May 2014 – Page 3

May 6, 2014

My Pro Bono Endorsement of Kiwami at Rev3 Knoxville

For some reason, sponsors have not been lining up to get behind a marginal mid-life triathlete who blogs from his mother’s basement, so I’ve decided to turn the tables and openly endorse Kiwami by wearing this beautiful kit at Rev3 Knoxville. There’s nothing like putting on a new outfit to pump up your day, and here’s hoping this bad boy feels like a million bucks while I’m touring Rocky Top. Now, this post should in no way signify that I am closing the door to future sponsors. In fact, I continue to seduce Pearl Izumi shoes and Swiftwick socks on a daily basis. So if you know anyone at their Headquarters, let them know I am not beyond stocking shelves to secure the privilege of wearing their logo. Hell, as Kiwami just found out, I may even pay to do it.

I have even turned to video to prove to Swiftwick that I have the guts to stand tall for their mighty sock in the face of a questionable swimming injury. (Start at the :50 mark if you simply want the good stuff).

May 6, 2014

Rev3 Knoxville Looms – Pre Race "Report"

I guess it’s time to start talking about Rev3 Knoxville. My buddy Jim and I will be doing the Olympic with Katherine (along with a few Knox girls) while Corey, Marc, and Wasky are gearing up for the Half. Should be a good ole’ fashion showdown on both fronts.

They’ve made a couple changes to the race this year, including moving the location for transition. It used to be about a .66 mile run (according to Corey’s Garmin) from the water to your bike, but it looks like that distance will now be cut in half. The other change escapes me . . . but maybe it’s the weather?

Last year it was 56 degrees and rained the entire race. Portions of the run were literally through knee-deep-water. Frankly, I kinda thought it was awesome, but unfortunately it doesn’t look like we’ll be that lucky again. Here’s a finish line shot from that glorious day, which made my list of favorite photos from last year. My buddy Corey was there for the fun last year and I think he still has scars. The water temp was 53 degrees and it made for a dicey start to his long-distance triathlon career. But racing in terrible weather can only make you better. He took the hard-nock-Knoxville and turned it into a sub-12 Ironman at Louisville. You can read about Corey’s heroics here.

I had a good race in Knoxville last time and don’t really think I can beat that time. I’m sure I’d be more confident if I was actually training, but doing New Orleans took a little bit of steam out of the little bit of steam I had going. I think knowing that I’m doing the Olympic is a bit of a relief. Which . . . is pretty damn funny when you think of it.

Less than two years ago an Olympic triathlon seemed, not only unreasonable, but unthinkable. Now I’m approaching it like a stroll in the park. No matter how you slice it, that’s a really good feeling.

I’m pretty comfortable with the swim (though I missed this morning’s workout). I’m still a mystery on the bike (I tend to view the bike as a strength but New Orleans put a big seed of doubt in my brain). The run is . . . well, likely dependent on my bike (but I do feel pretty confident I’ll actually be able to stand up after my ride this time).

I will be in Knoxville on Friday night anxiously awaiting the opening of the Expo and the mandatory athlete meeting. Considering the conditions last year (and the fact that they rejected my application to be a team ambassador) I thought Rev3 put on an awesome race and I’m looking forward to seeing how they do when it’s 95 degrees and sunny.

May 6, 2014

The Guilt in Missing Workouts

The Ironman Train never stops.

As I write these words, my team is toweling off after a beautiful morning swim at the lake. I overslept.

This has been a fairly common theme in my training, but I am getting much better at dealing with the guilt. In the not-so-distant past I would have looked at the clock, eased into a mildly depressed state, and went back to sleep. Today, I instinctively viewed waking up at 5:50 am as a win.

Anyone who knows me well understands my struggles with waking up. My childhood bedroom was in the basement of my parents home. It was my cave and sleeping was a sport.

In high school, my best friend was quarterback for the football team and he desperately wanted me to be his go-to receiver. We had an unspoken connection and I could catch anything he threw my way. Every summer, as we neared the start of two-a-day football practice, his lobbying became more intense because he knew he was fighting my disdain for early mornings. Our football connection wasn’t meant to be.

He always stopped by after his morning practice and by noon I was usually wishing I would have gone. I was lathered in guilt because I really did want to play, but my body just couldn’t respond to the idea of getting my ass kicked that early.

I heard it all. “The morning is the best time to get things done,” and “We do more before 9 am than most people do all day,” but it never registered. I was always great at getting things done at night, but it was typically watching TV or drinking.

A history of waking up late lays a great foundation for Ironman training because you’re always trying to catch up. That guilt is familiar.

Slowly but surely I have been reversing that trend. I have learned to trust my body and take advantage of the moment, regardless of whether or not that means working out. This morning it meant walking the dog, taking out trash, cleaning the kitchen and writing a half-assed blog post by 7:30.

Winning at Ironman (or life) doesn’t happen overnight. It’s comes with a consistent focus on “right effort.” Moving toward the prize and accepting that you won’t always hit your mark.

Evolving is hard and often makes no sense. The pay off from frustration and pain is hard to see. We get stuck in the moment, put life on hold, and wallow in our underachievement.

Like you, I have put tons of effort and hours into training. I have clipped and dove in on frigid mornings. I have sweltered through painful runs and battled exhaustion.

There have been many low points, but we keep bouncing back. Moving toward the seemingly elusive goal of an actualized body, mind, and spirit. Pushing our limits each to become capable of doing things we never dreamed we could do. Taking right action, even in the smallest ways.

There should be no guilt in that.

May 4, 2014

This is a Pain in the Calves

A few days ago I was relishing in glory of my newly found calf pain after running in my old shoes. I rallied on and on about how excited I was to have triggered my fast twitch muscles for the first time in years. It was glorious!

Well, the masochist in me is rejoicing louder than before because my calves feel like I have two squirrels nesting in my flesh. I haven’t been this sore since my first day of Pop Warner football practice. It reminds me of a cramp I got jumping out of the pool after 4,000 meters one night. I’m nearly immobile!

The Zen Master inside of me is whispering, “A life without pain is a life un-lived” while the practical priest is imploring me to get my dumb ass on a massage table. The life of direct apprehension is never a picnic.

But we press on because difficult decisions seem to be the backbone of life. If Ironman was easy, everyone would do it. Come to think of it, if life were easy, everyone would do it.

May 3, 2014

Unusual Mental Habits of a Triathlete

Since I started training for triathlon, I’ve developed an unusual obsession of assigning real life events values that are equivalent to my workouts. Today was a prime example.

I had to return an HDMI cable for my Apple TV to Kmart (Yes, they are still around) and I’m not sure I can explain the physiological toll it took on me. The mere thought of wading through this challenge was so stressful I contemplated whether or not even needed Apple TV in the first place.

Simply going to Kmart is about as heart wrenching as organizing your bike gear, filling water bottles, and driving 30 minutes to Natchez Trace to ride. The difference being, the scenery at Kmart doesn’t take your mind off the pain.

Kmart’s are so run down that chaos pours into the parking lot and any sort of flow or order is thrown to the wolves. I played the game by driving up the wrong lane and backing into my stall for a quick exit.

I stormed straight to the counter and delivered a romantic eye to the overweight lady wearing an untucked pink polo. She responded to my advance by turning around to lean on the back shelf. I was perplexed.

Normally my charm can sweep away a customer service representative, but today I was struggling. After 30 seconds, she turned to face me with deep breaths that were more in line with the last minutes of life than pre-orgasm. Her eyes turned inward as she fought to remain calm. I asked if she was alright.

“Yes, forgive me. I just walked up here from the back of the store and I’m out of breath.”

Now, Kmart’s are decent sized stores, but they’re no Walmart. She was out of breath from walking across the store? I mean, my calves are killing me, but her plight was certainly more urgent.

I said, “No worries,” though I was extremely concerned as she directed me to the back of the store to get the cable I wanted in exchange. I playfully asked, “if she would mind getting it for me?” and let me tell you, that did not go over well.

When I returned to my breathless love, she was helping a fragile old lady while simultaneously yelling at a guy on a scooter. Then she cursed her cash register, “Oh, don’t do this to me or I’ll throw you into the parking lot!”

All of this felt like the equivalent of the first 12 miles on Natchez Trace. A challenging warm up to my day. Still tight, but starting to come alive.

In all seriousness, I did feel for her. I just can’t imagine how difficult it must be to turn around your health so late in life, especially when you’ve spent the last 30 years neglecting yourself. But the body is a remarkable machine and some short term pain goes a long ways.

After an enlightening wait I secured my exchange and left through the in-door, where I almost got run over by another scooter guy having a conversation with the two newspaper-selling Shriners. (What is it with these newspapers??)

“That’s quite a scooter,” said Shriner guy 1.

“Pretty slick,” said the other in a mildly creepy manner.

“Yeah, but it’s so damn slow I can walk faster. I probably don’t need it,” said the man riding the scooter.

Exchanges like this do two things to me: They excite me beyond belief because of their absurdity, and they really make me wonder what the hell is going on in this world.

By the time I got back to the car I had mentally logged 10 more hilly miles on the Trace. It was a rough ride with a couple tempo explosions that raised my pulse. In all, I think my work for the day is done — and there will be little to no more guilt about my general level of exercise.

May 2, 2014

Another Great Open Water Swim Lesson

“My breath gets short, my stroke gets short, and my brain turns into a toy monkey wildly clapping his cymbals.”

I have to give myself a little credit. I’m two-for-two with 6 am lake swims and today was a cold Spring morning begging me to listen to birds from my own little nest. Thankfully I ignored the the voices in my head because I gained a valuable pearl of triathlon wisdom.

The team squeezed into our wetsuits in chilly 48 degree weather before plunging into 62 degree water. We took a nice 400 yard warm up, then a 200 yard easy swim with a couple “pick ups” before settling on the receding beach for an early season time-trial.

Jim went first, followed by Melissa, Annapurna, and me in 10 second spacing. Our goal was to see how fast we could swim the estimated 300 yards, so we could check our improvement later in the summer.

I immediately went into “race mode.”

The first hundred or so I “sensed” I was moving faster (or at least more aggressively than my warm up) but I could also feel myself getting short of breath. As I cornered toward the second buoy I consciously tried to relax, but my arms wouldn’t slow down, I was being TIMED for god sakes, and I’m a competitor.

The last 100 into shore, I did my best to keep a steady groove, but was clearly off my game. I stumbled into the sand and fell down in exhaustion. I felt awful, which is exactly opposite of the reason I want to swim.

Everyone else did another trial, but I passed. I was a weary and knew another round wouldn’t be good for my soul.

I talked through my issues with coach, and as usual he came up with the perfect answer. He said I always look strong and fluid in warm ups, but when I get into a racing mode I start wasting tons of energy by “trying” to go fast, especially when I’m next to another swimmer in the water. I start flailing and lose all rhythm, which is counter productive.

He was 100% right and I immediately felt better about my future.

In all my Ironman swims I have gone out of my way to stay under control. Even to the point of looking back at the sky when I breathe to make sure I’m not rushing my stroke. I have had 3 solid swims because of it.

But, I have also had huge fails in the water. Serious bouts with anxiety and in every case, I have shot out like a canon. My breath gets short, my stroke gets short, and my brain turns into a toy monkey wildly clapping his cymbals. Any speed I may have gained by going out fast is always negated because I’ll eventually tread water or breast stroke in an effort to lower my heart rate.

It makes no sense for me to go out fast. Even in a short time trial.

My time today was 5:19 and I’m pretty sure I could have “cruised” to a 5:29. That’s 10 seconds, or about a minute over the course of a half Ironman. One minute.

It’s a super fine line in the water and I have to be firm on my plan to negative split. In all of my good swims I have gotten stronger (and certainly faster) at the end. This happened naturally and simply because I was more relaxed.

I guess this is another great example in the cycle of wisdom. You learn by doing.

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Sore Calves Update: They are SUPER sore today and it made for tough beach entries and exits today. In fact, on my time trial start I did a face plant while running into the water because I couldn’t get my legs up. I’m still optimistic, however and look forward to a nice run this weekend.

May 1, 2014

The Beauty of Sore Running Muscles

Last night I ran in my Pearl Izumi Streaks for the first time since Goosepond and it was an eye opener. Almost instinctively I was on my mid-foot more than I’d been in months. Felt like I was actually “running” again.

It was a 7.5 mile run and by mile 5 my calves were burning! I threw in a couple tempo-sections and had more natural speed . . . not to mention a general feeling of explosiveness and love in my stride.

I haven’t felt that kind of calf stimulation since I started endurance running. It’s not a “bad” sore, but clearly one of those good workout feelings you get when you’re actually working your muscles. I’ve been routinely running 5-11 miles for the last several months and not once did I have this pulsating burn in my calves.

The Streaks are more of a shorter distance shoe with less padding and “rise.” I have been training in the Pearl Izumi N1’s and for some reason they’ve always felt like a padded boat. It didn’t “hurt” as much, but I never felt that light/explosive feeling I get from my Streaks.

The only reasoning I have for this muscle soreness is that I was running more naturally . . . aka like I should. I have a weird feeling I was trouncing along passively in my N1s and not with form you need to get faster. More of a jogger than a runner. So this is good news and makes me optimistic about Rev 3 Knoxville.

I’m excited to be back with my bread and butter, but the bad news is, Pearl doesn’t make this model anymore. So, if you have some old Streaks in your closet or know about a backroom stash somewhere at the Pearl Izumi headquarters, please get in touch.

Long Live The Streak!! She’s a beauty!!

May 1, 2014

Remembering the Fab 5 from Ironman Wisconsin

This is actually a re-post of a little addition I tacked on at the end of a story the other guys wrote about me before Ironman Wisconsin. I have been looking for inspiration triggers tonight and many times they end up being the people closest to you. Yeah, I’ve already posted this, but it was fun for me to read and I’m guessing millions of people from around the world haven’t seen it yet. Besides, it’s my blog.

THE FAB FIVE

I spent a TON of time with these guys over the last year and every minute was inspirational. Each of them connected with me in different ways and it was truly a blessing to meet them and train together for a goal I thought was impossible.

I’ve said it many times before, but Jim is the reason I am in triathlon . . . and for that matter, not a whale laying around on the couch. He patiently led by example until I figured out that I should probably follow in his footsteps. Jim made many sacrifices to make sure I stayed engaged with endurance sports, and I will forever be indebted to his efforts. Maybe one day I too will be getting up at 3:45 every morning.

Kevin’s gutsy performance at IM Louisville 2012 was the final straw that lured me into Ironman. Watching my first IM was an emotional and motivating experience. I barely knew Kevin at the time, but I was so moved by his effort that day, I knew I would sign up to race sooner than later. We didn’t bike or run together often, but our lake battles were undeniably the catalyst to me becoming a confident swimmer and rejuvenating my competitive nature.

Daniel is one of the most positive and compassionate people I know. He overcame a lot to get where he is today. His passion for triathlon shined bright all year and his results proved it. He embraced every experience like it was his last and smiled before, during, and after each competition or workout. Ironman was a first for both of us and we loved to speculate about how it would feel to compete, then finish. We dove into every detail along the way and I think it made us both better racers and people.

Mark showed more guts than just about anyone I’ve ever known as a competitor. It seemed like he was injured the entire training season, but he kept pushing on. And I’m not talking about hang nails. He had a double hernia and a torn bicep, but didn’t let either get in his way. Despite these setbacks, having a family, and owning a business that was exploding, he kept his eye on the prize and peaked with a great performance at Wisconsin. He showed a lot of confidence in me and that became a big source of motivation.

It was, is, and always will be the Fab 5 I think of first. We committed to a journey and each other. We followed through with a major challenge and came away with far more than medals. We are great friends who shared deep and meaningful experiences that no one can ever take away.

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Post script.

Jim has just signed up for Ironman Maryland this year.

Daniel is closing in on Ironman Texas.

Kevin will be getting married soon in Florida.

Mark just did the Country Music 1/2 Marathon and seems on the fence about what’s next, but I sense something is coming.

Me . . . well, you know. Just plugging along and trying to figure out what’s next.

May 1, 2014

Ironman Wisconsin Official Video

“It’s like a tailgate party for a triathlon.”

I will always be biased, but I can’t imagine there’s a better Ironman race than Wisconsin. Tonight I happened to stumble upon the official video from our race and, once again, it gave me chills.

The mass swim start is one of the most memorable experiences of my life. The sea of humanity was a sensory overload. Then running up a helix lined with screaming fans was the perfect transition.

The bike course was the favorite ride of my training year. It was impossibly well supported. The three “Tour de France” climbs (twice) with people in costumes running next to you turned pain into pleasure.

I truly can’t imagine a better marathon run course for an Ironman. State Street was a massive party and we got to run up and down it eight times. The rest of the run was on or near the University of Wisconsin campus and spectators gave you energy on nearly every block.

And for a local boy, the finish was perfectly planted right beneath the majestic Wisconsin State Capitol. A day I will never forget and would someday like to live again.