Ironman Wisconsin – Friday

I’m sitting in my hotel staring out at Lake Monona, with a million thoughts on my mind. We got into Madison yesterday and this place and the weather are absolutely beautiful.

We checked in this morning and now it’s time to rest, wait, and . . . think.

One of the things I always think about before a race is that it always seems foreign until you get onto the course. When I watched at Louisville, I somehow felt inferior or like I wasn’t up to speed with the athletes, but that is obviously false.

Pre-game jitters and doubts are just a crazed part of being an athlete. They will be there, and if they aren’t, you’re probably not human.

As I stare at that water, it looks intimidating, but it’s just water. The same kind of water we have swam in a hundred times this year. But it may take until we get in to remember that simple face.

As I drove the bike course yesterday, I thought, this is one f-ng crazy bike course! People said it was full of relentless hills and it’s hard to know what that means until you see it. Let me tell you, it is full of relentless hills. But, I feel like it’s more imposing when you are sitting on your ass in the comfort of a car. Once the blood starts rushing, we’ll be saying, “Bring it on.”

And as I walk around portions of this run course with cold legs, I ask myself, how in the hell am I going to run around this town for that long? I have no idea, but as the guy at the expo said, “the body is an incredible machine, it can do more than you think.” So, okay, man, I’m banking on it.

I’ve been writing about this stuff for a year now and it’s almost here. My official wrist band is fastened, the numbers are on my bike, and my lime green swim cap rests in the corner. We’ll do a quick practice set tomorrow, then before we know it we’ll be waking up at 4 o’clock Sunday morning to tackle one of the biggest challenges of our lives. And, I don’t know about the other guys, but I’ll be doing it with a big smile, no matter how much it hurts.

Welcome To Wisconsin #IMWI

The plan was to leave Tuesday night at 6:00, stay in a hotel 4 hours out of Nashville, then be in Wisconsin by noon. It didn’t quite work out that way.

We ended up leaving Nashville around 7:00, had to eat, deal with the dog, and only made it about 3 hours and stayed in Marion, Illinois, which seems to have cornered the non-traditional tourism market by housing both a VA hospital and a prison. Wednesday drive took about six hours and we got to Wisconsin about 3:30.welcome to wis

Rolled into my parents and, as luck would have it, there was a swim meet going on at the public pool I could literally see from my bedroom as a child. I walked over and got a little pre-race motivation from the kids. beloit pool

Dad manned the grill and turned out some amazing burgers before we settled down at in the War Room and went over mom’s plans for the Ironman spectators. maps central

So, anyway, honestly, I love my mother, but her computer is really testing my patience right now, so I will soon be in Madison, and give a couple more updates before Sunday. Thanks for hanging around all year and I can assure you this blog will continue after the race. I just learned 29 people from our training team are signed up for IM Chattanooga next year, so there will be endless fodder.

As always, I’d like to give a special thanks to my Uncle Kenny.

6 Days Out from #IMWI

Ironman Wisconsin is six days away, are you ready?  Of course you are, and it can’t come soon enough.

I’m leaving Nashville Tuesday after work.  I plan to drive about four or five hours and get a hotel so I can keep my sleep schedule on track.  Then we’ll leave early in the morning and get to parent’s house around noon on Wednesday.  I’ll go for a short 30 minute run around my childhood neighborhood, then kick back with mom and dad to plan their spectator day.  (And yes, I’m open for suggestions from anyone who has great watching places).helix

I’m still not sure my family fully understand what’s going to happen on race day, but it’s impossible to know until you see it for yourself.  It will be a very long day and while Ironman is a slow, drawn-out race, the story unfolds with amazing speed.

* There are some really cool shots from Ironman Wisconsin at this Flickr feed, including the two below: 4983197833_dd12927dcb_zThe energy before the swim will be off the charts.  Friends and family will watch as 3,000 swimmers wade into Lake Monona and float for 15-20 minutes.  Then, the cannon . . . followed by a mad rush of energy for racers and an anxiety ridden test of patience for those on shore.  Then the emergence from the swim.  What a moment.  It’s hard to explain the excitement of watching someone you know rush out of the water then disappear into transition.

4983798386_51b39c6c3b_zFans will catch a brief glimpse as we spiral down the helix and leave for the hills.  It will be another mystical moment, followed by a calm and re-group.  They will walk to their cars as we begin our 112 mile journey.

The cars will park in Verona and the waiting game starts again.  Then, out of nowhere, like a magic trick, we will fly by them on the bike.  They will feel their hearts pulse, full of excitement and another bit of relief.  IronTrac or My Athlete Live will keep them up to speed on our progress as they settle in with the party, which I expect to be rockin’.

We will manifest once more, then be gone.  A rush, followed by relief, followed by calm and a long walk to the car and a trip back to Madison.

They will negotiate their spots and wait for us to return from this long, mysterious ride.  They will be looking in our eyes for weakness, hoping it is nowhere to be seen.  Several times they will project themselves into our shoes and be baffled by the idea of swinging our leg off the bike and deciding to run a full marathon.

We will dismount our bikes, gather our bearings, then slowly jog past them on the last leg of this monster.  Parading our vulnerability in front of thousands on State Street and banking their encouragement to get us over the next hump, and the next . . . and the next.

I will tell them to bring chairs because, in a different way, walking and standing that long can be just as hard as doing an Ironman.  Rest your legs while watching.  We need you fresh.

I expect to hear and see people I know many times on the run course and believe me, it will be a huge boost.  It all comes down to the run.  I keep wondering what that second loop will feel like.  When will I feel like “I’m on my way home?”  Mile 14, mile 18, mile 22?

Either way, this run is very intriguing to me because after mile 14 it will all be uncharted territory.  I will be an explorer who never knows what awaits around the next corner.  The sheer fear and excitement are both why I came.  The unknown is absolutely enchanting.

And so many people will be watching as the story unfolds.  A long, slow drama that comes to a fascinating and unpredictable conclusion, for all of us.

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6 Days Out Lesson – Neighbor James

I think I told you about day 6 before when we was both on our weed eaters out front.  Day 6 is some shit cause you start thinkin’ bout runnin’ away and hidin’ in dumpsters or at ya Grandma’s crib.  Ain’t gonna work.  You gotta get ya head straight and start hearin’ the music right.  They warmin’ up the symphony and your ears betta get used to them sour notes.

Who Am I To Think You Care? #IMWI

I realize that triathlon lifestyle is new, fresh, and exciting to me.  I also understand that I don’t “know” everything.  In fact, I know nothing.  I’m just trying to learn and become more in tune with my life, body, and what it all means.  And I think deep down we are all about the same.

We want the same things.  To feel safe, happy, and loved.  It’s not about money, or shiny objects.  When you have friends, a good circle of inspiration, and support, that’s really all that matters.

Triathlon isn’t about the races.  They are certainly a benchmark for the work and effort, but races are just numbers.  Getting to race day is what it’s all about.

I have no idea how many hours or miles I’ve put into race Ironman Wisconsin, and honestly it doesn’t really matter.  The whole process is what matters because after I cross that finish line, the race is over.

What will happen if all of this was only about the medal?  The highest of highs followed by the lowest of lows.  Will I need another target or will I realize that I am still moving toward something bigger and more important that can never be described as something with form?

For years I have talked about what I call “designing my lifestyle,” and in all honesty, signing up for Ironman was a forced step in that direction.  My life was becoming loose and unfocused, but most importantly, unsatisfying.  It was filled with delusions and big, optimistic fantasies you discuss on a bar stool.

Oh, I had fleeting moments that “appeared” like the right direction, but, I’d always get hooked by a long cane like the Vaudeville player that wasn’t performing.  I’d return to the stage, only to get cancelled again.  Nothing stuck.

Ironman training has, in many ways, given me a renewed legitimacy to be myself.  I know that sounds drastic, but I have worked very hard and hard work is really what it comes down to in life.  You chip away the rust and something new emerges.

When I signed up for Wisconsin, I felt like an impostor.  I wasn’t an Ironman, who was I kidding?  But thousands of hours later, I know I belong.  Preparation breeds confidence.

I have gone from someone who “thought” they could finish Ironman, to someone who knows they will finish.  That is a huge distinction because I think most of us believe we can start a business or climb a mountain, but do we know we can?

All of these ideas, all of these dreams, are nothing without action.

As I get closer to the race I am reminded of something a random guy said to me, “The problem with most people is they get caught up in this concept of ‘premature optimization’ and nothing ever happens.”

We can plan all day, all night and the next day, but nothing will ever happen until we actually do something, or move toward a finish line.

We need to jump in that pool and swim two laps before we’ll ever understand what it takes to swim 2.4 miles.  And let me tell you, it takes a lot.  It takes a shit load of swimming to get your mind and body in that place.  But, wow, what a feeling it is when you know you can swim that far.  Or bike 112 or run a marathon.

I have heard it a million times.  “I could never swim 2.4 miles,” and it always reminds me of the famous quote, “Whether you believe you can or cannot do something, you are probably right.”

Who am I to think I can write a blog about triathlon training?  Who am I to think I can finish an Ironman?  Who am I to think any of this matters to you?

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Day 7 Lesson – from my Neighbor James – They say 7 is a lucky number, but when you 7 days out from ya dance, that superstition get all crazy up in ya head.  I was wearin the same socks all week and momma was like, “Damn, boy, I bought u some new socks and you gotta go stinkin up the house cause you worried bout your tap dancin.”  She was right, cuz my feet stunk like the trunk of your damn car, Mike.  Ain’t no pair of socks gonna win that race.  Change that shit up.