Month: November 2012

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Prelude to Lock 4 Six Hour Challenge

Note:  This is the set up for the actual Lock 4 Six Hour Challenge story.  That post should be directly above this one.  

Sometime back in the late 80’s I bought my first mountain bike and got hooked.  It was a mint celeste Bianchi Sika, which I still have to this day.  I road that thing all over LaCrosse, Wisconsin during my second 5 years of college.  Eventually I got the the serious bug and decided to tackle a race on my home turf, which was a 10 mile loop up and down the ski hill named, “Mount LaCrosse.”

A friend of mine at the time, Mark Frise, was a pretty heavy road biker who had just ridden from Milwaukee to Eau Claire and back just to qualify for Race Across America.  He was hardcore and told me he reached down to pull a leaf from his wheel ten miles out of Milwaukee and cut his finger wide open on the spoke.  Mark was my first exposure to genuine endurance athletes and their inspiring qualities.

Anyway, the 10 mile Mount LaCrosse trail was split into 3 sections.  Uphill, which was 7 miles, the cross-path was 1.5 miles on the side of a hill in foot tall grass.  The remaining 1.5 miles was straight down a ski slope.  It was an absolute brutal ride and I was so tired by the time I got to the downhill I was literally leaning over the front handle bars to get enough leverage on my breaks to slow down, which wasn’t going so well.

I was plowing over moguls and dodging trees at top speed.  This was one of those moments when you believe your life is truly endangered.  I was way behind the pack, so screaming like a little girl wasn’t really a problem.  I thought for sure I was going to break through the chalet doors and literally crash a wedding, but somehow I gained control and steered toward the start line, and my second lap.

There weren’t many people around and I had about 500 yards of flat ground to gain my composure.  It wasn’t easy.  I was a battered man, fighting back tears and ready for bed.  I made a quick and sound decision– I was going to coast my ass right off the course and into the parking lot, never to be seen again.

I immediately felt relief and looked forward to private time with my futon followed by a night on 3rd Street with my drinkin’ buddies.  It was an awesome feeling.  But just then, I saw someone running toward me, shouting my name.  “That a boy, Mike!  Nice job.  Only one more to go!!!”

I was like, who the fuck is this guy jacking up my perfect plan?  It was Mark Frise, the man who had just ridden 500 miles in 30 hours.  I had just ridden 10, and was wiping slobber from my lips.

“Hey, Mark . . . what are you doing here?”

“I came to support you man!  You got this!”

“Uh, well, yeah . . . Okay.”

I wanted to quit so badly.  I knew nothing of cycling nutrition and hadn’t eaten that morning.  I stared at the “mountain” and peddled my way back into the woods cursing myself, Mark, and innocent squirrels.

About an hour and a half later I was raging down that same hill, scared for my life, but somehow managed to pull it together and coast toward the end.  I looked for Mark, but didn’t see him.  I didn’t see anyone for that matter and as I zeroed in on the finish line, I noticed they were literally taking it down.  I was crushed, but inched my way closer.  I wanted to shout “Wait!,” but just then, I heard the PA announcer.

“Hold on a minute, ladies and gentlemen, we have another finisher!*  It’s . . . number 87, Mike Tarrolly from LaCrosse, Wisconsin!”

People rushed back from the bar, their bikes, their cars and gave me a rousing ovation.  I was moved beyond belief.  Then someone pulled me off my bike and gave me a big bear hug.  It was Mark, and I power of that moment helps me push on every time I struggle with a ride.

*At first I felt like a total loser for coming in while they were taking down the finish line, but in reality 90 people started that race and I took 45th place.  Half of the field quit.

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My Great Ab Workout

This is kind of fun.  I picked up Mattie (short for Matisse) from a rescue shelter about a year and a half ago and she immediately proved to be a great workout partner.  I should note, this video was made about the time I started running and the transformation since that time is quite amazing.

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Ironman Inspiration

Surround yourself with inspirational people.  Even the simplest thing can lift you to greater things.  For me it’s when someone unleashes a buried passion.

Daniel, gettin’ it done

On Wednesday, I ran with the East Nasties and the power of a group cannot be underestimated.  It’s amazing how a bunch of motivated people can take your mind off limitations.  I had been limping around thinking about my wanky knee for weeks, but the minute we took off, the energy of 250 people took me away.

I trudged along at a 9:30 pace, but just being out there again felt great and restored my faith.  We ran about four miles and by the end my knee was an afterthought.  I felt like I could knock out a half marathon, I went to 3 Crow Bar for some Guinness.  Sometimes, I think our higher powers forgive a couple post-run-beers.

My first conversation is usually with Jim.  He got me into this mess and now I poke and prod for stimulating insight at every turn.  His run was much faster and he rattled off a list of plans for his Saturday.  P90x in the morning, followed by a 9mile run, 8 o’clock bed time, then a 1:50 am 5K as an overnight Ragnar Relay simulation.  All of this, and his foot has been bugging him for weeks.  “Sometimes you gotta work through the pain.”

I hear that, buddy!

Then there’s Kevin.  I watched as he did Ironman Louisville this summer which ultimately sealed my decision to take on Wisconsin.  He routinely leads a pace group for East Nasty runs, is doing Ragnar, then following it up with the ball busting Flying Monkey marathon 7 days later.  Between all that, he parties like a rock star.

I’m listening, bro!

As I was walking out of 3 Crow, I ran into a couple women that started the Couch to 5K program with me back in January.  Both are running further than ever, and it’s likely that neither realizes their role in my success.  One caught me a little off guard when she said she’s been studying to be a yoga instructor, and it’s things like this that truly make me happy.

Ironman Wisconsin training teammate, Mark

I think it’s because I love when people people follow a passion.  I’ve spent a lifetime working on ways to improve my life, my habits, and my instincts.  When someone shares a story like this, it literally strengthens my bond with humanity.  Knowing we’re in this together is extremely comforting.

So, when I stop by Ugly Mugs every morning and see Andy and Matt working on their dream business before they go to a job, it jump starts my day.  When I see workout posts from fellow Ironman Wisconsin teammates, Mark and Daniel, I dig deeper.  And when I read inspirational posts of fellow bloggers it drives me to keep releasing my thoughts to the world.  The words, the actions, the people lift me higher and fill in the blanks to this mysterious quest for higher purpose.

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Running is King

I hated running and could fake a cry with the best of them if it would help me avoid jogging in gym class or later in sports.

But I loved biking, and did a bunch of mountain bike races, including Chequamegon Fat Tire 40 in Hayward, Wisconsin.  And while I have you, I’ll drop a reminder that I placed 1,500th out of 3,000 racers.  Exactly in the middle and 1,499 places behind Greg Lemond.

I swam a little bit, too.  My parent’s house was half a block away from the municipal pool in Beloit, Wisconsin and I spent loads of time hitting on girls and hiding boners in the shallow end. I love water, and while I was never a distance swimmer, I’ve always made time for a few laps at the local Y.

But running was a nemesis.

Frankly, it hurt.  My ankles have always been fragile and anything more than a dash to first base or out to play shortstop was too much.  In baseball we mainly ran sprints to loosen up and the teams I was on never overdid such tomfoolery.

Now, though, I realize that I missed the boat.  A little bit of distance running would have made me a better athlete, especially late in the game when the legs go south.  If I were ever a coach again, I would have to pull some hocus pocus out of my bag to convince the kids they need to run more.

Running is still hard.  It still aches the most of the three sports, but it is without a doubt the reason I have started triathlons.

Once I erased the mental baggage of running, everything else fell into place.  But I could have never done it without the Couch to 5K program.  I always went too far too fast and quit.

If you hate running, but have a perverted desire to do it anyway, I suggest you take it very slow and follow a Couch to 5K program to the letter.  No more.  No less.  Stay within yourself and let your muscles build naturally.

Without those seemingly inconsequential 60 second jogs back in January, Ironman Wisconsin never would have crossed my mind.  Running can be a bitch, but in my triathlete world, it is the real work.

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Clandestine Love in the World of Spam

I am amazed and delighted that WordPress filters spam messages so I don’t have to look at them.  But, when I do, it only reaffirms, that I am loved.

Take this gem from Maragret:

I am very happy to read this. This is the kind of manual that needs to be given and not the accidental misinformation that is at the other blogs. Appreciate your sharing this greatest doc.

Or this thought provoking tease from Adena:

Utterly indited content material, Really enjoyed reading through.

Who am I to turn down these pearls of wisdom from Burberry trench coat sale:

Never mind.I really think a little exercise would do you good.Keep your temper under control.If you would only try, you could do it.That’s a good idea.I am too tired to speakIt is not so easy as you think.It doesn’t make any sense to get up so earlyHow much does it cost? The editor over looked a print error.

And just when you are about to give up, sincerity oozes from someone like dresses coast:

Dude.. I am not a great deal into checking, but somehow I had to read a lot of articles upon your blog. Its awesome how interesting its for me to see you more often then not.

So, as you see, inspiration is everywhere, even in your Spam Bucket.

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A Picture is Worth Dozens of Pounds

My good friend Roger is 5 weeks away from running his first marathon and has a photograph of me to thank.  Actually he was in the picture too, and what happened to us that blurry night was an undeniable catalyst for change.

Our friendship started innocently enough around two years ago when Roger and I (Both Wisconsin natives) hatched the grand plan for Badger Nation Nashville at the Village Pub in Inglewood, TN.  Wisconsin football was on a roll and we wanted to capitalize by using beer and cheese to seduce local residents into our social circle.  After several PBRs we penned these highly sophisticated, yet simple bylaws that have Constitution-like staying power:

Official Badger Nation Nashville Bylaws

1. No rooting against the Badgers.
2. Spread word of the Badger.
3. Don’t shoot badgers. (Ben’s Law)*
4. Don’t diss Jeffrey Steele.
5. Meet at Village Pub & Grill when you can make it.

Fast forward two years after the “bylaw meeting” to my house, where a nice group of Badger Nation Nashville kids are celebrating another big victory.  Roger and I had been drinking for about 8 hours and decided to give everyone a treat by singing Wisconsin’s Alma Mater song, “Varsity,” which was quickly caught on video.  The playback was astonishing.

I had always felt pretty good about my body, but when I watched the video all I could see was a blubbery seal flopping around on a leather sofa.  I begged fellow BNN member, Brian, not to post it on the web and thankfully he didn’t know how.  I went silent and may have even retreated to my bedroom to sulk. What I didn’t realize at the time was, the video had a similar impact on Roger.

It didn’t happen immediately, but our minds shifted to training mode.  Roger joined Weight Watchers and started running.  I laid around for a few more weeks before Jim convinced me to do Couch to 5K training.  I really didn’t want to run, but that video looped in the back of my mind. For the first time in my life I felt like a fat ass!  I had no choice.

I have told this story a bunch of times and I’m convinced that taking a picture of yourself is the best form of motivation.  Preferably late in the night after a drinking or eating binge.

Now, Roger and I are hatching different plans.  Five short months after that fateful photography, we did the Country Music Half Marathon together and the ante continues to rise.

What started as a 5K for me has turned into Ironman training.  Roger is ready for his full, with aspirations of a Half Ironman next summer.

It has been a dicey journey that started on a bar napkin and evolved into something etched in stone.  And even though the Badgers suck this year, I think Roger would happily join me for an encore rendition of Varsity after the last game of the season.

* Montana Ben is a Pub regular who spends his summers in Montana shooting badgers so they don’t fuck with his cattle.

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A Zen Wake Up Call

Sometimes when I think how good my book can be, I can hardly breathe.
–Truman Capote

The good news is . . . my IT Band pain seems to be gone.  The bad news is . . . I absolutely sucked on my swim tonight.

I realize bad nights are imminent, but this was just an awful performance.  I could barely breathe, and swimming three measly laps in a row was kicking my ass.  After some serious staring at the ceiling, I have concluded it must be one or a combination of these three things:

1.  Horrible eating
2.  Too much beer
3.  Watching an Ultra Marathon

Now, I’m pretty sure it’s not the last one–although I did spend about four hours on a bike.  The bad diet and party train, however, are likely suspects.

I’m not gonna sit here and labor over my transgressions, but I need to realize training is fragile.  I put serious effort into strengthening and working through my IT band when I could barely walk, and tonight’s swim is a hard slap in the nuts to keep my diet in check.

An Ironman is no joke and on nights like this, I realize that, not only would I not have finished, I would have likely drowned before the first buoy.  And while I am a little pissed about the performance, I’m glad it happened.

Learning and forgiveness are the core of my training.  I won’t learn everything overnight and I have to forgive myself when I don’t.

My memory is short and I tend to cheat the present by not being the best I can in that moment.  But the goal is to learn a little more every day and the accumulation of those lessons will be the payoff in training, health, and life.

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Nashville Ultra Marathon

They write books about this shit and several people I know have claimed to have done the deed, but until yesterday, I have never seen anyone actually DO an ultra marathon.  I was out there bright and early in effort to feel better about myself by volunteering.  My job on this day was to be a “bike monitor.”

I was supposed to show up at race time then sort of follow, or as it probably seemed “lurk” around runners for four hours.  I had no uniform or special sign distinguishing me from the other creepo bike riders, and i’m not gonna lie, it was a little awkward.

Me:  “Hey there, sorry for cutting you off, how are you?”

Random Runner:  “Urg!  I’m fine!”

Me:  “I’m volunteering, so I thought I’d ask.”

Random Runner:  “Oh, I wondered what the hell you were doing.  Thank you!!”

Me:  “Lookin good!”

The more I contemplated my task, the more I reasoned it was a little on the useless side considering I was monitoring Ultra Marathoners for their first 12 or so miles, which seemed a little like making sure a drunk can handle his first few beers.  But I kept focus and rode nearly 30 miles while peering into runner’s eyes for the slightest sign of weakness.

If there was hesitation I would cozy up close and point my water bottle toward their mouth.

“Sure you don’t want some water?!?”

“No, get the hell away from me.”

I decided the best thing I could do was make sure I knew where the last runner was and when I saw him, I had no idea who I had uncovered.  He had a big arch in his back and his style was unique to say the least.

I asked if he was doing okay, and he mumbled something about a “challenging climb” and forged ahead.  I rode away moderately confused and kept peeking over my shoulder to see if he was still standing.

When I got back to the start line (which all runners passed on their way to the other the back end of the race) I told organizers “There are 7 runners left on the course, including a guy that . . .”  And was interrupted with, “Oh, that’s Eugene, he’ll be fine.”

Eugene is 76 and was using an intriguing run/walk method where he’d run for two steps and walk for three or something like that.  I couldn’t quite figure out the strategy, but evidently it works because he has completed over 400 marathon or longer runs in his life!

If we put that into perspective and assume he didn’t start running marathons until he was 26, that’s eight marathons a year for 50 straight years!  Not only that, several of them were ultra marathons.  I noticed he was wearing a 50 States Finisher shirt and someone told me that he’s done that four times!  How’s that make you feel about your life experience?

If that wasn’t enough, I got to meet the 50K winner, who humbly knocked it out in three hours and twenty minutes (unofficial).  That’s about a 6:26 per mile pace and I’m telling you there were some bastard hills on this route.  My thighs were killing me and I was on a bike.

Ten months ago I could barely run to the mail box, and now, after watching an Ultra Marathon, I can see myself doing one at some point.  It won’t happen until after the Ironman, but it certainly seems possible.  Amazing what we can do if we put our mind to something.  If you don’t believe me, just ask Eugene.

Question of the Day:  I need to ask you all a question though.  There were several, I mean upwards of 25% of the people in this race that were walking often before mile 10.  I guess I don’t really understand why you would do an ultra when there are plenty of shorter races out there that you can run?

Ultra Marathon Day Diet:  Sun chips, mini-snickers (from aid station).  Grilled Cheese and potato tots from the Grilled Cheeserie Truck. Budweiser Tall Boy.  Fat Bottom Burger, 2 Pale Ales, Multiple Guinness, and a Schlitz in a bottle at Family Wash.  This must have been a cheat day.

Side note:  I Googled “Running Calculator” but typed in “Runny” by mistake and it led me to a calculator that tells you how you may have gotten your runny nose.

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Should the NYC Marathon Have Been Canceled?

The NYC Marathon has just been canceled and I’m not sure it’s the best call.  It was obviously a tough decision (and I realize I am commenting from the outside), but events like this can give community energy and help with the rebuilding process.  Not to mention there will be tens of thousands of extra hands to help out before and after the race.

This situation reminds me of a letter my old General Manager had framed on his wall when I worked for the Indianapolis Indians. It was written by FDR and sent to Kenesaw Landis, Commissioner of Major League Baseball at the time.  It is now called, “The Green Light Letter” and was in response to a question of whether or not MLB should cancel the baseball season during the war:

My dear Judge:

Thank you for yours of January fourteenth. As you will, of course, realize the final decision about the baseball season must rest with you and the Baseball club owners – so what I am going to say is solely a personal and not an official point of view.

I honestly feel that it would be best for the country to keep baseball going. There will be fewer people unemployed and everybody will work longer hours and harder than ever before.

And that means that they ought to have a chance for recreation and for taking their minds off their work even more than before.

Baseball provides a recreation which does not last over two hours or two hours and a half, and which can be got for very little cost. And, incidentally, I hope that night games can be extended because it gives an opportunity to the day shift to see a game occasionally.

As to the players themselves, I know you agree with me that the individual players who are active military or naval age should go, without question, into the services. Even if the actual quality to the teams is lowered by the greater use of older players, this will not dampen the popularity of the sport. Of course, if an individual has some particular aptitude in a trade or profession, he ought to serve the Government. That, however, is a matter which I know you can handle with complete justice.

Here is another way of looking at it – if 300 teams use 5,000 or 6,000 players, these players are a definite recreational asset to at least 20,000,000 of the fellow citizens – and that in my judgment is thoroughly worthwhile.

With every best wish,

Very sincerely yours,

Franklin D. Roosevelt

I lived through the Nashville floods a few years ago, so, on some level, I understand what the Northeast is going through.  Several people have lost their possessions, homes, and lives.  This is a brutal experience and I completely empathize for everyone who has been affected.  But as New York knows all too well, and we saw in Nashville, there is no choice but to move on.

New York’s race is the largest in the world, and if you’ve ever watched a marathon, you know how inspirational they are.  The Country Music Marathon ran by my house every year and after watching, I was always ready to tackle the world and change my life.

I really feel having thousands of runners and spectators embracing streets that were just ravaged by a storm is a symbolic way to say, “This is our home.  We will not give in.”

Marathon runners touch lives all the time.  They are people who have committed to a very difficult challenge.  I don’t see how it can hurt to have 40,000 people with that type of character on your side.