Triathlon – Page 4

November 15, 2013

The Most Important Part of My Training

Sometimes we fly through life and forget the simplest solutions to nagging problems.

After writing about winter motivation earlier this morning it occurred to me that I had no carrot on my stick. I’m just training to train.

My story is no different than most. Did the 5k, 10k, 1/2 marathon, sprint tri, Oly, 1/2 progression at the start, but none of that would have happened if I didn’t put that 5k on the calendar. I was quick to add another race after each one I completed until I jumped in the deep end with Ironman and that carried me for a year.

So, after lunch I sent a tentative 2014 race schedule to my coach, which he approved, and followed with, “Hurry up and sign up for NOLA. Get your ass in gear.” That’s all it took and 15 minutes later I was signed up for NOLA 70.3.

It’s human nature. If we have something “out there” we subconsciously push towards that goal. I’m sure there’s a big life lesson in here somewhere, but for now, I have a little more excitement about going home tonight and jumping on a hard bike seat.

November 15, 2013

Surviving Your Triathlon Off Season

It’s cold and dark. You’re fatigued. Your knees and feet hurt. There is no race in sight.

I don’t know about you, but I’m digging deep for motivation. The fear of losing what took me a year and a half to build helps a little, but the winter months are a totally different animal.

I’m hanging on by a thread with 3-4 marginal workouts a week, but if I want to make next year count, I’ll need to pick it up soon. Last night was a typical get-home-from-work-after-dark-funk, but I forced myself to dig up the reflective vest and do some work.

Almost everyone agrees that triathlon is won on the run. And after that short, but effective 4 mile run last night, I have convinced myself that off-season training is also won with the run. One simple reason: you can do it outside.

Let’s face it, indoor triathlon training blows. The pool, the trainer, the treadmill . . . all suck. Being outside and moving with no boundaries and changing scenery is where it’s at.

Flowing with nature is why I signed up for this. Six am swims in the lake, hell yes. Endless laps in a pool? Forget it. Four hours on a trainer or Natches Trace? Breathing fresh air in a beautiful and hilly park or jamming a treadmill for an hour?

Last year the indoor stuff came easier because my first Ironman scared the crap out of me. Motivation by fear. But my goals have changed. I want to be faster and there are no shortcuts. Life rewards you for putting in the work.

Next year’s races are won now. The indoor work is monotonous, but triathlon is about building mental toughness.

Putting in long hours on a bike that doesn’t move or in a pool that won’t let you out is very hard, but it’s the primer that makes your work stick. And while that kind of caged workout doesn’t make my mouth water, it’s good to remember I can break up the main course with a sweet desert called “outside running” over the cold months ahead.

November 6, 2013

Chasing A Swimmer's Dream – Guest Blog

By Robbie Bruce – Lead Performance Specialist at RX Endurance

I could list all the wonderful things my mom has done for me but I believe signing me up for “swim lessons” before I could walk was one of her greatest gifts. I have loved the water ever since.

I feel more comfortable in the water than with my feet on land, actually. Mom also told me that no matter what, always do what makes you happy and do not be afraid to fail. Ever since I could swim I’ve dreamt of wearing a USA parka and standing on the podium listening to our anthem being played, and crying like a baby with tears of joy. I think representing your country is the greatest honor in sports.

I swam 6 days a week for my entire life until I was about 14. I broke a lot of records and swimming was my life for a very long time. I actually remember the day I quit. I was in the middle of a kick set (probably why I hate kicking so much now ;)) and I was kicking as hard as I could, yet, I could not feel a thing. No pain. No nothing. I actually did 4×50’s crying. Trying to kick so hard with no feeling. No mental pain and my legs did not hurt. I felt nothing because I had nothing. Swimming was no longer fun for me. I did not want to be at practice nor did I want to race. As good as I was and as “promising” as people told me I was. I got out of the pool that day, walked up to my favorite coach and told him I was done then called home to break the news to my parents.

I never swam year-round again but I did choose to swim summer league for my club. It is much more laid back and fun. Every Tuesday in the summer I would line up against old teammates still dedicating their lives to swimming. I would hop on the blocks with baggy swim trunks (dude, I’m about 16 right now and Speedos are frightening) while everyone else wore skimpy Speedos. I still had guys that were “rivals” and have always been competitive so I always wanted to win. We would race and some of my proudest moments were dusting them with my board shorts on. I even remember swimming next to them on purpose until then end before I floored it for the win. Swimming was fun for me then. It was laid back and I wanted to be good because it was in my heart and not because it was on the schedule on the fridge.

Fast forward pretty much 1/2 my life and the past few weeks I have had the itch to go after my dream again. I did not train very well swim wise but cranked off a 55:00 and obviously came in under prepared for Swim the Suck but managed 20th against some Olympians and All-Americans. Kind of dawned on me after that race when the Olympic gold medalist and race winner walked up to me and said, “Have you been ninja training? Because if you haven’t and ever decide to train we will all have to work harder.” I took it as a nice “aw shucks” compliment at first but as the weeks have progressed it’s changed. Is 33 to old? It might be. I think its worth finding out.

Swimming for me now is different. It is not the black line at the bottom of the pool, it is the open water and the freedom it gives me. Hell, swimming with our training team 3 days a week at the lake has taught me more about swimming than the 10 years I swam year-round. I love it. I know that some people think I am some awesome swimmer but I am not. I have the ability yes. But I have not performed, trained, or ever 100% focused on it before in my life. Couple that with wanting to and having a passion for it I believe I finally have the recipe I have always needed. Too late? Maybe. It’s time we see.

I love the sport of triathlon and everything about it. I will compete and participate in triathlons as long as I can. I also love open water swimming and believe I owe it to myself to finally find out. Find out if I have what it takes to make the US Open Water National Team. Wear the Red. The White. And the Blue. Am I behind the 8-ball when it comes to training and likely age? Hell yes I am. I’m okay with that. I think it favors me actually. It is fresh and new. I have the heart now and I truly believe I have the talent. I admittedly have always slacked on my swim training because it came so easy. Shame on me. I know. Wont happen again, I promise.

For 2014, I have decided to focus 100% on trying to qualify for the US Open Water National Team. I will likely still do a few shorter triathlons but no Ironman races for me which was tough to swallow. You know I want to go back and dominate the IML course (and I will). In a very appropriate twist of fate. My qualification race is the day before IML next year so their is no way to try and do both. So, I am going with where my heart is. I can assure and promise you I will still be totally immersed in the sport of triathlon, the training it takes, training improvements, coaching, etc. So please do not worry. In fact, I think this year might make me the best coach I have ever been. I liken it to working in a restaurant for a long time and just not enjoying eating the food. My training will be fresh and my coaching will be better.

My venture wont likely lead to me lining up for the open water event in 2016 at the Olympics in Rio for the chance to win a gold. Will it lead to me being named to the US National Team? I feel like I have a shot. Weather I end this journey with a gold or some red/white/blue attire, if I merely find out I just did not have what it takes to get there. Either way I will go to bed knowing I went after a dream and at least know it wasn’t in the cards, OR I will go to bed every night knowing I made that dream a reality just by taking a chance. So if you need me tomorrow and I don’t answer your call, text, or email immediately, I will respond within at least 1.5hrs. I will be busy in the pool working on a dream I had almost a 1/4 of a century ago with the same joy and vigor I had when I dreamt it. Dreams never die. It is your desire and belief to go for those dreams that fade first. Don’t let your dreams die one second before you do. Go all in.

October 24, 2013

Bob Babbitt Inspired #IMKona

From that day I watched my first Ironman race in Louisville, I was hooked. But it seemed so strange — 3,000 people putting themselves through what seemed like torture. There must be something more. Why? What was going on here?

The deeper I got into my own training for Ironman, I began to realize the stranglehold it can have on you. It literally changes your life and dozens of friends have told me what I was doing motivated them to start running or get a bike or get back in the pool. The lifestyle is contagious.

And Ya know, sometimes you just get the feeling you should be doing more with your life.

This morning I woke up way before the alarm and got out of bed naturally. The first thing I laid my eyes on was Twitter where I saw a link to a story about Bob Babbitt who has been involved with Ironman for 35 years. They had me at hello.

Babbitt grew up in Chicago as an outdoor lover, got tired of the winters and moved to San Diego. He started a gym class in one of the local schools, and became good friends with Tom Warren, who won the second Ironman in 1979. Babbitt decided to compete the next year and essentially dedicated the rest of his life to bringing triathlon to the average guy. Along the way he also co-founded the Challenged Athletes Foundation, which he says is, “his proudest accomplishment.”

He also was the co-founder of Competitor Magazine.

When I read stories like this, it touches a place far deeper than I can explain. It’s about purpose and passion, not simply going from point A to point B. Babbitt spent many of those early years around Ironman covering local races for free, but he got far more than money can ever deliver.

It’s more than times and racing up and down roads, it’s a vibrant approach to living. It reminds me of the feeling I had when I started Creative Pig Minds. I had a dream and nothing would get in my way. I “worked” 15 hours a day and was completely engaged. It was hard work, but incredibly Zen, “in the moment” kind of stuff.

That is exactly how I would describe my first Ironman experience. Completely in the moment for 11 hours and 58 minutes. I was flooded with purpose. I knew exactly what I was doing and literally lost myself in time. To me, that is the epitome of living.

When we trudge through life with jumbled thoughts we are bound to be unhappy. Our subconscious doesn’t like to be thinking one thing and wishing it were doing another. It’s a recipe for conflict and a perpetual flight mode.

Babbitt went with his heart and created a lifestyle he couldn’t resist. He embraced a direction that was engaged and filled with purpose. It sounds simple, but going where you really want to be takes a lot of courage because most people, including yourself, don’t want you to leave.

October 22, 2013

Goosepond Half Triathlon – Race Report

I’ve had a difficult time pulling myself together to write a Goosepond Race Report. Frankly, I wasn’t ready for this race, and it showed. It was a painful day and I’d rather forget most of it, but I’ve learned that these are exactly the kind of races you need to remember.

Goosepond was my first race after Ironman Wisconsin and I have concluded it’s similar to a band playing Red Rocks, then sitting down for an open mic the next night. It can be fun, but it’s a completely different motivational challenge. That said, the best bands (and athletes) put out the same energy whether they’re playing in front of one person or a packed house.

Wasky, Corey, and me looking marginally hungover before Goosepond. My only other 1/2 was Muncie and the night before, I could barely sleep. Before Goosepond, I was out like a light. I just did a damn Ironman, 70.3 would be a breeze!

As we checked into transition it really made me think about how much goes into putting on a triathlon. The logistics of an Ironman are staggering and here were a bunch of people who likely didn’t know much about triathlon doing their best to make Goosepond work. It was more of a small town feel, while Ironman was New York City.

I was in auto pilot and kept forgetting stuff back at the truck. My socks, my timing chip, my helmet. It was a weird, zombie-like feeling and eventually, coach Robbie jumped my ass about getting my shit together. It was 10 minutes before the race and I wasn’t in my wetsuit.

The Goosepond swim is actually in Lake Guntersville, which is gorgeous and full of seaweed. My swim wave was old men and young women (which could have had something to do with my elevated heart rate) and I flopped around the water for a few minutes before they shot the gun (or quite possibly just said, “go”). The first 15 or so meters were great, but I was quickly transported back to my bygone panic-mode-days. It really wasn’t as much panic as I couldn’t find my breath and literally thought I had forgot how to swim a mere six weeks after swimming 2.4 miles. What the f8ck was going on?

As I rounded the first buoy (maybe 500 meters in) I slowed to a stop and tried to catch my breath. Why didn’t I warm up? I will never learn.

I watched as the rest of my wave slowly pulled away and there was nothing I could do. It was a jail break and I was the lone prisoner wedged in the escape tunnel. Stay calm, you’ll catch them.

Wasky coming out of the water top 20 and oblivious to the trouble ahead. * All good photos courtesy of We Run Huntsville

A couple minutes later, I eased back into my stroke but I was someone else. The wetsuit felt tight, my sighting was blurred, and my energy low. I took at least three breaks on that first loop and was a little stunned by the fatigue in my arms.

Corey, daydreaming about Tahoe in the morning glow of Lake GuntersvilleBy the time I got to the end of my first loop I officially hated two loop courses. Even though it was just water, and all looked the same, I didn’t want to see lap two. Later, Robbie would tell me I took a really wide turn around that buoy and I’m pretty sure it’s because I was thinking about swimming to that pier, getting out of the water, and cheering for Wasky and Corey from the comfort of a portable hammock.

But I put my head down and cranked out lap two, which turned out to be much easier once I loosened up. I really need to get serious about my pre-race regiment.

Swim Time: 42 Minutes (Muncie was 37, Wisconsin was 1:20).

T1 – I was actually a little disoriented going into transition, but pulled it together, grabbed my bike and ran across the mount line. That’s when I noticed I was still holding onto my gloves. I stopped and patiently put them on while Robbie watched shaking his head. “Good thing you got those gloves on,” he said as I wheeled past him with a smile.

Redemption on the Bicycle

I didn’t know my time, but when there’s a group of you racing and all your spectator friends are waiting for you at the Bike Exit , it’s a pretty good indication your swim sucked. But, as soon as I clipped in, my remorse was gone and I had one focus . . . crushing the bike.

The initial plan for Goosepond was a relay. Robbie would swim, I would bike, and Season would run. But, a twist of fate landed Robbie in a swim race that would change his life and I told him I might as well do the whole damn Goosepond by myself. So, bad swim aside, one of my sub-plots was to ride like I would have ridden in a relay. I was also curious to see just how hard I could push the bike. It was on.

Here’s me drafting and looking like a jack-ass with my chrono watchI had logged a mere four hours on the bike since I raced IMWI and had no idea how riding a hard 56 miles would feel. I came out and tried to stay around 19 mph for the first 5 miles and it was pretty easy. I tried to lose myself in the scenery, but kept taking peeks at my bike computer, where the miles seemed to be turning over more like a calendar. Seven miles, eight, nine . . . ugh. This was going to be hard.

Since I was so late out of the swim I was picking off people like flies. About 20 miles in I had yet to be passed and that became my new goal. Don’t get passed on this bike.

I was busting down a country road and noticed a guy on the side changing his tire. “Shit, that’s Wasky!” I slowed a bit and asked if he was okay, but immediately wished I would have slowed more. I “thought” I heard him say, “Yes,” but I wasn’t positive. I hoped he didn’t need a tool or a tube. I briefly entertained turning around, but eased my fears by reminding myself that Wasky is the most prepared man I know.

I settled into aero and dreamed about the finish. I felt bad for Wasky because I was pretty sure he had a good swim and now I was going to beat him off the bike. It had been five minutes since I’d flown past him at 21 mph; I figured I was at least two miles in front of him now. My thoughts drifted back to not getting passed on the bike and I thought that was a real possibility. Not more than 30 seconds later, I heard someone breathing hard to my left. Damn! I was getting passed!

Who did this person think they were passing me?!? I was NOT getting passed on this ride. But, his tire broke the line and I started falling back out of the draft zone. I wasn’t even going to look up, but they said something like, “Keep pushing.” I glanced over to say thanks, and it was Wasky! Before I could even ask how the fuck he caught me, he said, “Two flats, brotha.”

Damn, that was his second flat and somehow he got from corpse position to downward dog in a mili-second. He shouted, “Stick with me and we can pace each other on the run.”

“Stick with me???” What the hell was going on? I was crushing this bike and Wasky is telling me to stick with HIM! He was in beast-mode-squared and all I could do was shake my head.

It took about 2 minutes for him to lose me, then around mile 30 (which also doubled as the ONLY bike aid station) I caught him. His mood was a combination calmly livid, mixed with a case of the beat downs, and topped with a dose of, “I’m gonna kill this course.”

I passed him about a mile later and he slowly fell into the distance. I honestly thought he might be toast. Then at mile 45 or so, he flew by me again. “Come on man, let’s bring it in. Ten more.” I just shook my head.

He rode a good hundred yards ahead of me for a while, then I passed him, which he immediately countered with pass of his own before pulling away for good at mile 54. Two miles to go and I was feeling my legs. It was a flat course, but I didn’t stop peddling for more than 10 seconds the whole ride.

I cruised into transition and Robbie kinda gave me one of those, “Damn, dude, you crushed that bike looks,” before actually saying, “Nice bike.” All I had to do now was run a solid half marathon and I would surely be on the age-group podium. Easier said than done.

Bike Split: 2:40:26 (and tack on a very questionable 4:00 drafting penalty). One of two penalties handed out to my training club. I have decided not to go into it, but let’s just say this is a very suspicious chain of events.

T2 – Yep . . . it happened.

“Trust Me, This Run is Pancake Flat”

I’m not a great runner, but thought I could easily put down a 1:50. I felt surprisingly good as I left transition and patiently waited for my running legs to show up. Spectator support was a non-issue, so I picked out a woman with good pace and ran behind her for the first 1/2 mile. Then, I made a very unusual decision for me, I ran up next to her with the intention to actually talk for a few minutes. Talking on a jog is one thing, but I am just not a fan of it in a race. I kinda like to focus on pain.

I was just about to say something when she says, “Hi Mike.” I was like, huh? It was Ann, who also races for RxE, the Knoxville crew. And that’s when they snapped this picture of me about to blow out my ankle. I have to admit, I was a little stunned. We actually started in the same swim wave and she was saying how slow of a swimmer she is, etc. Clearly she’s not that bad of a swimmer because I knew I hammered the bike and here she was still in front of me. Ann is a really strong cyclist.

Then there was this guy rubbing it in my face As engaging as Ann can be, I had a race to win, so I plowed off into the rolling hills, followed by a charming campground, and then a tricky little cut-thru trail onto the first of many roads that would break my heart.

That’s when I started hearing Wasky’s voice again, but this time it was in my head.

“Trust me, this course is pancake flat. You will crush it.” And I really did trust him, but for some reason I was standing at the bottom of a 1/2 mile climb.

I told myself this must be “the hill.” Every course has “its hill,” and this was Goosepond’s. Ah, no problem, I love hills and this isn’t really that steep, but it was kinda long.

It was getting hot and I was dying for water. I didn’t hydrate well the week before and my mouth was burning for liquids. As I crested “the hill” I saw a right turn ahead that dropped me on the road to nowhere.

Another slight climb to an aid station before a very long descent that nearly made me cry when I saw people running back at me. I made a mental note of the climb-to-come and then, for the second time in one race, broke my no-talking rule with a woman who looked like she knew the course.

“I thought this was supposed to be a flat run,” I said with that awkward, yet undeniable bond runners have as they waltz through hell and think they own the place.

“Oh, you must not know the Race Director,” she replied with that “I’m an insider” attitude that outsiders like me, Wasky, Corey, and Robbie detest.

“Ummm… well… I… uhh…. sorta…. No, I don’t,” I said knowing full well that I had exchanged dicey emails with him earlier that week.

“Yeah, he’s notorious for putting together tough run courses,” she roared with a half-out-of-breath masochism.

“Awesome! Can’t wait to see what’s ahead,” said no one ever.

We hung together until the start of a sub-division, which also meant the beginning of another hill. Now, mind you, none of these hills were “tough” but when you think a course is going to be flat, it’s sort of like facing a pitcher who doesn’t throw that hard, but has a great change-up. His fastball always seems like it’s harder than it really is.

Adding to my unruly disdain was the fact that they had zero mile markers on the course. And yes, it’s my fault for not going to the athlete’s meeting, I suppose, but give me a bone. Even the aid station volunteers seemed unsure about their location, and since I wasn’t wearing a Garmin, I literally had no clue where I was on the course. At one point, I thought it was mile 9 and it turned out to be mile 7. When I hit the “real mile 9” I was toast. That’s when my running became simply something that would get me off that god-forsaken course sooner.

This was also about the only time I saw Corey during the race and neither of us seemed particularly talkative.

Soon thereafter, I re-engaged with the treacherous cut-thru and headed for home. Just as I cleared the scattered brush, I met with aid station volunteers who excitedly exclaimed, “Only one more mile!!!” I looked at my chrono watch and realized I had 10 minutes to run that mile and finish under 2 hours. Sweet!

So I pranced off at a decent clip knowing, if nothing else, I would secure a sub-2-hour half marathon after all that other crap we do in triathlons. And I ran . . . and ran . . . and ran . . . and watched the clock tick past 2 hours . . . then 2:02, 2:03, and finally end up on 2:05. I just ran a 15 minute mile? Awesome.

Turns out it was about 1.5 miles, but who’s counting?

——————

Epilogue: The setting for Goosepond was beautiful, but I haven’t perfected checking out scenery during a race. I much prefer people yelling and challenging me to keep pushing on. I forgot to mention the gut cramp that seized me for most of the run and the sharp knee pain I felt around mile 10, but if I hadn’t been so un-prepared I would have totally enjoyed the swim. The bike was pretty sweet and most of the roads were nice, though I wish they would have had another aid station. The run was tough at the back half of a triathlon, but I think it was fair. My mind and body weren’t ready for the challenge but we all had a good time . . . I just wish we would have brought our tents and camped out for a while doing Twitter.

—————–

This is me, Wasky, and Corey celebrating after Goosepond.

October 16, 2013

My Ironman Kona Race Report

This past Saturday, I sat in a hotel room in Huntsville, Alabama and watched the live stream of Kona on my computer, and let me tell you, it felt like I was there!

Well, not really. But it did get me pumped for the Goosepond 1/2 triathlon I was doing Sunday.

Didn’t really do that either, but it was kinda cool being in Rocket City. Umm . . .

Yeah, so, it was me, Robbie, Corey and Wasky in two hotel rooms running back and forth with the latest gossip on the pros at Kona all while throwing in a bit of Gordon Ramsay and Hines Ward snark for good measure.*

“Holy crap, Starykowicz is on pace to break the bike course record.”

“He’s the dude that beat us in Muncie.”

“He’ll never hold it.”

“Hines would crush you, Wasky”

“Whatever.”

“Where’s Kienle?”

“He’s around.”

I kept throwing out Ben Hoffman splits, but nobody seemed to care. They’ll learn.

“Is that Chris McDonald commentating?”

“Yeah… he tweeted with me the other day about Spyoptic.”

Freshmen gushing at the varsity.
——————-
Robbie was basking in the sore-arm-glow of “Swimming the Suck” earlier that day. Ten miles of open water on 5 Days notice.

Me, Corey, and Wasky were digging for energy and motivation to race Goosepond the next day.

“What’s the run course like?”

“I’m telling you, it’s PANCAKE FLAT!”

“You sure?”

“Book it.”

“I haven’t done shit since Wisconsin.”

“Join the club, brotha.”

I was NOT ready for a half triathlon but suspected Wasky and Corey, who did Louisville, were in better form.
———————-
We lounged with our laptops and watched as Frederik Van Lierde blew through the tape in 8:12:28 for his first Ironman World Championship. That’s close to 4 hours faster than I did Wisconsin and damn near as fast as I’d do Goosepond the next day.

Well, sort of. I did 5:35 ish.

Van Lierde’s bike was 4:25 for 112 miles. My bike split at Goosepond was 2:36 (actually 2:40 because I got a 4:00 penalty, which I’m still steaming about . . . not really, but you can read about it here). That 2:36 was about all I had and it felt like I was re-writing the record books. IF I could have done that for another 56 miles (which is more than highly doubtful) I would have dismounted after 5:12, a pretty f-ing amazing time, but dude rocked a 4:25 in the crosswinds before running at 2:51 marathon? Who are these freaks?

Then, there’s Mirinda Carfrae, who got off the bike around 10 minutes back and casually threw down a 2:50 marathon? I’m sitting there on that comfortable ass bed in Huntsville, Alabama watching her float on air at mile 25 thinking . . . that’s the babe that tweeted at me about Brittany Spears tickets a few weeks ago. Small damn world.

Then we gathered the backpacks and went into Goosepond for our ass-kicking.

* Just getting into the race is an accomplishment. Each year, more than 80,000 athletes vie for a shot to be on the starting line, but only 1,900 men and women make it. (Source, and crappy article by the LA Times about Ramsay’s Ironman that anyone in the world with a computer could have written)

October 11, 2013

50 Ironman Wisconsin Race Reports in One Place #IMWI

Hopefully you will enjoy this compilation of Ironman Wisconsin 2013 Race Reports, race videos, and podcasts. I combed Facebook, Google, and other groups to find (and read) as many as I could. I have pulled an excerpt from each so you may have an idea of what you’re about to read. I plan to add more as I find them, so bookmark this page and look for the latest. Also, if you have one and I missed it, please let me know. As always, please follow me @miketarrolly on Twitter for all my updates. Thanks!

Official Ironman Wisconsin 2013 Race Day Video

Pro recap video from Ironman Wisconsin 2013

Finish line streaming video of Ironman Wisconsin 2013

Ironman Wisconsin 2013 Statistical Analysis with photos

“I could also cite my tire pressure, crash, bumpy roads, steep hills, just a litany of reasons that could have contributed to my less-than-stellar bike time. I just know I got owned!” – Christina from The Jerk Store Called . . . (Best blog name ever)

“I settled it as much as I could w/the choppy conditions and found myself behind some feet that were just swimming all over the place!! We did not swim straight AT ALL…BUT it’s pretty crazy how swimming alone in a straight line is just way harder and no faster than drafting easy on some feet that just happen to be swimming a little whacky.” – Women’s winner, Jackie Arendt from Jackie Arendt Racing.

“Within 30 seconds people were kicking my head and beating on my legs . . . and I was loving every second of it. Rubber bodies were everywhere and keeping good form was nearly impossible. My arms were tangled and my feet felt like they were tied by rubber cords. Good thing Robbie made us practice this shit.” Mike (me) of Crushing Iron

“As long as they didn’t intentionally do anything to me I let them go. I didn’t pull or push anyone without good reason. However, if you did things on purpose, and Mr. D. Head next to me found out, I do retaliate.” Kevin for Crushing Iron

“The race started off well with my kind of swim—a hard one. Well it would have been better without wetsuits, but at the very least we got tough and choppy conditions and had to work for that swim finish!” – Hillary Biscay from HillaryBiscay.com

“On Observatory Drive where the worst of the run course hills are, a guy next to me started to tell me what a disappointment the whole day was. I had no room in my mind for negativity, so as soon as we reached the top of the first hill I wished him luck and took off running. I wanted to be so far away from the negativity that I actually ran the second hill on Observatory Drive, where everyone else was walking.” – From Finding My Happy Place

“On the first loop I had made it about 30 miles or so into the ride and was reaching the fun rollers of Witte Road when things got exciting. A motorcycle cop whizzed by and a little bit after that came the first pro, Romain Guillaume, a Frenchman who we dubbed the “Little Guy” at the expo. He was booking. It wasn’t long before other pro riders were whipping by.” – Chris at I Am Tri

“I headed out on the run, and had seriously wobbly legs. The first two miles, I felt like I had no control over them. I had never felt that before. I thought, I DID race the bike!!!!” – From Katie at Triing for Pro

“I lined up along the buoy line, plan to take she shortest path & prayed for clear water. When the BOOM sounded, we swam. It was instant madness. If you have never swam an Ironman mass swim start & if you have not witnessed one in person, there really is no way to describe it & do it justice.” From Robyn at Sunrider Tri

“Well we were churning and a burning till mile 17……..Then a bear jumped on my back and the thing people call “The Squatch” jumped on my front side. I had developed a blister on each big toe and those MF’ers would scream out loud with every foot strike.” From the legendary Carl Noftsger of Endurance Nation

“Midway through, I unfortunately managed to increase the number of “one things” in my quiver. I lost my wedding ring to Lake Monona. When I realized this, I knew I needed to add “better make this race count” to my “one thing” thoughts, because I wasn’t sure how my wife would react.” – From Ian at Endurance Nation

“I kept pushing until the end, skipping the last 2 aid stations. I saw JT at the EN tent on State St, gave him my fuel belt (which was empty anyway), pushed on the finish. Coming around Capital Square with about ¼ mile left, I spotted a guy in a race kit that I recognized from the bike leg. I felt I could pass him, so I gave it one last push.” From Bruce at Endurance Nation

“I use a 2-mile lap as my “box” while on the bike. When I hear the beep for a lap, I start a new interval on the Joule so that I am not working too hard to hit a particular number. When a new lap starts, now it is time to concentrate on that lap and that lap only.” – From Joe at Endurance Nation

“There were people…everywhere. I really wish I had my GoPro mounted on the bike for this as it’s hard to explain. It felt like I was climbing into a crowd of people and the path literally unfolded in front of me as people peeled away to clear the space.” – Jeremy at Endurance Nation

“Oh Madison, WI. the best “Irontown” in the U.S. for sure. If you are considering Ironman, in my opinion, Wisconsin is THE one to do. Forget the amazing course, it is the people there that make the race truly iconic…The volunteers and the spectators are simply UNREAL. Tour de France-style support along the bike course, screaming (often drunk?) fans all along the run- truly one-of-a-kind.” – From professional triathlete, Beth Walsh

“Around 4:30 the volunteers with the most experience are keenly aware of time running short; a helpful one said to me and the couple gentlemen I was riding near (it’s a no-drafting rule, but it’s hard to avoid some proximity), “You can still make it, but you need to stay focused. Fifteen miles in one hour – you can do that!” Yes, I could do that – but it was WINDY! We were riding straight into the wind, it seemed like; you’d have a brief respite, then there’d be a turn and it would be brutal headwind again.” From Jenny Davidson

“I’ll tell you I felt fine the whole race until the second loop of the run. As I turned around, I said to myself ” you don’t want to do this but you have to.” – From Matt Amman

“The Ironman Wisconsin bike course is no joke. It’s known for being a hilly beast. I had come up to Madison to ride a portion of the course one time in July this past summer and was very glad that I had the opportunity to preview the course. The preview helped me gain some confidence and made me feel like I would definitely be able to finish the course on race day.” – From Rachel at Triathlon Girl in Training

“The entire population of Madison, volunteers and spectators. What a freaking incredible place to race. The volunteers were perfect. The spectators were out of hand. You guys made the experience. While were here, a huge shout out to fellow geophysicist and maybe-turning-pro triathlete Summer, who absolutely nailed restaurant and spectating recommendations.” – From A Siegfried Runs

“There were times when I felt so tired, I felt like I could just fall asleep standing up while walking. In my desperation to try and figure out what was going on with my body, I started eating all kinds of stuff being offered on the run aid stations. I ate bananas, energy gels, defizzed coke, chicken broth, and lots of potato chips.” – From Loco Runner

“Saturday, Sept 10 – Woke up to a farmer’s market right on the capital square! Walked around a little, had some breakfast and realized that the weekend was heating up. I had high hopes for a low-80s kind of Sunday. Oh well. I forced myself to drink lots of water on Saturday and kept my bottle close by as I did the last few Ironman tasks before Sunday – needed to drop off my bike and my transition bags at Monona Terrace.” – From Kelly at There Had Better Be Oxygen

“I knew that I had pushed the bike a little harder than I had planned to, but I still felt pretty good starting out on the run. I paced my first 3 miles at a 7:15 pace and began passing a good number of people, including a few female pros.” – From Eric at Ironman Diary

“Before even starting the race I reminded myself of a question that was suggested by a renown Ironman coach on a podcast I listen to. He suggested that before making any decision during the race, you should ask yourself, “How will this decision effect the last 10k of the run?” – From Iron Dad Triathlete

“I didn’t take five strokes when the panic set in. F%CK ME!!!! I had perfect swims all season and here I was acting like I had never been there before. Each time I tried to force myself to swim the breathing was too short and labored to let me swim.” – From Eric in Cleveland

“Miles 23-25.5 are long, dark and sparse of spectators. So close, yet so far away. Then you hit State Street and that is what this race is all about. Music bumping, beer flowing the crowd shouting you up the hill towards the capitol. I teared up a little turning that corner. It had been a long week and I had my moments doubting whether I would make it here or not. I looked around, picked up my turnover a bit and soaked it all in.” From Angela in Chicago

“It’s become a September tradition. Take the second weekend of the month, head down to Madison and cheer on athletes as they tackle the 140.6 miles of the Ironman Wisconsin course.” – From Badger Girl, on Spectating IMWI
“The first goal in our family is always to start. It’s a good goal, and it’s one that shouldn’t be taken lightly. Injuries and accidents happen; I know this too well. On race morning, after a fitful night of sleep, I rolled over and looked at my watch. It said 6:35.” – From George in Atlanta

“I decided that I would try grapes instead and drink water. That worked like magic. I keep the energizer jelly beans and ate them slowly to try and see if that would be able to help me maintain some sort of an energy level.” Tri Fuel

“We all have many roles in life, and I have been trying to juggle being a supportive partner, loving mother, daughter, sister, nurse, friend, and ironman. I want to stress that I am just like everyone else, and if you have a dream and put the work in, that many dreams are possible.” – Team Luna Chix

Rich and Scott discuss his race, his first Ironman, including a 15 minute negative split on the run!! – Endurance Nation Podcast

I gashed the bottom of my foot open on a rock, almost got puked on 4 times by athletes, was picking seaweed out of my hair for hours after, and nearly got seasick. AND. IT. WAS. AWESOME!!!!!! – Observations from a Volunteer

“This race will be the closest I will ever come to knowing what it’s like riding in the Tour de France. The fans lined the hills cheering and ringing their cow bells, which made for a great experience” – From Kristen Lodge

“I really can’t believe that this was the 12th year that I have raced Ironman Wisconsin. I thought about it in the water before the cannon sounded; some of the first races I did here felt like they were yesterday. Each year proves to be a time when I learn something else that I can apply to future races, with this year being no exception.” From pro racer and Madison resident, Blake Becker

“I went to Wisconsin with the sole goal of erasing those doubts in my mind. Of proving to nobody but myself that I could run a respectable marathon. I didn’t care about my place or my overall time, those things were all secondary. I just wanted to run well. I NEEDED to run well.” From the Trail of Miles

“The plan was to do one shot blok every 2 miles and drink Ironman Perform at every aid station. The first six miles went well. I ran through the Badger Stadium and screamed “WE ARE PENN STATE” which I am pretty sure was heard by no one.” From Alexa Harding

“This means I had to stop at the next penalty tent, write down my name and some details, sign a form and then go again.. About 45seconds worth but this is an age while you are watching the group ride away through the hills.” – From Simon Cochrane

“Things kept going from bad to worse, and I wondered if I might have to walk the rest of the race. I knew if I could at least keep jogging, I would still get a PR, but I saw my goal of a 3:40 run quickly slip out of reach.” From Luna Chick Runs

“I had a dream that I accidentally brought my mountain bike (which I don’t actually use in real life) instead of my tri-bike. And my dad and I had to build it minutes before the race started. And then a huge lightning storm came in and delayed the race. Other than that, I slept well.” – From Go Run Some

“Alarms were going off at 3:45am to the song I get knocked down but I get up again! It was time to race and the day I was thinking about for a year was finally here.” From Angela’s Antics

YouTube Report from Amy Friese

“The bike course was brutal. Hilly – up and down and quick turns – and never ending. And did I mention we had headwinds the ENTIRE 112 miles?!?! Ugh. I stopped at mile 56 at special needs to grab more sports drink and use the porta potty. The hills were brutal but the steepest hills were full of spectators and people cheering and on drums – it was like being in the Tour de France – I felt like a rock star and was having a blast!” – From Susan at I Am Tri

A story on the amazing Brent and Kyle Pease

“I am not simply surviving…. I am thriving. I have found a way to give back, to help, and really help. For this, I am eternally grateful. I am a cancer survivor, but I am much more than that. I am an athlete. I am an activist, an advocate.” – From Team Strutz – Wilkerson

“The main problem I had was that I couldn’t see the buoy’s very well. Because I started so far to the right of them, it took me a while to get close to them – and once I did, I actually ran into one of them at one point.” From http://spabbo.blogspot.com/

“I believe in triathlon. I believe it has transformative power, and I know that behind goals linked to the time of day are more important motives: it’s the expression of our best selves that make this day sacred.” From Iron Love

“We said some not so nice things to each other (we determined that on ironman day, all was said with love) and there were times that she kept going and I had to play catch-up as I was stopping to talk to a lot of people and giving hugs when I should have been running with her.” – From Beyond the Boobs: My Journey to Ironman Wisconsin

“Today I got out there and gave it a go at my 7th Ironman Wisconsin. Living only 1 block from the finish it is tough to miss this event, and it is the only opportunity all year to sleep in my own bed for a pro race. Leading up to the race I kept a steadfast line that “I was tired” and that was the truth.” From Thomas Gerlach, pro triathlete.

October 9, 2013

Why I Don't Watch the NFL

I used to love the NFL. I was an improbable (and scorned) Vikings’ fan growing up in Wisconsin.

My best friend had just moved in from Minnesota and we spent hours upon hours running around in the backyard impersonating Fran Tarkington and the Purple People Eaters. We were purple, man. And maybe that’s why I love Prince so much, too.

I had all the gear. The jersey, helmet, blanket, slippers, you name it, and I could not wait until Sunday. It was easier for me to like the Vikings because they were good. Back then the Packers stunk.

But, as good as they were, the Vikings lost sometimes. It would crush me. I would be so bummed I’d sit in my room the rest of the day. It was bad. And, you may know, the Vikings have lost FIVE Super Bowls. I wouldn’t come out for days after those losses.

Eventually, I realized this was not a healthy practice and started questioning why I would care so much about an NFL team. It didn’t make sense really. I didn’t know any of the players, they didn’t call Minnesota (or Wisconsin for that matter) home, and they all made tons of money to play a game I played all weekend for free.

As I got older, I watched how other grown men acted watching their team. They were just so vested in the games, and a loss seemed to literally take a piece of their souls. I’ve even heard the mood in our nation’s capitol, the home to leaders of the free world, is dramatically affected by a Redskin’s win or loss. People obviously care about their teams!

I still like college sports, but have to admit even that is waning. Triathlon has had a direct impact on what I find important, and I’ve decided wasting my entire weekend celebrating corpse pose and watching football isn’t one of those things. I still care about the Badgers, but the fact that they already have two losses has far less bearing on my mood.

Essentially it’s the difference between a passive and active life.

I haven’t always led by example, but truly believe the purpose in life is to learn and grow. Without a goal or passion driving that process it’s easy to get caught in the trap of fading away; and for me that means living with guilt.

Today, I was flipping through the radio on my way home and landed on a sports talk station. Some guy called in and was asking a question about the Titans, but he prefaced it by saying how depressed he gets when they lose. “I stumble around the house for three or four days all bummed out.” The hosts, and even he, started laughing, but I thought it was sad. The Titans should have nothing to do with him, but the outcome of their games dictates how he feels.

So instead of watching football this Sunday, I will be swimming, biking, and running for 70.3 miles, and it will likely hurt. But I will be alive. I will be surrounded by people who would rather push their limits and “feel” life instead of sitting on a couch getting numb.

That said, I will likely spend a good chunk of Saturday in front of the computer watching the Ironman Kona World Championships, but I’m pretty sure that will have a different impact on my attitude.

September 17, 2013

Ironman Recovery #IMWI

Many say the most important part of training is recovery, and we in Nashville take that seriously. So, post-Ironman Wisconsin, we’re gathering 16 triathletes, our aero helmets, and setting out to crush the Nashville Pedal Tavern course record. Our good friend Wasky has already downloaded elevation gain and ridden the course, so his detailed text message is pending. IronTrac assured me they’d have this race loaded, including a beer tracker, a day in advance, so make sure to follow our journey. (These people are not us, but I think they may hold the current course record).

July 25, 2013

RX Endurance Athlete of the Week (My Training Partner)

It’s not always easy to come up with a new blog, but some days they fall right in your lap. I woke up to a text this morning about Racer K from our coach:

“For the sake of the Fab 5 +1, +2, I’m going to heavily edit Racer K’s Athlete of the Week write up because he talks ALOT of shit.”

I was confused because I had already awarded Racer K Crushing Iron Athlete of the Week right around the time he was East Nasty of the Week. So, he’s won yet another award?? Yes, he has. The coveted RX Endurance (our training group) Athlete of the Week has now been added to Kevin’s growing list of accolades.

Following is Kevin’s story and how his perspective on Ironman has shifted this year. He talks about what he’s learned and how training with a group of people dedicated to giving their best effort has impacted his life. I have witnessed Kevin ride a roller coaster of training emotions and can honestly say the most impressive and inspiring thing about Kevin is that, no matter what circumstances he faces, he is always ready to work, and in constant pursuit of improving, both in training and in life.

RxE Athlete of the Week- Kevin Gammon (Racer K)

This week’s athlete of the week is one of our more intriguing athletes, Kevin “Racer K” Gammon. In many areas Kevin has come as far as any of our athletes since the beginning of the year. His swim especially has transformed into a strength rather than a weakness due to his hard work and determination. We have shared a few CTJ rides together on the Trace where less than 10 words are spoken. He often keeps to himself but when he speaks you should listen. I asked Kevin to write about whatever he wanted and this is what he had to say…..

“It drives me crazy when people ask me to write about myself. When coach “asked” me to write this up my mind went in a million different directions. I didn’t want this to be your typical biography write-up because I already have a few of those out there. Luckily, after a short run it became glaringly obvious what I actually needed to type about. My journey with Robbie and the athletes of Rx Endurance has been centered on motivation. The past 8 months have been more mental in nature than physical. I believe that any progress I’ve made this year has been in my mind first and body second. Motivation is a tricky thing. Everyone’s motivation is different; there is not good measure of motivation. Worse, it can be fleeting and hard to repair when damaged. You can’t just “give” motivation; it has to be a spark from within. And yet it is the most important thing an athlete can have. Let me tell you where my motivation comes from and how RxE helped change it.

I started my trip seeking “things.” There are a lot of athletes out there, and I was one of them, that race “for the medal.” I have a wall full of them. I also wanted the magnet on the car. It is neat to be able to sit around and tell people you finished an Ironman. That can get you more free beer than you would think. A lot of people are like this and I’m not going to be the one to say anything is wrong with it. At least not on Facebook. Personally speaking I’ve found that if finishing was enough then I seldom improved. I just… finished. When I started working with Robbie I was still in this phase. That was, if I remember correctly, around last December.

Then you add in the people. The people at Rx Endurance are amazing. I can’t say enough about them and you will love hearing their stories. Nothing gives me more satisfaction than fighting with Mike at 6:00 a.m. trying to beat him to the buoy and back. My competitive history with Jim is well documented. I know it all sounds cutthroat. The reality is everyone in the group is very supportive of each other but we have a very healthy competitive attitude. Bragging rights can be great motivation. It’s no longer about the things, it’s about how you compare to others. This works great for a while and you can make leaps and bounds this way with the right competition. This is where my motivation came from and it was very limiting. What if Mike has a bad day? Do I still give 100% and pass him by or just enough where I can still give him a good elbow and take it easy? I think if you judge yourself based on the abilities of others then you lose the ability to define yourself. You’re really missing out.

The next thing in the mix comes from coaching. It doesn’t come all at once. It’s a more subtle influence and I think this has been the best benefit from my time under the RxE umbrella. Over the long months my training has become less about the things outside and more about me. What can I accomplish and what can I achieve? What else can I learn about myself along the way? My friends have become support and not competition. I really don’t care about the medals. I just love the sport. The actually race day is just a date on the calendar, I have no intention of stopping when its through. I want to be the best athlete that I can. More importantly, I want to be the best person that I can and live true to myself. I want to grow physically and mentally. Training for this Ironman and with this group of people literally changed my outlook on life. Motivation doesn’t increase in a linear fashion. I’ve had several bumps in my road (where coach promptly jumps in, I swear he has a freaking radar) but in the end I have never been this motivated to succeed.

Forget the medals. Forget the competition. Look inside yourself and run your own race. Always give 100% and don’t be afraid to fail to reach your goals. Everything else will work itself out. Just have a little faith. That’s where I’m at now. A big change from December. Totally worth it.

That’s my RxE story. I look forward to showing my growth this September at Ironman Wisconsin.”