Favorite Finish Lines

The Science of Swimming Tall

2011-11-27T15:52:00.001-05:00

It’s no secret to anyone thatwhen it comes to swimming, length matters. The whole notion of swimming tall and lengthening your stroke whilemaximizing the glide is probably not foreign to you, but few bother to think ofthe physics behind it. So I offer thisexplanation from what I’ve learned as a design engineer of marine vessels. I introduce you to the nerd in me:

The Math

There is a basic fundamental mathematical relation thatproves that two vessels, in which all other variables are the same, the longerone will have a higher velocity. This is a relative equation defined asthe speed-to-length ratio, and it holds true for watercraft of all sizes. For example, a canoe can have the same speed-to-length ratio as adestroyer even though their speeds and lengths are remarkably different, butbecause their speed-to-length ratio is proportional to these two variables itis possible for the outcome to be the same (or at least very similar).

Speed-to-length ratio = V/√L

Where V is velocity in knots, and L is vessel length in feet.

So, let’s use an example that applies to us swimmers and see how length affectsspeed.

Given: speed-to-length ratio = 1 (this is a typical value for a proper runninghull, and one that also makes sense if the hull in question is your body)

Now, let’s take two swimmers, one 5' tall and one 6' tall, and see how theycompare in the formula:

1 = V/√5, V = 2.23 knots

1 = V/√6, V = 2.44 knots

You can see clearly that as length increases so does velocity.

The Physics

So, we’ve proved mathematically that length effects speed ofa vessel but what’s happening that causes that? This is where itgets interesting. First, let’s take the glamour out of this swimmingthing and say that a swimmer – when compared to a vessel type – would bestmimic a barge as it moves through the water. I’m sorry if that hurtsanybody’s feelings but, obviously, a swimmer doesn’t move fast enough to get onplane, so we can hardly call ourselves a planing vessel. And without a sail or a deep keel the swimmeris not achieving propulsion or stability by those means. No, the swimmer is simply pushing the waterin front of it out of its way – plowing through the water – no matter how goodof a swimmer you think you are. We callthis a displacement vessel, as it displaces the exact volume of water in frontof it that matches its own volume in order to move forward. In fact, it’s not just the equality of volumethat is present here in the motion of the displacement vessel: thewavelength of that volume of water displaced (the wake) actually also equalsthe length of the waterline of the vessel itself. As it moves throughthe water – as optimally as this displacement vessel can – you can see the fwdcrest of the wavelength right at the bow and the aft crest of the wavelengthright at the stern. This boat moves seamlessly displacing the wateras it was designed. It’s just not allthat sexy when you compare it to its planing brethren like speed boats orsomething you might see on Hawaii5-0.

Now, if you could pluck this vessel out of the water andimmediately put one in its place that is exactly like it in every way exceptit is shorter, what would you see? The wavelength displaced by thefirst boat is longer than the length of the boat we just dropped in its place. It’s like a little boat has been placed in the trough of the wake of thelonger one. Remember that the fwd crest of the first boat was exactly atthe bow of that boat, and the aft crest was exactly at the stern. Thisshorter boat is fitting in the trough between the two.

The shorter vessel sits in the trough created by the longer one, with the bow wave clearly providing an uphill bulge that must be overcome.

And we know it moves slower mathematically, becausewe already proved that, but what’s actually happening here is the smaller boat mustpush uphill to gain the fwd crest of the wavelength! And of coursethis causes a reduction in speed. The water simply is not getting out ofthe way of the shorter boat fast enough so it therefore must be moving slower.

Or, from another perspective, if the smaller boat couldmaintain the speed of the larger boat it would have to increase its powermonumentally over the longer boat to overcome the bulge of water at itsbow. To put it into perspective, if thetaller swimmer typically swims his main set of 15 100’s at 1:10/100, and theshorter swimmer typically holds 1:17/100, imagine the increase in perceivedeffort it would take to overcome that speed gap.

Obviously, there are shorter swimmers that are faster thantaller ones, but the physics as described above could only get us thisfar. At this point, it’s up to theswimmer to overcome the physics of their inheritance and apply efficiencies totheir stroke and position, the mechanics of how they apply propulsion via thekick and the catch and pull. This isexactly why we’re taught to swim “tall,” to maximize the glide and lengthenyour hull as you plow through the water in front of you. Keep those arms in front of your head as muchas you can, think about your arms existing in that “forward quadrant”, and turnyourself into the longest barge you possibly can.

You can resent the swimmer in the lane next to you thatstands a foot-and-a-half taller than you with his floppy long arms, gifted ashe may be in physique and stature, or you can be a good little tugboat and dothe work! It’s all in the math!

Da Richter Kid Back in Da House!

2011-11-24T13:31:00.001-05:00

Hello and happy Thanksgiving, faithful followers! (sound of crickets chirping........)

Well, anyway, I'm back after a long hiatus! Thanks for checking in. Waddya think of the new look? It took forever, so I hope you like it.

I hope to put some time into some regular posts again, now that the off-season is upon us. I kinda gotta get over this marathon hump that's in the next couple weeks, but I look forward to posting about new techniques in achieving peak fitness, the occasional scientific application to training, and of course, epic days in a triathlete's addiction to multisport!

In the next 12 months I have some exciting races ahead of me. One of the biggest and most eagerly anticipated for me is the St Croix 70.3 (Half Ironman) in May. As some of you may know, I tackled this race in 2007 as my first Half Ironman and it was an extremely humbling experience. I hope to show up with a few more bullets in my pistol and my machete a bit sharper than that brutal day of torture, tears, and cramps.

Then, in November, I'll be heading to Ironman Florida for the first time. This will be my first crack at covering 140.6 miles in completely flat terrain. I can't wait to see what I can do tucked in aero on the bike for 112 miles rather than the undulating terrain of Coeur d'Alene and Louisville - the only courses I'm familiar with on the Ironman circuit.

So, I appreciate your interest but question your use of your time......as this cat ain't nuttin to purr at! But I'll give 'er a go and do my best to entertain and enlighten as long as you are willing to read! Stay tuned for my next post as I apply a little old school naval architecture to explain mathematically why swimming "tall" equals swimming FAST!

Have a great Turkey Day! We have LOTS to be thankful for!

A Straggler in the Herd

2011-07-31T08:04:00.003-04:00

Nobody likes to play the role of easy prey, but at the Washington Olympic Triathlon yesterday I suppose I was that straggler in the herd that looked like easy pickins. I was having an awful race, and by the time I started the run in the 100-something degree heat my heart rate was through the roof. I couldn't believe I was stopping to walk just a few steps out of T2. I'd run a block or so, and then walk til my heart eased up, then run a little more, and do it all over again. I must have looked a terrible sight as runners constantly were asking me if I was okay, handing me water, shouting something encouraging.

Volunteers are awesome, and working a water station is a difficult task even on a cool day. But one of the water stations was just overwhelmed as runners came from both directions demanding everything the volunteers would throw at them. By the 2nd time I came to this station, they didn't know what to do. The two adults running the station had their hands full, and their kids were splitting their focus between handing out cups of water and perhaps playing with blades of grass.

I asked for some water, took a swig, and downed the rest over my head. It was so cold and refreshing! As I walked by I knew it wasn't enough so I turned around to ask for a second. "Water, please!" "Can I please have some water?" "Water!" "Water!" I finally got a cup, and as I turned around to drink it a girl came running up shouting for water, grasping through the air at imaginary cups offered by imaginary people, and then it happened.......

Her eyes locked on me. As if in slow motion I was lifting this seemingly golden chalice of ice cold glacial water to my lips, and something told her there wasn't another drop in existence. In a half a second she had measured me, assessed I was too weak to fight back, licked her lips, reached her crooked claws out, snatched my cup out of my hand, and poured the entire contents of it down her gullet. As she threw the empty cup down at my feet and ran away, I hollered, "Hey, you b-.....aww, forget it."

I watched her run away as I stood there, shriveling up in the heat next to the crushed paper cup that a few seconds ago had been so precious. Sigh. 4 miles to go.......

Looking Forward to Local Races

2011-07-24T10:10:00.003-04:00

It's been one month since my Ironman, and I've done well to take a break from a lifestyle of training without getting too sedentary. I'm not quite in a rhythm yet where I can feel I can be competitive in the local triathlons but I'm gonna try and ramp myself up into some sort of shape that perhaps will turn in some good late season results. I just signed up for a couple races that are around the corner....

The Washington Olympic Tri is this coming Saturday. I'd love to do well here on home soil, but the reality is that my body probably hasn't bounced back to top form yet after the Ironman. And it wouldn't be realistic to harbor too many hopes come race day based off of the lackadaisical training I've been up to. So, this race will be more of a fitness test that I'll more or less just train through.

One week later is the Goldsboro Sprint, which was my first triathlon ever. I've been trying to win this one for the last 4 years or so and all I ever seem to do is come in as the first loser. Maybe this will be my year.

After these races, I intend to hit the training hard again to be ready for the Kiawah Island marathon in December as well as September's Lake Kristi Triathlon.

On a side note, I've taken up coaching! Anne Fisher linked me up with a 19 year old that's interested in taking triathlon by the horns so I'm officially in coach mode with him. This is really exciting for me as it will be fun to help him achieve some early goals in his up and coming triathlon "career" and I'm really excited to see if coaching is something that suits me.

So, happy training everyone! Stay cool out there! Man, is it miserable hot down here in the South!

What Happens Next?

2011-07-07T11:14:00.001-04:00

Well, it’s been an outstanding post-IM vacation and I can definitely say I’ve let my muscles relax as well as the rules regarding nutrition. In the last two weeks, I’ve allowed myself hot dogs, pizza, beer, ice cream, hamburgers, and fried chicken. For the record, I dove back into the wine – both the crap in glass bottles and the very fancy kind that comes in cardboard – and it didn’t work for me. I believe I’m done with that old habit. I haven’t stepped on a scale since pre-IM and I’m expecting devastating results when I mount that thing again after I get home. My plan is to hit the training hard – perhaps with a little less volume – and get myself in some sort of shape for the late summer races around my home in NC: Washington Oly, Goldsboro Sprint, Lake Kristi, and either the Washington Half Iron or maybe the Outer Banks Marathon in November.

All this down time has given me some wonderful opportunities to gaze at the beautiful mountains and reflect on a great Ironman and ponder when another attempt will be and what else I can do to top this one. As for the first issue, I’ve hardly locked my radar on the next IM but Wales and Brazil are both on my radar at the moment. It would be fun to take this project overseas! And as for take-home improvement ideas, here’s what I’ve come up with so far:

1. Don’t need the EFS Liquid Shot on the marathon. I flung that at the first aid station. A couple Gu Roctanes are sufficient.

2. I’m gonna pick a few brains a bit more and try to learn from others. I’m currently discussing the affects of First Endurance Ultragen as a pre-training fuel with a guy I met in CDA. I’m interested to see what tidbits I can pick up from fellow athletes.

3. I made a big mistake not attacking that bike leg of the IM. I was too focused on the marathon. I’ll need to put a plan together to change my approach to IM.

4. This may be crazy, but I want to give it some thought……would it be beneficial to reduce upper body muscle? Is that even possible? I’m not so sure the meat on the arms is helping me much here.

5. That lack of bike focus wasn’t just during the race. Some of those long Saturday rides really took an awful lot of gumption to get myself going. I’m thinking I’m gonna have to throw a lot more creativity at long IM-training rides. Perhaps, long one-way excursions, a day in the mountains, variable courses, personal primes to shoot for…..anything to spice those workouts up.
6. I liked that I added the Sunday evening recovery ride to my repertoire but I think that workout needs more structure to it. A one hour lollygag may not be all that beneficial.

7. Some of my metabolic affect workouts lacked intensity. I’ll try and beef those up.

8. I learned a lot and really enjoyed my marathon training plan, but the bulk of the mileage was at marathon pace or slightly below. A little more specificity might yield improvements.

9. Most of those training sessions this season felt great. And that’s good, but I don’t think I put myself in the hurt locker near enough. I need to find ways to be crueler to myself and deepen the pain threshold.

10. It’s time to get a power meter for the bike. Hopefully by Christmas.

11. Gotta get back to work on the hydration setup on the bike. I went old school at this IM with the Profile aero bottle up front and a standard down tube bottle, but there’s got to be a way to get the horizontally mounted bottle on the aero bars. In fact, an overall look at bike setup improvements is in order. Anything short of getting a Trek Speed Concept should be considered I’m thinking.

12. I really got into using my 2XU compression socks in the latter weeks of training for IM, and I used them in the marathon as well. I’d like to learn more about this technology, which socks work the best, how much compression is optimal, and whether the socks are better than the sleeves. I have plenty of theories on all this but I need more experience.

13. Never tried Red Bull in a race. Does it really boost you up that much?

14. I’m thinking about getting my USAT coaching license. I don’t know how that will help, and I don’t know if anybody would care to be coached by someone like me. Just a thought.

For now, that’s all the low hanging fruit I’ve managed to pick off the opportunity tree. I’m certainly open to suggestions. Maybe you’ve followed my training or know me well enough to see something I’m doing wrong or could improve on. I would absolutely LOVE to hear it if you have any suggestions. Thanks for reading!

Ironman Coeur d'Alene 2011

2011-06-30T00:22:00.000-04:00

What the hell happened?! Not that I had a horrible race and I really do have a lot to look back on and remember as a great day, but when things went wrong in the race……and they did……..I can’t seem to figure out what the hell happened.

Everything was set up perfectly and I had my head in the game leading up to the race. On the flight into Spokane, which was full of Ironmen and women, I listened in on a conversation between two competitors – one of which I figured might be in my age group. I was already competing and figured in my own little way that I had beat him, as he couldn’t stop talking about himself and his previous performances whereas I kept to myself. His conversation was so predictable – senseless banter that everybody in the sport already knows (“You have to have patience to race Ironman.”) to fill the gaps between jabs of bragging about his palmares (“I once came within 2 minutes of qualifying for Kona. But I’m just doing this one for fun.”).

Everything was firing me up for this race. There were no holes that I could pinpoint in my lead up to this day – training was spot on, the trip over was a breeze, there was nothing to stress about. I was extremely eager to get this race underway, and in hindsight I think mentally I was peaking a couple days prior to the race. The anticipation was killing me. I knew a 10 hour Ironman would be tough and that I was a long shot to make it happen, but there was no reason I couldn’t do it and I fully intended to charge my way through it. In my head, I pictured a 1:07 swim, a 4 minute T1, a 5:15 bike split or better, a 2 minute T2, and something around a 3:30 marathon depending on how all that other stuff actually went prior to the footrace and how much gumption I had left. I hadn’t ruled out a 3:15 marathon – though it was a foolishly aggressive thought – and at the other end of the spectrum, perhaps a 3:40 would be all I could muster. But I DID expect the questionables to be on the run, not the bike! I’ve always had a solid bike. To me 112 miles in the hills of Idaho should have been just about a formality.

But I’ll get to the actual race in a second. Friday morning I wanted to hook up with some Slowtwitchers (www.slowtwitch.com forum denizens) for a one hour ride on the tougher part of the bike course. JC Ramirez, a Seattle pro of Mexican descent, had organized this ride and I thought a little scouting of the course coupled with some camaraderie would be a fun start to the day. I enjoyed picking his brain and he seemed to be a genuine nice guy in the few minutes I rode with him. Although I had raced here before in 2008, and had ridden the course on the Computrainer tons of times, this glimpse of the hills was a reality check for this eastern Carolina flatlander. But I wasn’t the least bit intimidated by them. If anything, I gained confidence from the excursion as the hills felt way easier than they did on the Computrainer. I didn’t even notice that, even on the 11% grade sustained climbs, I couldn’t shift into my largest rear cog – a 25 toother. I had decided not to bring my 12-27 since the last time I used it the 26 tooth cog wasn’t working. I figured 25 would be just fine, but back around the tobacco fields of Greenville I had no way of knowing that my derailleur couldn’t muster the strength to throw the chain up that high under heavy strain.

Dr Bob and I found each other at the Ironman Expo the day before the race. We were pumped!

The only other bit of race course testing I needed to figure out was the frigid water of Lake Coeur d’Alene (and I’m not spelling that anymore, so heretofore I’ll go with CDA). Let me step back for a second and tell you that any fool could look at the water and tell there was nothing inviting about it whatsoever. Weather had been cold and if air temps had reached 65 yet you wouldn’t have guessed it. Wind was also really gusty, and the water was horribly choppy looking. Rumor was that the water was 56 degrees. Any tough guy can jump in that kind of water in the afternoon with no agenda, swim around and wave at you in all their manliness for a few minutes, and then strut out onto the beach as if it didn’t bother them, but it’s a totally different story when you know you HAVE to get in and you HAVE to swim for an hour or more and you HAVE to do this at 7 am when the air temp hasn’t even hit 50 yet. I’d argue that it takes quite a bit of internal psyching up to make you do it. Hell, none of my triathlon buddies back home wanted any part of it and they were saying so in 95 degree weather when a plunge in cold water actually mighta felt pretty darned good! So, I’d be lying if I said there was nothing to it – my head was trying to wrap around the notion of intentionally freezing myself as if it were……well, again…..a bit of a formality.

So, Saturday late morning, after dropping off my bike and transition bags at the race site, I took a plunge in the lake. I used my old Q Roo Superfull wetsuit so my Blue Seventy wetsuit wouldn’t be wet on race day. My sister, Ginger, and wife, Angie, were there with me and this was perhaps my first glimpse of the unselfish pampering that they and the rest of the family so generously shared with me.

I guess the beach at Coeur d'Alene isn't exactly all it's cracked up to be.

And I’m gonna go off again on a tangent here because it’s my report and I want to. This trip to CDA was an idea hatched over 1.5 years ago. I’m here for my amazing parents, who live about 400 miles south, but had invited my 3 sisters and I (and families) to share their 50th anniversary up here in a majestic cabin on Hayden Lake just north of CDA. We don’t get together often as you can imagine with one sister in Boise, one in Tucson, one in freakin’ Jerusalem, and Angie and I in NC. So, this is a big deal on the Richter scale. It didn’t go unnoticed in my noggin that we’d be at an Ironman venue during this trip, but it didn’t seem right to suggest doing it on my parent’s anniversary. But when mom brought the idea up and said the family would love to cheer me on, I didn’t hesitate to sign up. It was kind of like a “Well, okay, I’ll do it but only for you! Snicker, snicker!” kind of reaction. Mom had been to both of my previous Ironmans, and dad and sister Cindy had been here for the first IMCDA I did in 2008. But Ginger, who is arguably my biggest fan, was chomping at the bit to be part of this. And sister Tammy…….well, I think the idea was a bit foreign to her but she was willing to go along with it.

My wonderful wife, Angie, and I on the Lake Coeur d'Alene waterfront.

So Angie and Ginger snapped pictures of me putting on my wetsuit as if they thought it was some kind of space suit I was going to use to blast off into space and never be seen again. Maybe they just knew how cold that water was and thought there really was a chance I wouldn’t come back out. But they were so willing to hold anything I needed them to, or wait on me when they were starving to death….just lots of unselfish stuff in stark contrast to the very clear reality that everything an Ironman does in prep for his race is all about himself and so embarrassingly selfish. And if you know Angie at all, this is as yadda-yadda-yadda-ish as it gets since I can’t even pop a zit without her pouncing on me from across the room thumbs first to burst the sucker before I even attempt it. But Ginger was a wonderful surprise to my zit-popping team (so to speak).

My oldest sister, Ginger, and I chill for lunch the day before the race.

Anyway, I waded in the water nice and slow to acclimate. A female competitor was getting ready to do the same and asked if she could join me. This was her first IM and she bashfully asked me for swim tips. I gave her some pretty stereotypical advice of some sort (starting with, “If I were you I would pee right now in that wetsuit. And back up a bit because that’s what I’m doing right now.”), feeling like I was no authority to do so. As we adjusted to the freezing water, the discussion drifted to how to handle the mob scene of swimmers that would be beating up on us during the swim. That’s when she lifted her arm and showed me that it was in a Velcro cast of some sort as she had taken a spill on the bike course the day before and fractured her wrist. She was concerned about somebody hitting it in the swim. I thought she was a lot tougher than me and was very humbled. Anyway, I wished her luck and started swimming. Nothing to it really. It was cold, but expectedly so. I was ready for the race day swim.

It doesn't look THAT cold! Let's go for a dip!

Up through this I had been totally in the zone for this race. I think I even told my good friend and training buddy, Frank Fisher, that I was here to crush dreams. Frank had got into Kona through the lottery and I desperately wanted to go with him. All I had to do was crush IMCDA, and there was no reason why I wouldn’t I thought. Weather was shaping up to be in the 70’s, water temps around 58, and 5-6 mph winds. If I’m guessing, I think all those numbers were low except water temp. Way low.

Julie Dibens, who won the women's race, has a sweet Trek Speed Concept.

But something started happening the night before the race. It’s no big deal, just your standard nerves that you would expect before a race that you had put 4 months of heart and soul into. I talked to a few friends back home, which calmed me down a little. Frank was on fire with some supportive and deep words of encouragement via text. Everyone in my family was attentive to my race needs – my sister, Cindy, wouldn’t let me clean my dinner plate. They all just wanted me to have my time to myself the way I needed to and deal with the butterflies in my stomach. I distinctly had my radar locked on that marathon plan. Marathons are always tough for me to break down and I had pegged this one as a half marathon followed by a series of short distances to get me to the finish. I went to bed around 8 I think and tried not to think about the cold water. My nerves were trying to force me to worry about something.

I woke up at 3 am and began prepping for the race. I got all my nutrition in without any feeling of throwing it all up. Check. I had some coffee and my friend, CC’s, old adage that “success on race day begins with success in the bathroom” was working like clockwork. Check. I began to psych myself up for the race. No check. “What’s going on? Okay, lock in on that marathon plan. Half mary the start, break the rest of the distance down.” Nothing. I couldn’t break the run down in my head for some reason and was fearing that I’d come out of T2 with nothing in my head but the daunting idea that I had to run 26.2 miles yet wouldn’t be willing. I just rolled on with the prep and getting dressed and stuff, and tried to tap into my zone in my head whenever I could. The run plan was key to me and not because I lacked awareness of the other two events in the race, but I just knew the focus needed to be on the marathon where all the variables were as well as the bulk of the suffering.

Our cabin had these lovely steps to deal with race morning and post Ironman festivities....

I left for the race with my mom, sisters Cindy and Ginger, and Angie and they were so good to be on time. They’re always punctual, but I don’t know if Angie reinforced this knowing that something as small as making me leave later than I anticipate for a race is enough to throw me into a stupid downward spiral. They carried stuff with me to transition, where I got my race numbers put on and then went to make last minute preparations to the bike.

Sisters Ginger and Cindy keeping me calm before the swim start.

I had brought an old pump with me that I had written on the cylinder, “use me then pass me on.” I pumped the tires up and then gave it away. I went through the rest of the preparation and then found a portapotty to lighten the load one last time. I rechecked my head to see if I was in the zone I had been struggling with getting into. No go. Oh well, to hell with it. Let’s go do this thing and you’ll figure it out later, I thought. I found the girls and hung out at the beach waiting for the start to come. They were having a blast, but I was a ball of nerves.

Heck no, I'm not nervous! Geez, I hate race mornings!

After the pros started, I began the process of putting on the wetsuit. Once done, I hopped in the long line of participants to make my way to the entrance to the beach and the timing mat we had to walk across to activate our timing chips on our ankles. I immediately made for the water to acclimate and was really amazed to see how many people seemed to be foregoing this process. It’s no wonder there is always a person or two that hits the water when the gun goes off simply to turn around and quit because the water takes their breath away. There were lifeguards on kayaks about waist deep paddling back and forth to prevent us from swimming around. I suppose I can see how they didn’t want to get into a cat herding situation with us, but it didn’t offer us much room to try to get some strokes in. I swam parallel to them a bit to acclimate and then got out of the water for the National Anthem, which I could barely hear. Mike Reilly, the voice of Ironman, was on the mike charging up the crowd but I couldn’t hear him either. When the gun went off, I didn’t hear that either. I just saw a wave of motion and dove in after them.

It's a small beach that the race starts on, so we're kinda packed in there like sardines.

I had started about 4 people back and was way right of the pack. Even though I tend to veer to the right when I swim I thought this was the best idea as I breathe to the left, and wanted to use that to see the pack as I swam and gauge my line off of the other swimmers as I breathed. In 2008, I got the shit beat out of me on this swim. 2800 other people all clambering for the same space is no picnic.

It's always amazing to me that we think this is normal activity to just jump in a lake with 2800 people and flail around for an hour or more....

But I expected my swim had improved over the years to put me slightly ahead of the brutal part of the pack. And it seemed to be working. I had just enough room all around me. I was pacing just fine and felt good in the water. I later heard those that swim in the 1:10 to 1:20 pack tended to get beat up the most, and I was ahead of that bunch. By the time I got to the first turn, I began to drift in tight against the buoy, readying myself for the slaughterfest that tends to happen as everyone vies for the tight space around the buoy. It never came – it was like I had a little safety bubble around me. But why was the lake swelling all around me?! Holy smokes, did a barge just go by? I was in some washing machine rollers of some sort between the two turn buoys and I can’t imagine what caused it, but it cleared up once I hit the straight away back to the beach.

That's a lot of folks getting ready to freeze to death together!

As soon as I got where I could stand up, my right calf locked up. Man, I never get that! What was that all about, I thought, as I ran under the swim finish arch and turned left to start my second lap. Oh geez, that better not come back to haunt me later in the race! I put it behind me and instead filled my head with the thought, “Did Mike Reilly just say 31 minutes back there?” I couldn’t believe that was right, because if it was I was swimming better than I expected of myself. I put the thought away for fear I’d learn otherwise after this next lap and just concentrated on swimming smooth. But I wasn’t. I kept veering to the right and rather than swimming a beeline against the buoys I was kinda arcing my way from one to the other. It was a little frustrating but I have to admit kinda typical of me. The washing machine was still out there at the turn buoys. Man, what is that coming from?! Then, when I hit the straight away back to the beach again, both legs locked up – quads and calves – and I stopped in my tracks and bobbed like a helpless cork. Massive Charlie horses. I panicked for a second, then willed myself to kick like crazy to see if that would free my muscles and somehow it did. But what was going on? Surely this was going to come back and haunt me later on and I’ve never been in this situation.

Swim Time: 1:05:57

I came out of the water, got my wetsuit yanked off by the strippers, grabbed my T2 bag and headed into the men’s tent. My hands were shaking from the cold and my teeth were chattering, but I skipped the arm warmers and the gloves I had packed in the bag. I had packed those items as an “on-the-spot-decision” based off of feel and they just didn’t make the cut. I fiddled with my bike shoes, and the heel of the right one flipped over on itself and I messed with it for what seemed like minutes as I muttered curses under my breath. The guy that sat next to me was very vocal about not being able to work his hands. He called for a volunteer to get him geared up. I think I said something like, “I hear ya brotha” and then took off. As I ran I shoved my coin purse of salt tablets, Powerbar chews, and Gu Roctanes in my jersey pocket and clipped my race belt around myself. No issues with grabbing the bike and taking off, though I did do a bit of a slip on the pavement in my bike shoes. Sorry, folks, I didn’t go down though in front of the crowd.

T1 Time: 4:47

Leaving on the bike, I caught a quick glimpse of Ginger and some of the other family in Tricred Red but I didn’t see who else was there. My teeth were chattering, my arms were cold, my feet had no feeling, but I knew all that would pass. I began banking some time – not really going too hard, but simply taking advantage of the first 20 miles of flat(ish) roads before the hilly section began.

But I didn’t feel……….right. There was no fire, no voice in my head smack talking, nothing. I was averaging over 22 mph, which was good but all the while I was struggling to psych myself up. Somewhere around here a guy who could have been in my age group passed me wearing all pink. I didn’t like that, petty as it is. But he looked kinda big and I thought maybe he was going out too hard and I’d reel him in when I got my head screwed on right later. Coming back into town I hit the hot corner and just knew my dad would be watching from there – the same place he was in 2008. I caught a glimpse of him and waved and nearly ran up on the back of another competitor in the hot corner. That was close!

Hitting the hills, I became aware that that 25 tooth cog – my climbing gear – had opted out of the race. Whatever. Don’t need it. I assessed where I was in the hilly section, as I had taught myself to expect what I was personally calling the “Seven Sisters” – from the Computrainer rides it looked like there were 7 hills in a row in this section. But once through it I only recalled 3. So I felt good thinking there were fewer big hills than I prepared for.

This was right near the cabin we were staying at for the week on Hayden Lake. Beautiful place for a ride.

Coming to the turnaround, there was an old guy that had set up a collection of antique bikes for display and if I hadn’t been trying to have my best race ever perhaps I’d have stopped, because they were marvelous. He had a couple of pristine big wheel bikes even. Sorry I had no way to get a picture of this. And somewhere on the course a lady was holding a clever sign that said, “Worst parade ever.” Lots of other signage, but this is all that was worth mentioning.

I hit the timing mat at the turnaround and saw my average was 21.4 mph (as far as I recall – those of you keeping up with me on the athlete tracker might have seen a slightly different number). I was fine with that. This would be a 5:15 bike split if I kept it up. This contributed to a short burst of gumption, and for a while there I thought I was out of my slump as I passed folks that had dropped me miles ago. Every now and then I stood up to stretch the legs and assess the cramping thing. Those cramps were there, looming, and I felt the threat of them popping into action the moment I started the run. They were not going away.

Then the gumption was gone, just as quickly as it had come. I came into town knowing I needed to hit the first lap in something like 2:40 to feel like I was going according to plan. I was way off. Maybe around 2:50. Now the brain began to do all kinds of horrible, ugly things. I found myself wishing for a flat tire or a busted chain so I could quit without blaming myself. I couldn’t quit in front of my family, but I kept struggling with how I could and somehow manage to live with it. I went back and forth between conceding to just finish the race in some sort of sorry time and telling myself that I could make up the deficit and get back in this thing. That latter idea just wasn’t coming into fruition on the bike though. The second time I came back into town I got passed by a chick. Salt on the wound, that’s for sure. She was hammering though! I totally envied her as she vanished up the road. Then I saw Angie, Ginger, and the crew and somehow my niece, Heather, was about 10 feet above the ground wearing a Tricredible uniform! She looked great as she threw her hands in the air cheering me on!

Once back in the hills, I heard a jet flying awfully low and craned my neck around to see what was going on. Some Navy/Marine cowboy was twisting his way through the mountains in his F/A-18 Hornet and I presumed he was showing off for a buddy maybe he knew in the race. Passing a dude on a hill, I said, “Somebody’s having a LOT more fun than we are!”

On a long straight away between two hills I saw Dr Bob Morrison coming the other way on his first lap. Dr Bob is 73 years old, the oldest competitor in the race, and a friend and inspiration from Greenville. He was more concerned about making the swim cutoff than the other two legs I expected, so I was elated to see he still had a horse in this race and perhaps was on course to get his own slot to Kona.

Coming to a downhill turn on the course, I took my second rolling pee. I can’t pedal and pee, so the bike slowed down considerably as I stood on the pedals. The spectators here were hollering, “It’s okay, just keep pedaling! You can do it!” They couldn’t see the trickle running down my leg into my shoe – they thought I was giving up! Damn, I’m not that bad off, I thought, and got back to pedaling as soon as I could. Once back in town, I couldn’t wait to get off the bike.

Bike Time: 5:33:25 (It hurts me something fierce to look at that number.)

T2 was uneventful enough. A volunteer helped me gear up, and kinda chuckled at me as I struggled to put my “Sissy Socks” on. These were also supposed to be an “on-the-spot-decision” but the calf cramps from before dictated there would be no question that I would use the compression socks. Olbas inhaler, salt tablets, Gu Roctanes in the jersey pocket, hat on, switch the glasses, a quick pee in the trough and off I went.

T2 Time: 3:25

My legs felt great! But some quick math told me I needed a 3:13 marathon to nail that 10 hour mark. Yeah, right. Like that’s gonna happen! I found Angie and crew in the start of the run and stopped to hug her and I told her, “Everything is going wrong. I’m just gonna try to enjoy the rest of this.” As expected, she lovingly pushed at me and said, “Just GO!!!” She HATES it when I talk negative in a race!!!! She is such a great motivation to me.

This is right after hugging Angie and telling her it wasn't going as planned, as she pushes me away to get back to running...

So, I did. I ran. I ran that first mile in 7:13 in fact. And it felt great! I knew it was too fast, but it felt awesome. I told myself to slow down but still ticked the next mile off in 7:15. After that I kinda lost track of where the mile markers were. But I had gotten back in that zone knowing Kona was pretty much out, but I could at least run this thing like I owned it. I thought about my buddy Carl Bonner, who would definitely let me know what a wussy I was if I gave up or resolved to “enjoy” any part of the race instead of giving it my all. He was right. You don’t work that hard to get here and then lollygag your way through an Ironman. You push until you suffer, and then you push a little more. So I found my gumption to get back into the plan of running the first half of this thing as if it were a half marathon, and then break the rest of it down as I needed to in order to get through to the finish. With no intention of doing so, I took a cup of Coke that was offered at one of the first feed stations. My preference is to hold off on this shot of caffeine until a meltdown, so as not to dilute its affects early in the race. I chased it down with water because of its diuretic affects and this became standard procedure at every feed station. I saw Dr Bob go by on the bike again and figured all was well on his Ironman assault.

Trucking along!

Somewhere in here a mountain bike came alongside me and I knew it was a top pro on his second lap. I can’t remember if he was in second or third, but he took FOREVER to pass me. I thought, “Dude, I’m only doing 7:15 at best, just GO!!!!” As he eased by me, I got to thinking maybe this really was a little too fast still and tried to slow down a tad more.

I got to the big hill before the turnaround and trudged up it and down the other side. I was passing LOADS of guys, but I couldn’t count a whole lot of 40-44 year old males. Seemed to me that most of them were 30-something. Coming back into town towards the turnaround, I came up on Angie and company and she yelled that I needed to keep going and that I was in 38th place in my age group. I shook my head at her in disbelief that she still thought I had a shot, but I kept motoring. I finished the first lap a couple minutes shy of 1:45.

In hindsight, I felt pretty good on the run. Musta been the Sissy Sox.

Now, I needed to start breaking this thing down because I was on the verge of doing so myself. So, I started with the idea of just getting to the point where the course gets out of town. I’d come up with a new milestone once there. But the first feed station I hit on lap 2 I altered the plan and walked through, taking sponges, Powerbar Perform, Coke, and water. I also started stuffing ice cubes down my shorts. It was fairly hot out there, and although I was managing well I was acutely aware that a meltdown was no more than one negative thought from happening. So, I decided to run to each feed station and walk through them taking in all I could.

Once out of town, I set a goal of reaching the weird industrial looking hotel on the hill, then making it to the base of the big hill at the turnaround. I was still blowing by tons of folks. Volunteers were shouting encouragement, calling me by name since it was on the race bib. But most of what I heard was along the lines of, “Go, Mr. Tricredible,” or “Nice jersey!” I wanted to thank every word of encouragement but was too exhausted to say so to all but a few of them. On the way to that last hill I came upon a little girl – maybe 7 years old – who had a microphone and was cheering on competitors something fierce. “You’re having a bodacious run! And if you don’t know what ‘bodacious’ means……..” she trailed off, probably not sure how she was going to finish that sentence. But I gave her a high five and told her I love her and her mom (I’m guessing) made one of those sounds women make when some sorry sap says something cheesy and romantic in a movie. At the base of the hill, it was a long line of folks walking up. I kept running thinking they were all being a bunch of wussies, but I’d been there before myself. Somewhere around here was the Vaseline guy from my race in 2008 (see that race report for the story). Pink guy came running down the hill at this moment, by the way. Boy was I wrong about him! I wanted to catch him but there wouldn’t be enough mileage to do so. I hit the turnaround at mile 20, popped my last salt tablets, and told myself to get up and over this hill and be done with the darned thing, and set my mind on the finish. With 3 miles to go, I took in my last bit of fluids knowing nothing was going to help me get to the finish at this point but what was already inside me.

The finishing straight-away was even more impressive than the last time I did this race. Sherman Avenue is a pretty big road through town, lined with lots of shops and restaurants, and they had it completely blocked off with barricades. It was like being in the Tour de France with massive crowds lining the barricades and you could see all the way down through the finish line, about a half mile away. Being downhill and your last few steps of the race, you can’t help but pick it up a little bit through this section. There was a guy a ways in front of me that I wasn’t going to catch, and I couldn’t see anyone coming from behind. I enjoyed my last few steps of the run, and coming into the finish chute I wasn’t going to do the high five thing with the spectators but I kinda veered to the left against the barricades unintentionally out of sheer exhaustion, and their reaction was to stick out their hands for a high-five. So, I obliged a few and then recentered myself in the chute. I crossed the finish line in 10:22:38 with a 3:35:06 marathon, a new PR for Ironman by almost 20 minutes and behind my goal by about the same margin.

I had the finishing chute to myself this year and soaked it up pretty good.

I had started the marathon 42nd in my age group and ran myself up to 26th place, and those weird cramps never were a factor. I threw my hands in the air to thank God for getting me through this, and let the volunteers guide me through the standard finishing procedure of handing me a hat and a shirt, ask me some typical questions to see if I was coherent, take my chip and get the obligatory finish photo with the IM backdrop. Angie was right there against the barricades and I went straight to her, buried my face in her shoulder, thanked her, shed a tear, and crumpled a bit. She was so proud of me and I was too. I didn’t do anything great really, and I certainly didn’t do what I had set out to do, but I sure as hell didn’t quit. I finished in 130th place out of 2800, and 26th in my age group out of 497 that started (only 376 finished).

It sure does feel good to be done!

After a quick couple pieces of pizza and some pictures with the family, I found out Dr. Bob didn’t make the bike cutoff and wasn’t allowed to finish his race. I hated it for him and was so excited to get to see him finish and now wouldn’t be able to. To be honest, I don’t know how I would have mustered the energy to do so, but there was no question that was where I intended to be. I happened on him in transition while getting my bike and we talked about the day for a little bit, and then Angie said, “Hey, there’s Craig Alexander,” and pointed to the winner of the race and 2 time World Champion getting his race bags. The three of us walked over to him and I said, “Craig, I know you’re tired and all but can we get our picture taken with you?” He was super nice and immediately asked how my race went, to which I said, “Not too good. I was trying to beat you.” We all chatted a bit. I wish I had offered him a spot on the Tricredibles team just to see how politely he would turn me down.

I got my picture taken with Craig Alexander, 2011 IM CDA winner and 2-time Kona champ!!

Sometime during the race, my mom managed to get interviewed by the local news. She aired at 11 pm that night and was quoted as saying, “I don’t know why anyone would want to do an Ironman!!!!” They showed my family and even had some footage of me biking by. My family had a great time at this thing, and Tammy thought the whole thing was a blast which floored me! It helps that CDA is a great place to watch a race, but as glad as I was that their day wasn’t totally miserable I figured we better get home and get this thing behind us so it wouldn’t be all about me anymore.

Mom getting interviewed by local news during the bike portion of the race. That's my niece, Heather, on the left playing with her hair. You can just make out that she had my race numbers written on her legs and arms in support!

I don’t know what happens next. The Kona monkey remains on my back and I don’t know if I’ll ever shrug that sucker off. The reality is that even if I had nailed a 9:59:59 Ironman I still wouldn’t have landed a slot. There were only 9 for the 497 dudes in my age group. 8 were swallowed up leaving one to roll down, and it was taken by the first name called out. He finished the race in 9:56:13. I’m not sure if missing it by 4 minutes would have been easier to swallow than missing it by 26. Of all the competitors that went under 10 hours, there were more in my age group than any other. Man, these guys are tough and I gotta say it’s humbling, humiliating, annoying and invigorating all at the same time.

My journey to get ready for this Ironman was as long and arduous as I may be capable of. We’ll see. I’m not signing up for another IM any time soon, but the fire is gonna still be there. At any rate, thanks for following this journey with me. I’ve enjoyed writing this blog, and my intention was to have it die out right after the chance of going to Kona did or take you on the journey to the lava fields with me.

My wonderful family at Ironman Coeur d'Alene! From left: Mom, Cindy, Tammy, Dad, me, and Ginger.

All I know is I’m on vacation with a great family and the last thing I want to think about is triathlon. So, hang in there! I hope I was able to share something you can use, whether Ironman is on your radar or not. If it is, pay attention to that little blip in the corner. It may be me coming around for another crack at this thing!

Here's my video of finishing Ironman Coeur d'Alene 2011!!!!!!

Final Exam Week

2011-06-19T10:00:00.000-04:00

Well, I feel like I've done my homework on this one:

Bike: 2968 mi

Run: 795 mi

Swim: 119 mi

Total Hours of Swim, Bike, Run: 360

Ab Ripper X: 69 times, sometimes twice, so the equivalent of over 20,000 sit-ups

Weight Lost:12.9 lbs

Domestic Arguments Related to Training: 1

Toenail Casualties: 2 bruised, 2 fatalities

Injuries: 0

If you were to put all that swimming, biking and running together that would be 26 Ironmans, with still enough extra running mileage for 4 more marathons and 23 more 2.4 mile swims. That’s about the equivalent of an Ironman every weekend so far for 2011.

Without a doubt, this season has been the hardest I’ve ever trained for a race. Foregoing wine and beer was one of the hardest sacrifices, and I can’t wait to pop open a cool one after the race. Eating right has been tough as well, and I remember a night when Angie just couldn’t muster up the energy to cook and brought home Orange Shrimp from the Chimanese joint. I wanted it, but just couldn’t bring myself to eat it. I shoved a small mozzarella pesto pizza in the oven instead and went to bed hungry.

I’ve kept an aerial photo of Kona on race day on my bathroom mirror and looked at it at least once a day to say, “I don’t know if I’m coming, but I did everything I could today to get there.” My work computer has a countdown in the corner of the desktop telling me how many weeks I have left to IMCDA. This thing has been on my mind every day throughout the training season, which I claim to officially have begun on March 1, but it really was in the making months beforehand.

And I’ve had to hear the words at work that I should put as much effort and passion into my job as I put into training. (I think I was supposed to take that as some sort of message to step it up, but instead I immediately thought something along the lines of, “Great! My training must be right on target if even the president is noticing this is all I do!”)

So, with just one week to go, I have to say that I have no idea how race day will go but I’ve done all I can. If the Kona World Champs slot doesn’t happen……well, I haven’t prepared myself too well for the answer to “what next?”……and I honestly haven’t pumped myself up into thinking I’ve got a good shot at this…….but that might be a tough pill to swallow given the effort I’ve given this. But if the stars just don’t align, I hope I can find pride in just knowing I gave all I had and accomplished some pretty cool things in the process (like a PR half iron – even though the swim didn’t happen, giving up the sauce for 4 months, or getting down to a level of fitness I’ve never seen myself at before).

Thanks for following this journey with me all these months and be sure to track me on the Athlete Tracker on www.ironman.com. If you just want to know if I’m surviving the day, put my last name in and it will show you the last timing mat I’ve crossed. If you want to see if that Kona slot has my name on it, track males 40-44 and it should show you what place I’m in throughout the day. I figure I need to come in no higher than 9^th to be assured a spot, - 10th might earn a roll-down. That’s out of 497. Ugh. Other than that, please send me all the good energy you can on race day! There will be suffering! Let’s get this fun over with!!!!!!

Race Day Nutrition

2011-06-12T06:18:00.000-04:00

If I remember right, my heart rate monitor told me I burned around 10,000 calories the last time I did Ironman Coeur d’Alene in 2008. You can’t take that much in during the race – a calorie deficit is inevitable. But you have to dial in your race day nutrition as best you can so you don’t run out of energy out there on the course. With nearly zero science behind this, but a pretty good amount of trial and error and experimentation, here’s what I’ve arrived at as my race day nutrition for Ironman Coeur d’Alene 2011:

After a couple of web searches it seems the general belief is that one can consume an average of 250 calories per hour during endurance racing, with the high being around 400 calories per hour. It’s much easier to consume these calories while cycling than running (of course, you can’t at all while you swim). That said, it looks like I have about 480 calories per hour planned on the bike for this race. Now, I should clarify that the chart above is what I am making available to myself for the race, not necessarily everything that I will consume. I figure I’ll probably actually ingest only about 80% of this, so on the bike it looks more like 385 calories/hr and on the run more like 230 calories/hr. I’ll respond to this post-race to share how it all "went down."

Saturdays Hurt Something Fierce.....

2011-06-04T18:09:00.000-04:00

Last long brick...........that just happened. I set out at 8 am this morning for a 120 miler followed by a pansy ass 6 mile run. I'd been dreading it all week......cuz I've had it! I'm done with long rides. I'm done with going to the boring ass Walmart parking lot in Zebulon and torturing myself over the same hills, out and back, for 100+ miles all by myself. I'm done with this freakin' heat. I'm done with singing "This is gonna good be a good life" (Onerepublic) over and over again, or "Take me, t-t-take me, fill me with your love juice, blah blah blah blah blah blah." I don't know the words. The beat kept me going though.

So, I did this one from the house - to get it over with quicker, to make it flat and fast, to see what I could do without the hills. Last week's 6 hr ride was in the mountains, and I didn't see a flat section anywhere anyway. It was just time to hammer out here amongst the wheat fields and houses with Christmas lights still on them.

Phillip Rowan met me at mile 7. He didn't like it when I showed up with the aero helmet on spitting that this wasn't going to be a pleasure cruise and I meant to hammer. "Well, you should already have confidence after the half iron you did the other week!" he said. I joked that I wasn't going for confidence.......I was going for arrogance. (that's another story) I gave him a chance to pee, cuz I wasn't planning on stopping for that, and we rolled west.

It wasn't fun. At all. I willed myself not to be social. I don't know what Phillip was thinking about back there to pass the time. "This is gonna be a good life......" kept rolling in my head, and some '80's song I can't remember.

We were on some horribly boring roads. I had chosen highways over country roads so we'd have the right of way and fewer possibilities of hitting stop lights or signs. I had no intention of letting anything disrupt the momentum. Traffic was a constant. Boredom was even moreso.

I think it was around mile 40 that Phillip turned around. We had just spent 5 miles on a country road that was chip-sealed and covered in sand. It was the kinda road that makes you wonder why you're out there at all. It got a lot lonelier after that. I had no idea where I was, but I was heading west still.

At mile 60 I turned around. Average pace was 22.0 mph. I stopped at a gas station for fluids and let the legs take a mile or so to wake back up. At this point, I wanted to drive the pace up as far as I could all the way home. So I turtled the neck to soak up every advantage the aero helmet was giving me and I pressed the pace. 22.1.........22.2.......back to 22.1........wtf?........back to 22.2.........22.3........wait a minute. I just passed 100 miles at 4:29! This ain't the race! I'm dying out here, man. Reassess. Okay, nail 112 miles and you can ease up the last 8. Those next 12 hurt. 6 days out of the week and the thought that I have a chance at a Kona slot hits me several times all day long. But every Saturday, doing these long bricks, I hurt. I don't wanna. I want my mommy. I want to be in that redneck pool I just passed. I want a beer...and a whole lotta wine. I want my life back.

I hit 112 miles just before the clock hit 5 hours. Cooked and dried up, I set to slackin'....but called it a "cool down." I didn't see a pothole, nailed it, and both hands came off the aero bars and chest planted onto the arm pads. I don't know how I saved it. God intervened, I suppose. A couple visions of a broken collarbone, and I was over it. And I was out of water too, as well as any food.....which is a kind word for gel. I might have ingested more calories over the last 4 months from gel and liquids than from real food. If I started a gel brand I would call it Turboslop.

Once home, I needed to regroup before the molehill of a 6 mile run that had now become Mt. Suck It. Angie offered to load me up on recovery drink (it wasn't time), ice, and I'm-not-sure-what-else-cuz-I-was-out-of-it. She was trimming hedges in the heat - her face beat red. I was playing on my bike. I wanted to trim hedges. Neighbor dude was helping her, asking me if I was insane.

I drank a Diet Pepsi, an Ironman Perform, a bottle of water. I grabbed a glob of grapes and stripped to nothing. I got in a cold shower to wake me up. I took a dump. It had been turtling on me since around mile 80. Shorts on, shoes on, flask of ice water.....let's roll.

7:30 the first mile. Flask is leaking. Cheap piece of crap. 8:00 minutes the second mile. Bummed a water refill from a fireman cleaning his driveway. Crap. I didn't stop my watch. Now I gotta make up that time. No runs allowed over 7:30 pace and now I'm 2 minutes over. Next mile 7:00 pace. Next mile I dunno. I forgot where the marker is. Next one and what little math the brain is capable of at this point says a 6:50 will do it. Bam.....I'm home in 45:00.05. Nailed it. And cooked. Whathehayelwuzzat?!?!

Angie dropped me in the ice bath, loaded me up on Ultragen, and I cleaned off. I went to tell her I was hitting the sack and she passes me a plate o' pasta and a beautiful roast beast sandwich that woulda cost $14.95 at some posh bistro. Head on the pillow singin' "this has gotta be the good life.........."

Solving the Kona Qualifying Mystery

2011-06-03T17:55:00.000-04:00

So, 4 weeks to go. And after this weekend a big sigh of relief will be certain, once I’ve licked this last big Saturday brick workout (120 mi bike/6 mi run) and my final long run of 20 miles on Sunday.

I wanted to spend a moment to explain how this Ironman World Championships qualifying thing is supposed to work. The WTC, which is the governing body of Ironman brand races, doesn’t make it easy to make sense of the whole thing. To qualify for the World Championship event in Kona, Hawaii in October you have to do one of their qualifying events – which there are over 25 Ironman events in the world (all of which are qualifiers), and there are a handful of Half Ironman events (70.3’s, named after the distance covered in the event) that have slots through grandfather rules of being under the WTC umbrella for so long. Each of these events has a certain number of qualifying slots allocated to them.

IM CDA, in particular, has 65 slots. These slots are awarded to the top pro and age group finishers. Final slot allocation is not determined until race day, and that’s based on the number of official starters and the number of official starters in each age group. So, if 10% of the starters are in the male 40-44 age group, they get 10% of those 65 slots. If nobody shows up in an age group, those slots go to the biggest groups in the same gender.

If you qualify, you have to accept your slot the next morning, which includes paying the $700ish fee for race entry right there and then. If someone qualifies and doesn’t accept their slot (maybe they’ve been before and don’t feel the need to go again, maybe they don’t want to spend the money, whatever) then that slot rolls down until it’s accepted. Typically, that doesn’t happen a whole lot and it doesn’t roll down very far if it does so it’s best not to count on this.

So, here’s how this thing is gonna have to go down for the Richter kid as best I can figure. I’m thinking there should be 8 slots in my 40-44 age group (I’m 39, but your race age is what you will be in December so that puts me at the age of 40), which is about the max – typically male 35-39 and 40-44 are the biggest age groups. More slots, but more competition for them. Again, the number of slots is a mystery until you’re at the race. Last year at IM CDA there were 377 40-44 year old males. The winner of that age group finished in 9:37:11. Geesh! I can’t do that. So, realistically, we’re not going with the hopes of topping the age group. The guy that came in 8^th place finished in 10:03:26. 10^th place went in 10:06:39.

Assuming all things are equal this year – like weather, for example – this is indicating I need to nail a 10 hour race to feel like I have a good shot at taking home a Kona slot. That is in no way a cakewalk for this cat. I’ve done an 11:24:38 at IM CDA in 2008, and in 2009 I went 10:40:37 at IM Louisville. Granted, I was learning the ropes so to speak, and was not putting any pressure on myself to nab a slot at those events. This time it’s all or nothing.

A 10 hour IM at CDA for me this year might look something like a 1:07 swim (2.4 miles), a 4 minute T1 transition, a 5:13 bike (112 miles), a 2 minute T2 transition, and a 3:34 run (26.2 miles). All of those numbers are guesses, somewhere between realistic goals and what I might call “best case scenarios.” If I’ve misjudged the bike course and am remembering it as being easier than it actually is, or vice versa, the numbers could change dramatically.

So, I really don’t know how this is going to go down, but I’m in the best Ironman shape of my life and believe that the chance of earning a slot is real. Or, I could flop and “just finish.” But back in 2008 when I first attempted this distance at this very same place, “just finishing” was actually a very satisfying goal. We’ll have to see if I can up the ante this time around……

Feeling Outstanding!

2011-05-22T11:19:00.000-04:00

5 weeks to go to Ironman Coeur d'Alene and I am PUMPED! The last two weekend long bricks included a 110 miler at 21.4 mph and a 90 miler yesterday at the same pace. I feel like the course was comparable to CDA, and if so, I feel good about turning in a sub-5:15 ride in those hills on race day. I wish I were closer to 5 hrs to give myself more of a buffer, but with two more of those to go maybe I can push that a little before it's time to taper.

Today's 22 miler was a KEY workout. The long run has always been my nemesis, but today was EPIC. I spent all week mentally suping myself up, and yesterday I laid out every little trick in the book to put this thing together. The "centerpiece" for setting this table was Angie stepping up to ride the sag wagon and hand me Powerbar Ironman Perform drink and water, electrolytes, ice, and an encouraging word every couple miles. Phillip Rowan, Sarah Kehe, and Dave Kemble were there to keep my mind off the deteriorating legs for the last 10 miles and everything, I'm VERY happy to say, performed like a Swiss watch. 7:19/mile pace for 22.65 miles when it was all done, and I felt like I could have opened up a can for the last two or gone on for the other 3.5 miles to make it a full marathon if need be.

So with just 2 more weeks of full-on Ironman grueling training left before the final 3 week taper, I feel golden. I'm confident of a 10 hr race should everything go well (there are some things I just can't control!), and I just hope there aren't 10 or so 40-44 year old males showing up at this thing feeling the same thing about going 9:30. But it will be what it will be, I'm almost ready, and I can't wait!

Hope you had a great workout today, whatever yours was! Have a glorious Sunday!

Training Old School Style

2011-05-14T10:35:00.001-04:00

I thought this would be a good time to lay down what the training schedule has been for IM this year, since I'm doing it "self-coached." What I've noticed to be the trend as of late in IM training is that "less is more" or, that is to say, training 20+ hours a week seems to be old school and that the coaches on the pointy end of things are suggesting as little as 10 hours a week nowadays. Though, the decrease in volume does call for an emphasis on quality rather than quality, and I suspect the latest in these new programs has no room for "trash mileage."

I like the notion, and it certainly has its benefits when you consider the bulk of us are trying to fit a full-time career, spouses, perhaps kids, and whatever else into our lives. However, I wasn't ready for this approach here in my 3rd Ironman attempt, and first at trying to get a qualifying slot to Kona. But since I have the time to dedicate to it, I wanted to see if I could handle a high volume training load and felt it would give me more confidence by race morning. So, when I contemplated my approach to this Ironman I put into the program a 4 month plan broken up as follows: 60 hours, 80 hours, 80 hours, 60 hours.......by month. I've since leaned more towards counting hours by weeks, but essentially I'm following the same theme. I didn't get 80 hours in April (totaled 77) and I doubt I'll get 80 in May - having to be flexible around work, and throwing a taper in for White Lake Half Iron did rob me of a few hours. But for the most part I'm nailing the original plan while being flexible enough to modify it as necessary on the fly.

I'm finding that so far, the body is accepting the high volume training and so far I've been able to meet the demands of every workout without feeling that I'm overtraining and, thank God, without injury at this point. Let's hope this continues!

If you're interested in seeing the detailed layout of my workout plan, let me know, but I will post an abridged version for the sake of sharing the gist of this operation:

Monday (active recovery): conventional weights during lunch break, long swim after work (usually 4000 yards), recovery run

Tuesday: swim during lunch break, after work bike (intervals), run (marathon pace), short functional strength workout

Wednesday: swim during lunch break, speed or strength run after work, short core workout

Thurday: metabolic affect strength workout at lunch, intensive bike after work, short run with fartleks

Friday: off, or at most, a short, easy swim and some yoga

Saturday: long brick - 100 or more miles followed by 6 or more mile run, sometimes swim afternoon

Sunday: long run, recovery bike ride, yoga

I've mentioned the modified Hanson plan for my running program. Here's how the run program looks:

Note that week 11 looks a little odd because that was taper week for White Lake Half Iron. For me, this is very high mileage running. And in its originality, it was intended to be strictly a marathon plan. So, finding a way to weave it in amongst all the swimming and biking took some creativity. Anyway, that's the gist of it. Gotta go get lunch at Sakura now. Thanks for reading.....

White Lake Half Iron 5/7/2011

2011-05-08T10:49:00.000-04:00

I was freezing when I woke up a few minutes before the alarm went off, and the evacuation alarm was going off in my shorts. “Success on race day starts with success in the bathroom” and I had all kinds of success going on in that department.

A cold morning at White Lake Half?!?! This was nuts, and I clung to my Fitness coffee I’ve become addicted to, trying to evolve from, “Why do I do this?!?” to, “Let’s get this fun over with!” Dave Lovelace and Sarah Anderson – two Tricredible teammates - were up as well, trying to fuel up and psych themselves up for their first half ironman. Dave needed a song in his head to replace the one he had, so I belted out the one from the new McDonald’s commercial, “I am in love with a McDonald’s girl! She is an angel in a golden arches uniform!” I don’t think that’s what he had in mind but it was all I had to offer at the time.

Once I had everything ready, I mounted my bike and rode to the race in the darkness. The town of White Lake was surprisingly quiet at 6 am on race morning. With 500 competitors in this year’s triathlon, I didn’t see many others riding to the race. Those I did come up on I greeted with a ,”Top of the mornin’ to ya!”

I racked my bike in transition, dropped my pack, made a bee line for the Korean Space Shuttles to evacuate some stragglers, and then got my timing chip and race numbers. I saw Coach Lance Leo, who helped through my first 2 Ironmans and chatted for a couple seconds, but I didn’t see anyone else I knew. Back to transition to get everything set up just right, and then it was time to get the wetsuit on and head to the water.

The weather was shaping up to be perfect. It was in the 50’s and not expected to hit 70 before noon. Fog covered the lake to where you couldn’t even see the first 100 m buoy. They announced a fog delay, so I hung out in my seal costume with Jay Carmine, another competitior and now coach, to pass the time. He looked super fit, and I hoped I could catch him on the bike after his inevitably superfast swim would put me in the rears. Some sort of announcement indicated we would start shortly, so I hopped in the water to warm up. In the water, I met up with Kit Phillips, another great competitor and overall great guy. I’m always glad that Angie and his wife tend to hook up while we race – they seem to get each other.

Kit Phillips, Wade Laufenberg, me, and Dave Lovelace.

Anyway, as we chatted away trying to keep warm in the water they announced they would make a call on the race at 8 am, in about 30 minutes. Good deal, I thought, cuz I had to take a crap something fierce. I speedwalked to the head, found a stall and struggled to get my wetsuit off. I noticed my zipper lanyard was dangling in the toilet. Nasty. I snatched it out and filled the toilet with some other stuff instead. Oh sorry. That’s nasty too, isn’t it? Well, it’s MY race report and I like to talk about farts and shit, so deal with it.

The 3 Tricredibles participating in the Half: Sarah, me, and Dave.

We all hung around for awhile and then, at around 7:45 and earlier than they stated, they called the swim off. Flustered, I ran to transition to shed the wetsuit and get my helmet on. They were going to start us at the end of the dock, as if we had just completed the swim. We would run in groups of 10, every 10 seconds, to T1 and start the bike leg. I went back and forth in my mind about wearing my running shoes and socks or starting barefoot. I saw Tom Clifford, the race favorite, getting frustrated over the same decision and at the last minute we both sprinted to get the shoes.

As I stood in the corral with the other Open and Open Master dudes and chicks right before 8, the fog miraculously dissipated. Everyone started chanting, “Let us swim!” and they vascillated over what to do. In the end, they stuck with the duathlon format as they had already let the lifeguards go. In retrospect, they made the whole decision way too early and should have stuck with the plan. I hate we missed that swim, but I know the really fast swimmers like Jay Carmine and Marty Gaal were more bummed. Marty couldn’t have worn it on his face any more clearly. It was like cutting Sampson’s hair and then telling him to go pound on someone.

The first group of 10 took off down the chute, clearly containing those most eager to contend the race including Tom Clifford and James Haycraft (a frequenter of the tri forum, www.slowtwitch.com, he had HTFU blazed across his butt. If you don’t know what that stands for……think about it……). A coupla seconds went by, I shook hands with Kit and Marty and wished them a good race, and our group was off. I was the third in this group to cross the mat, and sprinted past the two in front of me as if I was possessed. I yanked my P3 off the rack and took off at the back end of the first group of 10.

I was hammering on the bike, and repeatedly did an internal check to see if maybe this was a little too fast, but I was passing guys from the first pack. Nobody was passing me and I could have cared less to look back and see if anyone was coming. On White Lake Drive, I could see a lead group of 4 or 5 with a motorcycle course marshall monitoring them for any drafting. I wanted that lead pack. Just out of the town of White Lake, I came upon them, assessed my options and quickly decided they weren’t moving fast enough, I could move faster, they might crush me for doing it, but I was going to the front. I got up there feeling great, but still wondering if this was too fast. We’d have a tail wind for 30 miles, so I didn’t want that to give me a false sense of strength when the wind might have been doing a good part of the work for me.

Kit Phillips came up and shared the work at the front, as did a skinny dude in an orange uniform and Mr. HTFU. This was exactly what Chris McCormack described his experience at Kona last year – a lead pack working together without drafting. I had never experienced this before but it was clearly a smart move. I found the going tough sometimes, but for the most part very manageable. And sometimes I found I could get a soft pedal stroke in or stand for a stretch, all the while concentrating more on maintaining a safe and legal gap between me and the guy in front which took my mind off of the fatigue that was building up inside myself. But really what was happening was…….I was having FUN! WE WERE FLYING!

I’d guess we had a group of about 8 at the turn at mile 30 where you hit the headwind. I was prepared for this turning point in the race, which can be a big psychological blow as the wind hits you and you realize you’re more tired than you thought. The road also turns rough here which adds to the frustration. I had gulped some Powerbar cola chews and a Gu Roctane just prior, hoping the caffeine in both would give me a jolt. Right away though, I noticed I had let a gap open in front of me to MR. HTFU and the orange skinny guy that looked like a good runner. I wasn’t sure I could close the gap up and struggled with what to do with the situation just when Tom Clifford came by me. “Great,” I thought and figured he’d try and close the gap and I could key off of him. As we did, I popped a Hammer Nutrition Energy Surge tablet. Placebo or not, it’s supposed to release ATP into the system. I felt better though and we were hooked back up to the pointy end of the race. Tom Clifford took the reigns as we neared the only out-and-back section of the course, which is crucial as it affords you the only chance to see where you stack up against the competition. We hit the turn around in a pack of about 6 or so, with a small gap on the next group. Something very little and white looking flashed behind me – too small to be a competitor and not wearing anything familiar prior to this point either so I blew it off. Kit, a teammate of his that was also a Master, Tom, Orange Guy, Mr. HTFU, and me in group 1. I think that was all.

Over a minute back was Jay Carmine, and Marty was quite a bit after that. He looked like he was still pissed about the canceled swim.

I could see age groupers in droves behind them and figured the officials didn’t wait the 5 minutes per wave that they would have done if we had started with a swim. They probably just let everybody go every 10 seconds.

Back on the rough and (actually pretty mildly) windy highway 53 back to White Lake, that little white thing came up by me. Here was this little cricket of a man, draped over an old steel Italian road bike decked out with aerobars and some high end deep dish Hed wheels……he was pounding it out on his bike, bobbing and weaving, not at all very smooth looking……but from who knows how far back he had caught the lead group and was making his way to the front! And his calf said “OM,” so now we had a 3 way race in the Master category.

A gap opened again at some point, and Kit blazed by me to close it up. I was watching Tom Clifford and figured he knew what he was doing. When the gap opened up too much I figured maybe he was struggling, and I don’t know where the energy came from but I pulled myself across the gap on my own. I said something to Kit about how strong he was looking as I settled into the group. Coming by the motorcycle marshall, I thanked him for sticking with us to make sure everybody raced a fair race and he was very “official” as he said, “You’re welcome, sir.” Now I was in a lead pack of about 5 – lead by Mr. HTFU, then Cricket, then me, then Master IOS teammate of Kit’s, then Kit.

With about 6 miles left to bike, Kit took over. He really took the bull by the horns. I went with him wondering if anybody else was hanging on. It was getting tough to hold his pace and I was ready to get off the bike. He stretched the elastic between us in the last 2 miles and Mr. HTFU and Cricket jumped across me. I settled for this position and we came into T2. I had just biked the 56 miles in an insane 2:15:59!

3 Cervelo P3’s in T2. (Me in the background)

Heading out of T2 to start the run.

I was quick through T2, and took off running behind Kit in second place. Angie was there to take a picture and I was happy to see her as briefly as it was. She asked how I felt and I said firmly, “Good.” The legs felt great and I could not believe where I was in this race at this point! I really needed to pee but I didn’t give myself that option. I knew there were faster runners behind me and I couldn’t hold this position, but the whole top 10 goal was very, very real already. Kit was pulling away from me slightly, which I expected. My legs were turning over just fine so I let ‘em roll as they were. Kit’s OM teammate passed me and I noticed two things about him – he was laboring like crazy the way he was breathing, and he didn’t look to be as good shape as he was racing. But he blew by me and I had nothing for him. I was well under a 7 minute pace and he was trucking. Mr. HTFU came by me next running super smooth. Orange Good Runner Guy came by at some point, and I didn’t know til later that this was Ashley Ackerman, who is indeed a good runner. Then came Tom Clifford, who had a slow turnover and a strange rhythm to his breathing pattern, but he was dusting me too.

Now in 7^th place overall and feeling great, I watched the podium places set up in front of me. Tom had clearly bided his time knowing full well he would run however he wanted and still finish first. But then, as we came by the water park, he stopped and started massaging his legs. I meant to say something encouraging, but I think what came out was, “Come on, Tom, you’re good!” He hollered back, “I can’t! I’m locked up!” Well I hated it for him, but I was now in 6^th! Out on the highway, the same thing happened to Mr. HTFU. I told him to hang in there and that his seat was too high (a stupid inside joke on www.slowtwitch.com). Now, I was back in 5^th, but that didn’t last long as both he and Tom worked out there leg cramps and blew by me again. So, back to 7^th. A Greenville runner I’m familiar with, Mike Riddle, was jogging the other way and told me I was in 5^th. I thanked him for the errant information and pressed on. He was cheering on his son-in-law in his first half ironman.

I couldn’t believe the mile markers. If they were right, I had just run the first 3 miles in 19 minutes. Can I do that?! Running through White Lake, I could still see all the way to 1^st place and I noticed Kit up there wasn’t running away from me. I hoped I could reel him in, cuz I was feeling good. Man, I needed to pee! I took a quick second at mile 5.5 or so to notice I was in the spot where last time I puked all over the place and quit. Not today!

If you recall from my last update, I had intended on running miles 1, 6, 7, and 13 hard. I ended up kicking that strategy to the curb since I really was running pretty good anyway just steady, but I think the thought of surging was tiring in itself as well. At mile 6 I popped my last salt tablet and Hammer Anti-Fatigue cap and started looking for Angie and friends at the turnaround. I think I saw Bert taking pictures but nobody else. I was now in 5^th place again as Ashley Ackerman had dropped out for some reason. About 1 minute back…..I dunno…..it’s hard to do the math when your blood has drained from your brain to support the leg muscles…..I saw the Cricket and another tall orange guy. They didn’t look like they were gaining on me but I couldn’t tell. At the next feed station I took my last swig of EFS gel, popped my last ATP tablet and jettisoned everything but the Olbas menthol inhaler, which I took a hit off of shortly after. Coming back to the spot I’d marked with puke a couple years ago, my stomach was starting to feel stressed from the pee. I stopped and relieved myself on the sidewalk. This took about 45 seconds. Still nobody in sight behind me. I started running again and felt fine for a little bit, but then a little fatigue kicked in and I could tell I had slowed. I think the heat was actually starting to become noticeable. I saw behind me what I thought was the tall orange guy catching up, and I prepared to be passed again. I was…….but not by him. The little Cricket dude flew by me! Damn, that’s twice now this little guy has come by me out of nowhere! How does he do that!? Alright, back to 6^th place, and orange guy is probably gonna put me in 7^th. But I was still running well. I was not going backwards.

Still I was well under a 7 minute pace, which was my goal.

I saw Dave Lovelace at this point coming the other way and he was looking strong.

After mile 9, I started to use markers ahead of me to will myself through the rest of the course. “Run to that next curve and keep the same pace,” I’d tell myself. I noticed I was getting lots of encouragement from age groupers coming the other way. They would tell me what place they thought I was in (anywhere from 4^th to 6^th is the feedback I got) or tell me I looked smooth or “doing great!” I didn’t have the energy to return the favor, but distinctly felt like this was all backwards and that I should have been encouraging them. They looked like they were hurting more and there was plenty of carnage out there to lend a kind word too – people walking, cramping, grimacing. I was having a great race but could not bring myself to spend the energy to share it. I felt shitty and on a runner's high at the same time. Then I saw Anne, Lance’s wife, and she looked like she was struggling a bit but running strong. I cheered her on as she went by. Later I saw Sarah come by and I gave her some sort of encouragement as well.

Now, there was nothing to do but run in for the last 2 miles. Orange tall guy still hadn’t passed me and I couldn’t hear any footprints, but I was too zoned and too scared to look back. I think I picked it up for the last mile, realizing I had a shot at breaking my personal record for the half marathon.

I crossed the finish line feeling strong – not at all exhausted – and gave Angie a big sweaty kiss. She had an ice cold water all ready for me. I PR’d my open half marathon by a minute, finishing the run in 1:28.21. Total time was 3:46.05, 6^th place overall and 3^rd Open Master. The race had gone perfectly. Except for that swim bit….

This has got to be the sorriest race prize ever. But I guess that's not what it's really about, and I look pretty proud anyway!

I don’t know how differently it would have gone with the swim, but I’m sure it still would have been something I would have been proud of. As for the Cricket guy, I know his race would have been way different. He later told me that he was a Master's road cyclist and marathoner but a horrible swimmer, and would have given up 20 minutes to us had we swam. In the end, on the drive home, I concluded that it was a bummer about the swim but the goal of this race was to gain confidence going into the latter part of my training for Ironman Coeur d’Alene – now just 7 weeks away. I certainly did that, and feel I’m right on track to give it my all at that race. Hopefully, I’ll get to swim there!

A big thank you to Lizz and Karen for the wonderful chalk signs all over the course encouraging us Tricredibles. I noticed them all and really appreciate the hard work and the way you guys bring fun to this kind of stuff. Karen, I wanna see your pictures you took with that great big Kip camera as soon as you make them available! And of course a big thank you to Angie for her unending support and sacrifice she puts forth so that I can run and play all over the place. You’re the greatest. Finally, I thank God for just giving me the ability to get outside and do this stuff, to have the fitness to enjoy it, and hopefully there’s something in all of this that isn’t pure selfishness but something that reflects the strength through Him that makes this kind of thing possible.

Giving Due Credit

2011-05-05T20:17:00.000-04:00

We’ll have to see how things pan out……on Saturday with the first fitness test of the season, in the next several weeks when Ironman training gets really taxing, and come the big day in Coeur d’Alene……but things are going really good. And I hate to let the good times role without acknowledging that these are the good ol’ days before they end up behind me and I’m left wondering how to get ‘em back.

I have never been this fit in my life. I have an amazing wife that loves me, sacrifices her needs for mine, and puts up with me. My family is amazing and supportive and I have a monster family reunion in the Idaho mountains to look forward to after IM where we’ll celebrate what I hope one day Angie and I achieve – a 50 year anniversary. I love the Tricredibles and the friends and training buddies that are part of the team, and there’s nothing like representing with them at a race because I want to. It might be cool to be “sponsored” but I’d hate to feel I had to represent something or some brand because I have to. I’m not making any money at this hobby anyway.

Sometimes I take triathlon too seriously, sometimes I find I could care less. It’s a way of life for me that supports good health and being outside where I can marvel at all of God’s amazing glory, from the chirping of birds to a tail wind.

At any rate, the blessings have been numerous and I couldn’t be happier or more at peace with what God’s so generously put within my grasp.

I’m hoping I have a great race at White Lake on Saturday, and my dreams of getting a Kona slot at Ironman Coeur d’Alene are eating me up inside more than ever. Whether I get what I want or not, I hope I can train with everything I’ve got, give it my all on race day, and remember that any glory that follows is not my own but that of God and those around me that He put here to help me through this.

One of the things I love to do on training rides is pay attention to the clever quotes you see in front of churches. I like this one: “If He brings you to it, He will bring you through it.”

For all the trivialities of this adventure – just one insignificant guy trying to put all he has into one insignificant event on an insignificant day in an insignificant life – and I don’t want to lose sight of how little all this matters to the world……but this is what I’m able to do, for whatever reason, and it feels good.

Pumped About White Lake Half Iron!

2011-05-04T19:33:00.000-04:00

3 days to the White Lake Half Iron and the taper is going great!

I’ve cut the volume of my biking and running to freshen up the leg muscles, but I’ve amped up the swimming in their place – so far logging 9400 yards for the last 3 days. Monday, I put in 1000 yd at 1:25/100 pace as part of the main set and found that I was consistently ahead of that pace. (As I mentioned in an earlier post, a 1:25/100 yd pace is my goal for the 1.2 mile swim Saturday.)

Yesterday, I did my usual weekly fitness gauge swim of 200’s on 3:00 and 100’s on 1:30. I was elated to nail them consistently at a new best pace of 2:37 to 2:39 for the 200’s and 1:14 to 1:16 for the 100’s.

I feel good in the water – smooth and relaxed. If I can find some good feet to swim behind and assuming my open water tracking isn’t horrible, this is going to be a good swim for the Richter kid come race day!

We’ll have to see if the high cycling mileage from Ironman training is enough to offset the benefit of the shorter, high intensity training days that I’ve unfortunately missed from the Thursday Night World Championships rides so far this year (for various reasons). But I feel pretty strong on the bike, and I’m hoping this spring’s training sets me up to be stronger in the latter part of the bike leg.

Last night I did a last minute equipment shake down on the bike, as I’ll be using some new stuff. First, I’m not sure that I’ve bought into this contraption yet, but I’ve set my forward hydration up to be an Xlab Torpedo mount with a standard water bottle mounted horizontally. It’s argued that this is more aerodynamic than the more common Profile Design aero bottle I was using. I plan to jettison the bottle – which will be filled with a mixture of Powerbar Perform electrolyte drink mix and CarboPro – when empty and replace it with whatever’s at the course feed station. Let’s hope the feed stations are set up by the time I get there unlike several years ago when they weren’t ready and I ended up having to do the whole ride with the liquids I had on board to begin with!

I hope this darn thing saves some precious watts because it's a bit harder to drink out of!

Also, instead of a standard bottle in my downtube mounted Zipp cage I’ll be using an Xlab aero bottle. I wondered if it would be awkward to handle but it seemed to be just fine, so I’ll go ahead and roll with it and see if its skinniness can’t save me a few precious watts out there!

This thing looks kinda cool anyway!

And I’ve spoken enough about my running form as of late but I really like my high mileage Ironman running plan that I improvised from the Hanson Brothers and I feel like I could PR any running distance event right now if I tried. I’m really excited to get out there on the run course and see how this plays out.

As for strategy, I have mile 1, 6, 7, and 13 as my target surge miles. Mile 1 because the adrenaline will be there from being fresh on the course, seeing my sweet wife cheering me on, and it could be a chance to assess relative strength from any competitors around me. Mile 6 because I’ll be nearing the turnaround and will get my first look at any competitors ahead of me. I’ll be looking for any wounded prey and will want to set myself up for a chance to stalk any that are hurting worse than me. Mile 7 because that situation will be reversed! I will want to look strong for any runners coming up behind me so as not to appear as wounded prey myself! If I can keep up the surge from this point on that will be outstanding, but I need to prepare to suffer for the run back to the finish. Hopefully, I can at least surge from mile 12 just from catching the scent of the finish line.

Weather, for once, looks great for race day. Forecast is 76 degree high and 50% humidity. That’s the best you can hope for at this race, so I’ll take it.

At any rate, everything is stacking up for this to be a new personal best!

Back to White Lake

2011-05-01T06:47:00.000-04:00

One week to go before my first race of the season! It’s back to the ol’ tried and true White Lake Half Iron – a race I used to love, grew to hate, and now I’m going back for more! Flat and fast, this race has a great course for setting personal bests, but lately it’s been known for being a hot weather race. And I absolutely suck in the heat. Last time I raced here I was doubled over and puking at mile 6 of the run when my good buddy John Royal came running by and said, “Looking good, Bruce!” I dropped out right after that.

Can't beat the fancy shack we all stay at when we go to White Lake! Here, the Vincinator emerges from his lair.

It’s the run course that bugs me. When it used to be a short out-n-back done twice through some nice, somewhat shaded neighborhoods I had a blast, but when they changed it to a single out-n-back around the lake with zero shade this race lost its luster to me. Well, that and memories of puking.

Now, 10 pounds lighter than my best race weight and two months of Ironman distance training behind me I’m pretty dog-gone pumped and eager to test myself out there again. And, to throw icing on the cake, early weather forecasts for next Saturday are predicting highs in mid-70’s and scattered rain. For me, that’s perfect!

Lots of competition to motivate me too: Dan Young, Kit Phillips, Jay Carmine, Marty Gaal. I love these guys and I love doing battle with them, even though I’d put my money on them every time. But it’s early in the season and I usually come out of the gates with more mojo than later in the year, and as pumped as I am going into this season I just might have a little sumpin’ sumpin’ for the brothas! Not that I’m contesting the win, because that’s not gonna be realistic. But going sub 4:30 is a big personal goal, and I’d like to place as high as I can, which I hope to be top 10.

My first White Lake Half, back in 2007, went really well. Look at how eager I was to get out on that run course that year!

Gotta have a plan though, so let’s lay this down.

Swim Leg:

I need to throw down a sub 30 minute swim. This is a 1:25/100 yd pace, which is my goal for the IM as well. This is my first test to see if I’m on track. Of course lots of factors here: are the buoys placed accurately, will it be wetsuit legal, etc? At any rate, much of the competition will leave me on the swim – Marty, Dan, and Jay are all much better swimmers than me. That’s just the way it is. I’ll have to swim my own pace, and latch onto any feet I can find.

Bike Leg:

This is a little bit of an unknown at the moment. I tend to go between 2:23 and 2:24 for flat half iron distance bike legs. I’d take that, but sitting in this comfy chair it’s easy to think maybe I can throw down something faster. I’ve not had much high intensity cycling so far this spring, but I’ve had some whoppers on the endurance aspect of things with two 100+ mile sessions already tagged. I want to be prepared for the usual headwind that hits at mile 30, and I plan to have something ready to give me a boost at that moment like a Gu Roctane with caffeine or something. The final 26 miles of this course are crucial as the headwind saps your will to perform all the way to the dismount line. If you’re amongst competitors at this point, it can be a big psychological blow if you can manage to ride away from them here. Perhaps the endurance rides I’ve done lately for IM training will help me feel fresher than usual at this point. But probably not.

At any rate, I hope to close the gap on the fast swimmers during the bike ride. And any extra I can put on them before the foot race will be a bonus.

Run Leg:

My nemesis. If it’s hot and humid, it’ll be all I can do to put it out of my mind and run my own race. I’ll be trying to draw as much energy as I can from knowing I’m showing up to the dance with 10 pounds less of me to tote around the lake. Mentally, I’ll need to break the run down into two 6.5 mile segments – first, focusing on getting to the turnaround quickly, and then after that, hanging on to the finish with hopefully enough energy for a late mileage surge if I can find the gumption. If I can stay focused and find a zone I’m hoping a sub 1:30 half marathon will seal the deal to a perfect race.

The Panic of Taking a Day Off

2011-04-26T18:16:00.000-04:00

I thought I'd try writing whilst somewhat in a state of panic. It's 6:18 Tuesday evening - prime time to be in pure training mode, but I ain't out there gettin' it done. I woke up gung-ho enough, but my noon I was on energy watch, and after just completing my warmup in my regular Tuesday lunchtime swim session I was not at all upset when the lifeguard booted me out of the pool for hearing thunder in the vicinity. "Fine, I wasn't having any fun anyway," I told her and hopped out of the pool just in time before it became a seething death tub of electrons.

All afternoon I've been going back and forth in my head - am I seeing signs of overtraining or am I just being a wussy? Fatigue, a little irritable maybe, and what's this piss-ant little cough I do every now and then? Hell, I should be tired after a weekend 110 mile ride and 5 mile run on Saturday, and a 20 mile run in 90-something percent humidity on Sunday!

The evening's workout -a 1.25 hr bike ride with some intervals, followed by a 6 mi M-pace run, and then 20 minutes of functional exercises -was already in jeopardy with the weather threatening rain, but my plan B was to get on the Computrainer and then get the run in afterwards.

I haven't missed a workout yet in this season's IM training. I've had a strong 2 months of solid training, and when weather or schedule or something else tried to get in the way I found a creative way to alter the workout or I just sucked it up and got out there anyway.

But after setting up the Computrainer and spinning for a few minutes in the garage, I decided tonight would be better spent resting and hopefully I can come back tomorrow burning with energy to tear it up out there on the track for my Wednesday session. I counted the hours I'd miss towards my goal of reaching 80 hours of training this month, and I'm gonna fall short of that anyway. I checked my weight at 160 lb, which is right where I want to be, so I'm not gonna go to bed "feeling fat" or anything. Chilling the night away just seems like the right thing to do, and I hope I can get to bed feeling the same way without going into the typical downward spiral of self-induced panic inspired by the absurdity that my entire fitness is falling apart in the course of one single evening.

Easter Weekend's Tough Workouts

2011-04-24T19:56:00.000-04:00

Just a quick post on how the weekend training went.

I'll back up to last Tuesday for a sec. Tried a new method at practicing pissing on the bike, which most people I talk to think is totally gross, but it can save you some precious time in a race as well as having to regain that momentum after stopping for a few seconds. Anyway, here's the trick. I drank like a fish during the latter hours of work.....to the point I couldn't stand it as I walked out of the building to head home and get ready for my evening ride. By the time I got dressed to ride I was dancing all over the place trying to hold it in. I even peed a short burst getting the bike out of the garage. Anyway, the point was to turn the pressure up so high in the ol' bladder and hold it there til I got on the bike, then allow myself the needed relief. It worked like a charm. The moment I let go, it went all over the place. And yes, I at least brought an extra bottle of water to rinse me and the bike off with when it was through.

A breakthrough in the world of triathlon urination!

Anyway, big weekend. 110 miles on my IM training course amongst the hills of eastern Raleigh on Saturday. I put three 42 minute HIM efforts in there after 1.5 hours of riding, with a 10 minute rest interval. All went very well and I completed the ride in 5:23. Still not up to par with where I hope to be come race day, but 5:15 is just around the corner and I'm still 9 weeks out so I feel good about the ride. I finished it off with 5 easy miles of running, which I say were easy but they felt so good I turned them in at a 7 min/mile pace.

Nutritionally, my breakfast was a bacon, egg and cheese breakfast sandwich (thanks, Angie!), my usual pre-workout shake made of Hammer Nutrition Sustained Energy, a Hammer gel, and vanilla soy milk. A banana, a Power Bar, and some Gatorade on the way to the ride for a last minute fuel up, and I popped 5 Sportquest VO2 Max tablets (snake oil placebo, I reckon, but I bought them for last year's Washington Half Iron and still have a few to go through so I may as well use 'em up) and 2 salt tablets 30 minutes before starting, and took enough of both with me to down every 45 minutes. I also had my trusty Carbo Pro and Power Bar Ironman Perform mixed into my water bottles and one flask of First Endurance EFS gel shot for during the session. At about mile 75 I stopped at a convenience store for a refill of straight water and a Snickers bar.

I felt great afterwards, and all afternoon was amazed at my recovery. Not the slightest bit tired, but with a 20 mile run to do in the morning I turned in early at 8:30 after fueling up with Angie's wonderful seafood lasagna that she so graciously slaved over to help me carb up!

Woke up this morning sore in the buttocks and lower back, and the gumption was having a little trouble surfacing. Oh my! My first morning in this year's IM training where I was questioning whether I could do the training session and contemplating putting it off! I fueled up though, tried a few stretches, Angie and I had a fun little Easter basket hunt for each other, and when I professed how unsure I was she was right there to tell me to get out there and run! Angie did a great job encouraging me!

I popped 5 Sportquest VO2 Max tablets and 2 salt tablets, packed one Gu gel pack in the shorts and toted one Fuel Belt flask full of water to start my 20 miler. Then I hit the road. Once I started running I was surprised to find that the legs didn't feel nearly as bad as I suspected, and the first mile went down at 7:36. Great! I thought I'd maintain the pace until I met up around mile 6 with the Sunday morning crowd, at which point the pace would surely pick up and I could bank some time before the inevitable rough slog home the last few miles. Unfortunately, nobody showed to the run and I was forced to do it on my own. Fatigue started rearing its ugly head at about mile 13 - way earlier than it should have. In hindsight, I believe the heat of the day - which eventually hit 84 - and even moreso the humidity (which I had noticed had my shorts soaked within a couple miles of the run, complete with salt slicks on it - uh oh, shoulda brought electrolytes!) is what sapped my strength. By mile 17 I was questioning my ability, and had fallen off of the 7:30 pace I had (optimistically) hoped for. By then, I was falling apart big time, and had to tell myself several times that "a Kona qualifier would not stop and walk!" I trudged on and finished the 20 miler in 2:34:30, just under 7:45/mile but those last few were really more like 8:30.

I definitely should have carried salt tablets and stashed water. Shame on me for not respecting the distance and what the humidity would do to me.

I walked in the house and went straight to the tub without even stripping down and Angie poured ice in it and fixed me my First Endurance Ultragen recovery drink. I barely had energy to spit, and when I did the trajectory only had enough oomph in it to plummet onto my chest. I was cooked.

But mission accomplished! In effort and volume, this weekend was as big as any will be leading up to Ironman CDA. I just hope I can adapt to it such that the speed and recovery will improve by then!

Happy Easter everyone!

What Else Can I Do?

2011-04-17T17:51:00.000-04:00

It's what I go to bed thinking about every night. Did I do everything I could today to prepare myself for Ironman Coeur d'Alene? Did I do everything I could today to put myself in a position to score one of those Kona slots when I toe the line on June 26? Only 10 weeks away, I'm in the thick of it and every day is gonna count.

But this is it. I've tiptoed around it enough, and those smarter than me would probably never admit it until it happens, but yes, I'm going to Coeur d'Alene with the intention of earning a slot to the Ironman World Championships in Kona. My natural ability - dare I say, talent - ain't near enough to do it. What genes my folks gave me, coupled with some extremely hard work......4 months of extremely hard work and sacrifice.........still might not be enough. It's gonna take the stars of the Big Dipper to inexplicably stretch out and align themselves. It's gonna take a blessing from God. It's gonna take all I can muster up, and that's why I ask myself every night if I'm giving it all I've got.

I fully understand I may be setting myself up for failure. Think what you like whether I succeed or not, but gimme a chance at least. I deeply apologize to everyone around me (Angie!!!!) for the negligence this obsession is causing me. But, just a chance, please. Let me take an honest crack at this thing.

On Friday, the gauntlet got thrown down in a big way. My good buddy, who we'll call Frank.......Fisher, got his own miracle and got a slot to Kona through the lottery. I'm not exactly sure how many tries it took, but I think his wife.........we'll call her Anne........said it was something that ends in "-teen." My first reaction was congratulatory, and I texted him on the spot. I couldn't be more envious though, and as happy as I am for him, I can't let him go out there alone and soak up every drop of the sufferage, heat, pain and misery that is that glorious race on that hallowed ground without me suffering right along side him. I gotta make it there too. And that would make it all the more sweeter to be out there amongst good company.

So, I put everything I could into this weekend. A storm rolling in Saturday threatened to mess with my long ride and run. I figured I could get 2 good hours on the bike before it hit, then get on the trainer in the garage for an hour, and then quickly drive to the gym for an 8 miler on the treadmill to complete my Saturday brick. I needed to do the ride at a good pace - something that would bode well for the White Lake Half Iron in 3 weeks but give me the mileage to feel like it was an honest Ironman training day as well. I nailed the ride at 22.4 mph on an extremely windy day, and logged 71 miles in the process. Then I got on the trainer in the garage and rode 15 more on the RealCourse video of IM CDA on the Computrainer. Then, too tired to believe I could nail the 8 miler at my goal pace of 7:30/mile I set out to see how rubbery the legs really were. After 7 miles I was ahead of my goal, on fire about Kona, and telling myself I could ease in for the last mile at an 8:20 pace, still nail the goal pace for the 8 miles, and maybe even conserve a little sump' sumpin' for Sunday's 18 miler. So, that last mile went by in 7:19. I thought about Frank in Kona, suffering without me, every minute of the workout - all 5 hours and 15 minutes of it.

I had a leisurely evening and ate my dinner - a grouper filet and some wild rice, chilled with my feet up and rehydrated for the 18 mile run early Sunday morning. There was something about a bunch of tornadoes all around and evidently a big enough storm came through tearing up some buildings in eastern Carolina and taking a few lives with it. I saw nothing of it but a little bit of sideways rain, and I went to bed at 8 pm and slept soundly til morning. I thank God for sparing our home, and allowing me the frivolous luxury of preparing myself for a petty race that means nothing to anyone in this world. I don't mean to be a big dope my whole life, but if I could just hang on for the next 10 weeks!

I awoke to one of the most beautiful sunny mornings I've ever seen in Greenville, and had a glorious 18 miler. Again, I needed to nail the pace at 7:30/mi to feel confident that I could turn in a marathon worthy of a Kona slot on race day, which, if I haven't said it before, is looking like it will call for a maximum of 3:30. If I can feel a 3:15 is easily doable as a fresh marathon, that 3:30 should be in the cards. Anyway, the pace for today's 18 was 7:20 when it was all done. Perfect. And I had plenty of energy left.

I can honestly say I have nailed every workout since I opened up to Ironman training on March 1. When will I fail? It can't last forever.

So, what else can I do? I have a picture of an aerial view of Kona on my bathroom mirror, and I ask it the same question every morning and every night.

I have a list right here on my desk of all the things I'm doing differently this go-round compared to the last one in 2009 at IM Louisville (when I wasn't really going for a Kona slot). Maybe more, maybe less boring, but I'll post the list in a later entry.

For now, suffice it to say that I'm openly admitting that I am going for a Kona slot. Whether you believe I can get it or not. But if you have any ideas to the question at the top of this post, I'm all ears. Thanks for taking time out of your day to take a glimpse into this bit of an obsession I have. Sorry I have no pictures.

A Woman That Puts Up With My Shit - Literally

2011-04-08T07:28:00.000-04:00

Every morning, before work and after I've showered, shit and shaved, this is what I wake up to.....

Beautifully prepared by my exceptionally wonderful wife is my coffee to get me going and every piece of nutrition I need to get me through the day at work, along with a charged cellphone, and - if I'm really good! - there might be a coupla extra dollahs in the wallet for my allowance! Angie's constantly in tune with the nutritional needs for my training and always asking questions. "Do you want extra grapes tomorrow? Remember, Tuesdays are a big training day for you! Is this enough chicken for your salad?"

Then there's the pre-work breakfast of cereal with fresh blueberries and strawberries, beautifully wrapped in Saran wrap to keep it fresh in those precious minutes between when she heads out for work and I get up and ready to eat.....

I mean, this is a work of art!

And this is really just a small picture of the support and sacrifices that Angie makes for me. I could take a picture of the clothes that have already been ironed and laid out for me for work. Or the dinners that she prepares perfectly executed to be ready to eat right after I've had my evening workout, recovery drink and shower. How about a picture of Angie taking my core temperature with an anal thermometer after a long run in the heat? Once, I was on a particularly brutal run in the middle of the sweltering heat of summer and, by some miracle, she happened to be around a corner in the middle of nowhere with a bucket of ice and a thermos of cold water. I don't even know how she knew where I was, miles from the house!

She does all the hard work. All I gotta do is concentrate on moving forward, one foot in front of the other. She makes it that simple.

Maybe just one more little story to drive this point home. I honestly don't know how I landed the wife of the century. Our story of how we met isn't something that makes for an unusually great story. But the moment I knew she was the one does......at the risk of telling on myself. Back when we were dating, I stayed overnight at her apartment since I had an extremely early flight out of Atlanta and she was closer to the airport than my place. At the crack of dawn, I eased out of her bed and went to get ready. After the shower I took my usual seat on the pot. All went well til I flushed, at which point the contents of the toilet overflowed, gushed out all over the floor, sinkers became floaters and floaters became swimmers, with me standing on the bathtub ledge as if one of them was going to jump up and smear itself all over me. What to do?! I was running late for my flight and there was no way I could clean this up and make it to the airport on time! I did my best Carl Lewis long jump over the cesspool and crept my way back to the bedroom, where Angie was peacefully enjoying the comfort of a sound sleep. "Sweetie? Hey, sweetie?" I said, waking her up. "Hey, baby. Look, I gotta head out and catch this flight, but I had a little accident in your bathroom. I shit all over the place. I'm really sorry. Well, I gotta go. Love you!" I gave her a kiss and was outta there. Any girl that would stay with me after that was a keeper.

Ironman is tough enough on your own. It must be hell to train for one without the support of your spouse. I am so lucky to have such a loving and supportive wife in Angie and she really is the brains behind this whole operation. I owe her sumpin' fierce! Thanks, Pea, for being the best wife in the whole wide world!

What I Have Noticed

2011-04-03T11:11:00.000-04:00

If you ever follow the trithlon forum on www.slowtwitch.com, they do a great writeup every few weeks called "What We Have Noticed." The article is basically a post of the latest gimicks and gadgets that have come out in the multisport world - often spilling out of the world of triathlon and simply just a product that they label as cool.

So, I've noticed a couple cool products lately so I thought I'd do my own quick "What I Have Noticed."

Here we go.....

Larabars. These things are awesome. A great treat in a pinch. Here's the list of ingredients in the Cashew Cookie flavor: Cashews, Dates. That's IT! I'm all about eating super healthy this IM go-round and these things are a new favorite snack of mine.

Next are these little Crystal Light powders you throw in your water bottle to make an instant zero calorie fruity drink. We all know we're supposed to drink water throughout the day, but sometimes I find I just am not excited to guzzle water. These little things are great for throwing in your water bottle and turning your water into a tasty drink you can gulp down and make some headway in your daily hydration plan. As Jillian Michaels suggests, "No calories from drinks." Which I fully agree with. Those calories are all empty. Get your calories from solids and enjoy the feeling of a satisfied stomach for awhile rather than picking up that soda.

This next one I discovered through the good folks at TriFitness. Fitness Coffee! It ain't cheap, and whether or not the green tea, ginseng and other ingredients are doing you any good I dunno, but you can drink this without feeling too guilty of your coffee fetish and it really tastes awesome too! They also have some sort of sex coffee that supposedly gets you all horned up too!

Finally, the good folks at the Salvation Army are doing what they can for the relief effort over in Japan. You can too, by ordering they're wicked cool shirt below, to which all proceeds go to the relief effort in Japan. It says "Salvation Army" in Japanese if you haven't guessed. To order just go to http://www.merchline.com/thesalvationarmy/categorydisplay.4972.c.htm.

A Big Weekend and Upward Dog in the Fields

2011-04-03T10:29:00.000-04:00

I put in a killer of a weekend and am feeling great going in to month 2 of Ironman CDA training! Yesterday (Saturday) was a 100 mile ride followed by an 8 mile run. Of note, I've never put in a run this long in a long brick prior to IM training so this was a big day. My goal for the bike was to get some hills in by going to my old standby IM training course between Zebulon and Wake Forest (no hills here in Greenville), and scope out some quieter country roads than what I used to use out there for Ironman CDA 2008 and Ironman Louisville 2009.

Originally, my plan had been to include 3 fifteen mile half iron pace efforts in the bike leg, but because some of the roads were unfamiliar and I was constantly checking my cue sheet I decided to change it to 60 miles easy with the last 40 miles building up to HIM pace.

Lastly, the biggest variable playing into this bike ride was a fierce wind out of the west, sustaining over 20 mph by late morning. Though I keep all kinds of goals and pace markers in my head on every training session, I had allowed myself to scrub all of them as the wind coupled with the hills would put a severe strain on the ride, especially given the mileage as this was to be the first 100 miler of the year.

The ride in the wind was brutal, but I found some great country roads with waterfalls, super hills (I caught myself screaming, "Woohooooooooooo!!!!!" on more than one occasion bombing down some of 'em!), yard salers hogging the roads, and big rocks (We don't have rocks in Greenville. Just swamps. I found myself mesmerized by boulders sticking out of the ground. It's the small things sometimes.)

After 50 miles, my back was starting to hurt a bit. I'll have to monitor whether my handlebars are set too low for this kind of mileage or if maybe I just need to cowboy up and strengthen the lumbars a bit more. But I figured I better take a moment to relieve the strain before I start the 40 mile return effort, so I pulled off into a beautiful field overlooking the spring time green fields of wheat, propped the bike against a telephone pole and did some stretches in the grass. Mostly, I was working the ol' child's pose and the upward dog. At one point, as I was stretching on this lonely middle-of-nowhere field on a country road, a car came by as I was in mid upward dog. Aware of how silly I probably looked in this pose wearing tights and an aero helmet, I can only think how weird the folks in the car thought I was. I think I kinda looked like I was humping that field.

Okay, this guy looks pretty cool doing upward dog, but picture me doing this with the aero helmet on and tights in freakin Deliverance country. Not cool.

But the back felt better and I set off to finish out the ride. The wind had gotten much stronger by then, and even though I was pushing harder I was making no impression on the average pace showing up on my bike computer. No matter, I thought, I had given myself a reprieve from the usual mandatory goal pace inside my head.

The 100 miles took me 5:12, which is about 19.4 mph. That's nowhere near IM KQ pace, but there's still a lot of time and this was the first 100 or more in the hills this season.

Tired as my legs were, I set out on the 8 mile run at a good clip. Just under 7:30 for the first mile. And it got better. By mile 5 I was at a 7:15 average pace. At some point some blooming idiot skipped a stop sign and aimed his Nissan POS right at me. He came within inches, to where I threw up my arms and hollered, "WTF?" I regret saying that, but WTF? He said he didn't see me, but then he didn't even stop at the stop sign so how could he have? Whatever.

I finished the 8 miles in an easy 7:15 pace. Great workout.

This morning was my long run - 15 miles. I'm right at the threshold of real long miles. Up to 15, ahh, that's half iron training. Beyond 15, now we're training for IM. I did the first 10 with the usual Sunday morning 10 miler crowd from Green Springs Park. What a great group we had today! Choo was there - always someone I can count on to run with. He's got Boston in 2 weeks. Blake was there on a short visit from Indiana where he trains with a sponsored running team. He was nice enough to run easy with us today, even though the pace must have been boring for him. Frank was there today! So glad he's able to get some running in these days, as he's been battling some issues with his hind leg.

The 10 miler was glorious as usual. Wisteria is in full bloom and smells great. At the 10 miler mark we were right at 1:12. I didn't stop at the park with the guys. I kept on for home, which was another 5.5 miles away. I felt I was gradually slowing down, but still running at a great pace - under 7:30. By mile 12 I could feel a blister developing on the pad of my left foot. Whatever. But I gotta find a way to keep that from happening between now and IM. The new Asics SkySpeeds were doing marvelous (Grandma, please forgive me. They only come in orange, and there's lots of it on 'em.)

I like to take a moment in the last mile or 2 of my long runs to assess how I feel and how I would feel if I had to run 2 miles further, or 4, or even 10. How much more could you go before the wheels come off? My answer to myself was one more mile, but not sure after that. I was definitely getting tired despite the pace holding steady. I finished the run in 1:52. A 7:13 pace. I'd have settled for 8:00/mi to be honest. I'm guessing this new all-time low in my current weight is making the running feel super easy compared to years previous. Pure elation to be done!

I'm high on life, and loving it out there! 3 months to go! April will be a big month. But this weekend sure is a great start to it!

March Was a Big Month

2011-04-01T19:23:00.000-04:00

Because I lost 9 pounds! 69 hours of training and a lot of eating right, eating less, and eating at the right time. I didn't think I would go much under 165, but I landed at 161 on April 1. Tanita says fat percent at 8, which is probably somewhere close.

Very much on schedule if not a bit ahead for getting ready for both White Lake Half and Ironman CDA. Loving it. Pure T loving it!

Pumping Iron for Ironman

2011-03-27T16:07:00.000-04:00

2 blogs in one day! Must be cold and rainy outside......

Of some controversy, I suppose, is the need for lifting weights in triathlon. Personally, I'm all for it, but if you find you're doing just fine without it then by all means spend that time swimming, biking and running. I like to dedicate a little bit of time though during the week for 3 short strength workouts - two functional ones that concentrate more on core strength, functional movement, and balance, and one old school session with dumbbells and machines.

You know, some good old hard core wight lifting, kinda like this.......

Whoa! How did that get in here?!

I've been into lifting since I was in high school, when a girl in P.E. saw me in my tank top and said, "Bruce, your biceps are skinnier than your forearms." That comment broke me, and I hit the gym right after that.

Back in high school, I lifted religiously and loved the little dungeon that was the weight room back then.

Admittedly, the muscle I put on in high school that's still with me might not be all that helpful in triathlon. But I had no idea back then I'd be into this stuff. But there is strength there that I believe is tantamount to cycling strong, and can be useful in swimming and running as well. Now, the lifting I do is meant to augment the swimming, cycling, and running - I'm not trying to add muscle, just use the strength in the muscle I already have, and the movements I stick to are meant to mimic those that I use in triathlon and work the muscles that will be called to service on race day. Just very basic movements that employ the major muscle groups. I also find that a little muscle strength work keeps the injuries at bay.

Here's my Monday lunch time weight routine, which takes less than 45 minutes:

Ab Ripper X routine

Leg Press, 3x20 reps
Leg Extensions, 3x20 reps
Leg Curls, 3x20 reps
Calf Raises (Seated or Standing), 3x20 reps
Pull-Ups (Weight Assisted), 3x20 reps
Lat Pull-Downs, 3x20 reps
Back Extensions, 50 total
Dumbbell Chest Press, 3x20 reps
Dumbbell Flyes, 3x20 reps
Dumbbell Lateral Extensions, 3x20 reps
Single Dumbbell Tricep Extension, 3x20 reps
Dumbbell Bicep Curls, 3x20 reps

Note that I don't go below 20 reps. Again, just trying to build strength not mass. I find that 20 reps gives a good burn and keeps me from lifting too much that can cause muscle to build or possible injury.

Notes on the Above:

- Ab Ripper X: If you haven't tried this great ab workout from P90X, Google it. I love this routine. It hits the abs from all angles and is a quick way to deliver a knockout punch to the core.

- Only four exercises for the legs and glutes, starting with the one that employs the most muscle groups (Leg Press). I scrunch myself way up in the leg press to maximize the range of motion. You can cheat yourself out of a lot of work if you push the seat back.

- Leg Curls are what I believe to be the most important of the lower body exercises. Hamstrings are injury prone for runners, so you need to build them to be strong. You don't see a lot of muscle heads doing leg curls for two reasons: (1), they hurt, and (2), you can't see those muscles and they only care about what they look like. This is why they spend forever on the bench press.

- Calf Raises, again for injury prevention. Any muscle that is prone to injury has got to be strengthened against it.

- 2 lat exercises that both work the lats in a vertical plane, in line with the lever direction of the latissimus dorsi. It's my feeling that this plane mimics the action of swimming more than doing rows, which work the back muscles in a plane perpendicular to the lats.

- Back extensions, critical because the lower lumbar muscles are one of the first to ache on long bike rides. Toughen these muscles up! They also protect the spine which is another reason to strengthen them and guard yourself against back injuries.

- Both chest exercises are done with dumbbells, which incorporate a balance aspect into the lifting process. Leave the bench press with the barbell to the muscle heads that are more concerned with how they look in the mirror.

- Shoulders need to build some swimming strength too, so I hit them with the lateral raises. Sometimes I mix in some front raises just for the sake of it.

- I do the triceps with a single dumbbell so I can hit both triceps at the same time. At this point, I'm running out of time in my lunch workout so I'm trying to get it done without skimping too much on the smaller muscle groups. Those triceps can be key in maintaining good posture in the aero position over the long haul.

- I try to whip through the bicep curls as well. These are lesser muscle groups when it comes to triathlon, and they've already had some work during the lat pull downs and chin ups. But the biceps do play a roll when you're climbing out of the saddle on the bike and controlling your steed while your legs power you up the climb.

Okay, now you know what I know as far as putting a weight session into your weekly training routine. So, come on, pencil neck! Get your butt in the gym!

Great Roads Around the World

2011-03-27T14:41:00.000-04:00

Epic run this morning. Not that the pace was anything to brag about or anything. It was really more of a feat just to get out there and do it. The Green Springs Sunday Morning 10 Miler is one of my favorite workouts, and it's only more glorious in the spring to watch the cardinals chase each other and check out the azaleas blooming. But what made this one special wasn't any of that. Only 3 of us showed up, and that was a pretty good sized crowd in itself considering it was drizzling rain, a little bit gusty and coooooooooold (for March).

I squeezed 3 extra miles in early along the canal that flows through ECU next to 10th street. Full of water, it even had rapids in it at the bridge by Elm Street Park. I tried to imagine that I was running through Seattle in that mist with a roaring river alongside me. And that got me to thinking.......about epic trails and roads from the past............(pause for fuzzy scene change and harp music)

The Rockland lighthouse appears out of nowhere as you run towards it in the fog.

This first one's in Rockland, Maine. On a business trip for GW circa 2003, I found some freetime to go for a quick run. I was a newbie to running and not capable of much. But running along the golf course I found a rock jetty going out into the harbor. It was so foggy you couldn't see but about 50 ft. It was eerie running on those big flat slabs of rock in utter silence other than the sound of water slapping up against them. I had no idea how far the jetty went or what was on the other end until, out of the fog, the lighthouse appeared.

In more normal conditions, the lighthouse stands proud over Rockland Harbor.

Another favorite of mine is the seawall that runs around Stanley Park in Vancouver, BC. Stanley Park is overrun with runners, so you can't help but feel right at home. It's such a beautiful city and from each point of the run you get a view of a different part of it - from downtown to the expanse of the Pacific Ocean. Sea planes take off and land every few minutes from right in the harbor as you meander your way around the island.

Even in early February, the weather is more than comfortable for running in Stanley Park.

Another business trip gave me the opportunity to get in a 15 miler along Newport Beach, CA. I marveled at the expensive homes with patios that opened up right onto the boardwalk.

You have to pay attention to meander through the crowds on the Newport Beach boardwalk.

I had a great run out there, even though I got caught up in a pissing match for running supremacy with a Cali boy as we went shoulder to shoulder exchanging running resumes.

The scenery is unmatched at Newport Beach, fo' sho!

In 2005, I rented a bike and rode the historic White Bird hill climb in Idaho. An engineering marvel for its time, this road meanders over 8 switchbacks as it ascends over the tiny town of White Bird, where the Nez Perce indians opened a can o' whoopass on the white men that came to slaughter their entire tribe just to be big white bullies.

The White Bird hill climb and its 8 switchbacks to the top.

After about a 45 minute ascent to the top, you can take the newer, more direct higway back down to the bottom for a quick loop. Great place to stay south side of White Bird - just look for the people that have their bed on the porch and sleep on it outside!

Almost to the top of the White Bird hill climb with the valley of the Nez Perce below!

Another Idaho favorite is the Airline Trail, just about 2 miles from my parents' house in Garden Valley. I was invited for a 15 mile run with some neighbors just after doing Ironman CDA, and this run was epic. We went 8 miles into the wilderness, and I stuck to my guide like glue as he had his trusty dog, a hunting knife and a pistol with him and plenty of cougar experience. The other guy was way behind - cat food, for all I knew! After 8 miles of nearly hand over knees uphill running, we turned around to beautiful view of Garden Valley and made our way back down.

Up to this point, I had scoffed at the claim that the Airline Trail was steep. Right after this, it was like scaling a roof!

Some of the Airline Trail is groomed for dirt bikes, but much of it is pristine wilderness and somewhat eerie as you feel totally alone and perhaps as if something is watching you!

Plenty of places to make a wrong step on the Airline Trail!

I had some pretty epic bike rides in the 6 Gap and 3 Gap areas around Helen, GA, but Hog Pen Gap always sticks to my mind. It was down the north side of Hog Pen that I had my all time top speed of 63 mph. I also had many a good bonk climbing the south side.

The sign for the top of Hog Pen Gap is always a welcome sign!

When they weren't rioting about Anti-Americanism, the students at Yonsei University in Seoul, Korea were quite nice when running on the campus. Just on the other side of the hill I lived on was a back gate to the campus, and running cross-country in high school I had lots of opportunities to explore every mile of it. There was something soothing about the sound of the cicadas in the fall as I cruised under the trees around those historic buildings.

Ivy grows on the walls of the historic architecture at Yonsei University, Seoul, Korea.

While we're talking about Seoul, I would have to include Riverside Park along the Han River that cuts through the city.

The Han River winds its way through the city of Seoul, Korea.

At the time - late 1980's - the park was brand new and the Han River suspected of creating mutant fish in its toxic waters. But as a high schooler, I had it in my head to run my own marathon in a place where signing up for a real one didn't exist. I ran 9 miles from church to home along the park every Sunday to train for my own personal marathon, which I ended up doing in spandex bike shorts with a leather chamois pad that rubbed my balls raw til they were bleeding. But I did it!

The park road was modern and crowded even back when I was running on it in the 1980's.

Last, and probably most nostalgic for me, is Taechon Beach, also in Korea. We spent several summers there relaxing in the sand with friends from school and church. Over Chusok holiday one year while I was in high school, a bunch of fellow cross country runners and I met for an epic run along the road that wound up and over the hill at the beach. I remember flying up and down the winding steps that were cut into the hill, looking for any kind of terrain we could swallow up, too young and feisty to care about being tired.

I didn't have any pictures of the dirt road that I remember running, but the beach was the main attraction back in the day anyway!

There's plenty of time and life in me yet to find more epic trails and roads to explore! I hope the roads you find yourself on are just as inspiring. Thanks for reading!

Retiring the Booby Box

2011-03-20T14:52:00.001-04:00

Preparation for Operation Ironman Coeur d’Alene 2011 The Sufferfest continues to be going swimmingly! And bikingly and runningly for that matter. There’s actually a lot going on this time around that I feel is over and beyond the effort I put into the last 2 Ironmans. I’ll get to some of that in a later post. For this particular blog entry though, I wanted to delve into a little sumpin’ sumpin’ that’s kind of a big step for me but is already paying off big in my training and nutrition for the season.

So, here’s the confession. I drink way, way, way too much wine. I love it. I hate white wine – too sweet. But put a glass o’ red wine in front of me and I’m all over it. And I don’t mean the crap that folks like the Gallo brothers do in those big jugs, or even that horse swizzle that they make in Australia, or any of that damn fur’iner wine from France. $45 a bottle?!?!? Please, brotha! I’m talking the really, really top shelf stuff that you can only buy in the finest cardboard boxes. Slap a nice box o’ Almaden Burgundy on the counter, poke that easy pour spout out the end, and fill ‘er up! And just in the name of classiness, you can go ahead and rip the whole wine bladder out of the box and cram it in the fancy African carry-all with the picture of the topless Zulu chick toting her basket o' corn that my sister got for me once on a safari.

Ahhhhh, my beautiful vixen! Such sweet libations you poured from your Liberian breastesses. Until we meet again.....

I’ve known it wasn’t the most prudent thing to do for someone claiming to be addicted to multisport. But I figure it’s okay to imbibe as long as you put in the mileage to earn those sips. I never put any math to it, but I’d have probably been alright with something along the lines of

{(X hours on the bike) x (Y avg mph)} x 2 = wine earned (in ounces)

No, really.

This was a pretty typical evening recovery scene in the last few triathlon seasons.

Every time I see one of those articles in the triathlon magazines saying it’s okay to have a glass every evening I think, “Well, hell, if one is that good for you imagine what 6 will do for me!” So, how bad can it be? Do you really need a liver for triathlon? Hey, maybe I should look into that as a weight saver….

I should have caught it back when I did my first marathon back in 2006. I had decided at a half iron race just prior that perhaps over indulging in the sauce wasn’t as big a factor as we are typically led to believe. I had wined and dined myself the night before and managed a comfortable 5:22 for the swim, bike, and run, which I was ecstatic about at the time (Admittedly, this would leave me more than just a little disappointed with myself at this point in my multisport journey). So, the night before my first marathon a month later, it seemed perfectly natural to take on a bottle of red in the hot tub. Some 4 hours and 20 minutes of painfully walking and jogging the next day through the marathon taught me otherwise. But I’ve also had plenty of good races and training sessions after drinking enough the night before to swell myself up like a dog tick. I just didn’t want to sacrifice that much.

But, this time it’s different. I wanna know! I really, really wanna know how far I can push myself. I just don’t figure I can keep that up if I’m really going to do everything I’m hoping for in this Ironman. So, even if it really may be a serving of fruit per glass, the path to antioxidant nirvana, or some other barely believable argument to justify that glorious intoxicated stupor…….I’m giving it up. No more wine, beer, or any alcohol. At least until after the Ironman.

Tuesday will be 3 weeks. And I haven’t missed one drop. Neither has Angie. She shelved the Natty Lights alongside my own sacrifice. Ain’t she awesome? It’s been great too. I feel stronger, lighter, and when I wake up in the morning I’m eager to get going with the day and find I have much more motivation.

So, rather than the old familiar glass of wine in my hand that you might have been used to seeing me with, you’ll now see me sipping a cup of green tea, a glass of water, or a lemonade in the late evening. I find that, when I was dehydrating myself with that succulent bloody looking libation, I’m now hydrating much better, aiding the recovery process from the day’s training, and setting myself up for another great day of race preparation.

So, drink one or two or nine or four for Angie and me! And if you want a Fat Tire, please come over……….there are still tons of them in the fridge in the garage!

A Simple Minded Triathlete

2011-03-13T16:58:00.000-04:00

"Doing anything special this weekend?" my coworker asked me on Friday. Half listening and half engaged in my work I gave my usual response, which truthfully, he should have memorized by now: "Swimming, biking and running."

"Doesn't that ever get boring?"

It was a pretty good question really. I'm sure it sounds horribly unappealing to anyone that isn't fully immersed in this multisport lifestyle. So, why does this arguably boring lifestyle appeal to me? Maybe we're all wired a bit different, so is there something in my head that makes living a good chunk of my life alone in my thoughts whilst swimming, biking, and running just work for me?

I don't wanna get too deep here, but yeah, maybe. I think about how simplistic it is when it's just you and your body pushing yourself to go forward. It just seems so perfect when you can narrow your focus to the feet moving forward, the sound of your breath, checking off how the heart feels, how the lungs feel, are the legs getting tired. It's all internal and nothing outside competes for your attention.

As simple as it is, there are simpler ways to live and often I find them appealing too. Sometimes I wonder if I could have made it as a monk. Giving everything up for a simpler life just sounds inviting! When I was a kid growing up in South Korea, my dad used to take me to a place called Jesus Abbey in the Taebaek Mountains in Kangwondo. It's a Christian community where people visit to engage in prayer or seek peace and solace in the name of the Lord surrounded by those beautiful mountains.

Kimchi pots in the foreground, Jesus Abbey always seemed to have a mystical appearance to it.

As a kid, I had little appreciation for the spiritual aspect of Jesus Abbey. But I'm just as mesmerized now, in my head, as I was then by the natural beauty that surrounded the place, the simple pleasures of exploring nature, the obligatory prayer sessions, a modest meal, and a mat on the ahndal heated floor to sleep on.

The stone buildings were built into the side of the mountain, with a lovely thatched roof.

I'd love to go back some day, and I often drift in thought to the idea of living out a simpler life along the grounds of the Abbey. Or, I could stick with this triathlon thing, which by comparison, seems like a pretty elaborate lifestyle. I guess, like anything else, it's all relative but perhaps if you have a place in your mind where the simplest things seem that they could offer a lifetime of enjoyment........well, maybe that's why you're into this triathlon thing as well.

That, or you like beating people and then rubbing their nose in it. S'good stuff too!

Running in Circles

2011-03-05T14:28:00.000-05:00

Track workouts are one of my favorite weekly workouts – often one of the hardest of the week – but many triathletes don’t make use of them and I wonder perhaps if one of the reasons is because some aren’t sure how to put them together. I’m no certified coach, but I listen to what’s out there, I try a lot of stuff, and I do what works for me. It’s a little of trying to be a good student of the sport, paying attention to the science, and going with what “just feels right.”

Track workouts are the best way to gauge your pace because the 400 m loop is a constant.

So, if you want to get on the track but you have questions like what goals to set, how many intervals to do, what speed you should do them at, how long you should rest, etc. give this a try. All you need to figure out is, (1) how far your intervals need to be, and (2) what pace you should run them.

Your track workout is a key running workout, so first place it somewhere in your training week so that it is not right on top of your long run day or any other strenuous workouts. For most, the long run day is on the weekend so Wednesday is a typical track day. The track workout will be similar to a typical swim workout with a warm up, a main set, and a cool down.

If only a college near you had the gumption to actually build a track like this! Think of the possibilities!

Warm Up

You just want to get the leg muscles primed. We typically do a 1.5 mile warm up, or 6 laps around a 400 meter track. This should be at a nice, social pace. If doing this workout with friends, use the warm up to chat and don’t concern yourself with the pace. You should have no problem being a chatterbox during the warm up. Stretch a bit after the warm up.

Main Set

This is the fun part! For most triathlons and short distance running events, your intervals in the main set are going to probably be between 400 meters and 1600 meters. For marathons and iron distance triathlons, you might bring your interval distances as high as 3 miles. This season, I’m following a modified version of a marathon plan designed by the Hanson Brothers. This plan is for an Ironman, and the first half of the 18 week plan has the track workouts designed for increasing speed:

3 mi total intervals (10K pace) – max 1600 m interval

Examples: 6x800 m, 3x1600 m, ladder of 2x400 m, 800 m, 1600 m, 800 m, 2x400 m

Rest Intervals 400 m

The second half of the marathon training plan has track workouts designed to increase strength. For a marathon or Ironman, this makes sense. You’ve used the first part of your build up to get used to speed. Now you build that speed over a prolonged interval:

6 mi total intervals (:10 slower than 10K pace) – min 1600 m interval

Examples: 2x3 mi (1 mi RI), 3x2 mi (800 m RI), 6x1600 m (800 m RI)

(For more about the Hanson plan go to www.hansons-running.com)

If your season has shorter distance races in it, you may not need to progress to the strength phase of the workouts as sprint (5K) and international (10K) distance races require more of a speed focus. If this is the case with you, you will want to increase the interval pace to at or below your goal race pace. So, for a 5K, for example, perhaps you would want to try your intervals at 5 to 10 sec faster than 5K pace.

All you need for running intervals on a track is a watch with chrono feature to record your splits and check that your on your target interval pace.

As for the Rest Interval (RI), it’s meant to be active. Instead of standing still resting, you need to jog easily to keep moving. So a 400 m RI would be an easy jog around the track before you start the next interval (about 2:20 or so, but it’ll vary for your particular speed). Every now and then, or again if you’re concentrating on short races, I like to increase the intensity of the workout by substituting the active RI’s for a very short Static Interval. For instance, 6x800 m with SI of :45. This makes the workout much harder as it shortens that recovery period, but it’s a great way to shock the system into handling speed when you’re fatigued!

Tip: One thing regarding the track workout on race week: keep it down to a simple 4x400 m. You don’t want to exhaust your legs going into a race with a hard workout, but you do still need to keep some intensity in that tapering week of your race.

Now, what about pace? How are you supposed to know what your 5K or 10K pace is unless you’ve just completed one and you know for sure you just put everything you had into it? Here’s where a bit of science comes in.

It's called the VDOT method and it isn't an easy test. It refers to the volume of oxygen consumed per minute and you can read about it several books by Jack Daniels. To find your VDOT, go to the track and do a warmup as described above. Then, run 3 miles (16 laps) as fast as you can in which each mile is consistent and record those mile splits. If you run the first mile in 6:00, the second one in 6:10, and the third one in 6:47 you didn’t nail it. Try to keep each mile within 5-10 seconds of each other. This is a really tough workout! It’s just like doing a 5K all out. Remember to cool down after you’ve finished. Take your recorded mile splits and apply it the VDOT calculator at http://www.attackpoint.org/trainingpaces.jsp and it will spit out your split times for various distance intervals. Here’s my last VDOT as an example:

In this example, Threshold (T) pace is most equivalent to my 10K pace so my speed intervals in the above workouts would be done at a pace at 6:25.

There are other run calculators on line: Mafftone, McMillan. I have a spreadsheet that compares them all if you'd like to apply it to your particular pace.

In truth, I find that I can do my intervals faster than the prescribed pace as dictated by the above method, and my guess is you will too. But you have to consider what you’re training for and does it make sense to push the pace beyond in these workouts given your goals. In my case, as I’m training for an Ironman, it probably won’t be of any further help to run my 800’s at, say, 5:50 pace rather than the prescribed 6:11. I won’t be using that kind of speed in the marathon leg of the race anyway. The goal is to dip your pace under race pace just the right amount to add speed and strength to your race legs, while still keeping it at a practical percentage of race pace. So, if you’re on the track training for an Ironman with your buddies who are training for a 5k you might have to swallow your pride and watch them drop you. But that’s only because the goals are different. That’s why this sport requires discipline!

Cool Down

Pretty simple here. Your legs just need to detox a bit. They’ve been going pretty hard and you need to let them adjust and also bring your heart rate down. A mile (4 laps) around the track is a sufficient cool down and again, do this at an easy, social jog where you have no problem chatting with friends that are cooling down with you. If it won’t cause problems with other people using the track, I like to turn around and run the track the other way just to even out the legs a little bit.

Now you have all the tools you need to put together a track workout or series of track workouts to prepare you for your goal on race day! Sure, there’re a million other ways to come up with track workouts but now you have a great start! Happy running!

Polar Bears Swim Really Fast

2011-01-29T16:38:00.000-05:00

A show on Animal Planet last Thursday shared that a polar bear can swim 6 miles/hour. I'm not sure I believe that but if it's true it would be a very dumb idea to jump in the water to escape a polar bear. Completing an Ironman swim of 2.4 miles in under an hour is an amazing feat alone, so imagine racing a polar bear in one of those things! Of course, I think I could take him on the bike.

It's easy to get caught up in all this "trying to get mo' betta, mo' fasta" stuff in triathlon. I remember once about 10 years ago - way before I had the triathlon bug - we went for a vacation at my cousin's cottage at Warm Lake up in Canada. I watched every morning as my cousin's wife would jump in the lake and easily swim to the other side and back as her morning exercise. It was, perhaps, a half mile wide but at the time completely vexing to me that she could do it so effortlessly (she swam in college).

So one day I jumped in and gave it a try. I doggie paddled and side stroked, gasped and treaded water. It was a dumb thing to do, and as I looked back at the cottage from the middle of the lake I saw my wife, Angie, and my dad on the dock yelling something inaudible at me as they wrestled with putting the canoe in the water. They meant to come and "save" me. I could see my dad was livid. He knew full well I had no swimming skills and had no business attempting this stunt. But I made it. Barely.

I've put a lot of work into becoming a stronger swimmer over the years, and I'm still nowhere near a front of the packer but it's getting way better.

The last couple weeks I put in some fun time trials in the pool. It started when I got caught up in a www.slowtwitch.com thread where folks were trying 500 yard time trials and posting their times just for shits and giggles. So I gave it a shot. I was pleased to turn in a 6:39 for this time of the year. That's a 1:19/100 yards.

A buddy of mine who can swim really really good (we'll call him Frank) mulled this over and suggested I should be able to swim a 100 all out in 1:10. I thought he was crazy. So i gave that a shot. I did it in 1:07! Again, quite pleased.

The man we'll call Frank challenged me again yesterday to try a 400 tt followed by a 200 tt. So I gave that a shot. I did the 400 in 5:08 (1:17/100), took 5 minutes active recovery, then did the 200 in 2:25 (1:12.5/100).

I don't know what all this means for this time of year but it's a good start. Maybe the man called Frank will make some sort of sense out of it and turn me into a front of the packer some day. Wishful thinking at the very least.

Anyway, training as a whole is going very well so far. January was a 40+ hour training month and the weight is coming down. Now, just over 170 lb and excited to see what I can make of February. The gumption is a'flowin' through these veins! Thanks for reading!

Gumption

2011-01-08T15:10:00.000-05:00

I love the word. It's so much more fun than all the other words we've made up that mean the same thing. This time of year though, it sure is hard to find a good helping of gumption. I've used the holiday season as I typically do - time off from structured training, minimal time in the pool or the saddle or following that white line on the edge of the asphalt. No training - unless it just feels like something fun to do - since I pulled the off-season parking brake after the Washington Half Iron at the end of October 2010.

As usual, the turn of the new year means it's time to start laying down a baseline for the upcoming race season. I have pounds to lose if I'm going to get back to triathlon shape, and a lot more work to do if I'm truly going to show up to the start of this season - and Ironman Coeur d'Alene - at a new low race weight. I'm starting 2011 at 175 lbs. My usual race season weight is 165 lb to 167 lb. I'm thinking seriously about racing 2011 at a weight at or near 160 lb.

Sometimes you gotta make the gumption up yourself, and today I might have. I set out in the cold weather today to do a solo bike ride of 40 miles. Sometime during the ride the gumption got to me and I locked in on making it 50 miles. Never mind the hands were numb, I hadn't eaten in 3 hours, and I was only toting one bottle with nothing in it but water. Never mind that the dark and ominous clouds in front of me were clearly dropping snow. At about mile 30 I began to bonk - a hunger bonk. My head didn't feel clear, the legs were wobbly, and I found I had to concentrate hard to stay upright. It was pretty gusty too. But I pressed on, determined to get the full 50 miles.

The snow hit right after the bonk started. It wasn't much of a snow, but it was sticking to me and made me more aware of the pins and needles it felt like were being stuck in my fingers. I contemplated taking the shortest route home. I contemplated stopping at work, where I was just about to ride by, and warming myself up for a few minutes. Then I thought how bad of shape I must be in if I would consider going to work on a non-working day, regardless of the reason, and I re-centered myself. Shortly after that thought I cleared the snow zone and started feeling better, though still kinda wobbly from the bonk. I scored the 50 miles and feel like this has been a good day to the start of my base training for 2011.

I spent some time on the ride considering how I would lose all this weight. I think it's time to start a more regimented nutrition plan. Starting Monday I'm going to try this as my standard day's nutritional intake, until the volume and intensity of my training dictate the need for more fuel:

Pre-Work Breakfast:
Honey Bunches of Oats w/ Blueberries, 5 tbsp of Hemp Hearts
Coffee

Mid-Morning Break:
Banana
Diet Pepsi

Post-Lunch Workout:
Chocolate Milk
Salad, w/ Chicken

Afternoon Break:
Diet Pepsi

Dinner:
Something Sensible that Won't Piss Off Angie

Speaking of gumption, I'm not sure I have enough for this, but I was thinking of writing updates on this blog as my 2011 season shapes up. I don't really know if I have anything interesting to write about. Maybe it will entertain one or two bored people. Maybe it will serve as a good log for myself to return to in the future to remind myself what to do and what not to. At any rate, thanks for reading.

Washington Half Iron, October 30, 2010

2010-11-07T13:47:00.000-05:00

The 2010 triathlon season had felt like a long one. With 12 races completed, by August I was already feeling burnt out even without an Ironman in the schedule. But I had signed up early in the year for the Washington Half Iron, when it was scheduled for May. So when it was moved to late October I had little desire to take my sprint distance form and push it up to long distance form so late in the season. I wondered how I would keep myself motivated to train properly. With this being the race’s inaugural year, it was sure to be a small field. A rare opportunity to be a podium contender at the half iron distance should have been motivation itself, but the task of whipping myself into shape to do so seemed daunting.

I already knew my good friends and fellow competitors, Frank Fisher and Phillip Rowan, were committed to the event as well, and I looked forward to racing with them. Frank is a phenomenal swimmer – I can’t touch him in the water – and his bike is almost as good as his swim. Phillip is a phenomenal runner – I can’t touch him in a pair of sneaks – and his bike is almost as good as his run. My strength is my bike, and I’ve tried to develop my swim and run to be as good as I can. So the three of us were all contenders, but in order to feel like this race was anything more than a hard training session with my regular training buddies we needed more competition. So, when I discovered that another friend and competitor that I hadn’t raced all year, John Worden from Durham, had signed up my competitive juices started flowing. John rarely has any problem beating me in a triathlon, and as far as I can remember I only bested him once in a measly pool swim style sprint triathlon (Azalea Triathlon, 2008). All three half iron races we had both competed in John had passed me quite handedly on the last 20 miles of the bike course or early on in the run and never looked back. I was excited to have another crack at my good friend at this distance.

Sometime late in September or so, an unknown signed up for the race with a strong racing background. Joel Bell was a triathlon coach from Virginia Beach and had thrown up some impressive races recently. His swim was okay, but his bike was strong, and his run was unbelievable. I picked him as the race favorite, and spent a lot of time trying to develop a race strategy that would get me ahead of him early enough in the race to contest for the win.

My goal time was to beat 4:30. I hoped to swim under 0:30, finish the bike with as much time under the 3:00 mark as I could, and then run something as close to 1:30 as possible. My personal best for the distance was 4:35:36 (White Lake Half Iron, 2007), so I was looking to beat that and then some.

Fast forward to race week and the smack talk was getting pretty thick between Frank, Phillip, John and I. Frank had announced he had a secret race strategy that was “risky but the payoff could be huge.” Phillip was looking super strong, and most importantly for him, very healthy. He has a tendency to be injury prone, but no signs of that going into this race. His third attempt at this distance, Phillip was concerned about cramping on the run - an affliction that reared its ugly head on both previous attempts. (Phillip is 54 years old by the way. But don’t let that age fool you. He has kicked tons of young fellers to the curb that have tried to hang with him.) John was planning on staying at my house the night before the race to minimize the long drive he’d have from Durham. I joked that I would spike his coffee with ex lax among other ways of sabotaging his race. I also joked to Frank that if Angie saw he had an insurmountable lead on me at any point in the race she would ride along side him and insist to any race marshals present that she was his coach attempting to pace him (which is an automatic disqualification and a rule Frank knows only too well – a whole nother story there!).

But for all the smack talk, what was messing with our heads the most leading up to the race was the cold weather. Temperatures were expected to be in the low 40’s on race morning. This boded well for the run, especially for me as I’m convinced I suffer exponentially as the temperature rises. But nobody was excited about swimming in cooler water and then getting out for a bike ride, all wet, and freezing. Phillip was the most vocal about it, and for all his worrying he did his best to acclimate by hitting the Pamlico River a few times for practice swims the last two weeks before the race. He also showed up with a brand new long-sleeve wetsuit. I tried to remain as stoic as possible so as not to let on any apparent weaknesses. But by race morning, I was just as cold as the rest of them. Angie had done John’s and my body marking at the house, so we wouldn’t have to strip down in the cold weather at the race site to get it done by volunteers. I had heavy socks on as I milled around getting everything ready before the race. Angie was shivering wearing a great big fleece blanket she had acquired from who-knows-where. I ducked into the porta-potty 3 times before getting in my wetsuit – partly to take care of business (as Frank says, “Success in triathlon starts with success in the bathroom.”) and partly because I thought it’d be warmer in there. It wasn’t.

With 30 minutes to go, John and I got in our wetsuits and Angie zipped us in. She’s the only one I trust to get this right. Once in, I realized I hadn’t put any Body Glide lubrication on my neck to keep the wetsuit from chafing me. John said the same thing, and followed it with, “But that won’t cause any pain til after the race so we don’t have to worry about that now!” We eased into the river to get used to the temps, and I immediately peed in the wetsuit to accelerate the warming process and take advantage of the last chance to empty the bladder before the race, when such tasks get far more difficult to accomplish.

Swim Leg: 1.2 miles

Once we were lined up to start the race, with the first wave being all the men, I positioned myself in the front, middle of the pack. I had become increasingly confident about my swimming ability this year, so I was not concerned about the physical beating that usually takes place when you’re a middle-of-the-packer. Frank, I noticed, was lined up on the far left, clearly ready to scoot around all us mediocre swimmers by comparison. My plan was to stay on Frank’s feet up to the first turn buoy to distance myself from John, Joel, and Phillip, but with him on the far left side I had no chance of finding his feet. The gun went off and I started stroking. I was surprised to see how many guys were ahead of and with me so early on. I swam within my ability, and kept the pace under control. After rounding the first buoy, I could see I was in a chasing pack with Frank enjoying a good gap on us. I tried to work with the group, jockeying for position and trying to find a good pair of feet I could trust to follow. But it seemed those leading the pack were mistakenly heading for a red channel marker rather than the second orange turn buoy. So I veered to the right to make my own line for the buoy. Immediately I started to overtake the rest of the guys in the pack. Evidently, and I didn’t know it then, John was in that pack and fully aware of where I was. He knew he needed to stay with me and quickly got on my feet and followed. Shortly after turning the last buoy, I overtook the last guy in our chase pack. Frank looked to be 100’s of yards ahead – what an incredible lead he had! I came out of the water about 2 minutes behind him, completely unaware that John was right behind me. It seems, John had improved his swim immensely this year as well, and kept that fact under my radar too!

Swim Time: 00:28:39 (Personal best for this distance, assuming distance is correct)

Running to my bike in T1, I caught a glimpse of Angie cheering me on. Man, I love that woman. I got to my bike, peeled off the wetsuit and began the process of putting on arm warmers, socks, and gloves – 3 items I’ve never had to deal with in a triathlon…….3 items that don’t go on very well when you’re wet and cold either. It took forever! Angie was hollering at me to hurry up and get out of there; that Frank had already left about 30 seconds ago; that 2 more guys had already left ahead of me; and that John was almost there too (in my hypoxic state, this is what I understood her to say but she was telling me that he was about to overtake me heading out of T1 – I just expected errantly that he was still in the water). Finally, I grabbed my bike and took off…..not just a little frustrated at the fight it took to get dressed.

T1 Time: 00:02:26

Bike Leg: 56 miles

Out on the bike, I immediately felt good, even though my legs felt like pins and needles were being stuck in them from the freezing cold I felt as I tried to cut through the air. A glance at the speedometer and I noted I was moving at just under 23 mph – come on, Bruce, a little faster! I caught the two that had beaten me through transition in the first couple miles. A quick word of encouragement to one of them (Seth, who I knew to be a good swimmer) and I was off. The plan at this point was to catch Frank as soon as possible and open a larger gap on the guys behind me. I fully expected John to catch me like he always did sometime in the latter part of the bike. Had I known he had come out of the water with me and not with a one or two minute gap behind as I had expected, I would have biked a bit more scared than I did. As it was, I pedaled myself into no-man’s land on the hunt for Frank and was surprised when I rounded a corner and there he was about ¼ mile ahead. At this point we were about 14 miles in and I had expected not to catch him for many more miles, if at all. I turned onto hwy 264 and began pursuit, but told myself not to chase too hard for fear of tiring myself out.

Then I noticed there appeared to be another cyclist up there with him. I wondered who that could be as I slowly got closer. I couldn’t believe another swim ringer had gotten out in the lead. Turning north off of 92, I caught the unknown cyclist and noticed it was a girl wrapped up like it was the dead of winter. I figured she was just a cyclist out for a training ride that got caught up in the event, but later found out she was part of a team. As Frank made the right turn back onto 264, I hoped he hadn’t noticed me yet coming up behind, but I think I saw his ultra-long aero helmet twist in my direction. (If you’re trying to be fast, and you’re wearing an aero helmet, you do your best to keep your head up and look forward at all times to stay as aerodynamic as possible. So you have to use the turns on the course to minimize how much you turn your head when you look behind to check on the competition.) This section of 264 was extremely rough, and it was impossible to find a good, smooth line to stay on. I locked my eyes on the back of Frank as he followed the lead-out vehicle, a white Pontiac Solstice with its hazards on. I desperately wanted to take over the rights of leading the race and following the lead-out car as I have never had that privilege in the bike leg of a triathlon before. Even the few races that I’ve won, I only took the lead on the run segment (well, this year at the Outer Banks Triathlon I had the lead from the start of the swim but it did not have a lead-out car on the bike course so I’m not counting it).

As for bike nutrition, I had a gel flask full of banana flavored Hammer gel that had congealed in the cold weather and was difficult to squeeze out. I also had Sport Quest Metasalt salt tablets, VO2Max Endurance tablets, and Hammer Antifatigue tablets that I took every hour. I was not drinking very much due to the cool temperatures, which in hindsight I believe was a big mistake. But my onboard bottles contained Carbopro for carbs and Heed for electrolytes.

At mile 19, I caught up to Frank. As I passed I mentioned something about how rough the road was and suggested he try to keep pace, as I didn’t think I was moving much faster than him anyway. I’m pretty sure he didn’t understand a word I said as my lips were still a little numb from the cold, and I think what I said sounded a little incoherent anyway. I settled into my pace, enjoying the time behind the lead-out car. There was one advantage I hadn’t realized to being in the lead, behind the car. Its role is to guide the leader of the race through the course, but also to give traffic some sort of idea what’s going on from a safety perspective. So, any oncoming vehicle passing me had to pass the car too. I essentially had full use of the entire lane, so on the rougher roads I could use a smoother line in the middle of the lane if the shoulder was rough. You can’t do that riding in no-man’s land, as you’d be inviting oncoming traffic to mow you down if you went around hogging the whole lane.

Every now and then, Angie and Frank’s wife, Anne, would drive by shouting something unintelligible but probably encouraging. The rest of the ride was pretty uneventful though as I tried to keep the pace high without expending too much energy. By now I was rolling between 24 and 25 mph with a slight tailwind. Nobody was in sight behind me on those country roads and I wondered what was going on back there and what would happen on the run course. I hoped I was building an insurmountable lead, but knew better than that. Every now and then I stood up to pedal and assessed how the quads felt. All was good and I kept telling myself it was my running form that had become really strong as of late, and that whatever was going on behind me was one thing, but I was setting myself up for a great run. I enjoyed coming up on the volunteers manning corners before they expected anyone and startling them into getting into position with their “turn here” signs.

Once I was back in the town of Washington and on River Road with about 2 miles to go, I took one last look back and saw someone was gaining on me. Arrrg! I expected it to be John. I was disappointed to not have the lead I was building hope for, but told myself again that it was during the run that I intended to have my best part of the race. John would have to fight hard to run with me. As I came into T2 with folks cheering for the leader, I saw the second place guy come in. It wasn’t John……it was Joel. Oh crap! Knowing he was an awesome runner a burst of reality hit that I could no longer hold on to the lead of this race.

Bike Time: 2:23:14

I had a fast T2 time. Nothing much to report on here. I yanked off the gloves and arm warmers, put on my shoes, ditched the Giro Advantage aero helmet, and took off running while Joel fumbled to get his bike gear off. I also grabbed a fresh set of salt and endurance pills.

T2 Time: 0:00:37

Run Leg: 13.1 miles

I ran through Washington Park following the lead-out biker and made the left onto the bridge on River Rd. This was my first chance to get a quick glance behind me and see where Joel was. He was a faster runner, but a burst of energy flowed through me and I intended to make him fight to take over the lead. Glancing over my shoulder, he was nowhere in sight. Wow, maybe he’s having some sort of trouble! I might have a shot still! So I kept the pace high. At the first mile marker I checked my pace. 6:45. Much faster than my expected 7:00 pace. I hit the first water station and tried to down some more salt and endurance pills. I fumbled for the right ones and instead just turned the container up and took in 2 or 3 of whatever came out. A few more steps and then I took another look behind me and saw Joel at the water station. He had actually stopped to take in fluids! Wow, I thought again, he’s struggling to find his running legs. Pour on more energy! I hit mile 2 and was still at a 6:45 pace. It was a pace I couldn’t maintain, and shortly after that the hopes faded as Joel passed me at a pace I could not follow. My guess is earlier he was taking his time, knowing full well he was a faster runner than me and just wanted to pounce on the lead on his own terms. I settled into a pace that was more comfortable and concentrated on hanging on to 2^nd place.

At this point, we had reached the drawbridge on hwy 17. We both hit the metal grate with our feet and both clearly did not feel comfortable on that surface, so we leapt up on the high and very narrow sidewalk. It would later turn out that many people fell trying to run on that slippery grate, or by having to leap back down onto it from the sidewalk as runners approached each other playing chicken for the prime real estate.

I reached the first turn around and checked the clock. Now run back, and whatever time it takes to get to the third place guy, double it, and that’s your lead on him. The next one was John, and I had about 6:00 on him. That’s a good lead, I thought, but don’t slack because John has outrun me every time at this distance. Frank was right behind him. Some other guys I didn’t recognize were behind them a bit, and when I got back to the drawbridge here came Phillip, looking strong. I was already on the high and narrow sidewalk when I saw him do the same as Joel and I had done – run two steps on the grate, make a mental note not to do that anymore, and then risk cramping a hamstring by leaping up on the sidewalk. Except I was already on it and there was hardly any room for both of us. I took the outside lane hoping he would leap off, but he didn’t want to get off anymore than I did. He passed by me as I leaned over the side of the bridge to let him by, picturing in my head what it would look like if I leaned too far and fell over the bridge back into the Pamlico. I remember thinking Phillip looked in good shape as he was running by and I hoped he would finally have a good half iron race and join me at an Ironman one day.

People coming the other way shouted words of encouragement, willing me to catch Joel. What they didn’t understand was he was pulling away from me – I wasn’t gaining on him. A couple times a car would pass by and shout my name too. I wondered who it was and guessed it was someone from work that happened to be driving by. At this point my pace was getting harder to keep up. The leg muscles were feeling tight, probably because I hadn’t hydrated properly on the bike leg or early in the run. I was chanting inside my head “JUST-KEEP-MO-VING! JUST-KEEP-MO-VING!” as motivation. I had also developed the need to pee since some time during the bike leg, but figured if John was closing the gap I couldn’t waste any precious seconds going to the bathroom. I ran to the turnaround near the finish line, saw Angie who said something encouraging, told her I needed to pee, and started my second lap, again checking the time to get a split on John. If I still had 6:00 on him I told myself I could stop to pee. If he saw he had chipped away at my lead and I gave away some more time to pee, he might feel he had a chance to reel me in at the next turnaround as well. I wanted to make sure at the next turnaround there was no chance he or anyone was going to catch me.

At this point there were lots of people on the course starting their first lap. Robert Hickner, a fellow Tricredible, was just in front of me on his first lap. There was a time when he and I were competitive in the local 5Ks. I looked forward to running him down, and then I saw John coming my way again. I still had 6:00 on him so, once he passed, I stopped right there in the middle of the road and peed. Nobody was around to see me at that particular instant anyway. Getting back into my run, I felt better for the moment not having to think about peeing. I focused on Hickner as someone not only to pass, but to pass the time as well. I passed him on the bridge and he said something about a flat tire he had had. That guy has the worst luck!

At the last turnaround I still had over 4:00 on John and knew at this point 2^nd place was just a formality as long as I kept moving. I came upon Phillip as I came back into Washington and he looked like he was hurting. Unfortunately, his cramps had reared up again. I hated it for him and thought immediately there would never be a chance to do an Ironman with him one day. I checked my watch and saw I would be just shy of my 4:30 goal unless I sprinted these last couple miles. But I didn’t have it in me and settled to maintain my pace. My legs were hurting and I just wanted to be done with the race and with the season.

Run Time: 1:36:32

Me in 2^nd, Joel in 1^st, and John in 3^rd (photo taken by Washington Daily Newspaper)

I crossed the finish line in 4:31:27, elated to be done. Not just with the race, but this was the end of a long season. A little boy handed me a metal and I caught my breath. I waited at the finish line for my friends to finish and congratulate them as well. We had all suffered out there together, and I respect those guys so much. John came in 3^rd about 3 minutes later, Frank in 4^th at 4:49, and Phillip in 9^th at 5:02. Frank, Phillip, and I had personal bests for the half distance.

Ironman Louisville 2009

2009-09-01T09:38:00.000-04:00

The IM Louisville bound Tricredibles one week before race day! (me, Lizz Nelson, Emily Price, Bert Kelly, Julia Bonner, Keith Hagman, and a coconut representing CC Wilkins)

Downtown Louisville. We stayed at the Galt House right in the middle of the picture.

Laying on a picnic mat, staring up through the trees above me.....it's the butt crack of dawn. 45 minutes left before they blow the horn that will send 2400 of us endurance junkies - single file like a bunch of lemmings - jumping into the Ohio River to start this Ironman thing.......and all I can think is, "Oh no, I think I might puke."

Officially entered in Ironman Louisville 2009!

John Worden and I before going on a little bike ride pre-race.

It looked like a line to buy Michael Jackson concert tickets. Instead of the usual Ironman mass start, we lined up according to how eager we were to get to the swim start or, maybe more accurately, how nervous we were about actually making the swim and overall cutoff times. One final kiss from Angie, a last minute pee, and the line started moving to Kanye West singing, "I know where I got to be right now cuz I can't get much stronger..." Man, I was pumped when I jumped off that dock and was strokin' by folks from my very first catch and pull. It was tricky veering around all those swimmers, and I noticed a lot of people getting beat up pretty bad in the mayhem.

My wonderful wife, Angie, at lunch shortly after arriving in Louisville.

It seemed like it took forever to get to the turn buoy and start heading down river, but once there traffic seemed to thin a bit. I veered right and tried to make a bee line for the final buoy rather than follow the train of buoys that arced along the shore line. This is where I discovered my first problem....something bad was happening in my "boys." It felt like I had a hernia or something. I hoped it was just the swim skin and that it would go away once I finished the swim and took it off (It did).

Angie, Coronel Sanders, Coronel Sanders' chicken, and me.

Chilling with mom at the hotel room.

Arbitrary competitor's bike in a hotel window.

I exited the water in 1:11:39 and ran into T1 with nothing on my mind except the numbers "5" and "9" - 5 for the row my bike bag was in, and 9 for the row my bike was in. Transition went super smooth except for one mistake I had already set myself up for the day before. I set my bike shoes up on my bike for a quick mount when I would start the bike leg, but evidently I didn't think this through as I had chosen to use my road bike shoes instead of my triathlon shoes. The road bike shoes are not easy to slip into while pedaling. It took me a while to get into them, but no big deal.

Kelsey Bonner wearing my running shoes.

Julia Bonner and I and the inviting signage describing where we would swim.

Swim practice: John Worden, Emily Price, me, Julia Bonner, and Kelsey and Carl Bonner clearly up to no good......

Somewhere in those first 5 miles, Coach Lance Leo passed me with a, "There's the man!" for encouragement. He was definitely taking it easy on this first section. We were both moving at about 20 mph through these early flats, but once we started into the hills Lance began to pull away. I noticed a Mexican dude kept overtaking me and then dropping back. He looked like he was laboring way too hard, and I knew it was only a matter of time before he fell back.

Punkin' under the official finish line sign at 4th Street Live!

Claire Blum is the master at Cheer Prop Manufacturing. She, Angie and the girls put these on our hotel room doors.

Between miles 20 and 30 there's an out-and-back section of the bike leg, and it's here that a couple of the bigger climbs take place. I was still taking it easy through this section, and eager to head back and see if anyone I knew was on the same section yet. Nope. But not long after that, my friend and fellow age group competitor Jon Worden, came by me. A couple exchanges of encouragement, and he was off. Man, he was moving fast.....clearly on good form to have a great race and I was happy for him but wished I could be giving him more competition. Maybe, just maybe, I'd see him again down the road I thought.

The panty run the day before the race. Are you surprised I'm not toeing the line?

I got through the town of Lagrange before Angie, mom, and the rest of the Tricredible supporters were there but knew they'd be there on the second lap. And I was developing a very strong need to pee. At mile 50, I gave one full-on concentrated effort to let'er fly, and was ecstatic to feel a heavy flow of warmth run down my leg. That gave me a burst of new energy, and I decided to pick up the pace for the rest of the bike leg.

Last minute BodyGlide application before starting the swim. Everyone wore calf compression sleeves the days prior to the race, as well as during the race, but for some reason I was the only nut wearing them during the swim!

I was popping salt tablets and Hammer Anti-Fatigue caps every hour, and had an EFS gel flask to get me halfway through the bike, and another one waiting for me in my special needs bag a few miles ahead.

At mile 60 I hit the second lap of the bike, and soon happened upon Keith (another Tricredible). We had a quick chat and I pressed on. The Mexican dude was just now falling off pace, and I heard a course marshall behind me holler, "Okay guys, I know it's a climb but you guys have to break it up!" Yes! Bust those dudes! It was a little later that I recognized a couple guys in the penalty tent that were on a similar pace to mine.

This is how my mom rolls! Another Claire creation can be seen on mom's head!

I got a quick burst of energy through Lagrange when I saw Angie and mom and the rest of the yellow shirted Tricredible supporters. I wondered if I was going fast enough to make up time on John.

After mile 75 it's pretty much a straight shot back to Louisville. I was rolling along rather well at about a 21 mph average. I noticed a TON of people sidelined with flat tires and was deathly afraid of having the same experience. I was running tubular tires and had never changed one in a race - it would not have been a quick fix. All of a sudden, I caught a quick glance of what looked like John changing a flat. Oh man, I hated it for him something fierce, but I mistakingly thought he had clincher tires and would be back on the road in a few short minutes. Maybe John and I would have a foot race after all!

My bike split was 5:28:40, or about 20.5 mph.

My legs were tired as I came into T2, and I wondered if I had enough in me to run a full marathon without walking. I knew I'd run the bridge section, cuz that part just looked like fun, and I thought I could certainly finish the first lap of the run, but after that I figured there'd be some decision making to do. I took off running and the legs actually felt pretty good. I enjoyed the bridge section over the Ohio River, and used the out-and-back to look for John coming up behind me, but I didn't see him.

I was starting to feel hot on the first run loop, but sporadic trees gave a little shade. I ran through the aid stations without stopping, but made sure to grab one or two sponges, water, ice in the hat and down the shorts, Gatorade, and then wash it down with another water. I took a hit off my EFS gel shot every other station, and popped salt tablets and Hammer Anti-Fatigue caps every hour on the run. At about mile 7 I saw Lance again on his way back from the turnaround. I reached the turnaround at 1:05 and began looking for John again. After 1:27 of running, I saw him. He was full of energy - not the least bit tired - as he boomed, "Brrrrruuuuuuucccceeee!" I felt awful for him having the flat tire that clearly cost him loads of time when he was obviously in such good form and would have blown me away otherwise. We exchanged a few words and I pressed on.

Just before starting my second lap, I saw a Tricredible Train starting the first lap: first, Julia Bonner looking amazing rocking her first Ironman, then Bert Kelly smiling and hanging tough, then Lizz Nelson looking like she was enjoying her first Ironman. I ran by Angie, felt uplifted, and set out for lap two. Then a huge blister on the pad of my right foot burst........and it freakin hurt something fierce. I had a quick vision of me walking the last 11 miles, but had the idea of popping a couple Hammer Nutrition Energy Surge tabs - whether they work or not, I'd have been happy just to get a placebo affect.

Getting ready to turn on to the second run lap.

Then I saw Emily Blum, another Tricredible, up ahead and that gave me a short term goal to shoot for. I gradually made up ground on her, and eventually caught her at an aid station. She grabbed a cup of water from a volunteer, and I grabbed the other one from the same volunteer without Emily even knowing I was close enough to tug on her jersey. Then, and this was actually good timing, I felt everything in my stomach drop straight down to my sphinctor. I ducked into the portajohn mildly frustrated.

With a new lightness about me, I set back out in search of Emily - my rabbit to chase all over again! I caught her again at about mile 18 or 19, and this time ran alongside her. Another big blister on my other foot had now burst and was causing some pain, but somehow or another I didn't seem to care. At some point she suggested I go on ahead, as the pace we were running was maybe a little faster than she wanted to go. I thought she had been setting the pace!

At mile 21 and on my way back to the finish line I should have been falling apart. Emily had kept my mind off of this for the last few miles. Now, as I was scanning the runners behind me approaching the 20 mile mark turnaround, I noticed George Worrel - a phenomenal triathlete and all-around awesome dude. What was he doing behind me?!?! I figured he had one helluva story to tell and was impressed that he was still racing despite surely knowing he was capable of slaughtering me and most everyone else out there.

Then, right behind him, I recognized a guy that dated Tricredible Ellen Hanley. He was a Marine Prowler pilot, which I thought was really cool, but he was a bit of a jerk to my Tricredible friend Ellen, so.........I showed him my afterburners! I told Emily I was gonna try to push it to the finish line, and I sped up. I was not gonna let that guy catch me.

I skipped all the rest of the aid stations, and as tired as I was I felt like I was flying. After the fact, I've since learned that I wasn't, but I was at least maintaining a pace where I should have been breaking down.

I ran a 3:52 marathon, not at all as fast as I had hoped I would do. But it was everything I had. I came down the finishing chute, saw Angie and my mom, and gave them a high five just before crossing the line. This race had taken me 10:40:37. Nowhere near a Kona slot, and I don't know how or when I'll ever get one. But I was happy. It was a tough day and I had given it everything.

Thanks to Karen and Rob for having these awesome signs waiting for us on our lawns when we came home. That's trespassing, you know.........!

A bad blistah!!!!!

A couple notes to self regarding things that worked and things that didn't:

I didn't practice jumping in the water with my goggles on. I leaned back so as to protect them from leaking, but this caused the straps to ride up my head and very quickly I was taking on water and had to adjust them.

My swim cap kept riding up my noggin. I'm not sure what causes this.....perhaps no hair? I had to stop several times to yank it back down.

The Point.03 swim skin really crushed my boys. Not sure what to do about that in the future.

The Tic-Tac case I used to hold salt tabs and AF tabs on the bike worked okay, but when the door was slid open the tabs tended to want to bounce out.

The coin purse I used to hold my tabs on the run did take on some moisture. It held the water/sweat off just long enough for me to get the tabs in I needed. I chucked it once it was empty (mile 22).

Not sure if the ATP tablets helped any, but they took my mind off of my blister when I popped them. May as well roll with these even if it's just for a placebo affect.

3 EFS gel flasks was my limit. I took a hit off the fourth one after getting my run special needs bag, but I gagged and tossed the thing away.

The all liquid diet worked superbly. Firm believer that solids are not necessary for this distance.

A last minute decision I made was to stuff an Olbas menthol inhaler in my run special needs bag. This thing was great! What a burst of fresh energy I felt when I snorted it up!

My First Ironman: Ironman CDA 08

2009-01-02T09:28:00.000-05:00

2.4 mi swim, 112 mi bike, 26.2 mi run

Coeur d’Alene, ID

June 22,2008

“Bruce Richter, you are an Ironman!!!!!” Pretty cool to hear those words, though I have to be honest……I didn’t. I was a little caught up in the moment.

Got the shirt. Got the finisher medal.

It all started well enough – a beautiful drive north from Boise to Coeur d’Alene was a great way to take my mind off the pain of the race to come. In fact, it must have worked really well, because I don’t recall ever experiencing the typical pre-race jitters. The lack of these varmints though is most probably a result of sticking to THE PLAN. A tough pill to swallow, THE PLAN was to enjoy my first Ironman, not race it. Let the swim be the swim, take it easy on the bike (blasphemy!), and hope there’s enough left in the tank to enjoy the marathon. In other words, I fully planned for this to be a learning event, and well, basically to go ahead and get schooled as a newbie.

THE PLAN was never really in jeopardy, although I will admit that 2 days before the event as I took in the flavor of downtown CDA amongst the other triathletes in town, I found myself sizing myself up against the others. They were everywhere with their veins popping out under last year’s Ironman Somewhere Bruce Hasn’t Been shirts……and I really wanted to beat them all. Those couple days hanging out in CDA before the race were starting to wear me down a bit. I just wanted to toe the start line and get this thing underway.

The night before the race, I woke up from a surprisingly deep sleep to hear the wind howling and rain hitting the hotel window. Just a passing storm but I still worried about my poor Cervelo P3C racked up in the exposed transition area without even a food bowl or water. By race morning, we had the makings of a perfect day for an Ironman. Temps were to be in the mid-70’s and the water was ready to welcome us with a “balmy” 59.5 degrees. Neoprene caps were recommended, and the ban on neoprene booties was lifted due to the water temperatures. I thought I’d do without. But before I get to how race day unfolded, I gotta give a shout out to the cast of characters that supported the act of idiocy that was to be my first Ironman.

Me and Desiree Ficker (IM Kona 2^nd Place 2006)

I have to say, my support team was about as good as it gets. My parents were there as well as my sister Cindy and her family. What an amazing team I had representing the Tricredibles of NC in Claire, Emily, and Lizz (from henceforth, I’ll put a spin on a popular moniker and call these three Clemilizz). From the “Team Bruce” shirts to the chalked streets (that I actually paid attention to for once!), the beer at the finish line and the carrying of my sweaty gear, Clemilizz is a class act that will get you noticed in the crowd that races and watches the Ironman. Don’t invite them to your next Ironman if you want to race in anonymity.

There was one other there giving me support and I bet you thought I was forgetting. My good friend, Carl Bonner, once told me you can’t do an Ironman on your own. (Wise words from a man that gets turned on by hearing his daughter ask me what color panties I’m wearing everyday.) In my case, it takes an amazing wife to make something like this happen, and even though they gave me the finisher medal, Angie is more of an Ironman than I’ll ever be. This was a true team effort.

Claire, Emily, Lizz, and Angie in their Team Bruce shirts.

As long as they walked in order, folks seemed to get it.

An original work of art from the artist formerly known as Claire. (Shirts designed and made by Lizz by the way)

So, with the aforementioned support crew in proper position, a whole lot of training mileage and receipts behind me, I toed that Ironman line on the beach of Lake Coeur d’Alene. The swim plan was to start on the side, way off the popular line to the buoys and attempt to cut across the slower swimmers and miraculously find myself in clean water where I wouldn’t be trading left hooks and jabs with the masses……of which there were over 2000 by the way. I started well to the right of the crowd, but still in the mix and about 3 people back with my feet already in the frigid water. The moment that gun went off I regretted my choice of position. I was getting beat up and was inadvertently returning the favor. There was no way around it. To make matters worse, my goggles were leaking, and in that crowd there was no way to stop for fear of being run over. How the lifeguards, of which there are many, can possibly save you in that craziness would have to be proven to me. It was just downright dangerous and I wanted out of it.

That’s me 1037^th from the left if you care to count.

I veered outside for cleaner water realizing I was heading for a longer swim. I still never got out of that crowd on the two laps in the water, and my feet were pretty much numb….but I was alive and Merle III (that’s the P3C) was getting antsy. What a welcome feeling to stand on dry land after that lunacy.

The baldy has left the water.

Transition from swim to bike was a little bit of an experience. People yelling in all directions, fetch your bag of bike gear, run into the tent, still people yelling at you, sit down and gear up…..what a well organized mess this thing was!

Passing the hot tub woosies in T1.

It had been a while since I had been on my bike, since Merle III arrived in CDA a good week before I did. I missed it. I hated to have to pedal slow (in many cases, not at all) but I had to stick to THE PLAN. I didn’t get very far into the ride before my old nemesis came a-callin’…….I hadn’t mastered the Pissing on the Fly Trick. Only this time, the other end wanted to come out and play too. Okay, it’s not like I’m out here in a rush anyway I thought, so I ducked into a Porta John.

Happy to be cycling again.

That Korean space shuttle wasn’t positioned very well, by the way. It was on a rather steep shoulder, and I felt if I leaned back at all the whole thing was gonna tumble down the hill and leave me covered in blue and brown ick. Some things have a way of working out though.

I eased through that bike course as much as I could. I wasn’t thrilled to be passed so often by so many. But the hills at least weren’t bad. One particular German guy seemed to want to make sure I didn’t leave him on the bike. Every downhill he’d whiz by me only to get dropped on the next climb. I was tempted to get the handoff from a particular fan that was handing out cups of beer from his driveway. Even without that beer, I think I stopped to pee another 2 or 3 times. Yeah, stopped. As odd as it sounds, I SO wanted to pee myself just so I could roar by my friends and family and shout out my accomplishment but I guess years of figuring out how to hold it all in for fear of getting a spanking was not easily undone.

To make matters worse, I passed a chick on the way in from the second bike loop who – as if she knew my dilemma and just wanted to rub it in – hollered out to me, “I just figured out how to pee myself on the bike!” Whoopee for you and I hope it stings.

Blowing Angie a kiss.

There really was an awful lot of drafting out there. I hope they’re proud of themselves for sucking wheel. I knew I was riding my own ride, but I was startled to be approached by a race referee on a motorcycle only to hear him say, “Boy, you sure do have an awesome fan club! They’re everywhere!” Thanks family and Clemilizz!

Off the bike, I was not happy to find my running shoes and socks completely soaked from last night’s rain. But the running legs were fresh. I ran through town amongst cheers for the Tricredibles and people yelling my name as if I was someone special. That is some pretty motivating stuff. Clemelizz had done a spectacular job of chalking the streets.

Claire’s best side.

Usually so in the zone I don’t notice these kinds of things, I have to say I caught every sign and every piece of chalk art the girls put out there for me……and it was great!

Is that Adolph on the sidelines?!?

At about mile 8 I passed a volunteer in a feeding zone offering a paper plate full of Vaseline. I barely had finished the thought of wondering who would bother with that crap when I felt a blister on the pad of my left foot pop. Hmmm, I guess I better see him on the way back. He was nice enough to let me brace myself using his shoulder as I peeled off my sweaty shoe and sock. I plunged my hand in his plate of goo and slathered it on my foot. Then I took what was left on my hand and ran it across my chapped lips for good measure. Unfortunately, whoever used the Vaseline before me left a pubic hair in it that had inadvertently found its way to my upper lip. Oh well, there’s no shame in Ironman. I secretly hoped it was Desiree Ficker’s, but I’m pretty sure it belonged to the fat German guy from the bike leg.

On my way into town on the first run lap, I got passed by 2^nd place overall Heather Gollnick following her protective mountain bike way-paver. I said something along the lines of “way to go Heather” as I reveled in the fact that she couldn’t tell I was looking at her butt. She asked, “Can you…….pant, pant……see a……pant, pant……mountain bike like this one behind me?” Normally when I hear tired competitors ask me something while they’re breathing really hard I like to say, “What?” just to make them struggle to ask again, but THE PLAN did not dictate playing head games……..especially with a woman that was 2 hours ahead of me clearly making me her “beyotch.” I told her honestly, “no.” I like to think I played a small hand in her second place finish that day. (aw come on, give me a little taste of glory, will ya?)

At one particular feed station that had a duck theme for some reason, they were playing that Crazy Frog song. I spent the rest of the marathon singing to myself ,”DING ding ding DING DING!” over and over again. Not my favorite song, but I find that a run always goes better when I have some sort of beat to sing to myself.

My legs started to feel tired around mile 17, but I was happy that I didn’t feel the need to walk. I did walk briskly through the last few feed stations, but once I had fueled up I was up and running again. I remember thinking as I finished the last 5 miles by the lake that I would miss this view and all it took to get here, and I vowed to enjoy every step of the way back to town.

With the finish line in sight!

I won’t say I didn’t have any pain in my legs as I watched that finish line draw closer on the home stretch, but it’s hard to notice when the streets are lined with thousands of people cheering you on. I was gaining on a couple folks down that stretch, but thought it’d be better to maintain the gap, let them have their finish line moment of glory, and maybe get a chance to have mine. Unfortunately, two geeks came flying by me in the finishing chute and stole my glory (I know their race numbers and will look out for them next time!). But I didn’t care, after 1:11:14 in the swim, 6:07:30 on the bike, and 3:58:23 on the run (11:24:38 total) I was now an Ironman!!!!

Family and friends were all there to high five me. I was glad to be done, and I know they were too. I was fully aware that it was there dinner time and I had made them all get up in the middle of the night to sit and cheer me on for nearly 12 hours. Ironman is pretty much an act of selfishness and I was eager for things to be normal again. Besides it was Claire’s birthday and we had a cake to eat!

It ain’t gold but it’s close!

I’ve met a lot of great people in this sport and I love the family that I’ve developed in triathlon. So I gotta give props to my coach. I never really planned to hire one, but somehow it seemed right……and I wouldn’t change a thing. Coach Lance Leo was spot on in all his training plans and advice, is a great friend, and an inspiring athlete himself. As I told Lance before the race, I could have done this thing without him, but if that Bruce had shown up at this race this Bruce would have owned him.

The Richter’s in Tricred Red. L to R: Nephew Sean, Niece Annie, Bruce, Daddy Ron, Sister Cindy, Mommy Ruth, Bro in Law Mark, Nephew Drew, and Wife Angie.

Angie, Claire, Bruce, Bruce’s beer, Lizz, and Emily.

I can understand how some people do their first Ironman and are satisfied with that, but not me. I can’t wait to do another one, and this wasn’t a thought that needed to grow on me in these couple days after Ironman Coeur d’Alene. I’d have told you that the moment I crossed that finish line. I am frothing at the mouth to train hard for another, toe that line hungry, and race it firing on all cylinders. That is…..if my wonderful wife will let me!

IronAngie and IronBruce.

Richter………OUT!

OBX Marathon 08

2009-01-02T09:25:00.000-05:00

OK, here’s the play by play.

I guess I’m happy enough that I PR’d, but it could have gone better! I had a horrible taper, missing all my usual preferred easy taper workouts and confidence builders, work was a fiasco last week standing all day on some new projects, and I even messed up my shoulder Friday doing some repetitive motion stuff. All sad excuses, but as a wannabe athlete it’s important to preface a story about your failures with a list of circumstances that don’t include the fact that you just plain old suck. So, by Friday night I was talking about not even running the marathon til Angie basically told me to tuck the string in and do it.

I woke up Sunday morning to a horribly sore shoulder – I couldn’t swing it in a running fashion any further aft than the plane of my torso. Not good. Plus, I had the “squirts.”

I told myself I would run at my target 3:15 goal marathon pace (even though I wasn’t sure I could even do it that fast), which is 7:30/mi, and if I gave out somewhere on the course early and had to quit then I could live with that. I set out with the GPS Forerunner to monitor pace and was clipping along a little fast at a 7:12ish pace for the first 5 miles. Too fast but it felt good, and the thought of banking some time early was rather appealing. Angie was there at mile 5 and I had told her that that would be the first chance to communicate to her that this 3:15 thing was actually doable. I gave her the thumbs up.

At mile 10 you enter the Nags Head Woods trail – where they have a very popular and tough 5k every year. This section tears you up mentally cuz it ruins your rhythm, it’s undulating and soft packed, and the last mile of it is on new mulch and the terrain is like running over a bmx course. I had prepared myself to lose major time in here and come out a little off the targeted 7:30 average pace. But I came out of those woods holding on at 7:27 average for the now 13 miles of running at that point.

It took about a half mile to regain my rhythm but I was doing well. At mile 18 I saw Angie again, the GPS said my average was now 7:29, and I could tell I was slowing down. I motioned for her to run with me for a sec and I told her 3:15 was out and I was now looking for a 3:20. She told me to stay positive. I picked up the pace and passed about 5 guys that had dropped me in the wood section. Clearly the hurting was affecting all of us.

At mile 20 – as you know, the halfway point – the wheels came off. I was still on target for a 3:15 marathon with the GPS saying my average was a 7:31 pace though. I was unglued and staring at the tall bridge that takes you back west onto Roanoke Island and the town of Manteo. My first year here, I walked that bridge. My second year, I ran up it like it was nothing. I questioned whether I could run it this time. I did, by looking straight down so as not to see how much of it was still ahead of me. I was running 8:30’s, then 9:00’s, then even slower. On the long straightaway into Manteo, I stopped to walk a few steps. Both legs buckled a la Paula Newbie Frazier and I went dizzy for just a sec. Whoa. It was hot, and my heart rate was racing. Walk to that 24 mi sign and then you can start running again.

I was now merely jogging and suffering miserably. I was however aware that the shoulder had not bothered me since I started the run 24 miles ago. I fixed it! The perfect cure to an ailment. Just run a marathon!

I ran by some spectator friends of Angie’s and mumbled “not feeling so swift” and they later told Angie I looked really pale. I saw Angie with about .25 miles to go and didn’t have the strength to smile or wave or anything. I distinctly remember clenching my teeth in pain at that point.

I crossed the line at 3:25:21, an 11 minute PR, and bent over in pain. A volunteer put her arms around me and before she could even ask I said, “I’m alright.” She said, “I know, but this is my job and let’s walk together.” She would not let me go, and helped me get the finisher medal on, the chip strap off, some water, and over to the food tent. I let a peanut butter sandwich hang in my mouth and sat on the asphalt for a while.

I had a thought during the grueling marathon leg of my Ironman earlier this year: if, when I did this fall marathon, I thought for once that doing “just a” marathon was tough or that it hurt I would personally kick my own butt. I have to admit, lately I’ve had the perception that after an Ironman, there isn’t much to a plain old marathon. That’s all wrong. A marathon still requires a badass chunk of respect to take on.

Oh yeah, and the shoulder pain came back immediately. I think I had forgotten that pain when other pains started in other regions of the body.