The Big Show

Swim


I was pretty tired but very excited on race morning. As soon as I got in the water I headed left, and I couldn't help but think of the coutless times I’d watched NBC coverage over the years, and how brutal they made the swim sound. Well, everything they said was true, but as long as I didn’t lose my goggles or swallow too much salt water, I was determined to enjoy myself. The water was so beautiful and clear, it was hard to get upset about an occasional smack in the head or kick in the jaw.

I spent the first half watching fish and really enjoying myself. Just before the turn around it became painfully evident that all of my training sessions over the past month had been less than 2,000 yards, and I realized I was getting a bit pooped. I focused on staying relaxed and spent the remaining time either counting fish or counting strokes. I didn’t start my watch so I had no idea what my swim time was, although I felt pretty good and pretty happy – although a bit tired – as I exited the water and made my way into T1.

Bike



After a very crowded T1 (there really isn’t much room on the pier for the changing tents) and a quick application of some SPF70, I was away on the bike. I had been warned the bike would be hot, windy and filled with drafting, and that pretty much sums it up. Perhaps since I wasn't 'racing' the ubiquitous and blatant drafting didn’t bother me, and I just tried to keep out of trouble.

Once we turned off the Queen K and began the climb up to Hawi, the wind and the heat really began to pick up. About 2 miles into the climb I passed a German guy who looked wearily at me and said only “it is fuuuckeeeeng hooottt out here!” I felt like saying “welcome to Hawaii,” but given that I was a first timer and had no idea what to expect or how this compared to normal conditions, I just agreed and pedaled on.

About 15 miles out from Hawi and the winds started to really kick in. There’s no real way to describe the heat and wind in Hawaii…you really have to do it to understand. I was both scared of getting blown off the road and enjoying every moment of it. This is what Hawaii is about, right? Sudden gusts would take me across an entire lane and instantly reduce my speed from 18mph to 7mph, and the frightening part was you never knew when they were coming. After I passed the second ambulance picking up folks who I presumed were involved in wind-induced accidents, I decided to forego aerodynamics and ride upright on the bullhorns. Damned if my vacation was going to be ruined by an attempt to shave off an additional 90 seconds from my bike split.

With 30 miles to go I started to tire. The fact I hadn’t been on my bike in 4 weeks (I shipped the race bike to Kona the day after IMWI) was quickly catching up to me, and I kept the wattage in survival mode to through the rest of the bike. At the end of it all, I survived the winds and the climb to Hawi, and really had a blast out there, but I knew the run was going to be ugly.

Run



It was a pretty special experience running down the first 9 miles of Alii, packed with spectators and running along the ocean. Out of necessity, I decided my plan was to walk the aid stations and run the rest, for as long as I could keep it up. I was running a 7:20-7:30 pace and with walking breaks I was averaging somewhere in the neighborhood of 8:20’s. Good enough… The surprising thing was that even when I was running what I would consider a solid pace, I was steadily getting passed by other runners. It seemed for every 1 runner I would pass I would get passed by 5. Welcome to Hawaii!

I kept this up until about mile 10, and then I threw in the towel and began walking. I was pooped, and after all, I was here to have fun, right? An easy excuse, but since I didn’t come equipped with any mental fall-back, it was about all I could do. Fast forward to mile 22, and my old high school buddy Ken slowed as he passed and encouraged me to run with him. It wasn’t pretty, but I (barely) managed to keep up, and had a really great time the last 4 miles running in with him. It was a very memorable way to end my first Kona experience.

After all was said and done, I managed to meet all 3 of my goals, and couldn’t have been happier. The only regret I have is not having a plan beyond ‘just enjoying myself'. In retrospect, you need to be prepared for it when things get ugly (and they always do in an Ironman), and I wasn't. That being said, I have no regrets with my run, and although it might not be a time I would normally be happy with, I definitely had a wonderful time and a fantastic experience, and one which left me wanting to come back and do it again. I suppose that is what makes Ironman – and specifically, Ironman Hawaii – what it is.

It was also great to share the experience with Mary's folks and the Weaver-Fisher clan. Mary and I are already planning for next year!

Kona: Pre-Race

After almost 2 days of travel (we spent an afternoon and evening in Seattle on the way over in an attempt to break up the trip for the kids), we arrived on Wednesday afternoon with just enough time to register and pick up the bike. Check and check: off to a good start.

The first thing you immediately notice in Kona is the pro presence, which is (obviously) second to none. You can’t walk more than 100’ without seeing one of the greats in our sport. It’s strange to see folks who repeatedly adorn all the Tri publications walking about and training so freely in and around town. For the non-triathlete, it is like going to the 7th game of the World Series and spending the days leading up to the game practicing on the field with both teams. In my initial ¼ mile stroll up Alii as I headed to the expo, I saw Chrissie Wellington, Craig Alexander, Timothy O’Donnell, Luke Mackenzie, Greg Welch, Belinda Granger, and Julie Dibens, and I wasn’t even trying to spot anyone. I’m not usually at all starstuck, but to be perfectly honest I was feeling like a kid on Christmas morning.

Far too much time was spent on Thursday walking up and down Alii, checking out the expo with the kids, swimming at Dig Me Beach, and snorkeling, but I was having a blast, and this trip was more about the experience and the vacation than the race. With Mary and the kids, Nancy & Al, Amy & Jeff, and Matthew, Nikki and Andrew, there was going to be a lot of action at our house throughout the week, and I didn’t want to miss it in preparation for the race. As for the Ironman, I was aiming for a performance which would basically allow me to do 3 things:

1. Enjoy the race, have fun, and not worry about a time or placing
2. Vacation without excuses on Sunday morning, which I knew would include lots of soccer, snorkeling, hiking, etc.
3. Not go so slow as to embarrass myself


Friday began with a 5-hour snorkeling cruise, during which Oliver, Sadie and I got sea sick but had a great time once we were wet. Friday afternoon was spent checking in the gear bags and the bike. Bike check was quite a spectacle, with upwards of 200 spectators and counters watching folks check in their bike, half of which had lawn chairs and created a tunnel leading to transition, making me feel quite like I was in a parade.

I was exhausted but back at the house and ready to eat dinner and begin relaxing by 4pm. Only problem was we didn’t really have much besides bananas, beer and wine. I was too tired and lazy to do anything about it, and too stubborn to wait until ‘real’ dinner time, so my pre-race meal ended up being a peanut butter and banana sandwich and some chips. Not ideal but it did the trick.

Dig Me Beach

I can easily see why someone would want to come back to this event year after year. The atmosphere and excitement are at an entirely different level than any other race I've been to, and the spectating is second to none. Well, perhaps second to Las Vegas, but in a very different way.

I'm feeling exhausted from the travel, the walking up and down Alii, and the swimming with the kids, but I wouldn't trade it for anything. I can't wait for the race, both so I can experience it and get on with serious vacationing. And speaking of serious vacationing, I need to go get ready for a 5-hour snorkelling trip this morning...

(not) Leaving Las Vegas

It is Interbike week, and I again find myself in Vegas, wanting to escape. I went for my first run since IMWI this morning, and it was a beautiful experience and one that makes me actually look forward to visiting Vegas. Interesting because I always find the best part of Vegas is LEAVING Las Vegas. No, I am not a big fan of the strip, Vegas shows, gambling (losing) money I don’t have, all you can eat buffets, or escort services (for the record, I’ve never experienced said services, though I’m frightened enough by what I see on the postcards littering the sidewalks). But I am a HUGE fan of Red Rock Canyon. Not exactly Vegas, but I’ll give Vegas partial credit none-the-less. As a generally positive person, I like to see the glass half full, and my Vegas glass is filled almost entirely by RRC, though I’ll give a percentage or two to the weather for good measure. 2 days down, 5 to go…

IMWI Recap

Whether you think you can or you can't, you're right. (Henry Ford)

I’m going to try and keep this short because I still haven’t managed to get my head around my race this past weekend. It was a bittersweet experience: the highs were getting a 2011 Kona spot, pushing myself through a very rough final 10 miles of the run, and watching teammates and friends have great races. The low was coming into the race in better shape and on a perfect day I was still 6 minutes slower than last year. I had expected a 9:30-9:40 but fell well short with a 9:55. But so it goes…

Swim

Very uneventful, and aside from a few calf cramps during the 2nd loop, I was happy enough to get out in 1:05. It was a few minutes slower than planned, but I have NO internal speed gauge, and the goal was to keep it easy. Perhaps I kept it a bit too easy, but I wasn’t going to stress out over a few minutes.

Bike

I struggled with massive stomach cramps for the first hour but I kept reminding myself it was a long day and things could only get better. I quickly threw my pacing plans out the window and decided to go easy for the first lap and stay on top of nutrition: essentially, the opposite of my IMCDA experience. I kept the watts low and steady and didn’t look at any averages until half way through, and was a bit surprised to see 2:39. It wasn’t as bad as I was expecting, and fast forward through a 2:34 2nd lap and I was back at T2, feeling better than I ever have coming off the bike. No cramps, no doubts, no negative thoughts…ready for a great run.

Run

The spectators on the IMWI run course are amazing, and the support from Mary and the WI Multisport crew were the best! The plan was to go easy through 13 then pick it up. I came through 13.1 in 1:35 and was still feeling great, and thought my elusive sub-3:15 would finally be in reach. But mile 16 came and things took a downward turn...quickly. Suddenly I was facing 10 miles of what was sure to become a pretty ugly situation, and I spent the next 8 miles just focusing solely on moving.

Surprisingly, only Craig (from my AG, at least) passed as I plodded along from 16-24, and then came the pass I feared, and it happened quickly. I figured he was either flying or trying to mentally break me, and I had no idea who the guy was or where I was on the road. My stubbornness and determination immediately kicked in, and I told myself there was no way I was going to let someone pass and possibly get the final Kona spot this close to the finish. I kicked and stayed on his heels for about a half mile, then kicked again hard and kept it up until the finish. It might possibly have been the most painful 1.5 miles I’ve ever run in an Ironman. Only afterwards did I realize I didn’t need to push it as hard as I did, but it was still worth it: a mental victory I will be able to take with me to my next race. I rarely have moments in an Ironman where I really feel like I'm racing someone else, and I always really enjoy it. This is good, because I have the privilege of doing it again in 3 weeks in Hawaii. Until then…

Solo LSD Run

The LSD run was definitely interesting yesterday morning. This was my 2nd go at a solo, 17-miler at 5am on a Wednesday morning, and although it went a lot better than the last time, I definitely learned a few things:

1. Running long and alone can be a bit lonely: there were times when I absolutely enjoyed it and was able to relax and soak in the sounds of nature and the rising sun. Unfortunately, I more frequently wished I had someone to talk to and make the time pass more quickly.
2. Running long alone makes you mentally tougher: see #1 above. You simply cannot rely on someone taking your mind off the task at hand.
3. Running sans music makes you tougher: see #2 above. They’ll be no regularly diversions in the form of music come race day, so you shouldn’t get too dependent on that Eminem song to provide you with a pick-up at a critical point during the run come race day.
4. It’s still very dark at 5am.
5. I sweat like a baboon in a sauna: I took in 46 oz of water on my run and still lost about 6lbs.
6. Running slower during your LSD runs helps with recovery: I’m only 32 hours removed from my run but I feel great. I slowed my pace from our typical, Lanza-induced 6:50-6:55 pace to a 7:10 average, where I went out at 7:15 for the first half and picked it up to 7:05 for the 2nd half. Not a huge, huge slowdown, but I definitely already notice it. My main goal – aside from finishing the run – was to not have it affect my training today. We’ll see how that goes tonight on the group ride, but I feel I’m on track.

I’m definitely not ready to go it alone all the time, and I’m certainly hoping to have some company for at least half of my long runs, but I’m glad I made the solo trek yesterday morning.

Comedy Of Errors

First let me state I am very happy I finished the race, and overall am pretty happy with the day. I came into the race with pretty low expectations and I delivered. A comedy of errors pretty much sums up my race today, though unfortunately, I pretty much wrote the script and have no one to blame but myself.

After a very rough swim in which I swallowed ample amounts of Lake Coeur d'Alene, I found myself vomiting early on the bike. Not too bad, but I should have put on the brakes right there and brought my hydration around. Instead I forged on and biked as planned. Perhaps not the smartest move, because I got off the bike feeling a bit depleted nutritionally.

I quickly improvised and took it very easy on the first lap of the run. Come mile 13 I was starting to feel perky so I dialed it in to 'normal' IM racing pace. I made it to 14 feeling good, then suddenly started vomiting again. From 14 on I couldn't take in any fluids or calories without immediately throwing up, and realized my day was pretty much curtains. There was no way I was not going to finish, so I spent the majority of the rest of the race running 75 steps - at which point I would get light-headed from being nutritionally depleted - followed by a nice, long bout of walking. It wasn't pretty, but it eventually got me to the finish line. Not particularly a time I am proud of but an effort in which I can certainly take pride.

Definitely a good learning experience (nutrition ALWAYS comes before pacing), and one I hope I won't need come IMWI!

It was great to see both Cam and Rick out there on the course. Congrats to Rick for having a great race. I know he's not overly pleased with the way his day unfolded, but he toughed it out and had a good result.

Go Time

I woke up this morning at 3:30, not for fear of the 140.6 miles which I'll need to cover this morning, rather the fear of my wake-up call not being sent by the hotel. My most frequent recurring nightmare is sleeping in and waking up in time for some event or another. I don't recall ever missing anything from oversleeping, so I'm not sure how to analize this fear, although I'll leave that for another day.

1:39 until the gun goes off, and I'm feeling an overwhelming sense of calm. I'm sure that will change the moment I get down to transition, then the nerves will kick in as they always do. Which is perfectly the time the nerves of 2,800 athletes will be raging as we all line up to use the 10 port-o-potties they have at the start.

My plan today is to be conservative and steady. My mental fall-back is my family, especially my kids. As cliche as it sounds, I really do want Oliver and Sadie to know they can do anything they put their mind to as long as they are willing to put in the time and practice in preparation. I'm not expecting my 11th Ironman to provide any watershed moments, but I do want my kids to see the payoff for all of those pre-dawn rides and runs. My other mental 'one reason' is my sister, who I don't see very often but love immensely, and from whom I received a very inspiring text message this morning. Thanks, Mis!

Good luck to all...I hope everyone has a great race today!

IMCDA: The Countdown??

As I sit in the Denver airport en route to Coeur d'Alene, I'm realizing I haven't really put any thought into my mental race plan for this weekend. I respect the distance and know better than to not have a plan (and certainly race day isn't the time to attempt to sort things out), but for one reason or another I just haven't done it. So my number one goal between now and tomorrow is to figure it out. Sounds easy enough, no?

Problem is, I feel so detached from it all; a strange mixture of being pre-occupied and apathetic. Why am I racing? What do I want to (realistically) achieve? What's my mental plan when things get tough? I've got nothing. Nothing but 2.5 days to figure it out...
    
 

Wildflower, Take III

My 3rd stab at Wildflower is in the books, and I always learn something from this race. Overall, it was a great weekend, although a bit chilly. If I've learned anything from my last 2 attempts, it is that this course demands patience. Patience or a lot of cycling fitness, and since I can only occasionally muster the former at this time of year, I focused on a steady and conservative race.

With 61 degree water temps I expected a slow swim, as I'm a massive wimp when it comes to cold. What I didn't expect was to see a 32 when I looked at my watch, which was almost 3 minutes slower than last year. So much for all of my 'improvements' in the pool!

The bike at Wildflower is beautiful and challenging, with about 3,700' of climbing. Last year I was dead by the end and I struggled in the run, so this year I took it much easier for the first half and then slowly picked it up. No one passed me on the bike, which was really strange, because guys always seem to be blowing by me for the first third of the bike.

I didn't bring any PowerBar gels or Endurance on the run, and I paid for it. I just can't stand Gatorade, and by mile 7, I was way behind on calories and fluid, but managed to stagger through the last 6 miles, although it got plenty ugly. Second learning: always carry my own product for half iron-distance races.

I was thrilled to finish, and it was a nice surprise to get 2nd in my AG, which I really wasn't expecting.

I highly recommend Wildflower to everyone who doesn't hate camping. It is a really cool weekend, and it was really good to hang out with the PowerBar guys, and my old friend Tim Hola, who finished first amatuer overall. I'm just happy to have another 4 years befor our age groups overlap again.

Now I need 3 good weeks of training before Boise, then another good 2 weeks before IMCDA. I really do love the race season!!

Trailbreaker

First race of the year this morning...the Trailbreaker Half Marathon, and it went well. After a winter of training - mostly indoors - you just don't know what to expect out of the gates.  I came in thinking a 1:21 sounded about right, but really had no idea. I just knew I'd be dissapointed if I went slower than my 1:23 last year, especially after a winter of chasing the Lanza's aroun in the freezing cold and pitch dark every Sunday morning.  

I didn't have a plan other than to start conservatively and slowly pick it up, which I did until I crossed the line in 1:19:45, which I was very happy with.  It was a good start to the season, and now I have another month until Wildflower, where I'll target a 2:40 bike and a 1:30 run. If I can do this without killing myself, I'll conifer myself on track for IMCDA.  Now I just need to get outside on the bike, which I haven't done since IMWI last year, which is a bit pathetic, I realize...

Post-Vacation Blues

Back from a wonderful week in Costa Rica with Mary. After a week of snorkeling, hiking, rafting, monkey searching, eating and drinking, I am eager - although a little scared - to get back into the swing of working out. My eating far outweighed my activity, and by the end of the week I was jiggling in places I wasn't previously. I packed on about 5lbs, but it was well worth each and every ounce, though a bit sadly how quick it happens...

Run to the Hills

Can one really miss WI in the winter while visiting Phoenix? Coming as a complete surprise to even myself, I sit in Phoenix, wishing I were home. Sure, it might have a great deal to do with missing Mary and the kids, and things could definitely swing towards the other direction if I had a bike. But to be honest, I’ve never had any luck with riding in Phoenix (too congested, too flat, and not enough bike lanes), and the running from downtown leaves a lot to be desired. Apparently there are good trails up in the hills, but similar to Las Vegas, the hills – which are seemingly close in all directions – are still too far away to reach by foot, or at least by these feet. And to top it off, I can’t get Iron Maiden’s Run to the Hills lyrics – or at least the only two lines I know (run to the hills, run for your lives) – out of my mind. Scary on a couple levels…

My Dad is actually here, so it’s really great to see him, and I’m trying to soak up a little vitamin D while I’m here. But as Simon and Garfunkel said:

Homeward bound,
I wish I was,
Homeward bound,
Home where my thought's escaping,
Home where my music's playing,
Home where my love lies waiting
Silently for me.

OK, perhaps there’s no such thing as silence awaiting my return home (at least not at my house), but when Sadie and I break out into an impromptu dance party on Sunday (which I’m sure we will do), at least it won’t be to the lyrics of an Iron Maiden song.

Killing Me Softly

I’m pretty sure my friend Craig is trying to kill me. At first I didn’t notice, his efforts so subtle and masked underneath his friendly demeanor, but I’m onto him now. It all started, innocently enough, with an invitation to join he and his brother Larry for Sunday long runs. Ok, I told, him, although I wanted/needed to keep it slow. Something in the 7:45/mile range. No worries he told me, yet 1:56 and 16.6 miles later (a 7:00/mile average) we were finished. Our next several outings – even with the snow and slippery conditions – were the same speed. Definitely faster than I intended, but I survived. Nice try, Craig, but it will take more than that.

Next he gave me a copy of a Troy Jacobsen time trial DVD. Although it didn’t kill me, it certainly felt like it was going to, and it provided my legs with some good cramps by the time I hit my cool down. But his most recent test really opened my eyes: an invitation to join the Shroeder masters group for a 100 x 100 swim workout.

I knew going in that there was no chance of me completing the workout, but wanted to see how far I could go and what would happen. Long story short: I made the first 60, and all but the final 8 on a 1:45 send-off. 6,000 meters, which is almost 2,000 meters further than I have gone before. The first 40 or so were hard but do-able, and by about 45 I really started to hit the wall. For most of the final 7 or 8 I just kept reminding myself that I still needed enough energy to be able to pull myself from the pool.

Craig continued to offer words of support whenever our send-off’s would see us both at the wall at the same time, but I now recognize them for thinly veiled attempts to encourage my eventual drowning. Little did he realize I did, in fact, reserve just enough energy to crawl out of the pool, assume the fetal position, and cry softly behind the stack of kick boards where I couldn’t be seen.

I still haven’t figured out why he wants to take me out, but I’ll be sleeping with one eye open from now on.