Over the next few days I will offer a closer look at all the Fab Five members on a mission to crush iron in Wisconsin. The first is business owner, entrepreneur, and dad, Mark Scrivner.
I picked this photo because of the irony. With his energy and commitment to training, family and business, Mark will be a force (hopefully in this costume) to be reckoned with on the Ironman Wisconsin course. Learn more about Mark and his goals, hobbies, etc. by reading his answers to 10 questions (below this photo).
10 Questions for Mark Scrivner
1. Where are you from? Eldon, MO or central Missouri
2. What are your favorite running shoes? Brooks
3. What kind of bike do you ride? Cannondale Slice
4. What’s your age group for Ironman Wisconsin? 41-45
5. What’s your go-to workout meal? Penne pasta
6. Favorite Beer? Fat Tire
7. Favorite race to date? Tucson Half Marathon in Arizona
8. Three words you’d use to describe yourself. Outgoing, ambitious, focused 110%
9. What do you most look forward to on this journey? Training with the Fab Five and the finish. Least looking forward to? Summer Training.
10. What’s your best discipline? Running.
Four of the five Fab Five members showed up at 7:00 to ride the spin bike for an hour before spin class. I was the only one missing.
The training schedule called for a two hour bike followed by an easy 30 minute run, but since I’m listening to my body, I slept in a bit and got there at 8:00. I took a little shit for that maneuver, but the guys didn’t know what a traumatic experience I had in the pool last night (yes, this is what I do on Friday nights, swim).
I’m usually a little tight on Fridays from the workweek, so I stuck with my plan of a 300 yard breast stroke to loosen up, then complete the 2,000 yard light swim. Once again, I couldn’t find my stroke and it’s starting to piss me off. It’s like a perpetual level of mediocrity in the pool.
Somewhere around lap 16 I started to feel loose and settled into a nice pocket. I mean, I was ready to hammer the rest of this swim in gorgeous fashion.
I saw her out of the corner of my eye in the next lane. She was probably mid to late 30’s and swimming right with me for a few strokes, but two strokes later she was a body length in front. I kept repeating, stay on your stroke, keep cool. Then two body lengths, then three, then five and soon she was lapping me. I was crushed, but just couldn’t keep up.
I cursed my swimming and did my best to stay with her feet, but it was hopeless. I settled back in with my body and breathing. She stopped for a minute and I regained my composure. Now, I knew I was swimming faster and could hang on her next approach.
As I spun off the far wall, I saw her right behind me. I subtly kicked it up a notch to ward her advances, then saw her creeping up on my right again. I threw form to the wolves and hammered the water like a caveman. She was not touching the wall before me this time. I fought the waves and battled every pain in my body. Water flooded my mouth and I spit it in her direction like a heavyweight boxer. I would win!
My flailing only seemed to make her chuckle. She cruised through the water like a dolphin. A smooth ocean creature at piece with her environment watching as the land-dweller panicked. She flew by me like I wasn’t there and, it hurt more than normal because when she pulled away, I noticed she was doing the backstroke! This woman just pummeled my dreams from her easy-chair.
So, as I concluded my 1,500 yards (yeah, you caught me), I did what any competitive athlete in my shoes would do. I waited for her to stop and asked her for advice, which she happily gave and was instantly second-guessed on the first Youtube swimming video I watched later. It’s all so confusing to me.
With my swimming nightmare in the mirror, I staggered into our group bike with weak legs and low self esteem and as luck would have it, the spin instructor was a mid to late 30’s woman who proceeded to kick my ass on the bike. These women, I am telling you!
I stuck it out for an hour, then ran with the Fab Five minus 2 plus one (Allison) for 30 minutes in the rain. I’m guessing we were around a 10 minute mile pace and climbed some nice hills, but I felt very strong. Then, of course, I crushed breakfast.
Well, today (sort of) concludes my first official week of Ironman Wisconsin training. We were supposed to start the Monday before New Year’s Day, but that didn’t quite work and I didn’t lift a finger until the day after my Badgers tanked in their third consecutive Rose Bowl! At least we got there again!
As you may know, there are five of us training together for Ironman Wisconsin and the results for week one are mixed.
Mark and Kevin hit the ground running and as far as I know have completed every workout. I know this is fact because Mark’s bicep looked huge when he was eating hard boiled eggs at Sunday’s East Nasty breakfast.
Daniel, who is having foot problems, completed only one bike session, and will have to miss his Disney Marathon. Poor guy just shaved his head for charity, now he’s walking around bald with a sprained mid-foot.
Jim came down with the flu and hasn’t been able to workout, but that didn’t stop me from interrogating him for our documentary.
As you can see he is nice and toasty in his unofficial Ironman Wisconsin blanket and looks like he just finished back to back Ironmans. At one point during the interview he coughed, then gasped for air before saying, “Wow, that was the deepest breath I’ve had all week.” It hurts me to see him out for the first week or two, but there’s still plenty of time for this soon to be 3 time Ironman.
As for me, I have been doing the best I can with the workouts, but some of them are out of my league. I am banking on the fact that our coach is aiming high and hoping we get close to the target, especially considering last Friday’s workout called for 3,000 yards and my “water anxiety” was so high I had to stop in about 15 minutes. That haunted me most of the weekend, but this morning’s swim was probably my best ever. So many ups and downs!
My ass is not taking well to the bike trainer, but I got some exciting advice from a seasoned Ironman over the weekend and am excited to slap a little more lube in my shorts for the next ride. I’m also fired up to hear it’s supposed to be in the 60’s this weekend and I’ll get to ride outside.
The program has called for two runs so far, plus one tonight (and yes that means this is a two workout day). I’m anxious to get home and do a light 45 minute run with some one-mile-pace intervals sprinkled into the middle.
Tomorrow is weights in the morning and bike after work.
I have mentally prepared for this schedule for months. We have been filming the documentary all along and, to a man, we truly believe the process is the best part. I cannot wait for the weather to break so I can set up the pool and use it for recovery after grueling runs and rides.
Well, last night was a first. Fellow Fab Five Ironman teammate, Daniel Hudgins, put his flowing mane on the line to help homeless folk get their lives back in order. Daniel had let his wig run wild for about a year and last night was the culmination of a fundraiser that generated over $3,000. The gist was for people to donate money so that he would keep or shave his hair. The tally went right down to the wire, but a last second check for $300 by our coach, Robbie Bruce, but the “shave” side over the edge. I was there with a camera and caught every drop of Daniel’s “nervous sweat” on video (a can’t miss thriller that will be posted later tonight). In the meantime, here’s the result.
Training Notes: This morning I rose with the crack of dawn to meet Kevin at the East Nashville YMCA for a leg workout. It was my first “official” Ironman Wisconsin workout of the year and I was astonished by two things:
1. people are actually up at that hour
2. how amazingly weak my legs are even though I have been swimming, biking, and running for the last year.
We did simple lunges, squats, leg presses, calf raises, box steps and the like and I could literally feel dozens of unused muscles at work. The workout left me humbled and amazingly optimistic because I really feel that strength training is going to make a major difference in triathlon results.
That’s what I hear anyway. But, it’s not looking good.
The good news is, the Fab Five got together yesterday for a little video work before training kicked into gear. We did a little drinking and, of course, discussed swim strategy.
It’s 9 months out and we are having a lot of fun with this, but now is the time to get our butts in gear. It looks like our first full team workout will be Wednesday night. A sixty minute interval run with 30 to 90 second bursts. It’s not gonna be easy, but the question is, “How Bad Do You Want It?”
Last Saturday, I ran to remember victims and support families of the Sandy Hook shootings in Newtown. What started as a simple text message (from our Ironman coach, Robbie Bruce) to get 26 people to run 26 miles in honor of 26 victims, turned into over 1,000 runners raising 10’s of thousands of dollars. It was an amazing show of support and unity by the Nashville running community, but many others from around the country and world joined to show support for a community that has been through something we will never understand.
I am truly fortunate to be surrounded by so many positive and active people. Before I joined the other runners, I captured the energy and compassion of an amazing event with this video:
It has been a rough week for several reasons, but I finally feel like I’m back in the groove after running “The Nasty” (route 12 of the East Nasty Running Club circuit) last night. It never ceases to amaze me how that course makes me feel like a better runner the next day (more on that later). What also never ceases to amaze me, is how awesome the Nashville running community is.
Everyone was shocked, horrified, and touched in different ways by the Newtown shootings. It truly is unfathomable, and I think the only way to counteract things like this is to pour more love and compassion into the world. That is exactly what’s happening here.
On Monday our coach for Ironman Wisconsin, Robbie Bruce, put out a feeler idea to see if anyone would be willing to run 26 miles for the 26 victims in Newtown. The responses trickled in for a few hours, then went viral.
As of this morning there are over 500 runners signed up to either run 26 alone or as part of a relay team. Each mile will garner a minimum of one dollar for families of the victims in Newtown.
All of the local media has embraced the event and runners, along with several volunteers will flood the streets of Nashville Saturday morning to spread their love and energy to people who need it more than ever. I’m very proud of the way Nashville responds to people in need and feel blessed to be surrounded by runners, bikers, and triathletes who are always willing to spend their time to do the right thing.
Before East Nasty floods the streets on Wednesday runs, Mark Miller stands before us offering sage advice, group events, and a list of great things the running club is doing for local schools and charities. I’m not sure why, but every time he stands on that hill and “calls for everyone to move closer,” I imagine he is the Guardian Angels’ version of Cyrus from the Warriors.
The Warriors is a 1979 Cult Classic that follows one gang’s (the Warriors) struggle to make it back to Coney Island after being framed for shooting New York’s kingpin or the underworld (Cyrus) at an all-city gang retreat in Central Park. As you can imagine the Warriors did a lot of running in the movie and it made me wonder what it would be like to have other running clicks trying to take us out as we pound the streets of East Nashville.
“Can you dig it?”
The East Nasty “Warriors,” hit the streets armed with tight lycra, head lamps, and Gu energy packs. The goal: Talk or run our way to a safe return to 5 Points (Coney Island).
We turned right on Woodland with eyes peeled for the NRC “Boppers” led by Lee “Big Moe” Wilson, Hunter “Boxcar” Lane, and Season “Greenback” Kaminski. The Boppers roll in purple vests, ties, and fedoras and protect their turf with high speed chases. They are difficult to miss and even harder to escape.
The Boppers, however, must have been grilling veggie burgers out back because we cruised through Upper 5 Points without incident. But a new challenge awaited as we descended a short hill on mid-foot onto the turf of the Lipstick Lounge “Lizzies.”
Starr, Sarah, and Roxanna use seduction as their weapon of choice. They lull you to sleep with flashy smiles, spike your drink, then steal your girlfriend. Fortunately they were distracted by Karaoke night and we rolled by unnoticed.
We pushed the next hill with intrepid smiles and gazed an eery school building which doubles as the home of a low class outfit known as The Orphans. Often found lurking in dirty green t-shirts and jeans, the Orphans are more bark than bite. They have low numbers and offered little opposition to nearly 200 Nasties armed with water bottles and reflective vests.
Glancing at our Garmins, we turned down Eastland then crossed the dangerous 14th Street intersection before hearing the startling sound of clicking beer bottles emanate from a rundown hearse. We turned down our iPods and noticed the disturbing rattle was accompanied by a hipster vocal.
“Nasties . . . come out and play . . . ”
The Bad Kroger “Rogues” were up the their old shenanigans. Always a spine-chilling sight, the Rogues are a prominent street gang typically too drunk on 40’s to pose a real threat. We cut a hard left and headed toward safer terrain.
But we were far from home.
This particular route is called “The Church Run” and several gangs were sure to be waiting, including The Southern Cross.
We weaved our way to Fatherland and headed straight into harms way at East Park. Even though it’s the off season, everyone knows the Baseball Furies are in Winter Training. Sure enough, less than one block from their natural grass turf, I caught a glimpse of pin striped uniforms and heard the signature sound of baseball cleats clicking on pavement.
Luckily one of the East Nasties is an college baseball umpire and knows how to eject angry ballplayers. Another scare averted.
After the Furies’ fiasco, there was only one obstacle looming, but it was a big one.
The Shelby Street Turnbull ACs cruise the neighborhoods in a ragged school bus and get their kicks from picking on defenseless runners.
Our only hope was to catch them napping because Shelby is a big ass hill with no escape routes. We turned our headlamps to dim and made a run for it. Thankfully, the Turbull’s didn’t see us until it was too late and their bus wouldn’t start. These guys are a lot of things, but runners isn’t one of them.
On this night, the East Nasty Warriors would prevail. We told war stories at home base, took off our colors and strolled down the street to the running club Christmas party.
I weaved through fancy running machines at the Margaret Maddox YMCA with my eye out for flowing silver hair. It was the coldest night of the season and Jim said he wanted to run 8 miles on the treadmill. Eight miles, just 3 days after his marathon.
He wasn’t hard to spot and I circled around to wake him from the trance.
I said, “Hey.”
He said, “Hey man,” which was followed by an awkward pause while he tried to turn down his iPod.
I poised myself for confrontation.
In my best Kosmo Kramer impersonation, I screamed, “Look at you!”
“What?,” he replied while coasting along at a 9 minute pace.
“You’re snake bit!”
He smiled and said, “What do you mean?”
“Your not even thinking about Ironman! You’re addicted to marathons!
He was a kid who just got caught sneaking brownies off the top of the fridge.
“You may be right.”
I said, “What would Kevin think of this behavior?!?” (in reference to our fellow Ironman training partner).
Jim said, “He probably wouldn’t care.”
I just shook my head and said I’d see him after my swim.
These running people are crazy, and I’m not sure what it says about me . . . but I get it. Something about simply putting on shoes and getting after it is really quite scintillating.
Jim didn’t forget about Ironman, but he is totally smitten with the glory of marathons. And let me tell you, nothing gets a woman’s attention like salt piling up on your forehead while plodding down the road for 26.2 miles! I mean, it’s kinda the same attention you get from picking your nose, but hey, if it feels good, let it rip.
He didn’t qualify for Boston at Huntsville, so now he is all in on New Orleans, and I wouldn’t bet against him. This has just become personal and Jim has a reputation to keep.
But, let’s get back to me!
I did, in fact, go for a swim last night. I lollygagged through 1,500 yards and decided that since I am still into triathlons, I would jump on the spin bike. I peddled for 20 minutes and talked myself into ending the night with a nice little one-mile treadmill run. One solid hour of three disciplines and let me tell you, I feel like a million bucks today.
Tonight, it’s back to the road for a 4.5 miler with the East Nasties. I’m not sure if Jim’s running, but I can assure you I will be seriously contemplating dropping the 1/2 and signing up for the New Orleans full. After all, I kinda like the idea of qualifying for Boston myself.
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In other news, Ironman Wisconsin team member, Daniel, has a special announcement coming out soon. He came over last night for a top secret video project I hope to finish tonight so he can post on his blog.
One of my biggest concerns about Ironman Wisconsin training is getting my ass out of bed. I am “Notorious BIG” for sleeping in. I would rather workout at 10 pm than than get up at 5 to jump in anything but another bed. I wonder if Ironman would entertain moving back their start time?
Adding to this pressure is the fact that everyone in the “Fab Five” goes to bed at like 8:00. Well, maybe not Kevin, but regardless, they like their mornings.
Maybe I need to change my perspective on what I’m waking up for.
Like most kids, I sprung from the sheets on Christmas morning. I couldn’t wait to see what Grandma T. pulled out of her arsenal. She was “Notorious BIG” for going ape shit with presents. Me and my brother would literally have to go to her house and help load the van on Christmas morning. Her breezeway overflowed with gratitude.
“Hey, Grandma, who is Joey? Does this present go in the van?”
“Oh, no. Joey is the son of a woman I know through Alter Guild at church.”
“What about Constance?”
“Oh, she’s the third cousin of Bill, who drives trucks for the County.”
“Everett?”
“City Manager.”
What??
Yeah, it seemed like she bought presents for everyone our hometown. Likely the most giving person I’ve ever known.
So, you’re probably saying, “Why didn’t some of your Grandma rub off on you??”
Well, maybe it’s about damn time!
How do I translate Grandma’s legendary giving skills into my morning workout?
For one, drop the ego and make this about something else. It has to be about a higher calling. Yeah, like my training team, the Fab Five!
If I’m not there for an early workout, they will surely be sad and feel like something is missing. I would hate to detract from their workout because I was up late cleaning my kitchen or surfing the net for anything that would distract me from going to sleep.
And I could start each morning with a gift!
As the owner of a video company, Mark would surely find joy in some of the old electronic cords I have lying around the garage.
Ohh… and Daniel would love some of my old clothes to use as crazy costumes for future races. I have a great shiny red cape that would fit his super hero mold like a glove.
Jim likes trinkets and candles and stuff, which is good news because my junk drawer is loaded with mystery items that would brighten up his day.
Coach Robbie is big time on craft water and I have some serious connections, not to mention several spigots.
And for Kevin, there is at least a week’s worth of “older” beer tucked away in the bottom corners of my fridge. He’s not picky!
Yeah, I like it. Let the gift DRIVE ME! I’m sure Grandma got a much bigger rush out of giving than receiving. And what’s a guy that has everything like me need with half the stuff that’s cluttering my place? Simplicity rules and I’m nearly ready for bed.
