Tag: frozen feet

Posted on

Rev 3 Olympic Knoxville – The Run

First of all, do any of you know if Rev 3 had photographers on the course for this race?

The Rev 3 Knoxville Olympic Run

Fresh off the bike, with frozen feet, I sat on the cold concrete and fought to slide on my new Pearl Izumi Tri N1 Racing Shoes.
42940-37682

I’d been wearing these bad boys around the house and while walking my dog, but never for a run.  Today would be the first.

They are very comfortable, but a lot different than the Pearl Izumi Streaks that I have been wearing. Honestly, though, I think I could have been wearing Uggs for the first few miles and not known the difference.

I just kind of chuckled as I slid my way up the rainy road out of T2.  I was a little disoriented and stopped for a second because I thought it was the wrong way.  I threw caution to the wind and kept “running.”  It felt like I had a tennis ball in each shoe right under my arch.  There was no thought of speed (and no watch to confirm) and I would have to be content with a shuffle.

After a mile and a half we entered a bike path that looked like a scene out of Katrina.  Every hundred yards or so it seemed like we were running through ankle to shin deep puddles from the overflowing creek.  Many runners ran on the grass, but I found the splashing water actually warmed my legs.

It was an out and back so we got to the turn at around 3 miles.  I still couldn’t feel my feet.

At around mile four I realized that no one was passing me, so my pace must have been pretty solid.  Then I heard the hoofs of a large man closing in on me.  I resisted temptation to look and he cruised by me like a gazelle.  Sure enough, I looked on his calf and this gentle giant was in my age group.  With just over two miles left, I suddenly had a war on my hands.

But evidently he wasn’t in the same trench because a minute later he was a hundred yards ahead of me.  I just shook my head and prayed for feeling in my feet.

Amazingly, as we exited the bike path, I spotted him ahead, still within striking distance.  He turned left over the bridge and I wasn’t far behind.  Suddenly I was on a very tight and flooded sidewalk with runners coming from the opposite direction.  Something didn’t feel right.  I looked up and my challenger had stopped.  I caught up to him and saw the confusion in his eyes.  Then there was confusion in my eyes.  Then panic.

We both turned around and went back over the bridge and out onto the road.  I was right on his tail, but upset about the transgression.  It wasn’t long before he created another cushion between us.  I just didn’t have my legs.

About mile five, I started to feel my feet and legs again, but I’m not sure it was a good thing.  They were a little weak and I was a bit gassed as I closed in on the dozens of fans waiting for us to turn into the home stretch.  I saw my coach running toward me, saying something about a “podium.”  I put my head down and ran after Mr. Green Jeans, but it wasn’t meant to be.

I crossed the finish line in just over 49 minutes.  The Gentle Giant finished about 1:30 ahead of me.  He took third in our age group.

I wasn’t disappointed, but have a lot of work to do on the run.  I felt great after the swim and bike, but the run was kinda like, “Oh, and now I have to run,” more than it was something I felt like crushing.

Everything I read and hear and learn points to the run being the difference maker in triathlons.  It’s so true.  A week before I averaged 7:27 in a half marathon.  Sunday, my pace was around 8 minute miles for less than half the distance.

Not to self: Trust frozen feet.

Posted on

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. 

Image

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!