knoxville

May 21, 2014

Rev3 Knoxville – Weekend Overview

The Man Who Saved My Race

Saturday night after dinner, I was exhausted and shuffled back to the Knoxville Holiday Inn a little after 8:00. As I circled through the revolving door, I remembered something very important . . . I had nothing to eat before the race in the morning.

The gates were closed on the hotel store and I cringed at the thought of navigating Rocky Top to find pre-race food. But, when I looked a little closer, I noticed one of the gates was halfway open and there was activity inside.

I did a little limbo under the metal and noticed Eddie from Nashville was buying a few things from a very helpful clerk, who I will call Chuck. It was obviously after hours and the older gentleman behind the counter was a freak of courtesy, even while balancing his till.

Eddie left with his goods, and I apologized for the inconvenience before asking if I might buy a few things for the morning. Chuck was all in.

“Sure! Whatever you need, my friend.”

I scoured the shelves for fuel. Bagels, bars, and bananas. This was a blessing and I loaded up. But I couldn’t find peanut butter.

“Oh, hang on buddy, I’ll go get some from the kitchen!”

Seriously? What a guy!

He came back with four packets and sheepishly asked if it was enough. I assured him it was.

These are the little things in life that I crave and never seem to find enough. It was more than “service” it was kind human behavior. It was someone who put others ahead of himself.

He was lighthearted and asked genuine questions. He even told me a story about Wisconsin and promised someone would be there at 5:30 in the morning if I forgot anything.

I tipped him kindly, then noticed three or four other guys meandering about the store. I ducked under the gate again and heard Chuck in full glory, ready to feed the next wave of hungry triathletes.

The Rev3 Experience

I’m telling you, Rev3 puts on a great race. You just get the feeling they really care about the athletes and takes pride in the little things. To a man, and woman, everyone I know that raced said they would definitely come back.

First of all, I love the course they designed. The swim in the Tennessee River rocks. It just feels big and anytime there is multiple bridges, count me in.

The bike course was, as many people describe it, tough, but fair. It’s really the perfect course for me. Lots of turns, challenging climbs, and fast descents. The scenery was gorgeous and everything was well marked.

The run course was a little blah, but still enjoyable. It was mostly on a bike path, but there was a nice creek/river along the way and it’s always cool to run through parks. The last .3 miles was uphill back into the finish line and probably the most memorable portion.

Rev3 is professional, yet accessible. The finish line felt big, but had a warm mid-sized town feel to it. I love their attention to detail, like the big monitors at the end showing your finish and a little tent where you can pull up your splits on the screen. It’s not the Final Four, but it’s definitely Elite Eight, and on some level that is more intriguing.

I plan to write more later on why I believe Rev3 is poised to challenge Ironman for attention in the shorter distance races.

Location, Location, Location

I absolutely drool when races are in a city and are PART of the city.

I love Ironman Louisville and Wisconsin because they showcase the location. Both run through their respective downtown’s and you always know where you are.

I was underwhelmed by Ironman Muncie and New Orleans. Both could have easily been in Bowling Green, Kentucky and I wouldn’t have known the difference. To me it’s the difference between playing a baseball game at a stadium versus your practice field. There is cache’ in the venue.

Rev3 Knoxville set up right at World Fair Park. I decided to stay at the Holiday Inn which is normally attached to the finish line, but moved about a block this year because of a book fair (which I regretfully didn’t attend).

Transition was a few blocks from the finish and nearly close enough to make my post-race bike fetch enjoyable. In New Orleans, I had to drive 20 minutes to get my bike after the race and got lost in the hood along the way, which actually came in handy in the form of ridiculously delicious hot wings, but other than that, driving to get your bike blows.

At Rev3 Knox, everything was a short walk, including Market Square, which set the pre-race table beautifully. Just a cool little town that genuinely seemed happy to have a bunch of goofy triathletes walking around in spandex.

Because of their excellent planning, I am “this” close to signing up for Rev3 Wisconsin Dells. I’ve been there many times and it is a crazy little place with a lot going on. Water parks, bearded women, fire eating jugglers, and I’m confident I’ll see them all.

The swim is where they hold the Tommy Bartlett water-ski show and the run course appears to be nicely entwined with the tourism absurdity. And what could be better than a ride on the amphibious Wisconsin Dells Ducks to wind down after a glorious day of pain?

May 19, 2014

Rev3 Knoxville 2014 – A Few Pictures

I have a ton of thoughts about this weekend at the Rev3 Race in Knoxville, but have been a little tired. Until I hunt and gather my opinions on Knoxville, the Pros, the Holiday Inn, and the race, here are a few pictures (including the group custom finisher shots) as a visual guide.

May 16, 2014

Nashville Heads To Rocky Top for Rev3 Knoxville

Well, the girls are heading to Knoxville . . . Me, Corey, Jim, and Wasky will soon hit I-40 East to tangle with Rocky Top. For most of the ride, I reckon I’ll be trying to figure out the “Rocky Top” lyrics, which will be good to get my mind off the race.

For years the first two lines alone have been enough to throw me into a mental straight jacket. I could never figure out how they would go up to Rocky Top down in the hills, but clearly they were in Kentucky or something longing to be back home, which I’m guessing will be how the four of us will feel about Nashville after riding our bikes up into those mountains on Sunday.

According to Wikipedia, “Rocky Top” was written by married songwriting duo Boudleaux Bryant (1920–1987) and Felice Bryant (1925–2003) in 1967, which took about 10 minutes (Corey’s average transition time) to write, served as a temporary diversion for them (and clearly for me as well).

I’ve posted the lyrics below, but here is a short summary of what someone thinks each verse means, along with my interpretation of how I think the mystery inside this legendary song will apply to us at Rev3 this weekend.

Rocky Top Lyrics Defined

Wiki: Despite its fast and upbeat tempo, the song is actually a lament over the loss of a way of life.

Crushing Iron: Fast and upbeat will be a stretch, but the “loss of a way of life” part certainly applies to us considering we spent most of last year together and now all we do is text.

Wiki: In the song’s opening verse, the singer longs for a place called “Rocky Top,” where there is no “smoggy smoke” and there are no “telephone bills.” The singer reminisces about a love affair he once had on Rocky Top with a woman “wild as a mink.”

CI: I’m almost positive there is no cell service in those hills, so at the very least our phone bills will be reduced. While it definitely won’t be a love affair, I’m pretty sure Corey will get a tad bit sentimental about the fun he had on the bike last year. And I wouldn’t put it past Jim to know a few wild minks in those hills from his time as a rock star UT.

Wiki: The song’s second verse recalls a story about two “strangers” (apparently revenue agents) climbing Rocky Top “looking for a moonshine still,” but never returning (conflict between moonshiners and “revenuers” is a common theme in Appalachian culture).

CI: This is the part that scares me. Wasky and I are both from the north, which could easily put us in the “stranger” category. On top of that, Corey and Wasky are both finance guys, which immediately lumps them into a “revenuers” category. Our only hope is Jim, who will likely have a few connections, but I’m not sure his new aero helmet will be a hit with his moonshiner buddies.

Wiki: In the third and final verse (which consists of just four lines), the singer again longs for the “simple” life, likening life in the city to being “trapped like a duck in a pen.”

CI: These four strangers, invading Rocky Top to spread their “cramped up city life ideals,” may indeed wind up “trapped like a duck in a pen” if they’re not careful. And somehow, despite the fact that texting really isn’t that complicated, we may need to convince some of these half bear-half cats that we’re sweet as soda pop. The lycra should help.

Here is my 3 part race summary from a cold and rainy Rev3 Knoxville 2013:

The Swim – My first real venture into ice cold water
The Bike – Including quotes from the great Ernest Shackleton
The Run – This could have nearly doubled as the swim

This is a different Mike and Cindy from their hike on the Appalachian Trail. Click photo for more on their adventure.

Rocky Top Lyrics

Wish that I was on ole Rocky Top
Down in the Tennessee Hills.
Ain’t no smoggy smoke on Rocky Top,
Ain’t no telephone bills.

Once I had a girl on Rocky Top,
Half bear the other half cat;
Wild as a mink as sweet as soda pop,
I still dream about that.

CHORUS

Rocky Top, you’ll always be,
Home sweet home to me.
Good ole Rocky Top,
Rocky Top Tennessee.

Once two strangers climbed ole Rocky Top,
Lookin’ for a moonshine still.
Strangers ain’t come down from Rocky Top,
Reckon they never will.
Corn won’t grow at all on Rocky Top,
Dirt’s too rocky by far.
That’s why all the folks on Rocky Top,
get their corn from a jar.

CHORUS

I’ve had years of cramped up city life;
Trapped like a duck in a pen.
All I know is it’s a pity life,
Can’t be simple again.

CHORUS

September 26, 2013

Running The Asylum

The last two days I was in Knoxville for a great social media workshop and wanted to get in a run. I stayed at the same hotel I used for my early season Rev3 race, so I thought I might slide down to the river and run the course for old times sake. My coach had a better idea.

“You should hook up with some of the Knoxville athletes and run at Old Lakeshore. Some nice hills.”

Oh, he had me at hills, but little did I know what else was waiting.

I agreed to meet Elyse, who I met at the Muncie 70.3, and qualified for the Vegas World Championship that day. She lives in Knoxville, is training for Ironman Florida, and hadn’t run at Old Lakeshore either . . . but knew much more about its past.

As I pulled through the cyclone fence that surrounded the complex, I was immediately captured by the drab structures. I felt like I was literally driving onto a Stephen King set. The buildings were brick, with faded white paint, and one was charred black from fire.

Old Lakeshore was a mental institution and many refer to it as a “haunted asylum.” You can read about its “complicated” history here.

I weaved up and down narrow roads with no idea where I was going. I landed on a gravel parking lot next to an abandoned building and decided to change out of my work clothes.

I can’t explain how strange this situation felt, but about halfway through the change I realized I was in my car, naked, smack dab in the middle of an insane asylum. I kept waiting for glass to shatter and a security guard, dressed in all white, to yank me through the windshield and put me in a straight jacket for a long walk up the hill into a lifetime of obscurity.

Safely in my running gear, I eased from the gravel parking lot and looked for anything that seemed like a normal place for runners to meet. I finally spotted an empty soccer field and parked next to a long line of about 20 cars. Cars everywhere but I didn’t see a soul, other than what appeared to be a man in a powder blue jumpsuit leaning halfway out an open window of a rundown building simply labeled “The Cottage.”

A chapel rose on a hill in the distance, surrounded by an endless sea of sterile buildings and zero life. The sky was gray and the entire scene was eerily quiet.

I called Elyse and she was coming toward me as we spoke.

“This place is creepy.”

Yes it was, and I was fascinated!

We took off on a slow jog and finally found the path which was a 2 mile loop around the grounds. I’m not gonna lie, my eyes were on a swivel as we rolled up and down steep hills, and in and out of buildings. It felt like at any minute a stray patient in a flowing robe could have toppled us into deep brush.

There was also a deserted concession stand and I stopped to use the restroom while she waited. When I came out I told her there was a guy dressed like Jesus in the bathroom handing out cologne samples.

We ran about 7 miles, all surrounded by history and mystery. I kept trying to talk her into exploring some of the facility, but she would have none of it. And after watching this video, I’m glad we got the hell out of there, but that doesn’t mean I wouldn’t like to gather a group and do a night time run at Old Lakeshore.

May 14, 2013

Couple of Pics from Rev 3 Olympic

One of the bonuses of doing a race in the rain can be the gritty nature of the photography. The wet roads and raindrops make for an excellent backdrop.

I mean, I actually sorta look like a triathlete in this picture. And, I just love the one below because of the bridge in the background. But, what I would like to know from fellow racers and/or bike experts is what is wrong here? I got this bike fitted back in the fall, but feel like my back should be flatter. It “feels” fine, but 25 miles is much different than 112. I want to make sure I’m in the optimum position. All feedback is welcome.

May 10, 2013

The Last Minute Push to Finish

At Mile 5.5, my coach ran out from the sidelines and encouraged me to suck it up for a chance at the podium. He was tracking me and by his estimation, third place was a possibility. Problem was, there wasn’t much left in the tank.

A guy from my age group passed me about a mile earlier and he was long gone. All I had left was to stay in front of all comers. But about point 4 miles from the finish line, I heard footsteps. I didn’t even have time to glance before he was right next to me. Then in front. I looked at his calf, and sure enough, he was from my age group. I couldn’t let him beat me.

I stayed on his tail and with point two miles left, channeled my Monogetti run training and darted past him. We came down under the bridge, before jumping onto the lawn for the 60 yard finish chute. I thought I had a comfortable lead, but about 15 yards from the finish, he blew by me!

As you can see by the look on my face, I was toast. The grass was slick and there wasn’t enough real estate to catch him. He finished one second ahead of me, and as I crossed the finish line on his tail, I started to slide and grabbed him to stop from falling. I nearly knocked down everyone in the path, including volunteers, but somehow stayed on my feet. I stood tall, gave him a menacing stare, then glanced at his calf again. He wasn’t in my age group after all.

Here’s a closer view so you can see the pain and rain.

May 7, 2013

Rev 3 Olympic Triathon Knoxville – My Bike Summary

Every day I feel like triathlon is helping me build a closer connection with myself. It’s a subtle, slow, and genuine burn that inches its way deeper into my soul with every stroke, spin, and stride. It began by setting a nearly unfathomable goal, but has now transformed into a lifestyle. Not a triathlon lifestyle, but a more confident, clear, and defined picture of who I am. And the most exciting part is, I barely feel like I’ve scratched the surface.

If you’ve never raced a triathlon, or more specifically swam a mile in 58 degree water, it’s really hard to understand the feeling of running barefoot on cold concrete for nearly half a mile. Your feet are numb and you’d better get used to it because the rain isn’t stopping and you’re about to pedal your bike for 25 miles with no socks.

Everything was warm, except my feet and hands, both of which would be extremely important in the upcoming moments. I relished the brief respite from the rain in the covered transition area as I gathered my bearings and decided what to wear or omit for my bike ride. The arm warmers were a lock (thanks, coach) but the knee warmers stayed in the bag. The helmet went on, I grabbed my bike, then ran it toward the bike exit. About halfway there I realized I was holding and not wearing my gloves. This was a problem. I stopped and tried to pull gloves onto my freezing hands and it was a total OJ moment. “The gloves didn’t fit.” I stood there for what seemed like several minutes as tons of racers blew by and my bike slid around my body like an oblong hula hoop.

All told, the run from the swim, the bike prep, and the glove fiasco took roughly six and a half minutes. The whole time, I was afraid to look at my feet.

But it’s moments like this when I try to think of something inspiring, and any time I feel sorry for myself for being cold I think of one man: Ernest Shackleton.

I’ve said it before, but if you’re into adventure, you have to read a book called, Endurance: Shackleton’s Incredible Voyage. Not only is it a great adventure book, it may be the most engaging grouping of words I’ve ever laid eyes on. “Simply Brilliant” says Crushing Iron blogger, Mike Tarrolly.

Here are a few Shackleton quotes to chew on:

“Difficulties are just things to overcome, after all.”

“I seemed to vow to myself that some day I would go to the region of ice and snow and go on and on till I came to one of the poles of the earth, the end of the axis upon which this great round ball turns.”

“After months of want and hunger, we suddenly found ourselves able to have meals fit for the gods, and with appetites the gods might have envied.”

“We had seen God in His splendors, heard the text that Nature renders. We had reached the naked soul of man.”

I mean, come on! This dude did not fuck around with exploring. “Endurance” is about an expedition to the South Pole with like twenty five guys who signed up simply for the adventure. Shackleton posted this ad in the paper to find his crew:

MEN WANTED for hazardous journey, small wages, bitter cold, constant danger, safe return doubtful, honor and recognition in case of success.

And you know what? He turned men away!

That book has helped me many times. Having cold feet is a metaphor when you try to envision what Shackleton and his men endured.

So, I finally looked and my feet were a similar hue to how I imagine them looking in my casket one day. I closed my eyes and thought of Shackleton (in the middle of winter, bobbing his way in an undersized wooden boat through the most deadly sea in the world wearing little more than a sweat shirt) and jumped on my Trek triathlon bike to ride in a misting rain along nicely paved streets in Knoxville, Tennessee.

I honestly don’t remember much of the bike leg (maybe that’s why I’m harping on the Shackleton thing . . . although, I seriously cannot recommend that book enough) but I do know it was an amazing course. It started along the river, swung up through a business district, dipped onto a major highway, then headed into the beautiful Knoxville hills. On a sunny day, the scenery would have been spectacular.

I think only two things could have gone better for me on the bike (aside from having race wheels). One was a situation where I was coming down the longest hill and could have really been cooking, but a car got in the way. There were also bikes in front of him, so he rode his breaks down the entire hill. We were probably going 20 mph and that could have easily been 28, but there was nothing I could do. I waited about a half mile until he finally turned off, clearing my way for another climb.

The other thing I did wrong was not listen to my coach and hammer the climbs. His logic was clear, “It’s wet, the course is pretty technical and you’ll be breaking a lot on the downhills.” I probably could have climbed harder and recovered on the descents. Lesson learned.

The last half mile was the same flat road along the river and I cruised in around 24 mph. I felt great, but my legs had joined my feet in the world of numb appendages. How do your legs and feet function when you can’t feel them? I can hear Shackleton laughing in my face.

I forgot to start my watch again and haven’t figured out my speedometer, so I had no idea how long the bike took, but I knew it was pretty solid. I started the bike in 141st place out of 355 total racers and ended in 100th. Average speed was 20 mph and the total time was 1:15 for 25 miles.

I dismounted my bike with one shoe still clipped on the pedal and one on my left foot, which made for a clumsy stroll through transition, especially on frozen feet, but the good news was . . . I’d get to run a 10k next!