Category: Triathlon

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Heading to Huntsville Marathon

If you would have told me a year ago that I would be taking road trips to watch people run I would have slapped you upside the head.  Now if you told me that, I would say, “You’re right.”

My friend Roger moved to Nashville from Wisconsin about 15 years ago.  He settled into his Inglewood home and dreamt of the day he’d be a full time musician and/or songwriter.  That dream festered for years, but in less than two months, it will be a reality.  He’s taking his catalog of beach-friendly-originals and moving to the Keys, a true Cheesehead in Paradise.

We met at the Village Pub one night and have spent numerous hours reflecting on our Wisconsin roots over cold (and sometimes warm) beers.  He likes to say I’m not really from Wisconsin because I grew up a stone’s throw from Illinois and am not very good on a grill, but there is an undeniable connection that typically shines in the stories we tell about our friends.

Roger and I formed Badger Nation Nashville one night on a bar napkin and spent much of last season pounding beer and pulling for new quarterback Russell Wilson and our beloved Badgers.  But one night last November, we noticed a similarity neither of us liked.

We had slowly turned into blimp versions of ourselves and each vowed silently to address the problem.  The next year would be different.

Today at 1:00 I’m jumping in the car with Roger and heading to Huntsville for the Rocket City Marathon.  I’m not running, but will be screaming from the sidelines as Roger crosses the finish line of his first marathon.

I’ll also be cheering for my buddy Jim, who is setting his goals on the Boston Marathon.  Jim has completed two Ironman’s and several other long distance races, but this will be his first stand-alone marathon.  If all goes well, I will be running the last 6 miles by his side as he chases history.

If I had to point to one reason I am so involved in training and pursuit of Ironman Wisconsin, it would be Jim.  He sacrificed a lot of time to plod along with me as I learned to love running.  He spent countless winter nights holding back his pace and dishing out motivation as I slowly built my confidence and ability.  I really hope to give something back to him tomorrow.

It really is kind of crazy in my head to think about driving 2 hours to watch a marathon, but I know those limited sightings go a long ways in helping runners push toward the finish.  That, and the more I get into endurance sports, I realize it’s less about me and what I can bring to others.  Hopefully my presence helps both of these guys hit their goals.

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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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Triathlon Simulation

This is how ridiculous I can be.  I came home after work determined to lay around and watch basketball, which I did for about 5 minutes. I got up, stumbled into the kitchen, ate an entire box of cereal, then decided, not only to workout, but to simulate a Sprint Triathlon at the Y.

I jumped in the pool and did a quick 11 laps (about 550 yards).  I did my best to imagine people beating the shit out of me, but considering there were only two old ladies on aqua bikes in the shallow end, it wasn’t easy.  I completed my first event in about 10 minutes, then ran into the locker room to dry off and change into sweats.

Transition One, about 5 minutes.

The large staircase was a welcome challenge on my way to the Spin Bike.  I deftly avoided a large woman talking very loudly on her cell phone and trucked toward the sterile room full of ugly machines.

I used to love working out inside at the Y, but after learning how to run outside, I’m starting to question the validity of “gyms.”  I mean, I get the weight part, I guess, but there is a Cross-fit gym not far from here that is in an old gas station and I love it when they open all the doors and flex “in nature.”

Inside workouts kinda bring me down.  But, I sucked it up and jumped on the Spin Bike next to a colorful woman doing short choppy steps on her Stairmaster, which I decided was some type of effort to be better in bed or on the dance floor.

I spun and spun for what seemed like forever, but looked up at the clock and it was literally only 6 minutes.  I was stunned, and, similar to most of my workouts, contemplated quitting.  But I didn’t.

There’s something about riding a stationary bike that is both bullshit and awesome sauce.  I sweat like a nun in a porn shop.  I mean, there were puddles building and the bike started to drift closer to my colorful princess.

Somehow I toughed out 25 minutes before heading to the janitor’s closet and grabbing a wet vac to slurp up the puddles around my bike.  My new lady friend didn’t seem to care and I noticed her ass was moving with a little more steam.

Transition two, about 3 minutes.

On to the treadmill for a quick 25 minute jog, or so I thought.  The minute that belt started moving I remembered how much I hate fucking treadmills.  I put the incline on “one” and pecked along at a 9 minute pace for, oh . . . about . . . 2 minutes.

I couldn’t take it.  My ankles felt like they were going to get swallowed into some kind of treadmill vortex never to be seen again.  There was nothing left to do, but chuckle, power down, and look forward to tomorrow night’s run with the East Nasties.

Post script:  I signed up for a 4 mile race on Thanksgiving morning and yes, I really did eat a whole box of cereal.  It was a smaller box, but I estimated about 1,000 calories.  Must be something to do with post-work-early-darkness depression.