Category: Competition

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A New Perspective on Digging Deep

I have experienced it first hand as I struggled to finish my first 5k.  I have watched friends complete half and full marathons while heat pummeled their bodies.  I have witnessed a good friend finish Ironman Louisville despite puking multiple times on his 112 mile bike ride.  The very nature of these races forces you to dig deeper.  But what if we looked at the concept of digging deep in terms of trusting your plan?

Saturday at 7 am, I stood near the start line of the Rocket City Marathon with two friends who were there to watch.  One of the guys said he signed up, but wasn’t running and like a flash, my brain skulled into overdrive.  I went from casual spectator, to seriously contemplating a 26.2 mile run.

My gut bubbled.  This would be the surprise of the day.  I would headline the 10 o’clock news; people would be astonished by my feat; I would be limping for a week.

Thank God, logic choked me.

The Huntsville Marathon was not part of my plan and I think this is why most companies, teams and people get in trouble.  They settle on a strategy, but ignore it for a deviant opportunity.  The Steelers, St. Louis Cardinals, and folks at Apple stick to a plan . . . and it works.

I was thinking like the Titans yesterday.  I was looking for a quick way to make fans and get closer to my goal of an immortal mortal.  I know the hail mary is bad form, but sticking to a solid, long-term plan is one of the hardest things in life.

In fact, I was even imparting this wisdom the night before.

“I know you’ll feel good early, but resist temptation to start this marathon too fast.  Finishing strong is a way better option.”

I mean, EVERYONE who runs knows this, but it is very difficult to stay with that plan.

“You’re running a race, for god’s sake, run the mother fucker!”

Of all the races I’ve completed, I did not take my advice in any of them.  I always go out faster than I should and imagine I would have done the same had I decided to launch into the Rocket City Marathon.

So, I’d like to put a spin on the phrase “dig deep.”  The obvious definition is to find something extra inside of you while you’re on the course.  To swim one more lap.  To spin when there’s nothing left.  To pick up legs that can barely move.  But what about digging deep when it comes to your character and a plan?

While I don’t know how deep I actually dug yesterday, I acted rationality.  We endurance athletes often confuse going the extra mile with what’s best in the long run.  I really try to remind myself to pull in the reigns with regard to training.  It’s one thing to be a pro and push your body to the limits, but a big reason I’m committed to doing an Ironman is for the side benefits.  I really believe it will unleash a better and more consistent person.

There is imbalance with any pursuit of passion and that holds true to training as well.  What point is all of this working out if it makes you hurt?  What point is there in settling on a plan and throwing it out the first time you’re tempted to do something else?  Or do we simply prepare to be predictably irrational?

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The Post-Race That Changed Me

Saturday, I cut a few more notches in my belt.  It was a bittersweet day that, in many ways, changed who I am as a person.151009_4342436591699_941279087_n

Rebekah and I met Roger at the start line around 7:30 to shiver and discuss strategy for our 12K run.  It was the first annual 12k Winter Warm Up and I knew it would be a little hilly, but it proved to be a beast.

12k turns out to be about 7.2 miles and would be the longest run I’d done in a while.  I was coming off a nice 4-Mile race on Thanksgiving and decided to set my goal pace at 7:46m, which is my buddy Jim’s goal next week for the Huntsville Marathon.  If he can do that for 26 miles, I can do it for 7.2!  The competition bubbles.

There was also a 6k and the 12k was two loops.  I’m not a huge fan of that set up, but it turned out to be kinda cool because we kept running by each other.  I had mentally set a goal of 31:00 for the first 4 miles because I did that distance in 28:51 the week before.  It seemed manageable and would put me in good position for the last 3.2.

Talking about these paces is a little surreal to me.  In March, I was literally unsure if I could “finish” a 5k, let alone bust one at sub 8 after already running 4 miles.  But, it’s a testament to what we can do if we stick with something.

Anyway, the course was filled with rolling hills and descents, but not much in terms of flat.  I’ve actually come to love hills, though and feel like training with East Nasties has given me an advantage.  In fact, there was a solid line of people I train with busting down the other side of the road ahead of me all day long.

To make a long and boring story short, I took first in my age group with a time of 56:39.  Thing was, I thought there was no way I’d come close after running the first bastard of a loop.  What’s kinda crazy cool is that I ran my first 5k in March at a 9:10 pace and it was a flat course.  Yesterday my pace was 7:51 on a tough 12k track.

But that’s good news.

As we were walking back to our cars, Rebekah suddenly tripped and fell straight to the pavement.  It was so quick she was already picking herself up before I realized what happened.  Halfway up, I heard her say, “My tooth,” as she reached out to pick a white spec off the sidewalk.  I was paralyzed.

She stood up and looked at me with a swollen and bloody lip . . . and sure enough, half of her front tooth was gone.  I felt an incredible surge of compassion wash through my body.  I leaned in, hugged her and said everything would be okay.  Her pain was mine and I felt the horror that had to be racing through her mind.  The flukiest of accidents had changed the entire tone of the day.  The race was gone.  The afternoon was gone.  The smiles were gone.

I gathered myself, put my arm around her and we staggered to the car.  I reassured her it would be okay, but had no idea what to do next.  Then, in the most calming of tones, she spoke through her bloody hand, “Well, good thing my dad is a dentist.”

I was so proud of the way she handled her fate.  Roger gracefully followed as we drove to her parents and knocked on the door.  An unsuspecting mother opened the door to see her little girl in pain and it brought a tear to my eye.  We explained what happened and her father calmly assured her everything would be just fine.

“Honey, this is what I do, I will take care of you.”

She laid back on the couch with ice on her lip and I knelt by her side wiping the moisture from her cheek.  It’s the unknown that scares us and there was enough to last me a lifetime.

I took her car and waited in agony for some news.  Would he be able to save it?  Would she need a new tooth?  Was a dentist’s daughter ready to face the world with a cracked smile?  I felt helpless, but the flood of compassion kept rushing through my veins.  In the face of her pain I literally felt my ego dripping away.

Two hours later I got a text message with a picture of her pretty smile restored in between big swollen lips.  It was one of the greater senses of relief I’ve had in years.  I could feel my body relax, a true, deep, and sincere calm.  Hearing her upbeat voice helped even more.

The power of emotions is undeniable and I feel like the last year of training has unearthed many buried feelings.  Saturday was another roller coaster that started on top, sank to the bottom, but set the tone for another magnificent climb to greater heights.

I didn’t swim, bike, or run on Sunday, but a renewed energy had me bouncing off the walls.  I wanted to be with friends.  Help people.  Listen, love, and learn.  I felt a sense of gratitude to be surrounded by so many amazing people and training for an unimaginable quest like Ironman with four other great guys and an inspirational coach.

It may be fleeting, but for now I have an increased sense of the moment.  I’m excited and grateful for each training session that lies ahead.  I’m optimistic that I will continue to improve and reach internal and external goals that have been patiently waiting for me.  It’s all about enjoying the process and putting in the work.  And considering the overall winner in that 12k beat me by 20+ minutes, I certainly have room for improvement.

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Coach Throws a Bash

Last night, our coach, Robbie Bruce, and X3 Endurance put together a little shindig at the former CAO headquarters in Nashville.  These triathlete cats are swank!  556824_4571217410459_2017126219_n

Free beer, food, wine, and damn near anything else you may want from a health conscious workout crew, including samples of Huma, which is a Nashville based energy gel patterned after the Tarahumara diet.  There were several endurance big wigs in attendance, including Nashville Running Company’s, Lee Wilson and his staff. LeeMarkX3 had big white sheets of paper on the walls with 2013 races across the top, which the athletes all signed if they were planning to knock it out.  The Fab Five all checked in under the Ironman heading and took a team picture by the fire pit.  FabFivex3

The triathlete contingent in Nashville seems to be alive and well and I look forward to pounding some open water swims in February!
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Tomorrow,  I will be taking my talents to South 12th Street for the 12 South Winter Warm up 12K.  Lots of 12’s in that sentence!  I told Jim, who is above with the flowing silver mop, I am shooting for his Huntsville Marathon pace goal of 7:46.  We’ll keep you posted on that one.  After the run, there is a big time beer festival, which I am evidently partaking in, that starts at 11:00.  Wish me luck on both accounts!

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Inspiring Quotes from People I Follow

I’m following more and more swimmers, bikers, and runners every day.  Each of them say things that make me think, create discovery, and inspire.  Here are a few of the latest with links to their blogs.

This from a couple of guys from Budapest who decided to quit their jobs and go on the ultimate cycling adventure.  This is an excerpt from their latest ride in France that highlights the random hospitality I often hear shared by endurance travelers:

We had a first great surprise at sunset : a motorcyclist started riding with us and chatting on the road. He was also a keen cyclist and traveller, and asked us few questions about our project. After few minutes chatting with Nico (Yves was ahead), he hit the accelerator and left us. But then, at the next traffic light, he was there, waiting for us. “Where do you stay tonight”, he says. “We don’t know!”. “Ok, come to my place if you want. It’s up in the hills -a place called Eze, I have some wine, bread and saucisson. We can have dinner à la bonne franquette’”. “Sure, excellent. Let’s go!”. – Cycling Further

It just makes me want to hit the road and see what’s out there in the world.

One of the greatest things about reading other people’s training blogs are the constant reminders that help us learn how we can be better triathletes.  Iowa Tri Bob has helped remind me that technique in the water is not honed by laps alone:

“As I’ve focused more on technique and drills I’ve become much more efficient in the water.  I love watching swim techniques on YouTube or on the blogs I come across and I’ve come to really love the drills in swimming.”

Read more about the his favorite drills and techniques here — Iowa Tri Bob

I think one of the biggest questions triathletes ask themselves is, “Why?”  Why do we put ourselves through all of this?  I found an interesting analogy about life, fulfillment, and self-worth in the breakdown of a scene from Rocky at Tri Fatherhood.

“I wondered why Rocky didn’t have confidence in himself. But now I’ve come to understand that winning in life is relative. Winning wasn’t what Rocky needed. He just needed a chance. He needed a chance to stand up after being knocked down. Again and again. He needed a chance to still be there when the bell rang. Just the chance was enough. And survival.”

And here’s another from a woman who loves swimming more than southerners like corn cakes and hones her passion in open water.  She offers these tips for swimming in the sea.  I was especially intrigued by her “kelp” insight:

  • Learn to love your wetsuit – it is your anti drowning, warm, speedy friend.
  • Do not put Vaseline on your hands then touch your goggles
  • Put anti chafe on your neck and other hot spots – chafe is not your friend and you will scream in the shower.
  • Sharks don’t like kelp so you are safe in there but it is scary so head up and motor it
  • Sight! If you don’t, you can end up in the middle of nowhere
  • Swim with a buddy and be aware if in the sea – conditions can change quickly.
  • Have fun and don’t fight the water (or people in the water).
  • And for the ladies, stay away from guys in the water, they are notoriously bad sighters and will swim right over you in all directions (sorry boys).

There is tons of good stuff out there and I’m excited to be connected to fellow swimmers, bikers, and runners on my quest for Ironman Wisconsin.

 

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Winning Your Race

The story of my early life was team sports.  I was lucky to have a neighborhood full of kids who wanted to play football, basketball, baseball, whiffle ball, and even backyard hockey.  We made it happen, and after school or weekends weren’t complete unless we spent countless hours on some kind of imaginary field or court.  I think this background may be one of the reasons I’m so energized for triathlons.

There had been a long void in my life after I hung up the baseball glove, hockey skates, and lacrosse stick. I did play competitive softball for several summers after college, but that ended 10 years ago. Now, it’s multi-sport endurance, and I’m trying to figure out how thinking like a team-sport-athlete can help.

Exposure to competition is the first thing that comes to mind.  I have ranted many times about how running and/or triathlons are, for most athletes, personal competitions.  Quests for better time, performance, or post-race feeling.  But there is a deep-seeded competitor inside me who wants to win and I’m doing my best to channel that energy in a constructive way.  Learning to win is best done by winning, and winning in this case can be however we define it.  Celebrate and remember what it took to get that time or that feeling.  Then repeat.

Finishing the game is another advantage a competitive history brings.  Not all games start well, and it’s surely the same for athletes that tackle Ironman.  I heard John Calapari say something to his thoroughbreds at practice one day, and I think this sums up what I’m talking about.

He said something like, “You have to play defense here.  And I don’t even care if you get beat, but don’t give up on the play.”   He was referring to a play in the national championship when one of his players got beat on a backdoor play, but the kid (I think it was Michael Kidd Gilchrist) turned and hustled to block the shot, which kept them close enough to eventually win the game.

That play was about digging for something deeper.  Realizing the situation didn’t look good, but finding the will to win, or set a new PR, or simply finish the race.

Pre-game preparation is also a major factor (although I constantly forget or ignore this lesson).  A couple weeks ago, I ran about 4 miles with Jim and he was 3.5 miles in before we met.  His pace
was stellar when I saw him and I didn’t want to slow him down.  Mistake.  We went right to a trail at
sub-9 minute pace (which seemed faster) and hit the road a mile later at sub 8.  I never felt quite
loose and I really have to remember that I am a second half player.  Negative splits win the race.

I’ve been forcing myself to warm up slow, find a groove, and be fast to the finish.  I know this, but have to remind myself every time until it is habit.

Learning how to win is about setting attainable goals and hitting them.  Digging deep when things aren’t going well by trusting that you have more inside.  And preparing with purpose.  Winning is a state of mind and perpetuates more victories in training, life, and your next race.

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Ironman Wisconsin Training Video

Here’s the first in a series of Ironman Wisconsin training video from members of the “Fab Five.”  Jim kicks it off with a reflection on the excitement “just signing up” for an Ironman can bring.

It should be noted that Jim is the only Fab Five member in this video.  I shot it while he was doing tempo runs with another group in preparation for the Huntsville Marathon.

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Music City Thanksgiving Day 4-Mile Run

If you had any doubt about my life being a complete cluster-f*k at times, this morning should cement your opinion.

I was up early and ready for the Music City Thanksgiving 4 Miler and carrying my new “smile attitude” for good measure.  I went through a short warm-up routine in the basement that includes running in place, some push ups, and foam rolling to one of my go-to albums, “F*k This Shit We’re Outta Here,” by The Pimps.  My dog circled me with her squeaky toy and my legs felt good, even after a 3.8 mile run with the East Nasties last night.

I left home at 7:30 for the 8:00 race and found myself in the back of a huge line of traffic around 7:40 at LP Field.  I couldn’t understand how a 500 person race could cause this much back up at an NFL football stadium with thousands of parking slots.  I found out soon enough.

After ten minutes I finally pulled into the ONE section they opened for race parking and a lady walks up to me and asked if I paid yet.

“Um, paid for what?”

“Parking.”

“Parking?”

“Yeah, it’s 5 bucks?”

“You’re kidding, right?”

“Don’t blame us, it’s the race organizer.”*

“I don’t have any cash.”

“Sorry.”

So, ten minutes to race time and I’m scrambling through the scrap yards and back alleys near LP Field looking for a parking spot, but there are cops everywhere screaming, “You can’t park there!”

I spin around the corner, and cut through the actual race course, loop all the way around the stadium and find a lot that takes credit cards.  But, of course, the machine wasn’t working.  I had to risk it and started running toward the start line.  I turned the corner and saw the lead runners tearing off into the sunset.  I missed the start!

Five hundred runners tore past me and I played Frogger to get through them and find the registration tent.  The nice lady gave me my bib and ripped off my timing chip which I put on my shoe.  I circled back around the start line, hit my watch, and raced after the racers.

I didn’t catch the first walker until point 3 miles into the race.  Then it was navigation time as I slipped and slid through the massive throng of people in front of me.  We curled through the “infamous parking area” and landed at the bottom of the imposing Shelby Street Bridge.

My hands and legs were cold, but my pace was blistering (for me).  I hit the first mile mark around 7:15 and flew down the backside of the bridge with my goal of sub 30 minutes in tact.  We weaved through the downtown construction, past the Rescue Mission, then up to the new roundabout near the spectacular Music City Center.  It was a short steep hill that caught me off guard and hurt.

At the top of that hill we turned right onto Demonbreun and it was a four block downhill, so I trusted my ailing knee and pounded onward.  I was cooking pretty good and passing people left and right.  I used my new smiling technique coupled with parking anger to fuel my time, which was right on pace.

I staggered mid-way up the Shelby Bridge, but kept a steady 8 minute pace.  Once on top, it was on again and I blasted down the backside feeling strong as we turned left toward the home stretch.  I didn’t look at the race clock, but clicked stop on my watch as I crossed the finish line and it read 28:51.  A solid minute under my goal and a 7:15 pace.

Like a turkey that escaped the kill, I proudly walked to the finish table where I saw fellow Fab Fiver, Daniel, who was time keeper for the race.  I asked him to look up my number but he didn’t have a time for me.  His buddy looked at my shoe and noticed I wasn’t wearing the right timing strip.  It was still on my bib and didn’t register.

Okay, so lessons did we learn, kids?

1.  Show up early to races flush with cash to grease unexpected parking officials.
2.  Never trust nice old ladies to tie on your timing chips.
3.  Listen to the Pimps to get you pumped up.
4.  Smile in the face of it.

* Edit: I now see an email warning us about parking and evidently it is LP Field’s policy.  Note to LP Field: Just because your football team sucks doesn’t mean you have to.

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Endurance Basketball: 138 Points in One Game

So, this guy scored 138 points in a basketball game last night–absolutely demolishing the old record of 113 set in 1954.  My first reaction was, “What a dick!”  Then I realized he is from my home state of Wisconsin and went to my alma mater, UW-LaCrosse, before transferring to Grinnell.  So, I guess that makes my second reaction, “I bet this guy would be a good triathlete!”

Jack’s layup form is a perfect interpretation of the Pose running method in mid-air.  Even the guy chasing him has a lean/fall going on, but his face is saying, “bonk.”  Jack, however, is fresh and relaxed.  Easing his way through mile 20 of a marathon with rhythm and confidence.  How else could you shoot over 100 times in a game without having an elbow the size of a grapefruit?

I haven’t seen the post-game pictures, but I’m guessing he fielded questions in a thermal blanket much like an Ironman veteran:

“Yeah, after 90 shots I hit a little wall, but to finish with 138 points you have to plow through your pain threshold.”

Dude launched 108 shots in this game and I’m guessing he left the locker room in a three piece suit with wing tips and a pocket watch floating around like he was the new Ben Franklin.  His girlfriend waiting patiently while batting eyes at her new celebrity boyfriend as he laid out high fives to frat boys and concession workers.

Jack has just cemented a legacy for that will last 100 years and could open a whole new mind-set for scoring much like Bannister’s 4-minute-mile did for running, but let’s hope not.

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My Craziest Race Thought to Date

Armondo’s at it again.  Now, he’s trying to convince me to do an all night trail relay.  That might be easy for the Red Wolf, but I’m like the Purple Quail in this mix.

So, the route is 5 miles with 4 people.  It’s actually only 12 hours, but all night sounds more dangerous.  I hear there is a 24 hour run, but . . .

If you remember, this is the same trail that ransacked my IT band in the first place,

Chasing the Sasquatch

but as you know, I am not one to take losing lightly.  (Maybe you don’t know that and maybe it’s not even true but these are dramatic points of the story that just need to be inserted for suspense). I have been known to climb jagged rocks to bring supper back to my family (dog) and traverse miles of wicked hot terrain to secure a metal cupful of water.

Yeah, so Armondo’s all like, “We can rest in tents in between laps.”

Dude, it’s working… keep talking.”

“And eat hard boiled eggs in our sleeping bags.”

Wow, man!

“Cornhole, acoustic guitar and lots of bears.”

Okay, I’m sold!

Well, I’m not quite sold, yet.  Three 5 mile trail laps is a tall order for a man fresh off chicken knee syndrome.

I’m gonna kick the tires and see if I can get some more teams involved.  It’s lonely on that trail and Purple Quail is afraid of the dark.