imwi – Page 4

August 19, 2013

Well, I Got My Bib Number #IMWI

First, I’d like to say thanks to everyone who contacted me about my neighbor’s 23 lessons for training. We were both happy to hear athletes all over the Southeast putting the advice right into their Ironman workouts.

Secondly, I have a bib number: 2705.

It’s not quite as permanent as being etched in stone, but having an official race number adds another layer of authenticity to my commitment. I’m not gonna lie, I was 90% sure I clicked send payment, but haven’t really been paying attention to emails (and am typically not the most organized person) so I honestly thought there was a remote possibility my name may not show up on the race list. I mean, I knew I signed up for Ironman Wisconsin, but it was a long ass time ago and stuff like payments or lists can really get screwed up in a year.

But, clearly they have saved a spot for me.

Two years ago I had no clue what an Ironman was other than the distant memories of my childhood when I’d watch Kona and think those people were martians. The sport didn’t even compute with the logic centers of my brain, and frankly, I’m not sure it does now. But who said any of this was about being logical?

For me it’s been about breaking those boundaries down. Too much logic can paint you into a corner and turn your life into a big pile of dust.

I truly believe we are limitless and it’s never too late to pursue even the wildest dreams.

Not that it’s good, bad, or even belongs in a blog about Ironman, but Ray Krok didn’t start McDonald’s until he was like 65 years old. I actually read his biography called, “Grinding It Out,” and aside from the fact that he was, in many ways, leading a revolution that would compromise the health of human beings; he was incredibly passionate and followed his dream with tenacity of a 20 year old.

I have no doubt that Ray Krok could have done an Ironman if he put his mind to it and have no doubt you can do something equally challenging.

Why? Because in just over a year and a half, I have taken myself from the fetal position on a couch to the doorstep of Ironman. It has been anything but easy. I have loathed at least half of the workouts, but kept jumping in the water, hopping on the bike, and lacing up the running shoes.

As they say, 90% of life, is showing up, and I can assure you I’ll be showing up on September 8th.

20 Days Out Lesson – Neighbor James

“Mondays are a trip, man. It aint easy to get up and dance. But you gotta dance! Grab that little Speedo u got, then get your ass in a lake and dance with the barracudas!”

August 17, 2013

Long Rides Are Getting Shorter . . . For Now

Today was my last long ride on Natchez Trace before Ironman Wisconsin. I referred to the Trace as a god forsaken place in a post on Facebook, but that’s only because it is always a tough ride. A long and winding road that seemingly goes forever and nowhere.

The forecast called for a 10% chance of rain, and I guess the Trace was the 100% of the 10% because it rained for 80% of my ride. (That sounds a little like a Yogi Berra quote).

It was cool, gloomy, and wet as Jim, Jonathon, and Danielle led me out of the rest stop at mile 440. We headed out toward Mississippi.

About two miles in I realized I forgot to put Perform in my water bottles, so I knew I wasn’t going out too far before turning around. I was loaded with Power Bars and Shock Blocs, but I have recently learned I cannot exist on water alone.

Blah blah…. I rode about 85 miles in close to five hours, mostly alone with my thoughts and tired legs. Wrecked legs. Legs ready for some relief, that will come in small doses for the next three weeks before I put them into a vice at IMWI.

It’s easy to let your mind wander on an 85 mile solo ride, but I tried to “feel” the race. To climb hills tactically and save my legs, even though they were already gone.

The entire training experience has been incredibly mental, but as we reach our peak mileage, the mind is ultimate truth. Welcome the pain and fight it off however you can. Beat up your legs and let them get used to that feeling, embrace it like a masochist. Turn that weakness into strength and flow in the moment, let the discomfort come . . . then fade away.

If you break it down, everything in life can become a metaphor for life. Ironman is no different. There will be many peaks and valleys along the 140.6 mile course, it just comes down to how we respond.

August 16, 2013

23 Lessons, 23 Days Out #IMWI

If you’ve been reading the blog, you already know my neighbor, James, thinks I’m crazy for doing Ironman. Well, today, he popped his head through the bushes and offered some pre-race advice.

I told him things were going well and we’re only 23 days out from the race. He said, “Aww, dayum! I know what’s up. I went thru that exact same thing back in the day when I was gettin’ ready for my concert.”

“Concert?”

“Oh, hell yeah, I used to tap dance for the church team.”

“No shit?”

“No shit, and it was some shit! We drove that rusty ass van all the way to Savannah for the church championships.”

“Wow.”

“Okay Mike, I see how hard u been workin. Let me outline some shit, cuz I’ve been right where you at right now, and this is how ya next 23 days gonna work.”

Day 23 – That’s today, bro. You all out here mowin the lawn with your bike gloves, but your mind… see, your mind ain’t even here. You lookin’ off in the damn clouds and ya dog, Mattie, want some food.

Day 22 – Gonna be a lot like today, but u got a whole weekend to think about shit. You gonna wish u could mow the lawn again, but that’s neither here or then, so u gotta keep your ass straight to the ground, u hear what I’m sayin?

“Uh, Yeah.”

Day 21 – You gonna be hungover as hell cause one of ya swimmin friends got a birthday party or some shit and I know u ain’t listenin’ to what I’m tellin you right now. You gonna be all depressed and thinkin u need to get your head together, but Man, I’m tellin u, all u need to do is put on them tight shorts and ride that damn bike just like I would drag my ass outta bed and dance. You feel me?

“Yeah”

Day 20 – Mondays are a trip, man. It aint easy to get up and dance. But you gotta dance! Grab that little Speedo u got, then get your ass in a lake and dance with the barracudas!

Day 19 – I know u hear what I’m sayin, but it ain’t sinkin in… look at u chewin on them little energy candy packs like they gonna help u mow the lawn faster. Listen up!

Day 18 – Man, it gonna be mid-week and u gonna have some doubts, but u can’t let that shit up in you. We all had our doubts, but keep ya eye on the prize. Shine them damn shoes or eat you a salad to keep ya weight down. You gotta be light, man. You can’t dance all day if u got a big ass at night.

Day 17 – My lil James Jr. gonna come out that door right there and start yellin, “Mr. Mike, Mr. Mike,” and you gonna be like, “Damn, James Jr. out here screamin ‘Mr. Mike’ again.” And you gonna be right, but he just wanna say what up. Take a minute to say he a good kid.

“Done.”

Day 16 – Man, you start forgettin’ what day it even is. Could be Thursday or might be Tuesday. Don’t matta. You know what TIME it is. It time to put on that big ole’ watch and run your little white ass down the block a few times.

Day 15 – When I was in my prime, I’d watch me some Sammy Davis Jr. and dance right in front of the T-V all damn night. Rollin’ that shit back on VHS until my mom spanked my ass with my own damn belt. Aint that some shit? Tap dancin with my boy, Sammy, and mom breakin’ bad on my ass. The point is, you gotta get ya passion right. I was so deep in my dance I didn’t even feel that belt, unless she got me with that buckle, then I would eject that tape, head straight bed and ice my feet.

Day 14 – You gonna think I’m full of corn, but when you two weeks away from ya dance, you gotta forget all the moves. Sit back with your friends and just talk about shit u don’t care about. Hell, my boy Mincie talked out both sides his mouth bout that damn Flipper show and I just shook my head and ate biscuits. Sound crazy, but he kept it real and real is what it is.

Day 13 – Okay, now I’m gonna tell u somethin, but it ain’t what you hope. You gonna start worryin’ bout everything. Like nightmare and dream shit that straight out a Stephen King movie. Like u tryin to spot that swim buoy but ain’t got no eyes or u runnin’ on hot burnin’ coals or u forgot ya swim cap. But that just ya mind fuckin wit u. I had a dream once and I was dancin’ on my damn hands. Ain’t that some Jackabilly?

Day 12 – Not gonna lie. Day 12 ain’t for nothin’ but lettin’ your nerves calm down from that Stephen King shit. Nothin else u can do, really.

Day 11 – Man, I started thinkin’ bout my dance routine and couldn’t remember a damn step. You prolly gonna think u can’t run a straight line or u gonna put that tight ass wetsuit on backwards. Mike, look at me. Don’t take that shit personal! You can do what you think you can’t do no matta what you think that is, or isn’t or might be. Like Mincie used to say, “Lotta times, it is what it isn’t.”

Day 10 – This when u gotta make amends wit ya mom for whippin u wit that belt. She done forgot that shit a long time ago, but it gotta clear ya head if u wanna show up on that stage. She was just doin what she thought u needed and I damn well deserved a belt sometimes, and for real, I didn’t know Sammy and he didn’t know me, so I really can’t figure out why I was so hyped on that dude. It really come down to who you know and takin’ care of them first. Like yaself, Mike!

Day 9 – Them Mayans used to talk about single digit numbers like they was somethin real important and those cats had it just about right. Am I lyin? Made a damn sun dial and didn’t even know what the sun was. And ate fresh food and ran all damn night. See, that’s what you need, Mike. Eat you some fresh food and quit runnin ya mouth.

Day 8 – Bro, we was rehearsin’ like it was no tomorrow. They had them speakers on so loud I started doin some crazy ass dance nobody eva seen before. The coach came over and said, “What the hell kinda dance you doin, James?” I said, “I don’t know coach.” He said, “Well, go ahead and save that for ya girlfriend, cause it don’t make no damn sense to me and it sure ain’t got nothin to do with the show.” You with me, Mike?

“I think so.”

Day 7 – They say 7 is a lucky number, but when you 7 days out from ya dance, that superstition get all crazy up in ya head. I was wearin the same socks all week and momma was like, “Damn, boy, I bought u some new socks and you gotta go stinkin up the house cause you worried bout your tap dancin.” She was right, cuz my feet stunk like the trunk of your damn car, Mike. Ain’t no pair of socks gonna win that race. Change that shit up.

Day 6 – I think I told you about day 6 before when we was both on our weed eaters out front. Day 6 is some shit cause you start thinkin’ bout runnin’ away and hidin’ in dumpsters or at ya Grandma’s crib. Ain’t gonna work. You gotta get ya head straight and start hearin’ the music right. They warmin’ up the symphony and your ears betta get used to them sour notes.

Day 5 – Man, I never slept so good in my life. I mean, I surrendered myself to the concert like I was in AA turnin’ my wrongdoings over to God. It felt good, too. My body was light and I was movin’ like that one white dancer dude, Fred Stair and whatnot.

Day 4– I was hearin’ them church bells in my head like u gonna start hearin’ that cannon shot. Bam! Over n over. Drivin’ down the road, and cannons gonna be poppin’ all up under that runnin’ visor u got. That gonna be a good time to stop thinkin’ bout cannons.

Day 3 – That doubt gonna be creepin’ and u just gotta remember one thing. Ain’t no time to be doubtin’ on yaself. Man, I kept lookin’ at my dancin’ shoes and I swear they looked too big. Like clown shoes n shit. I thought I WAS a clown and started tellin’ bad jokes, but people was like, “Damn, quit bein’ a clown,” and I decided that was a good idea.

Day 2– Okay. You one day from the dance, so what you gonna do? I thought so. You gonna get you some damn rest. Don’t be messin’ with that sight seein’ or shoppin’ for souvenirs. Get you a Flipper box set and wear it out. Get you thinkin’ bout the water and nice fish with happy little noses.

Day 1 – Mike, you my boy, but this one’s on you.

August 15, 2013

Ironman Chattanooga: Should I Stay or Should I Go?

Okay, Wasky has called me out: Do I have the balls to sign up for my second Ironman before I even do my first?

I fear the answer is yes.

My Facebook feed and text messages have been exploding all day long with 100% commitments from nearly every triathlete I know in Nashville. I’m quite sure a survey would show at least 20 people who are in, and that is hard to resist.

We heard rumblings of Ironman Chattanooga a few weeks ago, but now it’s officially September 28, 2014. It’s also about an ironman bike distance away from my house. Is there any doubt?

It is the very first Ironman in Chattanooga. Training the course will be easy and often. Plus, I’ve never actually spent time there and hear great things about where the city is headed. Can I afford NOT to do it?

Plus (and this is a big one) it’s Racer K’s hometown. He’s coming to mine for IMWI, so I feel like I need to return the favor. And, I’ll get to see his mom again, which is always nice. Is it fate?

All that said, I would really like to wait until after Wisconsin to make the decision, but I fear it will sell out fast. It is a short jaunt for a huge portion of the population and I can’t imagine slots being open for more than a few days.

I also thought it would be cool to chill for a year after my first Ironman and follow my triathlon passion with a series of Olympics in cool towns where I could take a nice little vacation and not worry about training so hard. Ironman training has changed my life, but it is a major time sucker.

For now, my mind is occupied with the first Ironman. I can’t afford to get sidetracked thinking about number 2. But, Chattanooga registration just happens to be near the end of my taper, so I’ll likely be bored enough to do something crazy, like sign up.

August 7, 2013

The Fab 5, One Month from Ironman Wisconsin

It’s one day over a month away from Ironman Wisconsin so I thought I would report the current status for the Fab 5 along with +1 and +2.

Daniel just got back from Colorado where he waltzed into the epicenter of triathlon training and crushed Boulder 70.3. He negative split the 1/2 marathon and ended with a 1:41:32 on the run and an overall time of 5:09:23. He has put us all on notice with that effort and strung together a remarkable race portfolio this summer, with at least one more before IMWI. His mood has been steady and his love for the sport palpable. I think he is more than ready for Wisconsin and will likely add it to a long list of stellar performances.

Jim recently posted a picture of himself at work and is still flying high from a Psychedelic Furs concert. He’s also been taking FULL advantage of his role as Social Chairman for my above ground pool. In fact, some say he may be abusing his power! Jim’s been nursing a couple injuries, but seems to be climbing over the hump and gearing for the race of his career. He’s a cagey veteran in this sport and I’m fully expecting him to peak at the right time. I’m also super stoked to have him visit my homeland and celebrate a year of training with some brats, cheese, and a beer.

Mark is totally pumped this week, but I think it’s been because his daughter just started school. He’s also extremely busy at work with merger/acquisition stuff and I fully believe he has his hands in the recent purchase of the Washington Post. With all of that he just continues to hammer workouts. We did Muncie 70.3 together and he recently set a PR in the Music City Olympic. It seems like his injuries are behind him, or certainly under control, and like us all, he is just counting the days. We’ll be staying in the same hotel in Madison and I am banking on him for a wake up call race morning.

Kevin. Well, he’s a tough read. I sense that he has been recovering from the injuries that kept him down at Muncie. He been tenacious as ever at open water swims and hitting the Trace with equal vigor. He’s been relatively silent on his progress as of late, but the fact that he has only missed one open water swim all season is a pretty good hint that he will be attacking Lake Monona like a shark looking for salt.

Me? Well, I’m pretty much going with the flow, but have to admit the butterflies are starting to churn. It’s just all so weird. Your endurance keeps building, but it’s hard to gauge because it’s gradual. Obviously I can go more than I could in January, but sometimes I feel like I can’t go as far as I could last week. I’m actually looking forward to the upcoming weeks from hell, then curious to see what happens in the taper.

Allie is dealing with a shoulder issue, but seems poised to tackle her THIRD half of the year down in Venice. She celebrated an important birthday recently and seems to be handling it well. She’s also super jacked about a new bike fit. And Wasky? Well, if this picture is any indication, he is more than ready for Louisville.

August 1, 2013

Toeing The Line

These pictures got me thinking. For a sport that is so empowering and free, we sure do spend a lot of time following lines.

July 31, 2013

Idiots Guide to Triathlon #IMWI

One of the challenges of writing this blog is that it’s easy to sound like an idiot. I’m blathering on about Ironman before I’ve ever done one. But, before I know it, I’ll be floating in Lake Monona and all of these words, postulations, and unknowns will be mute.

The last nine months have taken my fitness to levels I never dreamed possible. Four hour bike rides followed by hour long runs. Four thousand meter swims in the morning and two hard hours on the trainer at night. And through it all, one thing has remained the most important factor in my training: I have trusted my gut and listened to my body.

I’ve never seen the point in chasing miles. I take a lot of shit for this, but I do not like to go to extreme lengths, especially when I’m deprived of sleep. I would rather skip or delay a workout than risk injury because my muscles haven’t recovered. In many ways, I’m still building my base for years to come.

I’ve learned a lot since we started training in January, and one thing is undeniable . . . no plan is fool proof. Everyone has their own methods but most of us struggle with the same questions.

Mileage . . . nutrition . . . burnout . . . wheels . . . strength training . . . race weight . . . recovery?

I’ve been fortunate to have a coach to bounce these (and hundreds more) questions off. He has laid the groundwork, adjusted to my fitness level, and been there for motivation at the right times. The rest has been up to me.

I’ve yet to bike more than 80 miles and my furthest run is 14. A ton of people have told me about the dreaded biking and running walls, but I’m trying not to get caught up in that because triathlon is so mental it’s mind blowing. I’m focused on remaining confident, training hard, and trusting my strategy. The struggle will be there, it’s just a matter of how I handle the pain.

On September 8th I will be chasing Ironman a mere 13 months after my first Sprint. It has been a daunting journey which has transformed into a lifestyle. I’ve become highly tuned into my body and it says some powerful things when I let it talk. I just hope our conversations haven’t gotten lost in translation.

July 26, 2013

The Difference Between Good and Great

This morning was tough.

I woke up “late” (at 5:15 am) and got to open water swim just as everyone completed their warm ups. I knew it was a mistake, but instead of taking time to get loose, I jumped right into the drills and started the day ahead of myself with short breath and a tingling of swim anxiety. After 3 drills, I felt tired, almost to the point of exhaustion, and decided to cut the morning swim short. I drove home, sat on the on the porch in absolutely perfect weather, and got introspective.

The thought that kept crossing my mind was, why do I keep going back?

I’ve played sports my entire life, but baseball was my first love. I was on a lot of good teams and that won a lot of games. But none of them where what what I would call great. I can hear the jokes already, but I didn’t truly learn what it takes to win until after college when I started playing softball.

I started in the beer league with the big fish/small pond attitude. We gathered our baseball buddies and thought we were the best thing since sliced bread as we carved our way through other small town teams made up of guys that used to be in band or the chess club.

This was all really good for our ego, but we didn’t always win. Our shiny brand of cockiness was often exploited by older teams. We had a ton of baseball talent, but didn’t know the first thing about winning.

One day the coach from our local traveling team, a grizzly 50-year-old bar owner with a big gap in his teeth, asked me and my brother if we’d want to play with them in St. Louis the following weekend. I didn’t know much about his team because they were always playing out of town and banned from our rinky dink league. After a few beers I told him, “What the hell.”

Next thing I know, I’m in a car headed to St. Louis with no idea what to expect. There were nearly 80 teams in the tournament and each had to qualify by winning a previous tournament or accumulating enough points in others. These guys we’re big, strong, and athletic . . . and I was a little intimidated.

I’d played against one of the teams in various tournaments with my bar league squad and they mopped our clocks. I told my new coach I thought they were pretty good, and I’ll never forget his answer, “Who, those guys? They’re a bunch of pussies. You’d be the best player on that team . . . by far.”

As it turned out we played that team in our second round and found ourselves down by SEVEN runs in coming up to bat in the bottom of the first inning. They put on a hitting clinic and as I jogged back to the bench, I thought our tournament was over. But coach had a different perspective.

I was used to a bunch of guys bitching about screwed up plays and screaming at each other to “Go hit the f*cking ball!”

The demeanor of my new team was 100% different.

Coach started making jokes about the other team being a bunch of sissies and how they were about to see how a real team swings the bat. My bar league team would have crumbled at that thought of coming back from seven runs down, but I sensed something very different about the culture that surrounded me.

I sat quietly on the bench and wondered how everyone could be so calm.

Our lead off hitter rolled a single up the middle. The second hitter followed with a line drive to right field. Our third hitter doubled and the clean up man hit a home run. It was now 7-4. The hit parade continued through the order until me and my brother stroked back to back singles in the last two places of the line up to knock in the 7th and 8th runs. We still had no outs.

The lead off man started it again with an infield single and by the time we went back to the field we’d put up 15 runs to lead 15-7. I cannot express the impact this had on my mindset.

We went on to score something like 30 runs in that game and held the other team to their original 7. I’d seen it in spurts, but my new team had something none of my previous teams really had. An unwavering confidence that was contagious.

We won the next four games before losing a close game, and were eventually eliminated, but took 5th place in the tournament out of 80 teams. My confidence shot through the roof and literally changed me as an athlete.

I played with that team for four more years and we won countless tournaments, including a clean sweep one year in the state of Indiana where we went 23-0. Our grizzly coach eventually bought a tour bus and we played in Louisville, Detroit, Minneapolis, Ohio, even Florida. More times than not we landed in the top 5. The only time we struggled was when there was palpable burnout.

So, as I sat there on my porch looking at the trees this morning I thought about my poor swim and what it really meant in the big scope of Ironman training. I showed up, made the effort, but couldn’t finish and felt guilty about walking away.

Aside from the softball story I just told, the most valuable lesson I’ve ever learned from baseball is how to come back from failure. The batter’s box can be a humbling place. Even in my best seasons I made outs 60% of the time and that really teaches you how to look forward.

Today’s swim was just a bad at bat in a long season. Now it’s my job to stay focused and make sure I’m ready when I step in the batter’s box with bases loaded and two outs in the ninth on September 8th.

July 25, 2013

Ironman Wisconsin Will Be My First Marathon #IMWI

As I inch closer to Ironman Wisconsin, I have one major question gnawing at my insides:

Will the fact that I probably won’t run more than 16 miles (ever) be a problem on the marathon?

I am trusting the hell out of this process and one reason is . . . I have no choice.

From Day 1 of Ironman Training (sometime around January 3rd) I have had to reel in my training. I simply wasn’t prepared for the intensity and made a few mistakes early on just to save face.

For example, we had early training rides (indoors) of 3 and 4 hours scheduled in February and I reluctantly suffered through them, even though my longest ride in many many years was an Olympic race (or thereabouts) of one hour and twenty minutes.

After several post-ride collapses that included long naps and limping around the house, I decided to implement a new strategy. I said to myself, “Self, if there are times when you feel you ‘could’ finish a long workout, but know it will put you down for a couple days, walk away on top.”

So, that’s what I started doing in the pool, on the bike, and on runs. If my workout was starting to feel like a detriment to my body, I would save myself. Four thousand meter swims became 2,500, four hour bikes turned into 2 1/2. Two hour runs, 1.5. But, the difference was, I always made the workouts count from an intensity perspective.

I had to remember that I literally just started running last year and other than some light biking and swimming over the last decade, the thought of doing Ironman Distance was laughable.

The other day I expressed concern to my coach about my running history, or more accurately lack of history. He simply said, “Stay the course.” And I trust that opinion.

Instead of panicking into long distances I have focused on a gradual, consistent build knowing that as I approach my first Ironman, I had to be at peace with patience. Trust the process and shine for one day.

Last night as I was running my planned 90 minutes (which turned out to be about 80), I added up the mileage. Sunday was an hour Monogetti run (sprint workout) of about 8 miles, Monday was around an 8 mile hill explosion, and last night was about 9 miles with some nice hills in the middle. Tomorrow I have another Monogetti waiting and Saturday is a 45 minute brick run after 4 hours on the bike. That’s will equate to around 30 miles of pretty intense running in 7 days.

I have already given in to the fact that (aside from passing a kidney stone) the marathon will likely be the biggest test of pain tolerance in my life. 26.2 miles of pounding after the swim and bike. I guess asking why I’d want to do it is a fair question and I think the answer lies somewhere in a quote I saw posted by Payge McMahon today:

July 24, 2013

Addiction, Perserverance, and Ultra Fitness

This isn’t actually about me for once, but I wanted to share this interview. It’s with Rich Roll and his story is both fairly common and amazing at once. Common because his life was (is) an addict and his life was burning out of control. Amazing because he has morphed into what many say is “the fittest man in the world.”