Ironman – Page 37

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 20, 2014

Rev3 Knoxville – Pro Triathlete Transitions

LAND SHARKS

I was nibbling on a Fig Newton and contemplating arm warmers when a blaze of fire erupted from the Tennessee River and raced into the Rev3 transition. The first group of men, ejected from a hurricane . . . all hunting for blood. Ladies and gentlemen, meet professional triathletes.Cameron Dye was the only familiar face, but like a school of sharks, they were close enough to be considered one. Literally on each others heels as they tore across the asphalt in bare feet.

Cam turned down the wrong bike aisle and had to backtrack, which probably cost a grand total of 7 seconds . . . but for these guys, that sliver of time can be the difference. They all landed in the row right next to me and it was an incomprehensible flurry of action.I leaned on the fence and watched as these cats spent about 10 seconds stripping their wetsuit and ripping their bike from the rack. And just like that . . . they were gone.

Their transition times were around a minute and a half, but most of that was running in and out. The time they actually spent at their bike was minimal. Maybe 20 seconds.

Talk about getting your blood pumping. Bike shoes are on the pedals and the thought of socks, gloves (or arm warmers) didn’t cross their minds. Bare is the game and animal is the lifestyle.

I can’t even comprehend the pressure of racing at that level. A group of 5 or 6 guys ran their bikes out together, all ready to pounce on weakness. Hell, I get cold sweats and fight dry heaves if I even SEE a guy with my age group number on his calf. These guys live in that world . . . and it’s no place for bait.

QUICK THOUGHT ON TRANSITIONS

When I first got into triathlon I was digging for information on everything and one time went to a “Transition Clinic” that included how to lay out all your crap on a towel. But after watching a Pro Transition, I think I could give my own clinic and it would go something like this:

1. Run as fast as you can from the water to your bike.
2. Rip off the rest of your wetsuit
3. Put on your helmet.
4. Grab your bike
5. Get your ass on the course

CAMERON DYE

I raced in Knoxville last year when Cam Dye absolutely destroyed the course in miserable conditions. His swim was 14:55 and he averaged 28 mph on the bike en route to a convincing 1:47:53 victory in the Olympic .

Over the course of the year, my buddies and I joked about me going back to Rev3 to get revenge on Dye. All I had to do was figure out how to cut 53 minutes off my time. As it turned out, he raced the mid-range distance this year, so the Rumble in Knoxville never happened, but we did have a marginally intense discussion about Twitter after the race.@miketarrolly @camdyetri

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May 16, 2014

The Calm Before The Ironman Storm #IMTX

The moment that Ironman bracelet clamps shut on your wrist, you known it is real. The door is closed and you are locked outside with the beast.

The day before Ironman Wisconsin, I walked around Madison fighting to suppress the rumble in my gut. It’s hard to relax when you know your body is about to check into hell.

I suppose it’s different if you have one under your belt, but I’m not convinced that’s an advantage. Ironman is not to be taken lightly.

You must respectfully acknowledge your opponent, which happens to be yourself. You must accept, then ignore every twinge in your body. You are strong, confident, and trained — yet fragile like a child.

Every step is calculated and while you are about to cover 140.6 miles, that extra trip to the hotel lobby becomes noteworthy. Fifty four unnecessary paces for resting legs.

Sipping water and electrolytes, hoping for the perfect balance. The optimum level of pre-race hydration that will be your last minute base for the next day.

Light stretching to ease tension that is mostly in your head. Meditating in the middle of an air-attack while bombs explode around you.

How do you contain the fire? How do you balance ferociousness?

The anticipation will crush you. Your mind does back flips as it plays through everything yet to happen. It’s senseless to obsess, but impossible to let go. You are mere feet from walking onto the plank.

And oddly, once your bare feet hit that cold wood, you look over the edge and the nerves wash away. You accept your fate and focus on why you came. You no longer have to imagine how it will look and feel. It’s right in front of you, familiar, and waiting for you to join the fun.

This is where you exist. This is where you belong.

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Best of luck on Saturday to everyone racing Ironman Texas. This is for you, and especially Rodney and Daniel who I have watched prepare for this monster. We’ll all be watching and pulling you toward the finish.

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

May 15, 2014

Running Is Freedom

The only thing better than running six miles on a beautiful day is . . . knowing that you can.

I was just back in my hometown for a few days and woke up to mid-70’s with a partly sunny sky. I sat on the back patio with dad for a while before contemplating what I would do next. That’s when I remembered, “Hey, I could run.”

It sounds simple, but as recent as two years ago, the words that would have likely popped into my head were, “Hey, I could take a nap!” Instead, I went into route-planning-mode and my body was a race horse anxious to get out of the gate.

I could go anywhere I wanted. A buddy’s house across town, Big Hill Park, my old grade school. So many options and each of those seemingly benign treks became electrifying because I had never explored Beloit, Wisconsin by run.

The thought was new. It was fresh. And I couldn’t wait to see all of the simplest little things I’d experienced a thousand times before, but from the window of a car.I cruised by the Boy’s Club on the bike path next to our vividly green neighborhood golf course. I fearlessly dove into “the hood” and discovered progress in the form of yet another new bike path. I crossed the bridge to the east side and ran along the immaculate riverfront into downtown. I was amazed by the run and bike luxuries that never existed when I was a kid.

I chugged past my childhood church, the sight of my first Little League practice, and the middle school that is no longer there. The memories flourished as I passed Tommy Johnson’s childhood home then lumbered up Lincoln Heights to my parent’s driveway.

Before I knew it, I was back on my patio, sitting in peaceful meditation as sweat dried from the backyard breeze. It was one of the simplest, yet most gratifying hometown tours I’d taken in my life.

Running is freedom. Just grab your shoes and go. It’s an expression that reminds me of how I felt tearing through local fields on my dirt bike as a child. Nothing is off limits, and more than ever, I understand how running is an art of being one with the soul of a city.Subscribe to this blog by email or follow me on Twitter @miketarrolly

May 9, 2014

The Zen of Triathlon Training – 14 Ways

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A friend sent this list of Zen ways for triathlon training and has given me permission to re-post it on Crushing Iron.

14 ways to keep your Triathlon Season a “Zen out of Ten.”

1. Simplicity leads to happiness and happiness keeps you consistent.

2. Train hard when needed, train soft when needed. Do not train moderately hard all the time.

3. Nutrition is the fuel; your body is the engine. You would not put bad gas in your car, so why put junk food in your mouth?

4. Incorporate family into your triathlon life.

5. Resting and sleeping is when the body rebuilds and gets stronger.

6. There is a right amount of training and a right racing distance for you right now. That can and will change, which is good. Do not let your ego convince you otherwise.

7. Volunteering makes you a better triathlete and person.

8. Triathlon training is not only for the sport, it’s for your life. The fitness gained improves your health, work, and family relationships.

9. What you learn about yourself during grueling training will change your life.

10. Do everything skillfully and with focus.

11. Engage, learn, improve . . . then repeat.

12. You can easily train for triathlons during the time most people waste watching TV.

13. Use the energy of a like-minded team to enhance and magnify your Zen on good days, and lean on the energy of others on your poor days.

14. Don’t compare this year to another. Each year is its own. Stay present and enjoy the ride.

May 8, 2014

5 Things I Learned At Open Water Swim Today – #OWS

1. I didn’t get enough sleep again – Waking up at 5 am would be more like Christmas morning if I could fall asleep before 1:00. I mean, I am a terrible sleeper, unless I’m not supposed to be sleeping, then I’m a rock star. But honestly, this is a significant source of frustration and I know it probably boils down to me being a self absorbed ass that isn’t spiritually evolved or something. So, as I drove away from the wonderful scenery I once again promised (and craved) being a solid citizen that will attain his goal of getting used to early morning workouts. I took a deep breath, looked at myself in the rear view mirror, then realized I have no chance. 2. Coach does not take open water training lightly – You would think swimming is just swimming, but our coach is constantly focused on making us better and more comfortable in the water. Today he challenged our sighting with a new “moving target” drill that made us find him on the beach after we cornered the buoy. And in an exercise he “discovered in a dream,” we did a staggered start, then swam single file and parallel to the boom (see above photo) for about 300 yards. if you passed, you had to go by on the right, then drop back in front of the person who was then supposed to draft you. It was race mode with a rising sun to our right and a curved boom to the left which created sighting havoc that would have leveled the playing field for Hellen Keller.

3. I forget techniques from one swim to the next – A week ago I wrote this post about sighting and today I completely ignored my own theory. My eyes were squeezing every ounce of reflection from the buoy for the first half of our workout. BUOY OR BUST! I mean, I was sucking the texture out of that floating latex through my foggy goggles. Eventually I calmed down and looked for bigger and general-direction targets that helped alleviate anxiety that comes from trying to spot a tiny white speckle each time I sight. It also helped me resist lifting my whole damn head out of the water.

4. Your mental state shapes your workout – I had a conversation with coach the other day about, what he said, was “the best swim workout he’s had in a very long time.” Then he added, “But I felt like that would be the case, even before I got into the water.” His mind was right. I wouldn’t say I was expecting the worst today, but I was probably only about 50% convinced I would crush the lake. 90% of that 50% can likely be directed at my lack of sleep, so as with most things in life, it comes down to recovery and energy, which is probably why I workout alone at 10PM most days.

5. I like swimming on Friday more than Thursday – As I drove away from the beautiful scene, I felt a tingle of joy creep over me knowing that the weekend was here. Then I hit a literal and figurative speed bump. It’s only Thursday! This is obviously a deep seeded issue because, frankly, what’s wrong with Thursdays? Nothing. Thursdays are pretty awesome really. Used to love them back in college because it was the big party night and Fridays were pretty much a blow-off. To make matters worse, one of the guys (who will remain nameless) has the day off today, ie . . . “is working from home.” Anyway, it’s never a bad morning at the lake, but some are better than others.

Follow me on Twitter @MikeTarrolly

May 7, 2014

$650 For Ironman And All I Got Was . . .

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“You paid $650 to do a race? What do you get for that?”

I heard those questions a hundred times when I was training for Ironman and always responded meekly with something like, “Well, a t-shirt, a medal, and the right to say I’m an Ironman.” I knew I’d get a lot more, but it was hard to express in the beginning.

As I sit here today without a race on the calendar, it becomes a lot clearer. It’s the first time since I started running in January 2013 that I have not had a firm goal on the horizon, and I can already tell how easy it would be to fall out of pattern.

Signing up for Ironman felt like the epitome. I would do many races along the way, but that big gorilla was always hanging out in the corner. I couldn’t escape him, and in a twisted way, I didn’t want to.

He was my nemesis and my guiding light. He was the one I feared and craved at once. It was a love/hate relationship for the ages.

There were many days I hoped it was a nightmare and others when it was my only dream. Ironman is living on the edge. It is exciting, painful, alive.

It’s a strange paradox because I believe humans were built to move, but we are also becoming lazy creatures. We don’t have to write letters, we just roll over in our bed and type notes on our phone. We don’t go to the bank or the library or the football games. We make them come to us.

So what did I get for my 650 bucks?

Motivation

Ironman doesn’t budge. It just waits for you show up. And you’d better be ready when you get there or it will eat you alive.

What did I get for my $650?

Great friends with positive attitudes

I can’t tell you how amazing it is to see the same people lining up on the beach at 6 am, three days a week to “practice” swimming. We are not professionals, we pay to do this! And we don’t get paid to ride 6 hours on a brutally hilly road in the rain or run hill repeats past aging couples holding hands on the Greenway. We embrace the challenges because they are there.

What did that 650 dollar investment get me?

A better connection with the people that matter most

Like most, my Ironman declaration didn’t initially resonate with my friends and family. I’m sure it was an afterthought, or at the most, “Mike’s got another crazy idea.” But as time went on, they saw the dedication Ironman demands. They saw changes in me. Positive changes, physically and mentally. They saw passion, determination, and commitment. And it was contagious.

My Ironman training piqued curiosities and inspired change in others. I can’t tell you how many people told me, yes ME, that what I was doing inspired THEM. More proof that what you do really does matter. People really do care. And when you break it down, isn’t that what we really want from our relationships?

What did I get for $650?

A memory of a lifetime

The first day of school, high school graduation, going to college, getting your diploma, your team winning the World Series, your wedding . . . then most start the cycle over by re-living those memorable moments vicariously through their own children. We need those sparks to keep us going. And, for me, the one without children, that’s probably why Ironman was so important. It was a big, juicy reminder that life doesn’t have to fade away without memorable moments that seize every fiber of your being.

A couple hours after the race I finally got around to reading my text messages. The first one I read said, “Congratulations! You must feel dead!” I replied with this simple line, “Actually I feel more alive than I have in 10 years.”

And that’s what I got for my $650.

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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

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.