this point, its that we know the water is supposed to be pretty cold (around 63 degrees) and do not want to be surprised at the coldness of the water on race day. As we approach the water, we start asking other swimmers how the water feels. "Really cold" seems to be the common response. No real help, but about what we expected to hear. I start talking to a woman in a wet suit who turns out to be from Pompano Beach, Florida, a mere 5 miles north of where I live. John & I make friends with this woman named Maria who has previously done Ironman Florida. While changing into our wetsuits, we meet another experienced woman named Kim from Colorado. I jokingly mention that doing the half ironman led us to doing the full and wondered what the full opens the door to doing. Kim replies, "Oh, that's easy: Ultra marathons." "I don't know about that," I reply. "OK," Kim says, "How about the rim to rim run of the Grand Canyon?" I had just read an article from John's copy of Marathon & Beyond magazine on the flight over about the rim to rim run. "Sounds like fun," I say, "but I'd want to go with someone who has done it before as a guide." "Oh, I'm in a group that goes every summer," Kim responds. I give her my card to contact me, but I'm not sure I could handle to rigours of the altitude or temperature change.

After suiting up, along with a dive hoodie, I note that John is still talking to yet more people asking about the water. Assuming that this is simply a delay tactic for what he knows will be unpleasant, I head to the waterfront along and walk down the steps to the water. As I jump into the water, it feels like I've jumped into a glass of ice water full of ice cubes. I swim just to get over the cold. While somewhat startling at first, I start to acclimate to the water. I swim east in the direction of the start buoy for Sunday's swim. I swim 10 minutes out and 10 back. Good enough to get the feel of it I think. As I come out of the water, I can't find John and figure he made it into the water for his swim. I change back into shirt and shorts and spy a guy wearing an Alaska bike jersey. I introduce myself and inquire if he knows any of my Anchorage running buddies (he doesn't). He introduces me to his wife and twin 18 year old son and daughter. He has done one other ironman event, and his wife and son are joining him in this event. I tell him that there is no way in Hell that my 18 year old son would join me in this endeavor.

After dropping our swim gear back to the hotel, we walk over to Hooters for lunch. On the walk over, John announces that he doesn't think he'll join me in my search for a new Garmin. I express my disappointment in his lack of support for my situation. He asks if I'm going to get all teary eyed over the issue. No, I inform him, I just have to factor in his lack of mutual support when his snoring has me awake for another night. Perhaps I'll not resist the urge to smother him with his pillow. This leads to a whole bit about who will smother whom with a pillow first. I tell him he may be doing me a favor by smothering me with my pillow prior to the ironman on Sunday. Our humor this day is based on little jabs against each other that is clearly based on nervous energy and the fact that we've been training together for an entire year. I tell John I've already got training buddy divorce papers drafted to be served on him when this event is over.

After lunch, John decides to rest while I gear up in bike gear to take my bike for a test ride. I ride over to the bike course and hook up with a group of riders from California. As we ride, I note that even in this early afternoon heat, my arms are kind of chilly. Good, I think, it won't get too hot on the ride on Sunday. As we return from the outward portion of our ride, one of the guy riders tells me he did this event last year when it was held in April. He informs me that he did not finish. This causes me a little concern in that he looks like a very capable bicyclist. He explains that he got behind the cutoff time in the swim and was working hard to avoid the bike and run cut off times the rest of the day. Knowing that John is concerned about the swim cut off time, I choose not to discuss this story with him upon my return to the room.

After a few hours rest in the room, we had over to Tempe Arts Park for a welcome dinner that is part of the registration fee and package. We meet other athletes, get our pasta and salad and head over to a large group of tables in front of a presentation stage. There are 2,800 participants registered and along with family and friend support there are probably 3,500 people at the dinner. Mike Reilly, the announcer for all of the Ford Ironman events, is the MC for the evening. Mike informs us that there are over 1,000 participants doing a full ironman for the first time. He informs all us newbies that come Sunday night, we will be ironmen. All us newbies laugh nervously, not so sure that we will get the job done. Mike then calls up the oldest and the youngest participants. The oldest male is a guy named Ed who informs us that "Half of my friends are dead, the other half are in assisted living facilities, and I'm here having fun!" The youngest male turns out to be the 18 year old Alaskan I met that morning. Mike also plays "The Biggest Loser" game by having everyone stand up that lost 10 pounds in training for this event. He then starts to up the ante by 10 pound increments. The winning weight loss ended up being over 110 pounds. When Mike questions the guy, he offers to show Mike his driver's licence showing him the before picture. Of course, we are all amazed and applaud this guy. The prize: a year supply of cookies. Health cookies mind you, but cookies none the less.

Mike then introduces the crowd to Rudy, a double leg amputee that took up triathlons because he started trying to do activities that they said he wouldn't be able to do. He had worked his way up to the ironman distance and had just attempted the Hawaii Ironman in Kona in October. Rudy had failed to meet the 17 hour cut off in Kona and was in Arizona to give it another shot. We give Rudy a standing ovation. After Mike Reilly is done inspiring us, the race director and sub-directors give us briefings on the course and various ways the we can be penalized or disqualified from the event on Sunday. After returning to our hotel, we finalize our gear bags and special needs nutrition bags for drop off Saturday morning.

Saturday

John heads over to Starbucks for breakfast before me. I take a shower and get to Starbucks a half hours after John. I find him talking to a woman that I think he's just met. After ordering food and coffee, I approach and ask if the other seat at their table is taken. It turns out the woman is Maria from Pompano Beach whom I didn't recognize in normal clothing. People definitely look different in a full wetsuit and hoodie. We get advice from Maria who had previously done Ironman Florida and arrange to meet for an early dinner.

After breakfast, we return to our room and gather our gear bags and bikes for drop off at the transition area. I oil and lube my chain and gears before heading out. I offer John my oil and lube bottles, but he refuses my offer wanting to rely on the professional bike mechanics at the transition area. Suddenly, the lubes and sprays that we have shared over the last several months doesn't seem like a good idea to John. "To each there own," I think. I pass it off as a nervous mistake on John's part. Why rely on your buddy when you've got professionals around? After dropping our gear bags and setting our bikes up, we talk to an athlete that informs us that he was told that what was at the souvenir tent was all the stock that was available. When we return to the tent, we find most of the clothing that is not in odd sizes is gone. Oh well, at least I got a few items the day before.

We decide to go shopping for some extra food and supplies we will need for Sunday. We stop by a bike shop for extra tubes, air cartridges, and a pair of arm warmers for me. We find a pizza joint that serves spaghetti with meatballs, a find a store for food, and a running store where I get a Garmin 310 (the new waterproof ones you can wear during the entire ironman event). On our return to the hotel, I get a call that my family has arrived on their flight out to Phoenix and will meet me in an hour or so. John decides to take in a movie.

When my wife Salome, son Alex, and mother-in-law Kiki arrive, I walk them to the expo and show them the lake we will swim in and the transition area. Salome will volunteer to give out metals to finishers with the hope of hanging one on John & me. We look for the volunteer coordinator, but are unable to locate anyone in charge. I take them to a burger joint for their late lunch and send them on their way to our friends house in NE Scottsdale. I go back to the room and take a nap. I have a short dream in which I am an eagle gliding over the lake course. I feel very confident and awake feeling that this dream is a good omen. John thinks I'm nuts and starts singing "Fly Like an Eagle."

We get a call from Maria to get together for an early dinner that we agreed to schedule when we met at breakfast. We meet and decide to go back to the Gordon Biersch Brewery Restaurant. As we are sitting down, I note a table of about 10 that looks like it contains several athletes. I ask for show of hands as to who is participating in tomorrows event. Once the athletes reveal themselves, I ask what they ordered for dinner. Chicken with pasta seems to be the order of the evening and John, Maria and I all follow suit. We top it off with desert as we need the calories for tomorrows event. At least that's our story and we're sticking to it.

Back at our room after dinner, John & I lay our gear out for the next morning. John excuses himself from the room so that he can go down to the hotel lobby and review his notes and otherwise get mentally prepared for the next morning. I hang out in the room and channel surf. I prefer trying to not think too much about the coming event. Its just too big to get my mind around. I've planned and planned for this event. I'm ready. Distraction works better for me at this point. After an hour John returns to the room and we turn in for the night.

Sunday-Race Day

We awake at 4 AM and start getting ice and start mixing our bike bottles. After eating oatmeal, bannanas and a power bar, we finish gearing up and head out for the transition area. We drop our special needs bags and go check out our bikes. The transition area is abuzz with activity and pre-race nervous energy. After getting our tires pumped up and our water bottles onto our bikes, its time to body marked. After that, we do the port-o-potty shuffle. As I wait in line for a
port-o-potty to become available, I notice a German athlete who takes off his sweats and starts showing off his condition to his friends just outside the transition area fence. The guy looks to be about my age, but is clearly in much better physical shape that I can ever hope to get into. He has the sculpted body of a body builder, which is only enhanced by his stretching and jumping exercises that he is doing to both warm up and impress his lady friends. OK, enough of that. If I start comparing myself to other athletes in this crowd, I might as well withdraw and go back to the hotel.

After taking care of bodily functions in the port-o-potty, John & I find a bench and get into our wet-suits. Geared up for the swim, we start heading over the crowd of other wet-suit wearing athletes nearing the start mat that we must all cross to register our chips for the event. As we approach the start mat, we down a goo and drink a final bottle of water. My body's immediate response to the goo is to want to vomit. As David Byrne sang: "Warning sign of things to come." I fight the urge to vomit and wash the goo down with water. With 2,800 participants all gathering towards the double-wide gate just feet before the waterfront, I can't help but feel we look like lemmings jumping off a cliff to an ocean below. We had been advised to wait until the last minute before jumping into the 63 degree water, but the crowd kind of forces us all toward the seawall.

Before I knew it, we were on the edge of the seawall. I turn to John and ask "Jump now?" "Jump," he replies. In an instant, we are amongst literally thousands of other swimmers in the dark swimming toward the start area. The water is indeed feels cold as ice, but the fact that we are actually in the water with all these people prevents the mind from event thinking about the cold. This is one boat load of people in the water. A look back towards the seawall only reveals thousands more lemmings awaiting their turn to jump into the icy water. Images of the movie "Titanic" come to mind.

John & I stick together as we swim with this hoard toward the start. When we get about 100 yards from the start, the crowd around me stops moving. As I look toward the start area, I realize this is as close as we will get to the start. I turn around to make a comment to John about this fact, when I realize that he is no where in sight. Little did I know that John had gotten claustrophobic with the crowd of swimmers and had headed back towards the sea wall near the start line to get out of the water and away from this mass of swimmers. I realize instantly that we have come to the end of the line as far as buddy training goes. I'm now in this on my own. I also realize that I have inadvertantly placed myself smack dab in the middle of 2,800 swimmers. Given that the sun is just coming over the horizon and the National Anthem is now being played, I realize that there is no time for me to extricate myself from this start position that I had no intention of placing myself in.

The Swim

Immediately after the conclusion of the National Anthem, the start cannon goes off with a "boom." The previously calm water becomes a sea of thrashing arms and legs. Again, it brings to mind the scene in "Titanic" where all the passengers are in the water trashing wildly about just after the ship finally goes underwater. Except that everyone is moving in the same direction. I put my head down and try to start swimming, but who am I kidding. Its too crowded to actually swim and I'm getting hit from all directions. The close quarters also makes it hard to get fully lateral for proper swim position. I take several strokes, swallow some water, and pick my head out of the water to cough. This is what I call the "What the f#@k" moment of the ironman. Prior to this event, all of my triathlons swims have gone off in waves of 20 to 30 swimmers. If you get jostled too much, you can simply drift slightly back from the swimmers hitting you and find some open water. There is no drifting back and finding open water when you are surrounded by 2,800 swimmers. You just trade off one set of highly motivated and self centered swimmers for another group of highly motivated and self centered swimmers. You also feel like there is the very real possibility that you could drown in this pack of lunatics and no one would take any notice, much less render assistance. You realize the only way you will survive this mob, is to swim for you life.

While I'm in the middle of this human mayhem, John is off to the right near the sea-wall. Thus, instead of getting whacked on four sides (left, right, front and rear), he is only getting whacked from 3 sides. Fortunately, this truly insane portion of the ironman only last about 5 minutes before the crowd spreads out enough for you to find decent room to swim and stop thinking about other swimmers. That doesn't mean the bumping. climbing over the top, and whacking stops, its just that its now at least mentally manageable. The fear of drowning subsides and you can fully focus on the business of swimming.

Once I'm able to focus on my swim and get a decent rhythm going, I note that my new Garmin 310 keeps beeping at me. I'm not sure if its because I'm not wearing my heart rate strap for the swim or if something else is going wrong with the watch. Since I can't stop swimming long enough to get a decent look at the watch, I decide to ignore it for the swim.

I find that my navagation skills on the out-bound leg of the swim is pretty spot on. I manage to keep in a straigth line and watch the buildings and mountains go by on my right. Before I know it, I can see the far bridge we have to go under and then the red turn bouy. I manage to hug close to the bouy and make the turn without getting bumped by too many swimmers. As I swim the short crossing leg north, I also hang a pretty good bee-line for the turning bouy. However, the long return leg west is another matter. The course of the river/lake/resevour that we are swimming bends slightly from left to right. The bouys do the same such that you end up swimming in a slightly northwesterly direction if you swim close to the return bouies. In turning my head to the right to breath, I end up following and hugging the northern bank of the lake. This slowly takes me more to the right. About half way back on the return to the transition area, I note that I've drifted to the right of the bouies. However, since the course bends in that direction anyway, I simply swim a straght line back. I don't know if this added distance or not, but figure it had to add something to the swim. Additionally, the north bank of the lake has fewer landmarks making the return seem longer than the outbound leg. I finally get under the bridge near the start of the swim course and make my turn towards the southern bank and the swim exit. This last little leg seemed like it too way longer than it should, but it probably had to do with seeing the exit area for this last leg. It always seems like it takes longer to reel in a finish line when you can see it from a distance.

I eventually get towards the finish line. I remember that the course marshalls had suggested not grabbing the first step of the stair coming out of the water but to instead try for the third step in so that you could stand easier. However, the volunteers assisting swimmers out of the water are so helpful that they grab your arm before you can reach for the third step in on the stairs. Thus, I'm being pulled upward with no step to be able to get a footing on. I eventually find my footing and am able to stand. I take a quick look at my watch to see how long my swim took and see my watch reads 1:44. First off, I'm thrilled that the Garmin is working properly since its been beeping at me on and off during the swim. I'm also happy with the swim time. Now, that's nothing to write home about for most swimmers, but the swim is my weakest event and I had estimated a swim leg of between 1:50 to 2:00, so I beat my estimate. John came in a few minutes later in 1:48. Given that he was worried about maybe losing time at the crazy start and maybe cutting it close to the 2:20 swim cut off time, he too was very pleased. We get it; we both need more swim lessons. We were pleased with our better than expected swim times none the less. All of you good swimmers out there can stop snickering now and get on with reading this report.

We were warned to be prepared to feel slight vertigo from going vertical after swimming horizontally for so long. Sure enough, my first couple of steps I feel like a drunken sailor. This soon passes and I'm being assisted by the wet-suit strippers. No, its not what you think. Two people grab the top of your unfastened wet-suit and peel you to the waist. They then tell you to lie down on your back and they peel the wet-suit off you legs. You look a bit like one of the dancers in "Animal House" doing the "alligator."

Once stripped of my suit, I run over to the gear bag section. The voluteers in the gear bag section are flawless in calling out race numbers and handing over your gear bag to you. I grab my gear bag and head to the changing tent. Its a large tent with a male and female sections, but no partician. No problem though as no one is doing anything other than paying attention to their gear and trying to change and get to their bike. No time for straying eyes. I find a seat and quickly change out of my swim trunks and into my bike shorts. A male volunteer comes up and offers to help me dry my feet and assist me with my socks. As I work on getting my bike helmet and shirt on, I thank the volunteer for such great assistance. He informs me that he has done ironman events and is simply giving back. I tell him that I'm so grateful for his assistance that I'll be sure to volunteer at an event to pay his kindness forward. After stuffing my bike jersey with Cliff Bars, goos and other assorted food products, I come out of the changing tent. Several volunteers offer to hit me up with sunscreen. Being subject to sunburn, I take the offer and get blasted with lotion on my cheeks and neck. Little do I realize that this lotion doesn't soak in and I look like a Massi warrior on the hunt.

I run towards the bikes. Again, the volunteers do such a great job calling out your number to other volunteers that by the time you get to your bike rack row, a volunteer has your bike pulled to the end of the row and ready for you to grab and run out of the transition area. I run my bike as best I can in bike shoes out of transition.

The Bike

After mounting in the mount zone, you have to hold your bike place for about 300 yards until you exit the park area where the triathlon village is set up. This is a bit tricky as there are a lot of riders trying to navigate this winding wide sidewalk that goes uphill out of the park. Once we emerge from the park, there is room to find a position on the road. The bike course starts with a series of right and left turns over the first five miles before reaching a straight out and back loop of about 27 miles. My math is probably a bit off here, but the bike course is 3 loops of approximately 37 miles each. For the first 5 miles, I'm able to ride between 18 to 20 mph. Once we hit the straight out and back road, I note that we are riding into a direct headwind. On top of that, the outbound approximately 13 miles is mainly an incline. At the beginning of this loop is a set of port-o-potties that I decide I must take advantage of using. I'm in and out of these toilets as almost no one is using them. Once I start riding again, I start trying to eat some of the food I've brought along for the ride. I down a Cliff Bar and wash it down with some of my drink mix. I work on electrolite jelly beans and later down a goo.

I also note on this first outbound leg that my heart rate is not registering on my Garmin. John had forgotten to tell me that I have to sync the heart strap to the watch before using it for the first time. Thus, I realize that I'm going to do the bike and run legs without the feedback of what my heart rate is doing. Oh well, I think, at least I'm getting my overall leg times for each of the swim, bike, run, and transitions.

As I get futher towards the outward turn around point on the bike, I note that my speed has gotten slower and slower due to the headwind and the greater incline. I slow all the way down to 13 mph. I look back at my back break thinking I must be rubbing my break. No such luck. Its at this point that one of the leading pro atheletes comes bolting by me. With their disc wheels, the faster pros sound like a train coming up behind you. The faster pros are followed by a camera crew on a moter cycle similar to the Tour de France. Its pretty amazing to be both a participant and a spectator of an event at the same time.

I was struggling with the outbound uphill into the wind that I almost forget to take a sideward look at the scenery we are riding through. As I turn my head, I'm in awe of the beauty of this dessert landscape. Large gorgeous cacti and wild flowers cover the planes with the beauty of the mountains in the background. If you can do this event, do so for the beauty of the bike course. It takes you through the unmolested landscape of the native American indian tribe that lives in this region just to the northeast of Tempe. Stickenly beautiful.

After making the turn around, which comes after a slight downhill that forces you to brake in order to keep from accelerating into the turn around, we get rewarded for our hard rides out. On the return, we are greeted with both a tail wind and a downward sloping course. You coast at 25 mph. As John & I planned a conservative 17 to 18 mph ride to prevent being depleted for the run, I spend the return downhill trying to do math in my head to figure out my overall ride average. I finally give up and figure as long as I don't feel like I'm red-lining my efforts, the average will take care of itself.

At the turn-around near the transition park, crowds are gathered and you get a bit excited. After completing the turn around and heading back out the right and left turning streets on the outbound again, you realize that you have to do this same course twice more. Of course this whole time, I've been trying to take in food and drink. As I come back to the first set of port-o-potties again, I realize I've got to stop again. No problem. More riders are stopping, but its still not too crowded and I'm in and out pretty fast. As I continue my outbound ride, I think I spy John coming back on the return leg of his first loop. Good. I now know that he make it out of the water and beat his feared swim cut-off. I try to shout out to him, but going in opposite directions, he doesn't hear me.

On my return leg of my second loop at about mile 66 there is an area where you can stop off and get extra food items from your special needs bag. However, by the time I get to this area and get my bag, my stomach is both full and feeling heavy. I reach into this bag chock full of food products and take out only a supposedly frozen peanut butter and jelly sandwich. This was a product suggested to us on Friday by a fellow athlete that we picked up in the frozen foods section of the grocery store. Unfortunately, our room refrigerator didn't work so well, so I don't know how well these sandwiches kept. In any event, the sandwich tasted good, but I was unable to think about eating anything else.

As I complete the second lap, I can hear the announcer call off the names of competitors finishing their bike portions of the race. It made it a little frustrating to make the turn at the park to start my third bike leg. Now, I just want to be done with the bike portion of the ironman. As I finish up the cut back five miles, I witness a near accident wherein a female rider dropped something off her bike and makes an immediate turn around without looking behind her. A pro female athlete shouts "Look out!" and goes flying by both me and the careless rider. That could have been ugly.

I suddenly realize I've got to get to those port-o-potties. Bad! They are a few miles off, but I'm able to make it there without an accident. Unfortunately, there is now a line in front of the port-o-potties. I'm forced to burn 5 to 10 minutes just waiting in line. When I finally get into a port-o-potty, I feel sick to my stomach. I do what I can and come out feeling somewhat better. I down some more electrolite jelly beans and get riding again.

As I near the turn around point for the last time, who do I see up ahead of me but my buddy John. He must have passed me on the bike as I was waiting in line for the port-o-potty. "You are one strong Greek," I call out from behind. We are both thrilled to know that the other guy is doing OK and that our game plan seems to be working out according to plan. We spend the next couple of mile passing each other for no real reason other than one of us gets a bit of energy. No drafting mind you. We seem to gap each other and its all legal. John gets ahead of me at the turn around and seems to disappear down the inclining road. John had apparently gotten a little ahead of me and stopped off at the next set of port-o-potties. I mistook another rider for John and think I'm pulling him in only to realize its another rider. Looking down the road, I can't seem to find a rider that looks to be him nearby. "He just blew my doors off," I think as I ride on.

At this point, I note that the shadows are getting longer and it must be getting closer to sun set. As I come into the final bike turn and see the park, I'm thrilled with the prospect of getting off the bike. I coast into the park, dismount, hand off my bike, grab my run gear bag and head back to the changing tent. The volunteers are not as sharp as in T1, but they offer water and good cheer. As I'm about to finish my change, I hear buddy John's voice. He has just entered the change tent as I'm about to leave. I now figure out that he must have gotten behind me on the last bike leg. I ask him how he's doing. "Good," he replies. I look at him seeing if he wants me to wait up for him, but he waves me on. I leave the tent wondering if he is having a problem. As I leave the tent, I again get offered sunscreen. I again get blasted with war paint and head out for the run.

The Run

Since I've been prone to leg cramps in other marathons, I had a water bottle filled with Pedialite, an electrolite drink for sick babies and small children that I've found helpful in past marathons. As I start my run, I open the bottle and try to take a swig. My body immediately rejects this sweet concoction and I want to vomit. Oops, that's not going to work. I toss the bottle aside. At the first run aid station, I try to sip from a cup of Coke, but get the same violent rejection from my stomach. Oh oh, not good. I try a cup of water. My stomach feels like I've got food poisoning and wants to reject plane water. I'm suddenly seriously worried about being able to run a marathon without being able to take in any fluids.

A mile later at the next aid station, I am offered warm chicken broth. "It can't hurt to try this concoction," I think. Luckily, my stomach seems to accept this warm salty drink. I spend the rest of the marathon mixing chicken broth with as much water as I can without my stomach rejecting the mix. Its a fine balancing act. Too much water and I can't drink it. A 70/30 mix of chicken broth to water seems to work. I'm also able to get in a few pretzels or potato chips. I subsist on this lite fare for the remainder of the event.

After about an hour of running, the sun starts to set. The run course is a 3 loop course that winds around the triathlon village, the surrounding industrial park areas and over to the other side of the lake into residential areas. The volunteers at the aid stations are again most helpful and cheerful bunch of people you could ask for in support. As I run by the triathlon park and surrounding bridges that are near this area, the spectators are very encouraging of all athletes efforts. I know they are probably supporting a friend or family member, but their cheers and encouragement meant the world to me. I literally sick and tired of this event, but I have no intention of stopping. The cheers and encouragement of both the spectators and volunteers at the aid stations were key to getting through these miles.

The confusing part of a 3 loop marathon course is that the mile markers read somewhat as follows: you pass a mile marker that says "Mile 9," shortly thereafter you pass a mile marker that reads "Mile 18," finally you pass a mile marker that reads "Mile 1." A little confusing, but on subsequent laps it becomes a little more encouraging. On the second lap, I see the mile marker that I finished, and in seeing the ones to come for the third lap, I think next time I see this marker I'll be on mile 18. Near mile 5, 14, and 23 was a sign that read "Don't think of how far you have to go, think about how far you've come." This was encouraging for the first 2 laps, but by the time I saw it on the 3rd lap, I thought, "Screw that, I'm thinking about the miles I've got left."

As I pass the triathlon park at the end of my second lap, I see my wife Salome on the side of the course. I yell out to her. She is excited to see me and asks which lap I'm on. I tell her I have one lap to go and she is estactic to know that I'm OK. She goes off to work giving out metals while I run my last lap.

By this last lap, the competitors out on the course are mostly walking. I've been taking some walk and potty breaks, but refuse to simply walk this thing in. I come from a running background and I'm going to run this thing in if its only a shuffle.

As I get to about mile 18, I look over and notice I'm running along side a guy that is dressed up in a Forrest Gump costume. Given that John had completed the Halloween Half Marahton along side a guy in a Forrest Gump costume, I laugh out loud. "You have no idea how ironic it would be if we crossed the finish line at the same time," I tell Forrest Gump. "Sorry, dude," the guy replies, "I don't think I can keep up with you." "Oh well, it would have been funny," I think as I pull away from Forrest Gump.

At some point during the run, John had gotten ahead of me. He was obviously not having the stomach problems that I had and finished about an hour ahead of me in 13:18. Salome did not see John finish, but was able to snap some pictures of him after he received his metal.

Meanwhile, I'm going thanking and high fiving the volunteers at the aid stations as I walk through drinking my last round of chicken broth/water. I keep saying, Thanks for everything, but I'm not coming around here again." Over the last several miles, I'm passing a lot of people who can only walk. At the last mile, I start picking up my pace knowing the finish is getting near. When I get to the turn off for the finish line, I see people heading out for yet another loop and feel bad for them. But not bad enough to join them. I gladly turn off for the last half mile to the finish line.

The Finish

I can taste the finish. As I come around the series of turns to the head of the park, I notice the crowds getting thicker and more animated. As I cross into the park for the last hundred yards, the crowd is screaming cheers and I'm high fiving people on both sides. The crowd narrows in on both side so that you come down an ever narrowing shoot. At this point, the excitement of the moment and the crowd have me picking up speed to the point that it feels like I'm almost sprinting. The fatigue of the last several miles is lifted and I feel elated. As I cross the finish line with tears of joy in my eyes, I hear Mike Reilly call out, "William Parady, from Fort Lauderdale, you are an Ironman!" My time: 14:19. All I can say is "Wow, what a rush!" I felt an almost spiritual sense of elation.

As I came across the finish line, volunteers came up to me to see if I'm OK. "Yes," I tell them, "I'm feeling great now." I am handed a bottle of water and go further down the line to where the metals are being given to finishers. I see Salome, but she is talking to a male volunteer also giving out metals who is standing to her right. As I approach her, the guy tries to hang a finisher's metal around my neck. "Sorry, I've got to take my metal from her," I say as I point to my wife. Apparently, Salome hadn't expected me for a while, didn't hear my name announced as I crossed the finish line, and didn't recognize me as I approached her. She went nuts with joy, kissed me and hung my metal around my neck. She asked me why I didn't seem as excited as her. I told her that I was very excited, but with the passing of the adrenaline rush of the finish line now felt tired.

Salome got me wrapped in a heat blanket and whisked me off to the food area, bypassing the area where additional volunteers handed you a finishers shirt and running cap. She realized this error after the fact and arranged to have them mailed to me back in Fort Lauderdale. In any event, my stomach is still a little messed up and can only manage a small slice of pizza. They have a great deal of food available, but I've got no appetite. We meet up with John and we do a man hug. We both are beaming knowing the other guy made it to the finish and neither one of us needs to feel bad for the other guy.

After messages by yet more wonderfully giving volunteers, John heads back to the hotel and I go off with Salome to retrieve my bike and gear bags. On our arrival back at the hotel, we find John sitting next to a bucket of beers on ice and chips accompanied by congratulatory cards to each of us from John's sister. A very classy move. After Salome's departure back to our friend's house where she, my son Alex and my mother in law Kiki are staying, John & I spend the next couple of hours calling west coast friends that would still be awake at 10 PM Mountain Time. After recounting our experiences to each other, I head to the bathroom to shower. Looking in the mirror, I note that my eyes are quite bloodshot. On my return from the bathroom, I note that John's eyes are also very bloodshot. Its been one long day! I lay down and am out like a light at around 11:30 PM. John remains awake until 1 AM doing I know not what. Probably writing down and analyzing his splits.

Afterward

The next morning, we awake surprisingly early given our efforts on Sunday. I prep my bike and gear bag for return shipping by TriBike Transport. John & I return to the triathlon village to drop my bike and our gear bags. As we walk through the park we note a long line of people lined up to sign up for next year's event. Prior year participants get the first shot at re-upping for the next year. We also retrieve most of our special needs bags from an area where they've all been placed by the event organizers. One of John's two bags is missing. We go over to the IMAZ sales tent where another line is set up to get in and buy finisher's swag. We dutifully get in line and buy shirts, jackets, and assorted other stuff that announces that we are finishers of Ironman Arizona. I normally hate marathon shirts that has the word "Finisher" on it, but for an ironman, it somehow seems very appropriate.

After we spend mo' money, we head over to the awards ceremony. They feed us a very nice breakfast and put on a great ceremony. Normally, neither of us sticks around for these types of events, but for us, this ceremony is special. While we don't know the names of the age group or overall finishers, we are amazed at their times and their physiques. The training for these events may be a form of the fountain of youth, because we saw some people in their later 50s and 60s that look extremely fit. The biggest ovation went out to Rudy, the double leg amputee who failed to finish at Kona in October. He was able to finish in the last hour at Tempe. He got up and thanked everyone. Of course, the crowd gives him a standing ovation.

After the ceremony, we went back to the shopping tent because John had left a prized warm up jacket there by mistake in trying on shirts. Fortunately, someone turned it into lost and found. Then, John made me help him search what would have been every box of special needs bags (about 50 boxes with thousands of bags) looking for his missing special need running bag. Luckily, I found it before too long and we were able to leave the park before it got too hot.

We met up with Maria for lunch back at the Gordon Biersch Brewery Restaurant to get her race report. She bested both of us with a finish time of 12:15. We all had meat products and I was finally able to drink one of their seasonal micro brews. It was a delicious wheat beer. We spent the rest of the day lounging around our hotel room calling friends and giving our race reports. We ate at a nice Mexican restaurant for dinner and turned in early for the night.

John left the next morning and Salome picked me up from the hotel. Our family spent the rest of the week with our friends in Scottsdale, we made a day side trip to Sedona, and enjoyed Thanksgiving with our friends, Dave & Sue. I was also able to have a nice brunch with my sister and her grown children on Friday. All in all, a pleasant week after IMAZ relaxing and visiting with friends and family.

I'm sure you'll agree that all this was way more than you needed to know. It was more of a mind dump for me to try to get the feelings down before they fade too much into the past. If you've gotten this far, thanks for you patience.

Where Do We Go From Here?

2009-12-24T11:23:00.007-05:00

In the weeks since Ironman Arizona, I've been trying to figure out where this blog is going. It started out as a joint commitment to doing an ironman event between buddy John and me. With a little push from our running friend Wayne from Anchorage, a blog of this joint journey commenced.

Writing this blog had the feel of a natural story arc with beginning, middle, and end. That story ended in Tempe. Our paths forward look to be diverging. John has re-upped for another full ironman. I am focusing on a couple half ironman events for 2010. Thus, the joint venture that has been "A Couple of Wild & Crazy Guys" has ceased serving its original purpose.

Additionally, the wife is starting to complain. I've heard a couple of times now: "All you do are marathons and triathlons." I've always felt ad hominem arguments are unproductive, but what can I say. I think it best to lay low for a while. Continued regular posts to a tri blog may be used against me.

So, I've pulled down the future schedule and stripped the site down to its postings. Where do our blogs go after we are done with them? I guess they become little time capsules floating around the ether-net waiting for future internet surfers to come across them and examine them as historic artifacts. Thanks to all of our regular readers. Its been a fun journey.

Before I go, however, I'll do one last blog entry. I kept working on a long version of the Arizona Ironman race report, adding to it and editing it. I'll post it as a holiday present to anyone who cares to read a very long race report. It may be a present best left unopened.

The Rest of the Story

2009-12-20T13:15:00.000-05:00

"The Rest of the Story" were short segments at the end of radio news programs I used to hear when I was growing up. The segments were hosted by Paul Harvey. These couple of minute features consists of factual stories on a variety of subjects with a surprise or "twist" saved until the end. The bits always concluded with the tag line "And now you know… the rest of the story." Sometimes the stories were a little corny, but often they were stories of human struggle and perseverance.

I was reminded of these vignettes while watching the Ironman World Championship broadcast this Saturday. Narrator Al Trautwig always provides extraordinary commentary of the leaders and the editing always gives a good feel for how the race lead unfolds. Always an inspirational show.

Other than focusing in on the leaders of the race, the show always covers several age groupers, military participants, handicapped athletes, and athletes coming back from injury. Al and the editors usually do a good job at this, but this year I think they fell a bit short. They kind of left us hanging regarding Rudy Garcia Tolson, the double leg amputee that was seeking to complete his first ironman. As you may know from watching the broadcast, Rudy failed to make the bike cutoff. The show focuses on the incredible effort these athletes give before realizing they are not going to finish. The athletes either are stopped from starting the next phase of the race or are simply unable to continue mid-course. The camera shows these athletes dismounting their bikes on the side of the road or stopping on the run and sitting or lying down mid-run. They are done for the day. Its always sad to watch.

The lingering focus on the reluctant acceptance of failure feels somewhat emotionally manipulative. I guess its done in part to show how difficult the event is and how badly these athletes want to finish. Its also used to contrast failure with the thrill of the people who do finish in spite of hardships. A good example was the woman who was coming back from a stroke. As she crosses the finish line, I'm sure no one had a dry eye. I know I didn't.

But back to Rudy. When he is told he didn't make the bike cut off, the camera lingers on Rudy. Its almost like the cameraman was waiting for Rudy to breakdown and cry. Many do; Rudy did not. In fact, when John & I were in Tempe to do the Ironman, Rudy was there. Rudy was brought up at the pre-race dinner and introduced to the crowd. We heard Rudy's story of growing up with deformed legs, his amputation operation and his subsequent efforts to compete in athletics. We heard about his attempt at Kona in October and his failure to make the bike cut off. Rudy spoke to us and let us know that he wasn't giving up. In fact, he was racing with us on Sunday. Less than two months after not finishing at Kona, Rudy was going to give the Ironman another go.

That Sunday, I didn't see Rudy in the midst of the 2800 swimmers, but I did see him on the bike. Its was inspiring to see him ride. John ran by him on the run portion of the race and said, "You're incredible man." "No," Rudy replied, "You're incredible." Rudy wasn't looking for sympathy out on the course; he was simply another athlete trying to get through the Ironman. Rudy finished in the 16th hour of Iroman Arizona. The next day at the awards ceremony, Rudy was again brought up to the stage. We gave him a standing ovation.

While the program editors may have considered it slightly off topic to mention that Rudy came back and finished his ironman in Tempe, it would have shown the undying spirit which makes an ironman. Rudy would not let one failure stop him from trying again and succeeding. An inspiring message that would have been a good post script to the various scenes of failure shown in the Kona broadcast.

So, as Paul Harvey used to say: "And now you know… the rest of the story."

Death to Smoochy

2009-12-18T15:00:00.010-05:00

Death to Smoochy is a 2002 movie starring Robin Williams, as a once famous, now infamous child's program host named "Rainbow Randolph" who is displaced by Sheldon Mopes (played by Edward Norton) whose child's program character "Smoochy" has replaced Rainbow Randolph in the hearts and minds of the kids and parents of the world. While Sheldon is full of good will and is just what is called for, Robin Williams character wants to kill Smoochy for making his character obsolete.

The reason I bring it up is that it seems like a fitting analogy for what e-mails, blogging and Facebook are doing to the holiday card industry. I don't know about you, but in the last two years, I've noticed a steady drop in the number of both personal and business holiday cards that come in the mail. From a business standpoint, perhaps the economy is partly to blame, but I've notice I get more of these blast e-mail holiday greetings from both local and national business I deal with like the one here that I received from USA Triathlon.

I've also noticed the little reminders of my friends upcoming birthdays on Facebook. I try to make sure to post a short birthday good wish to my friends when I see its their birthday. In that respect, Facebook has made us all closer. I certainly couldn't keep up with all of my friends birthdays. Prior to Facebook, I could not keep up with all of my friends lives. Thus, I'm a fan of Facebook. I am able to keep in light touch with the goings on of friends from high school and elsewhere around the country that I would find impossible to do otherwise. With Facebook, it doesn't take up more than a few minutes every few days to have a general idea of what your friends are doing.

However, Facebook and blogs seem to have done away with the need for the year end summary we would get in mailed holiday cards. We also get pictures posted over the year, so there is no need for the holiday family photo. Without those inserts, we are reduced to the social formality of sending out cards to family and friends who send us one.

I knew we were getting into a new social norm when I got an e-mail from an aunt and uncle that said that their e-mail holiday message was in lieu of a mailed holiday card. This e-mail holiday greeting is coming from my parent's generation, usually the last to adopt any new internet based practice. If my parent's generation has abandoned the practice of a mailed holiday card, the mailed holiday card is going the way of "Rainbow Randolph."

I'm not saying that this new "Smoochy" era is bad. In fact, I kind of like it. Its just that I grew up in the "Rainbow Randolph" era and its taking me a while to get used to the new social norms. It was always nice to get a personal holiday card in the mail. Those personal cards preserved a little of that childhood joy of a surprise in the mail in the days leading up to Christmas.

I may be an old dog, but I do my best to learn the new "e" tricks. I've ordered myself a Garmin navigation system for the car. I've upgraded to the new waterproof Garmin 310 watch from the "don't submerge" 305. I'm even finally upgrading to an iPhone. However, the death of the mailed holiday card seems immanent.

This became apparent to me as I tried to retrieve my Xmas mailing list from my computer. It seems that as the operating systems on our computers keeps getting updated and "improved," more and more of our old software ceases to function properly or at all. After upgrading our server at the office and centralizing our data, I can not find my Xmas list data. Furthermore, that mailing list software keeps crashing. If there is a conspiracy here, I think its that the operating system upgrades are a mechanism to keep us buying new software. Yea old planned obsolescence.

The point is that I can't find or use my Xmas list data and I don't have the time to try to reconstruct it from scratch. Don't take it as a personal insult if you send a card to me and don't get one in return. Instead, consider this my holiday greeting to you. I know this has little to do with triathlons, running, biking or training, but I did work in USA Triathlon and my Garmin 310. I'll get back to running and triathlon postings soon enough. In the meantime, "Merry Christmas" to my Christian friends, "Happy Hanukkah" to my Jewish friends, and "Happy Festivus" to the rest of us.

Mr. Sluggo Returns

2009-12-10T15:09:00.012-05:00

One of my favorite bits from the early years of Saturday Night Live was the Mr. Bill Show. Mr. Bill was a claymation figure that was supposedly the main character of a kids educational show. Each Mr. Bill episode would start innocently enough but would quickly turn dangerous for Mr. Bill. Along with his dog, Spot, he would suffer various indignities inflicted by "Mr. Hands," a man seen only by his hands. Sometimes the abuse would ostensibly come from the mean Mr. Sluggo, another clay character. The violence would inevitably escalate, generally ending with Mr. Bill being crushed or dismembered while squealing in a high pitched voice, "Ohhhh noooooooooooooo..."

Amongst friends, I've sometimes made self deprecating references to myself as Mr. Bill in some of my road races. "Mr. Bill, surely you can run sub 7 minute miles for the marathon." "But, Mr. Hands, I don't think I can sustain that pace for that many miles." "Oh, Mr. Bill, sure you can." "OK, Mr. Hands, I'll give it a try." Then, along comes Mr. Sluggo and jumps on poor Mr. Bill's back. "Oh, Nooooooo!"

I actually found a Mr. Bill plush toy just before going to Tempe for the ironman. I did little comedy bits for John in which Mr. Hands talks Mr. Bill into doing the ironman. "But that water is really cold Mr. Hands." "That's OK, Mr. Bill. Oh look, here comes Mr. Sluggo to give you a little help getting into the water." "Oh, Noooooooo!" I've been reduced to a prop comic.

My alter ego to Mr. Bill is Mr. Sluggo. I become Mr. Sluggo when my energy levels are off and I don't feel like I can work out. Well, Mr. Sluggo has come back for a visit. This is probably not surprising given that the ironman was just over 2 and 1/2 weeks ago. I've been expecting Sluggo for a while. As I said in my last post, Sundays long run of 10 mile felt much longer. Wednesday, I got up early for a 12 mile run with Tony using the run/walk method. It wasn't a particularly hard workout and felt fine. This morning, I had to get up early again to take my mother in law to the hospital for a routine test. So I got up early 2 days in a row. Well, this afternoon, Sluggo returned in a big way. I feel exhausted.

I guess I should feel lucky. Another tri blogger I read, Missy, just came off of a PR in a half ironman event. A couple of weeks later, she was flat on her back in bed with what sounds like flu symptoms. I guess that no matter how well we eat and sleep, there is a price to be paid for doing these big endurance event efforts. We can get great results from our bodies, we just have to expect Mr. Sluggo to come pay a visit afterward. I just hope he doesn't stick around too long.

P.S. at 10 PM - I just found out that John has registered for the Lonestar 70.3 for April 25, 2009 in Galveston, Texas. So, we now both have pretty full schedules for 2010. "You can do it, Mr. Bill." "But Mr. Hands, that's a pretty full schedule." "That's OK, Mr. Bill. Mr. Sluggo will help you." "Oh Noooooooo!" 2010 is going to be another interesting year.

Rest, Recovery & Temptations

2009-12-08T10:40:00.007-05:00

I live on a big round ball. I never do dream I may fall.
And even one day if I do, well I'll jump up and smile back at you.
I don't even know where we are. They tell me were circling a star.
Well, I'll take their word, I don't know. But I'm dizzy so it may be so.
Defying Gravity - Jimmy Buffett

Periodization is a concept in sports training of in which you plan a target big event that you want to prepare for and compete in at your top form. Most endurance athletes are familiar with the concepts: base phase, build phase, peak phase and recovery phase. Within a macro cycle, athletes often place micro cycles of base, built, peak and recovery for smaller events as a build up to a major event. If charting fitness over time, the micro cycles end up looking like a series of upward sloping sine waves in which one's fitness level continues to improve over the course of a half year or year long build up toward a major event.

John & I followed this micro/macro periodization in our build up toward IMAZ. I started my build towards the Ironman by starting the year with a series of half marathons in January and February. John was out of action with his snowboard induced calf muscle tear. In March and April, I did 2 Olympic distance triathlons, with John returning to action for the April St. Anthony's event. We then built up towards June's Seattle Marathon. After a short recovery period, we then began our major base build in July and August, checked our progress with the Clermont HIM in September, and built towards our final peak in October, before tapering down for November's peak in Tempe. A pretty flawlessly executed periodization plan if you discount John's snowboard injury and my getting hit by a car in early September. Whether you can say we "peaked" at IMAZ is up to debate, but in my book completing the event was peaking. We both felt good about our training plan and still are proud of sticking to our plans.

As amateur athletes, however, we tend to violate the last step of periodization: recovery and transition. Most of us have no coach sketching out our training schedules and scheduling in rest and recovery periods. This opens the door for the slightly greedy and egotistical move to tack on another event after our major goal race. We hope that we can add one more cycle to that fitness sine wave and squeeze out another good performance without taking the down time to allow the body the rest and recovery it needs before building for another macro cycle. I am as guilty of this phenomena as anyone.

I only bring this up because in the weeks after completing the ironman, I planned to take it easy. I knew this last year was a big build up to the biggest event I had ever attempted. The couple of days after the ironman , I did some serious lounging around as I vacationed in Arizona. It felt good. My body needed the rest and recovery and I planned to give it just that. Then, I came back to Fort Lauderdale and all my training buddies. My first Sunday back, I go for what I plan as a 6 mile easy run with Salome and buddy Tony. Tony is training for the Miami Marathon as his first marathon. He plans to do the Galloway method. I agree to extend my run to 10 miles if we are doing the run/walk method. At about mile 9, Tony suggest that we tack on an additional mile to the run and I end up running 11 miles. Ouch! That was definitely too far to go on my first recovery run.

John e-mails me that he is registering for the Santa 5K run on Saturday. I decline to join in. I can't do a 5K without running it hard, so best to stay away. Then everyone is signing up for a charity century/metric century bike ride. I plan to start riding again, but at shorter distances. Again, I decline. My plan was and still is to take it easy in December, start a base phase in January and do a couple of half marathons in late January and mid February before getting ready for an Olypmic distance tri in March and the Paris Marathon in April.

Saturday morning, I get a race report call from John telling me how he ran a pretty good 5K time and who of our mutual sports friends he met at the race. He informs me that he plans to do the Miami Marathon and shoot for a Boston Qualifying time. He coaxes me out for a 45 minute swim at the pool. As we talk afterward, he mentions a half marathon he wants to do the following weekend. I say I'll consider it.

The next day, I opt for an easy 10 mile run. It feels like more, which tells me my body wants more light workouts and more down time. Afterward, I check my e-mail and find that John has pulled the trigger on the Florida Ironman registration for next November. I don't think he had even one drink in him when he signed up. I lost that bet. I call Tony and John to find out how the ride went. After giving his report, John informs me that he's also thinking about doing the Naples half marathon in mid January. "Tempter be gone!" I say. I tell him he's over scheduling. He rightly points out that I've scheduled events that take me through the end of October, 2010. Touche, dude.

In all fairness to John, last year he ran a half marathon in Fort Lauderdale the weekend after we did the Maimi Man Half Ironman. He ran it well, so I can't criticize his intent to continue the mega cycle and keep getting more fit. He may pull it off. As I said to him as we came across each other during the bike portion of IMAZ: "You are one strong Greek." I just know I can't follow suit. My body is telling me to take it easy for a while. I'm trying to listen to my body and ignore my buddies' tempting calls to get back in the game too soon. Hopefully, I can hold out until the new year.

Looking Ahead

2009-12-04T10:27:00.010-05:00

Letting the days go by/let the water hold me down.
Letting the days go by/water flowing underground.
Into the blue again/after the money's gone.
Once in a lifetime/water flowing underground. Once In a Lifetime - Talking Heads

I thought I was done with this blog. John & I completed our mission of doing IMAZ, and I completed my commitment to my buddy Wayne to blog about this year long journey. However, I like to check in occasionally to see if any of our listed followers posted any comments. When I go to check for comments, low and behold there is a new follower of the blog. Who would be signing on at this late date? I've got to check this out.

It turns out to be a Tri-blogger and Ironman athlete named Anne from Texas. Being curious, I read her most recent blog entry. Since completing Ironman Florida last month, Anne keeps getting asked the same question from people she tells about her experience: "Will you do another Ironman?" Funny thing is that John & I are getting the same question. Now, I put that question right up there with asking a woman just after she delivers a baby whether she plans to have more children. The immediate response is: "Are you mad? That was a long and painful experience that I'll never do again." However, the smile of a newborn infant softens the hardened heart; and you can't ignore the feeling of accomplishment and the sense of joy in crossing the finish line of an Ironman. Thus, we live in a world where couples have second and third children. We also live in a world where athletes keep coming back and doing the Ironman distance.

John already keeps bringing up in conversation that he keeps going to the Ironman web site to look at whether the Community Foundation slots are still open for Ironman Florida for 2010. I'm sure that all it will take is for John to come home from one of these holiday parties and do a little drunken registering and he'll be in for IMFL for next November. As his attorney and training buddy, I've advised him to wait and think about it over the holidays and not commit to a registration until the new year. I'm guessing that he'll register after getting home from a New Year's Eve party at approximately 3 AM on January 1, 2010.

As for me, my wife Salome jokingly states that she'll file for divorce if I register for another Ironman event. At least I think she's joking. I know a guy, who knows a guy, who knows a guy, whose friend actually ended up divorced over his commitment to Ironman events, so I don't take her statement totally idly. So for the time being, I plead my 5th Amendment right not to incriminate myself. More importantly, as stated in my last posting, I already registered for a good number of events for 2010, with half ironman events in mid-July (Vineman 70.3) and late October (Miami 70.3). Thus, I've got what I call "prophylactic registrations" that should keep me from doing an Ironman in 2010. I figure I should take a step back and try to get better at these shorter distances before jumping back in to the full ironman again. Like having kids, it looks like it may be best to have them a couple of years apart. It helps your spouse to forget the long months and special needs of getting ready for that special event.

In any event, I liked what I read of Anne's blog and added it to my list of blogs I follow. We now have a whopping 12 people that will publicly acknowledge that they read this thing. I guess I'll have to update the events I'm registered for in 2010. To my knowledge, John is not registered for any events in 2010 yet, but he did register for a 5K Santa run and a 60 mile charity bike ride, both for this weekend. Perhaps he'll post the next blog entry and tell us how it feels to jump back into the thick of things again so quickly.

Same as it ever was... Same as it ever was...Same as it ever was... Same as it ever was...

On Second Thought

2009-11-30T17:26:00.012-05:00

I intended to go into a lengthy review of John & my Ironman experiences. I spent a couple of hours doing a draft over the weekend but only got through the days leading up to the event. The narrative was overly long and really only meaningful to John & me. Thus, I've decided to scrap the long narrative in favor of just going through some bullet points of the overall event. Here goes:

1. Nutrition was the hardest thing to get right for the Ironman. Neither of us had to worry too much about this issue prior to this distance. For half ironman events, we simply took some goos, electrolyte tablets, maybe a Cliff Bar and a sports drink. For the Ironman, we were inundated with other people's and book's advice as to try to consume a load of calories during the bike course. The main result of this force feeding for me was to shut my stomach down completely during the run. I had a hard time even drinking water. The best I could make out was to mix the chicken broth from the aid stations with water and try to get my stomach to accept this mixture. I think I would have been better served taking a lot fewer calories and still having the ability to take in fluids during the run. Live and learn.

2. Man were we nervous. As first timers at this distance, there is nothing to compare it to from our past experiences. We figured we had to double our half ironman times and add an hour. This makes one pretty nervous and keyed up during the days leading up to the event. But, there is really no way to prepare for that first time other than doing it. It made for fun banter between the two of us with an undercurrent of hostility. Nothing serious mind you. After the event, all was forgiven and we were buddies again.

3. The mass swim start is insane! A first time for me. I'm used to 20 t0 30 person waves of swimmers. I found myself smack dab in the middle of 2800 swimmers in the open water. John was lucky to have had a little panic and swam off to the far right side of the large group and hug the seawall giving other swimmers only 3 side to hit him. The first five minutes of the swim, I wondering if I'm going to be drown by this extremely self-centered mob. I'm shocked no one gets knocked out and drowns. After the first 5 minutes, things spread out and settle down, but its a wild 5 minutes.

4. The volunteers at these events are by far the best in any sporting event I've ever participated in. They not only help you out of your wet suit in a kind and efficient manner, but the volunteers in the changing tents are like having your personal butler. "Let me wipe your feet for you and help you get on your socks." I haven't had this much help getting dressed since I was 4 years old. The volunteers at the aid stations were quick to get you what you wanted and cheerful and encouraging. This feature was much appreciated on the 2nd and 3rd laps of the marathon run. I was so pleased with these folks that I high fives them all on my last loop, thanked them and told them I wasn't coming back, but I really appreciated everything they had done for me. What can I say about the volunteer giving out metals. My wife Salome was there to greet me and put the metal around my neck. You can ask for more personal attention than that. Thanks for volunteering Salome. And thanks to all the volunteers for going above and beyond the call of duty to give great service.

5. Pain is a funny thing, but not "ha ha" funny. I wondered whether the pain and discomfort of such a long event would be worse than my worst marathon. Not so much. It turns out that the pain and discomfort don't get worse, it just keeps at about the same as any marathon. You just have to endure the pain and discomfort longer. I guess that's why they are call endurance events. Of course the same can not be said for gastro-intestinal issues. I've never dealt with such a tricky situation as when my digestive track decided it didn't like going 14 hours shut down. I guess that is the main difference between these really long events and marathons and half ironman events.

6. It really helps to have a good training buddy to train for and get through these events. I guess you could do the training and go through the event solo, but that would be a lot harder and less fun. Thanks John for all of your time and mutual support in getting ready and training for this event. We saw each other for the first time on the third lap of the bike course and ended up in T2 at the same time. It felt good to know your buddy was hanging in there and that our game plan was working.

7. There is nothing like going down that final shoot high fiving all the people going absolutely nuts in support of your finish. To hear Mike Reilly call our your name and say "You are an Ironman" is just amazing. If that doesn't bring a tear of joy to your eye, nothing will. It makes all of the struggle of the last miles well worth it. What a blast!

8. It was great to have so many friends and family following us live on the internet the whole day that we were doing this event. When I first crossed mats in the run, I thought about the verification that every runner did the full course without cutting corners. As I continued on, I realized that this was also a signal out to friends and family that we were still out there plugging away. It lifted my spirits knowing you all were tracking us. To hear from some of you that you saw our crossing the finish line live on the net was really amazing.

9. It was also great to get all of your calls, e-mails and Facebook posting congratulating us on our achievement. Thank you all from the bottom of our hearts for your good wishes and encouragement along the way. It meant a lot to both of us. Of course, knowing you were all aware of what we were doing also kept our feet to the training fire and kept us going on the course when things got tough. When you have so many people to answer to, you are not giving up. At the end of the event, John bestowed a new nickname on me: "Iron Will." Well, I am the first to acknowledge that the will is forged by the love and support of those who care about us. Thank you all from the bottom of my heart.

10. To quot one last song: "What a long strange trip its been!" I thought that running the Disney Marathon for my 50th birthday was my gift to myself. It was only in completing this event that pretty much covered my entire 50th year that I realize the Ironman was my gift to myself. I figured turning 50, I didn't want to wait another year before attempting this monster feat. In completing it, I now realize that training and completion of the ironman was the best gift I could have given myself. I'm probably in the best shape of my life from all this training. You can't give yourself a better gift than that.

Well, that about sums it up for me. "Iron John" may want to chime in with his thoughts and feelings about the Ironman. John's blog handle was "Half Iron John (for now)." Be sure to change that to "Iron John" buddy. I started this blog out of a mutual obligation to buddy Wayne Crayton who was to do his Trampathon abroad in Europe where he would run 3 marathons in six weeks as he toured Western Europe. As you may know, Wayne's plans got pushed back a year due to his cardio surgery, but he is recovered and his Trampathon plans for the Spring of 2009 just got rolled forward to the Spring of 2010. Salome & I will join Wayne as well as several other friends in Paris in April to run the Paris Marathon. It will be his second of the three, the other 2 being Rome in March and Madrid in late April/early May. Well buddy, it looked like your commitment to the blogosphere would end first. You just never know how it works out until it plays out. Keep up the good work. I expect full and entertaining reports from Europe.

Me, I've enjoyed doing this blog the last 12 months, but it is like writing a weekly or semi-weekly newspaper column. You've got to think about something to write and try to make it entertaining. I hope I've informed and entertained you guys with these postings. I don't know if I'll keep it up. My schedule of events for next year is already filling up. I wanted to make sure there was life after the Ironman. John took a different tactic of not scheduling any events until after the Ironman was over. I'm sure that John will end up doing plenty if history is any indicator of the future. The guy is busier than I've ever been, a better athlete (at least at distances over the half marathon), and ends up doing more with his free time than I could hope to do. He just may be the guy that they patterned those Dos Equis beer commercials on. Its either him or our buddy Roger. In any event, our schedules will most likely diverge in the coming year. Thus, if I do continue the blogging, I may need to go solo and think up a new name.

Enjoy the holiday season. I know I will. I only plan to do maintenance and recovery workouts until the new year. I think I've earned the rest. Stay thirsty my friends.

Ironman!

2009-11-24T16:44:00.005-05:00

Ironman Arizona was this Sunday. Yours truly and buddy John hung in from sunrise to well past sunset to hear Mike Rielly announce and anoint us by saying as we crossed the finish line: "You are an Ironman!" The quick version is that we survived the human chum that is the start of the swim leg with 2800 other swimmers. The bike leg was interesting in that we tried to maintain our planned average speed amid a strong headwind on the mostly uphill outbound portion of the 3 loop course and a killer tail wind on the mostly downhill portion of the 35 mile loops. Tricky math indeed. The marathon was a bit of a survival juggle for me with my stomach totally shutting down the ability to take in even plain water. Thank God for warm chicken broth and amazing volunteers. Our swim times were better than budgeted; the bikes times a little over-budget. John beat his run time estimates to come in at 13:18. I came in one minute and an hour later at 14:19.

The experience was a blast, a joy and a trial all rolled into one, ending with the epiphany of the finish. I have many thoughts and feelings about this that I will go into in a much longer posting after I return home from a much deserved Arizona vacation. I was simply amazed at the number of you that tracked us online. In the spirit of Thanksgiving, I am thankful that I was able to complete this year long mission. I'm thankful for all of your interest and support of John and my efforts in this journey. I'm thankful for John's joint efforts in planning and executing this task. Finally, I'm thankful for my family's love and support. Happy Thanksgiving everyone.

Certifiable

2009-11-15T17:33:00.013-05:00

In order to participate the ancient Olympic games, athletes were supposed to stop their regular mode of making a living, and undergo a minimum of ten months of intensive training. The idea was that the athlete would train full time to get their bodies to an extraordinary level of fitness. In showing up at the Olympic games, the athlete would have to certify that he had undergone the required level of training in order to be allowed to participate in the games. To some degree, national Olympic committees today require a level of fitness and conditioning to participate in various Olympic events by having qualifying standards that must be met in order to be eligible to compete for a spot on that country's Olympic team.

I am ready to attest that training buddy John and I are certifiable to participate in the Arizona Ironman next Sunday. Yes, I know what you're thinking: certifiably crazy! I'm not sure I'd argue that point. Perhaps it is a bit nutty to connect up a 2.4 mile open water swim with a 112 mile bike ride, and topping it all off with a marathon for good measure. But its been done before. Thousands have done so before us. We call them "Ironmen." In any event, it truly is a crazy and amazing endeavor to attempt and achieve. We both have huge respect for the men and women who accomplished this goal. It still kind of boggles the mind that anyone can complete an event that starts at sunrise and goes on for 10 plus hours.

I'm not exactly sure how we even got to the mental place that got us to think that doing an Ironman was even within the realm of our achievement. I guess its doing the events leading up to this crazy distance. We've both done many marathons. That's about a 3 1/2 hour to 4 1/2 hour endeavor, depending on the course and our conditioning. Then, we started doing sprint triathlons, events that take in the range (for us) from around 1 hour to 1 hour 15 minutes. That opened the door to the question of which was more demanding: a marathon or a half ironman. The half ironman is about a 6 to 7 hour endurance event (again, for us at least). Of course, there was only one way to answer that question. So about a year ago, John & I did the Miami Man Half Ironman. Low and behold, it could be done. I guess that only opens yet another door of whether we were up to the full ironman distance.

Knowing full ironman events fill up quickly, we registered last November for the Ironman Arizona. We then started researching a training plan, nutrition plans, and questioned all of our buddies that had done ironman events and came up with a training plan. For the last 10 months or so, we dedicated ourselves to training for IMAZ. We threw in a summer marathon, did several Olympic distance triathlon events, and a half ironman in September as a gut check on our training. We did three 2 1/2 mile swims, 3 century rides, and two 2o mile runs in preparation for this event. We have other friends that completed ironman events on less training than this, but this was what we figured was appropriate training for this distance. We did each and every scheduled long training event, never skipping a major workout. Unlike Olympic athletes that train pretty much full time for their events, we did all this while trying our best to maintain our work and family lives. This level of training does suck up a ton, if not all, of your free time. But I'm here to certify that we did all the training we planned to do in preparation for this event. We are ready for this event.

But like all athletes that do all the hard work to get to the Olympic, we can still mess up our event by failing to follow our game plan. John & I both scuba dive and one of the rules of diving is to "plan your dive" and "dive your plan." John is very good at following his game plan to a tee; me, I have a history of going rogue. I usually pay for this mistake. Thus, I plan to not let any feelings that I'm doing well cause me to change the plan. I have no time goal in mind. I simply want to complete this event. In playing it conservatively, I'm budgeting 14 to 15 hours to complete the event. If I do better, great; if it takes longer, that's OK too. At this point, I simply want to get the hoped for payoff for all this hard work: crossing the finish line.

This is probably my last posting before next Sunday's event. I want to thank all of you that have given John & me guidance and advice in preparing for this event. Thanks to all of you who have taken the time to read my somewhat longish blog entries. Thanks mostly to buddy John for all the virtual and actual training together. I know it would have been immensely harder to get all this training in without knowing he was either meeting me for a ride or run, meeting at the pool, or doing a separate workout that I needed to match. Finally, thanks to my family for putting up with this whole endeavor. Now, we just need to fly out to Arizona and get this thing done. At this point, I'm excited, nervous and itching to go.

Bye Bye Bike

2009-11-11T13:01:00.005-05:00

Bye bye, love. Bye bye, happiness. Hello, loneliness. I think I'm a-gonna cry-y. Bye Bye Love -The Everly Brothers

I dropped my beloved Cervelo P2 Tri-bike at the drop ship bike shop in Miami yesterday for shipping out to the race cite in Tempe, Arizona. Before dropping it off, I took a final ride to make sure all was in working order. I then had to remove the carbon water bottle seat post attachment and computer from the bike. I also packed my gear bag with my tri-suit, running and biking shoes, tools, lubes, spare tubes and cartridges, tri-belt and water bottles. The whole ordeal caused a little accelerated anxiety in that I was forced to go through my checklist of items to make sure to have for race day a week before I have to pack for the flight out of town.

While I've only had the Cervelo for two months, I've grown to really love this bike. Yes, its pretty much limited to use for triathlons and tri-training, but I really feel it makes a difference in saving the legs for the run. The long time in the aero position took some getting used to, but I feel my neck muscles have made the adjustments necessary for this task. This morning, I rode a regular road bike for a bike/run brick, with my secondary helmet, gloves, shoes and peddles. I missed the feel of the Cervelo already. Oh well, the separation is brief. Soon, I'll be reunited with my bike in Tempe. I hope to still have good feelings about my bike after the 112 mile ride portion of the Ironman.

And I'm Gettig Blown Away

2009-11-08T17:55:00.013-05:00

Saturday was the last workout of real substance before heading into real taper time. John & I had planned an Olympic Bike/Run brick (25 mile ride/10 run). We were scheduled to meet at my house before dawn to get the brick knocked out before John had to go home and pack for a weekend trip to New York to attend a wedding. Late Thursday, I was given 4 tickets to the Friday night Miami Heat game. In order to make sure I didn't get short sleep with John arriving too early and fresh for Saturday's workout, I invited John to join my wife, son Alex and me at the game. Of course, he saw right through the ruse, but graciously accepted the invitation. The game was great, with the Heat sending the Denver Nuggets to their first loss of the season.

I check on weather conditions for Saturday morning was not as pleasant. The forecast for the entire weekend was for steady winds out of the NE at 19 to 20 mph, with gusts up to 35 mph. As I got up Saturday at 5:15 AM, I could see the trees getting blown westward pretty good. After getting my pre-ride grub in my and checking my bike, I strolled around in front of my house. The forecast seemed to be pretty accurate; these were steady 19 to 20 winds. It looked like it would be pretty stupid to ride in such conditions, so when John arrived, I suggested that we bag the bike and do a 12 mile run. "No, let's stick to the plan," John said, "It could be windy in Tempe and this would be good practice for windy conditions." We compromised that if it was too windy after our 10 mile loop south, we would cut the ride short of the remaining 15 ride north and lengthen the run.

As we head south, I note that its too windy to risk going to the aero position. Getting in the aero position may be good to cut the wind, but it gives less stability for handling the bike during the gusts that regularly kicked up. Worse, the ride south goes past pretty much open beach. The wind blew sand creating wide patches of sand. Not friendly to a steady tire grip on the road. Living in South Florida, both John & I have done many long runs in "Like a Hurricane" conditions. However, there is a big difference running on wet, slippery roads. Its a wholly different experience riding a road bike in such conditions.

John rides very conservatively, but I take advantage of short periods of slower winds to pick up my pace and actually spend some time in the aero position. John does not follow suit. Every time I look around to see if he's with me, he is clear out of sight. I make two or three stops along the ride to wait for him to catch up. Of course, he pays me back later.

After pulling into my garage and doing our transition, we run out towards the beach for the 10K. When we get to the beach, we are sand blasted by the wind and sand. I'm running slightly ahead of John and when we get to the turn around point, John turns where he is about 50 feet short of the turn around. So now, he who was following, now has the lead. John being a better into the wind runner than I, not only crosses the street to get further away from the wind, but starts upping his pace. Yes, paybacks are Hell. I decide that this isn't a race, its a workout. I let him go off ahead and keep at my training pace. The winds are blowing the sand into my side such that I've got to turn my head slightly west to avoid getting sand blown into my eyes. I am coated with a fine misting of sand that has somehow been blown through my tri suit and is literally everywhere.

As we get off the beach and are running though the backstreets of my surrounding neighborhood, I come across my wife Salome on the outward leg of her morning run. I yell to her that John cheated by shorting the course at the turnaround. In reality, he keeps getting further and further in front of me and ends up with over a 300 yard lead. As I complete the somewhat winding road of the last mile to my house, I've completely lost sight of John. When I turn onto my street, I can see him finishing at my house at the end of the road. As I come up to him, I say, "Nice work, you negative splitting bastard." Of course, I say this in a nice, training buddy sort of way, mind you. We bump fists knowing we've just completed our last long workout.

The next morning, I note that I received an e-mail from John asking me to re-read the taper portion of "the Bible," Going Long by Joe Friel & Grodon Byrn. He asks me for my workout plan for the next 2 weeks. Of course, he asks for this information without disclosing his plans. I can see I'm being set up for a critique. In essence, the book recommends doing shorter workouts, but more interval work instead of a steady easier workload. I had already decided that this plan was for experienced Ironman triathletes that were trying to move up the competitive ranks. Me, I'm an IM rookie. I just want to get done in a reasonable time and survive this thing.

I spent Sunday working on my bike getting it ready for shipping out with TriBike Transport on Wednesday. I changed the tires, cleaned the bike, de-greased and lubed the chain and gears, and removed the carbon water bottle holders as instructed by the TriBike folks. I then went shopping for more goos and other miscellaneous supplies for the trip.

Monday morning, I take out the bike for a shakeout ride to make sure everything is in working order before removing the pedals (another TriBike requirement). The winds are again blowing at the 20 mph range. Again, a scary ride getting blown sideways by swirling winds and trying to avoid both huge patches of slippery sand and fast moving cars on their way to work. I cut the ride short at 12.5 miles. I've come too far to get in an event ending road accident in conditions that I would otherwise never ride in.

Tonight, I'll give the bike a last cleaning to get the sand from this morning's ride. Tomorrow, I take the bike to Miami to drop it at the bike shop that acts as a drop for TriBike Transport. I'll still get in a couple of easy rides on my wife's road bike, but that's it for tri-bike riding. Now, its mostly short tempo runs and 45 minute maintenance swims in the pool. I'd like one last open water swim in my wet suit, but the surf is again in "Like a Hurricane" conditions. Its supposed to be windy and a ruff surf all week long. Hopefully, it will calm by the weekend.

Say Amen Sombody!

2009-11-04T17:38:00.006-05:00

Today, John & I rode our last century ride prior to Ironman Arizona. The out portion heading north along A1a put us into a head wind. It rained a bit on and off on the ride north, just enough to coat our bikes and drink bottles with a dirt and grit. You had to spit out the first sip of water as it came in a mixture of mud and fluids. However, the overcast skies kept it from getting hot on the outbound journey. We spotted running buddy, Jen Jones out for her morning run as we passed through Boyton Beach.

We received our dividend of wind assistance on the ride home. It got a little hot as the morning progressed towards the noon hour. John had kept talking about doing a 30 minute run at the end of the ride, but by the time we were in Boca Raton about mile 80 it was getting a bit too toasty. I told John the run was out for me. I had done a 5K treadmill run after our last century 10 days earlier and felt no need to prove that I can run after a century ride.

After stopping at my house, John changed into running shoes and took off for his run. I hosed and cleaned my bike. When I finish, John had yet to return. As a good training buddy, I hosed and cleaned his bike also. He returned the favor by springing for lunch. As he said, I now know what my cleaning services are worth.

With this ride, our very long workouts for IMAZ are done. Completed. In the books. Fini. We had mapped out and have now completed two 20 mile training runs, three century rides, and two 2.5 mile swims. Of course, there were numerous other workouts leading up to and interspersed with these longer workouts. We will do an Olympic bike/run brick this Saturday, then cut way back for the last 2 weeks of taper before the event. All I can say is "Say Amen Somebody!" We have climbed the mountain of workouts and are at the summit of Mount Workout-More. We can now coast downhill to the promised land: Tempe, Arizona.

Life's Like a Box of Chocolates

2009-11-01T17:43:00.011-05:00

"For no particular reason I just kept on going. I ran clear to the ocean. And when I got there, I figured, since I'd gone this far, I might as well turn around, just keep on going." Forrest Gump

When John first mentioned the idea of running the Halloween Half Marathon on Miami Beach and add a 7 mile run to it, I thought he was a bit off his chum. I've heard of people trying to do a run after a race to get their weekend long run up to a particular mile mark, but always heard that it didn't work out well. Usually this is due to the person running the extra miles after a race run at race speed. John's running friend Deb, whom he met at the Gold Coast Marathon in Australia was running it and John decided running the race would be a great way to knock out our planned 20 miler. Since the weather looked to be warm as the morning wore on, I convinced John to run the extra 7 miles before the half marathon instead of afterward.

Deb is originally from Australia, but now lives in Fort Lauderdale with her Mid-Western husband Mark, a really great and friendly guy, and her two young blond hairs boys who kept us in stitches with their post-race antics. Mark and the boys were heading down at a reasonable hour later in the morning, so I picked up John & Deb at John's condo complex for the ride down to Miami Beach. At around 79th Street the traffic was funneled down to one lane and finally diverted off of I-95 completely, dumping us into what we all knew was a not so nice neighborhood. As we passed a couple of "working women" at about 5 AM, Deb starts to tell us about an incident she had where she got lost in a not so nice section of Fort Lauderdale looking for some governmental office. Deb tells us that as she rolled down her window to ask for directions some women advised her to "buy her stuff from them, because the guys will rip you off." I tell an off color joke I'd heard the night before on Comedy Central about a guy trying to get beads tossed at him from a float during Mardi Gras. The whole thing had a sort of whistling through the graveyard feel to it. Tell jokes as you ride through a neighborhood you wouldn't voluntarily drive through and maybe all will go well.

We clear the bad neighborhood and turn onto US-1 heading south. We finally get to Parrot Jungle, a tourist attraction that is the sight of the race start. After Port-O-Potty stops, John and I leave Deb to do our 7 mile pre-race run. We follow the race course along MacArthur Causeway past the cruise ships coming and going from their week touring the Caribbean. Its still dark with a cool breeze coming off the water. On the return run, I start in on a bad Arnold Schwarzenegger impression to avoid hearing further lecturing on pacing from John "the Governator." John keeps us on about a 9 minute pace that he figures is what we should not go faster than to complete the whole 20 miles.

We make it back to the start area about 2 minutes before the start of the half marathon. Almost all 800 participants are in closed off and gated corrals. I suggest we go to the back of the pack and work out way up to the appropriate pace area during the race. However, Deb waves to us from near the front of the starting line. As I jog towards the back John says, "No, let's go hop the barrier and get in with Deb. She said she would run at our 9 minute pace." I knew that Deb was a pretty good runner and that this would be a bit of a slow pace for her if she was racing the half marathon, but assumed John and Deb must have discussed and agreed upon her running our pace. So, back we jog to near the front of the crowd and squeeze in from the front past the first five lines of runners. You know these people, predominantly guys, that are planning to run so fast that they go shirtless because they are going to get so hot running at such fast speeds (and besides they've got their 6-pack abs and this is the only way they can show them off without looking like they are showing off their 6-pack abs).

I turn to John & Deb and say, "We are going to get run over." I just ran 7 miles and hadn't planned to have to bolt off the front with the fast boys and girls. Oh, well, I figure, we're going to pace out together. We'll let the fast runners go around us and find our proper pacing place within the first mile. As the race starts, I go off at the pace of those around me. Too fast. I look around and neither John nor Deb are with me. I have gone out too fast due to lining up with the fast runners. Oh well, stupid is as stupid does. I slow a bit and find Deb. John is no where in sight.

As we run the first couple of miles together, I mention that I'd better pace back to John in order to avoid a lecture. I fall back at the first water station. When John catches up, I am not so lucky as to avoid the "proper pacing" lecture. John starts telling me some lame recycled story he picked up at a business meeting about personal responsibility...blah, blah, blah. It kind of sounded like one of those lectures high school gym teachers tell guys about practicing safe sex. If I'd known I'd be in for this treatment, I'd have stayed up with a better looking and more friendly Deb. As John carries on, all I could think about was the various ways you can eat shrimp. You can barbecue it, boil it, broil it, bake it, saute it. There is shrimp-kabob, shrimp creole, shrimp gumbo. Pan fried, deep fried, stir-fried. There's pineapple shrimp, lemon shrimp, coconut shrimp, pepper shrimp, shrimp soup, shrimp stew, shrimp salad, shrimp and potatoes, shrimp burger, shrimp sandwich. That's about it.

After John's lecture, we settle into a steady 9 minute pace and start appreciating the costumed runners in our area. Some people really got into the Halloween theme with some great costumes. One guy ran with a diaper and pacifier; probably a good way to avoid any Port-O-Potty stops, I guess. There were a lot of women dressed up as Wonder Woman. My feeling is that all women endurance athletes are Wonder Woman. There were also a couple of guys dressed up in various stages of Forrest Gump during his running phase. More on that in a bit.

I've always endorsed the Miami Half Marathon and Marathon as the most beautiful runs in the state of Florida at those distances. Well, the Halloween Half just one upped the Miami Half. While it pretty much matches the Miami Half route, it makes the Miami Beach portion even more pictureque by going completely along the ocean front the entire route. The middle miles end up on a boardwalk along the beach with beautiful views of the beach and ocean. Additionally, the boardwalk has a little more give to it over the road making it feel a little like a trail run. Finally, the out and back aspect of the beach part of the run gives you a chance to see the race leaders and your friends. John and I see Deb as she is doubling back. We shout encouragement and exchange high fives.

For most of the run, John is pacing just behind me such that I can't tell whether he is holding steady or falling off my pace. However, having promised to not run faster than an 8:55 pace, I keep self correcting and slowing a bit. "We are training for the ironman, not racing a half marathon," I keep repeating to myself. At about mile 10, my hips and pelvis start to bother me. This is the one residual I notice that is left over from my bike accident back in early September. This give me some concern about how I'll feel at the 26.2 mile distance. However, I figure there is not much I can do about it. My momma always said, "Life was like a box of chocolates. You never know what you're gonna get." I decide its best to slow a bit and take my pace back to 9:20s. As John passes me, I tell him to go ahead. John pulls away still keeping the steady 9's.

As John starts to approach the finish line, he realizes that he's about to get passed by a guy dressed as Forrest Gump. The guy has the full beard and wild hair of Forrest Gump at the end of his running with the group of running disciples. As he passes Deb and her family, he shouts out, "I'm getting beat by Forrest Gump." Then shouts, "No I'm not." He starts a final kick, which only causes Forrest to start a finish kick. They end up crossing at the same time. I come in about a minute later.

That evening, John looks up his results and can't find his time listed. It turns out Deb came in second in her age group. John stumbles across the "Fastest Funny Costume - Men" division and tries to find Forrest Gump. Instead he finds his time listed. He queries by e-mail to Deb and me, "Did I look that funny? Go figure." My response was that I think they had him down as "Person in crowd running with Forrest Gump."

Anyway, that's all I have to say about that.

Contrast

2009-10-28T10:54:00.019-04:00

Training buddy John is a member of the Lauderdale Yacht Club. The club has a pool with swim lanes. Its not an Olympic sized pool, but it works for our evening swims. Last evening we had a swim/run brick planned. The pool is in the back of the yacht club which has a bar, food service area, and tables for outdoor seating. As I approach the pool area, I notice that the club is having one of its evening socials. Couples in casual outdoor evening attire are mingling around with drinks in hand, taking offered hors d'oeuvres from waitstaff, and listening to a steel drum reggae band. The crowd has that relaxed look of people that have a drink or two in them and are really enjoying a party. Not New Year's Eve fun, mind you, but a casual mixer type of fun.

I find a table out of the way near the kiddie pool so as not to have my towel, running shoes and car keys get in the way. John is running late as usual, so I get ready, dive in the pool and start my laps. Its a bit of a weird feeling doing your swim workout in the midst of a party. I feel somewhat on display and yet apart from what's going on around me. There is the usual guy who drifts off from the party to have a lengthy personal cell phone conversation. He distractedly walks around the perimeter of the pool as he ignores the party and focuses on his conversation. I can't figure out if he's been dragged to this event by his spouse and is using the call as a party avoidance technique, or if the conversation is actually important. I try to ignore this guy pacing around me and focus on my laps.

John shows up, apologizing for his late arrival. We agree to make the swim a 45 minute swim and to 4 miles afterward. I have a 15 minute lead on him in the pool. Thus, after my 45 minutes of swimming are up, I have a 15 minute wait for Johnny come lately. I shower, dry off and put on my running shoes. I am off to the side of the party, but have nothing better to do than people watch. The crowd is now deeper into their cups and are having a very nice social evening. Then it hits me: but for this ironman training, that would be me at a social gathering enjoying a glass or two of wine on a Wednesday evening.

John and I have discussed how knowing you have a long run or ride the next morning has kept us from accepting a lot of invitations to go out, have a drink or two, or three, and stay out late. No, training for an ironman causes you to think more and more about what you will put in your body, whether wine, a harder drink, or that ever tempting, but not helpful, desert. My weight is down in spite of my increases appetite and calorie consumption. It feels great coming out of the pool, chest a little pumped up from the swim. John & I are probably in the best shape of our lives.

From my vantage point, mid-workout, just outside the party, these party goers look soft. They most likely could not run a half marathon or swim a mile. But they do look like they are having a very good time. I am a bit disdainful and envious of these party goers at the same time. I guess I deserve having other people's good times thrown in my face for doing a swim workout at a yacht club. I vow to continue my Spartan existence until the AZIM. There will be no backsliding at this point. However, once I cross that finish line, I will be imbibing in a drink or two; that is, if I'm not imbibing IV fluids.

The Impossible Seems Possible

2009-10-25T14:47:00.005-04:00

Three weekends ago, in the midst of Florida's record breaking fall heat wave, my long workouts were killers. I had to cut short my intended 15 mile long run to a 12 miler. My century ride was shortened to a 94 mile ride at the end of which I was risking heat exhaustion and suffered cramping. I had to cut my long open water swim at 1.5 miles do to simply being tired. From that vantage point, the ironman distance looked impossible. I figured I would be able to complete the swim and probably finish the bike portion of the ironman, but I couldn't fathom getting off of a 112 mile ride and running a marathon. I vowed to myself that I would continue training and give the Arizona Ironman a go, but frankly, completing the event seemed impossible.

I kept at the training. Then, last weekend a cold front finally, God blessedly, moved into Florida. The temperatures dropped out of the high 80s and low 90s, down to the 50s. I got a 22 mile long run in last Saturday. I did a long pool swim on Friday morning that buddy John calculated to be a 2.5 mile swim. Yesterday, John & I did very smart steady paced century ride that left me feeling so good that I was able to top it off with a 5K run to make it a brick. This morning, I went to the ocean and did a 2 hour open water swim and ran back the 2.5 miles along the sand.

Suddenly, what previously seemed impossible, seems possible. I felt good enough last Saturday that I felt I could have run a full marathon that day. I felt good enough on the ride yesterday that I believe I could have continued the ride to compete a 112 bike ride. I felt good enough coming off the bike yesterday that I believe I could have run a marathon if it had been the day of the event. From my last 2 swims, I know I can complete the swim portion of the ironman. I'm suddenly coming to the belief and understanding that I will be able to string all of these events together on one day. It will take very smart nutrition and effort management, but I know believe it can be done.

My body has made the adjustments and is ready to do the ironman. I still have a long run and long ride to complete, but my body has made the adjustment. My training is at the peak of the training hill. The next couple of weeks are coasting at the this peak before easing off in taper and resting the body for the event day. This is good, because I now am ready for the final level of training: mental training. Belief is the first step in being able to complete. I now believe this thing is realistically doable. Its clearly possible. Now, I simply need to start thinking about my game day nutrition and strategies. Its time to plan to make the possible a reality.

Do You Feel Like I Do?

2009-10-22T09:39:00.015-04:00

Do you feel....like I do? Do you feel.... like I do? Do You Feel Like We Do - Peter Frampton

Way, way back in 1976, Frampton Comes Alive was released. I was a junior in high school and "Do You Feel Like We Do" was the hit single off the album. The first 2 short verses of the song were kind of irrelevant to the jazz like extended jam. In the later part of the song, Peter Frampton first hushes the live audience, then brings it to a cheering frenzy with his call and response of "Do You Feel Like We Do?" during an extended "talkbox" solo, an effects pedal which redirects a guitar's sound through a tube into the performer's mouth, allowing the guitar to mimic human speech. It was a marathon of a song, clocking in at about 14 minutes. Not what you would consider radio friendly. Thus, for the first month or so of the album's release, you would listen to this cool, jazzy song on your home stereo and really enjoy this extended jam. People heard about it through word of mouth and the album became a huge seller.

Unfortunately, the song and album got so popular that pop radio couldn't leave it alone. Soon you couldn't drive in your car with the radio on without the song coming up in quick rotation. Like many popular things in our culture, the more popular something becomes, the quicker commercial interests will force it down our throats so often that we want to throw up. Too much of a good thing. What had been cool and cutting edge very quickly became hackneyed and uncool through overexposure. "Do You Feel Like We Do" became the poster child for this phenomena. "Do You Feel Like We Do" would come on the radio and my automatic response was to change the station. Fast! I'd come to resent a song I used to love. To this day, my conditioned response to this song is revulsion.

Other than showing how F-ing old I am, why do I bring this up? Because at some point in training for a full ironman event, the sheer volumn of training starts to wear on you. While you have to enjoy training to do a half or full ironman, at some point the long swim, long bike ride, and long run start getting old. I've noticed this phenomena in other triathlon bloggers. Luckily, the sense of "this shit is getting old" seems to kick in just before taper time. It may be the body's and mind's way of telling you that its OK to cut back. It may be the mind's way of letting you know that you'll want to rest up a bit before the big event. Either that or the mind simply gets tired of routine.

These thoughts entered my mind last evening while doing an hour pool swim solo. If you've read my prior blog entries, you probably know that I prefer open water swimming to pool swims. The up and back of a pool just gets monotonous for me. I like seeing the shore go by on a long swim. It makes me feel like I'm making progress. I guess I'd say the same thing about running and biking. I'll use a treadmill to run if its just too hot or too wet to run outside. I simply can not get myself to ride on a trainer. I tried it for a while, but just can't bring myself to use one. My mind needs the changing scenery to keep it interesting.

In any event, I have no doubt that I'll get through these last couple of weeks of long training before tapering down to race day. I also know that after some time off post event, I will come to love the training again. In fact, I somehow have "Do You Feel Like We Do" on my iPod. I play my music in random play mode to keep things interesting. This morning, "Do You Feel Like We Do" cued up on the iPod. I almost hit the skip button on my car music system, but resisted the automatic urge to not listen to this song. After 33 years of not listening to this song, it actually sounded pretty good again. Hopefully, it will not take that long to get back into training after Arizona.

So, I must ask in closing, do you feel like I do?

Going Back to Gainesville

2009-10-19T22:14:00.027-04:00

Yes, I'm Goin' Down to Florida, Where The Sun Shines Damn Near Every Day. Well I'm Goin' Down In Florida, Where The Sun Shines Damn Near Every Day. Yeah, I'll Take My Woman Out On The Beach, And Sit Down On The Sand And Play.

Yeah, I Think I'll Go Down Gainesville, Just To See An Old Friend Of Mine. Well, I Believe I'll Cut Down to Gainesville, Just To See An' Old Buddy Of Mine. Well, You Know If We're Not Too Busy, I Believe We'll Drop Over to Newberry Sometime. Deep Down In Florida - Muddy Waters

Well, for me it was more "Going Up to Gainesville," but I have to quot Muddy Waters accurately. In any event, this past weekend was Homecoming at the University of Florida in Gainesville, Florida. With my son John a Freshman at UF and a trombone player in the "Pride of the Sunshine State" (the Florida Gator Marching Band), Salome & I decided to take young son Alex and go visit some an old buddy of mine. My buddy Jeff Dollinger, who I attended both undergraduate and law school with, had returned to Gainesville after a couple of years in Fort Lauderdale and had lived deep down in Florida ever since. If its at all possible to imagine, Gainesville is philosophically "Deep Down in Florida," while South Florida is more northern, at least in feel. Gainesville has more in common with Southern Georgia than South Florida. Spanish moss, smaller town feel; yes, Gainesville is the South. Its also a great college town.

Prior to leaving for the five hour drive north from Ft. Lauderdale, I was able to get in a 1.5 mile swim on Thursday morning. I had my doubts as to whether I'd get that swim in last week. The open water had been rough all week. I had contingency plans to do a 25 mile ride, but when I woke up Thursday morning and looked out my window at the inter-coastal waterway, I knew the water was calling. It was finally calm enough to swim with the fishes. While I did get a pool swim in earlier in the week, there is nothing like a long open water swim. I love getting into a rhythm undisturbed by turns required in a pool. Thus, I headed north feeling like my workouts were once again in balance.

We got into Gainesville pretty late, so it was off to my Aunt's house and off to bed. Friday morning, I had breakfast with Salome & Alex, before running 3 miles through downtown, past the University and out the law school to meet Jeff and his son Brian. Brian is a senior in high school and was going to race the Gator Gallop, a 2 mile run that starts off the homecoming parade. I ran it easy with Jeff who hadn't run regularly in a couple of years. He had switched over to swimming as his main exercise, but agreed to run with the Gallop. It's primarily a true "fun run." We treated it as such. All in all, I got in 5 easy miles between the 2 runs. After the run, I worked my way back to the parade route to meet up with Salome & Alex in front of John's fraternity house, Delta Upsilon. Another good buddy of ours, John Neukamm, a former DU President, was also in front of the house watching the parade.

That night, it was off to Gator Growl, billed as the largest pep rally in the country. Growl is largely student skits, introduction of the senior class of the football team, followed by a comedian and some music. The comedian this year was Dana Carvey, who was pretty good. The music was by O.A.R., also pretty good. However, young Alex got tired and we left before O.A.R. finished playing. We picked up older son John and went out to eat at "The Original Pizza Place."

Saturday was all about the football game between the Gators and the Arkansas Razorbacks. We met up with son John and the band and marched with them to the stadium. Jeff had set us up with great seats 16 rows up in the northwestern corner of the end-zone. We could watch Tim Tebow warm up with his receivers, and were surrounded by a charged up crowd. You could probably say that about the whole stadium. "The Swamp" gets loud and is a twelfth man on defense. If you saw the game, you know it was a nail biter. The Gators keep losing the ball in the first half and went into half-time trailing for the first time this year. It was a back and forth second half, with the Gators breaking a tie by a field goal with seconds left on the clock. We all went nuts cheering and singing the Alma Mater at game's end. Afterward, we marched back out of the stadium with the band back to their start area, where they played some more. We again met up with John for anther dinner together as a family.

A cold front had moved in the area during the day Saturday, but it wasn't too cold; however, overnight the temperatures dropped into the low 50s. Ah, yes, the cold front I'd been dreaming of had finally arrived in full. The record breaking heat wave of the last couple of weeks was finally broken. Buddy Jeff had given me directions to a "Rails to Trails" course about a mile west of where we were staying. I found the trail, but went in the opposite direction from what Jeff had intended I take. No matter. The temperatures we ideal for a long run and I had a 20 miler on the schedule. It was sweet. However, I was in unfamiliar territory, so that the end of the run that I planned to run through the UF campus ended up extending my run to a 22 and 1/4 mile run. It was OK by me. I figured I was running in temperatures about 35 degrees cooler than my previous runs and I was going to take advantage of the conditions. The conditions were so runner friendly, I probably could have run a complete marathon. Meanwhile, up in NYC, training buddy John ran his 20 miler in Central Park with temperature in the 30s. Perhaps a little too cold, but he got it done.

So, we are down to a century ride this weekend and our "13.1 + 7 = 20" race in South Beach on Halloween morning. After that, it's time to start the taper down to 11/22/09 go time. Plenty left to do, particularly in the swim department. At least for me. I'd like to get some long swims in with the full wet suit on. It's been too warm in the water to do that prior to now. Hopefully, the cool weather will continue for a while.

Finally, I attach a picture of the new ride. This is for Jen, who has repeatedly requested that I do my civic duty and post a picture. Perhaps she will want a closer look and join in for the northern portion of our century ride this Saturday.

Mo' Money

2009-10-14T19:31:00.010-04:00

I never saw the 1992 Damon Wayans' comedy "Mo' Money" but I remember the commercial with Mr. Wayans repeating the tag line "Mo' money, mo' money, mo' money." That's how I'm starting to feel about this whole ironman thing. It seems that every time I turn around, I'm shelling out mo' money to feed this monster.

Let's step back to about a year ago when we signed up for this thing. Five Hundred and Fifty smackers for the privilege of getting to beat the crap out of myself in a full ironman. Wow! I remember when the New York Road Runners Club upped the registration fee to run the NYC Marathon to $135.00. I was outraged. Most marathon registration fees were in the $90 to $100 range. How dare they jack up the NYC fees to $135.00, I protested. What a naive pre-triathlete I was then. How darling, how cute, how cheap! Now, I feel like its a bargain when I'm only paying $200 to $300 for an Olympic or HIM distance event. Marathon registration fees? What a deal!

OK, enough of registration fee bashing. I'm sure there are a lot of costs associated with putting on an Ironman event. Permits, safety boats, transition area set up equipment, support tables along the course, costs of hiring off duty cops to keep the course open and safe. I can see where it gets expensive to run these events. Besides, they have to raise money for to give those cash prizes to the professionals. OK, I have to admit it. It still seems like a boatload of money. If I was an investor, I'd be looking for an audit. Where the heck is all this money going?

But I labor the point. I look at the registration fee as money spent long ago. Its the money I keep shelling out recently that bring to mind Mr. Wayans' "Mo' money" refrain. I have a perfectly good sleeveless wet suit that I intended to use for IMAZ. When buddy John got the report back for his buddy Carl Rosen about just how cold the water was in Tempe, I decided I better pony up the extra bucks for a full sleeved wet suit. While I was at the tri store, I decided to replace my old bike helmet for a new one. OK, so $300 later, I feel I'm ready to roll.

The next weekend I did roll...over the top of a 89 year old lady's Cadillac. My bike was totalled. As I'm sitting on the ground, I realize I need to buy a new bike. I must say, I love my new Cervelo P2 tri bike. With assorted water bottle holders, lights and another new helmet, I'm out around $3,700. Fortunately, I should get this back from my old lady's insurance company. (I never thought I would ever be able to use the term "My Old Lady" and not feel like it was sexist.) Again, I'm shelling out money, but its not bothering me yet. $250 round trip flight booked and paid for: check. Hotel reservations: check. Oh, the family wants to come out to Arizona too. That's 3 more flights. OK, we should be done.

Nope. After confirming that the Miami bike shop that will act as the drop off store for Tri Bike Transport is still up and running, John & I book our bike shipping fees. Cost of shipping: $275. Cost of transporting your gear bag: another $25. After insurance and processing fees, I'm into Active.com for about $320.00. Ouch! It cheaper to send me out to Arizona than to send my bike and gear bag. Well, maybe about the same after the airlines hit me up with those baggage fees; however, those charges are not on my radar yet. Baggage fees, car, hotel and meal costs are off in the future.

I decide to get some new nutrition supplies, some goos and an upgraded set of swim goggles. Mo' money. John was coaxed into signing up for a half marathon at the end of the month in Miami Beach by an woman runner friend. We have a 20 miler scheduled for that day, but John figures we can run the half and add 7 miles to our run after crossing the finish line. John signed up and kind of pushes me into signing onto his somewhat goofy "13.1 + 7 = 20" plan. I give in, sign up, and fork over another $92 bucks to Active.com. Mo' money!

Oh, I almost forgot, The Clermont HIM was done as preparation for the full IM. That was another $175. The hotel stay in Clermont: $135. The organized ride and hotel in Clermont 2 week before the HIM: $25 and $90. Mo' money, mo' money, mo money! This doesn't even get into the occasional new tri shirt or shorts, new tri bike shoes, goos and assorted nutrition purchases over the year building up to this event.

I now know why people try to get better and turn professional at this sport. Its not for the glory of winning or placing in these events. Its not to show who is the most fit, can log the most training, or can endure the most pain. Its to get a sponsor who will pay your entry fees, hotels, and various equipment and transportation costs. Its either go pro or go broke.

For me, I don't want to add up these costs for a total. It would scare me. What I do know is that if I had any inkling of what this whole venture would end up costing me, I don't think I would have signed up for it in the first place. I also know there are no money back guarantees on an ironman event. I'm all in. I vow to keep diligently working on the training. Its the only way I've got a chance to finish and get a return on my investment.

In training news, I did a 25 mile/5K bike/run brick this morning. I needed it to re-establish my self respect after Tuesday's anemic 30 minute open water semi-synchronized bobbing routine. I need calmer seas for a proper long swim. Choppy open water does not allow me to focus on my technique. This weekend, I'll be in Gainesville for UF's homecoming. A cold front is supposed to come through the area, bringing lows into the low 50s/upper 40s. I'm bringing my running gear and plan on getting in a 20 mile training run.

And the Heat Just Keeps on Coming!

2009-10-12T21:49:00.008-04:00

When John & I signed up for the Arizona Ironman last November, we figured that we would get to do our long runs and rides during the month of October. We expected the Summer heat to have dissipated and cool mornings greeting us as we logged our longest runs and rides. We figured the water temperatures would cool enough to allow us to start practicing our open water swims with the full wetsuits we know we will need for the cold river water in Tempe in November. The weather gods have not cooperated.

We hear from our friends getting ready to run the Chicago Marathon how its literally freezing in Chicago. Meanwhile, we continue with a solid week of record breaking hot days the entire week. I end up cutting my long run Thursday morning somewhat short to a 12 miler due to the heat and my dehydration. Saturday morning, I go to the beach for a planned 2 hours open what swim, but am greeted with rough seas. I return home, do a 10K on the treadmill and go watch my son's soccer game at 10:30 AM in a heat that wilts the young soccer players.

Saturday afternoon, John & I travel to Miami to verify that the local bike shop that Tri Bike Transport uses is still in existence. The shop has changed hands, their web site is not active and the phone number is disconnected. When we get finally get to the shop located in Coral Gables, we are pleased to find the shop indeed is still in business and the staff well informed about the whole bike transport situation. We are not so lucky at the triathlon store, Tri Village, located even further south. John wants a new full wetsuit, but we show up just at the 5 PM closing time. While I'm able to buy some new goggles and some nutrition supplies, the clerk is unwilling to spend the time it would take for John to try on a wet suit. The guy must of had a hot date planned, because he is unwilling to give us the extra time it would take to try and buy a wetsuit. John is not pleased with this lack of customer service. He will not be purchasing a wet suit from Tri Village. Given that we drove down from Fort Lauderdale to southern Maimi-Dade County, I concur with his decision.

As I scope out the Sunday morning weather, I see it will be another in the string of hot days reaching into the mid to upper 90s by 10 AM. I make several calls to fellow riders, but get no takers to my offer to join me in my century ride. John decides he will do his 2 hour swim Sunday morning and his long ride on Columbus Day. Having my own business, I don't feel I can kill half a day on Monday and stick to my plan to ride Sunday.

I start off with 3 other riders, but they all decide to cut the ride short. At about the 20 mile mark, 2 of our group turns back. At mile 25, Tony turns. He is in taper mode for his half ironman in Austin in 2 weeks. I can't blame him. I find a group of 3 other aerobarred tri riders and get a little more of a group ride. But by mile 35, no one is going further north to Palm Beach. I'm on my own. As Tony said before he turned at 25: "Trianing for a full ironman is a lonely pursuit."

I had never made the ride all the way up A1a from Fort Lauderdale to the end of Palm Beach. Its actually a very pretty ride along the Ocean in Palm Beach with patches of shade trees along the way. However, there are also long stretches of open exposed roadway with the sun beating hotter and hotter as the morning progresses. I miss the Texaco gas station my trainer Penn told me about. Fortunately, I have a third water bottle on board and can make it back to another refueling stop. As I work me way back south, I note that there are fewer and fewer bicyclist on the road. Its just too hot to be doing a very long ride and all the smart riders are near the end of their rides or already home. Only an idiot would go on a century ride on a record breaking hot day. That would be me.

I keep working the fluids and nutrition and think that perhaps this is good training for Arizona. Who knows, it might be this hot in Tempe during my the ride portion during the middle of the day. As the miles progress and the temperatures continue to rise, I decide that this is not such a great concept. With every traffic light I have to stop at, I squirt my helmet and head with some water. I'm no longer concerned about heat conditioning as I am about heat exhaustion. I get toward the end of my ride and start to think that I could possibly pass out from this heat. Its near high noon. I decide to cut me ride a bit short and shave 6 miles from the century mark. I finish up at 94 miles and pull into my garage. I go directly upstairs into my bathroom, peal off my riding jersey and shorts and turn on the shower, making sure to keep the water cold. The rest of the day, I keep drinking water. I take a leak once.

Meanwhile, John did his 2 hours open water swim that morning starting about 7 AM. He reports back that the water felt warm. It was clearly too warm to even think about trying out a wet suit. As he planned, this morning he did his century and found it to be similarly hot, hot, hot. At one stop light on his return portion of his ride, he tapped on a drivers window. When the guy opened his window, John asked, "Can you share some of that air conditioning, buddy. Its really hot out here."

The seas were too rough again for me to attempt my 2 hours swim. I also feel like I needed a day to recover from the body slam the heat delivered to me on Sunday. I'll watch the conditions and give it a go in the next day or so.

Speaking of the Chicago Marathon, friend Miranda Jamieson ran a 3:33:42 in Chicago on Sunday in 30 degree temperatures. That's a Boston Qualifier. Way to go, Miranda! By the way, if you could bring some of that cold weather back with you, I'd really appreciate it.

Your Current Weather

2009-10-07T14:58:00.010-04:00

Partly Cloudy

89°F
Feels Like
100°F

As I check the local forecast on the Weather Channel web site, this is the reading with which I'm greeted. I'm checking to see what it will look like for a long evening run. Let's just say, it does not look promising.

Its October, the time of year that things start to cool off. As David Letterman said last night, "I was walking through Central Park this morning. Its getting kind of cool out. It was so cool, I noticed a squirrel had frost on his nuts." Well, down here in sunny Fort Lauderdale, I can assure you there is no frost. We are in the midst of an early Indian Summer or late Dog Days of summer. Its hot! I'm not looking forward to a long run in this sauna. I'm training for Arizona in November, not the Badwater Ultra-marathon in July.

When I check the hour by hour forecast for the early morning, it gets all the way down to 79 at 6 AM. It will feel like 86, but it will at least technically be below 80. Yeah! While I can manage bike rides in these conditions with a bit of a self generated breeze, running is another story. Not that I look forward to my weekend century ride that will take me near the noon hour. Last night, buddy John & I got together for a night pool swim at 9:15 PM. It was still fairly hot and humid at that hour. The water was the only escape from the mug. When your choice is between 78% humidity and 100% humidity (the pool), you choose 100%.

John has a trip to New York City planned for next weekend. He plans to run a 20 miler in Central Park. Earlier, I was critical of his planning a trip out of town during this peak training period. Now, he's looking like a genius. Enjoy the run in the cool northeastern weather John, but watch out for those squirrels.

Running Out of Time

2009-10-05T12:34:00.012-04:00

The new fall television lineup has been playing for a few weeks now. I have no idea what new shows are worth watching or what is happening on shows I used to watch. With the constant demand that ironman training puts on me and the need to turn in somewhat early for bed to get enough recovery sleep, I have no time for regular television viewing. I tried to use TiVo to keep up with late night shows I tried to keep up with, like Saturday Night Live, The Daily Show and The Colbert Report, but after a while, I realized I was just filling up the hard drive and not getting a chance to watch much of these programs during the summer months. I was able to keep up with Rescue Me and Entourage on a delayed viewing basis, but that was during the summer when the ironman deadline was further away...and scheduling that viewing time was a bit of a chore.

Now that we are into the fall, with youth soccer and college and pro football, there is just no time for downtime. I've got several good books I'm in the midst of reading, but reading time is hard to find. By the way, even though I'm not even half through it, I can recommend Born to Run by Christopher McDougall. It the story of a reporter who travels to Mexico’s Copper Canyon region to explore the running habits of the Tarahumara Indians, arguably the greatest distance runners in the world. My stack of unread books gets larger as I tend to only consult triathlon training books and get a glimpse of the morning paper. My Wall Street Journals and Barron's issues go largely unread. I image time to do blog entries will get harder to find.

Getting out to see a movie? Dream on. I'd love to see Matt Damon's new film, "The Informant," or Ricky Gervais' "The Invention of Lying," but the best I can manage was to take my young son Alex to see "Cloudy with a Chance of Meatballs." Kids movies are always good for a little recovery nap. I do manage to squeeze in a college or pro football game, but its usually background noise to doing other home tasks. No sitting down and actually watching a full game. Who has the time?

On Saturday, I drove back to Ft. Lauderdale from a seminar in Tampa to have my wife announce that we were scheduled at the last minute to go to a friend's house for a French themed dinner and a showing of the couple's summer trip to Paris. Since Salome & I are going to Paris in April for the marathon, I wanted to attend to discuss Paris. However, our son John was in town from Gainesville and we wanted to do dinner with him. So, we agreed to attend at 8:30ish and catch the slide show presentation. We arrive to find the dinner party was only on the soup course of a several course French dinner. While I love long dinners with wine, by 10 PM, I realize this party is going on to the wee hours of the morning and I've got a 6AM bike ride scheduled. We excuse ourselves and I get home to bed by 10:45PM.

The 70 mile bike ride Sunday morning was a great ride with a couple of the stronger riders in my circle of riding buddies pushing me through my paces. But the point is that its getting hard to fit in both a social life and triathlon training during this crunch month of October. I just got off the phone with buddy John to try to coordinate some long runs, rides and swims. With both of our busy schedules, its getting harder to do joint workouts. We alternatively refer to our training partner status as "VTB" (Virtual Training Buddy) or "ATB" (Actual Training Buddy). It looks like there will be more VTB workouts in the coming weeks.

As we discussed the need to schedule century rides, 2 hours open water swims and 20 mile training runs, John mentions that he can't wait for Thanksgiving when the AZIM will be behind us. I respond that in December, I plan to do nothing but go to holiday parties and catch up on my reading. I'll think about returning to working out after I recover from New Year's Eve.

So, when it comes to ironman training, there is normal life and ironman life. I feel a bit like Gene Wilder in Young Frankenstein as he asks Marty Feldman what brain he took for the Frankenstein monster. "Whose brain did you get?" "Abby something." "Abby who?" "Abby Normal." Yes, for these last 2 months before IMAZ, you can call me Abby Normal. I'll be exercising a lot and sleeping when I can. I'll hope to keep up on work and my son's soccer games. Other than that, I'll have little idea what's going on in the news and not a clue about what's hip culturally. Someone take note and send me a nice Christmas letter to get me back up to speed.

Impulsive Registrations: Miami 70.3 on 10/30/10

2009-10-01T11:00:00.008-04:00

You may be right, I may be crazy.
But it just may be a lunatic you're looking for.
Turn out the light, Don't try to save me.
You may be wrong for all I know,
But you may be right. You May Be Right -Billy Joel

I have always been a proud South Floridian. While I live in Fort Lauderdale, one of my favorite Marathons/Half-Marathons is the Miami Marathon in late January. When the course was announced in the fall of 2002, I signed up for it immediately due primarily to the beauty of the course. Starting off next to the cruise ships along the Macarthur Causeway, a run through South Beach, back through downtown Miami into Coconut Grove, and finally a run back to the finish along palm tree lined Brickle Avenue, I knew this would be the most picturesque marathon in Florida. I've run either the full or the half each year of this race's existence and recommend the race to any of my running friends looking to escape the winter cold and see a beautiful Miami course.

Now the people who choose the locations for the Ford Ironman 70.3 Series have chosen a half ironman course in Miami that takes into account much of the beauty that is the Miami Marathon. So, even though I have yet to complete the AZIM, I've already signed up for a half ironman over a year from now. I suppose its a little crazy or an act of faith, but I don't want to miss this event. I'm in.

Here is a description of the course from the web site for any of you blogging buddies or Facebook friends that might be interested in the event. I love company and have room at the house for some out of town guests. Register now if interested as these events close out fast. First come, first booked at Casa de Paradise. You may click here or on this blog title to take you to the web site.

SWIM- Participants will swim 1.2 miles (1.9 km), which will be held in the protected waters of Miami Florida. Spectators and athletes will have a great view of Watson Island and The Port of Miami at the beginning of this race. Water temperatures are expected to be between 76-78 degrees (24-26° C). The transition between the swim and bike will take place at the beautiful Bicentennial Park.

BIKE- The majority of the 56-mile bike course encompasses the quiet, scenic communities of Miami. The athletes will head north to Watson Island making a loop heading back south to Homestead. During this ride, the athletes will pass great architecture work consisting of classic and modern mansions as well as a mini tour of the Mediterranean Style City of Coral Gables, Coconut Grove, and Pinecrest.

RUN- The running course takes athletes on a 13.1 miles (21 km) run alongside the waters of Miami. As the runners make their way through this course, they will experience one of the most popular and beautiful ports around the world; Port of Miami. This is where most of the cruise lines depart to make their way to their destination points. On the opposite side, there will be the gorgeous Watson and Star Island. The course will consist of a two loops with the U-turn at Macarthur Causeway.

The Intimidator - Clermont Half Ironman Report

2009-09-28T17:12:00.008-04:00

Someone told me long ago, there's a calm before the storm. I know; its been comin' for some time. When its over, so they say, it'll rain a sunny day. I know; shinin' down like water. I want to know, have you ever seen the rain? I want to know, have you ever seen the rain? Comin down on a sunny day? Have You Ever Seen the Rain? Creedence Clearwater Revival

The Clermont Half Ironman, called "The Intimidator" by its organizers was a gut check on John and my training to date as we gear up for the full ironman in Arizona in late November. The event turned out to be both intimidating and a gut check on our training.

John had a golf outing with some friends in North Carolina on Friday, so had dropped off his bike and gear bag for me to drive up from Fort Lauderdale. I arranged to pick him up at the Orlando airport around noon on Saturday for the short drive north to Clermont. We checked into our hotel and headed over to the race site to get our numbers and meet up with friends Keith Seago and Jay Greely who were teaming up to do the event as a relay. Keith was scheduled to do the run, Jay was scheduled for the bike and a third buddy, Paul was scheduled for the swim. Unfortunately, Paul had to cancel, so Keith decided to also do the swim.

The days immediately preceding the event were some pretty hot days in Florida. Saturday was no different. I had planned to either ride a portion of the bike course or drive in Saturday afternoon having missed the bike ride 2 weeks prior due forces beyond my control (see my entry on "Life's Curve Balls"). It was so hot, however, that I quickly decided against any pre-race course preview. I wanted to get indoors and out of the heat to avoid any unnecessary dehydration. We spent the afternoon getting our gear ready for the next day and reviewing nutrition and hydration strategies. John, Jay, Keith and I had an early pasta dinner and turned in early.

With the event teed up as a check on our progress, neither John nor I got too worked up about the event. It was viewed more as a training event. In fact, John, knowing my tendency to go out too hard in a race, told me my mantra for the event was: "Pacing, not racing." Thus, race morning, we calmly went through our routines of setting up our gear and bike stations. On my way to drop off my bike, I came across a couple that had seen the car hit me 2 weeks earlier. "Hey, its the guy who got hit by the car," the guy says. "Yes, its me," I reply, "Glad just to be here."

The Swim

As we await the swim start at the edge of Lake Minneola, John says, "I was calm until now. Now, I've got butterflies." "Me too," I say, "I always get them just before the start." Someone points out that the lake has alligators and they only allow swimming in the lake for the triathlons. An interesting fact. I don't know they figure all the activity of a large group of swimmers keeps the alligators away or they just don't give it consideration. Before we know it, the starters have counted down the first group and then our second group. We begin our 1.2 mile swim.

The lake water seems clean, but is murky as mud. If an alligator was in the vicinity, I wouldn't see it until it was too late. In any event, I try to get into a rhythm and avoid the usual bumping and path crossing that typifies a mass swim. Our friend Keith is swimming in the next group wearing green caps. My strategy is to get to the first of 2 turn buoys before any green capped swimmers overtake me. I make the turn and meet that target. However, by the second buoy turn, the faster of the green caps start overtaking me. I manage to get out of the water in 54 minutes, 4 minutes slower than I expected. I'm guessing that the additional time was due to course corrections or a slight current. Keith & John also take longer than expected, so I don't feel too bad about the extra time.

The Bike

At transition, I take some extra time to put on socks with my riding shoes. I also put bike shorts on over my tri shorts figuring the extra padding will be nice for 56, but even better for the 112 on the full ironman. I want to test this new configuration. As I begin my ride, I find the extra shorts to be no problem. In fact they were so comfortable, I forgot to take the riding pants off for the run and completed the race wearing them over my tri shorts.

The bike course is hilly enough that I'm OK with missing the ride 2 weeks prior. If I had done it, I may not have come back. This is a challenging ride with a series of hills. As John said, the extra speed you make on the downhills doesn't quite even out with the extra work on the climbs. Overall, I'm liking the new tri bike and the areo position. However, about 20 miles in, a guy in a black Camaro passes me and pulls over to the side of the road just ahead of me. He is taking up the bike lane and part of the road. To make things worse, the guy swings open his drivers side door to take care of some business. I can't believe this. After having gotten hit by a 89 year old lady who is late for church, I'm about to plow into a guy dressed in black in a black Camaro. Its like God was trying to take me out 2 weeks ago and now the devil wants a shot too. I swing wide and wonder what else Clermont has in store for me.

The bike course includes a hill called Sugarloaf Mountain that has a reputation for being the hardest climb. After going up a series of hills, I wonder if I've already done Sugarloaf Mountain. Then, I make a turn and see it. No mistaking it. A very long uphill climb. I give it what I can, but I don't do much hill climbing. As I get about 3/4ths of the way up the climb, I realize I'm in the lowest (easiest) gears and I've run out of gears. I'm out of the saddle and slowing. I realize I risk coming to a complete stop and falling, so I swallow my pride and dismount. Fortunately, this humiliation only lasts about 20 yards before I remount and finish the climb.

The rest of the ride is fairly uneventful except that at one point on the course, they still have the markings from the ride 2 weeks earlier. As you look down there are three directions. On the left, the is an indication to turn left the has a label stating "1st lap", in the middle a slightly brighter arrow pointing straight ahead, and on the right, a right arrow with the label "2nd lap." I see a rider up the road straight ahead and decide to follow the slightly brighter arrow pointing straight ahead. Coming up behind me, buddy John is not so fortunate. He gets confused and takes a wrong turn. The road does take him back to the course after adding an additional 5 and 1/2 miles to his ride, doing 61.5 miles compared to my 56 mile ride.

At about the 45 mile point on in, I'm kind of tired of the hills and am thinking that I want to be done with the ride and on the run. Its only my second long ride in the tri bike position and I haven't quit worked up the neck and quad muscles to be comfortable on too long of a ride. As I come towards the end of the bike ride, I note that storm clouds are gathering overhead.

Run Through Hell (If Hell was full of rain and thunder)

After racking my bike and changing over to running shoes, I head out of the transition area. I see buddy Keith coming in the other direction. Since the run course is 2 loops of an out and back course covering just under 3.3 miles, I don't know if he is finishing or half way through his run. As I approach the first water stop about a mile in, the rain is falling so hard, I have to remove my sunglasses as they are more a slighting hazard than a help. A few steps later, I feel the cold flow of the cup of water Keith pours over my neck and back. "You'll thank me for that later," he says as he goes by. I realize that Keith has to run his second lap, so I feel pretty good about my progress.

I make my way out to the turn around point and start back. At about the 5 mile mark, I come across John as he crosses the 2 mile marker. He thinks that the course is a one loop out and back and that I'm at mile 11. As we pass each other I say, "Pacing it, not racing it." He thinks I'm running super strong and am rubbing the mantra in his face. In reality, I am just trying to run a nice even pace to finish up this first lap.

As I start on my second lap, my quads that got extra work on the tri bike, now let me know that they are not happy with me. They start twitching on me that lets me know that soon they will be cramping up on me. I start throwing in walk breaks to forestall a total lock up. To add to the excitement, the rain starts coming down in buckets. Its coming down so hard that the run path is covered in flowing water trying to drain off these rolling hills. My quads don't care and don't seem to be helped by the cooler temperatures of the rain. I am now soaked and semi hobbled. I think back on my hydration and nutrition throughout the bike and run and can find no flaws. I think about my pacing on the bike and run. The bike was clearly more work than I am used to doing, but I did try to keep it in a safe mode. No, I think, perhaps my 50 year old body is just not up to exercising for over 6 hours at a shot. Maybe these long triathlons are just beyond what my body can handle. Whatever the issue, I am determined to finish this event if I have to walk it in.

I begin to fear that buddy John will catch me before the finish. I assure myself that this will mean a long ride home in which he lectures me on proper pacing and nutrition. Not a conversation I look forward to hearing. So, I carry on with a run/shuffle and walking when I start to cramp. I make it to the 9.9 mile turn around without John catching up with me. However, as I head back for the final leg of the 13.1 mile run, we cross paths for the last time. John now realizes that he is closing in on me. I have 3 miles to try and hold him off. The rain takes no note. After clearing and heating up the course to a muggy slog, a new storm comes racing across the sky. This time there is lightning accompanied by very close and and very loud, hand of an angry Old Testament God, thunder. Its at this point that I tell the guy running near me that this area of Florida is the lightning capital of the world. People get struck and killed by lightning in these parts. Another very loud crack of thunder comes down from above. I'm beginning to doubt that the Lord wants me to do triathlons in the Clermont area.

The rain again lets up, but its of little matter. The run course is now a river of water soaking our shoes to the point of slowing us runners even more. To add to the fun, the water stops at each mile have run out of water. Its Gatoraide or Coke. Ok, if that's what your stomach wants at this point, but mine wants water. As I come to the 12 mile mark, my right hamstring muscle decides that it too will cramp. I am stopped dead in my tracks. I look behind me as I try to message the camps out of my legs. No sign of John. I start to walk and am able to get a slow jog going again. As I come to the finish, I think to myself that if my buddy John catches and passes me now, there is no justice. I manage to cross the finish line in 7:02. Not a time I am proud of, but one I will accept with several lessons of additional training needed before November 22nd.

As I talk to some other competitors just past the finish line, buddy John comes in about 54 seconds behind me. We congratulate each other and get some water. John starts telling me about his extra miles on the bike. I decide that its his problem. I officially crossed the finish line first and will not have to be lectured to by him. On a very tough day, its the only victory I've got. On the other hand, Keith and Jay took 1st place in the relay division. Jay joked to John that they had a special award for those participants that rode 61 miles.

Post Race

Clearly, if John hadn't added the extra miles, he would have finished about 20 minutes or so before me. However, he too was having the same questions on the course about his ability to double what we did in this half ironman in about 2 months. He starts to use hedging phrases about doing the ironman, but I tell him that you can never think about an endurance event immediately after a tough course like the one we just completed. "Its like asking a woman if she wants to have more children just after she delivers a baby. Its a bad time to think about such things."

As we sit in a picnic shed eating our burgers and hot dogs, the winds kick up really good and the rain starts coming down horizontally. The course finish area starts to break apart and get blown down. The two of us and several other finishers and family supporters also take shelter. As we watch the finish area slowly deteriorate, we note other competitors coming up to the finish line. We all start cheering and clapping for these competitors that are truly getting the worst of it. The least we can do is give them an ovation. With each new finisher, the clapping and cheering gets louder and longer. These triathletes deserve our appreciation and we are happy to oblige.

After the rains die down for the last time, we collect our thoroughly soaked gear bags and walk our bikes back to our vehicle. Along the way, we talk with a triathlete from Miami who has done the Arizona Ironman. He tells us that compared to the course we did today, Arizona will seem easy. We take some solace from his kind words, but realize we have our work cut out for us.

We return to the finish area to be the last people to get messages. We figured we earned this reward. By the time we get back to our hotel, we are hours past the late checkout time and decide to spend a second night in Clermont. We had planned to clean our gear back at the hotel, but its all such a wet mess, we decide to just leave it where it is and put our luggage around it where we can. We shower, relax a little, then go out for celebratory dinner at Chili's with margaritas to lubricate the festivities. We make small talk with the wait staff and discuss the hard work ahead. Its time to step up the training.

Running in the Heat

2009-09-23T07:40:00.005-04:00

This last Sunday was the running of the Berlin Marathon, one of the 5 World Marathon Majors. The World Marathon Majors is a championship-style competition amongst the elite marathoners. It is comprised of the five most prestigious marathons in the world: Boston, London, Berlin, Chicago, and New York City. John & I ran Berlin last year. It was special in part because the world record holder in the marathon, Haile Gebrselassie (Geb), of Ethiopia, broke his own world record set the year before at the prior year's Berlin Marathon. Because he had set the world record the prior year, his image was on the finisher's medal for the race. So, when he reset the world record last year at 2:03:59, it was an amazing race to have participated in. Click here to read my Berlin Marathon race report. As my friend Linda Mueller said in a post to me this week, its amazing that the year since we ran Berlin has gone by so quick.

This year, Geb, at age 36, was up against the second fastest marathon runner ever, Duncan Kibet, a 30 year old Kenyan runner whose P.R. of 2.04.27, set last fall in Rotterdam, is just one second slower than the time that Geb himself ran in Berlin two years ago. Thus, expectations were high for a world record breaking race between the #1 and #2 marathon runners in the world. But like most great expectations of an epic marathon race, the competition between these 2 great runners didn't last past the half marathon mark. No new world record was set. What happened? It got hot in Berlin on Sunday. Kibet fell out of contention before the half marathon mark. While Geb maintained world record breaking pace through the 30K mark (18.6 miles), he slowed for the last 7.6 miles to come in at 2:06:08. I can relate.

Don't get me wrong. I couldn't run one mile at the pace that Geb averages for the entire 26.2 miles. But I can relate to the heat sucking the life out of me in the last 12K of a marathon. For a refresher of when the heat has ruined a good race for me, see my entry on the Seattle Marathon. The heat over the last 4 miles of unprotected, sun exposed highway made my race go from ecstasy to agony.

On Tuesday's Runner's World website, Amby Burfoot did an analysis of the impact of heat on marathon race times. Apparently, sports scientists have studied the impact of heat on marathon times and have concluded what most marathoners could probably tell you: the best temperature for a good marathon run is in the low 50s. Amby then extrapolates from these studies to come up with the following formula: your marathon time is likely to slow by three percent for every 10 degree rise in temperature from 50 F. In other words, you'll run 3 percent slower at 60 F, 6 percent slower at 70 F, 9 percent slower at 80 F, and so on.

What I can add to those cold, or should I say "hot" statistics, is that when it gets hot, bad things happen to me. Like cramping. My body loves to run in cool weather. It does not like the heat. Being of Northern European ancestry, my body does not adjust well to running in heat. Why do I live in South Florida? Because its lovely down here. I live near the ocean and enjoy nice sea breezes, enjoy the ocean, and love open water swimming in the warm Caribbean currents. But running here in the Summer and the early fall...how shall I put this?....sucks! We get up and out the door an hour or two before sunrise, and it can still be hot and muggy. A bike ride that lasts beyond 9:45 AM gets uncomfortable.

Why do I bring this up? In part because it gives me a little solace to know that the heat can slow down even an East African great like Geb. If any bodies have evolved to deal with heat running, its the Ethiopians and Kenyans. But even these great runners are slowed by the heat. Oh, yeah, there's another reason I bring it up. I hear that the run portion of the Clermont HIM that John & I are doing this Sunday is hot. Very hot. I can't wait. Let's not even think about the afternoon temperatures in Tempe in November. Here's hoping they have ice at the water stations.

Finally, in honor of my son John, a proud member of the University of Florida Marching Gator Band, I link in this ESPN commercial featuring that fine band.

Life's Curve Balls

2009-09-20T14:26:00.006-04:00

Sometimes life throws you a curve ball. You adjust your stance and take another swing. Well, I've had several Major League curve balls hurled at me the last couple of weeks and I'm playing in the National League. No designated hitters allowed. You stand in there and hope you don't get beaned in the head by a stray pitch.

First off, two weekends ago a high school buddy living nearby, dies of a heart attack while out for a Saturday morning run. I had lost touch with him since high school and had no idea he lived in the area. In searching out funeral information, I find many of his race results. His times are very similar to mine. Why this guy is out for a run and dies of a heart attack and I don't, I'll never be sure. I drafted and posted a full blog entry on this incident last week, but decided to pulled it down.

Then this last weekend, we head up to Gainesville to attend Band Parent's Day with the our son John, who is a freshman at UF and plays trombone. A nice event and a nice return to visit some old friends and my old college. Luckily John is able to swing an extra football ticket for his younger brother Alex. After the game, we drive south to Clermont, Florida so I can ride the 56 mile bike course that will be part of the Clermont Half Ironman that I plan to do next weekend.

Sunday morning, buddy John, I and four other friends begin riding the course. Only .8 of a mile into the course, I am leading our group of six down a road. On the other side of the road facing us is a 1989 Cadillac being driven by an 89 year old woman who is late for church. She has no turn signal on as we approach. She sees our group and decides that she will turn before we get to her. Unfortunately, by the time she decides to turn, I am already in that part of the road she will be turning through. I have no out. I turn right and shout "Look out!" to no avail. The woman either is not aware she is about to hit me or is too slow to react. Her bumper hit my leg 4 inches above the ankle, my hip slams into her hood followed by my shoulder, and my head hits her windshield. The driver makes no effort to stop or slow. She completes her turn as I fall off the side of her car and find myself sitting in the road. The driver goes about 2 car lengths from me before she makes an effort to stop.

As I sit looking at my swollen leg, I fear it is broken. My head is buzzing from the concussion I received from hitting the windshield. The woman asks my friends if she can leave as she is late for church. One of our riders tells the woman that since she nearly killed a bicyclist, that perhaps the lord will understand if she is late for church. As I sit on the ground in a daze I think, "Well, there goes the Half Ironman in two weeks." Buddy John sticks his head in about this time and says, "Don't think that you're getting out of the Half Ironman in two weeks." A very funny guy.

Once the paramedics are on the scene and offer to move me from the middle of the road, I try out the left leg to find it fortunately unbroken. Other than a concussion, a swollen leg and major road rash, I think I'm in one piece. I end up declining an ambulance ride as my wife is 5 miles away at a hotel and would have no way to get to me since I have our SUV at the ride start. The long and short of it is that my bike was totalled, but I am not. I am extremely lucky. Realizing my friends are all waiting around, I encourage them to continue the ride. Before they start off again, one of them says "Smile" and snaps the below picture of me. I look better than I feel. That's an ice pack on my left shoulder and I'm turned away from the road rash.

Now, I was lucky in that I happen to have bought a new bike helmet a week before. The helmet is now split, but it did its job. It does make me realize that you can be a totally defensive bicyclist and still get taken out by a careless driver. My advise to all you riders and triathletes out there is that you should assume that a driver will do the wrong thing and hope and pray that you are not in their path. All in all, I feel extremely lucky that I went over the car instead of under it and that I wasn't thrown through the air like a rag doll.

Not wanting to let the situation overly spook me, I take my bike to my bike shop and have them confirm the fact that the bike is totalled. I decide to purchase a Cervello triathlon bike given that I've got this Half Ironman next weekend and the Arizona IM in late November. At this juncture, I hope to simply survive and complete the HIM and get fully back on track in time for November. I don't know how I'll feel riding past the scene of the accident next Sunday, but I'll be there.

Batter up!

Equipment Tweaks

2009-09-07T22:07:00.002-04:00

Buddy John has been on me about not riding with aerobars. I had tried them at St. Anthony's Triathlon, which is a pretty technical course with some of the roads made of bricks. Probably not the best course on which to judge aerobars. So, this weekend I finally did a 60 mile ride almost exclusively in the aerobar position. I actually found the position comfortable and pretty efficient. Thus, I give public thanks to John for bugging me to make the change.

On another equipment issue, John told me that his buddy Carl informed him that the water in Tempe is pretty cold and that a full wetsuit was advisable. About the same time, I received a couple of e-mails about wetsuit sales. You've got to love these end of tri season sales. I have a sleeveless wetsuit, but felt the need to go shopping this Labor Day weekend. On Saturday afternoon after my 13 mile long run, the wife & I drove down to South Miami to Tri Villiage. I ended up getting a pretty good deal on a full Orca wetsuit and Salome picked up a sleeveless for next year's early season tris. Salome has decided to step it up to the Olympic distance. We will probably do the Miami International Triathlon in March.

I was going to give the wetsuit a test run on Sunday morning, but the ocean was a little rougher than I like to subject myself to if I'm not in an actual competition. Thus, I bagged the swim and took my younger son Alex out for a pancake breakfast instead. We ended up having a very nice father/son day going to the Museum of Science and Discovery and just hanging out together. I only felt slightly guilty about missing a swim session.

While at Tri Village, I decided to get a new bike helmet as I've read helmets lose their effectiveness after a couple of years even if you don't go down and hit the thing. I got to put it to use on this morning's group ride. Based on Carl's recommendations, it looks like my last up grade will be some reflective goggles. Carl told John that the sun is pretty bright for the Arizona Ironman. Again, thanks to John for doing the research on the event and for pushing me to make some needed equipment tweaks.

Next weekend, we'll be in Gainesville for parent's day with the Fightin' Gator Marching Band. We not only get to sit in the stands with our son John, but he was able to swing a third ticket for his brother Alex. How cool is that? After the game, we will spend the night in Clermont. Sunday morning buddy John, I and a couple other friends will ride the 56 mile bike course that we will return to 2 weeks later as part of the Clermont HIM. I understand there are some hills, so it will be good to ride this course before the HIM.

Older, Wiser?

2009-09-02T12:24:00.001-04:00

There was an article published in the Personal Journal section of today's Wall Street Journal entitled "Older, Wiser, Slower" about avid athletes over 50 adjusting their exercise goals. The gist of the article is that as athletes age deeper into their 50s and later years, they need to shift focus away from trying to compete against other athletes and even their own PRs in order to live healthy athletic lives. The story gives examples of previously competitive marathon runners and ironman triathletes learning to do their events at a lower heart rate and stress level. It argues against the idea of doing increasingly more training in order to get better as we age. It can lead to increased injuries to stiffer joints, more rigid muscles and more hardened arteries.

It got me thinking about my buddy Wayne, he of the recent triple bypass operation (January). This "Comeback Kid" returned to the marathon distance in August. Wayne is in the second half of his 50s and has been an inspirational older brother to me in continuing to run marathons. But there is wisdom in the way Wayne has handled his marathons in the last couple of years. Wayne doesn't worry about his time. He runs the marathon at a pace that makes the journey an enjoyable one. Me? I inevitably try to push my pace seeking out the possibility of another BQ or PR. But I'm beginning to see the wisdom in Wayne's approach. I've run Boston enough times that I don't need to keep striving for that BQ. I'm not even sure how many more marathons I want to run. I've always told other runners that the half marathon is a better race than the full marathon. In training for the half marathon, you never have to do that 20 mile training run. Additionally, you don't go around the week after a half marathon sore and grumpy (so my wife tells me) in repairing muscle damage that the marathon distance causes.

Similarly, I'm finding that in training for the full ironman, that I probably prefer the half ironman. Not that I don't want to do get the full ironman under my belt, but I'm beginning to think of it more as a "Bucket List" item than something I want to do repeatedly. Its not that I have any idea what it will feel like to finish the ironman, its just that the training for the full ironman consumes a lot of your free time and the longer training required for the distance puts you into heat and dehydration. I've noticed the last several weeks on my long rides that in starting a ride at 6 AM it gets uncomfortably hot by about 9:45 AM. I still have the energy to ride, but I really start to feel the heat and it starts to suck the life out of you. Thus, I've decided that the ideal ride distance in South Florida is about 60 miles. If you are out by 6 AM, you are done by about 9:30 with breaks and stop lights. Too short for ironman training, but just right for a half.

The same goes for the run. Our friend Victor is training for the Marine Corps Marathon in late October. He was asking us what was causing him lower back pain during his 15 mile long runs. Buddy John asked me what was the obvious answer to Vic's question. As I'd also been feeling some lower back pain, I'd was thinking it was possibly from increasing my swimming distance or my bike time. "No, dummy," John says, "Its dehydration." Of course, as an attorney trained to never give up a point, I point to the other possibilities. But the jury has decided and I've been dismissed from the witness stand. Yes, this time of year in South Florida back pain from exercise is most likely a sign of not getting enough fluids. Running long in South Florida from June through September means there is a great likelihood of at least partial dehydraton issues.

I also get a report from John who talked to a buddy who has done the Clermont HIM in the past. We are doing this event at the end of this month. John reports back that his buddy Carl says to expect it to be hilly and hot. Very hot. Great. Carl also informs John that we need to start upping our distances on the bike, swim and run in our training to gear up for the full ironman now. Again, great. Here we were thinking that we were doing well in our training frequency and distances and now we are told to ramp it up. Not after the Clermont HIM at the end of September. Now!

So, here we are feeling a little behind the 8 ball again. I'm definitely older. I just don't know if I've gotten any wiser in my training.

We Can Make Him Better Than He Was Before

2009-08-26T22:33:00.002-04:00

"Gentlemen, we can rebuild him. We have the technology...We can make him better than he was before. Better, stronger, faster." Opening line from "The Six Million Dollar Man."

When I first committed to the "Wild and Crazy" venture of a full ironman, buddy Wayne Crayton kept saying: "You guys are going to be in the best shape of your life." Let me say that until recently, I had my doubts. I've trained for many marathons and shorter distance triathlons. I kind of felt that my body had reached a fitness plateau. If anything, having turned 50 in January, I kind of thought that I had probably gotten as far up the fitness plane as I was going to get. I figured I'd be lucky to simply maintain what fitness gains I had achieved over the years.

Well, I think Wayne might be right. The increased workload seems to be making a difference. I went from struggling at the 45 to 60 mile bike ride range to feeling pretty fresh after last weeks 70 mile ride. Yes, the 10 mile run the next morning got a little difficult at the end, but I chalk that up to heading out too late in the August heat and getting behind the hydration curve. On Monday, I was able to swim 2 miles in an hour and 5 minutes, something that was clearly beyond my capabilities not too long ago.

I'm sure improved technique has something to do with all this, but I think the overall fitness level does improve with the increased workload required for a full ironman. It just that until it actually starts happening to you, you wonder if you can get better.

I also have to give some credit to my trainer, Penn. Penn comes from a body building background and is a former body building champion from Europe. What makes Penn different from most guys with his background is that he went on to become a pretty good cyclist. He got leaner over the years so that he could be aerobically fit as well as muscularly fit. He is also always analyzing what works and what doesn't in fitness training. He provides athlete specific workouts for different sports activities Not just that, but he modifies my personal workouts depending on where I am in my triathlon training and events. I only work out with Penn once a week, but I think those workouts are a key element in my overall progress. Check out this You Tube video of Penn showing proper pull-up technique. Even though I can only do a couple of these killer pull-ups unassisted, Penn is part of making me better than I was before.

Buddy John questions my doing weight training during the build up to an ironman event, but I have to refer him to what has become our bible: "Going Long" by Joe Friel & Grodon Byrn. John quotes these guys chapter and verse. Bilateral breathing, frequency of training, focusing on technique and your limiters; I never hear the end of it. Well, in Chapter 9, starting at page 187, Apostles Joe & Gordon recommend once a week weight training. So I don't want to hear any more questioning about my weight training.

In any event, I've got no doubts that John is getting more fit. On our Olympic brick this evening he was strong on the bike and strong on the run. I don't know if it was the Red Bull he drank before the workout, or if he was just "on" tonight. I expect the later. I wasn't as strong as John tonight, but I feel pretty good after what previously was a pretty taxing workout that would leave me pretty tired. Let's just hope the progress continues.

"Looking good, Billy Ray!" "Looking good, Lewis!"

2009-08-24T21:33:00.004-04:00

The above exchange from "Trading Places" summarizes where John & I are in our training. We both had solid workouts during the week and had a very productive weekend. My long runs are in the 12 to 13 mile range and my last two long rides on consecutive Saturdays were of 60 and 70 miles. John rode 60 on Saturday, swam an hour Sunday and did a long run today. I did a 10 mile run on Sunday and a 2 mile open water swim this morning.

We are trying to read up on technique for each event from the book, "Going Long" by Joe Friel & Grodon Byrn. One of the main concepts we both seem to have gotten from the book is frequency of training for each discipline. I'm working on my kick for my swim, which seems to have done wonders for my distance in the open water.

One tricky spot in this August heat is making sure I get enough hydration, both during and after workouts. I seem to stay down in my fluids a bit and need to focus on rehydrating after a workout.

Yes, I know. A short boring entry about our workouts without much in the way of humorous insights. Sorry folks. With all the training, I don't have much energy left over for interesting insights. But we are happy with our progress and focus.

Trying to Reason with Hurricane Season

2009-08-18T12:44:00.016-04:00

Well, the wind is blowin' harder now, fifty knots of there abouts.
There's white caps on the ocean, and I'm watching for water spouts. "Trying to Reason with Hurricane Season" Jimmy Buffett

My son John was home this last week from his first summer semester at the University of Florida. He was scheduled to return to UF on Sunday morning for a week of marching band practice. Thus, a party was scheduled for about 150 of his friends at my house on Friday night. I didn't get to bed until 1 AM, playing the authority figure keeping things from going off the deep end. With a 60 mile ride scheduled for Saturday morning, my 5:15 AM wake up alarm left me with short sleep. Of course, with my son and his fraternity brothers staying in the pool at the after-party throughout the night, even that sleep was not a sound one.

As I get my water bottles filled and start applying sun tan lotion, I start to hear water running. I come out of the bathroom fully lotioned and ready to go, I realize its pouring hard. I turn on the weather channel and call riding buddy Tony to discuss the situation. The rain is a cell from a tropical wave moving through the area. Tony tells me he's going back to bed. I sit and watch the radar on the Weather Channel and note that there doesn't appear to be another cell for a while. I decide to go out for a solo ride for as long as the weather permits. As I ride north along A1a, the street dries fairly quickly. There is a cross wind that is blowing, but not so bad as to effect my speed. I'm good until the turn around 30 miles out.

As I turn to head south, I realize that cross wind was a little more of a wind out of the SE, which is now kind of in my face. Its not too bad for the first 10 miles of the return, but the wind starts gusting increasingly strong. My ability to ride at a steady speed is all but gone. The gusts blow me down to about 12 mph. Not only that, but the gusts make it hard to hold a steady line. But what's a rider to do? I see many small groups of riders pulled to the side of the road, but figure the front will be blowing through for several hours. So I ride on. It was real work getting home, but I got it done. I guess I can expect more of these conditions over the next month or so. It goes to show, its not just the rain you've got to worry about. Those winds blow a lot longer than the rain falls.

The other elements of training are going well. I've upped my overall workout load and have moved the long run to Wednesday evening. I got in 12 this last week and will probably stretch it to 14 this week. I'm working on my kick in my pool sessions, which were virtually non-existent in the past. My body is still adjusting to the higher work load. I'm also experimenting with different nutrition mixes to see what the body handles the best. Experienced IM buddy Miranda advises to separate hydration from nutrition by mixing the protein drink mix to a gue like consistency. I'll have to try this.

From an events standpoint, it looks like I'll have to scratch the Publix Sprint Tri in Miami on September 12th. Its the same weekend as parent's day with the band up at UF. I've got to support my son by watching a Gator game in the stands with the band. Twist my arm. Salome & I will have to bring the bikes for a ride to Micanope. Perhaps I'll squeeze in another sprint somewhere along the line before the Clermont HIM on September 27th. Yes, the "Upcoming Events" list is getting shorter, but harder.

With no athletic events on my personal schedule, I'm reduced to reporting on the exploits of my friends. On Sunday, when the winds let up a bit (but were still blowing), running buddy Jen Jones decided to do a sprint triathlon on Key Biscayne after a couple years hiatus from the tri scene. She did exceedingly well given the little swim and bike training she put in. Jen came in 4th in her age group based primarily on a killer run. I expect with a little more bike and swim training, Jen will start to compete for an age group win. As I told her, her Cervelo tri bike missed her. She had a blast doing it and I expect she is reinfected with the tri bug.

Finally, buddy Wayne Crayton surprised us all by completing the Humpy's Marathon in Anchorage, Alaska. As you may know, Wayne was coming back from a triple by-pass operation back in January. He had run a couple of 5Ks and 10K. He had announced he was doing the half marathon for Humpy's and had two 13 mile training runs under his belt. Well, the guy goes off and runs the full. He gave himself the option of cutting it at the half, but felt good at that point and decided to go the whole way. Not a personal best time, but he is back in the marathon saddle. I now consider his recovery complete and await his tempting e-mails and blog entries about his marathon tour of Europe planned for the Spring 2010. A couple of friends expressed interest in doing the Paris Marathon in early April, which is one of Wayne's planned Eurothons. Humm, this could be a nice coordinated group event. April in Paris anyone?

"In a week I'll be in gay Paris; that's a mighty long airplane ride."

More Training, Less Blogging

2009-08-10T11:55:00.002-04:00

For the last week, I've been thinking about my training schedule leading up to the Half IM in Clermont in on September 25th and the final push to the full IM in Arizona on November 22nd. This weekend I did a 10 mile run with our triathlon group followed by a 1.5 mile run to the ocean with wife Salome and a 20 minute open water swim. Sunday was a 45 mile bike ride with Salome. Later Sunday, I realized that I need to space out my long run and long ride from each other. It just tired me out to do them both on the same weekend.

Meanwhile, buddy John was at the Newport Jazz Festival in Newport, RI listening to the likes of Tony Bennett and the Dave Brubeck Quartet. Between sets, he was reading "Going Long" by Joe Friel and Gordon Byrn -- Training for Ironman-distance Triathlons. John's e-mail comment to me was as follows:

Holy cow Bill -- what have we gotten ourselves into! Seriously though, we both really need to get our training focused if we don't want to crash and burn in Arizona. I'd highly recommend that you pick up a copy of this book for yourself so you can mark it up and go back to it for regular reference. The major points that I'm picking up are that I have to improve the frequency and consistency of my workouts, identify and execute my "key" workouts, not worry too much about the running, put more effort into my "limiters" -- swimming and cycling", refocus my workouts on time vs. distance, be smart about active recovery and, pray that I survive this monster.

I couldn't agree more. I ordered the book immediately from Amazon.com. I'd been thinking about what I needed to do to up the workout schedule. I think I need to move my long run to Wednesday evenings to get separation and recovery from the long ride on the weekend. I also think I need to get in 2 during the week 20 to 30 mile rides to get saddle ready for the ever longer weekend rides.

With few weekend events coming up and a higher level of base building training on the calender, I think I will have less to blog about in the coming weeks. So, as I increase my level of training, I'll probably post fewer blog entries. Its time to stop thinking and blogging about this venture so much; its time to do the training.

TKO-ed

2009-08-05T11:07:00.008-04:00

"You knocks me out, right off of my feet." This line from John Lee Hooker's song "Boom Boom" expresses how I feel coming off Sunday's Olympic Triathlon. I don't know if its the summer heat or the combined effort of the swim, bike, run of the triathlon, but I felt beat up after this Sunday's triathlon. The sprint triathlon 2 weekends ago didn't drain my energy levels, but the Olympic distance seems to have drained me for a couple of days. I'm like a boxer laid out on the canvas not wanting to get back up.

When this happened to me last summer, I went in to see my doctor sure that I was iron deficient. While my blood work came back slightly low, I was not iron deficient. Perhaps this is an indication of an inefficiency in my training or racing. Perhaps its just an byproduct of being 50. I don't know if this happens to any of the rest of you. If so, I'm curious to hear you explanation of what is happening. Am I just digging deep, or is it due to the heat?

I know how to treat the problem. Take a couple of days off and rest. Recharge those batteries, then get back out there and train. Last night's sleep seemed to be the magic night where my body is finishing up repair work and I awake feeling ready to start training again. So, I'm back off the canvas and ready for the next round. I did my weight training this morning and plan a long run this evening after work.

As an interesting aside, I read in the paper this morning about a study that says that cursing seems to increase our pain tolerance. I know I've blurted out a few "sh*ts" and "f*@ks" when I've cramped up late in a marathon. I had no idea it might be doing me any good. I kind of doubt it, but who knows. The run portion of triathlons may start to get very colorful in the future. If word gets around, ear plugs may be useful in more than just the swim.

Huntington's Disease Olympic Triathlon

2009-08-02T22:08:00.001-04:00

This weekend was a very busy weekend coming off a busy week. Salome & I were scheduled to be at the Breakers in Palm Beach for the Real Property, Estates & Trust, & Probate Law section meeting of the Florida Bar. Knowing Thursday & Friday would be taken up with section meetings, receptions and parties, we decided to squeeze in short brick workouts Thursday morning before heading up to Palm Beach.

I was scheduled to meet with Tony, Carrie, Jerry & Miranda for a 30 minute open water swim at 6:45 AM. I decided to run the 1.5 miles from my house to the beach to meet them. Unfortunately, I didn't get out the door on time and arrived at the beach to see my friends several hundred yards down the beach in the water. Oh well, at least my shoes would get to hang out with their shoes. I got into the water and did a 35 minute swim. I was able to take a sighting of my friends doing their beach jog at about the 30 minute mark. After emerging from the water, I slid on my shoes and ran home. Once I got there, I decided to add on a 10 mile bike ride to do a little bridge work at the 17th Street Causeway bridge. Salome did a similar swim, bike, run at our friends house located on the beach.

The Florida Bar meetings were interesting, but I ended up standing on my feet too long and my calves were sore. I was fearing another calf cramping on Sunday, so I made efforts to not stand as much at receptions and parties. Saturday morning, I managed to squeeze in an early morning swim session in the Breakers lap pool. The meetings on Saturday went too late for us to make it to South Miami for the packet pickup, so we would have to get to the Miami Marine Stadium race site early on Sunday for packet pickup and station set up. While the days in Palm Beach were not particularly demanding from an exertion standpoint, we were both fairly exhausted when we went to bed Saturday night.

Salome and a couple of our friends were registered for the sprint distance, while most of our training group was registered for the Olympic distance. With both events and age group awards going 5 deep, this is a good chance to try to award in the sprint distance. We arrived at about 5:30 AM, which left just enough time to get our numbers, chips, get marked, set up and make a port-0-potty stop before getting down to the water for the start. Before I know it, I was in the water swimming.

My swim took about what I expected, but the bike was a bit of a challenge. With the small Key Biscayne bridge being shut down for repairs, the bike course called for 3 loops with each loop requiring an over and back climb over the Powell Bridge. The sprint distance called for 2 loops, making the bike for the sprint a 16 mile leg. I was fine for the first loop, but with each lap, it got progressively harder to get up and over on the return climb. Salome saw some riders actually get off their bikes and walk to the top. I didn't see that, but I definitely had to get out of the saddle several times to get over that climb. The wind didn't help my time either. No matter. I got through the bike, but wasn't happy with my pace. To add to the slower pace, I also expended extra energy on the bridge climbs that took away from my energy reserves.

Thank God the run course was mostly shaded. Being in the last start wave, I got to see most of my friends on the two laps of the 5K loop course. I really like this run course and hope that more of the Key Biscayne triathlons are held at this location in the future. However, with the extra exertion on the bike, I started to fade on the second run loop. When I realized I would not break 3 hours, I slowed on the run and did a little run/walk the last mile. My final time was better than when I did this course in March at the Miami International Triathlon, but I was frustrated with not breaking 3 hours again at this distance. Oh well, it is August and it got hot on the run even with the shade. On the bright side, my calves were fine. No cramping. It was also the last event we got to do with buddy Jacques Watters who moves onto the North Carolina running and triathlon scene later this month. Find us some good events in the North Carolina region Jacques.

As the only person in the last wave of the Olympic distance, I was greeted by most of my friends cheering me on at the finish. Salome did end up in the awards coming in 4th in her age group. Buddy Ken Merkel also awarded in the sprint, as did new friend Kerry, who was doing her first triathlon ever. Ken's wife, Ana was at the finish line giving out water. She must have done a good job, as she and Ken were going out later that day to get her fitted for a new bike. Carrie and Miranda got age group awards in the Olympic distance, so we stuck around for those awards also.

That evening we held a post race BBQ at our house for all of our friends who participated. We also included buddies John and Rodger, who didn't participate having just come off their week long dive trip. I finally got to hear friend Mandy Miller's stories of her run at the Marathon des Sables, a six-day, 156 mile ultramarathon. I love to hear about these ultramarthons. Not that I have any plans to do one. I find it hard enough to train for the events I'm doing now.

Between Tris: Training, a Stomach Virus & the Tour

2009-07-27T11:04:00.013-04:00

Last weekend was a sprint tri; next weekend is an Olympic tri. Thus, this weekend was a bridge to keep in general good shape and step up the training to the next level. With my calf issues, I didn't want to overly push the training during the week. Jacques & I hit the pool on Tuesday increasing our training session from 20 minutes to 30 minutes. My theory is to have the time in the pool as long as I think I might be swimming at an event. That way I can tell myself during an event that a swim portion of a tri is no more demanding than my workouts. Thursday, I did an easy 10 on the bike just to test out the calves. No problems, but I'm not sure I would have wanted to crank out a hard 10 either.

The whole week, I was suffering from a minor stomach virus. Wife Salome's supposed food poisoning turns out to be a stomach virus which she graciously shared with me. It was one of those annoying viruses that's not bad enough to keep you in bed, but troublesome enough to make you wonder what you ate or drank that disagrees with your stomach. We awoke daily with headaches and our stomach's feeling full of nothing. No gastro intestinal stuff, thank God, but you feel sightly yucky. We tend to think of viruses as a winter phenomena, but I think they are as common in the summer, just not as sever.

Before our Friday morning pool session, Jacques drops the bomb that he and his wife Christine are relocating to North Carolina in August. Fortunately, in this period of layoffs and business failures, Jacques move is a good one. He is merging his business with one based in North Carolina. Its a good deal for Jacques, but I'm losing a training partner. Oh well, I guess we'll all be doing events in North Carolina after Jacques get the lay of the triathlon and running scene. After our 30 minutes in the pool, I do a couple of miles on the treadmill. Still no problems with the calves. The several days off seems to have done the trick.

Saturday morning was an 30 minute open water swim off Ft. Lauderdale Beach. It felt good. Jacques had planned a 5 mile run, but I was saving my run for a Sunday bike/run brick. I go home and do 3 miles easy on the treadmill before sitting down to watch the Tour de France. Lance rode very smartly up Mont Ventoux sticking with Frank Schleck and not letting brother Andy draw him away and burn him out. Way to defend the podium finish Lance.

On Sunday, Salome, Jacques, Tony and I were joined in our ride by Miranda, a transported Canadian triathlete of high skills. Tony, Salome & Miranda were doing a 60 mile ride, while Jacques & I would do 30. I planned to tack on a 4 to 6 mile run. Other than the classic early ride flat by Jaques (it seems someone flats in the first several miles of a Sunday ride), the ride was great. Jaques & I turned after the Boca Inlet Bridge and hopped onto the back of a group until they started to ramp up the pace a little too high. My run was OK to start, but the temperatures started climbing fast. I ducked into Brich State Park and did 2 miles in the shade of the park to make a total of about 5 miles. By the time Salome came in from the 60 miler, I was showered and watching the peleton make its way into Paris. I was blown away by the way Team Columbia'-HTC launched Mark Cavendish to the largest lead sprint finish I've ever seen on the Champs Élysées. Sweet revenge by George Hincapie over Garmin-Slipstream for denying him his day in the yellow jersey.

As my brother Dave said to me: "Its always bitter-sweet seeing the last stage of the Tour de France. Its always great seeing the riders sweeping around the Champs Élysées with the monuments in the background and a guaranteed interesting finish and awards ceremony. But as the Phil, Paul, and Bobke hinted at: its going to be even more interesting next year with Lance and Alberto on different teams openly competing. With the Schleck brothers in the mix, it going to be very interesting. Its hard to think we have to wait a whole year to see this great race again.

Co-blogger John returned from his week long dive trip to Honduras. The photos look like a good time was had by all; however, its time to get back into training buddy. With Jacques leaving town, I need a training partner to force me to show up at the pool.

Triage

2009-07-23T16:00:00.005-04:00

A strange week coming off last weekend's sprint triathlon. I feel like an ER doctor doing triage. First, I appear to have injured myself in running after cramping up during last Saturday's sprint tri. At the time, I felt fine. I started running slow and increased my speed as I felt the calves loosen up. I felt fine after the race. I was more concerned about taking care of Salome. It was the first time I actually looked for the medical tent. We couldn't find one, but I felt like I needed to observe the patient while she recovered. Later that day, my right knee was a little sore, but not too big of a deal.

Sunday morning, I awoke feeling tired, but not sore. About what I would expect from giving a hard effort during the race. I started to feel my calves a bit as we had a few people over watching the Tour de France. It was after cutting the lawn in the evening and sitting down for a while that I notice a tightening of my calves. By Monday morning, they were very sore. Sore as in "Muscle Repair Mode: Do Not Stretch!" Triage time! What is hurt and how do I treat it? I realize I probably tore micro-muscle fibers on Saturday. Its amazes me that it can be two days out from an injury before the body lets you know you are injured and starts repair work. I decided to go into recovery mode and canceled my next few day's workouts.

After resting the calves for several days, I was able to do an easy 10 miler on my bike this morning. Tomorrow evening, I"ll try an easy paced run. I hope to do a bike/run brick on Sunday morning to get ready for next weekend's Olympic tri. Yes, my limbs are intact and functioning. I'm not bleeding. Triage can also be a check just to make sure nothing is wrong.

Happy Anniversary! The Fort Lauderdale Sprint Tri

2009-07-18T19:39:00.012-04:00

It was this race a year ago that marked my entry into triathlons. It was also the one year anniversary race for wife Salome and buddy Jacques. Thus, we approached this race with a bit of excitement. Not the usual pre-race keyed up excitement; more of a party, let's have some fun, kind of anticipation. The race gave us a one year anniversary gift of good weather, calm waters, and lots of friends participating in the party.

At the package pickup at the Parrot Lounge on Fort Lauderdale Beach, we ran into several friends and met a number of new ones. The pickup situation was a little complicated by long lines and cloud bursts of rain forcing people under awnings and me into the bar. A happy hour beer would help pass the time waiting for the rain to stop. Buddy Tony had already worked his way through the packet pickup and had staked out a seat at the bar talking up a couple of first timer triathletes. I ordered a beer and started running into tri friends old and new. I spy Jerry McFarland and a group of his friends who were ponying up to the triathlon scene. I gave what little advice I could for transitions, but mostly encouraged Jerry and his group to simply enjoy their first triathlon.

After a couple of calls from Salome, I step back outside to wait in line. Jacques and his family soon arrive and we all process through number, cap, and chip pickup. Jacques mentions that he and his wife Christine had an early date at the Parrot Lounge years ago. Tony comes up pressing another beer in my hand, so I insist that Jacques split it with me in celebration of this anniversary tri.

Salome is suffering from what ends up being food poisoning (undercooked fish from the prior evening) and decides to decline Tony's invitation to go out for a pre-race pasta feed. I suggest Franko & Vinny's Pizza Shack around the corner. We call co-blogger John to meet us. John is back in town from a business trip to the Northeast. He is in Ft. Lauderdale just long enough to do wash and repack for a week long dive trip with buddy Roger and another friend to Honduras. As we catch up during diner, John expresses a bit of envy about our participating in a tri the next morning without him. No sale dude. You're the one going on a week long dive vacation. The envy goes the other way round.

As I get home, Salome is feeling worse. A bit nauseous. She goes off to bed after getting her gear in order. I work the bikes getting them ready for the morning. Next morning, she seems a little better. We gear up and bike over to meet up with Jacques. Its so cool to be close enough to a race start that no car is needed. We arrive around 5:50 to get a good rack placing since its an open racking event. First come, best spots. Jacques is cited for a missing handle bar cap and is forced to improvise with a quarter and tap. We agree that we should all carry spare end caps because you never are aware when one of these suckers falls off. We also agree that we could have make a few bucks selling caps to all the other participants who were also surprised to find they were missing a cap. There must be little pixies that steal these off bikes in the night.

We get our stations set up and run into buddy Ken Merkel and his wife Ana. Ken was into the triathlon scene years before us and was the guy who talked us into getting into this whole madness. Unfortunately, Ken was forced to take time away from the tri scene for the last year. We were thrilled that he was returning to the fold. However, no effort to get back in goes without a hurdle or two. Ken had signed up for this event and the next day's tri in Key Biscayne when they were scheduled a week apart. In addition, the prior evening he tweaked a back muscle that had him in real discomfort. However, Ken wasn't letting this stop him. He would get back on the horse/bike.

As we wait at the Ocean front for the start, we keep running into more and more friends. There is simply nothing like a local event to bring the local community together. We take group pictures and warm up swims. The water could not be calmer. Its warm and clear with no perceptible current. Tony is off with the first group which includes the elites and the 45-59 age group. Next up, Iron Carrie goes off with the blue caps. Jacques & I are both in the 3rd wave and line up. The starter counts down the last 5 seconds and we are off.

The only problem with a sprint is that the swim distance is so short that you don't ever find enough space to call your own. I get the classic kicks in the head and side as I try to find my way out of other swimmer's way. Before I know it, the swim is done and I'm running through transition. My friend's had talked me into running this long transition run in my Teva sandals. While I am now able to pass a lot of barefoot runners, I end up distracted in T1 trying to get excess sand off my feet. I'm so distracted that I initially forget my bike helmet. Fortunately, I realize this before getting to the bike out area, so no penalty. As I come out of T1, Jacques is right next to me.

I was pleased with my bike as I came circle Birch State Park in the 23 to 25 mph range. As I go along A1a, my rate keeps in the 20 to 21 mph range: good for me. Tony, meanwhile, is cooking with an average of around 25 mph. The police assisting with side street traffic are a little off their mark with several participants almost getting whacked by cars entering the course. I have to shout off an officer about to waive a car right into me. Salome loses her water bottle in her bike portion (we were able to retrieve it later). She, too, is almost clipped by a car from a side street.

As I come towards the end of my ride, my right calf starts to give me warning signs of cramping. I try to focus on have my left leg do most of the pulling. As I dismount and start to pull off my bike shoes, both calves start to give me warning signs. I slip into my shoes and take off out of T2. Sure enough, about a hundred feet into the run, my calves start to cramp. I curse and stop to walk about 10 yards. I'm able to start running again, but have to watch my speed in order to keep the cramping at bay. I think I did not have enough recovery time from the marathon and the pace of a sprint tri was just too much, too soon. I'm able to pick up pace a bit at a time and start passing people. The 1.7 mile run is over before I know it. My time: 56:40.

Tony's bike time gives him the best time of our immediate group in 53:27. Iron Carrie is up next as 56:23. Jacques is on my heals at 56:55. Jacques' wife, Christine was taking pictures on the run course. Immediately after passing by her, I hear her shout out Jacques' name. I realize he must be reeling me in. I somehow manage to keep him at a distance, but this is going to be a coin toss in the future. The guy is matching me at too many stages. For now, I'm still ahead in the run. But I've been beat by other friends using the stealth draft, so its going to get interesting. Ken had issues with his back, but was right on Jacques' and my heels. Thus, the friendly competition amongst friends is getting interesting. Better train on that dive trip John.

Salome comes across in 1:06:09. She was pleased with her consistent swim, but the food poisoning kept her from pushing too hard on the bike and run. At the finish, she really felt awful. I found her a bench to sit down. After a while she started to feel better, but she doesn't advise competing with food poisoning. However, as a "I can do anything" Greek woman, she would not give into a little thing like food poisoning.

Jerry came in around 1:13, but time is irrelevant for your first triathlon. He seemed to have enjoyed himself. We hope to see him at other events. I could go on and on with other friends' results, but you get the picture. It was a fun and social event. Publix put on a very nice after feed. A good time was had by all. Well, maybe not Salome so much, but she wouldn't have missed the anniversary tri.

Tomorrow, we watch Lance and Alberto battle it out in the Swiss Alps in Stage 15 of the Tour de France. Just a little competition amongst friends.

Kicking It Back Into Gear

2009-07-15T10:05:00.003-04:00

Taking a family vacation so soon after an away game marathon in Seattle put me a bit behind in triathlon training. The month of June was focused primarily on running. Post marathon, I had gotten in a 10 mile muscle loosening ride mid-week and a 53 mile ride over the weekend. My week in DC, however, yielded nothing more than walking my legs into the ground. Yes, Salome & I brought our running gear with us to DC, but we simply could not get ourselves out the door for a run knowing we would walk 6 to 8 hours that day. I also realize that I had not been for a real swim session since just before St. Anthony's in late April.

We had a sprint triathlon on the calender for the weekend of July 18th-19th, but which one to do? The Fort Lauderdale Sprint Triathlon scheduled for Saturday is part of a series throughout the State of Florida put on by the Publix Supermarket chain. Last year, this was Salome & my first triathlon ever, so this was the sentimental favorite. Besides, its our local event. Unfortunately, the organizers decided to cut the run portion from a 3.1 mile run to a 1.7 mile run. I was a bit put off by making the sprint event even shorter than what I considered a minimal distance. I'm training for a full ironman. How can they start shortening the course?

The other alternative race on Sunday is in Key Biscayne as part of a series of true sprint distance events. When we were away, however, we receive an e-mail informing us that due to emergency repair work on a bridge on Key Biscayne, the venue would be changing from the usual staging area at the end of Key Biscayne to the Marine Stadium closer to the Powell Bridge. Upon further investigation, we found out that the bike portion is being shortened to 8 miles. Thus, neither event would be a standard sprint distance. Both would be short courses. We were also concerned about any logistical problems in moving the staging area to a new location, so we opted for our home course. Support your local races I always say.

Awakened from our training slumber, Salome & I did a sprint bike/run brick on Sunday. Man, did it get hot on that run. In the afternoon, we took our son Alex to the beach and traded off times to swim in the open water. Oops! I swallowed a nice gulp of salt water. My stroke rhythm was nowhere to be found. Not good. I put in a call to tri buddy, Jacques Watters and announced it was time to get back to the pool.

So this week has been "kick it back into gear" week. We've were at the pool on Monday and Tuesday mornings. On the second day, it felt like swimming again. A nice body roll and easy arm turn replaced the clunkiness of Sunday at the beach and an awkward first pool session on Monday. To that, I've added an 11 mile bike session at high effort and a treadmill speed workout. Tomorrow, Jacques and I will do an open water beach swim as a dry run for Saturday.

Yes, its time to return to the training fold. The events start to get longer and the bike and swim sessions will go longer. Two weeks out from this weekend's tri is an Olympic distance event. After that, John & I are signed up for a half IM in Clermont in late September. That only sets the stage for the final push to the full IM in late November. Yes, this weekend begins the long, slow uphill climb towards our ultimate goal. No more down cycles; its all uphill from here.

It feels good knowing I'm coming out of the solo focus on running and back into multi-sport cross training. This is why I got into the whole triathlon scene a year ago. I look forward to the slow build up in time and distance. I'm almost anxious for this weekend's sprint to be over so I can go longer in the pool and on rides. I may think differently come the month of October, but here we go!

In Cod We Trust

2009-07-11T22:23:00.003-04:00

We are back from our trip to Washington, D.C. to tour the sights with Alaskan buddy, Wayne Crayton and his 11 year old daughter Hannah. We felt our 9 year old son Alex would get along well with Hannah and wanted him to see the capital. They did not disappoint us. Alex and Hannah kept each other and us grown ups in stitches.

Salome, Alex & I arrived on Tuesday morning around 9 PM. We were met at the airport by one of my closest friends from high school, Kate McCauley. Kate and her husband Jim graciously put us up in their home in spite of the fact that they had pretty busy agendas themselves between baseball playoffs for son David and a weekend camping trip. After a quick bite for lunch at Kate & Jim's we took the subway to meet up with Wayne, Hannah and Tammy. Tammy is a colleague of Wayne's from the U.S. Corps of Engineers and a member of the running fraternity/sorority. Hannah gives me a big hug and I give her a twirl. Wayne looks great, which I was trilled to see given his triple bypass surgery in January. Now, I know my buddy is going to be alright. He looks better than pre-surgery and I've no doubt he will return to the marathon.

We spent the afternoon touring the American History Museum. Part of the museum had a tribute to the North American fishing trade. Since my family on my mother's side is from Gloucester, Massachusetts, I started telling Wayne and Tammy how important the Cod trade was to the discovery and development of our country. They were in a giddy mood and started laughing at my story. Knowing a losing battle when I see one, I started to expand on the theory of cod's importance theorizing that perhaps cod was so important that cod is the actual deity; that the idea of "God" was simply a miss-transcribing by monks in the middle ages; and that we actually are supposed to be worshiping the fish. Yes, I'm probably going to hell for this bit of sacrilegious humor. Later, as we wandered by the history of coinage, Tammy is scanning an enlarged microscopic image of a $20 Double Eagle Gold coin. As she scans the bottom of the coin, we note that the "G" is worn away to look like a "C." Thus, the inscription on the coin read: "In Cod We Trust." We were doubled over laughing. After leaving the museum and having ice creams and frozen lemonades, we walked over to the Washington Memorial.

Kate & Jim put together a fabulous dinner for all of us plus Tammy's boyfriend, Wess. Jim accidentally defrosted catfish instead of chicken for the fajitas he planned for dinner. Salome & I assured him that we would back his play and eat catfish fajitas if everyone else focused on the steak to the exclusion of the fish. My only request was that we tell our friends that its cod. Not a problem, the fish fajitas were delicious and everyone ate them. The rest of the meal was equally good.

Wednesday, we met up with Wayne and Hannah after their White House tour at the Smithsonian Castle. They and most of the Smithsonian museums had some reference to the "Night at the Museum 2" movie. The castle had the treasures and Archie Bunker thrown set up from the movie. We we glad we had taken Alex to the movie the Saturday before the trip. After that, it was off to the Air & Space Museum. Wayne & Hannah left us at lunch to go on their tour of the Capital. We toured the Hirshhorn Sculpture Garden and the Hirshhorn Museum. For dinner, we went with Kate, Jim & Sean to a nice restaurant in the hip new section of Arlington. gelatos for desert and a nice walk home. At dark, Kate & Jim drove us on a night tour of the capital. A great way to see the monuments and buildings.

Thursday, we were supposed to tour the Capital in the morning, but the Capital was shut down with a human chain war protest in the Rotunda. We crossed the street to hook up once again with Wayne & Hannah in the Library of Congress. After lunch, we toured the White House. By the time we left, about 3 PM, our legs were shot. Once we got to the Natural History Museum, however, we couldn't stop going from collection to collection. Too cool stuff. From dinosaurs to sea creatures and gems.

Friday morning, we met up with Wayne & Hannah for the last time. We visited the International Spy Museum. While not a free national museum, this is a very interesting museum. At lunch, I give Wayne a book I had picked up a couple of nights before. A history of "Cod." We all manage a short visit to the National Portrait Gallery before bidding Wayne & Hannah farewell. After leaving our friends, we head over to the Capital for our make up tour.

Saturday morning, Salome, Alex & I take a tour of the National Zoo before heading back on an afternoon flight. All in all, a fun family trip in which we got to see friends we don't get to see as often as we like. Thank Cod for good friends and good times.

On the Road Again

2009-07-05T14:33:00.008-04:00

Flying back to the east coast from Seattle was a bit of a shock to the body. I never have a hard time going to a new time zone at the beginning of a trip. I think its all of the excitement of an event and the possibility of touring and having fun that keeps the time shift from hitting me. Its always on the return that I have a 2 to 3 day adjustment. Once I'm home and back at work, my body decides to deal with the time shifting in a not so pleasant way. I'm struggling to stay alert at work and can't get off west coast time at night.

I get home around 10 PM after being up all day flying and dealing with a 4 hour stop over in Houston. Luckily, I was able to have lunch in Houston with my buddy Rick Levy, so the time on the ground only seemed half as long. Unfortunately, the airline did one of those hostage maneuvers where they pull away from the gate "on time" and sit in the runway for a couple of hours. You know you are in trouble when the stewardesses start handing out cups of water and peanuts while you're sitting on the run way. In any event, we took off after only a couple of hours on the ground. There ought to be a law. In fact, I think there is now, but the airlines are pretty good about skirting those pesky rules. As far as the statistics go, we had an "on time" departure.

Wednesday morning, I'm so off track internal clock time wise that I sleep through my alarm. My wife does the kind thing and lets me sleep in while she goes off to our trainer, Penn, for a workout without me. Thursday morning, I manage to go out with Salome for a 10 mile, get some blood flowing back in the legs, bike ride. Penn allows us to grab a makeup workout on Saturday morning, so I felt somewhat back on track weight-training wise. Penn also offers to meet up with us Sunday morning for our planned 40 mile bike ride. I put in a call to buddy Tony to make it a foursome for Sunday. Co-Blogger John decided to work on his diving and swimming skills instead. Given that he's heading out soon on a dive trip in the Honduras, I understood.

Sunday morning we meet up with Tony and ride north along A1a at 6AM to meet up with Penn. Both Tony and Penn are the strong riders and its always a pleasure to ride with either of them. Thus, Salome & I feel double blessed to be riding with these guys this morning. We pick up some friends of Penn's along the way. The group of six to seven of us feel so good that when we get to the turn around point, I say, "Let's keep going for 5 more miles north." It just felt so good to be out on a long ride again.

Of course, the distance we ended up covering (53 miles) was a stretch coming off a marathon. Late in the ride, I almost cramp up in the left calf that froze up at the end of the Seattle Marathon. By the last mile, my quads start to twitch, just a threat of a cramping up. As we get off our bikes, I'm thrilled that Salome & I were able to handle the distance. I also realize that we need to get back riding in a serious way. The Tour de France should provide the inspiration needed.

Buddy Wayne Crayton was planning a trip to Washington, DC with daughter Hannah (yes, she of the "Great Moose Attack"). We were supposed to visit DC with our young son Alex in the Spring, but Salome had a foot injury. Thus, we saw an opportunity to give Alex his tour of our nation's capital and meet up with Wayne and Hannah. Its also an opportunity to visit our friends Kate and Jim in Arlington, VA. So, we decided to hit the road again. We lined up White House and Capital tours and went to see Night at the Museum 2 to get psyched. Hopefully, Wayne and I can arrange a training run around the mall. In any event, we're "On the Road Again."

Mostly accurate -----

2009-07-01T20:53:00.002-04:00

Well, Bill's latest blog entry is mostly accurate so I suppose I'll just let it stand as is and be thankful that he is willing to take the time to chronicle this ridiculous Ironman journey of ours. And anyone who reads this blog knows what a great job he does telling this story.

One very small clarification around the "Arrogant Bastard" references. Arrogant Bastard is the name of a microbrew that was on the menu at the Ale House where we ate dinner on our last night in Seattle. Bill ordered this brew all on his own. I never called him an "arrogant bastard" or even suggested that he order this brew that I guess, could have been named in his honor --- ooooops, did I just say that? Just kidding folks.

Nonetheless, I have great respect for Bill as an athlete, a friend, a family-man and yes, even as an attorney! The beauty of running with Bill is that we truly never compete with each other. I'm certain that we've both accomplished more in our athletic pursuits than we ever would have because of how much we've supported and pushed each other. There's nothing like a great training buddy!

Until the next time ----- this is the "other" Wild & Crazy Guy signing off.

Arrogant Bastard: the Seattle Marathon Report

2009-07-01T19:11:00.006-04:00

My training buddy John is a wise runner. For the 2 days we lightly toured Seattle and attended the Seattle Marathon Expo, John proposed that we treat the Seattle Marathon as a training run. We had signed up for the event months ago as a way to keep our feet to the training fire for our long term goal of the Arizona Ironman in November. John was coming off his calf injury and was being somewhat cautious about re-injuring a muscle that the doctors had told him would doubtfully be marathon ready by late June. Yet, here we were in Seattle ready to run the inaugural Rock & Roll Seattle Marathon.

Our training leading up to Seattle was not ideal. It had rained a lot and we had record breaking heat in June. My first 20 miler had been a treadmill run in AC due to rain. My second 20 and John's only 20 miler was 2 weeks before marathon day. The heat just about killed me late in that training run. As John kept repeating all weekend: "Running slower in heat during training doesn't help make you faster in cooler weather." You trained slower; you simply end up running slower.

I am a stupid runner. If the weather on race day is cool and I feel light and fast, I'm going for glory. My theory is that if you start off slow, you will finish slow. I have never negative split a run in my life and don't think I'm genetically engineered to do so. My self imposed nickname is "Rabbito Andropov." I go out fast and drop off that pace. The question is weather the course finishes before I do. Some days my abilities are longer than the course. Other times, I run out of effort before the course ends.

We arrived in Seattle on Thursday afternoon on separate flights. Our first surprise is the cost of parking at the race host hotel, the Weston. $36 a day to park a car we don't intend to use until Saturday evening. We find out from the desk clerk that we can park at a secondary parking lot for $18 a day. After trying to drive across downtown Seattle in rush hour traffic, the desk clerk's statement that "You really don't need a car in Seattle" rings true. We find out it will cost us $39 to park near the expo and decide to drive back across town, park the car and go to the expo Thursday morning by public transportation. By the time we get the car back across town and parked for the next three days, there is just enough time for a pasta dinner and a stroll through a bookstore before turning in for the night.

Friday morning, we hit the expo. Nice official gear, but a little pricey for a recession. Not only are the prices not discounted, they are pushing the limits of consideration. After dropping about $200 each on shirts, jackets, caps, and souvenir mugs, we stroll the open vendors and sit in for bits of lectures. A doctor tells the crowd of a new study that says if you drink more than 200 milligrams of caffeine pre-race, it reduces the blood flow to the heart by 70%!!! Uh oh, I have been drinking a double shot espresso as a pre-race ritual for the last year or so. How much caffeine is in that? The doctor says you are safe with up to 2 cups of coffee.

After the expo, we go to Pikes Market and watch the fish tossing and pick up some fresh fruit. We eat a late lunch/early dinner at a hole in the wall pizza joint at the market. Two days of pasta. We should be good to go. As we do our pre-race gear set up and race number set up, John advocates running with the 4 hour pace group. I tell him I'm sticking with my higher placed corral number and will not go with a pacer. John responds that I'm going to jackrabbit out of the start and blow up like a pinata. Overnight, I decide that perhaps my wise friend is correct. Our training has not been ideal. I announce in the morning that I'll start with him in the pace group and go out at a 4 hour pace.

As we head by bus over to the race start in Takwila, a suburb south of Seattle, the atmosphere is light and fun. We line up in Corral 11 and meet our pacer, a women who is pacing for the first time. She will hand us off to a second runner at around the half way mark. The gun goes off and in about 15 minutes our group crosses the start line. One of the reasons I'm not a fan of pace groups is there is a clumpage factor. Everyone who want to or thinks he or she can run a 4 hour marathon sticks as close to the pace leader's flag as they can comfortably get. The net result: clumpage. Too many runners, too close together, darn near tripping over each other's shoes. I deal with this by running slightly off the front of the group. John, being what I call "highly social" stays a little further back closer to the pacer. He mixes it up more with the other runners. While I enjoy chatting up other runners before and after a race, I'm more of a solo, don't talk to me during a race, runner. I'll give you a dissertation on the state of the world during a training run; but during a race, I'm more in my own head than into social networking.

I stay within the group through the 6 mile mark, but I've been noting that we are behind a 9 minute per mile pace. Not having run at a 4 hour pace before, I mistakenly believe that we need to make 9 minute per mile pace. I've been checking my watch and see that we've been behind this pace since the start. This is starting to bother me. I start to get a little ahead of the group and John starts to call out for me to slow it down. He tells me to run an even effort and ignore the slope. We had studied the elevation chart prior to the race and I am keenly aware that the first half of the course is fairly flat. The miles from 13 to 20 have some real hills and elevation changes. I figure that its those second half mile that will slow us down. In effect, I lose confidence in the pacer. I feel she is putting us behind the eight ball and we are blowing our pace. I decide to go ahead based on John's statement of "even effort."

I am soon off the front and away from the group. I am aware that John will think I've broken a pact with him, but I don't trust this pacer. I go off at my own pace. I keep the mantra "even effort" in my mind and feel great. In fact I am in the zone. I've got that feeling you get when its all going right. It feels good to be alive and running. A very primordial feeling. I could be caveman running down a mastodon or an American Indian chasing a herd of buffalo for a kill. It is for moments like this that I run. As a species, we are meant to do this. We are evolutionarily designed for running; when you hit just the right stride, this is how you feel. You feel connected to the natural world.

The course has a number of out and back sections. As I cross the bridge over Lake Washington around mile 10, I realize I will soon be doubling back and will come across the 4 hour pace group and John. Over the last 4 miles, I pulled ahead about a 1/2 mile. I've not move up to another pace group, so I know I haven't over done it. But to see the look of disgust on John's face as we pass, you would have thought I had committed a high crime. I figure I'll ask for his forgiveness later. I never said that I would stay with the 4 hour pace group; I said I would start with it. I'm sure he would accuse me of being overly lawyerly, but it's not like I'm saying that it depends on your definition of what the word "is" means. And yes, after giving John this explanation post race, he threw every nasty lawyer joke at me that he could recall. And, yes, I'm an attorney.

As I come up to the 13 mile mark, I note that my watch is a 1:59. Ha, I know we were off pace. I think about the pace group and how the new leader will now start pushing the group to a faster pace for the more challenging section of the course. This section consists of a series of long uphill and downhill slopes in tunnels and on bridges just north of downtown Seattle. The course is along the double-decker State Road 99 that is just west of the downtown area. The outward bound section is on the lower deck. Here, I tuck into the shadows to keep the weather as cool as possible. Miles 18 through 21 are over a long sun exposed bridge. While I feel like I'm taking in enough fluids, I think it is during this section that I am getting behind the hydration curve. But I still feel great and I'm loving the course. On the return section of this out and back on a bridge over Lake Union, I again see John. He has fallen behind 4 hour pace group and looks like he is having a hard time of it. "Hang in there," I shout as we pass. It does not seem to cheer him up.

From mile 22 on in, the course is on the upper deck of State Road 99. Open, hot black top with no hope for shade in slight. At mile 23, I start to wilt fast in the heat, which seems to be rising quickly. Perhaps its my Northern European genetics, but I do not do well running in hot conditions. Perhaps no one does, but I seem to do worse than the average runner. I sweat pretty good in the heat. In this situation, I think the dryer air has caused me to not notice the fact that I've been slipping into dehydration. By mile 24, I've got classic signs of dehydration: my back aches, my leg muscles are starting to twitch, and my body just want to stop running. I go from having the time of my life to hoping I can finish this event. I go from an ever slowing jog to a walk and jog combination. My race is over, but I've go 2 miles left.

Its amazing how you can go from Heaven to Hell in a short time. "Why do I do this to myself," I think. More importantly: who am I kidding that I can even attempt a full ironman event? "Only myself," I respond in my head. I start watching for the 4 hours pace group leader coming up behind me. Sure enough, I see the new pace leader pushing the group at what appears to be a pretty brisk pace. There are only 3 or 4 people keeping with her. "At least I had that figured out" I think. There had been probably 40 people pacing at the beginning. I believe a pacer signed up to run the entire course would have run a more even pace.

Me, I'm starting to have muscle cramps. I'm past mile 25, and occasionally look back to see where John is on the course. With less than a half mile to go, he runs by me walking it in. "Come on Humpty," John says. While I'd love to pace in with him, my legs will not respond. "You go ahead," I say. Off he goes, probably with a nice grin on his face. I am paying dearly for my sin of hubris. No, I am not better than the running gods and I am paying a dear price for having overly enjoyed my earlier miles. With about 100 yards to go, my left calf muscle freezes up and I'm forced to stop and message the cramp out. I hobble over the finish line. I look towards the medical tent just ahead of me and for the first time ever contemplate going in for an IV hookup. "Walk it off," John says to me like a disgusted drill sargent to his new recruits after a long march. I try to keep walking, but I seriously want to lay down.

We go to the free beer section of the finish area and sit on the steps of Qwest Football Stadium. John climbs the flight of steps up the stadium to get us a couple of hot dogs. There was no way in Hell that I was going to climb those steps. John came back with the hot dogs which tasted like the best meat I've ever had in my life. Its amazing how good food tastes when your body needs the protein. I am of course humiliated with my last miles, but John is kind enough not to rib me about it. Yet. Over the course of the next few days, he lets me know how he really feels. Oh well, the guy knows my history. He really should not be surprised.

For the books, John ran a 4:08; me, a 4:11. Not a great result for either of us. We both are regular sub 4 hour marathon runners. But as John said, we ran as well as our training allowed. Its been hot and we were under trained for a good marathon result. As a waitress told us at a restaurant, "It's over, you finished, move on." Well said.

That night we drove out to a park in Redmond and saw Keb Mo, a great blues/soul singer. It was a free concert for everyone who ran the marathon. Your race number bib was your ticket in. Keb plays a great blues guitar. He was accompanied by a great keyboard player. If you get a chance to see Keb Mo, just go.

We finished our visit to the Northeast with a day trip to the San Juan Islands. We rode scooters around San Juan Island and went on an evening whale watching boat trip. Some Killer Whales from the L pod that feed in the area came very close to our boat. Captain Pete and his biology student assistant were both entertaining and informative. We spent Monday doing classic tourist stuff around the Space Needle: an IMAX movie on the Lewis & Clark Expedition; watching the kids play in the music fountain; going through the Music Experience Museum; and going up to the observation deck of the Space Needle, which is 605 feet tall. I know, it only looks to be about 300 feet; but really, its twice that high.

We finished our night at a brew pub/restaurant called "Roasters." I was going to order a locally brewed beer, but when I saw a California beer, I knew I had to order it. When the waitress returned with our drink order, she asked, "Who's the Arrogant Bastard?" I raised my hand and shrugged, "That would be me." I got no objection from my wiser running buddy John.

So, let the errata begin! I'm sure John will want to correct various misrepresentations of fact. But the fact remains that I got infinite joy out of the first 23 miles of the Seattle Marathon. Unfortunately, the race was 3 miles too long for me. I would run it the same way if I had it to do over. I may never find out. It too hot down here to train for summer marathons. The summer is for triathlons. I can't wait to get on the bike and hop in the pool and start serious bike and swim training.

I Packed My Bags Pre-Flight, Zero Hour 6 AM

2009-06-24T10:06:00.001-04:00

Man, it's been hot down here in Sunny Florida the last several days. Tri buddies Tony and Carrie did a sprint triathlon in Key Biscayne on Sunday. They both did very respectable 1:13s, but word is the run was hot. Very hot. Pace slowing, heart rate raising hot. On Monday, Tony offers up a 5 miler at 7PM. Should be cool by that time. Monday, however, was record breaking hot. I check the Weather Channel website around 5:30 PM and its showing a heat index of 102 degrees for 7 PM. I e-mail Tony that I'm out. No way am I running in that kind of heat.

Tuesday morning, I go out at 6:45 AM to get the paper and note that it has rained. Its overcast and cool with a nice cloud cover. I get geared up quickly and head out the door for a 5 miler. I must be cashing in some karma chips as I have no right to expect this kind of cool weather. On the return half of my run, I hear distant thunder. I'm hoping its heat lightening. The last mile, it starts to rain. Not heavy, just enough to make me think of Seattle. "Yes, a nice light Seattle rain could be OK during the marathon," I think. After I get home, the rain starts to fall more heavily. It starts to pour and continues to rain and thunder for the next couple of hours. That little window of opportunity was over. Thank you Lord, Thank you Jesus. I'll run 20 red lights in your honor.

This morning was my last pre-marathon run. A not too challenging 5K speed treadmill workout. I only took it down to 7:30 mile pace. Don't want to do anything stupid the couple of days before a race.

As I start gathering gear and checking my paperwork for Seattle, I note that my flight out is at 6:10 AM. What was I thinking? With my wife driving my son to Gainesville the same day, its going to be hard to get her or him to get up early for a 5AM drive to the airport. These must have been the only flights available on my frequent flyer ticket. That, or I'm just an idiot. A rose would smell as sweet, I guess.

I gather together my usual doodads and goodies for Seattle. Race registration, hotel and car confirmations, shoes, goos and power bars. Don't forget the Pedialyte and the Starbucks Double Shot Expresso for pre-race hydration and accelerant. What to wear for the race? I usually over pack race gear to give myself options. Portable speaker set and iPod. Check. Camera. Check. Books for the plane ride. Check. Houston, we've completed our checklist and are "all go" here. Now, if I can just arrange that ride to the airport. Wish me luck. That, and cool weather.

Sleep, Perchance to Dream

2009-06-21T20:24:00.001-04:00

As reported this week in the New York Times, new sleep research out of Stanford University suggests that simply getting more sleep can improve athletic performance. In the article, a fitness writer was explained how she felt great and went the fastest she had in weeks on her long run after coming back from a vacation. One possible explanation came to her mind: she had erased her chronic sleep debt on vacation, which made her extremely well rested when she took the run. I can relate.

I have a tendency to being a night owl. I blame this partly on our culture and the network heads in New York. Most of the fun/good stuff happens at night and very often the later, the better. Watch Letterman, Conan, or the Daily Show and you don't get to sleep until around midnight. Go out with friends to a concert or a bar on a Friday or Saturday night and you're getting to bed after midnight or later. The NBA playoffs are finally over. Thank God! There was some truly great basketball this year. Well, maybe not the finals so much, but leading up to them there were some great games: a full 7 game series between my Miami Heat and Atlanta; a Celtics/Bulls overtime fest; Orlando taking Boston at home in game 7; LeBron's game 2 one second three from the top of the key in the series against Orlando. Great basketball, but not good for getting proper sack time. You could watch a game about every night that kept you up to midnight or close to it.

Thus, I'm coming off a bit of a sleep deficit myself. I don't think that sleep deficit helped on my 20 miler last Monday in which I broke from the heat and had to death march the last 3 miles. The next couple of days, I've come down with one of those over-training sniffles/fatigue things. I don't know if its a full blown cold, or just my body protesting running too long in the South Florida heat on too little sleep. OK, let's just call it a cold.

Did I mention, I love a good cup of coffee? I love the smell and taste of a cup of Joe; but have a cup of coffee after the noon hour and I'm up late into the night. It's not a problem when you've got a good book you want to get through; not so good when you've got a early morning training run or ride scheduled. Not to mention the sleepless night we all have before a big endurance event. Not only does the mind keep the body awake thinking of the event, but we get up a 4AM to get ready. Thus, while we make sure to get in all of our scheduled training, we tend to cheat ourselves on sleep.

It reminds me of my experience at the Berlin Marathon last September. I was so excited to be in Berlin, that I didn't get enough sleep before marathon day. I toured around, met and hung out with other marathoners, and basically didn't get enough sack time. My race turned out to be a bit of a struggle to get through. I just made it over the finish line just under 4 hours with literally a few seconds to spare. I had a great time in Berlin, but probably at the cost of a better run time.

Thus, for the next several days, I am going to try to grab some extra sleep. Hopefully, that will help me get over the sniffles and reduce my sleep deficit. Fortunately, I've been to Seattle a couple of times before, so the touring siren song will not be as loud. Buddy John is also very good about chilling the day before a race, so I'll try to follow his good example. I'll also avoid the Starbucks until after the marathon. That's the plan anyway.

On the training front, this quasi-cold put a dampener on my training. I ran 6 miles Wednesday and took the next 3 days off trying to recuperate from the cold. I was supposed to do 10 miles with buddy John Sunday morning, but drank a glass of wine with some visiting friends Saturday night and ended up with a terrible headache. This told me that I was not over this cold, so I bailed on John late Saturday night. I ended up doing a 10K on the treadmill on Sunday. Who knows, maybe this is the proper taper given my situation. It does not make me feel better about abandoning my buddy though. Sorry John. Remember, I now own you a Starbucks at the original store in Seattle.

Home At Last

2009-06-15T20:19:00.002-04:00

Well the danger on the rocks is surely past. Still I remain tied to the mast. Could it be that I have found my home at last. Home At Last - Steely Dan

Crazy busy weekend this past three days. I feel like Ulysses on a long voyage with strange happenings and hardships before finally getting home.

It all started off Friday night with a stop at the Seventh Street Wine Company. Wife Salome & I were simply stopping by for one glass before we were to go see our son John MC an American Cancer Society concert at Huizenga Park. Buddy Tony had asked a bunch of us to stop by since it was bar tender Sydney's last night before going away for the summer to Seattle. While I had never met Sydney, I figured I could get some tips on things to do in Seattle after the marathon. Sydney was the equivalent of the witch-goddess Circe, the enchantress who turned half of Ulysses' men into swine after feeding them cheese and wine. While a lovely woman, she didn't seem too keen on offering any insight into the Seattle scene. Instead, she kept pouring all of us the various wines we bought, distracting us from our voyage for the evening. We never did make it out of that wine bar until late that evening. Luckily our son texted Salome to let us know that his MC gig wasn't much of an event due to low turn out. He had fun with his friends that he invited, but it wasn't the big gig we all had hoped it would be. Good thing, as I was feeling like a swine for not showing up.

The next morning was a fishing trip with buddy John on his boat. He had invited three of us dads with our young sons to go fishing for the morning. Thus, Saturday morning was an actual sea voyage. Captain John is a great host for young fisherman. He took us out to the first reef and trailed a chum block to attract reef fish. Now, the fish on the first reef are generally too small to keep. No matter. The kids had a blast casting and catching whatever would bite the squid on the hooks. We dads kept busy cutting bait, setting the hooks and helping the kids get their catch in the boat. Older son John came along as Co-Captain and photographer. Young son Alex was thrilled to catch a yellow tail snapper. I would have been more thrilled if it was big enough to keep and grill. Afterward, we had some of the gang over to our house for burgers, hot dogs and a swim.

After a mid afternoon nap, I get a call from a friend offering two tickets to see Steely Dan that night at the Meizner Park Amphitheater. Coming out of my nap, it felt like a dream. Previously, I was told there was one ticket available. Steely Dan is one of my favorite bands, but I was hesitant to go without Salome who is also a big fan. Luckily, my friend's college age son, Josh, decided to give up his ticket. Problem solved.

If you like jazz and get a chance to see Steely Dan, go. Don't think twice; buy tickets and go see these guys. Walter Becker and Donald Fagen were backed by a very tight jazz band. The horn section included a trumpet, sax, tenner sax and trombone. Becker looked like an old man in shorts, Bermuda shirt, ankle high socks and sneakers, but he rocked that guitar and swayed as he played. Donald Fagen not only sang most of the songs, but he also played a Harmonia, a clarinet like instrument with a keyboard along the side. They played a lot off of Aja, Goucho and Katy Lied. The three backup singers shared some of the lyrical work. All in all, the concert was better than I had any right to expect. It had me itching to go to a jazz festival.

Sunday morning we all went to our church for son John to receive a scholarship from the Greek educational group called AHEPHA. Several high school graduates get scholarship money and the mood was very festive. My wife had mistakenly thought that Sunday was father's day (it next Sunday). She had the kids wish me happy father's day. That afternoon, I called my father to wish him a happy father's day. He thought I was nuts. When he corrected my misconception, I told him that I just wanted to be the first to wish him a happy father's day. We both agreed that its a holiday created to not have fathers feel left out after Mother's Day in May. My feeling was the fishing trip the day before was the best Father's Day gift I could receive. No need for a gift next weekend.

Training buddy John & I had agreed to put off our last 20 miler before the Seattle Marathon until Monday morning. John hates to get up too early for a run; I hate running in the heat. We tossed the starting time around and settled on a 5:30 AM run. The first two hours were lovely. The sun wasn't up at the start and by the time it got too high up in the sky, we were running along a condo shaded area of A1a. I was good until we got to about mile 17. Suddenly, we were out in direct sun at about 8:30 AM. In South Florida, that equates to 90 + degrees of heat. With humidity, it feels like 98 degrees. Suddenly, I'm wilting in the sun and bordering on heat exhaustion. We duck under the beach showers to try to cool off. I have to finish the run as a run/walk death march. I start singing the lyrics to Steely Dan tunes in my head to try to get thought the ordeal. "I see the ditch out in the back they're digging just for my." "Still I remained tied to the mast. Could it be that I have found my home at last?"

I offer for John to go ahead to finish his run. He declines all offers saying, "No one gets left behind." He has that dive buddy/Marine Corps ethic. I think he may also have felt a little guilty knowing I would have chosen to start earlier to avoid the extreme heat. In any event, we finished our 20 miles and cooled off at my house. I was home at last.

Now, its taper time. We cut back on our run distance to be well rested for Seattle on June 27th. The lesson I keep relearning is that even though we pick northern climates to run our summer marathons, we still have to train in the heat of South Florida to get ready. June 15th is a little late in the year to be doing 20 mile runs outside. Hopefully, we are now weather tested and will survive our voyage in Seattle.

Mutually Assured Destruction

2009-06-11T19:00:00.004-04:00

After our 17 mile run two weeks ago, buddy John and I were talking to a neighbor of his as we rode up in the elevator of his building. The neighbor asked how far we had run. We told her about the upcoming Seattle Marathon and our long training runs. We explained our long term goal of doing the Arizona Ironman in November. "Whose idea was that?" she wondered. I replied that it isn't a question of one person convincing the other to do these long endurance events, but more of a policy of mutual assured destruction. If I'm going to put my body through the hell of training for these events and risk a death march in the Arizona desert, I'm not going down alone. If I crash and burn, someone is going down with me.

Isn't that how we choose our training buddy? Someone as dedicated (or as foolhardy) as ourselves to sign up for an event, go through the rigours of training, and see the event through from starting gun to finish line. Most of us know Sir Edmund Hillary becoming the first man to reach the summit of Mount Everest. Nine other expeditions had tried before and didn't make it to the summit. People had died trying to get to the summit. Did Sir Hillary attempt this crazy expedition by himself? No way. He teamed up with Sherpa Tenzing Norgay. Could Sir Edmund have made it to the top by himself? Perhaps. But when we attempt a task that is sure to test the limits of our endurance, it somehow helps to have someone else along for the ride (or swim or run for that matter).

Before you finish your first marathon, there is a real doubt in your mind as to whether you will be able to finish the 26.2 mile run. Your longest training run is usually 20 miles. I know I had those doubts in the back of my mind before I ran my first marathon in Athens in November, 2002. I was hedging my bets so much that I signed up for the Miami Marathon scheduled for the following January as a backup in case I didn't finish the Athens Marathon. Or course, I did finished the race. So I convinced my brother to train and run Miami as his first marathon. On the way to the expo, the exchanged refrain was, "I'm not worried about you, I'm worried about me." My brother had the first timer doubts about being able to finish. I was trying to improve on my first marathon time, so I was worried about pushing myself too hard and possibly blowing up. I knew my brother had done the proper training, so I was confident that he could finish. He knew I had run a marathon before, so he was sure I would be fine.

I think that goes to the heart of the buddy system. Having trained together, each buddy knows the other guy (or girl) is properly trained and is capable of completing the endurance event. But these endurance events are long enough that a crash and burn is always possible. The psyche remains a doubting Thomas constantly calculating the risks of problems and failure. Doubt and anxiety about completing an endurance event never goes completely away. The solution? Get your buddy to sign up for the event too.

I'm sure Sir Edmund knew the Sherpa could make it to the summit, but wasn't sure about himself. I'm guessing that either Neil Armstrong or Buzz Aldrin could have done the first moon landing solo, but neither guy wanted to try that crazy landing and takeoff by himself. I can picture Neil Armstrong drinking beers with Buzz one night in a bar in Coco Beach saying, "If I'm risking dying on the moon, you're going down to the surface with me." "What about Mike Collins?" asks Buzz . "That sissy can stay in the Command Module as our support team," replies Neil as he drains his glass. "OK, I'm in."

So, while we joke about the buddy system being a policy of "mutually assured destruction," its really a policy of "mutually assured success." Shared hardship equates to shared success. Knowing our buddy is getting up before dawn for a workout, forces us to get out of our warm beds. Set up a ride or swim with your buddy and you are more likely to make sure you are there on time. The loneliness of the long distance runner is not so lonely when you've got a buddy to share a conversation with along the way.

Doing endurance events teaches us that you can accomplish just about anything you put your mind to achieve. You just need to break a big task down to into managable parts and creat a plan to get the parts accomplished. We can climb Mount Everest, land on the moon, run a marathon or do an ironman event. It just helps to have a buddy crazy enough to be the Sancho Panza to your Don Quixote. See you this weekend for that last 20 mile run, Sancho.

So Long, and Thanks For the Fish!

2009-06-08T12:19:00.005-04:00

Son John leaves for college in a couple of weeks, so Wednesday evening we had a farewell party for him and his peeps before they spread out around the country. It was also a bit of a make up party for the headliner band from the graduation party that got shut down. A good time was had by all. The lead singer, Ciara Emauele, has a great voice. Look for her on American Idol one of these years. The band rocked. One of the songs they played was Pink Floyd's "Another Brick in the Wall." It was a bit ironic as the song came out about the time I graduated from high school. I guess what goes around, comes around.

Young son Alex's 3rd grade class had a 50's/60's poetry reading. As the kids shouted out after each poem was performed: "Cool, groovy, peace." They finished with a rendition of "If I Had a Hammer." Talk about your throw back tunes. A very nice event. Alex is 9th in from the left in an old long sleeve tie die tee-shirt of mine. I used it for skiing for the last 15 years or so. The sleeves were too long for Alex, so I cut them off. The sacrifices we make for our kids. He loves the shirt, so it has new life.

Our riding leader, Tony was off to Hawks Cove in the Florida Keys for the weekend for his builders association group's annual fishing tournament. So, Saturday morning it was buddy John, Ironman Carrie and me out for a 35 mile ride. Without Tony as our natural lead, we each took turns at the front. However, not being out on a group ride in many weeks, my group riding skills were a bit rusty. We also got to sharpen our tire changing skills by failing to find the sliver of glass that lay hidden under a small flap in Carrie's tire. Three tube changes later and we were on our way.

That night Salome, son John & I got together for dinner on Hollywood Beach with John's classmate, Catherine Ettman, and her parents. The restaurant was an open to the beach. Very lovely, reminding me of restaurants on the Greek Islands. Then, the skies filled with rain clouds and the rain came down for hours. The food was delicious and the conversation interesting. A good thing, because we ended up there for hours waiting for the rain to stop. The rain and lightening made for an even more interesting view of the beach. However, it did make for a late evening. Not intended, as I was scheduled to do an early morning 15 mile run with John on Sunday.

I manage to get up at 5 AM and get to John's by 5:40. The 15 miles were not too bad, but have I mentioned that it has gotten pretty darn humid down here? I can't wait until we get to Seattle for the marathon. The humidity has got to be less than the 90% + we've been experiencing. John's I.T. band started acting up for the second week, so he tells me to go ahead around mile 11. I go off and make sure to not look back and make him feel bad. Little did I know he was stalking me and goes shooting by me around mile 13. The sand bagger.

Later that day, I get a call from Tony saying he's coming back with 30 pounds of fresh Dolphin (the fish, not the mammal). Tony asks me to invite enough people over to eat 30 pounds of fresh fish. Normally, you don't get a positive response to a same day party invitation. But when the last minute invite starts with "Tony's bringing 30 pounds of fresh Dolphin for the grill," you get a much better acceptance rate. So, we ended the weekend with a great fish grill. A couple of bottles of red, many bottles of white, and lots of good company. It was nice having a party for the adults after having to act as supervisor for the last couple of high school parties. We may be older, but we still like to have a good time. Thanks to Tony for the fish and the grill work. Any time you've got the fish, we'll fire up the grill.

Sand Traps

2009-05-31T14:27:00.011-04:00

Fellow blogger and training buddy John went to Ireland for his annual golf outing with his buddies. The pictures he took of Ireland's golf courses blew me away. The landscape is both beautiful and treacherous from a golfing standpoint. Too much wild grassy areas and rolling country-side make these courses look extremely difficult. Pictured above is a sand trap. You literally have to walk down a flight of wooden steps to get down into the thing. I can't imagine trying to hit the ball out of one of these things.

Our training for the Seattle Marathon has been very much like hitting into one of these sand traps. Both John and I got behind the curve in our long runs. I was supposed to do a 15 miler 2 weeks ago, but only ended up doing a 12 miler with John the night of my son's graduation party. John planned to try to get in a 14 mile training run in Ireland, but never managed to get off the course in time to allow him to put on his running shoes. Meanwhile, back in South Florida, it has rained about every day for the last 10 days. Don't get me wrong, we needed the rain, but it made it hard to get outdoors for a run. With all the rain, the humidity has stayed above 90% making for slog runs. Neither of our base mileage totals are were where we wanted them. We were in a training sand trap.

What do you do when you're in a sand trap? Get down in it and try your best to hit out of it. That's what we did. While John was away in Ireland, I dropped all cross training and started doing treadmill runs almost every day. Last weekend, I did a 20 mile long run on the treadmill. A chore indeed, but it had to be done. The following week, I alternated between 10K recovery/base mileage runs and 5K speed work runs...all on the treadmill. I would sing "Rain, Rain, go away," but as I said, we needed the rain.

Today, John & I returned to the outdoor long run by doing a 17 miler. With all the mileage and the prior weekends long run, I somehow tripped the switch in my body that tells me I'm marathon ready. The long runs go from being a bit of a chore, to feeling nice and easy to complete. I get in that "Little Engine That Could" mode and just plug away at the mileage.

John, having done nothing but walk the links for 5 days, had it a bit harder. He had a leg muscle hiccup about mile 13, where his foot started bothering him a little and he fell off pace a bit. But by mile 14 he was picking up the pace and was just off to my left back shadowing me. It was supposed to be a 15 mile run, but John had upped the ante to 16 on the outbound, and decided to tack on another mile at the end of the run to get back to the 17 he had on the calender he made for himself at the beginning of training. Not bad for someone whose last long run was 12 miles two weekends prior.

So, it looks like we've gotten ourselves out of the training sand trap and back onto the fairway. Of course, this will only take us through the Seattle Marathon hole of the 18 hole course that is our training for Ironman Arizona.

I'm already getting a little anxious about ignoring our swimming and biking the last couple of weeks as we focused on our running. But that's the next hole. I can barely see the tees for the next hole from here. I'm still trying to hit onto the green of landing in Seattle on June 25th.

Slogging Through Marathon Training

2009-05-24T10:49:00.010-04:00

The Seattle Marathon on June 27th looms over the horizon. Coming out of St. Anthony's in late April, I've turned primarily to getting my run mileage up to marathon distance. I had gotten in a couple of 10 milers and a 12 miler prior to last weekend. I was scheduled to run a 15 miler last weekend, but had to cut it down to a 12 miler to make it a buddy run with John and get back to my son's graduation party before it went overboard (it rained every day). Thus, I looked at my training schedule a little concerned as I missed my 15 miler and was staring at a 20 miler on the training calender. From 12 to 20: that's a big jump.

To add another monkey wrench into the mix, it rained the whole 3 day weekend. On top of all that, I've been up late watching the NBA playoffs about every night the whole month of May. I tend to be a night owl. With some great basketball to watch each night, it's not easy getting up at 4 0r 5 AM to get in a 20 miler before the South Florida heat sets in. I sleep in Saturday morning after seeing the LeBron James 3 point shot late Friday night. As it's either raining or threatening heavy rain, I delay going outside to run. I drop young son, Alex, at a friend's house and realize the temperature at 1:30 PM is around 78, downright cool for South Florida in May. Normally, I would not consider running outside in the afternoon in May, but the overcast skies and the relatively low temperature is tempting me. I get home and gear up to go out. In the 20 minutes it's taken me to get geared up, the sun comes out. I pull the plug on an outdoor run. Not wanting to risk getting further behind the training curve, I opt for the dreaded treadmill 20 miler.

I don't recommend this to anyone. I prefer getting out and seeing the world for my long runs. But the rain was scheduled for the whole weekend (which it did). So, I popped in Disc 1 of Season 2 of 30 Rock and watched 9 episodes over 3 hours. That's a lot of comedy. It was a nice distraction. In any event, I got the run done. I also ended up indoors for my 10K run this morning due to rain. Hopefully, I can run outdoors for my remaining long runs.

Running buddy John is away in Ireland on a golf outing. He's supposed to try to sneak in a long run, but I have my doubts as to whether he will get in much of a run. He'll have his work cut out for him on his return.

My son John's graduation was this past Tuesday. Turning 50 didn't make me feel old, but having a son who is a high school graduate sure does. At this moment, he and wife Salome are up in Gainesville, Florida for orientation for summer session at the University of Florida. As a UF alumnus, I couldn't be happier for him. Go Gators! Go John!

By the way, I highly recommend you read my buddy Wayne's blog this week. http://atrampathonabroad.blogspot.com. He had to fend off a moose attack on his daughter. He gets my nomination for father of the year.

Concerts, Parties, Training & Planning

2009-05-17T17:12:00.001-04:00

What a whirlwind of a weekend. Older son, John finished his last day of high school on Thursday. Friday we went to see Coldplay in West Palm Beach, Saturday was a graduation party at our house, and I was supposed to get a long run in this weekend at some point. How did it all work out? Here goes.

Coldplay. I had turned son John onto Coldplay when I discovered them with the release of their second album. We've all been fans since. John suggested that tickets to the Coldplay concert would make a great graduation gift. I orginally bought him 2 lawn tickets, but decided to get him better tickets, figuring he could sell the 2 lawn tickets to friends. When he heard this, he suggested that we take the better seats and join him and his date, Becka at the concert. We were glad it worked out this way, because the show was amazing. Chris Martin and his bandmates put on a fabulous show. He sang songs from all of their albums with most of Viva la Vida played. The crowd couldn't help but chime in on many of the songs. The band came off the stage for twice to play on small stages in the crowd. The first time was about 15 rows in front of us, giving Salome & me amazing seats. The second time they played a small stage on the lawn, so John & Becka got a close up view also. The crowd stood, danced and sang the entire show. To top it all off, at the end of the show, Coldplay gave away a live CD with 9 songs from the first leg of the tour. Thus, the fun continued on the drive home from the concert as we listened to more live Coldplay. Sweet.

Saturday Graduation Party. The party was great. Lots of nice kids and music. John has friends that form several bands. They bands played great, but my wife & son decided to have the bands outdoors again. The last time we tried this, the cops came and forced us to move the band inside. The cops showed up at the house as did way too many kids. Let's just say the party reached a tipping point. The cops made us shut it down. I guess that makes it a memorable graduation party.

Fortunately for me, buddy John had agreed to join me in an evening 12 miler and was in attendance. Thus, when I had to act the bad guy and start forcing reluctant party goers to head towards the exit, I had help. Now, that's a friend. Someone who will not only train with you, but join you in doing the unpopular, but necessary act of shutting down a party gone out of bounds. Thanks John. I don't know if I could have gotten it done without you.

Training. The 12 mile run earlier in the evening was a strong one for John. He definitely pushed me to my capacity on the return 6 miles. Impressive, given he had done a 30 mile bike ride in the morning. He is setting the standard high. I've got my work cut out for me in catching up to his fitness level. Yes, that injury is history.

Planning. On the planning front, we are trying to figure out a Half IM to do sometime in the August to September range as a checkpoint for the late November IM. We are considering both the Steelhead Half in Michigan in early August and the Clermont Half in late September. Steelhead is supposed to be a popular race, but it would be a major travel event. It's also only a month from the Seattle Marathon. Clermont is more of a drivable local event, being located near Orlando. Both are under consideration, but I'm thinking it will be Clermont.

Curb Your Enthusiasm...For Vitamins

2009-05-13T17:22:00.003-04:00

I've never been a big believer in supplements. Growing up, my mother always made us eat right and we never took vitamins. Throughout my life, I've tried to eat a varied diet. That and exercise has keep me in good health.

As reported yesterday in the New York Times in an article entitled,"Vitamins Found to Curb Exercise Benefits," a recent study seems to indicate that taking supplements may be working against the benefits of exercise. I quot the meat of the article:

“If you exercise to promote health, you shouldn’t take large amounts of antioxidants,” Dr. Ristow said. A second message of the study, he said, “is that antioxidants in general cause certain effects that inhibit otherwise positive effects of exercise, dieting and other interventions.”

The effect of vitamins on exercise and glucose metabolism “is really quite significant,” said Dr. C. Ronald Kahn of the Joslin Diabetes Center in Boston, a co-author of the report. “If people are trying to exercise, this is blocking the effects of insulin on the metabolic response.”

The advice does not apply to fruits and vegetables, Dr. Ristow said; even though they are high in antioxidants, the many other substances they contain presumably outweigh any negative effect.

I find it ironic that the biggest advocates of dietary supplements tend to be those people most concerned about their health who are eating proper diets. I think they view vitamins as a form of insurance. They aren't sure whether they're getting what they need, so better pop some vitamins to make sure. This "insurance" view contrasts with my "medicinal" view of only taking vitamins if there is a known deficiency you are trying to correct.

It now looks like many vitamin supplements, as opposed to being unnecessary insurance, are actually working against the training effect. By avoiding unnecessary vitamins, our workouts may be more effective. So, you may want to clean out those cabinets this weekend. Be sure to have an apple, orange or banana while you toss out supplements.

To Moms: Who Make Everything Possible

2009-05-10T10:46:00.010-04:00

Well, It's Mother's Day. We've officially given up on a ride report from John on MS 150. Since I've received run training updates from him, I know he made it back alive. Oh well, this blog thing isn't for everyone. Onward we go.

It's Mother's Day today, so it's fitting that we reflect on all our mother's and wives do for us and our children. Clearly, without you, we wouldn't be here. But it not simple biology that gets you the great appreciation we feel for you today. It's all the love and caring you provide to us to allow us to be the best that we can be. It's the meals you made for us and the admonition to eat the right foods. It's checking in on our day to let us know that you care about how we are doing in school, with our friendships, and later, in our jobs. Our mothers are our own personal cheer leaders in life.

The attached picture is of my son, Alex, proudly wearing his medal from the field day held at his school. Of course, you know who was there helping out the teachers: his mom and my wife, Salome. Salome is always looking to volunteer for events to assist with the our kids' activities. She plans extra curricular programs to further their education and other enrichments.

Then we have my wife's mom, Kiki, who lives with us. In Greece, there is a tradition of multiple generations sharing the same house. It's usually a multi-story townhouse, with the yaya (that's Greek for grandmother) on one story and the family on another. When Kiki's husband was sick with cancer, I told her right away that if something happened to her husband, John, that there was no question that she would come to live with us. Kiki moved in with us when John passed. We've never thought twice about it. She is an integral part of our lives and I feel doubly blessed to have two moms in our home. The love and caring that these two wonderful women provide to me and my two sons is a gift that can not be measured. Thank you ladies for being part of our lives and being our cheer leaders. You provide cheer in our home.

After my 12 mile run this morning, I got breakfast for son Alex, always an early riser. Then, I got busy making breakfast for my women. They like my Greek eggs (scrambled with feta cheese and spinach). Coffee, toast and juice were prepared. It's my weekend ritual. Oh, I do my man stuff: cut the yard, help with the wash and dishes, fix things around the house. But its the weekend breakfast they seem to appreciate the most. I'm glad that there is something like this that I can do that feels more than just doing my duty. I serve them this breakfast in appreciation for all they do for me and my sons.

I also have to give a shout out to my mom. Although I don't think she reads this blog, it doesn't matter. My mother has had a tough life, losing a very young son to a drowning and an adult son to cancer. No mother should have to witness a child they gave birth to die. I know she has been heavily burdened with these losses. However, these pains never caused her to pull back on the love and care she gave to the rest of my brothers, sisters and myself. She always tried to nurture the cultural side of us. She is a life long musician, playing the violin in various local orchestras her entire life until she recently retired from playing. A large part of my love of music came from the osmosis of listening to her records playing on our home stereo as I grew up. Thanks Mom for all you gave me.

Not to be left out, buddy John's mom, Molly is our adopted quasi-Mom. She just turned 80 last month, but you wouldn't know it to see her. Her pep and smile make all of us know the love she has for all of us. From knowing two of her sons, I can say that she did a great job raising two fine men that I have the honor to know and call friends. She is a loving mother and yaya. Happy mother's day to you too Molly.

To all of you other mothers out there that read this blog: we may not show it often enough, but we love you and appreciate all that you do for us. You deserve this special day of recognition. You are our mothers.

To you blog readers out there: be sure to call your mom today and let her know what a special person she is to you.

Let's Be Careful Out There

2009-05-06T16:57:00.009-04:00

Well, the MS 150 ride occurred this past weekend on May 2nd and 3rd. Cinco de Mayo has come and gone and still no ride report from that other “Wild and Crazy Guy,” John. Yes, he’s a busy guy, and I’m sure he’s plumb tuckered out from 150 miles of riding over 2 days. So we’ll have to wait a little longer for that report. While we wait, I figured I’d post a bicycle related entry.

I read a news blurb from roadbikerider.com over the weekend. “Florida once again leads the U.S. in bicycling fatalities. In federal statistics just released for 2007, 119 cyclists were killed in Florida, 10 more than in second-place California, which has twice the population. Florida had 28% of all cyclist fatalities in the U.S. and a rate of 6.52 cyclists killed per million population, nearly 3 times the national average of 2.31.”

Living in South Florida, there are 3 news stories that you read about once or twice a year: 1) A child drowns in a pool at home or at the beach; 2) A scuba-diver diving without a dive buddy drowns; and 3) A bicyclist is hit and killed by a car. Whenever I read one of these articles, I can't help but think these are avoidable tragedies. Someone should be keeping a better watch out for the kids near water, divers should never dive solo, and drivers should have a better awareness of bicyclists sharing the road.

My first quality road bike was a Fugi S10S road bike. I purchased that bike while in college and put countless miles on it riding all over Gainesville, Florida. After college, I road it all around the Clearwater/Tarpon Springs area with my older brother Jim, who introduced me to road riding and running. Back in Gainesville for law school at the University of Florida, I road that bike all over town again for transportation and exercise. I loved that bike and I loved riding.

When I moved to Fort Lauderdale in 1986, however, I quickly decided against riding a road bike. The main streets in the city that I've lived in for the past 23 years are six lane congestion pipelines filled with SUVs and elderly people of questionable driving skills. I remember trying to go on a solo ride early on and getting frightened to death by the oblivious drivers surrounding me. I got home, put my bike in the garage and let it slowly turn to rust over the next several years. I bought a couple of cruisers for the wife and I to go to the beach with and focused on my running.

A couple of years later, our neighbor Sam, a regular road cyclist who road A1a on weekends, got thrown from his bike when a Canadian tourist pulled out of a condominium parking lot without looking. Sam got pretty banged up and has had back problems ever since. I considered Sam lucky to be alive and swore off serious South Florida riding for several more years.

When Salome saw the local sprint triathlon a couple of years ago and decided she wanted to try the tri, we bought a couple of bottom of the line road bikes and started riding A1a. As we soon discovered, this is the route all Ft. Lauderdale riders take. There was a feeling of safety in numbers. We later stepped up to carbon fiber frames and started riding with other cyclists on a regular basis. Thus, I’ve gotten over my fear of our local drivers, but have heard way too many stories of cars turning into whole groups of riders to let my guard down.

I assume that the majority of drivers neither see us or give us the space we deserve. I also assume that these same drivers will always assume the right of way whether they have it or not. This is not to say I’m a nervous rider, I’m not. I just assume the knucklehead in the car either does not see me or will make a bad judgment call for which only I pay the price. Do I yell at the driver who makes a bonehead move in front of me? No. No need to piss off the guy driving the lethal weapon. I do wave and point at drivers coming out of side streets and parking lots. I also try to make eye contact whenever possible. But there are no guarantees. I’ve heard of too many incidents of riders doing everything right and getting bumped into or worse.

I envy those of you that ride in communities where you can get out to un-congested country roads. Perhaps as we become more populous, the land of open roads is becoming more myth than reality.

May 20 at 7 p.m. local time worldwide is an annual Ride of Silence. The event honors cyclists that have died in accidents with motor vehicles and it seeks to raise awareness of cyclists' right to the road. Participants ride no faster than 12 mph for no longer than an hour, and they maintain silence as in a funeral procession. The movement has grown to include more than 300 rides in the U.S. and 17 other countries. All cyclists who ride the road are welcome. There is no charge. For information, go to http://www.rideofsilence.org. Even if you don’t go on an organized ride on May 20th, think of your fellow cyclists that have died in what are most often avoidable accidents. And as the Sargent on Hill Street Blues used to say: “Let’s be careful out there.”

St. Anthony's....Duathlon????

2009-04-27T22:39:00.015-04:00

So, this weekend was the St. Anthony's Olympic Triathlon. I traveled to Clearwater on Friday to visit my folks. That night, my younger brother, Dave, who was also scheduled to do this event, met up with me at our favorite local pizza parlor/sports bar for some brews and pizza. Tri buddies, John, Tony & Keith drove up to Saint Petersburg Saturday morning.

Since I had to wait on brother Dave, who is perpetually late, before heading down to St. Pete for the Expo, we got to the race site about an hour after John & Co. We arrange to meet down by the water. There is a pretty good chop in Tampa Bay. We all exchange nervous talk about the swim as we watch other athletes doing practice swims on the course. The 1500 meter course looks huge. With the first 1/3 of the course running next to the Bayfront Pier, I am wondering if the tide will be pushing us into the pier the next day. Since swimming is not any of our strong suits, we agree that we will swim to survive on Sunday morning.

After doing our number pickup and bike drops, Dave & I peruse the expo. We meet up with another Ft. Lauderdale buddy, Jacques and his lovely wife Christine and his two kids. We now have our personal cheering section for the race finish. Dave tries on and buys a wet suit to get any advantage for the rough water we expect the next morning.

That night at diner with Dave and my parents, I note that I've never seen a bigger transition area. There are approximately 4,000 participants doing the event. That is a lot of bikes. Luckily, I've got an easy to find location along a fence near the swim/bike entrance. Dave too has a good spot. I insist that Dave get his gear together Saturday evening and spend the night at my folks house so I don't have any unwanted delays Sunday morning. He promises to be at my parent's house around 9:30 PM Saturday evening. That night, I watch the Miami Heat beat up on the Atlanta Hawks. The game ends around 10PM. No, Dave. I call him and tell him to be sure to get to the house that night. I head to bed.

That night, I don't sleep well. My subconscious is not comfortable with the water conditions. However, like the rest of my buddies, I decide that if the race officials decide it's safe, I'm in the water. When I awake at 3:45 AM, I find my brother Dave in an adjoining bedroom. He tells me he got in at 1:30 AM. I'm glad I didn't wait up. As we drive down to St. Pete, Dave explains that the proper strategy for the swim is to give it maximum effort on the outward leg since the tide will be against us.

As we park and start to head to the bay front, the winds are kicking up pretty good. I note that the stop signs are shaking. I comment that this could make the bike ride tricky. As we get to the bike transition area, we take a look into the dark surf. It looks about like the day before, but with just the slightest of whitecap tops. We go in, pump up our tires and set up our transition stations. Dave & I return to the SUV to drop off the pump. On our return we meet up with John & Tony who tell us that the race officials just announced that they were canceling the swim portion of the event for everyone other than the pro athletes. At first, I think our friends are playing on our fear of the conditions and messing with our heads. But, soon we notice that everyone is buzzing about this unexpected news. What does this mean? How are they going to handle the rest of the event? Do we care?

Apparently, the tide and waves were bad enough that the kayaks that patrol the swim area are unable to stay stable on the water. What choice do the race officials really have? Apparently, there was one death in the water at St. Anthony's in the last couple of years. If the conditions were bad enough that the guys looking out for our safety can barely take care of themselves, we lost our margin of safety. The news accounts of the pros at the St. Pete Times website make it sound like the swim was a struggle for the pros. Thus, I am grateful the officials made the call.

On the other hand, I've now lost my edge. I totally relax. The portion of the event keeping me on edge has been canceled. As 4,000 participants wonder around the swim exit area, we all ask each other how they will send off the age group waves. We are told that we can wear our bike helmets to the swim exit area and that we will be sent off individually in 2 second increments. So, we get our bike helmets and line up by the seawall. We watch the pro men and pro women waves take to the water. Boy, are they fast swimmers. Watching the pros come out of the water and sprint through transition is inspiring.

My wave is #15 out of 30. Buddy Keith & I are in the same wave, but the last wave of our friends. As the waves get called up, we cheer our friends on like we are spectators. Eventually, wave 15 gets called up and Keith & I line up along the seawall. Since Keith is much faster than I am at each event, I have him get in line ahead of me. When Keith gets to the start official, I think I hear them exchange words. What did they say to each other? Do I have to say something to this guy? He looks me in the eye and counts "One, Two, Go!" Oh, shit! My race has started.

Off I run through transition. As I pull my bike off its rack and start running towards the bike out exit, I realize I forgot to hit the start on my watch. I could try to reach over to start my watch, but I would most likely drop my bike. I decide against starting the watch. I get to the mounting line and get on the bike.

The winds blow, but the course has many turns, so its about a neutral effect. I look down to my bike computer after a bit and notice that its not registering. I think about reaching down to the wheel to try to correct the sensor, but decide against it. I hit the computer button to run see if that helps. Sure enough, the speed starts to register. So, I now know my speed, but the mileage is slightly off.

The wave just before my wave was the Clydesdales. Thus, I'm getting passed by the strong bikers, but passing a bunch of big and tall bikers. I'm hitting 20s to as high as 24 mph with the wind and down to 16 to 17 into the wind. I feel I'm holding my own, except when a faster biker goes by and says something like "way to go." While this encouragement should make me feel good, it actually makes me feel bad. For a biker to go by me offering encouragement must mean I look really slow to him. If not, the guy would shut up and try his best to blow by me. In any event, I come into transition averaging 18.9 mph.

Coming out of transition and into the run, I finally start my watch. I start repassing all the strong bikers that passed me in the bike. This makes me feel great. Vengeance is mine. I start off with a couple of 7:30 miles before slowing down to low 8s. It's gotten warm, so I douse myself with water at each water stop. Near 2 miles, I high five buddy Jacques. He looks strong. Around 2 1/2 miles, I come across brother Dave. He waves me on. Shortly after, I see John. He is too far ahead for me to gun for him, so I just concentrate on reeling in those directly in front of me. Near mile 4, I pass 4 guys in their 30s running as characters out of "Joe Dirt." Thank God! I hate getting beat by stunt runners. With one mile to go, a guy goes by at a good clip. The dude was in great shape. I use him to pick up the pace and pass a few more people to move up through my age group before the finish. Before I know it, I turn for the finish. My run time was just over 50 minutes for the 10K.

My run time was 5 minutes faster than my run 5 weeks earlier at the MIT Olympic tri. However, without the swim, I don't know if I would have run this fast. My overall time was 2:12, but I don't know what to make of it. I'm just into the upper 50th percentile for my age group, so I'll take that as a passing grade. My buddies greet me as I come out of the finish area. They all completed in the low 2 hour plus range, except for Keith who is in a whole different category from the rest of us. The dude is fast at whatever event he competes in. Everyone heads to the refreshment tent while I wait for brother Dave to come in. We walk over to the beer tent and get our reward. The refreshment tent had good food and we hung around with our buddies a while. All in all, a good event, but I have no way to measure this effort without the swim. Oh well, there is no controlling nature. It was still a fun time. The bike and run courses were very nice. I can see why this race is so popular.

Well, better safe than sorry. The race organizers did the right thing in canceling the swim. It did throw me off my game though. We will all have to come back next year to see what the full event feels like.

Next week, buddies John & Tony do the MS 150 bike ride in the Keys. John came through St. Anthony's in good fashion (2:17). Thus, if he does OK in next week's ride, we will officially cease any mention of his recovery. Hopefully, he will post an interesting report after next weekend's ride. Me, I'm chilling for the week before returning back mainly to running in gearing up for the Seattle Marathon on June 27th.

Other friends' finish times: Keith - 1:49, Jerry - 2:08, Tony (the Tiger) - 2:09, Jacques - 2:16, and brother Dave, 2:30.

The Boston Marathon

2009-04-21T11:33:00.001-04:00

So, both Ryan Hall and Kara Gouhcer fell short of winning the Boston Marathon yesterday. They both ran very well, each taking 3rd in their category. You just never know with the marathon, particularly Boston. I for one am extremely proud of their achievements. We can expect good things to come from each of these runners in the future.

Since I didn't get to run Boston this year and I'm waiting on my friend Jen's race report (she ran a 3:23:59), I figure I'll post my race report from my 2006 running of Boston. This is a tough course, but in hindsight the memories are always fond ones. Perhaps it's the trill of being in the Mecca of running. Perhaps it's the shared fun and pain of doing it with other running friends. All I can say is: if you ever get the chance to run this event, "Just Do It."

In any event, here is a reprint of my 2006 running of the Boston Marathon.

Pre-Race. Since the 2006 Boston Marathon fell during Spring Break this year, I took along the family for Spring Break. We stayed at the Park Plaza on Arlington, which worked out great as the gear bag retrieval area put you right outside our hotel at the finish. We arrived on Friday in time for running buddy, John Clidas, son John and I to see the traveling production of “Spamalot” at the Colonial Theatre, a gorgeous theater off Boston Common. The show was everything a Monty Python fan could hope for and more. We liked it so much, I made my wife Salome go see it the next night. I also picked up an “I’m not dead yet” button that I put on when I turned on Hereford Street during the marathon.

On Saturday, John Clidas and I did an easy run on Bolyston Street to the finish line and followed the marathon course as far as a 3/4ths of a mile on Commonwealth Avenue. After breakfast, I took the family to the observation deck at the Prudential Center for an overview of the city. We hooked up with my brother, Dave, his wife Dianna, and daughter Katelin for the trip out to the Expo. As expected, the Expo was a madhouse of shopping and excitement of the coming event. I get slightly claustrophobic at this expo due to the sheer number of people. Talk about your running Mecca. You can feel the excitement. Of course, we loaded up on gear. For dinner that night, we went to an unexpectedly nice Irish pub, M.J. O’Conner’s for ribs and salmon. OK, I had a pre-race Guinness.

Sunday morning, I went out for a Boston Globe and to pick up some Easter candy for my younger son, Alex. After a compted breakfast at the hotel, I sent the family off to the Museum of Science. Brother Dave and I went for a tour of the Museum of Fine Arts. Nice Impressionist and Colonial collections. For dinner we went to the official pasta feed. It was a little windy and cool, but the organizers gave out nice Easter candy and we got to see a mini-show from the “Big Apple Circus.” We returned back to our hotel for an early bed time.

Race Day. Awoke Monday morning, slipped into the bathroom to get ready, and was out the door without waking the family. I made my way over to the Weston hotel to have breakfast with running buddy Chris Howard who was running his first marathon as a fund raiser for the Liver Foundation. It was your basic bagels and fruit breakfast, but I met a few nice people and was able to score an inflatable raft to sit on at the Athlete’s Village in Hopkinton. It was nice to ride out to the start in the tour bus with bathroom, which came in handy. At the village, Chris and I bump into John Clidas who immediately disappears into the crowd after exchanges of good wishes. Just because he was in the last corral of Wave 1 and we were in the first corral of Wave 2, you’d have thought he couldn’t get away from us fast enough. John was going to pace with running buddy, Costas Liatsos. Soon thereafter, we locate Dianna who was hanging out in the Wave 2 part of the village while we were in the Wave 1 section. Who knew we were in the wrong place.

Since Chris is a better runner than both John and I, I walked down to the Hopkinton town square to arrange for him to get upgraded from the last placed charity corral into my corral so we could pace each other. In the town square I came across Dick and Rick Hoyt, an inspirational father/son team from the Boston area doing their 25th Boston. They were busy greeting the crowds, so I snapped off a cell phone photo and made my way to the help booth. On my way back to the village, I got a call from brother Dave, who had taken the train out from Boston. We located each other and walked back to the village to play the waiting game before the start.

The one criticism I have of the 2 wave start is that there wasn’t much time for the Wave 2 people to get to their corrals. Grove Street leading from the Athlete’s Village to the corrals was a jammed up mess. Chris and I had to go around houses and jump hedges to get to corral 11 in time for the start. Other than that, being in the 1st corral of Wave 2 was kind of cool. I never thought I’d ever be that close to the start line of the Boston Marathon.

At the gun, we took off with the crowd. Chris, knowing my propensity to let the crowd carry me away, held the pace back. I am so well known for going out too fast that I sometimes joking tell people that my name is “Rabbito Andropov.” For the first couple of miles, I high-five the young kids on the right side of the road. Chris keeps drifting slightly back, forcing me to take the pace down to a smarter speed. The cool mid-50s temperatures and the cooling slight wind in our faces made the first few miles feel great. Little did I know I was probably over extending my energy. We hit the 5K mark in 24:11 and the 10K mark in 49:09, all on course for a 3:30 type marathon pace. However, after mile 7, I start to feel my body flag a bit. I tell Chris I’m going to fall back on the pace a bit and for him to soldier on. With an exchange of good wishes, I back off the pace from 8 minute miles to 9 minute miles.

Just before I get to Wellesley, I see a 6'6" guy in outlandishly flamboyant drag doing a faux Wellesley girl imitation. Too funny. I’m not sure what’s funnier: the outfit, or the deep voice. I remember seeing the guy last year and wonder how many years he’s been doing this act. At Wellesley College, I high-five the girls. Their excitement really recharges the batteries. While I don’t stop for kisses, I high-five as many as I can. I hit the half mark in 1:50:15, now averaging 9:15 miles.

I decide I’d better take some short Galloway walk breaks before I get too tired. This seems to work fine until I get past mile 16. I’m really feeling tired and just before mile 17, I get a twinge in my right hamstring. Oh, oh! Not my weak spot showing itself so soon. I normally don’t have hamstring issues until very late in my marathons. Here I am just starting the Newton Hills and I’ve got a serious issue. Just up the first hill and BAM, the right ham locks up. I hobble to the side of the road and message out the cramp. From here on in, I will have either my left or right hamstring lock up every mile or so. With each lock-up, I hobble to the side of the road and stretch it out. Each stop adds a couple of minutes to my time. My pace must also slow in order to avoid bringing on more frequent lock-ups. I decide to stop taking my splits.

I start to wonder: maybe my body is just not designed to go 26.2 miles. Perhaps I should stick to the 10K distance. The next thought is: How the heck am I going to get to the finish line. I am miles away with plenty of distance to go. This is the worst experience I’ve ever had in my 14 marathons. It know hits me why Boston is so hard: It’s not the hills from mile 17 to 21 that get you. It’s the rolling 17 miles before you get to the Newton Hills that soften you up like Mohammad Ali has been constantly punching at your hams and quads getting you ready for the knockout punch in Newton. Last year, it was my quads that were a problem. This year, it’s the hams. Choose your poison.

So, I’m wondering what to do. However, on the realization that if I don’t finish, I do not get the medal, I decide to “Keep on Truckin.” It’s funny the difference that little piece of metal can make in motivation. I also notice that many people are starting to walk these hills. I refuse to do this. I will run the hills. So now its run to the top and lock up. Message the leg and hit the next hill. Surprisingly, this seems to work. At mile 19 I happen to glance around my left shoulder and catch the John Kelly statue. By Heartbreak Hill, it’s like “Night of the Living Dead.” It seems like 90% of the runners are walking up Heartbreak Hill. I choose to run. I somehow make it to Boston College. Yes! At least I’ve got the hills behind me.

My troubles, however, are not behind me. Last year the B.C. crowd seemed mostly guys smashed on beer. This year, there seems to be more girls and they are more enthusiastic than drunk. It has more of the Wellesley College feel to it. I start the high-fives again and pick up the pace. Oops! Ham cramp. Just after, Boston College, I meet a woman runner from Nova Scotia who is having quad cramps. We decide to try to run together. However, with each down hill she cramps and with each up hill I cramp. We keep separating and rejoining like some cosmic yoyo.

I finally hit Beacon Street and can see the Citco sign off in the distance. Last year, it was a mirage that I couldn’t get closer to. This year, I have an idea how far away it is. I keep reeling it in. At least its getting bigger. Since Boston College I keep passing and being passed by a guy running in a gorilla suit. I wonder how much sweat he’s got pooled in his feet. He appears quite hot in the suit.

I cramp one last time on Beacon Street looking like a Keystone Cop hoping over to the left side of the road. This causes an old Boston Woman to laugh hysterically. After she stops laughing, she tells me to “Get back out there.” I figure she came out of Fenway Park and has a little chatter left over from the Red Sox game. I dutifully obey.

At the one mile mark, I again find the Nova Scotia runner and I encourage her to run again. Shortly thereafter, we hit the downhill side of the underpass tunnel, she cramps up, and I lose her again. However, I tell my body I refuse to cramp in this last mile. I actually pick up the pace. On the turn on Hereford Street, I remember the button from Spamalot reading: “I’m not dead yet....” and put it on.

I turn onto Bolyston Street. Ah, sweet Bolyston Street. Its like a victory parade. I’m not moving very fast, but the pain and the cramps are a thing of the past. I spot my older son John and yell out to him. He sees me. I turn back to him for a picture and then move forward. About 100 yards on, I see my wife Salome and younger son Alex. She yells my name and the ten people surrounding her repeat my name at the top of their voices. Now, this is sweet. Total strangers cheering you on by name for the fun of it. Salome shoots a picture and I move on for the last few hundred yards to the finish. I cross at 4:14. Nowhere near the pace I was on, but 20 minutes better than last year.

I turn back at after walking about 50 feet past the finish. I want to find the woman from Nova Scotia. We meet, hug, and thank each other for the mutual assistance. I come across Gorilla Man waiting to get my medal. He had come out by train as far as he could and ran the last 10 miles. I tell him I’m amazed he ran 10 miles in a gorilla suit. He tells me he’s amazed at me for running 26.2 miles.

Brother Dave, coming off a leg injury, was pleased to come in at 4:30. He realized he was cutting it close and had to pour it on the last mile. His wife Dianna came in just behind me in 4:18. Newbe, Chris did the amazing and clock a sub 4 hour 1st marathon in 3:55. The ever stalwart John Clidas came in at 3:42. Ironman, Costas Liatsos bested us all with an even 3:30. It figures our Greek runners would be our best finishers. Nike, brothers.

During the race, I was thinking of burning my running shoes or throwing them in the trash. This was the hardest marathon I’ve ever run. It is clearly the hardest course I’ve ever run. Perhaps it is due to being a Floridian and training in the flat lands of Fort Lauderdale, Florida. The only hill work we get is a causeway bridge that I’m sure others would laugh at as being hill work. However, we get no pity from New Englanders. Two days later, visiting my aunt at the House of Seven Gables in Salem, Mass., another guide asks me how I did. I tell her I had trouble. “Was you time in the 3:30s?” she asks. “No,” I reply, “my time was 4:14.” “Oh,” she says, “you came in with Curt Schilling’s wife.” OK, I get it. I’m not an athlete. I’m only as good as the wife of a real athlete. Boy, you New Englanders are a tough crowd.

Like many before me, I have yet to figure out this Boston course. I’m sure Chris will tell me to go out slower. I’m also pretty sure I need higher mileage to do this course justice. But, I’ll probably return next year. I previously passed along to John and Chris a quot from Barron Pierre de Coubertin, founder of the modern Olympics movement: "The important thing is not to win, but to take part; just as the most important thing about life is not to conquer, but to struggle well."

So, there it is. I hope I didn't bore you with this dated report. I really want to run this event again. However, I would not be able to do both the Boston Marathon and St. Anthony's Triathlon in the same year. This year is for St. Anthony's.

The Once & Future Kings

2009-04-19T11:40:00.018-04:00

Ryan Hall with Bill Rodgers posing just before the finish line for the Boston Marathon.

With the Boston Marathon coming up tomorrow, you strict triathletes will have to indulge me for today. Coming from a running background, nothing gets me more excited than the running of the Boston Marathon. This proud tradition dates back to 1897 after the event was essentially invented the year before at the first modern Olympics in Athens in 1896.

American had a proud tradition in this race going back to seven time winner Clarance DeMar in the '20s and early '30s, John A. Kelly and Tarzan Brown in the 30's and 40's, John J. Kelly in 1957, Runner's World writer Amby" Burfoot in 1968, Alberto Salazar in 1982, and Greg Meyer in 1983. On the women's side, we had the great Joan Benoit Samuelson win the women's race twice in the late 70s and early 80s on her way to win the first Women's Olympic Marathon title.

But probably the greatest American runner of the Boston Marathon is Bill Rodgers, who won the event in 1975, 1978, 1979, and 1980. During this same era, he also won the other great marathon of the time, the New York City Marathon, four times. After Bill Rodgers no American dominated the marathon like he did.

In the late 80s the Kenyans and Etheopeans started owning the world major marathons. They pretty much do to this day. We got a resurgence in American marathon running the last six years or so with the major win being the double podium finishes of Meb Keflezighi (silver) and Deena Kastor (bronze) in the 2004 Athens Olympics. Deena went on to win the Chicago and London Marathons in the next few years, but the Kenyans pretty much dominate the sport. Bill Rodger's 4 time modern era streak was recently matched last year when Kenyan Robert Cheruiyot won last year for the fourth time. He runs again this year and threatens Billy's record.

Coming up the ranks in the last few years, however, is Ryan Hall, an American runner who also trains at altitude like the Keyans. He broke the American half marathon record several years back and has run competitively in London Marathon the last couple of years. Ryan trains in Mammoth, California like Meb and Deena, so the advantage of altitude training the Keyans and Ethiopeans naturally have is matched. Ryan is young for a marathon runner and very dedicated to his faith. Can he match the Keyans tommorrow? Bill Rodgers thinks so. I also think he has a shot. Let's hope he can run smart and dig deep into his faith in God and in himself. It would be great to see an American win the Boston Marathon again.

On the women's side, there is also renewed hope of an American women winning the race. Deena took a shot at it 2 years ago, but had some unfortunate intestinal problems that took her out of contention. This year we look to Kara Goucher, a 5k and 10k racer that moved up to her marathon debut at the New York City Marathon last November. She finished in third place in a time of 2:25:53 becoming the first American on the podium since 1994.

Here is a preview video from Runner's Word:

Runner's World Boston Marathon Preview Video

On the home front, I'm in taper mode for St. Anthony's Olypmic Triathlon in St. Petersburg, Florida next Sunday. I did a sprint distance brick (10 miles bike/3.1 mile run) on Saturday as a tune up. Buddy John did an Olympic brick (25 bike/6.2 run) to verify his recovered calf muscle can hold up. I did that for the MIT Olympic tri last month and I fear it may have taken out too much from me for the event. So, I cut it back a bit and hope to break 3 hours at St. Anthony's.

Speaking of "Once and Future Kings," my young son Alex had a field day at school last Wednesday. I tried to get my older son, John, into the running and biking thing, but he doesn't seem interested. Perhaps Alex will take over from me when I can no longer do these events.

I attach a video of his hurdles event.

Is it Possible We Have Nothing Interesting to Say?

2009-04-16T18:14:00.009-04:00

Yeah, it's possible. John's comeback from his calf injury is pretty much complete. He was able to keep up with us on a 45 mile bike ride 2 weekends ago and he is back up to running the 10K distance. Thus, he looks good to go for completing the full St. Anthony's Olympic triathlon on April 26th. He's just too busy to update the blogosphere about it. Me, I've been riding and running and swimming. Putting in my time. Waiting for St. Anthony's.

Outside of training, tons of stuff is going on. Taxes, breakups (not John, and not Salome & I), Samoli pirates. Oh, I could go on a tear about the Samoli pirates, but it would be so off blog as to be ridiculous. Easter? Yeah, it was nice. Greek Easter this weekend? Should be fun. My sons respective Spring breaks? OK. I took young son Alex to the Kennedy Space Center. That's always cool. Older son John went to Key West with his friends. They had fun. I just don't seem to have too much interesting to say about any of it, or I can't organize it in an interesting way. Perhaps it's writer's block.

Oh, here's something. Best of luck to any of you running the Boston Marathon this coming Monday. That's always a blast. The expo is the best expo I've ever attended. Be sure to hit the Runner's World speakers series. It's like going to fantasy baseball camp. A bunch of past and current elite American runners speak. This year Ryan Hall and Kara Goucher give us a real shot at having an American win this thing again. The great Bill Rodgers is running again for the first time since the centennial year of 1996 in celebration of 30 years since his forth Boston win in 1979. That should be cool.

Maybe that's it. This will be the second year in a row that I don't run the Boston Marathon. Maybe my head's in the wrong place because I didn't have the Boston Marathon to get psyched up for this April. I'm trying to get psyched up for St. Anthony's. But, I have to admit, it's not Boston.

So, sorry it's not more interesting or enlightening this week. I'm just plugging away. Time for me to go for a 10K training run. Maybe I'll go a little longer tonight. You know, for Boston.

Best of luck to Jen. Remember kid, this is a training run for you; not a race. Hopefully, you will have an interesting blog entry for me to read after Patriot's Day. Make it inspiring. Someone has to pull the load around here.

P.S. I ran 11 miles tonight. It felt great to go long again.

Who Reads These Things Anyway?

2009-04-07T21:11:00.004-04:00

When tri-buddy John & I started this blog, we didn’t know who, if anyone, was looking at this thing. We have a half dozen or so people that are registered as “Followers” of the blog. That’s not a great number in the blog world. Other triathlon blogs I follow have much bigger numbers. I don’t know if these people have more friends than us, if they are younger than us and their friends are more technologically keyed into the whole blog thing, or if they are just better bloggers then us.

In any event, we tend to think that just a couple of people are looking at this thing. Occasionally, I’ll be at an event and someone will tell me that they read a particular entry. I get somewhat taken aback at this, but I am generally pleased at the fact that anyone is checking it out.

When I was setting up my Facebook account, I realized that I could link my blog entries to Facebook. So, I linked it up without giving it much thought. The week after I posted my entry entitled: “On Death & Dying...and Being Alive,” I got several comments on FB about the entry. I also had people bring it up in conversations the week or so afterwards. When I brought this up to co-blogger John, his comment was “You have to treat any of this stuff on the Internet like it was being published on front page of the New York Times.” Little did we know.

After my ride on Sunday, I make it to the Greek church John & I attend. John is Greek and I happen to be fortunate enough to have married a beautiful Greek woman. At the social hour after services, I see John’s mother, Molly at a table with my mother-in-law, Kiki, and their friend, Penny. As I chat with them, Molly says to Penny, “Oh, you have to read their blog.” “What?” I say taken by surprise. “You read our blog?” Molly then explained to me how she was interested in whether her grandson, Matt, a high school cross country runner, had any published road race results on-line. She was aware that John had gotten his brother Mike and his nephews Matt and Andrew to run a 5K in late December with us.

So, she Googled the name “Matt Clidas.” Up comes our blog name in her search results. “What’s this?” she wonders and clicks onto our blog page. I had blogged about the race and included Matt’s full name in the entry. (Is that a blog "no no"?) Thus, Molly found our blog. Fortunately, she had very nice things to say about the blog, so all is well. How she managed to keep this under wraps from both her son John and me for four months, I’ll never figure out. Molly is a very gregarious woman who likes to talk. I now know I can tell her any secret and it will be safe. With all the nice things she had to say, we my have to hire her to market our blog. As for you other bloggers: Let’s be careful out there. You never know who has your blog book-marked in their Favorites folder. As for Molly: you keep on reading and we'll keep on writing.

Finally, our friend Linda Paige completed her first triathlon last weekend. Way to go Linda! Congratulations and welcome to the fold.

Watching the Wheels

2009-04-05T22:02:00.011-04:00

I'm just sitting here watching the wheels go round and round, I really love to watch them roll. No longer riding on the merry-go-round, I just had to let it go. "Watching the Wheels" John Lennon

Sometimes you have to stop trying to force the square peg into the round hole. Stop trying so hard and things fall into place. The events leading up to this weekend are a case in point.

I’ve had the Cherry Blossom 10 Mile Run in Washington DC on my radar screen for several years. It is a race in that takes you around the sights in DC during the Cherry Blossom bloom period. It attracts world class runners and is supposed to be good race to run. It has always been a hard race to get into. This year, I vowed to run it. I got online at the earliest possible time and scored registrations for both me and my wife, Salome. I figured it would fit in with my younger son, Alex’s spring break and I could visit my friends, Kate and Jim, who live in the area. Then, life got in the way. Salome’s injured right ankle was not getting better soon enough for her to run a 10 mile run. The thought of paying to fly 3 of us up to DC and then have her foot be too sore to walk around the museums kept me from booking the flights. We got busy at work. My older son wanted to tag along, but his spring break didn’t match up with Alex’s. I kept looking at air fares after getting the come-ons from the airlines e-mail pitches, but never found cheap flights. I don't know if it has to do with being from a Spring break location, but we never seem to get those cheap air fares you keep reading about here in Ft. Lauderdale. As we got closer, the fares climbed. Finally, I threw in the towel. The Cherry Blossom 10 Miler would have to wait another year.

Similarly, buddy Wayne in Anchorage was somewhat lamenting his not being in Paris this weekend to run the Paris Marathon. After coming back from bypass surgery, he is just getting back to running the 5K distance. Hang in there Wayne. You will “get back to where you once belonged” and run the streets of Paris next year. Besides, you would be missing the “volcano watch” if you were away in Europe. Reality TV isn’t this good.

I just don't think these races were meant to happen for us this year. Once I stopped trying to force the trip that wasn't meant to happen, other options opened up. I went on to run a local event: the Kids in Distress 5K. A 22:30 effort. Not a PR, but the first 5K I've done in a while and good for 2nd in my age group. It wasn't a big race, but the weather was nice, the after race celebration had good food, and you can't knock any race in which you place. A fun time at a fraction of the cost. On Sunday, we had a great group ride of 45 miles. All in all, a great weekend.

Oh, well, maybe next year in Paris...or Washington, DC for the cherry blossom bloom.

Graduation Day!!!!!!

2009-04-01T19:46:00.004-04:00

----- from physical therapy that is. And I'm now on my way baaaaaaaaack!

Who would ever believe that it was possible to get a "runner's high" from a 5 minute, 5.2 mph jog on a treadmill? Well, I sure didn't. But today, that's exactly what happened. For the first time since running the ING Miami Half-Marathon on January 25th of this year, 9 1/2 weeks ago, and 8 weeks and 2 days since my snow-boarding injury (torn calf muscle), I finally got to go for that short and slow jog on the treadmill. Wow! I can run again!!!

After that little "slow jog" test, along with a "strength test", my physical therapist announced that he was done with me and that I was cleared to start running again. Of course, with some limitations for right now. For the next week, I'm cleared for 10 minutes every other day (either outdoors for two 5 minute segments with a brief walk break in between or, 10 minutes straight through on the treadmill). And the following week, I can go out for 15 to 20 minutes straight through. If all goes well over these next two weeks, I can then start back on my normal ramp up toward marathon distances once again.

Refections: At 48 years old, getting injured plain old sucks -- and that's the only way I know how to put it. Getting sidelined and not being able to do the things I had become so accustomed to doing really took it's toll on me. Now I didn't break down or turn into a basket case, but I'd be lying to say that not being able to get my regular cardio fix from running didn't reduce my energy levels and didn't depress me a bit. It did. But I will say that with the help of an awesome physical therapy team, treatment and recovery plans were made, I stuck with those plans not missing one PT session, and thankfully, with the great support of my training buddies (who regularly called me names like "vegetable" which quickly, at my request, turned into Mr. Broccoli Rob -- thanks Tony!) am now back on the road to running again.

So, enough said. I'm on my way back and looking forward to once again being able to experience the true joy of some of the simplest and pretty darn inexpensive things in life: going out for a run, bike ride or swim. How cool is that! It's not the "economy stupid". It's good health and good friends that makes for a great life.

"Surprise!, Surprise!" : The Riverwalk 5 Miler

2009-03-23T09:45:00.005-04:00

If it wasn't apparent from my race report on the Miami International Triathlon, I was a little bummed at not breaking that 3 hour barrier. My swim and bike times were as expected. I realize I had no right to be down. But, I'm used to being in the top third or quarter of my age group in my road races. I was in the bottom quarter for MIT. It's all a matter of feeling like I showed up and gave an solid effort. My standings just didn't give me that feeling.

Thus, it was in this funk that I signed up for the Riverwalk 5 Miler. I usually will not sign up for an event the weekend immediately preceding a prior event. However, my wife Salome loves this race and had been looking forward to it for months as her return race coming off her long healing foot injury. Given her comeback status, she was going to run the 5K. A number of other friends were also running, so I went with the flow and signed up.

The Riverwalk 5 Mile and 5K Runs are very pretty runs through the Riverwalk area of Ft. Lauderdale and through the shaded streets of Rio Vistsa. The race is put on by the Junior League which always has a nice after race feed with pancakes and OJ. The race also gives out unique watercolor prints of the Riverwalk area as awards.

As we await the start of the 5 Mile race, a light rain starts to fall. A number of us wait for the start under the protection of a parking garage. Just before race time, the rain stops and we head to the start area. I await the start with Triathlete buddy's Tony and Jerry. Tony expects to run 8 to 8:30 miles. I state that I'll go for 7:45s. Jerry, a lean and fit 30 something guy, decides to pace with me. I forget that he doesn't know that I have a bad tendancy to go out too fast my first mile. As the race starts, I do my usual jump out. I get pulled by the faster runners at a pace I know I can't sustain, but off I go.

The course almost immediately goes over a bridge with a now rain slicked grating at the top. We all slow slightly so as to not slip as we cross the bridge. As we head into Rio Vista and come to the first split, I note I'm at 6:48, too fast to maintain. I try to calm myself down and roll back to a sustainable pace. At about the mile and a half mark, Jerry comes by. "Somebody bolted from the start," he says. "Sorry Jerry, I forgot to tell you about my rabbit tendencies," I reply. We pace together for another half mile when I drop pace a little more and let Jerry go ahead.

My mile splits after that were 7:31, 7:39, 7:43 and 7:43, for a total time of 37:28. A PR for me at the 5 mile distance. Jerry ran a 36:15, much faster than he expected. I felt my going out too fast helped him get his good time. Tony comes in around 43 minutes. I find my speedster friend Jen, who ran the 5K. She came in as the 2nd woman overall. Better yet, she broke 20 minutes for the 5K, a goal she has been chasing for a while. Salome comes in from the 5K in just over 30 minutes.

We're hanging around chatting with other runners and friends, when Tony comes up to announce that I took 3rd place in my age group. I'm shocked and amused. Coming in the awards bracket just does not happen to me. Once in a blue moon. To top it off, Salome ends up in the top three for her age group. We both walk away with nice watercolor prints.

It just goes to show you: you never know who is going to show up on race morning and how well you will run that day. I had not hit a PR in any distance since this very race 3 years prior. Nice surprise for my slightly dinged ego from the prior weekend.

On Death & Dying...and Being Alive

2009-03-20T10:24:00.019-04:00

OK, so this is bit off track (or should it be "off blog"?), but a couple of strange things happened this week. This stuff gets rambling around in my brain until it comes out, like George Carlin's book, as "brain droppings."

First up: From a bicycling newsletter I subscribe to: "An 87-year-old man died in suburban New York after he caught fire while riding his bicycle, reports the New York Post. Authorities say the elderly gent was likely smoking a cigarette that ignited his nylon jacket, engulfing him in flames. A passing motorist used a fire extinguisher but it was too late."

I don't know too many people that exercise and are dumb enough to smoke. At 87 years old, the guy lived a full life; but, wow, what a way to go. I can just imagine the guy riding along, thinking: “A smoke would make this ride more enjoyable.” He takes out his cigarette. Lights it. Whoosh, he’s engulfed in flames. I don’t know if that’s biking karma or simply dumb luck. Maybe that’s what karma is. The consequential results of the good and bad things we do in life that come back to either reward us for our good acts, or bite us in the ass for bad acts. The ironic thing here is the guy was doing a good act in exercising, but the bad act of smoking trumped the good he was doing, in a very colorful and lethal way.

Next: Natasha Richardson dying due to hitting her head on a beginners slope while taking a ski lesson. It makes you realize how fragile life is and how easy it is to have it all be over. This tragic death is like the way the HBO series Six Feet Under made you realize how easy it is to die by showing you yet another unexpected way to go at the opening of each episode. You mean you can die from a small hit to the head while on a beginner ski slope? Yes you can.

OK, a show of hands. How many of you used ski helmets before now? I never did, and I’ve done some crazy double black diamond runs, mogul runs and glades tree runs (the Burn at Snowmass anyone?...Bueller?... Bueller?). OK, now, how many of you will always use a helmet now? That better be everyone. I mean, when an easy fall on a beginner slope in a ski lesson can result in death within 24 hours, what chance do the rest of us have? I thank my lucky stars that I haven’t had a serious incident in the 20 plus years I’ve been skiing.

It reminded me of a ski trip several years back. A bunch of us were night skiing at Key Stone. I was skiing with a buddy of mine, Tommy. Tommy was kind of a funny skier in that he didn’t like to make turns. The dude just pointed his skis downhill and accelerated until he got to the bottom of a run. I was always a little concerned about his control and made sure to give him a wide birth while skiing with him.

In any event, we are at the top of a run. The lighting is not the best at night, particularly near the edges of the run, next to the tree line. Of course, with a day full of skiing, that’s were the better, less skied snow still lay. I had checked out the snow along the edges on a prior run and told Tommy to follow me down the edge. We tore down the slope, at high speed, very close to that tree line. One mistake and we were goners. I knew that; Tommy knew that; but we didn’t care. We tore that run up from the top of Keystone Mountain all the way to the gondola. At the bottom of the mountain, we turned to each other and laughed hard. We knew we were playing with possible death being so close to the tree line in the dark. But, it was a glorious run. I know, a stupid guy thing. I’m probably lucky to be alive and, yes, I will not be doing that again. We both knew it at the time. We were f-ing with death and laughed it in the face.

A couple of years ago, Tommy came down with liver cancer. It’s not a cancer that has a good survival rate. In a little over a year, Tommy was dead. We all hope that faced with a near certain death, that we would buck up, live our last days well, and appreciate are friends and family. Tommy did not do this. He was a "death-metal' guy and didn’t take his death sentence well. He became bitter and depressed. I felt bad that he chose to deal with his situation the way that he did. I would hope that I would handle the situation differently, but you can’t judge anyone’s approach to their final days. Thus, my memory of Tommy’s last days was sadness. Sadness that he couldn’t find peace and acceptance of his end. Sadness too, that I pulled away somewhat because I couldn’t deal with watching him be bitter and depressed at the end.

Natasha Richardson’s tragic death caused me to remember that crazy time with Tommy doing a stupid run way too fast at night way too close to the tree line. It reminded me of our laughs and knowing grins at each other that we had done a stupid, death defying guy thing, and that we were brothers in the way that all guys doing stupid guy things are brothers. It reminded me of Tommy the way he was before death and dying changed him.

That memory of one of our good times together brought Tommy back to me. I moved through the memory of the sad, angry and depressed Tommy, back to the fun loving guy I had know and considered a good friend. Joseph Campbell expressed a philosophy that those family and friends of ours that have died, are not truly gone so long as we remember them. We know how they thought and felt. You can guess what they would say and advise you if they were still alive. You don’t have to believe in an afterlife or heaven forbid, communication with them. But, we do communicate with their essence. They can remain in our hearts and minds. We keep them alive, at least for us.

As my memory of Tommy in his final days blocked out the good times we had together, he was dead to me. With that night time ski run brought back to me, my thought was: Tommy’s not dead. It was like it happened yesterday. He was so real and alive in my recall of that moment, that laugh, that smile, that he was alive to me again. Call me a little nuts, but I got my friend back yesterday.

So, remember your friends and loved one that have gone before you. Keep their memories alive. Keep them in your hearts. Of course, cherish your loved ones and friends that are still here. We never know how much time we have left with each other. And put on those ski helmets....and bike helmets too, for that matter. And remember: smoking kills. Some times in the strangest of ways.

Tomorrow, I run the Riverwalk 5 Mile Run. It's put on by the Junior League, which puts on an amazing after race feed. Strawberry pancakes with cream anyone? I'll be thinking of my buddy Tommy while I run. I'll also think about my brother Jim, who passed away years ago. He got me into this whole running/biking thing years ago. Every time I do an endurance event, it reminds me of how good it is to be alive. I'll think of that too.