Crushing Iron – Page 2

July 6, 2013

Ironman Wisconsin Videos

It’s a gloomy Saturday in Nashville and I’m off to a slow start. I’ve been looking around for anything and everything about Ironman Wisconsin. Below is a collection of videos I’ve spent my day with.

I’m gonna start with what is easily the best Ironman race recap video I have seen to date. I’m not sure how this escaped me until today, but it will be extremely enjoyable to watch if you’re doing IMWI.

Here’s another highlight reel that isn’t produced with music, etc. and gives you a better perspective of the natural environment from that day, including interviews with a few of the racers.

Here’s one by DW Wanberg, who gives play by play in his best Howard Cosell voice, which isn’t half bad! I kinda dig this one because it gives you an extended look at the swim, including a close up of the last swimmer to make the cut off. There’s also some cool perspective on the bike and leaving the Helix.

This one is by Simply Stu and previews everything you need to know about the Swim and the transition to bike. It’s a few years old and doesn’t reflect the change to a one loop swim course, but he gives you a great sense of direction for where you’ll be entering, exiting, and running (with a special focus on indoor soft carpeting) toward your bike. He also takes you inside the Helix and gives you a nice perspective on where you’ll change, then find your bike. Stu also has a triathlon podcast. If you want to save a little time, skip ahead to the 2:30 mark in the video.

This video is a view from out on the lake as the swimmers corner buoy number one. It gives a good perspective on what you’ll be up against at the first turn. Skip to the 5 minute mark and don’t watch for too long unless you want to get sea sick.

July 6, 2013

Crushing Iron: What it Means to Me

When I was contemplating this blog and what I would call it, my first choice for a name was “Chasing Iron,” but it was already in use. I was a little bummed, but thankfully Crushing Iron popped in my head. At first I thought was a little cocky, but Jim assured me it was “confident.” I usually trust Jim’s opinion, so the rest is sorta history.

I had a few things in mind when I started this blog.

1. I wanted a blog that lasted more than 10-15 entries like many in my past. To date I’ve published 222 posts. This was the first.

2. I believed that writing out my thoughts would help me focus and better understand the nuances of training. I think this is without a doubt the most underestimated benefit.

3. The blog would serve as an outline for the documentary. By the time we get to the race I will have averaged nearly a post a day and I think the words will be valuable memories.

4. I believe you have to be confident to succeed and “Crushing Iron” in the purest definition is empowering. But, it means whatever you want it to mean. I’m still not sure what “crushing” Ironman would mean to me. Some days crushing it would mean to simply finish. Other days, I dream about the perfect race that moves me through the finish line in under 12 hours. Some days even less.

I have started a zillion projects in my life and Crushing Iron is certainly one of the most “successful” simply because I am still writing, dreaming, and training. The blog and the brand began in selfish roots, but so many people have reached out and claimed they’ve been inspired that my mindset has shifted. It’s truly a lesson that everything is better when shared. I’m fortunate to have met tons of great people, both in person and online, and I hope that everyone of them gets a little something from the blog.

Crushing Iron has become a lifestyle. In many ways it has taken over my life and some of the changes have been difficult. In order to change you have to be willing to come apart, and on many occasions I have. I broke a very destructive habit of going to the local Pub more often than not after work. I have “lost” many friends on this path because I simply don’t see them. I have turned down a social lifestyle for the often isolated journey of searching on the inside.

But the nature of my challenges is changing. Going to the Pub doesn’t even cross my mind now and I’m not sure I could ever see that coming. I haven’t “quit” drinking, but I don’t use it as a crutch, and I’m not sure you can put a price on that victory, especially after 30 years of practice.

Crushing Iron started as a catchy name for training, but it has been the impetus for change. I can literally feel the sludge seeping out of my joints and a resurgence of youth that is undeniable. Hopefully you’re crushing a little iron yourself.

July 2, 2013

67 Days Until Ironman Wisconsin

I signed up 364 days before the race and nearly 300 have passed. I’m tied to the tracks and Ironman Wisconsin is pounding the rails in my direction.

For months it seemed like a mirage. I’d look at “swim start” pictures from Lake Monona and get goose bumps imagining the sound of the cannon. I still get excited, but it manifests in more of a reality because my feet are nearly wet.

I will be attempting a full Ironman in just over two months and I’ve yet to race a half. That will come in 12 days at the Muncie 70.3.

In some ways IMWI is the ultimate test of trust and patience. My training has certainly prepared me for a half, but doubling that output will take extreme faith and confidence. It’s especially crazy to me considering at this point last year I’d never even completed a sprint.

What I have learned in this relatively short period of time is that you should never doubt your potential. I have transformed from a couch potato into a spirit that believes he can complete 140.6 miles of swim, bike, and run in one day. If that’s possible, what isn’t?

And that’s what remains to be seen. Where can I take this momentum? Will I wake up that morning and Madison, Wisconsin a new man, or a nervous child? I hope it’s a little of both.

Throughout this process I have been chipping away layers of numb. I had been living in a shell, honestly dead to the world in many ways. The passion smoldered below, but I wanted a fire. I wanted to burn the masquerade. I wanted to ignite a flame that would force change.

Hitting “send” and transferring $650 into the hands of Ironman was a major step toward re-discovering myself, but this journey is just beginning. The intensity of our workouts and the relentless support of everyone training with me has pushed my limits further than I ever dreamed.

None of this has been comfortable, but that’s what I wanted. I wanted to feel the pain. The highs, the lows. I wanted to swing open the doors that were nailed shut. I wanted to push my boundaries off the map. I wanted to explore living by coming apart at the seams to find genuine purpose in this life. It’s still not clear, but I’m paying close attention and knowing that two of my close friends and training buddies just finished Ironman Coeur d’Alene inspires me to forget the bad swim I had tonight and go back for more in the morning.

May 20, 2013

How To Not Fail

The thing about training, and/or life, is you have to keep picking yourself up off the ground. I spent most of Sunday doing just that.

Saturday’s ride hit me hard. It was 50 miles I wasn’t ready for. The aftermath proved I wasn’t hydrated and my body was simply fatigued. I really believe I could knock out 50 miles in my sleep, but how I felt the day after put a ton of doubt in my head.

“You’ve got to get yourself together, you got stuck in a moment and you can’t get out of it.” – U2

My training schedule called for another long ride yesterday, but I just couldn’t get myself out of Saturday. I love my bike, but yesterday we were in a fight. I spent the morning sorting through my head with writing, then the afternoon doing yard work. I was moving, just not fast. I was hoping the energy for a ride would materialize, but it never did.

Even this morning I was a bit lethargic. Nothing gives you doubt like sore legs and low energy. But I got back to my plan. Hydration, nutrition, seize the day. I have two workouts ahead of me for this Monday, a swim and a run, and soon hit the pool with a renewed attitude. Time heals. So do perfectly timed posts, like this one by my coach.

May 15, 2013

Our "Plus One," Allison, Guest Blogs Her Gulf Coast Half

Allison started training with the Fab Five in January and has stayed with us the whole way. She was right there in early January, hammering spin bikes for hours, then joining us for frigid “brick” runs through the shadiest Nashville neighborhoods (Ie…Wasky’s* hood). It didn’t take long before all the guys welcomed her as “plus one” to make the Fab Five, “six.” Below is her awesome recap of a race that weighed on her mind for months and pushed her limits beyond anything she imagined.

70.3 – Gulf Coast Triathlon Race Re-cap – by Allison Leigh Miles

I was nowhere ready to train for a full Ironman when the Fab Five started tossing around the idea of racing Wisconsin, but I thought if I put my mind to it, I could focus on the 70.3 distance. Jim suggested the Gulf Coast Half, it was his first, it was at the beach where I grew up and it was in May so I had 5ish months to train. I was nervous but I committed to doing that race.

Race week got here much faster than I anticipated, but it was almost as though my mind was preventing itself from being nervous; I was way too calm. I had so many sweet friends write encouraging letters and cards. My good friend, Season, even wrote everything I needed to remember in a small square that I could attach to my race bib!

Jim and I rode packed up his Smart Car and headed down to Panama City bright and early on Thursday morning. He thought it was crucial that I have an extra day to get acclimated, settled and calm since this was my first 70.3 distance race.

We checked in to the hotel about 1pm and decided to do take a quick swim to test out the water temperature. Once Robbie got settled in his hotel, we met up with him, grabbed some dinner with a few of his other athletes and settled in for the night. We planned a SBR (swim, bike, run) workout the next morning with all the X3 athletes and I was a bit nervous. I was the only one who was new to triathlons and this distance specifically; they were all racing for PRs and podium finishes for their age group, I was simply TRYING to finish.

The swim workout did NOT go well for me; I was struggling to swim parallel to shore, got separated from our group and was wondering why in the world I thought this race was a good idea. I could tell by the tone of Robbie’s voice and the look on his face when he finally spotted me in the water that he was concerned too.

I was in full on silent panic mode coming out of the water, barely said a word to anyone else on the bike or the run, both of which went well I think but I was so mentally distracted by the swim I honestly don’t remember. Robbie, Jim and I met for a post workout chat/lunch and they knew I was freaking out so we talked a bit about expectations and what I needed to focus on going in to the race. I had a lot of things to remember, mostly regarding nutrition, but for the first time coach gave me a really vague race plan, and per usual I was banned from wearing a watch:

Swim controlled

Bike smart

Run fast

My first thought was seriously?!? I made it all the way here and THAT’S all you’re going to give me? I asked a few more silly newbie questions and started to feel better; I trust coach to help me achieve my goal, but made up some arbitrary goal times.

Swim- 60 min

Bike – 4 hours

Run- 2.5-3 hours

That put my estimated finish time right at 7.5-8 hours (I’ve been told to note that both Robbie and Schwan thought these estimates were complete crap and way too slow)

Robbie, Jim & I went to dinner at Angelo’s Steak Pit, with the other elderly snow birds just as they were unlocking the doors at 5 pm – that place was a madhouse, but we managed to get our pre-race steak and potato meal in, plus a glass of wine and a picture with none other than the local celebrity, Big Gus.

By 6pm the seasoned vets were ready for bed, but I was wide eyed and nervous as hell, no way I’d be sleeping much tonight. Between newbie jitters and the head cold (which I’ve just learned developed into bronchitis) I acquired almost a week ago, I woke up about every 2 hours. Around midnight I had a notification of a new Crushing Iron post Tarrolly wrote regarding the three of us racing -I read it, loved it, and remembered a note he sent me a few days earlier- he reminded me that the work was there, I simply had to trust it and stay out of my head.

My alarm went off at 4 am- we had to get out the door and walk the mile from our hotel to transition by 5 because my swim wave was the first to go off at 6:20 am and transition most likely closed by 6. By the time I got set up in transition, body marked, my wetsuit on and met up with the other x3 athletes I had about 5 min until my wave went off-

SWIM- CONTROLLED

My swim got moved up by 10 min, which I found out late the night before; I don’t like change AT ALL, so I was very anxious and antsy. Once I started walking towards the beach the nerves set in and needed a pep talk—I couldn’t find Robbie or Jim, but thankfully Carrie and Betsy offered to walk down to the start with me since their wave was going off second. We got there about 4 min before my start, some photographer that Carrie knew snapped our picture really quick, the girls zipped me up, got my cap on, talked about breathing, staying calm, and not worrying about time. They kept reminding me to stay relaxed and just focus on getting to the next buoy, not stress about how far I had to swim.

I stepped in to the start chute, had about 3 seconds to decide I wanted to start at the back of the pack, looked around to see if Robbie or Jim made it down to the start, didn’t see them, waved to the girls, and then the horn blew. I knew the water would be shallow at first and I could wide knee jump the waves, then it would get deeper and I’d have to swim, before hitting a sand bar and being able to stand up and jump again. What really happened was all the women decided they were going to wade out to their necks, then doggie paddle to the sandbar— that hindered my plan a bit because I couldn’t get around them until after the sandbar. Once I got beyond that, I started calmly swimming. It was a bit crowded at first and I had nowhere to go so it was a very slow start. Some girl next to me was having a complete meltdown so I decided to talk her through it since I couldn’t move any faster–that allowed me to stay calm before actually having to put any work in. Finally the field broke up, and for whatever reason–probably poor sighting on the lead swimmers part, the field took off to the right and I sighted the shortest path left to the next buoy.

I was still behind most people, but I didn’t want to go out too strong with such a far distance to cover. I focused on picking off the buoys one by one and finally got to the turn; everyone was out right so I got to cut close and just as I made the turn my cap fell off. I found it, stuck it back on, caught my breath and a glimpse of “control” written on my hand and re-focused. I turned and made my way across, I couldn’t see the shore or the other buoys yet so I sighted off a sailboat just ahead of me to the right–occasionally looking left to figure out when I could see the buoy–finally caught the top of it and headed towards it-made the turn towards shore and mentally took an assessment–legs weren’t kicking, arms weren’t tired, breathing wasn’t bad. I felt good but still had 950 meters left.

I picked off the rest of the buoys, elbowed a girl in the face pretty hard because she was trying to swim ON my back (Season told me not to be nice haha) then at the last buoy, with 125 meters left I decided to hammer it….two seconds later BOTH of my calves cramped up and I had to sit up in the water. I remembered Daniel Hudgins saying he tries to run through his cramps and they usually go away, so I flexed my feet, put my head down and plowed toward shore. They relaxed pretty fast, but the twinge would last all day. I swam over the sandbar and didn’t stand up until I knew the water was about thigh deep. I was walking faster than people were swimming around me so I started pulling my wetsuit off.

When I hit the sand I looked up at the clock and it said 44 min and some change. I was surprised and I remember thinking that the clock must have been wrong or that it restarted with each wave. I was so confused by my time that the woman behind me thought I couldn’t get my wetsuit unzipped (I paused with my hand on the string when I was trying to focus on the clock) and she kindly yanked the zipper down for me. There was no way I swam 1.2 miles in 44 minutes. Robbie later told me that my swim time was shocking, as in, no one expected me to come out of the water that fast, myself included. I walked the few hundred yards up the beach to the showers, ran through the showers and sat down on a bench to pull my suit off. I thought this was a better plan than trying to pull it off in transition and it paid off.

T1-

T1 was just about 4 minutes. I had to chug some cough syrup, spray some sun screen, and dry my feet off enough to get socks on. I decided not to risk the no-sock ride since it was probably going to rain and my feet would be drenched. I grabbed my helmet and sunglasses, slipped my bike off the rack, and made my way to the bike exit. My garmin was already set up for the 10 min interval alarm so I didn’t have to worry about starting it. The women that passed me while I was sitting on the bench calmly removing my wetsuit were still struggling as I rolled my bike out and on to the course. I rolled a couple yards past the bike mount sign, clipped in and I was off.

RIDE- SMART

Robbie told me I needed to ride smart, not hammer it, and basically survive. It was a fairly flat course with the exception of one bridge we had to cross twice, but I also knew it would most likely start raining at some point. Nutrition was going to be a HUGE component for me, so I needed to focus on taking in Gatorade or water every 10 min and nutrition every 30. Jim set my Garmin up to alarm in 10 min intervals, so all I had to focus on was spinning my legs and hearing the alarm. That worked beautifully.

The day before Season told me not to worry or get upset by the amount of people passing me on the bike. She told me that there were a TON of much faster, much more experienced athletes that would be coming up fast behind me and that if I just followed Robbie’s plan I would pass a lot of them on the run. These words turned out to be invaluable to me during the 56 mile ride.

Once I hit the highway, which comprised the majority of the ride, I watched the road ahead of me; it wasn’t smooth and the cones were not in a straight line so if you took your eyes off them for one minute you risked hitting one. My biggest stressor was the fact that other racers did not respect the “on your left” etiquette when passing. I spent a lot of time in aero, more time than ever before and felt comfortable; the next thing I knew I was half way through the ride and feeling great.

Up to this point, Robbie had caught up to me around mile 5, I saw Carrie and Mike on the first and second out and back and finally saw Jim around mile 38. It was so calming to have familiar faces on the course. I clearly was wearing a “newbie” sign somewhere on my back because it seemed like every experienced cyclist that passed me had some encouraging words or tips; I thanked each person for their offerings.

This was the first long ride that I didn’t have any negative thoughts or “get it together Allison and get through this” moments. When I hit mile 40 I stopped wanting my food, but kept drinking fairly regularly and right about the 45 mile mark it started POURING. It was sprinkling before, but this was full on downpour. I slowed down a bit knowing that it was notoriously windy the last 10 miles and I didn’t want to crash on the wet roads. I witnessed several crashes, falls, and many a racer that had clearly taken a spill based on the road rash flying by me. I had to come to a complete stop with about 5 miles left in the ride because a pickup truck decided to back out in my path, unfortunately the jerk riding behind me didn’t head my “I’m slowing” signal, sped around me, started yelling about not slowing or stopping during a race and promptly rode right in to the side of the truck—so sorry sir, you should’ve listened.

I got back in the groove, finished out the last 5 quite cautiously and couldn’t believe I was 2/3 of the way through the race. My time took a hit for riding smart, I finished at 3:40, but my legs would thank me later.

T2 took a bit longer than I wanted because the girl on the opposite side of the bike rack decided to rack her bike DIRECTLY ON TOP of my transition stuff, with her back tire resting squarely on my running shoes. She jammed her aero bars on top of the rack leaving it impossible for me to unwedge my shoes so I had no choice but to flip her bike up and grab by shoes (please note, its illegal and grounds for immediate disqualification for touching another athletes equipment. Had an official noticed any part of this, both her bike placement and my subsequent flipping, we both would’ve been out) I finally got my shoes on as a kind volunteer was picking up that girls bike from the ground on the other side of the rack, grabbed my race belt, visor and some nutrition which were all linked together and took off running, putting it all on as I tore to the opposite side of transition. About halfway to the exit I remembered that my garmin was still strapped to my bike. Robbie told me to leave it there, but the control freak in me just couldn’t let it go. I made a turn and snagged it off the bike, picked up speed and headed out to run. Just about 2:30.

RUN-FAST

Run fast, that’s what I was supposed to do. I had NO guidelines pace wise, just to listen to my body. I blew out of transition too fast, about a 8 min mile now that I’ve gone back to look at the splits, but I ended up catching up to an older super talkative guy. He asked me my plan, I said run fast and he said that he was planning on run/walking the entire race. I was only going to hang with him till I caught my breath and slowed down, but then he said he could complete the entire half on that plan in 2:06. I made the decision to stick with him as long as I could.

Even though my legs felt great, I was still worried about my calves cramping again and wasn’t sure how the 13.1 miles would play out for me. I saw Robbie on the second mile, of course in the midst of our first walk break, and I knew he wasn’t happy with me. I needed to stick with this guy and come out with a quick-ish half otherwise I’d never hear the end of it from coach. My buddy talked a lot and I blocked him out a lot but he stuck to the 5 min run hard, 1 min walk brisk and what seemed like 5 minutes later I heard him say we were approaching the 7 mile mark. My only thought was “well hell that went by fast…I’ve got this”.

Once I focused, I realized I hadn’t taken any liquid or nutrition yet and remembered Meg Willoughby telling me to drink the coke if it was offered. I snagged one at the next water stop and it settled well- I was feeling great. My hands were sore from gripping my bike in the rain, so I was grabbing the cold sponges, one for each hand, and holding on to them so I didn’t clinch down too hard. The miles ticked away and then we hit 12. Buddy (I don’t remember his name) said he was going to skip the last walk break and hammer it the last 1.1–I told him to go for it…I wasn’t going to walk either; I knew I couldn’t keep up with him but I would run as fast as I could. I sailed in to the finish, saw my sweet friend Lisa and her yellow lab cheering for me and caught a glimpse of the race clock. I thought it said 6:44 something. I WAS ECSTATIC. I had finished under 6:45!!!! All in all I finished my first 70.3 roughly 45-75 min faster than my estimate and 17 minutes faster than Robbie’s guess. I FELT AMAZING! I couldn’t believe it was over so fast or that I felt as great as I did when it was over.

* Wasky eventually became +2

May 7, 2013

Rev 3 Olympic Triathon Knoxville – My Bike Summary

Every day I feel like triathlon is helping me build a closer connection with myself. It’s a subtle, slow, and genuine burn that inches its way deeper into my soul with every stroke, spin, and stride. It began by setting a nearly unfathomable goal, but has now transformed into a lifestyle. Not a triathlon lifestyle, but a more confident, clear, and defined picture of who I am. And the most exciting part is, I barely feel like I’ve scratched the surface.

If you’ve never raced a triathlon, or more specifically swam a mile in 58 degree water, it’s really hard to understand the feeling of running barefoot on cold concrete for nearly half a mile. Your feet are numb and you’d better get used to it because the rain isn’t stopping and you’re about to pedal your bike for 25 miles with no socks.

Everything was warm, except my feet and hands, both of which would be extremely important in the upcoming moments. I relished the brief respite from the rain in the covered transition area as I gathered my bearings and decided what to wear or omit for my bike ride. The arm warmers were a lock (thanks, coach) but the knee warmers stayed in the bag. The helmet went on, I grabbed my bike, then ran it toward the bike exit. About halfway there I realized I was holding and not wearing my gloves. This was a problem. I stopped and tried to pull gloves onto my freezing hands and it was a total OJ moment. “The gloves didn’t fit.” I stood there for what seemed like several minutes as tons of racers blew by and my bike slid around my body like an oblong hula hoop.

All told, the run from the swim, the bike prep, and the glove fiasco took roughly six and a half minutes. The whole time, I was afraid to look at my feet.

But it’s moments like this when I try to think of something inspiring, and any time I feel sorry for myself for being cold I think of one man: Ernest Shackleton.

I’ve said it before, but if you’re into adventure, you have to read a book called, Endurance: Shackleton’s Incredible Voyage. Not only is it a great adventure book, it may be the most engaging grouping of words I’ve ever laid eyes on. “Simply Brilliant” says Crushing Iron blogger, Mike Tarrolly.

Here are a few Shackleton quotes to chew on:

“Difficulties are just things to overcome, after all.”

“I seemed to vow to myself that some day I would go to the region of ice and snow and go on and on till I came to one of the poles of the earth, the end of the axis upon which this great round ball turns.”

“After months of want and hunger, we suddenly found ourselves able to have meals fit for the gods, and with appetites the gods might have envied.”

“We had seen God in His splendors, heard the text that Nature renders. We had reached the naked soul of man.”

I mean, come on! This dude did not fuck around with exploring. “Endurance” is about an expedition to the South Pole with like twenty five guys who signed up simply for the adventure. Shackleton posted this ad in the paper to find his crew:

MEN WANTED for hazardous journey, small wages, bitter cold, constant danger, safe return doubtful, honor and recognition in case of success.

And you know what? He turned men away!

That book has helped me many times. Having cold feet is a metaphor when you try to envision what Shackleton and his men endured.

So, I finally looked and my feet were a similar hue to how I imagine them looking in my casket one day. I closed my eyes and thought of Shackleton (in the middle of winter, bobbing his way in an undersized wooden boat through the most deadly sea in the world wearing little more than a sweat shirt) and jumped on my Trek triathlon bike to ride in a misting rain along nicely paved streets in Knoxville, Tennessee.

I honestly don’t remember much of the bike leg (maybe that’s why I’m harping on the Shackleton thing . . . although, I seriously cannot recommend that book enough) but I do know it was an amazing course. It started along the river, swung up through a business district, dipped onto a major highway, then headed into the beautiful Knoxville hills. On a sunny day, the scenery would have been spectacular.

I think only two things could have gone better for me on the bike (aside from having race wheels). One was a situation where I was coming down the longest hill and could have really been cooking, but a car got in the way. There were also bikes in front of him, so he rode his breaks down the entire hill. We were probably going 20 mph and that could have easily been 28, but there was nothing I could do. I waited about a half mile until he finally turned off, clearing my way for another climb.

The other thing I did wrong was not listen to my coach and hammer the climbs. His logic was clear, “It’s wet, the course is pretty technical and you’ll be breaking a lot on the downhills.” I probably could have climbed harder and recovered on the descents. Lesson learned.

The last half mile was the same flat road along the river and I cruised in around 24 mph. I felt great, but my legs had joined my feet in the world of numb appendages. How do your legs and feet function when you can’t feel them? I can hear Shackleton laughing in my face.

I forgot to start my watch again and haven’t figured out my speedometer, so I had no idea how long the bike took, but I knew it was pretty solid. I started the bike in 141st place out of 355 total racers and ended in 100th. Average speed was 20 mph and the total time was 1:15 for 25 miles.

I dismounted my bike with one shoe still clipped on the pedal and one on my left foot, which made for a clumsy stroll through transition, especially on frozen feet, but the good news was . . . I’d get to run a 10k next!

May 1, 2013

Ironman Wisconsin

March 15, 2013

Thumbs Up for Daniel!

I’m kinda busy today, but every time I post something about Daniel and he shares it, I get a lot of views on my blog. So, here’s a little summary of the year to date and how great it is to have him as a teammate and a social media juggernaut.

We’ll start with one of my favorite running pictures ever. This is Daniel racing through one of Tennessee’s State Parks and I just love the fact that that guy behind him cannot believe he’s getting beat by a guy in a suit.

Below is Daniel with the rest of the crew at the X3 Christmas Party. That hair wouldn’t last much longer.This is a still shot from his first interview for Crushing Iron, a documentary. This wasn’t long after we all signed up for Ironman Wisconsin and his enthusiasm was palpable.

And just like that, his hair went away to raise over 3,000 bucks to feed people who are hungry. His sleek new look.

Here he is working out for one of the first times with his new haircut. He said he had trouble adjusting to his head being cold. This is actually Jim eating a hot dog, but I really like the shot. Below is Daniel doing an interview on the same day Jim ate that hot dog. And finally, here he is en route to setting a Fab 5 Half Marathon record of 1:33:30 at the Tom King Classic.

Thumbs up for Daniel!

March 13, 2013

This Ironman Training Takes A Lot of Time

Not only are we riding 2 – 3 hours a day on the weekend and plowing down awful tacos, we’re finding time to do interviews and soul search for the Crushing Iron Documentary. It’s not easy to manage and I just noticed for the first time that my calendar clicked over to 5 months until race time. Here we go.

Take it or leave it — This is me wondering how I got in front of the camera

Here are some more scenes from today’s footage: