Okay, so I ran across the link to my own blog, this lovely page, the other day and I was saddened to see that I'd allowed a year to go by without posting. After the immense cluster that was 2010, I had fully intended to make 2011 better, and I did.
If you've followed Dana's blog at all, you've seen that we got engaged and are now in the throes of planning a wedding. Talk about something I never thought I would have to do. Maybe I'll write more about the proposal process, maybe I won't. I haven't decided whether that's self indulgent or not. In any event, let it be known that the moment she said "yes" made my year.
So what does 2012 hold? Who the hell knows?
I'm planning to be more active on this blog, so maybe if you keep reading you'll get to keep tabs on me. I think there will be two major topics of conversation: fitness and wedding planning. I assume that my take on the adventure will be, well, uniquely my own. It's a strange enterprise, full of insanity and silliness, and we've just begun.
As for the fitness, I think this is the more important topic in the near term. As Dana mentioned on her post, we've each got about 50 pounds to drop. In my case that will get me back to the weight I was holding when I was at the top of my tri career. Though that career may well be over, for a variety of reasons, I still need to get back to the weight. That only makes sense. Lighter is healthier, right?
So, now that we've chosen a wedding date, I've got a little over a year to lose that 50 pounds. I also have a big split to take in the middle. I turn 35 this year. In just about exactly 6 months.
So here's my goal: Lose 30 of the 50 pounds by June 9, 2012.
5 pounds per month. You think I can do it? If I do, then maybe I'll be in even better shape by the time the wedding rolls around. Wouldn't that be crazy?
More on the methods and the progress as they develop. Hope you stay tuned and, if you see me out in the real world, call me out if I look like I'm slacking off.
Don't worry, babe, you'll be stuck with me for a good long time.
Friday, January 6, 2012
Friday, December 31, 2010
2010: You Forgot Your Phony Dog Poo
Okay, yes, it's been what, 10 months since I last posted on here? It's been a busy year. A busy year and not really one I'll care to remember, though definitely one that will never fade completely from my memory.
Anyway, I was looking at Dana's blog earlier and I realized how long it had been since I wrote anything for the masses, both of you. I decided that it was probably time to either delete this thing or start using it again.
So why have I been away? Frankly, I've been at a loss for words this year.
This has been a year marred by the removal of two people from my life. The first was my grandmother, who we called Me-maw. Me-maw departed in January and, although it was undoubtedly her time to go, it opened 2010 onto a rough road.
The second has kept me silent and hunkered down for the last few months. Right before Halloween, we lost my dad. It was sudden, totally unexpected, and all the other small descriptions you can apply. That day I saw and felt things I hope no one I know ever has to. I’m going to leave out the details, because they aren’t necessary, and because they are mine.
When I find the words, I will probably write something about him, because he was far more than just my father. He was, in point of fact, one of my best friends, my compass for most things professional and personal. In the time since he passed, I keep finding myself in situations where he’s the only person I can conceive of having an answer for me, or even some kind of guidance, which is perhaps the greatest irony of it all. How do you make sense of the world when the person who usually explained it is gone?
I’ve spent the last few months not so much handling as coping, looking for the center so I can keep standing on my two feet.
There are a few components to that center. The first being my family and friends. Even the ones I didn’t know or expect.
But in all honesty, the one who’s kept me standing is the woman in my life. I am lucky beyond words to have her. She has shown me time and again that she can keep me up and running when for all intents and purposes I should have collapsed in a bloody, broken heap on the side of the road. Thanks to her I’ve started sleeping nights. I've learned to drink wine. There's paint on my walls. We had our first anniversary and our fist shared Christmas.
So no, 2010 can’t come to an end fast enough. Although I know that 2011 will have its share of challenges, I am looking forward to meeting and surmounting them. I am looking forward to all the things, small and large, that will dim the memory of 2010. Powder days, good beer, good workouts and good friends. I hope to see more of you out there in the world than I have this past year. It’s time to make new memories and see what the world can offer after you’ve shaken off the punches and got up off the canvas.
Anyway, I was looking at Dana's blog earlier and I realized how long it had been since I wrote anything for the masses, both of you. I decided that it was probably time to either delete this thing or start using it again.
So why have I been away? Frankly, I've been at a loss for words this year.
This has been a year marred by the removal of two people from my life. The first was my grandmother, who we called Me-maw. Me-maw departed in January and, although it was undoubtedly her time to go, it opened 2010 onto a rough road.
The second has kept me silent and hunkered down for the last few months. Right before Halloween, we lost my dad. It was sudden, totally unexpected, and all the other small descriptions you can apply. That day I saw and felt things I hope no one I know ever has to. I’m going to leave out the details, because they aren’t necessary, and because they are mine.
When I find the words, I will probably write something about him, because he was far more than just my father. He was, in point of fact, one of my best friends, my compass for most things professional and personal. In the time since he passed, I keep finding myself in situations where he’s the only person I can conceive of having an answer for me, or even some kind of guidance, which is perhaps the greatest irony of it all. How do you make sense of the world when the person who usually explained it is gone?
I’ve spent the last few months not so much handling as coping, looking for the center so I can keep standing on my two feet.
There are a few components to that center. The first being my family and friends. Even the ones I didn’t know or expect.
But in all honesty, the one who’s kept me standing is the woman in my life. I am lucky beyond words to have her. She has shown me time and again that she can keep me up and running when for all intents and purposes I should have collapsed in a bloody, broken heap on the side of the road. Thanks to her I’ve started sleeping nights. I've learned to drink wine. There's paint on my walls. We had our first anniversary and our fist shared Christmas.
So no, 2010 can’t come to an end fast enough. Although I know that 2011 will have its share of challenges, I am looking forward to meeting and surmounting them. I am looking forward to all the things, small and large, that will dim the memory of 2010. Powder days, good beer, good workouts and good friends. I hope to see more of you out there in the world than I have this past year. It’s time to make new memories and see what the world can offer after you’ve shaken off the punches and got up off the canvas.
Thursday, February 18, 2010
Vegas, from the Boot Heel
If you've ever been to a party at my house, or been told about one, you've probably heard someone say "Das boot!"
No, we are not talking about an old WWII submarine movie starring Jurgen Prochnow. Though I hear that's awesome in its own right.
No, what you're hearing about is a much more "useful" iteration of Das Boot. It's a boot-shaped shot glass that once prompted a victim to exclaim "It goes all the way to the toe!"
For the record, it doesn't. But if it makes you feel better....
Anyway, the reason I'm telling you all this is that "Das Boot," as seen below, has been trumped.
Its big German cousin has come to stay for a while.
So why am I telling you this? Good question. I had to tell you that to tell you this:
It's strange to fly with only a 2L glass boot, a copy of Wicked (the book) and the contents of your pockets as carry-ons.
Wicked, you may rightly ask... Yes. Ask Dana. She's been after me to read it. It wasn't nearly as gay as I thought it would be either. No singing at all. Mercifully.
Anyway, after the usual fun in the security line, I put my plastic tray of stuff (wallet, keys, phone, ipod, etc.), flip flops and shopping bag on the x-ray belt. Now the boot is packed in a brown box and this is inside a clear plastic Hofbrauhaus shopping bag, along with the book. The stuff goes into the machine and I step through the metal detector.
My bin comes out. My flip flops follow. All is well. The bag starts to emerge from the baleen curtain, and wait! It goes back in. The girl watching the monitor leans in for a better view. She's about my age and she's squinting at the monitor like she's got glaucoma, or is very drunk.
She ponders the view for a minute and calls over her supervisor. A middle-aged civil service type with a government issue mustache and glasses. She asks, "Is that really an empty box?"
The supervisor looks at the screen for half a second and says "I know what it is. It's a big glass boot."
This confuses the girl on the stool, so he says, "Run it out. It'll be in a Hofbrauhaus bag."
She looks at him, perplexed. He says, "It's a drinking thing." This does not help. She is still confused. He thinks for a moment and asks "Haven't you seen Beerfest?" and turns to me for confirmation, to which I can only say "Great movie."
She's still drawing a blank and the line is getting longer. She runs out the belt and the supervisor shows her the Hofbrauhaus bag. She nods as though she has learned something. He hands me the bag and I go on my way.
That's it. No moral or anything, only a question. If you work airport security in Vegas, how many odd drinking vessels do you see in carry on luggage in a given day? How many plastic Eiffel Towers and yard long margarita glasses? Have you never really seen an invisible glass boot on an x-ray?
No, we are not talking about an old WWII submarine movie starring Jurgen Prochnow. Though I hear that's awesome in its own right.
No, what you're hearing about is a much more "useful" iteration of Das Boot. It's a boot-shaped shot glass that once prompted a victim to exclaim "It goes all the way to the toe!"
For the record, it doesn't. But if it makes you feel better....
Anyway, the reason I'm telling you all this is that "Das Boot," as seen below, has been trumped.
Its big German cousin has come to stay for a while.
So why am I telling you this? Good question. I had to tell you that to tell you this:
It's strange to fly with only a 2L glass boot, a copy of Wicked (the book) and the contents of your pockets as carry-ons.
Wicked, you may rightly ask... Yes. Ask Dana. She's been after me to read it. It wasn't nearly as gay as I thought it would be either. No singing at all. Mercifully.
Anyway, after the usual fun in the security line, I put my plastic tray of stuff (wallet, keys, phone, ipod, etc.), flip flops and shopping bag on the x-ray belt. Now the boot is packed in a brown box and this is inside a clear plastic Hofbrauhaus shopping bag, along with the book. The stuff goes into the machine and I step through the metal detector.
My bin comes out. My flip flops follow. All is well. The bag starts to emerge from the baleen curtain, and wait! It goes back in. The girl watching the monitor leans in for a better view. She's about my age and she's squinting at the monitor like she's got glaucoma, or is very drunk.
She ponders the view for a minute and calls over her supervisor. A middle-aged civil service type with a government issue mustache and glasses. She asks, "Is that really an empty box?"
The supervisor looks at the screen for half a second and says "I know what it is. It's a big glass boot."
This confuses the girl on the stool, so he says, "Run it out. It'll be in a Hofbrauhaus bag."
She looks at him, perplexed. He says, "It's a drinking thing." This does not help. She is still confused. He thinks for a moment and asks "Haven't you seen Beerfest?" and turns to me for confirmation, to which I can only say "Great movie."
She's still drawing a blank and the line is getting longer. She runs out the belt and the supervisor shows her the Hofbrauhaus bag. She nods as though she has learned something. He hands me the bag and I go on my way.
That's it. No moral or anything, only a question. If you work airport security in Vegas, how many odd drinking vessels do you see in carry on luggage in a given day? How many plastic Eiffel Towers and yard long margarita glasses? Have you never really seen an invisible glass boot on an x-ray?
Tuesday, January 5, 2010
Yes, I am alive....
In case you were wondering. If, like me you use the blog roll tool to keep track of things, you probably haven't seen me above the fold for quite some time. Well I'm here. I'm alive. I still have fingers to type with. I also have lots of stories I can tell.
But I'm not going to.
Those of you in my regular orbit have lived them with me or heard them already, and most of you are the people who read this thing.
So I'm also seeing a rash of "Year in Review" posts. So here's mine.
2009: Oof. I'm glad it's over. I'm even more glad it happened.
Time to move on into 2010 and figure out what the hell is coming up next. I've got a series of goals and objectives, which I won't write about until they become necessary to the story I'm telling.
What I will say is that I am looking forward to the adventure. I learned a lot in 2009 and I plan to apply the lessons well. I've got a solid circle of friends who continue to surprise me (no mean feat, that!), a family that stands behind me, and an incredible girl by my side. This is gonna be one hell of a ride.
See you on the roads, kids.
But I'm not going to.
Those of you in my regular orbit have lived them with me or heard them already, and most of you are the people who read this thing.
So I'm also seeing a rash of "Year in Review" posts. So here's mine.
2009: Oof. I'm glad it's over. I'm even more glad it happened.
Time to move on into 2010 and figure out what the hell is coming up next. I've got a series of goals and objectives, which I won't write about until they become necessary to the story I'm telling.
What I will say is that I am looking forward to the adventure. I learned a lot in 2009 and I plan to apply the lessons well. I've got a solid circle of friends who continue to surprise me (no mean feat, that!), a family that stands behind me, and an incredible girl by my side. This is gonna be one hell of a ride.
See you on the roads, kids.
Wednesday, September 2, 2009
Another Music Post
It's been a while. I know. Don't get your hopes up. I'm not going to say anything definite or provide any kind of factual update to anything that's been going on. Someone asked me recently how things were going and my response was "Things continue and the dude abides." The reference got missed but the sentiment was dead on.
That said, these two songs have been on the playlist a lot lately, along with the rest if these guys' catalog. The band is called Thrice and I think they're my favorite band of the moment. The songs seem a bit contradictory in terms of lyrical content, but they go together for me. They're both from the album "The Artist in the Ambulance."
The Melting Point of Wax
I've waited for this moment
All my life and more
And now I see so clearly
What I could not see before.
The time is now or never
This chance won't come again
Throw caution and myself into the wind.
There's no promise of safety with these secondhand wings
But I'm willing to find out what impossible means.
A leap of faith.
Parody of an angel
Miles above the sea
I hear the voice of reason
Screaming after me
"You've flown far too high boy now you're too close to the sun,
Soon your makeshift wings will come undone"
But how will I know limits from lies if I never try?
There's no promise of safety with these secondhand wings
But I'm willing to find out what impossible means.
I'll climb through the heavens on feathers and dreams
'Cause the melting point of wax means nothing to me.
Nothing to me
Nothing to me
I will touch the sun or I will die trying.
Die Trying.
Fly on these secondhand wings
Willing to find out what impossible means
I'll climb through the heavens on feathers and dreams
'Cause the melting point of wax means nothing to me
Nothing to me
Means nothing to me
Miles above the sea.
The Artist in the Ambulance
Late night, brakes lock, hear the tires squeal
Red light, can't stop so I spin the wheel
My world goes black before I feel an angel lift me up
And I open bloodshot eyes into fluorescent white
They flip the siren, hit the lights, close the doors and I am gone
Now I lay here owing my life to a stranger
And I realize that empty words are not enough
I'm left here with the question of just
What have I to show except the promises I never kept?
I lie here shaking on this bed, under the weight of my regrets
[Chorus:]
I hope that I will never let you down
I know that this can be more than just flashing lights and sound
Look around and you'll see that at times it feels like no one really cares
It gets me down but I'm still gonna try to do what's right, I know that there's
A difference between sleight of hand, and giving everything you have
There's a line drawn in the sand, I'm working up the will to cross it and
[Chorus]
Rhetoric can't raise the dead
I'm sick of always talking when there's no change
Rhetoric can't raise the dead
I'm sick of empty words, let's lead and not follow
Late night, brakes lock, hear the tires squeal
Red light, can't stop so I spin the wheel
My world goes black before I feel an angel steal me from the
Greedy jaws of death and chance, and pull me in with steady hands
They've given me a second chance, the artist in the ambulance
[Chorus]
Can we pick you off the ground, more than flashing lights and sound
That said, these two songs have been on the playlist a lot lately, along with the rest if these guys' catalog. The band is called Thrice and I think they're my favorite band of the moment. The songs seem a bit contradictory in terms of lyrical content, but they go together for me. They're both from the album "The Artist in the Ambulance."
The Melting Point of Wax
I've waited for this moment
All my life and more
And now I see so clearly
What I could not see before.
The time is now or never
This chance won't come again
Throw caution and myself into the wind.
There's no promise of safety with these secondhand wings
But I'm willing to find out what impossible means.
A leap of faith.
Parody of an angel
Miles above the sea
I hear the voice of reason
Screaming after me
"You've flown far too high boy now you're too close to the sun,
Soon your makeshift wings will come undone"
But how will I know limits from lies if I never try?
There's no promise of safety with these secondhand wings
But I'm willing to find out what impossible means.
I'll climb through the heavens on feathers and dreams
'Cause the melting point of wax means nothing to me.
Nothing to me
Nothing to me
I will touch the sun or I will die trying.
Die Trying.
Fly on these secondhand wings
Willing to find out what impossible means
I'll climb through the heavens on feathers and dreams
'Cause the melting point of wax means nothing to me
Nothing to me
Means nothing to me
Miles above the sea.
The Artist in the Ambulance
Late night, brakes lock, hear the tires squeal
Red light, can't stop so I spin the wheel
My world goes black before I feel an angel lift me up
And I open bloodshot eyes into fluorescent white
They flip the siren, hit the lights, close the doors and I am gone
Now I lay here owing my life to a stranger
And I realize that empty words are not enough
I'm left here with the question of just
What have I to show except the promises I never kept?
I lie here shaking on this bed, under the weight of my regrets
[Chorus:]
I hope that I will never let you down
I know that this can be more than just flashing lights and sound
Look around and you'll see that at times it feels like no one really cares
It gets me down but I'm still gonna try to do what's right, I know that there's
A difference between sleight of hand, and giving everything you have
There's a line drawn in the sand, I'm working up the will to cross it and
[Chorus]
Rhetoric can't raise the dead
I'm sick of always talking when there's no change
Rhetoric can't raise the dead
I'm sick of empty words, let's lead and not follow
Late night, brakes lock, hear the tires squeal
Red light, can't stop so I spin the wheel
My world goes black before I feel an angel steal me from the
Greedy jaws of death and chance, and pull me in with steady hands
They've given me a second chance, the artist in the ambulance
[Chorus]
Can we pick you off the ground, more than flashing lights and sound
Wednesday, August 5, 2009
Road Tunes
This past weekend, I had to make a solo run from Oakland to San Diego in a pickup truck with no air conditioning. If anyone needs a 2000-something Chevy Silverado extended cab, drop a line.
Now, if you know me at all, you know that I have an uncanny ability to turn the events of my life, significant and trivial, into massive piles of stress using only the power of my mind. Boredom is, and always has been, one of the greatest catalysts of this process. As you may imagine, I was a little leery of 6-8 hours in a car with only my iPod, the San Joaquin Valley and the inner recesses of my head for company.
Thankfully, the iPod and the valley delivered. It was a beautiful day without too much traffic and the tunes worked like magic. I was totally in the zone and made the run in 7.5 hours. I had so much fun with the tunes that I started keeping track of the playlist. One thing you may find interesting, if you've spent any time in a car with me, is that there's no metal in it.
For the first hour, I ran the iPod on library shuffle. Hey, it was 7:30 in the morning and I was feeling indecisive. After the gas stop, this is what spun out of the stereo.
Panic! At The Disco: A Fever You Can't Sweat Out
Drive-By Truckers: Southern Rock Opera
Kenny Chesney: Live Those Songs Again
Cross-Canadian Ragweed: Back To Tulsa, disc 1
Arctic Monkeys: Favorite Worst Nightmare
Dierks Bentley: Feel That Fire
Our Lady Peace: Burn Burn
So if you've got a long drive ahead, that's my suggestion.
Now, if you know me at all, you know that I have an uncanny ability to turn the events of my life, significant and trivial, into massive piles of stress using only the power of my mind. Boredom is, and always has been, one of the greatest catalysts of this process. As you may imagine, I was a little leery of 6-8 hours in a car with only my iPod, the San Joaquin Valley and the inner recesses of my head for company.
Thankfully, the iPod and the valley delivered. It was a beautiful day without too much traffic and the tunes worked like magic. I was totally in the zone and made the run in 7.5 hours. I had so much fun with the tunes that I started keeping track of the playlist. One thing you may find interesting, if you've spent any time in a car with me, is that there's no metal in it.
For the first hour, I ran the iPod on library shuffle. Hey, it was 7:30 in the morning and I was feeling indecisive. After the gas stop, this is what spun out of the stereo.
Panic! At The Disco: A Fever You Can't Sweat Out
Drive-By Truckers: Southern Rock Opera
Kenny Chesney: Live Those Songs Again
Cross-Canadian Ragweed: Back To Tulsa, disc 1
Arctic Monkeys: Favorite Worst Nightmare
Dierks Bentley: Feel That Fire
Our Lady Peace: Burn Burn
So if you've got a long drive ahead, that's my suggestion.
Thursday, July 23, 2009
Vineman. When You Start to Sizzle, You Move Your Ass.
As usual, for the math geeks and the short attention spanners, here are the numbers:
Swim (Watch split): 0:35:28
T1 (approx): 0:04:10
Bike: 3:02:50
T2: 0:07:01
Run: 3:06:03
Total Time: 6:55:34
Race day dawned before I got up, which was pretty cool. I was lucky enough to have an early start, at 7:02 AM in wave 5. Riding down to the start I had my first thought about how different this race was going to be, since all I had on my back was my mesh Zoot bag. That's right, no transition bag for this race. The Zoot bag contained a pretty minimal kit, too. Wetsuit, flip flops, body glide, goggles, swim cap and sunblock. Everything else I would need before T2 was attached to the bike.
I was strangely calm as we got into transition. I didn't even use my ipod or go through any of my pre-race jitters. Seems like before I knew it, it was 10 minutes to start and I said good luck to a few friends and headed down to the water.
Swim:
The horn sounded and I took off. I had a little crowd control problem in the first hundred yards or so, but I got clear and found a rhythm pretty fast. I made my along the line of buoys and the only thing that worried me was that every time I hit the one I'd been sighting on, there was another pair. I really wished I had counted them ahead of time so I would have known where the turn was. I'd been warned ahead of time about how shallow the river got in places, but I wasn't ready to grab muck before the halfway point, or to swim into the legs of someone who had stood up to walk at the turn. I don't think he was ready to fall on his ass either, so we'll call it even. Around the turn and into the back stretch I ran into problems. Navigational problems that is. I realized how far off I was when I got close to the bridge and realized I was headed to the wrong side of the leg. I made a hard jag back toward center, only to get stuck behind a frog-kicking girls from a wave or two ahead of me. She wound up getting her ankle grabbed as I jerked past her. Sorry. And then it was out of the water. Final watch split: 00:35:28, my slowest half iron swim so far, but still nothing to sneeze at.
T1:
Pretty clean, considering I had to get my swim gear off, bike gear on and the whole shebang repacked into the Zoot bag so it could get moved to T2. I was really looking forward to those flip-flops. 4 minutes or so and I was on the bike.
Bike:
This bike course rocks. Apart from some rough, narrow roads, it's not technical. It's mostly flat/rolling and a lot of it even has shade. As I came up on the first turn, I felt like I was on a course to make my first goal of the race, which was to finish the bike under 3 hours. I know, it was way too early to feel like that, but I did. A couple miles in, I was approaching a hard right turn into a short, steep climb and there's a volunteer yelling STOP!. Right about then I hear the siren and jam on the brakes. My back wheel starts to slide, but I get my foot out and keep from falling, stopping about a foot shy of the side of a moving ambulance. Not a good sign.
The ambulance passes and I start riding again, from a cold stop up the steep hill. I start talking to the guy next to me about how that just totally messed up our rhythm. Strangely, he agrees with me. We crest the hill and there's another volunteer saying there's been an accident and we'll have to get off our bikes. Also not good. A few hundred yards later, we see the ambulance and a giant tree across the road. There's a cluster of bikers standing there waiting to walk under the tree. There's a fire truck and a cop car on the other side. Going under, I realize that there's a guy under the tree. The paramedics are trying to get him onto a backboard. I shudder.
Clear of the tree, we take off. The guy next to me asks whether I think having a tree fall on you is more or less likely than getting hit by lightning. I have no idea, but I know he's drafting, so I accelerate away. Within the next mile I heard one crash behind me, and then heard another one and turned just in time to see the guy slide into the embankment.
The rest of the ride was pretty uneventful. I felt strong pretty much the whole time. I remembered my lesson from Wildflower and had 6 scoops of CarboPro and 3.5 Nuun tabs spread across 2 water bottles. My other two were plain water. I exchanged two bottles at the first aid station and rode away with more water and a bottle of Gatorade. I never touched my Gus, but I never felt hungry. It must have worked too, because I also never cramped up on the bike.
My only moment of trouble came on the way up Chalk Hill when I suddenly found myself unable to shift into my easiest gears. WTF? At least it wasn't Wildflower. Chalk hill isn't particularly rough, except that it's at mile 42 or so and you're past the last aid station. I stood up, powered up it and dropped back into aero on the other side.
Not too long later, I was in T2, feeling good but a little disappointed that my dead reckoning split was 3:05. Turns out it was 3:02, but I think that without the attack tree I would have made it under.
T2:
This is just sort of embarrassing. I got to my spot pretty quick, but I had trouble getting my ice jug open. Then the guy next to me on the rack showed up and wanted to chat about the tree. Finally, I had to wrestle out of my jersey and into my Barney Butter jersey, which required a fresh application of Body Glide to my sides and chest. The jersey tore me up at Longhorn and I didn't want to have that experience again. I finally got out on the run 7 minutes later. Need to work on that.
Run:
This was an unstated, though internal goal of mine. Run at least half of the course. I'm pretty sure I did it too, though my time doesn't bear it out. It took about 3 miles for my legs to loosen up from the ride. What has two thumbs and needs to work his bike to run transition? That's right, this guy.
Anyway, once my legs loosened up, I found a pretty good rhythm and was able to run more than walk for most of the way out to the turnaround at La Crema Winery. I didn't see many friends on the way out, except for Chris and Joanna, my fellow Barney Butter-ites. I got a confused look from Chris when I called his name, but had a quick chat with Jo as she passed me. Somewhere past the big hill, I heard the following, which threw me for a second: "The sexy thing is that you're running."
And then Brian Melekian ran past me, looking like he wasn't working at all. We had a quick shouted chat and I was on my own again.
Around this point, I still wasn't hungry, but I had a Gu and a salt tab, just to be safe. I still felt good, although the temperature was climbing. When I got to La Crema, I grabbed a couple of fig newtons at the aid station, along with water and Gatorade. Bad idea on the newtons. I couldn't chew them. I choked one down like prison penance and threw the other two away. On the dirt path through the winery, I felt okay, but the heat and dust started to get to me, so I decided to walk around the first pond and run the second. Oops. The second one is way longer. As I crossed onto the trail, I ran into Derek from TNT and we made snarky comments before I ran on.
Derek caught me at the aid station where I made my second mistake and grabbed some flat cola. What kind of cola? What's a pirate's favorite cola? That's right ARRRRR-C cola! (You're welcome Ben and Mike.) This is supposed to be good on the run for some reason but all it was good for was making me burp.
I ran/walked with Derek for the next few miles, wondering why I hadn't seen more friends. Of course, as soon as I said something, we started seeing all sorts of San Diego TNT-ers. I also saw Dana and Paul about this point. At about mile 8, I had a second wind and Derek dropped off. I ran on through about mile 9.5 before I melted down. My calves started to cramp. And I don't mean "oh, that kind of hurts." I'm talking about mucles rippling up and down on the tendons twanging nerves like like badly tuned banjo strings. It got so bad that from mile 10 on, I couldn't run more than a hundred yards or so without the cramps coming back.
This is of course when I saw Gunn, Jason, Penny, Jodi, Robin and pretty much everyone I knew. Awesome.
I gritted my teeth and ran/stumbled my way out into the neighborhood where Betsy caught me at a walk and told me to run the last mile with her. I tried, but the calves rebelled and she pulled away. As I turned into Windsor High for the finish, I saw Iris heading out. I gave her a big high five and dug deep to find something to run through the finish.
I crossed the finish at a run, grabbed my medal and water and headed out to...realize I hadn't turned in my chip. I went back.
So what did I learn? A lot. I learned that it's okay to hold back and leave something in the tank for the run. I spent all last year burning down to the cinders on the bike because I knew that with my feet I wouldn't be able to run. I learned that 6 scoops of CarboPro is hard to choke down, but the 675 calories it give you is really useful. Especially on top of the bagel w/ peanut butter, glass of apple juice and clif bar I had for breakfast. That and 1 Gu (100 calories) was enough to put me through the race with more than enough fuel.
I learned that 3.5 Nuun tabs and 5 salt tabs isn't enough on a hot day. Given that I never felt tired or hungry, I have to chalk the muscle problems up to salt and lack of bricks.
Finally, I learned that my style of racing, which is definitely more relaxed than that of most of my friends, works for me. It's not for everyone, but I'm really digging racing on feel. I'm still happy with not having a computer on my bike, and with not using my heart rate to make speed decisions. I'm happy having my watch and taking splits but not really looking at them. I'm enjoying the races, even when they hurt, and that is progress.
So yeah, my swim was my slowest 1.2 miler and my run was longer than my bike again, but I had a lot of fun. I enjoyed my race and I wasn't destroyed afterward. In the final analysis, despite the issues I ran my fastest 70.3 to date and accomplished my only major goal, which was to break 7 hours. I call that a success.
I've got a lot to do to get ready for Pumpkinman and for the challenges to come, but this race showed me that I'm on the right track.
Swim (Watch split): 0:35:28
T1 (approx): 0:04:10
Bike: 3:02:50
T2: 0:07:01
Run: 3:06:03
Total Time: 6:55:34
Race day dawned before I got up, which was pretty cool. I was lucky enough to have an early start, at 7:02 AM in wave 5. Riding down to the start I had my first thought about how different this race was going to be, since all I had on my back was my mesh Zoot bag. That's right, no transition bag for this race. The Zoot bag contained a pretty minimal kit, too. Wetsuit, flip flops, body glide, goggles, swim cap and sunblock. Everything else I would need before T2 was attached to the bike.
I was strangely calm as we got into transition. I didn't even use my ipod or go through any of my pre-race jitters. Seems like before I knew it, it was 10 minutes to start and I said good luck to a few friends and headed down to the water.
Swim:
The horn sounded and I took off. I had a little crowd control problem in the first hundred yards or so, but I got clear and found a rhythm pretty fast. I made my along the line of buoys and the only thing that worried me was that every time I hit the one I'd been sighting on, there was another pair. I really wished I had counted them ahead of time so I would have known where the turn was. I'd been warned ahead of time about how shallow the river got in places, but I wasn't ready to grab muck before the halfway point, or to swim into the legs of someone who had stood up to walk at the turn. I don't think he was ready to fall on his ass either, so we'll call it even. Around the turn and into the back stretch I ran into problems. Navigational problems that is. I realized how far off I was when I got close to the bridge and realized I was headed to the wrong side of the leg. I made a hard jag back toward center, only to get stuck behind a frog-kicking girls from a wave or two ahead of me. She wound up getting her ankle grabbed as I jerked past her. Sorry. And then it was out of the water. Final watch split: 00:35:28, my slowest half iron swim so far, but still nothing to sneeze at.
T1:
Pretty clean, considering I had to get my swim gear off, bike gear on and the whole shebang repacked into the Zoot bag so it could get moved to T2. I was really looking forward to those flip-flops. 4 minutes or so and I was on the bike.
Bike:
This bike course rocks. Apart from some rough, narrow roads, it's not technical. It's mostly flat/rolling and a lot of it even has shade. As I came up on the first turn, I felt like I was on a course to make my first goal of the race, which was to finish the bike under 3 hours. I know, it was way too early to feel like that, but I did. A couple miles in, I was approaching a hard right turn into a short, steep climb and there's a volunteer yelling STOP!. Right about then I hear the siren and jam on the brakes. My back wheel starts to slide, but I get my foot out and keep from falling, stopping about a foot shy of the side of a moving ambulance. Not a good sign.
The ambulance passes and I start riding again, from a cold stop up the steep hill. I start talking to the guy next to me about how that just totally messed up our rhythm. Strangely, he agrees with me. We crest the hill and there's another volunteer saying there's been an accident and we'll have to get off our bikes. Also not good. A few hundred yards later, we see the ambulance and a giant tree across the road. There's a cluster of bikers standing there waiting to walk under the tree. There's a fire truck and a cop car on the other side. Going under, I realize that there's a guy under the tree. The paramedics are trying to get him onto a backboard. I shudder.
Clear of the tree, we take off. The guy next to me asks whether I think having a tree fall on you is more or less likely than getting hit by lightning. I have no idea, but I know he's drafting, so I accelerate away. Within the next mile I heard one crash behind me, and then heard another one and turned just in time to see the guy slide into the embankment.
The rest of the ride was pretty uneventful. I felt strong pretty much the whole time. I remembered my lesson from Wildflower and had 6 scoops of CarboPro and 3.5 Nuun tabs spread across 2 water bottles. My other two were plain water. I exchanged two bottles at the first aid station and rode away with more water and a bottle of Gatorade. I never touched my Gus, but I never felt hungry. It must have worked too, because I also never cramped up on the bike.
My only moment of trouble came on the way up Chalk Hill when I suddenly found myself unable to shift into my easiest gears. WTF? At least it wasn't Wildflower. Chalk hill isn't particularly rough, except that it's at mile 42 or so and you're past the last aid station. I stood up, powered up it and dropped back into aero on the other side.
Not too long later, I was in T2, feeling good but a little disappointed that my dead reckoning split was 3:05. Turns out it was 3:02, but I think that without the attack tree I would have made it under.
T2:
This is just sort of embarrassing. I got to my spot pretty quick, but I had trouble getting my ice jug open. Then the guy next to me on the rack showed up and wanted to chat about the tree. Finally, I had to wrestle out of my jersey and into my Barney Butter jersey, which required a fresh application of Body Glide to my sides and chest. The jersey tore me up at Longhorn and I didn't want to have that experience again. I finally got out on the run 7 minutes later. Need to work on that.
Run:
This was an unstated, though internal goal of mine. Run at least half of the course. I'm pretty sure I did it too, though my time doesn't bear it out. It took about 3 miles for my legs to loosen up from the ride. What has two thumbs and needs to work his bike to run transition? That's right, this guy.
Anyway, once my legs loosened up, I found a pretty good rhythm and was able to run more than walk for most of the way out to the turnaround at La Crema Winery. I didn't see many friends on the way out, except for Chris and Joanna, my fellow Barney Butter-ites. I got a confused look from Chris when I called his name, but had a quick chat with Jo as she passed me. Somewhere past the big hill, I heard the following, which threw me for a second: "The sexy thing is that you're running."
And then Brian Melekian ran past me, looking like he wasn't working at all. We had a quick shouted chat and I was on my own again.
Around this point, I still wasn't hungry, but I had a Gu and a salt tab, just to be safe. I still felt good, although the temperature was climbing. When I got to La Crema, I grabbed a couple of fig newtons at the aid station, along with water and Gatorade. Bad idea on the newtons. I couldn't chew them. I choked one down like prison penance and threw the other two away. On the dirt path through the winery, I felt okay, but the heat and dust started to get to me, so I decided to walk around the first pond and run the second. Oops. The second one is way longer. As I crossed onto the trail, I ran into Derek from TNT and we made snarky comments before I ran on.
Derek caught me at the aid station where I made my second mistake and grabbed some flat cola. What kind of cola? What's a pirate's favorite cola? That's right ARRRRR-C cola! (You're welcome Ben and Mike.) This is supposed to be good on the run for some reason but all it was good for was making me burp.
I ran/walked with Derek for the next few miles, wondering why I hadn't seen more friends. Of course, as soon as I said something, we started seeing all sorts of San Diego TNT-ers. I also saw Dana and Paul about this point. At about mile 8, I had a second wind and Derek dropped off. I ran on through about mile 9.5 before I melted down. My calves started to cramp. And I don't mean "oh, that kind of hurts." I'm talking about mucles rippling up and down on the tendons twanging nerves like like badly tuned banjo strings. It got so bad that from mile 10 on, I couldn't run more than a hundred yards or so without the cramps coming back.
This is of course when I saw Gunn, Jason, Penny, Jodi, Robin and pretty much everyone I knew. Awesome.
I gritted my teeth and ran/stumbled my way out into the neighborhood where Betsy caught me at a walk and told me to run the last mile with her. I tried, but the calves rebelled and she pulled away. As I turned into Windsor High for the finish, I saw Iris heading out. I gave her a big high five and dug deep to find something to run through the finish.
I crossed the finish at a run, grabbed my medal and water and headed out to...realize I hadn't turned in my chip. I went back.
So what did I learn? A lot. I learned that it's okay to hold back and leave something in the tank for the run. I spent all last year burning down to the cinders on the bike because I knew that with my feet I wouldn't be able to run. I learned that 6 scoops of CarboPro is hard to choke down, but the 675 calories it give you is really useful. Especially on top of the bagel w/ peanut butter, glass of apple juice and clif bar I had for breakfast. That and 1 Gu (100 calories) was enough to put me through the race with more than enough fuel.
I learned that 3.5 Nuun tabs and 5 salt tabs isn't enough on a hot day. Given that I never felt tired or hungry, I have to chalk the muscle problems up to salt and lack of bricks.
Finally, I learned that my style of racing, which is definitely more relaxed than that of most of my friends, works for me. It's not for everyone, but I'm really digging racing on feel. I'm still happy with not having a computer on my bike, and with not using my heart rate to make speed decisions. I'm happy having my watch and taking splits but not really looking at them. I'm enjoying the races, even when they hurt, and that is progress.
So yeah, my swim was my slowest 1.2 miler and my run was longer than my bike again, but I had a lot of fun. I enjoyed my race and I wasn't destroyed afterward. In the final analysis, despite the issues I ran my fastest 70.3 to date and accomplished my only major goal, which was to break 7 hours. I call that a success.
I've got a lot to do to get ready for Pumpkinman and for the challenges to come, but this race showed me that I'm on the right track.
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