Category: Wisconsin

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Running is King

I hated running and could fake a cry with the best of them if it would help me avoid jogging in gym class or later in sports.

But I loved biking, and did a bunch of mountain bike races, including Chequamegon Fat Tire 40 in Hayward, Wisconsin.  And while I have you, I’ll drop a reminder that I placed 1,500th out of 3,000 racers.  Exactly in the middle and 1,499 places behind Greg Lemond.

I swam a little bit, too.  My parent’s house was half a block away from the municipal pool in Beloit, Wisconsin and I spent loads of time hitting on girls and hiding boners in the shallow end. I love water, and while I was never a distance swimmer, I’ve always made time for a few laps at the local Y.

But running was a nemesis.

Frankly, it hurt.  My ankles have always been fragile and anything more than a dash to first base or out to play shortstop was too much.  In baseball we mainly ran sprints to loosen up and the teams I was on never overdid such tomfoolery.

Now, though, I realize that I missed the boat.  A little bit of distance running would have made me a better athlete, especially late in the game when the legs go south.  If I were ever a coach again, I would have to pull some hocus pocus out of my bag to convince the kids they need to run more.

Running is still hard.  It still aches the most of the three sports, but it is without a doubt the reason I have started triathlons.

Once I erased the mental baggage of running, everything else fell into place.  But I could have never done it without the Couch to 5K program.  I always went too far too fast and quit.

If you hate running, but have a perverted desire to do it anyway, I suggest you take it very slow and follow a Couch to 5K program to the letter.  No more.  No less.  Stay within yourself and let your muscles build naturally.

Without those seemingly inconsequential 60 second jogs back in January, Ironman Wisconsin never would have crossed my mind.  Running can be a bitch, but in my triathlete world, it is the real work.

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A Picture is Worth Dozens of Pounds

My good friend Roger is 5 weeks away from running his first marathon and has a photograph of me to thank.  Actually he was in the picture too, and what happened to us that blurry night was an undeniable catalyst for change.

Our friendship started innocently enough around two years ago when Roger and I (Both Wisconsin natives) hatched the grand plan for Badger Nation Nashville at the Village Pub in Inglewood, TN.  Wisconsin football was on a roll and we wanted to capitalize by using beer and cheese to seduce local residents into our social circle.  After several PBRs we penned these highly sophisticated, yet simple bylaws that have Constitution-like staying power:

Official Badger Nation Nashville Bylaws

1. No rooting against the Badgers.
2. Spread word of the Badger.
3. Don’t shoot badgers. (Ben’s Law)*
4. Don’t diss Jeffrey Steele.
5. Meet at Village Pub & Grill when you can make it.

Fast forward two years after the “bylaw meeting” to my house, where a nice group of Badger Nation Nashville kids are celebrating another big victory.  Roger and I had been drinking for about 8 hours and decided to give everyone a treat by singing Wisconsin’s Alma Mater song, “Varsity,” which was quickly caught on video.  The playback was astonishing.

I had always felt pretty good about my body, but when I watched the video all I could see was a blubbery seal flopping around on a leather sofa.  I begged fellow BNN member, Brian, not to post it on the web and thankfully he didn’t know how.  I went silent and may have even retreated to my bedroom to sulk. What I didn’t realize at the time was, the video had a similar impact on Roger.

It didn’t happen immediately, but our minds shifted to training mode.  Roger joined Weight Watchers and started running.  I laid around for a few more weeks before Jim convinced me to do Couch to 5K training.  I really didn’t want to run, but that video looped in the back of my mind. For the first time in my life I felt like a fat ass!  I had no choice.

I have told this story a bunch of times and I’m convinced that taking a picture of yourself is the best form of motivation.  Preferably late in the night after a drinking or eating binge.

Now, Roger and I are hatching different plans.  Five short months after that fateful photography, we did the Country Music Half Marathon together and the ante continues to rise.

What started as a 5K for me has turned into Ironman training.  Roger is ready for his full, with aspirations of a Half Ironman next summer.

It has been a dicey journey that started on a bar napkin and evolved into something etched in stone.  And even though the Badgers suck this year, I think Roger would happily join me for an encore rendition of Varsity after the last game of the season.

* Montana Ben is a Pub regular who spends his summers in Montana shooting badgers so they don’t fuck with his cattle.

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Iron Ego

I often wonder why I signed up to do Ironman Wisconsin.  It’s a huge physical and fiscal commitment that will take a ton of time and dedication but when I’m done . . . I walk away with a medal, t-shirt and the right to tattoo the Ironman logo on my right ass cheek.

Sometimes I wonder if this is a big ego trip that will make me feel like someone I’m not.  But the truth is, I believe this process will bring me closer to who I am.

Life can suck juice out of the best plans.  I mean, is it really natural for humans to sit in a classroom 7 hours a day until they are 22 years old, or in my case 30?  Then tackle a career by sitting at a desk 8 hours a day until you’re too old to move?  To top it all off, we spend the time that’s left on a couch or a rocking chair before hitting early bird supper.

I know I’m generalizing, but sometimes I walk around the office and look at dozens of people spending half their waking lives gazing at a computer screen.  And I can’t talk because I do the same thing, but frankly, that is some weird shit!

For me, the Ironman represents a quest to re-discover the purest form of my humanity.  It’s motivation that forces me to move, and along the way I anticipate dozens of side benefits–including some super tasty physiological treats.

But, there is definitely ego.  Or, at the very least, a need to rekindle a life of competition that faded away.  I played competitive sports most of my life and truly miss the high of winning.  But winning, when it comes to an Ironman or any kind of individual endurance sport, rarely means first place.

Winning is giving an honest effort to be your best and that is far more than clipping a few seconds off a stopwatch.  It’s about being healthy, clear, happy, honest, and releasing the person that’s been tied down in the corner.

And it’s hard when you invest this much in yourself because you have to evolve.  It takes patience and courage to leave the chair behind.  There must be movement, and when you move, it can seem like you’re running away from who you are.  But, for me, moving is simply re-discovering the best man inside and hanging out with him more often.

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The Fab Five Plus One

So here we were again.  Sitting around a table at Calypso Cafe talking about how awesome we are, but this time, our coach was on hand to keep us in check.

Kevin showed up with a big smile and belly full of beer.  Daniel had paint on his face and looked mildly like a warrior.  Jim sat across from me wearing shades indoors while reading the menu.  Mark was late from his rock climbing class and I sported my new mustache.  If nothing else, the Fab Five make for an interesting story.

Just to give you an idea of how these guys operate, here’s a workout summary from today:
Mark – P90x, 16 mile run, rock climbing
Jim – P90x, 16 mile run, antiquing
Daniel – P90x, 5K Color Run for the ladies
Kevin – A solid 6 hour training day that included at least two bars and 3-4 bar stool changes
Mike – Winterized the pool, ran over to neighbors

I think our new coach, Robbie, was intrigued by the challenge that sat around him plowing down Caribbean food and defending their training strategies.

“By the time training starts in January, you should be able to swim 2,000 yards,” said the coach as we all shook our heads with mouthfuls of beans.

He went on to say, “I’m big on bike training.”

“Mmmhhmm…” chomp chomp.

“Any questions?”

Kevin chimed in, “Yeah, is it possible to overtrain?”

“Absolutely, it’s better to be undertrained than overtrained.”

I stared in Mark’s direction, just to make sure he heard that.

“What???” he asked.

“Nothing.”

Coach gave us a few inside angles on how to handle Ironman Wisconsin.  He also confirmed the rumor that during the swim dead bodies have been known to float to the surface with all the commotion.  This, of course creeps everyone out, but I have something else at stake.  That dead body could be someone I know!  Maybe that long lost buddy from high school who went ice fishing only never to be seen again.  There’s nothing like bumping into an old/dead friend in Lake Monona to freak you into a record swim time.

Robbie suggested we take a road trip next summer to get familiar with the bike course, which was greeted with clinking bottles of beer.  “Here here, road trip!”  I volunteered the family cabin in Lake Geneva and flashed back to the legendary bachelor parties I have thrown in my mom’s favorite place on earth.  If we do end up getting a stripper this time, it will likely be low key and she’ll have to be done with her show by 8 so we can go to bed.

The evening ended with a promise to do our documentary interviews next weekend and a Pearl Jam “10” like raised hand pre-game explosion.  “Let’s go!”

And go we did.

Kevin and Jim went back to 3 Crow Bar.  Daniel went to scrub the paint off of his face.  I came here to write this.  Mark went to Tae Kwon Do class.

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Ironman Wisconsin: Registration Day

Let me tell you, if Ironman Wisconsin is anything as stressful as “registration” for Ironman Wisconsin, I am in deep shit.

Registration opened the day after the race at noon and I was reading stories around the web that said it could sell out in as fast as 15 minutes.  There were five of us signing up and I was a wreck thinking that I might be the only one to not get in.  It didn’t help that my boss called an 11:00 am meeting out of the blue.

Like most bosses, he is a big fan of hearing himself talk and this strategy session had me glued on the clock.  I thought I was good, but he opened a can of worms at 11:47.  It wasn’t much of a stretch to act like I was sick and run out of that office at noon, because I was getting queasy.

His can of worms was flying right over my head, and at 11:59 I stood up and declared the meeting over.  He looked at me like I was crazy (and I probably was) and asked where I was going.  I said I had something to do and that the rest of them were more than qualified to finish the meeting.

It was a bold move and I’m sure there was probably enough subordination to get fired, or at least a red flag in my file, but I didn’t care.  I would have quit at that moment and, as it turns out, still might.

It’s not just the Ironman that has me thinking about walking from the corporate world, it’s what the quest stands for.  Getting to the point where I actually believe I can do a full Ironman is a major change in my thought patterns.  I am turning into a different person, and that person is me.