rev3 knoxville

May 23, 2014

Rev3 Knoxville 2014 – Race Report

I’d be lying if I said I didn’t go into Rev3 Knoxville with redemption on my mind. A couple months earlier I drove to New Orleans with a sub 5:30 goal and limped in at 6:20. I went to Knoxville gunning for an age group podium in the Olympic.

Jim, Corey, Marc, and Wasky led the dinner plans on Friday night and was I loving the Market Street vibe. The Holiday Inn was a few short blocks away and re-affirmed my need, desire, and craving to lodge close to the race, preferably near a downtown.

Saturday was spent waiting for the overloaded tech crew to look at my front brakes which started rubbing in New Orleans and, in true ACA fashion, I blew it off until one day before this race.

The transition deadline was closing in and they still hadn’t looked at my bike. Luckily I was talking with the local race director who told me the other guy in our midst was an awesome mechanic (and racing for All3Sports.com). I grabbed my bike and he promptly dialed me in.

A Sleeping Miracle

By 9pm I was in bed and by 9:30 made an amazing discovery. I can actually sleep before a race!

I mean seriously, I am Notorious BAS* when it comes to pre-race rest. I slept maybe 3 hours before Ironman Wisconsin.

My list of poor sleeping performances is legendary. In fact, sometimes I am genuinely afraid of dying because I feel like I will be tossing and turning in my tomb. And trust me, I realize this probably means I’m a self-absorbed a-hole who can’t let go (and has a lot of nerve believing he will actually be buried in a tomb) but I’m working on it . . .

So . . . I slept well then woke up to the awful guitar strumming sound of my iPhone alarm at 5am on Sunday. There is no “snooze” button for me on race day. I suck it up and go. Especially considering I had consciously made that choice the night before.

What happened when my feet hit the floor may have impacted my race more than anything. I calmly eased into some light yoga. I still had 3 hours before the swim, so I let my body wake at a comfortable pace.

I didn’t feel awesome, but trusted the process while moving instinctively to poses my body craved. The intensity was minimal, but soon I was sharp enough to both remember my name, and what the hell I was doing awake at 5am in Knoxville, Tennessee.

Pre-Race Transition

I had plenty of time and all my gear was packed, so around 6:15, I slung my wetsuit over a shoulder, grabbed my tire pump, and made the dark and lonely trek toward transition.

Once I’d pierced the inner sanctum, I found my bike and started wondering why in the hell I brought my tire pump. I mean, I seriously asked myself, “What kind of guy brings his own pump to transition?”

Just as I uttered those words to myself the guy next to me said, “Hey, can I borrow your pump?”

I said, “It’s funny you asked that because I was just asking myself what kind of guy brings his own pump?”

“I suppose a prepared one,” he replied in a most serious manner.

You’re typically racked in the same place as your age group, so I watched carefully as what appeared to be a formidable challenger filled his tires. David, who was racing for Grim Reaper (another reason I tread lightly) had an eery calm and a confident look in his eyes that more or less said, “This race is mine.”

We exchanged small talk and I sensed he was sizing me up as well. After about 10 minutes he turned around, looked me in the eye and asked, “Okay, so what are you going to swim today?”

Ahh, the “Crushing Iron” logo was getting into his head.

“Oh, I don’t know, my swim is a wild card.”

“Roughly.”

“Well, last year I came in around 26 minutes.”

His poker face was impenetrable as we stared each other down in silence.

Finally I asked, “What about you?”

Without missing a beat he flashed a friendly smile and said, “Well, I’d like to do better than that.”

The Swim

Actually, I hoped to do better than that, too, but it was not to be. I’d like to go into a long and exciting story about the swim, like this one, but it was virtually uneventful. At least (unlike last year) I was in the water when the horn sounded.

The best news of the day was that I swam steady and didn’t stop. I recently read that alone can mean the difference of a couple minutes, so I was pretty well satisfied when I climbed onto the dock and started running up the hill to the boat house.

I am typically a little wobbly out of the water, but as I ran up the ramp, I was ready for the balance beam. Solid feet, solid lungs, solid legs. I picked off a few people on the short hill but as I tried to pass one more before we turned out the side door of the boat house, things got a little dicey.

My body drifted to the left, slowly losing all control, then I slammed into the door jam with my shoulder. I remember thinking, “Great, that’s my bad shoulder,” then hoping by some miracle the collision would somehow fix my other problem.

I started to feel sorry for myself, but remembered there are millions of starving kids and war and poverty and depression and disease and unhealthy relationships and people who can’t walk across a K-Mart. I repented, but solved zero of those problems as I ran up the blacktop path to mount my bicycle.

I had WAY too much crap on my transition towel. My back pack, tire pump, two pairs of socks, arm warmers, leg warmers, two pairs of gloves, a hat, a visor, and a stack of senior pictures. I looked down in disgust, then thought back to the pro transition I’d just witnessed. They grabbed their bikes and ran out of transition naked as j-birds.

I was rolling up arm warmers and jacking around with gloves, it was a mess. I decided to pass on socks and left my arm rollers dangle like the wide wrist bands Ivan Lendl used to rock.

THE WEATHER WAS PERFECT, and I was layering for an ice storm. I was embarrassed, and frankly, a little pissed at myself.

The Bike

I love the Knoxville bike course. You sorta tool out along the river, then jump on a freeway, then slide into some cool neighborhood roads, then climb a couple tough hills and come back.

My strategy was to attack. The problem was, the legs weren’t ready to party. I did my best to shred the climbs and recover on downhills, but just didn’t have the same juice I was used to last year. It may have something to do with the fact that I’ve only been doing intermittent one-hour trainer rides for a couple months.

I road at just over 20 mph and was reasonably happy with that, but I’ve got a lot of work to do.

The last 5 miles I noticed an age group battle building. He passed me, then I’d pass him. Back and forth. A challenge of wills. A mental game that stretched our limits and would lead to combat in the trenches once our feet returned to soil.

The Run

We entered transition mere seconds apart and I beat him to the run. But not more than 15 seconds later he saddled up beside me to say, “Wow, that was a hell of a bike. You kept passing me at the end and all I could think was, I hope he’s not a good runner.”

I was still gimpy, but did my best to smile before saying, “We’ll see!”

For a brief second I got a little boost of cocky adrenaline. I’m thinking, THIS is the challenge I’ve been waiting for. Yes, I will show this guy that I AM a good runner.

I was stiff and shuffling, but mentally ready for the challenge. I had flashbacks of the Ironwar in Kona between Dave Scott and Mark Allen. And today it would be me and this guy! A guy I didn’t know, but soon everyone will know and we will be forever linked to the Knoxville RevWar!

That’s when, and I swear on a stack of religious paper, he smiled at me and said, “Good luck,” before literally leaving me in the dust. He was gone. I mean like two blocks away before I spun my race belt to the front.

So much for the RevWar, but around mile one I felt like I was on my game and slowly picked up the pace. When I hit the 3 mile turnaround, I knew I was golden. I also knew my Pearl Izumi Streaks (which they no longer produce but can still be found) make a difference in the way I run. The lazy shuffle was gone and I was actually running, well.

This was also the first time I wore a Garmin for a triathlon. Corey was nice enough to set me up on Multi-sport the night before. It worked great on the bike, but somehow I screwed it up coming out of transition. The only thing I could see on my watch was a black line. No pace, no mileage, no nothing. So I just ran.

The coolest thing about this run was that I made a decision to force myself to do pick-ups. Every half mile or so I would sprint for about 30 seconds, re-training my legs to move faster. And every time I slowed to my normal pace it felt easier. Sprint, back it down. The reason I did this is because I haven’t been doing speed work and my legs are in a comfort zone. It genuinely makes me optimistic.

I turned the last corner to head down the chute and saw the finish line. I crossed proudly with my arms in the air . . . and that’s when I saw him sitting on the chair in front of me. David, my bike-rack rival, beat me.

He offered the chair next to him and I congratulated him on a fine race. We reveled in the comraderie of sportsmanship for a minute, then I looked at his calf and realized he wasn’t even in my age group! All of that pain, drama, and stress for nothing. Then, a different guy came up to me (this one in my age group) and told me I passed him on the very last stretch. I had no idea.

We all hobbled to the monitor and I punched in my bib number, 817. There were a lot of numbers, but the only one that mattered was “3.” I got third place and would be standing on the podium after all.

Follow me on Twitter @MikeTarrolly

* Bad Ass Sleeper

Course Summary

Course	Time	Pace	Distance
Swim	00:29:12.000	02:01 /100m	0.90 mi
Bike	01:13:50.000	20.32 mph	25.00 mi
Run	00:48:50.000	07:53 /mi	6.20 mi
Total Time	02:36:43.000

10311879_10203966264659766_7047028351200107787_n — Me, Wasky, Jim, and Corey

May 22, 2014

Your Choices Define the Consequences

Someone’s trying to tell me something

On the way to work I listened to an interview on 104.5 The Zone with former University of Tennessee and Dallas Cowboy football player, Dwayne Goodrich. His story is one of tragedy and triumph. Charged with vehicular manslaughter for killing two people, he went to prison and it gave him a lot of time to think.

The interviewers asked all the tough questions, and Goodrich didn’t run away. He has owned up to what he did, but puts all of his energy into being a better person and helping others do the same. In the end, he hopes to get this simple message across to young people: Your choices define your consequences.

As I walked across the parking lot at work I thought, “Hey, I’m a ‘young people,’ I should really think about this.”

How does a young person like myself make the right choice? And is it really possible to control consequences?

I sat at my desk, and the first thing I saw in my email was this little gem called “Your Choice” from Seth Godin.

He talks about how our habits, giving, reactions, words, work, ideas . . . everything is choice. And they all bring consequences.

For me this all points to being aware and consciously in the moment. Too often I find myself “somewhere else” and doing things on impulse. Mowing down a bag of chips or haphazardly running out the door dehydrated and tense.

Preparing to be Prepared

Triathlon training is a delicate balance and a great way to learn the value of making good choices. Relentless workout schedules and a constant need for fuel can be a good recipe to get off track.

One of the biggest mistakes I consistently make is not being prepared for my workout. Often it’s because of poor diet or hydration, but mostly it’s because I don’t make time to be ready.

I’ve played sports my entire life and every single time I stepped onto the field, I warmed up before the game. Even if it’s “just a workout,” it’s still a taxing event and the body doesn’t go from zero to sixty without consequences.

On the Saturday before my Sunday race at Rev3 Knoxville, I went to the river for my practice swim around 1:00. Without thinking about it, I put on my wetsuit, jumped in the water, and started swimming. Seven hundred yards later I held onto the edge of the pier and floated for 10 minutes. I felt like I got hit by a Mack Truck. I didn’t “think” I swam that hard, but I was breathing heavily and a little off balance. This is what happens to me. It’s always happened to me. I seemingly never learn.

But I did learn.

Preparation Pays Off

Before the race on Sunday, I made the choice to get up earlier than necessary and spent a good 45 minutes easing my body into being awake. I spent time on the foam roller, did yoga, and meditated. I was preparing to be prepared.

When I got to the Swim Start I focused on loosening my arms and getting the blood into my upper body. I kept moving and added light stretches. I jumped into the river as soon as I could and did some easy swimming to acclimate to the water.

I’ve screwed several races by bastardizing the swim, but Sunday was a perfect example of making a choice to be ready, and it paid off. I eased into the swim, bike, and run that day, and the payoff was feeling stronger at the end of each event.

I made one choice and it delivered a string of positive consequences. I’d imagine that can also work in reverse.

May 21, 2014

Rev3 Knoxville – Weekend Overview

The Man Who Saved My Race

Saturday night after dinner, I was exhausted and shuffled back to the Knoxville Holiday Inn a little after 8:00. As I circled through the revolving door, I remembered something very important . . . I had nothing to eat before the race in the morning.

The gates were closed on the hotel store and I cringed at the thought of navigating Rocky Top to find pre-race food. But, when I looked a little closer, I noticed one of the gates was halfway open and there was activity inside.

I did a little limbo under the metal and noticed Eddie from Nashville was buying a few things from a very helpful clerk, who I will call Chuck. It was obviously after hours and the older gentleman behind the counter was a freak of courtesy, even while balancing his till.

Eddie left with his goods, and I apologized for the inconvenience before asking if I might buy a few things for the morning. Chuck was all in.

“Sure! Whatever you need, my friend.”

I scoured the shelves for fuel. Bagels, bars, and bananas. This was a blessing and I loaded up. But I couldn’t find peanut butter.

“Oh, hang on buddy, I’ll go get some from the kitchen!”

Seriously? What a guy!

He came back with four packets and sheepishly asked if it was enough. I assured him it was.

These are the little things in life that I crave and never seem to find enough. It was more than “service” it was kind human behavior. It was someone who put others ahead of himself.

He was lighthearted and asked genuine questions. He even told me a story about Wisconsin and promised someone would be there at 5:30 in the morning if I forgot anything.

I tipped him kindly, then noticed three or four other guys meandering about the store. I ducked under the gate again and heard Chuck in full glory, ready to feed the next wave of hungry triathletes.

The Rev3 Experience

I’m telling you, Rev3 puts on a great race. You just get the feeling they really care about the athletes and takes pride in the little things. To a man, and woman, everyone I know that raced said they would definitely come back.

First of all, I love the course they designed. The swim in the Tennessee River rocks. It just feels big and anytime there is multiple bridges, count me in.

The bike course was, as many people describe it, tough, but fair. It’s really the perfect course for me. Lots of turns, challenging climbs, and fast descents. The scenery was gorgeous and everything was well marked.

The run course was a little blah, but still enjoyable. It was mostly on a bike path, but there was a nice creek/river along the way and it’s always cool to run through parks. The last .3 miles was uphill back into the finish line and probably the most memorable portion.

Rev3 is professional, yet accessible. The finish line felt big, but had a warm mid-sized town feel to it. I love their attention to detail, like the big monitors at the end showing your finish and a little tent where you can pull up your splits on the screen. It’s not the Final Four, but it’s definitely Elite Eight, and on some level that is more intriguing.

I plan to write more later on why I believe Rev3 is poised to challenge Ironman for attention in the shorter distance races.

Location, Location, Location

I absolutely drool when races are in a city and are PART of the city.

I love Ironman Louisville and Wisconsin because they showcase the location. Both run through their respective downtown’s and you always know where you are.

I was underwhelmed by Ironman Muncie and New Orleans. Both could have easily been in Bowling Green, Kentucky and I wouldn’t have known the difference. To me it’s the difference between playing a baseball game at a stadium versus your practice field. There is cache’ in the venue.

Rev3 Knoxville set up right at World Fair Park. I decided to stay at the Holiday Inn which is normally attached to the finish line, but moved about a block this year because of a book fair (which I regretfully didn’t attend).

Transition was a few blocks from the finish and nearly close enough to make my post-race bike fetch enjoyable. In New Orleans, I had to drive 20 minutes to get my bike after the race and got lost in the hood along the way, which actually came in handy in the form of ridiculously delicious hot wings, but other than that, driving to get your bike blows.

At Rev3 Knox, everything was a short walk, including Market Square, which set the pre-race table beautifully. Just a cool little town that genuinely seemed happy to have a bunch of goofy triathletes walking around in spandex.

Because of their excellent planning, I am “this” close to signing up for Rev3 Wisconsin Dells. I’ve been there many times and it is a crazy little place with a lot going on. Water parks, bearded women, fire eating jugglers, and I’m confident I’ll see them all.

The swim is where they hold the Tommy Bartlett water-ski show and the run course appears to be nicely entwined with the tourism absurdity. And what could be better than a ride on the amphibious Wisconsin Dells Ducks to wind down after a glorious day of pain?

May 20, 2014

Rev3 Knoxville – Pro Triathlete Transitions

LAND SHARKS

I was nibbling on a Fig Newton and contemplating arm warmers when a blaze of fire erupted from the Tennessee River and raced into the Rev3 transition. The first group of men, ejected from a hurricane . . . all hunting for blood. Ladies and gentlemen, meet professional triathletes.Cameron Dye was the only familiar face, but like a school of sharks, they were close enough to be considered one. Literally on each others heels as they tore across the asphalt in bare feet.

Cam turned down the wrong bike aisle and had to backtrack, which probably cost a grand total of 7 seconds . . . but for these guys, that sliver of time can be the difference. They all landed in the row right next to me and it was an incomprehensible flurry of action.I leaned on the fence and watched as these cats spent about 10 seconds stripping their wetsuit and ripping their bike from the rack. And just like that . . . they were gone.

Their transition times were around a minute and a half, but most of that was running in and out. The time they actually spent at their bike was minimal. Maybe 20 seconds.

Talk about getting your blood pumping. Bike shoes are on the pedals and the thought of socks, gloves (or arm warmers) didn’t cross their minds. Bare is the game and animal is the lifestyle.

I can’t even comprehend the pressure of racing at that level. A group of 5 or 6 guys ran their bikes out together, all ready to pounce on weakness. Hell, I get cold sweats and fight dry heaves if I even SEE a guy with my age group number on his calf. These guys live in that world . . . and it’s no place for bait.

QUICK THOUGHT ON TRANSITIONS

When I first got into triathlon I was digging for information on everything and one time went to a “Transition Clinic” that included how to lay out all your crap on a towel. But after watching a Pro Transition, I think I could give my own clinic and it would go something like this:

1. Run as fast as you can from the water to your bike.
2. Rip off the rest of your wetsuit
3. Put on your helmet.
4. Grab your bike
5. Get your ass on the course

CAMERON DYE

I raced in Knoxville last year when Cam Dye absolutely destroyed the course in miserable conditions. His swim was 14:55 and he averaged 28 mph on the bike en route to a convincing 1:47:53 victory in the Olympic .

Over the course of the year, my buddies and I joked about me going back to Rev3 to get revenge on Dye. All I had to do was figure out how to cut 53 minutes off my time. As it turned out, he raced the mid-range distance this year, so the Rumble in Knoxville never happened, but we did have a marginally intense discussion about Twitter after the race.@miketarrolly @camdyetri

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May 6, 2014

Rev3 Knoxville Looms – Pre Race "Report"

I guess it’s time to start talking about Rev3 Knoxville. My buddy Jim and I will be doing the Olympic with Katherine (along with a few Knox girls) while Corey, Marc, and Wasky are gearing up for the Half. Should be a good ole’ fashion showdown on both fronts.

They’ve made a couple changes to the race this year, including moving the location for transition. It used to be about a .66 mile run (according to Corey’s Garmin) from the water to your bike, but it looks like that distance will now be cut in half. The other change escapes me . . . but maybe it’s the weather?

Last year it was 56 degrees and rained the entire race. Portions of the run were literally through knee-deep-water. Frankly, I kinda thought it was awesome, but unfortunately it doesn’t look like we’ll be that lucky again. Here’s a finish line shot from that glorious day, which made my list of favorite photos from last year. My buddy Corey was there for the fun last year and I think he still has scars. The water temp was 53 degrees and it made for a dicey start to his long-distance triathlon career. But racing in terrible weather can only make you better. He took the hard-nock-Knoxville and turned it into a sub-12 Ironman at Louisville. You can read about Corey’s heroics here.

I had a good race in Knoxville last time and don’t really think I can beat that time. I’m sure I’d be more confident if I was actually training, but doing New Orleans took a little bit of steam out of the little bit of steam I had going. I think knowing that I’m doing the Olympic is a bit of a relief. Which . . . is pretty damn funny when you think of it.

Less than two years ago an Olympic triathlon seemed, not only unreasonable, but unthinkable. Now I’m approaching it like a stroll in the park. No matter how you slice it, that’s a really good feeling.

I’m pretty comfortable with the swim (though I missed this morning’s workout). I’m still a mystery on the bike (I tend to view the bike as a strength but New Orleans put a big seed of doubt in my brain). The run is . . . well, likely dependent on my bike (but I do feel pretty confident I’ll actually be able to stand up after my ride this time).

I will be in Knoxville on Friday night anxiously awaiting the opening of the Expo and the mandatory athlete meeting. Considering the conditions last year (and the fact that they rejected my application to be a team ambassador) I thought Rev3 put on an awesome race and I’m looking forward to seeing how they do when it’s 95 degrees and sunny.

April 18, 2014

What's Next After Ironman New Orleans 70.3?

This is a tough question. On one hand I was absolutely miserable on that New Orleans course, on the other, I feel like I need redemption.

I’ve taken a little grief for trashing my own performance and can definitely understand that perspective. To complete a Half Ironman is a major accomplishment for most, but when you finish nearly an hour slower than you hoped, it can leave a slight scar.

I’m already signed up for Rev3 Knoxville and will compete in the Olympic. The wounds from New Orleans have already healed and I’m looking forward to race with a few people I know.

Familiar faces cannot be underestimated. I made a few new friends in New Orleans, but saying hi to alligators, wild stallions, and snakes for 70.3 miles can wear on you.

The elephant in the room continues to be Louisville. I have gone around and around about that race, but still don’t know if I want to do it. Frankly the last two half’s I’ve done were miserable. From Goosepond to Crescent City, I feel like I got worse. But, truthfully, I haven’t even been sore (aside from sunburn) since IMNOLA and that has me inching closer to so saying yes to Louisville. I just have to figure out how to let go of my incredible disdain for riding a bike.

I will start training for Rev3 this weekend and focus specifically on the Olympic distance with shorter, high intensity workouts. In fact, I’m leaning that way in general and still believe focusing on mileage in training is a mistake.

I really think New Orleans was a bit of an aberration. I hadn’t ridden outside, and that day was windy, sunny, and hot. Not to mention my brake was stuck. That all took a huge toll on my overall vitality and shrunk my head for the run. I’m going to leave that race behind and go back to Knoxville with focus. I had a good race there last year, so it will be tough to beat my time, but that’s my intention.

Until then, I plan to lay on the couch, eat lots of good fat, and read books on psychology. I know you’re jealous, Corey.

March 13, 2014

Triathlon Nightmares

In my final stages of sleep this morning I was swallowed by the triathlon equivalent of oversleeping a test in college. I woke up in cold sweat and a state of panic before focusing on breath to bring my heart rate down.

For some reason, I was dreaming about Rev 3 Knoxville, which is still two months away. I didn’t oversleep the race, but after finishing the swim staggered into transition to the realization that I forgot my bike in the hotel room.

Madness surrounded me and I was the guy standing in everyone’s way with his hands in the air. No one seemed to care about my dilemma or even think about offering me their bike.

But I was determined to save my race and dug through my bag, grabbed the hotel key and sprinted out of the parking garage.

Next thing I know, I’m running barefoot through downtown Knoxville in my wetsuit with guys in pick-up trucks calling me out-of-water-white-trash. I kept my eyes on the road and screamed, “Tell me something I don’t know!” They all laughed with no teeth.

As I got to the revolving front door, a woman in a wheel chair squeezed in ahead of me. I waited patiently as the spinning glass spilled me into hotel lobby. I bypassed the elevator and ran up stairs to the fourth floor but my room key didn’t work. I flagged down a maid who approached with caution then hesitantly let me in.

The race clock was ticking and it took thirty five minutes to get to my bike. Sweat poured from my body as I sat on the bed and wondered if I would wind up with two T1 splits. I held my tire pump, looked at my bike, then stared out the window with the realization that my race was over. All those training hours for naught.

I casually stripped my wetsuit, reclined onto the bed then drifted back to sleep with my first DNF.

February 7, 2014

So My Buddy Said . . . #IMLOU

Something happened to me yesterday and my buddy, C*, noticed. We’re texting back and forth and I’m all engaged about the races we have scheduled and he simply said, “You are on a roll today, Mike**. Welcome back.”

First of all, I was glad he noticed. Secondly, he is sort of right.

Things I did yesterday that seem to be pointing in the right direction:

1. Renewed my USAT card2. Signed up for REV3 Knoxville
3. Booked a hotel for REV3
4. Booked a hotel for Chattanooga (this was actually Wednesday and for spectating IMCHATT, but still)
5. Changed my Facebook header to a scene from IM Louisville.
6. Thought seriously about signing up for the Chattanooga Waterfront Tri.
7. Thought about signing up for the ADPI sprint in Murfreesboro.

I should have pulled the trigger on #IMLOU. I don’t know what I’m waiting for, but something is telling me to wait. Maybe it’s because I’ve dropped 500 bucks in two days and don’t even have a kit to wear this season.

Since yesterday, there is now a total of 6 people I know, J, C,***, W, M, K, and me, are all signed up for Rev 3 Knoxville. Last year it was a beast and I’m hoping the weather is even rougher this time because it really made me tough. But obviously not tough enough to sign up for Louisville . . . yet.

* A lot of weirdos have been sniffing around my blog lately, so I’m protecting the names of my friends.

** I’m not hiding, however.

*** Not the real JC, but technically they are related.