Oilman 2013–a No Show

I suspect that my title tells it all, I had a race yesterday and I didn’t show up.  I didn’t forget, oversleep, and yes I remembered about daylight savings.  While there were a lot of little things that contributed to my decision to not race, it really came down to the temperature.  When we left the area, at 8 am when I expected to be getting on the bike, my phone said it was 46.  It was just too cold for me to get on a bike going 20 mph, soaking wet, wearing a T-shirt and shorts.

That said, I still learned a lot!  This was supposed to be a B- race, a hard training day, and I prepared for a training day.  Lesson #1, for me a race is a race.  Prepare for it just the same.  I participated in a group activity the morning before, which ran late, causing me to miss the race talk.  I don’t normally go to those any more because they are so redundant, but as this was my first aqua-bike I should have gone.  Not knowing how it would work un-nerved me some.

If a race is an hour or more drive from the house I normally get a hotel for the night.  I waited so long to get a room that the closest hotels were all sold out.  My hotel, which looked close on the map, was a 30 minute drive.  In reality, that wasn’t worth it, especially considering how the weather played out.

I should have thought more about the impact of the cold on my race.  I knew it was going to be cold, but I just didn’t think about how cold that was.  I’ve got a personal temperature limit for biking of about 45, and that’s wearing all of my cold weather gear.  The only extra I brought with me for the race were arm warmers; no gloves, head covering, knee or leg warmers.

I always get a haircut pre-race.  This time, because it was supposed to be a hard-training day I didn’t.  That started to mess with my head a bit, I didn’t feel prepared.

I’d also forgotten to bring Melatonin, so I didn’t sleep well the night before, not all that abnormal but always irritating.  Around 2 am I starting thinking about it being too cold.  I kept checking the temperature on my phone, which was set for my home address.  By 3 am I decided to skip the race, thinking I would finally fall asleep.  About 10 minutes later I turned off my alarm, had my wife do the same, and that was it.  I still didn’t fall asleep though.

When we got up that morning, around 8 am, I realized I’d been checking the temperature at my home address.  When I changed it to the local area I found the temperature was 39.  I wish I’d realized my mistake in the middle of the night as it would have made my decision much easier, and I’d have done it sooner.

So with all that in mind, what have/will I do differently?  To start with I’ve already booked hotel rooms for all the out of town races I think I will do next year.  The rest, well we will see…

Product review–Gyro Air Attack Shield

This is my first product review I’ve done.  I’m not sure how qualified I am to do this, though I am pretty particular about the products I use.  Here is a little background first.

I train in a Specialized S-works, your typical roadie helmet.  It’s a helmet – I don’t really have anything good or bad to say about it.  I’ve been racing in a (black) Gyro Advantage 2.  The Gyro always made me nervous because I assumed the black would absorb some heat, and heat has been a factor for me.  Also, the Gyro doesn’t have a lot of ventilation.  I don’t know that it was ever a problem, but it did make the think about it before each race.

I’d seen a lot of buzz about the new Air Attack.  What I really liked was that it was more ventilated than the Advantage, and had some special channels inside to funnel the air over your head.  While the shape was more traditional and less likely to draw attention, it was supposed to be more aerodynamic.

I fell in love with the Air Attack when I first tried it on in the store.  It is VERY comfortable!  I went with the white version which will at least make me think it is cooler than my old black one.

Unlike my Advantage, the Air Attack doesn’t cover my ears, allowing me to hear my surroundings better.  While that’s not yet been a problem during a race, there is always a first time, and it could have had bad results.

My first ride with the new helmet:

Yesterday I went out for a 3 hour, 50-60 mile ride.  It was in the low 80’s to start with and a lot of moisture in the air.  When I put on my helmet, the shield was fogged from having been in the A/C.  No problem, I flipped the shield over and rode for a bit without it.  Score one for the Air Attack.  A few miles down the road I tried to flip the shield over while riding and couldn’t get the magnets to attach, forcing me to pull over.  This is a training/practice issue on my part.

Right away I noticed that I’d gotten fingerprints all over the shield.  I ‘m careful about that with my glasses, but didn’t think about it with the shield.  With such a large viewing area you need to be careful where you touch!

Going again, I could see drops of moisture forming on the leading edge of my helmet, which eventually dropped down to my visor.  Two things happened:  The visor snapped into place when I bumped it (I hadn’t gotten it on right) and the drop was on the inside so I couldn’t clear it.  I should note that once properly in place I didn’t have any more problems with drops of water inside the shield.

As I’m riding along I took a real hard look at the helmet and how it felt.  First off it was still very comfortable.  I don’t think I’ve ever worn one this comfortable.  Second, I could actually feel two tracks of air flowing over my head.  This was pretty cooling, though I would have liked more of them!  It was hot out there, and while I had sweat dripping off my chin my head never felt hot.

Then the rain came.  The visor did a good job of allowing me to see until the rain got too hard.  It was easy to wipe the surface clear, probably much easier than it would be with glasses.  Once the rain stopped, the visor cleared up.  I didn’t notice any spots or streaking.

Summary

In short I LOVE the Air Attack.  The flippable visor is a great idea and the cooling vents do work.  It is the most comfortable helmet I’ve ever worn.  It weighs a bit more than my roadie helmet, but less than my old Gyro.

There is an adjustment on the helmet to raise it up/down on your head.  My next test is to play with that and see if that makes a difference in the air flow.

Knowing what I know now, I would definitely buy the Air Attack!

The best way to end the month

September was a busy month.  I’d started off with only one scheduled race.  Then at the last minute I added another, shorter one, to help ease my jitters.  When that went ok, I jumped in with both feet and decided to take on a new challenge:  two races in one weekend on back to back days.

My coach “allowed” me to register for both with the understanding that I would race the sprint (the Saturday race), and then use the longer Sunday race as a training day.  The trick would be proper recovery in between the races, and then good pacing on Sunday to avoid a blow-up.

Saturday went off exactly as planned, minus a slight problem removing my wetsuit after the swim.  I actually finished a couple of minutes faster than I’d projected and ended up winning second place.  I thought I’d done fairly well on the swim, and never saw anyone else in my age group the rest of the race.  I honestly thought I might have won.  Unfortunately someone snuck by me somewhere on the run and I missed the top prize by 20 seconds.  I’m still very happy with my results.  It’s worth noting that my time was only 2 minutes off my pace from 2 years ago when I was in top form, and most of that time was lost in the swim.  This is a very good sign for things to come!

The problem was that now I stuck around at the finish line to cheer on the rest of my clan (we had four more family members racing) and then for the awards.  What I was supposed to do was get my stuff and get home to eat, rest and get ready for Sunday.  It was probably noon before I got home – not good considering I’d finished at 9.  Then I felt sluggish the rest of the day.  I was exhausted and my legs were tired, I just had no energy.

Sunday morning I was a bit better but certainly didn’t feel as fresh as I had on Saturday.  To make it worse it was cold, windy, wet and drizzling outside.  I’d decided to wear my short sleeved wetsuit to avoid the problems from Saturday and regretted it.  I even checked the time to see if I had time to rush back home and get the other one.

The closer it got to my wave start the less I wanted to be there.  I thought about packing up my stuff and going home, that’s how much I wasn’t into it.  When they called my wave I told my wife bye and just did the motions to get started.  In hindsight it felt like going to a swim workout:  if I could just get in the water and get going everything would be fine.

Because this was just supposed to be a workout I started at the back of my swim group.  That was a bit of a problem because I had to fight my way through and around the slower swimmers.  I tried to draft some but felt badly when I kept hitting the feet of the guy in front of me and moved around.  I wished the guy behind me would have done the same instead of pounding my calves!  I finally found some space and then tried to work on my stroke (remembering it was just a workout).  I found out that if I slowed my cadence I could hold form better and actually thought I was going faster.  I wish I could have unconsciously kept that going, alas every time my mind wandered my stroke reverted to the old style.

I came out of the swim actually feeling pretty good about where I was, thinking I might be near the front of my age group.  I quickly jumped on my bike (I did have the best transitions!) and started pounding it.  It was sort of an out and back, and the previous day there was a headwind on the outbound leg.  That thrilled me as I was going pretty fast and hard.  Despite looking I never saw any wind signs, making me think I was just having a great day, not that there was a tail wind pushing me along.  Also, I passed so many people I just knew I was having a good day.  Until we turned around and ran into the wind.  I focused on keeping myself small and pushing through it.  Before long I was trading my bike for my running shoes.

Heading out on the run I saw my Dad who told me I was ahead of schedule.  Well, I thought, no need to rush out there for my next training leg.  I stopped and made a smart remark about taking a break, only to get weird looks from other people standing around.  For the first 4 miles things went just like they had the previous day:  run to the aid stations and walk briefly while I dumped water over my head, repeat.  About that time I just ran out of gas.  I allowed myself to walk, but only long enough to get my HR down a bit and slow my breathing before I’d start it up again.  I think I walked 4 extra times in those last 2.5 miles, only on the flats though.  I forced myself to run up and down the hills.  I should add that when I was just going out on my second loop of the run I heard them announce a 50 year old finishing.  While I thought that maybe I was near the front, that told me I really wasn’t.

I was really tired when I was done.  I‘d gone harder than I expected I’d be able to, and while I’d been forced to walk several times, they weren’t an endless walk like I’ve done before.  They were walk to that sign and then you have to run again.  I was really pleased with my workout, but too tired to find out how I did.  I sent my wife to check it out and almost died when she told me I’d gotten third!  I’m more proud of that third place than I am of my second place the previous day.

I think this weekend bodes well for what might be next year!  After 4 races in 5 weeks I’m a bit worn down and ready for some down time and then to get back at it.  No more races for a month!

Back on the podium

Another weekend in September means another race, this time a small local triathlon put on by my favorite Tri shop and race director.  I hadn’t planned on doing this many races because I didn’t want to get a national ranking that might depress me.  However, someone convinced me that I should get a ranking so I can see where I am this year and compare it to next year.  Besides, I had so much fun at my last triathlon I could hardly stay away!

This was a weird race/distance, at least to me.  The swim and run, at 500 yards and 3.1 miles, were consistent with a sprint, but the bike leg was long at 21 miles.  That would be the furthest I’d raced on a bike since April 2012, and I wasn’t sure I would be able to post the type of results I had on the shorter courses.  Fortunately that distracted me from the swim, which while it wasn’t long, it was the longest OWS without a wetsuit I’d done since my disaster at Lake Pflugerville 2 years ago.

Like I mentioned previously, the race director is a good friend, so I volunteered to help with packet pickup – the only place where I could help since I was racing.  Next thing I knew they had me signed up to work there two full days before the race.  That was going to interfere some with my normal pre-race hydration and resting.  I showed up the first day and there were no chairs for us to sit in.  After standing for nearly 13 hours in two days my legs were tired and my joints all hurt.  Not the pre-race I would have picked!

I got there race morning, checked in, set up, and hung out with all my new friends I’d made during packet pick-up.  It seemed like everyone knew my name!  We finally made it out to the swim start to see the course and it sure looked long to me.  I remembered just now that they always look long to me, and with 500 yards being about one lap on the track it probably was accurate.

I was in the last wave, which meant I wouldn’t have people running over me from behind.  I took my spot in about the middle of the pack, and we left.  I started off doing the new stroke I’ve been working on in practice.  I started to digress after about 100 yards and by the halfway point as those muscles got tired I completely reverted to my old style.  I also noticed at about this time that there were very few people around me.  I saw one guy that was doing the breast stroke ahead of me, which got me thinking I was pretty far back in the pack.  As we made the final turn in to the exit I started seeing green swim caps from the previous  wave.  It sounds sexist, but it was a female wave and I didn’t  think much about it.  Especially when I hit the lap counter on my watch and it said I had taken more than 12 minutes.  I was way back in the pack.

We climbed out of the water, and I congratulated the only other swimmer I saw with my color cap (as I passed him on the way to transition).  I was broken hearted when I got there as it was almost completely empty.  I was focused on my bike and getting there and swore I only saw about 5 bikes.  I knew I had a lot of ground to make up!

I got out on the bike and was determined to catch some of the people who had left me behind on the swim.  The only problem was that there was no one in sight.  I rode as hard as I could but my pace was off from the previous races, especially when we came to the chip-seal section.  Finally around mile 16 we got some favorable conditions and it showed.  I was, for a long period of time, holding over 27 mph.  With a few miles out I started calculating my estimated bike split at somewhere between 1:03 and 1:05 or around 20 mph.  As we made the final turn I realized I’d miscounted the miles and I was going to finish in under an hour!

Before I forget, I saw one or two of my age groupers on the bike which shocked me.  I figured I was WAY behind.  On the other hand, I passed a lot of people and not a single person passed me.

I had a great transition, buoyed by one of my new friends that had done the swim portion of a relay, and was pretty quickly out on the run.  With the longer bike I figured I would be slower than the previous week.  Unlike the previous week though I started running immediately upon leaving my bike.

I tried to distract myself by looking around at the course which was supposed to be beautiful.  I suspect it was, though at the time all I saw was grass, trees, and a long path for me to follow.  I passed a bunch of people on the run, stopping at each aid station only long enough to pour a cup of water over my head.  At the second aid station I grabbed two cups, one for my head and one for a drink.  I took one sip, which went down the wrong way and I started coughing and almost threw up.  It was at that point that someone caught up to me.  He said he had been chasing me since the 5 mile mark on the bike.  I was feeling pretty tired, so when he told me he wasn’t in my age group (he was 57) I told him not to let me slow him down.  Then for whatever reason he started to fall back.  He later told me that he’d used everything he had to catch me and just couldn’t hang on.

As we got close to the finish line I heard people cheering for Rick, telling him that the gap was only 100 yards.  If they were talking about  someone catching me, that wasn’t going to happen without him putting in a whole lot of effort so I really kicked in the afterburners.  I turned to look when they announced Rick was finishing, and it was the guy who had tailed me for so long.  He ended up winning his bracket.  He’d better watch out for next year when I age  up!

After a long delay due to athletes accidentally placed in the wrong brackets they announced the winners.  I was surprised to see I took 3rd, mostly because of my lousy swim and because I never saw anyone else from my bracket out on the course.  It turns out that they were all behind me!

In speaking with my coach this is something I need to get used to as I’m only going to get faster.  It’s been 15 months since I had my injury, 6 months since surgery, and 5 months since my first run.  I look at where I am now, with such little training and wonder what the limit is.  If this continues, last Sunday won’t be the last podium for me!

Towne Lake Triathlon 2013

This race almost didn’t happen.  It wasn’t on the schedule, and I didn’t realize when it was until someone told me about it less than a week before the race.  I thought about it, had a brief (text) conversation with my coach, and decided it would be good for me.

The real reason I wanted to do the race was to get comfortable in the open water without a wetsuit.  I’ve only done two races that weren’t wetsuit legal, and the last was a disaster.  While I can comfortably swim 3000+ yards in the pool, I get very anxious in the open water, and have for a couple of years, since that last race, questioned my abilities.  So, I wanted to get back in the water on a shorter distance and prove to myself that I can do this.

Because I took the race on such short notice, there wasn’t time to adjust my training or get antsy about the race.  I trained very hard up until two days before the race.  Then I snuck in a short swim in an endless pool.  I think that was good for me as I was able to swim non-stop for some time.  Having the ability to stand up if I needed to kept me calm and I was able to convince myself that not being able to catch that extra breath at the end of each length of the pool didn’t matter.

Jumping forward to the race: Swim

This was a deep water start.  As I didn’t want to tread water for several minutes before the race I chose to stand in chest deep water until the gun went off.  That put me at the back of the pack and not crossing the starting line for probably 30 seconds.  I don’t/didn’t care about the 30 seconds, but the “back of the pack” was a problem.  There were a bunch of non-swimmers in front of me.  They would get in a pack, stop, and block my path so I kept running into them.  One time I actually swam up one guy’s back before I realized what was happening.  I just kept telling myself to relax and keep it easy.  I could tell my legs were dropping, but since it wasn’t really causing any problems I didn’t worry about it.  Besides, there wasn’t much I could do about it anyway. 

The final leg was into the sun, which made it difficult to see the exit.  I just  kept an eye on the people around me and tried to stay near them.  The exit was so steep I had to get help getting out of the water, and then staggered up the slope for the long (they said 1/4 mile, but I think it was MUCH longer) run to transition.  I remembered to hit the lap button on my watch and checked the time, only to see a scrolling screen I’d never seen before.  So much for knowing my swim time!  I’d opted to leave some shoes on the road for this run, not wanting to risk stepping on something.  This really helped as I ended up with one of the fastest T1 times in my group.

Bike

Jumping out on the bike I had a simple plan:  go hard and fast!  If I couldn’t run when I was done then so be it, at least I would have had a good bike leg.  For most of this leg the sun was reflecting off the screen of my bike computer, and all I could read was my power.  I could tell when my cadence was 3 digits instead of two.  Every now and then I’d be able to see the distance and speed, but not often enough to be of much use.  Since my Garmin wasn’t working and I couldn’t read my bike computer I went by feel:  how hard could I push and still finish.

I didn’t keep track, but I think I was passed by 4 riders.  On the flip side I passed a TON of people.  I was really flying!  I couldn’t hear it but I was hoping that my rear disk was making the whirring, train sound I used to hear when riders with a disk would pass.  For the most part I stayed in the left side of the lane because there were just too many people I was passing for me to move back and forth.  That said, I did get passed one and looked down to see how I was doing and I was going over 23 mph.  That guy was moving!

I hesitate to mention this as I’m trying to not be competitive, but I am.  When I first got onto the bike course I saw a friend of mine.  He was just starting his second loop for the Olympic distance.  I knew he was riding twice as far as I and it isn’t a fair comparison, and he hasn’t been training, but he’s also an ex-marine and more than 20 years younger than I.  He was in front of me and there was no way I was going to let him beat me!  I really pushed it so I could pass him and then kept going hard.  He was just like everybody else I torched on the bike!

Run

The moment of truth, how would I fare after pushing so hard on the bike?  I grabbed my stuff and started out of transition.  I walked for a bit just to get my heart rate down a bit, and then took off.  I fiddled, to no avail, with my watch a bit trying to get it going so I’d have an idea of the run time or elapsed distance.  I finally gave up on it and decided I’d just have to run by feel.  I took stock and thought I was going a bit fast for me to run the whole way.  There were a couple of times I was breathing too hard and forced myself to slow down.  I kind of figured I was running at about 10 minute mile pace.  I was bummed, but figured that was better than walking and just kept going.

I did walk a couple of times:  once to take a gel (I used to be able to do that while running) and at the aid stations, just long enough to accurately dump water over my head.  I can’t imagine that it was more than 30 seconds total, so I don’t count it as walking.

When we got close to the finish line there was one guy in front of me and no one behind me.  I didn’t know if I could catch him, but there was enough room for me to try.  I picked up the pace, and so did he.  I kept increasing my speed but the gap never closed.  At least I had a good finish!

In the end

With no working computers I had no idea how I’d done and it wasn’t until much later in the day that I saw my results.  5th (out of 22) in my age group, with a bike speed of 21.8 and run pace of 8:05.  I will definitely take those results!  I’ve never ridden that fast before, and to be able to run that well off the bike was surprising.  All of this with just a few months of training – most of which has been pretty low key since I’m coming off an injury.

What is going to happen when I start training hard and with a purpose?  I could be good at this!

p.s.

I should add that I had a blast at this race!  I was frustrated some on the swim, but it was awesome on the bike passing so many people.  The run, which could have been less than pleasant felt great.  I think that after so many months of not being able to train/race I am even more grateful for being able to get out there and participate in the sport that I love!

Leadville–an off road experience

Preamble

Ever since falling on a trail run 2+ years ago I’ve avoided all off road runs like the plague.  I’ve even skipped most triathlons where part of the road is trail.  The risk of injury just wasn’t worth it any more.

That all changed with my injury last summer.  I did extensive therapy to strengthen my ankle (and did both while I was at it).  I felt my ankles were better than pre-injury, so maybe off-road would be ok.  Plus, I wanted to do something different where I wouldn’t put so much pressure in myself to perform.  That’s where the Leadville Trail 10K came into play.

Pre-race

Before arriving in Colorado for the race, I was mostly worried about the hills – the profile looked pretty bad.  Then I did a couple days of pre-race runs at 8800 feet (much lower than race level) and I discovered that I couldn’t run very far without running out of wind.  As a matter of fact, depending on how hard I ran I could only manage 1-5 minutes without having to stop and walk.  Now I was pretty freaked out, but decided this would be a run/walk event.  Still, lying in bed the night before the race I somehow came up with a projected finish time (No pressure, right??)

Fast forward to race time

The starting gun went off, and I deliberately hung back to let most of the racers go ahead of me.  I figured this way I would have fewer people passing and demoralizing me.  The race started with a short downhill and then into our first hill.  I was almost immediately winded, going downhill!  I told myself this was a bad idea:  I wasn’t ready to race this distance, I wasn’t acclimated and hadn’t done enough hill work.  I started composing an email to my coach telling her how I wanted to pull out of all racing until I was more ready.  I really had a lot of negative thoughts going through my head.  Then something happened…

I heard lots of yelling and realized it was my fellow racers.  They were just excited to be there and were having fun!  What a novel idea, have fun at a race.  I wish I could explain what happened, but something changed and I decided to have fun myself.  I didn’t worry about rude runners, conditions or anything that would take me out of my “Zen” mode.  I had good music to listen to, the course was beautiful and everyone was friendly.

I didn’t look at my watch much, if at all, focusing on the trail to ensure I stayed safe.  Before long I was at the turn-around and only aid station.  I’d survived the first half without walking.  (I should note that people started walking at the first hill, less than 1/4 mile into the course.)  It was very congested, and impossible for me to run through.  I decided to walk through, get some water and take a gel.  Then I was off again, the real test:  3.1 miles of mostly uphill.

I made it about a mile and had to walk to catch my breath.  I kept walking hard, and my breath didn’t really come back.  After about 30+ seconds I decided to get going again, even though I wasn’t any better off.  I made it another mile and had to walk again.  I forced myself to run up the hills and use the crest to recover.

This was an out-and-back course, with the first part being road.  When I hit the road on the way back I knew I was close, sort of.  We came to a big hill, with a lot of people walking.  I picked a spot halfway up and told myself I could walk after that.  Then as I reached that spot I decided I could go a bit further and picked another spot.  Repeat.  As I got to a spot near the crest, where I really wanted to stop, I thought I saw the finish line up ahead.  I was so gassed that I needed to get confirmation from the runner next to me.  One more down and uphill to go!

With my old friend waiting for me at the finish line I knew I couldn’t walk where he might see me.  I dug deep and hung on, watching the finish get closer.  I passed a lot of people up that last hill.  I wasn’t thinking about that so much, I just wanted it to be over.  I don’t remember much about the finish other than being handed a much needed bottle of water.  I rinsed my mouth and spit it out, right onto the shoes of a passing runner.  I felt badly, but it makes me laugh today.

The goal for this race was to have fun and decide if I’d be interested in doing it or the half marathon next year.  Thinking about what I’ve written I’m not sure it is clear how I felt.  I knew immediately that I wanted to do the half marathon next year.  I didn’t care about the profile or that at 15+ miles it would be the furthest I’ve raced in 30+ years.  I had SO much fun.  I don’t remember when I’ve had that much fun in a race – maybe never.

I don’t know what will happen the rest of the year, or in the years to come, but this much is certain:  I had a blast a Leadville.  I wonder if I could do a 50 mile mountain bike ride???

What’s next?

A quick update before I dive into “what’s next”:

It’s been just about 3 months since my surgery.  The doctor said it would be 6 weeks before I was good, and three months before I was real good.  I wrote that down so I would remember it correctly.  So am I “real good”?

I am able to run and bike without any pain.  I have some discomfort on my long swims or kick sets, but nothing that would make me stop.  My ankle is stronger today than pre-injury, but I still come up a bit short when it comes to flexibility.  I could work on that, but I think forcing the flexibility could cause more problems that it solves.

Am I real good?  I’m not sure, but I am sure that I’m good enough!

In two weeks I’m going to do my first triathlon in over a year, a sprint.  I didn’t say “just a sprint” because to me it is much more than that.  Not only is it the next leg in my journey back, but it is also the first race I had to cancel due to my injury.  Needless to say I suspect it will be an emotional race.

This race is special:  I’m a sweeper, meaning I (and a group of other runners) will be doing the run leg carrying the US and service flags.  I’m going to be carrying the Navy flag in honor of my friend Chris “Doc” Goehner.  It’s going to be an awesome finish, one I hope the crowd appreciates as much as I appreciate the honor of carrying the flag!

The question I have, and a race day decision I suspect, is whether I will do the entire race on my own, and then run it again, carrying the flag with the rest of the guys.  I change my mind daily on what to do, and probably will again half a dozen times before I commit one way or the other.  Whatever I decide to do I’d bet that I cross the line smiling!

Last year in review

I haven’t posted an update in 10 months.  I knew time was ticking, but just couldn’t find it in me to write.  Looking back over my last few posts I can see why:  too much uncertainty and nothing good to say.  It’s funny to me to go back and read what I did write.  I wonder if all of our lives would look differently retrospectively?  So here’s what happened in short:

Around mid-June 2012 I fell off a ladder.  I ended up tearing multiple ligaments and fracturing a key bone.  I call it key because it absorbs a lot of the impact when you run.  I went through 2 months in a removable cast and another two in a splint.  I did a couple of months of rehab, and after 6 months was finally ready to run.

Running was painful.  After several months of rehab, trying to run, and waiting I ended up having surgery to remove scar tissue and clean up the ankle.  I’m now  approaching the 3 month mark where I am supposed to be “really good”.  That is relative.  Compared to pre-injury it isn’t accurate, but compared to pre-surgery it is true.  Only time will tell how good it gets.

Before surgery, I think it was while I was waiting for an appointment with the surgeon, I snuck in a race, a duathlon.  I was very out of shape and ended up walking a couple of times on the last run.  I was certainly less than satisfied with my performance, but I was using an old measuring stick.  It’s time for a new one!

I’ve been working with a new coach – who is taking things slowly and cautiously.  She is also focusing a lot of time working on core strength and flexibility, something I’ve never done before.  I still do a lot of rehab exercises, because I want both ankles to be stronger than pre-injury to hopefully prevent this level of injury from happening again.

I don’t have a lot going on this year – it is devoted to building base and preparing for next year.  I have signed up for three races:  a triathlon (more about that later), a 10K in the mountains of Colorado, and another duathlon in AZ.

I think I’ll leave it at that as it gives me something to write about in the future.  For now it’s time to wrap this up and get to my rehab!

Patience.  I must be patient in my recovery and hopefully anyone reading will continue to have patience with my writings.

Rehab update

I just glanced at my last post, and that seems like it was months ago!

Since my last post I was pulled off of swimming for several days.  The plan was biking only, very easy and only 30 minutes at a time.  This would give my ankle some controlled movement in a safe environment.  He still is concerned about the swim being not controlled.

In my follow up appointment, after several days of biking in a row with less pain each day, I was allowed back in the pool, with restrictions.  I have to swim with a buoy, be careful getting in and out of the water, and take a day of rest in between swims.  Because of the local pool schedule (the one with the safest entry/exit) I only got in one swim before the next appointment.

Everything continues to go well with the rehab.  I’m only doing what the doctor allows, and being very careful to avoid mistakes.  Today I was able to extend my spin to an hour, and increased the power some.

I can tell I’m getting better because I’m able to walk around the house (again, this is allowed) without my boot.  Once I get moving my ankle loosens up and I can almost walk without a limp.  Slowly but surely we are getting there!

Roller coaster ride

This has been a crazy injury/recover!  It seems as though one day I’ve got one opinion and am headed in one direction, then just days later everything changes and I’m headed in another.

In my last post (and I just re-read it to be sure I remembered correctly) I felt certain that that the surgeon was going to tell me I needed surgery.  I went armed with lots of questions:  what and when would he do it, what was the recovery like, etc..  We talked briefly, he examined my ankle, and then told me that surgery wasn’t required.  He put me back into the removable cast/boot and told me to come back in a month.  I wasn’t at all prepared for that response and hadn’t thought about any questions.

I did push back, indicating that I had athletic plans for the future and needed a full recovery.  He told me I was getting the same answer that Mario Williams (a professional football player in case you didn’t know) would get.  Still in shock I only thought of one other question:  when could I run again.  Red flag:  he didn’t know!

He said he was going to speak to Dr. Sanders, whom I knew would have the presence of mind to ask the questions I didn’t.  The big ones being how can two pieces of the ligament that aren’t touching going to reach out and reconnect?  If that do manage that, how tight will the ligament be?

I’ve done some research this weekend on my injury, something I should have done before my last appointment.  There were two themes:  Avoid surgery if possible, and people who did months of rehab only to end up having surgery later anyway.

Today is my first day back at rehab.  I feel a bit sorry for Dr. Sanders.  He gets as one of his last patients of the day someone with a lot of questions, and a lot of frustration with the answers he got from the surgeon!  Hopefully he has some answers for me!

Medical update

I’m late with this post because there was always another update just around the corner.  It’s still the case, but I do want to log my thoughts.

Last Thursday I went back to the orthopedic doctor.  I immediately told him I was unhappy with the continued pain and lack of progress.  He took a look at my ankle and sent me for an x-ray of my foot to verify I hadn’t broken something there.  That came back negative.

He took me out of the removable cast, put me into an air-splint and sent me to rehab 3 times a week.  There were two key questions asked/answered:

1. Are you sure that doing rehab now won’t do any further damage:  No.
2. Is this amount of swelling and pain normal for this long after the injury:  No.  If the pain continues he will refer me to a pain management specialist.

I signed up for my first rehab session for Monday, two days ago.

After some pushing and prodding by my parents, who were concerned about my situation, I called Dr. Sanders (a chiropractor) who has worked on various parts before, but more importantly works with the Houston Texans. He looked at my ankle briefly (and a photo I’d taken weeks earlier) and said something wasn’t right.  He didn’t want to rehab me without knowing what the problem was and sent me in for an MRI.  That was last Friday.

I cancelled my rehab session with the orthopedic doctor for Monday, and instead went for the MRI.  I have two words for that:  loud and cold!

Yesterday I went back to Dr. Sanders for rehab and to find the results from the MRI.  I knew something was up when he walked in without his  usual cart of stuff (gels/lotions, etc.).  Long story short, it wasn’t good news.  While it did provide some level of validation that I wasn’t just whining, for me it was the worst case scenario.  Reading his notes now I see that I have a full thickness tear of the ATF and medial deltoid ligament, and a compress fracture of the talar dome.  I also see a sprain and strain of the calcaneofibular ligament.  I had to look all of those things up, but I agree; that’s where it hurts!

He isn’t a surgeon, but he doesn’t believe those full tears can heal without help, meaning surgery.  I go in for a surgery consult tomorrow morning.  This is an ankle specialist who works with the Texans and Houston Ballet.  I believe that he will know the best thing to do to speed my recovery.  In the meantime I’m back in the cast with no extra walking or biking and limited swimming.

I wasn’t letting Dr. Sanders off the hook that easily, I wanted to know what that meant.  What were the best and worst case scenarios.  He replied that my season is over.  “That’s what you really want to know isn’t it?”  He knows me too well.    He added that either I wouldn’t be able to come back, or if I did I would be one of those old/slow people, which I won’t do.

He didn’t leave me hanging though.  The best case scenario is 3 months in the removable cast and no surgery.  However, he doesn’t believe that will work and said he would want to speak to the surgeon if that is what he recommends.  The worst case is much worse and involves pins and plates and 9 months of down time.

Needless to say I was pretty upset yesterday.  Today is a new day and I’ve got to accentuate the positive.  If I hadn’t gotten the MRI I could easily have done some damage and would be down much longer.

Tomorrow is my first appointment with the surgeon.  I hope to leave his office armed with a new plan for recovery, and that whatever he wants to do, we get to it as soon as possible.  Time is ticking and I’ve got races to run!

The Long road to recovery

I know it’s been a long time.  I had such good intentions this year to keep up, then I got injured, moved twice, and then got really injured.

Four weeks ago Wednesday I fell off a ladder while installing a ceiling fan.  I couldn’t have been any more than 2-3 feet off the ground, but in my attempt to jump clear of the ladder I landed awkwardly on the mattress frame and really did a number on my ankle.

I won’t bore you with the details of how we got here, just where I am now.  I’m in a removable cast, with which I’m able to walk around fairly well – just not very far.  I’m also finally able to sit in a chair like a normal person for an extended amount of time.  I’m unable to walk normally without the cast (nor am I supposed to even try) and am still too swollen to fit into a shoe.  Training wise I’m limited to swimming, and then only with a pull buoy as kicking is still too painful.

I go back to the doctor later this week to find out if I can take the cast off and maybe start some rehab.

I might be able to do some biking on the trainer, but I’m very concerned about getting my cleat off my injured foot (no way am I going to twist it out!).

Hopefully I’ll be back in a few days with a medical update.

Team RWB Triathlon Camp–The bike

This was simultaneously my most and least favorite part of the camp.  I have to mention the lows, as without them the highs wouldn’t be nearly as high.

As I mentioned previously, Team RWB provided bikes for 8-10 of the veterans.  Of the early arrivers, only Adam and Yogi needed bikes.  Fortunately they were the first to be fit with their bikes, giving them some extra time to tool around the parking lot.

My ears perked up a bit during their fitting when I heard them discussing the process of getting in and out of their cleats.  I figured it would be an interesting couple of days with people getting the hang of that and a few wrecks were in store.  I think just about everyone who dons them has taken a spill or two.

Yogi was first to be fit, and when he was done he started doing laps around the parking lot.  That’s when I got really nervous as he didn’t have very good control of his bike.  It looked like he knew how to ride, but hadn’t done so in many, many years.  Even more concerning was his apparent lack of what was going on around him.  The parking lot borders a fairly busy street in Austin, and he was riding right by the entrance without even checking for cars.  This was to be his theme for the bike portion of camp.

On Friday they took their bikes to a big field to work on bike skills.  They paired up to work on things like riding touching shoulders, putting a hand on the others back, and actually bumping back wheels.  The final drill was one where they would try to bend down and pick up a water bottle on the ground.  I was surprised that many of them were successful at this drill, but everyone kept trying until it was over.

Satisfied that everyone had some basic handling skills, Saturday morning we headed out for a big group ride.  The volunteers spread themselves out among the group and I positioned myself towards the back.  Right away I spotted Yogi and decided to give him lots of room, as he was all over the road.  We were riding two across and either took an entire lane, or the shoulder was almost that wide, yet Yogi was taking up that much space.  I knew he was going to crash and I didn’t want to get caught up in it, so everyone behind him gave him several bike lengths.

Someone told Yogi that he should try to follow the white line at the edge of the road to try and straighten him out.  While this did help, I was concerned with him riding that close to traffic.  I could also see that he was in too high of a gear, pedaling too hard and the only way to work on that would be to ride beside him.  I pulled up beside him on the traffic side and had him ride near the edge of the road.  We spent most of the day in this position.

I tried several pieces of advice for gearing.  I think it finally clicked when I suggested he try to pedal as fast as the guy in front of him.

Much to Adam’s chagrin, everyone got a chuckle when he was the first to fail to unclip when coming to a stop.  Watching it unfold in front of me I expected a chain reaction.  Either people were spaced far enough apart or moved quickly out of the way because poor Adam was the only one who ended up on the ground.  It didn’t seem to faze him in the least because at the end of the ride he was still smiling.  A bit later Yogi tried the same trick, but the person beside him was solidly on the ground and was able to catch him so they both stayed upright.

After finishing one loop we regrouped into sets of two (with similar strength) to do a second lap.  Yogi and I paired up, and grabbed Chris as our guide as I hadn’t paid attention to the route.  I would have been fine if I’d gotten off  course as I had my phone and throwing in an extra 10 miles wasn’t a big deal.  I didn’t think Yogi would fare as well, hence our guide.

Chris and I took turns riding beside Yogi with the other riding behind.  I don’t spend that much time sitting  up on my bike and my wrists were beginning to get sore.

Adam and Santiago caught up with us and rode for a while as they weren’t sure where to go.  Adam was eager to go and took off, so Chris gave Santiago some quick directions and they were off.  They ended up missing the a turn, twice, and added an extra 30 minutes to the ride.  I felt badly for them, as 30 minutes extra when you haven’t been riding at all, is a long time, especially when you are lost!

At about the midway point we had to do a u-turn on the divided road.  We kept Yogi blocked in until it was save then all three of us crossed to the u-turn lane.  As we came around the corner Chris and I both stopped to watch for traffic.  I’m not sure how it happened, but I looked up and there was Yogi about halfway across the three lanes, with an 18 wheeler coming quickly towards him.  All the yelling and whistling failed to capture his attention and he just kept going.  Those were the most terrifying moments of my recent life.  Maybe it wasn’t that close but it sure scared me!  After we re-grouped, Chris and I kept Yogi very close.

If that was the worst part of the day, the best part was watching his face as we rode.  He was smiling, and happy, and kept thanking me for letting him come to the camp.  This was why I came to the camp:  to make a difference in someone’s life, and I was there to see it happen.

We made it safely back to the finish line.  While I had enjoyed Yogi having so much fun, I think a part of me was glad that we were through riding bikes at camp.

Coming soon – the swim.

Team RWB Triathlon camp Texas 2012

Anyone who’s been following me these past few years (has it really been that long?), knows that my favorite topics are triathlon and, well, me!  Today isn’t all that different.  I want to tell you about my recent experience with Team Red White and Blue.

This is my second season racing with them.  I’ve tried to represent as best as I could, and I’ve told people about the team and our mission whenever I’ve had the chance.  Honestly though, there was something missing.  I didn’t really feel like I had any skin in the game.

I got a chance to change all of that last week, when I signed up to volunteer at their triathlon camp for wounded veterans.  If, after reading this, you don’t feel differently (maybe a lump in your throat, or a call to help) then either I’m a lousy writer or you’re a heartless and selfish bastard.  Sorry if I offended you, but that’s how I feel!

I had no idea what to expect, so I signed up for everything I could.  My first step was to pickup a retired Vet (Jamie) at the airport.  We chatted for a while driving around looking for a place to eat and I discovered that he was not only more experienced than I, but significantly faster.  I thought to myself that this was the caliber of vets I was going to be working with, and they certainly wouldn’t be needing my help.

One thing I should add before I go too far is that Team RWB provided a complete beginner’s triathlon kit to every veteran that needed it, including bike, helmet, wetsuit, shoes and uniform.  All they really needed were running shoes and swim goggles.  Not a bad was to get into the sport!

It wasn’t long before we were at the meeting place, and other vets and volunteers started showing up.  I sat down to install water bottle cages, put cleats on their shoes, and quickly fell into the old military banter.  I was sitting around with two Army/Airborne guys and one Marine.  Guess who we ganged up on!  After that day I didn’t pick on him again until the last day when we were fast friends.

Some of the vets brought their own bikes, and some of them were VERY nice.  A couple of the other guys looked like they hadn’t ridden a bike since childhood and certainly had never used clip in shoes.  Watching them ride in the parking lot made me nervous for their safety and vowed to keep a special eye on them.  Note to self, it takes more than just an eye!

I have to tell you something that struck me deeply.  We’ve all seen the news about the wounded soldiers, the amputations, PTSD, etc..  That doesn’t prepare you for the impact of meeting with these guys face to face.  Suddenly the news reports take on a whole new meaning.

From what I can remember there were 13 wounded veterans there.  I spent more time with the guys I met early that day, so let me tell you a bit about them.  One thing I didn’t do was ask them about any injuries or how they got hurt.  I felt if they wanted to talk about it they would.  Some did, some didn’t.  But this is what I got:

• Yogi – I didn’t discover until I got home that this wasn’t his real name.  Hopefully he was ok with the nickname people gave him.  He is a younger guy, one wife and two children (I still chuckle when I think of him saying this), and was a member of the 82d Airborne.  He was injured, spent 1+ months in a coma and came out with a rod in his leg and some brain damage.  He was the nicest guy, so thankful and appreciative, yet constantly apologizing for the most trivial of things.
• Serge – a retired Marine and the guy I was picking on at first.  He was either a combat medic and/or a door gunner.  Either way he was struggling with thoughts of suicide (one of his friends was successful) and some doctor suggested physical activity might help.  One day, he was out on a long group ride of 70+ miles when he was pulled from the course by medical personnel.  Subsequently he went into convulsions, fell, and broke his back and damaged his shoulder.  This camp was his first time back on the bike!
• Adam – An Airborne soldier with the 173rd in Italy.  He was on patrol when his buddy tripped an IED, which blew off his legs and severely injured Adam.  It was hot outside, so I ripped off my shirt, and several others, including Adam, followed suit.  I saw a scar that made me think of what they must do to perform an autopsy.  I’ve since seen pictures of his scar and it is nothing like I remember, yet it still gives me pause.  He has a matching scar on the back of his neck and several near his eye, which I didn’t notice until he mentioned his lack of peripheral vision on that side.  Most of these guys suffer from insomnia, including Adam.  He casually mentioned one afternoon that he hadn’t really slept in over a year.  Despite all of this, he is eager to get back to his unit.
• Doc – a Navy Corpsman.  He’d brought his own bike so I didn’t pay much attention to him at first.  When I started to say something about him being a squid Adam shut me up by saying that a corpsman had saved his life and he loved them all.  Doc was a pretty solid triathlete already, and I didn’t think he needed any help from me.  I later read an article about how he is doing some 100K mountain bike ride on GW’s ranch next week.  In the story it said how he had worked on over 1200 wounded before being diagnosed with PTSD himself and sent home.
• Jamie – my airport pickup, a retired Army guy who spent most of his time in the 82d or in Iraq/Afghanistan.  He kept being passed over for promotion until it was time for him to get out.  They offered him an E-7 slot on the front line, which he passed  up.  He’s about 10 years younger than I and is shooting for a 5 hour half Ironman in Florida in a few weeks.
• Larry – I didn’t get to spend that much time with Larry and still haven’t figured him out.  He was very nice, yet quiet.  He had his own bike that had an interesting aero setup.  It turns out he doesn’t have an elbow in his left arm, which allows him to, among other things, swing his arm backwards and hit himself in the back of the shoulder.
• Dan – didn’t even make it on my radar until the next to last workout.  I watched him swim, and it was the most amazing thing ever!  He was barely working, yet was leading the pack.  Long story short, he is an active duty Navy Seal who spends about 35 hours a week training.  Had I known that up front I would have spent much more attention to his swimming!

So, that’s some of the gang.  Most of them are on medication of some sort – many for insomnia and/or headaches.  Two are stationed at Walter Reed.  Every one of them was as nice as could be, and none of them displayed the “why me” syndrome.

The camp itself was 3 1/2 days, way too long for me to cover in a single entry.  I’m going to take a few days so I can cover it all.  The last thing I will talk about today is the trip to the shoe store.  Two of the vets, Serge and Yogi, had forgotten running shoes.  Ever the volunteer I went with them to the shoe store and then got them to the welcome dinner.  It was the trip to the shoe store that really touched me and told me I’ve got to do more and get more people involved.

As we were walking to the store, Serge was complaining about his shoulder, and popping it in and out of socket.  It reminded me of that Mel Gibson movie, except that for Serge there was no screaming in pain and it was as easy as cracking my knuckles.  I wasn’t sure how this would hold up for a couple of hours on the bike!

When we sat down at the store, with a wonderful salesman, Yogi told him not to bring out a bunch of shoes.  “Only bring a couple” he said, “any more would be too hard to choose”.  It took me a while for this to register, but I think at times he has the mental capacity of a teen or pre-teen.  I don’t mean this in a mean spirited way, and Yogi if you read this I hope you don’t mind my honesty.  When he put on his first pair he stood up, jumped around, and struck several ninja type poses.  It reminded me of the story my parents tell of how I would run around the house in my new shoes.  He wanted those shoes, and the next pair, and the next.  The salesman was very diligent in making sure they were the right size (we started with the 9 Yogi said and ended with a 10.5), and putting him on the treadmill to watch his gait.  Because of the rod in his leg, and that leg being significantly shorter than the other, he has a funky running style.  I didn’t think he would be able to run 1/2 mile!

As we walked back to my car from the shoe store, they kept thanking me for my patience.  They were so excited about their new shoes, I made it a point to ask them about them after every run workout.

As I sit here, thinking about that first day and how I felt, I have only one life experience that can even closely relate – being a foster parent.  Suddenly I had inherited 13 kids, who through no fault of their own had suffered something no person would ever want to experience, yet all they wanted was to look forward.  These guys are my hero’s, and I think about them every day!

 

Watch for more to come soon:  The Bike!

Galveston–Redemption of sorts

I’ve been meaning to write this since Monday morning, but with packing for the move and trying to recover from Sunday’s race, well I just kept putting it off.  The delay was probably good in that I’m not quite as emotional as I was earlier in the week.

When I scheduled this race I told coach I didn’t want to put any pressure on myself this year with the longer races, I just wanted to enjoy myself.  Then reality set in, and as my training continued to improve I set some lofty expectations.  I’ve had the time of 5:45 stuck on my refrigerator for weeks if not months.  Despite the distractions from home, I thought I could make that time, and had a shot at my coaches prediction which was in the 5:30’s.

Fortunately with all the distractions, I didn’t get as worked up about the race as in the past, not until race morning.  At that point I lost my water bottle in a porta-potty 2 hours before the race, and forgot to grab my pre-race gel.  I entered the water thirsty and one gel behind – not real smart in hindsight.

The swim

My plan, that I formulated upon entering the water, was to start near the back of the pack to avoid the mass of bodies, and then take it easy on the swim.  While I had a time in mind, there is no way to monitor that in the water, so I figured I would take it easy and conserve energy for the rest of the day.

For whatever reason, the first 300 meters were particularly rough.  I don’t know if it was because I was near the back, or there were more people in this wave, but I couldn’t get away from people no matter what I did.  I was punched in the side of the head and had to stop and reseat my goggles.  I bit later I was kicked in the head so hard I actually saw stars.  I always thought that was something only in cartoons, but believe me it really happens!

Regardless, I did my best to stay out of everyone’s way, and just kind of cruised along.  I counted buoys to give me something to do, and focused on my stroke.  Several times I told myself to slow the stroke rate and get a solid catch/pull.  It didn’t work as well as I wanted because of all the bodies, but I tried.  In the end I exited the water 2.5 minutes faster than I’d ever done before.  Maybe the masters swim class is working!

As I got out of the water I saw the strippers (the wetsuit kind!) and headed over.  We struggled a bit to get my feet out, but then I was up and running when I saw my cheering section.  I had to pop over and give them some high fives.  I remember my Mom’s hands were full of cowbells so I missed her.  I don’t think she missed out again!

The bike

I got in a quick transition and headed out with my bike.  I remember David, my brother in law, running alongside me in transition yelling “you’re two minutes ahead of schedule!”  I don’t remember telling anyone what my schedule was, but it was a nice confirmation of what I thought – so far so good!

As I expected there was a headwind on the way out.  It didn’t matter, I just started going and watching the miles count down to the turn around, all the while keeping my foot on the gas.  My back was getting tight and I wanted to stretch, but I figured it would be better to wait on that until I had the tail wind.  For the record, my bike computer said the turnaround was .8 miles too far out.  That wouldn’t matter since everyone was doing the same distance, except I was racing the clock and that meant extra time

I expected to really pick up the speed on the way back with the wind at my back, and while I was faster it wasn’t nearly as much as I thought it would be.  I was starting to tire, my back and neck hurt, I was getting saddle sores and I needed to pee.  While all of this conspired to slow me down, and I was generating much less power, I managed a negative split.  By my calculations I was about 5 minutes ahead of schedule!  I didn’t get an update from David, but that’s what I thought.

The run

Another quick transition and I headed out for the last leg.  I took the long way out of transition so I could say hey to my family.  I was feeling pretty good at this point.  I kept a pretty close eye on my pace as I know I tend to come off the bike too fast.

The course was three loops with a lot of turns.  I didn’t pay enough attention to my pace as the first loop was much faster than I wanted or planned.  Fortunately I didn’t realize this until reviewing my splits the next day.  I passed my family feeling pretty good and was surprised that somehow I’d missed the loop through the airport and expected to start the next loop right around the corner.  Then we veered off to the right and headed out onto the tarmac.  That was absolutely the worst part of the course.  The heat coming off the tarmac was brutal, there was no shade, no spectators to cheer us on, nothing but sun and lots of wind.

By the second lap I was walking through the aid stations so I could dump water over my head, ice down my shorts and grab a swallow of water.  I was carrying water with electrolytes, but somehow that wasn’t what I wanted.  By the time I started the final lap I was really hurting.  Aaron from Team RWB walked with me a bit to see if I needed anything.  A lot of things went through my head but we agreed that all I really needed was for the race to be over.

The walks at the aid station grew longer.  I tried some coke figuring it couldn’t make things any worse and it didn’t, though I’m not sure it got any better.  I took a gel, which almost came right back up.  I pulled over to get sick when some spectator told me to keep going, one step at a time.  Ok, I thought, I’ll get sick somewhere else.  That didn’t happen, but I also didn’t take in any more gels.

When I saw my family near the end of the last loop my tank was empty.  I stopped and talked.  Someone poured water over my head and I just stood there with my hands on my knees.  A check of the total elapsed time compared to the remaining distance told me I couldn’t reach my goal unless I ran 8 minute miles, which I knew was impossible.  In hindsight I think my math was off, and if I could have just sucked it up and run from there on out, at any pace, I might have made it.  I didn’t though.

The last trip through the tarmac was brutal.  It was really hot by now.  The few volunteers were also tired and sitting down eating/drinking.  I talked to a couple of people who felt like I did.  I offered them encouragement as they walked and tried to no avail to get them to speed  up and walk with me.  One of them caught up to me, running, tapped me on the back and said “let’s go”.  I fired up the engines and ran with him, then he fell off the pace.  I could tell where the finish was and just kept running, and finally crossed the finish line.  I was pretty out of it.  I had no idea of my time, let alone what the people were doing as they tried to hand me water, a medal and remove my timing chip.  The people who fussed at Lance for ignoring his daughter have no  idea how muddled your mind can get out there.

I remember

There are things that I remember, but aren’t really sure where/when they happened.  Like the swimmer who swam over top of me, or the cyclist who refused to drop back when I passed him.  More importantly I remember lots of support on the run.  Once I spotted my family I kind of knew where to expect them, but several of them appeared out on the course at different locations.  Natasha was there, cheering me on and encouraging me to run, as were several of my RWB team mates.

In the end I finished with 5:47 and change.  Two and a half minutes slower than I wanted, and slower than the qualification time for Nationals.  I was devastated, and sat down to allow myself a few tears and a brief pity party.  While I’m still disappointed I am now able to look back and see where I need work, congratulate myself on a 21 minute improvement on my previous best time.

The best news is that my run was a total disaster.  If I can put in a run like I should be able to, I will knock another large chunk of time off my PR.  I need to update the time posted on the refrigerator!

What to say…

I missed a blog entry 10 days ago, where I planned to write about my recent experiences swimming.  Last week I would have written about struggling with a couple of workouts and what I learned from it.  This week I wanted to write about my breakthrough brick.  So, what do I do, what should I blog about?  Maybe a bit of all three.

As I said, swimming is my least favorite workout.  If I miss a workout, odds are it is a swim.  And I can’t tell you how many times I’ve been swimming and thought to myself that I could drop the swim and just do duathlons and be much happier.  Two weeks ago was no exception.  But I got in the water and started my workout when something amazing happened.  I found the zone!  My body seemed to find the right position, my form was solid and I was flying with less effort.  It only lasted for 100 meters, but it was a glorious feeling.  Having found that, and wanting it again is enough to keep me coming back to the pool.  Who knows when it will happen again since it took 2+ years this time, but I suspect I am getting closer to finding that sweet spot with regularity.  And then, watch out USAT, I’ll be coming on strong!

Something happened last weekend, perhaps the change in the weather, I’m not sure.  All I know is that Friday evening I was exhausted from my swim, more so than usual.  Saturday, after my bike ride, I had a hard time with the run.  It was so hot and I knew I hadn’t had enough to drink on the bike.  Sunday’s run wasn’t pretty.  Scheduled for an 11 miler, I started noticing pain in my hamstring around mile 4.  I was going to quit but the pain went away before I finished the lap.  I figured I would take one lap at a time.  I was  upset that this was happening now, and not going to risk doing any damage with my race right around the corner.  Shortly into the next lap the pain resurfaced.  I turned around and headed for home.  Then I started getting a similar pain in my other leg, and then my lower back.  I realized it wasn’t my old injury coming back, but probably cramping from dehydration.  I hadn’t run that far yet was soaked with sweat and just hadn’t drunk that much to compensate, and probably was still behind from the day before.  I backed off the pace, tried to drink extra fluids, and headed home – three miles short of the day’s goal.  It was a great learning opportunity though, reminding me that I need to drink more as the temperature heats up.

Before my workouts this weekend I got an email from coach with an outline of what she thinks I can do at my next race.  Needless to say her goal is MUCH faster than mine.  I’d be tempted to dismiss it, except she was spot on for my last race.  To top it off I read her blog about when her coach believed in her more than she believed in herself.  I decided that Saturday I would really push myself to see what I was capable of doing.  NOTE:  I really need to start doing this more on my training rides every weekend.

Anyway, I took off at a fairly decent clip.  I tried not to think about how fast I was going or how much power I was generating, just go.  I tried to watch for wind signs so I’d know whether to expect a head/tail wind on the final leg, but it looked dead still.  The ride was fairly uneventful until about the last 8 miles, where I passed a rider going  up hill.  A bit later I looked back and he had managed to grab on to my rear wheel and was drafting off me.  He asked and I said I didn’t care, but made up my mind to drop him.  At that point I really started pushing.  I don’t think my pace ever dropped below 22 mph, even uphill, and my power hit the upper 200’s several times.  No matter what I did, he hung on.  I kept telling myself that this was a race and I needed to go.  Funny thing though, my legs were burning and I was breathing hard, but I never got too tired or worn out.  Next thing I knew it was time to get off my bike for a short run.  Normally I ease off a bit towards the end of the bike so I have some legs to run with, but with my chaser I never got the chance.  So I started running, and my legs felt no different than they do after any other ride.  It was a short run of a couple of miles, and while I couldn’t have run 10 miles that quickly, it was a quick pace given the workout I’d just completed.

What a mental boost that workout was.  Not only for the race coming up, but for future workouts where I now know I can push harder on the bike leg (which will only make me faster)!

I don’t know what will happen Sunday.  I’ve had a lot of good workouts and feel very comfortable with my training level.  I’ve got a time posted on the refrigerator door that I should easily beat.  The question is, can I hit coach’s goal time.  It’s party time if I beat either time, but if I am able to do as well as coach thinks, the part will be off the hook – probably two beers instead of one!

Thanks for reading!

Easy does it!

A week ago I was flying high.  I’d put in my best run ever, especially for a 13.1 distance.  I can’t remember my PR for the 10K as it was a while back, but I suspect that I ran faster last week then I did at the shorter distance.

Then I got a much needed week of recovery training.  I was pretty surprised at how sore my legs were.  It wasn’t until I got on my bike and spun them out that they started feeling normal again.  I also took the opportunity to eat some cheat food.  I felt guilty, thinking I would have gained a bunch of weight.  However, at last check I was right where I want to be.

I’ve got just three weeks until Galveston, where I really find out where I’m at.  Checking my schedule, I’ve got solid workouts planned for the next 10 days or so, and then we start to taper.  I really need the weather to cooperate and let me get outside on my bike.

So why am I telling myself “easy does it”?  With all the success I’ve had in training this year, and then the solid race last week, it is easy to get carried away.  I’ve got to be careful to not put too much pressure on myself, as historically that hasn’t served me well.  Each training session I’m going to focus on what I need to accomplish that session, and just that.  I don’t want to get too excited about the upcoming race.

One day at a time, one workout at a time.  If I do that the race will take care of itself.

Wow!

What do you do when you wake up at 4:30 and can’t go back to sleep?  Update your blog.  Note to self, if you want to sleep late, don’t fall asleep at 9 pm!

Yesterday was my first race of 2012.  Based on the title of this entry, you can safely assume that I had a good race.  The short version is that I took 6th in my age group, recorded a 1:38 (for a half marathon) beating my previous best by 4 minutes.  I was hoping to break 1:42, and thought there was an outside chance of breaking 1:40.  My finish time was even on the radar, at least not mine.

The rest of this might be a bit boring, but I do want to record my thoughts.

The Plan
Wanting to break 1:42, I knew I would need to average about 7:45 pace.  Honestly I didn’t think I could do that, and really figured that when I had done it before it had been a fluke.  That said I needed a plan.  I figured I would start with the pace group running 8:00 (with a pace group) for about 4 miles, drop to 7:45 for 4 miles, and then to 7:30 until the end.  This would have gotten me my goal time and I would have been very happy.

Talking to coach the day before the race, she didn’t like this plan.  She thought it was too conservative, that I was fully capable of going under 1:40.  She wanted me to start out on my own, but if I was going to start with the pace group I shouldn’t stay any longer than 1-2 miles.  Staying any longer would force me to run much faster to make up for lost time.  “Listen to your body” she said.  “Try not to focus on your Garmin”, and we even considered going without it.  By now I should know better than to not believe her.  I think she knows my body better than I do!  So my plan changed slightly to still start with the pace group, but to listen to my body.

Race morning
We started off late leaving the house.  Then while pumping gas I decided it was colder than I’d thought and wanted to go back home to get an undershirt.  We got to our rendezvous point with Team RWB and took a group photo.  By the time I found my pace leader it was time to start lining up for the start.  I didn’t get a chance to warm up!  In all the excitement I also forgot to take my pre-start gel.  Really not the start I’d hoped for!

There were around 3000 people doing the half marathon.  With how the corrals were set up I found myself fairly close to the starting line.  The full marathon people got a 5 minute head start.  I’m not sure why they did that, as it didn’t help us any.

The Race
There wasn’t a starting gun (or even a starting line), just a guy on a megaphone saying GO, and we were off. I’d expected us to start off with slower times fighting through the crowds of people.  Since we were close to the front we quickly found space to run, and at a quicker pace than I’d expected.  At about 1/2 mile I felt the pace leader drop back to the 8:00 pace.  I did a quick body check and decided I was fine with the pace I was running and left the group.

I really tried to not look at my Garmin too much.  When I thought I might be pushing the tempo a bit too much I would check.  Several times I found my pace around 7:10 and would back off.  I have to wonder what would have happened if I hadn’t of known.  Could I have kept that pace up and not blown up?

There wasn’t much going on in the race.  I’d picked some good up temp music to keep me motivated.  There were lots of spectators lining the course cheering us on.  And the course was very flat.  It did seem to me that there were a bunch of false flats, and I kept waiting for the other side, but it never materialized.

The real problem was the wind, which was brutal.  I told myself early on that this was good training for Galveston, which will likely be windy, but that didn’t make it any easier.  I tried to find big people to draft off of as much as possible.  Unfortunately most of those people are further back in the pack, and often times it was just me with no one around.

I’m glad I took the extra shirt as it was cold at the start.  I did warm up within a couple of miles, but never got hot, nor wished I didn’t have the shirt.  While I wished I’d also grabbed my gloves and arm warmers before the start, I was fine without them during.

I tried to calculate my pace several times during the race.  Most of the time I missed the mile markers.  When I didn’t miss them, my calculations were all over the place.  I kept thinking my math had to be wrong, and it probably was, I was working pretty hard and couldn’t focus on the math.

At some point I realized I’d forgotten my pre-race gel.  I’m not sure why I didn’t take one immediately as I had plenty.  I did some quick math, adjusting my nutrition schedule, and stuck to it.  Fortunately it was never a problem.

At about the halfway point I thought I was averaging about 7:40 pace, again, I’m not sure about the math.  I figured I would just hold this until mile 10, and then pick it up until the end.  The next few miles went by very slowly.  I started thinking that mile 10 was too soon, and it became mile 11, then mile 12.

Mile 12 was key for me.  Team RWB had the water station there and I knew my shirt would get me some good support there, hopefully enough for a final kick to the end.  Unfortunately mile 12 was manned by a bunch of young kids and there wasn’t a RWB shirt in sight.  I think I got one shout out at the very end, nothing like what I’d hoped for.

That last mile was SO long.  I had no kick left in me.  I was telling myself to just hold on.  More math told me that if I could just hold an 8:00 pace I would break 1:40.  It felt like I was running in slow motion.  I didn’t feel any of the usual emotion coming in towards the finish line, just pain and realization that I just couldn’t pick it up any more.

I crossed the finish line, and apologies to the runners behind me leaned over with my hands on my knees trying to recover.  I mumbled something to the volunteer who asked if I was ok, got my medal and headed out of the finish area. 

In closing
My watch read 1:38 and change!  I honestly didn’t believe coach when she told me I could do that.  I started out faster than ever before, and while there were times when I worried that I’d started out too fast, I was able to hold on through the end.

I have to say this was a great race for me to start the season.  Yes the time was great, but it is much more than that.  I pushed myself harder than I thought I could, and when things got tough I just kept going.  There were times, especially into the wind, that I walking entered my mind.  Instead I reminded myself that if I want to be fast it is going to be hard.

Yesterday is now over and it is time to move on.  Tomorrow starts my training for the Galveston HIM, and if you thought my goals for this race were crazy, stay tuned!

Payback time

It’s been about three years since I started this new journey.  One of the early influences on my training was Sam, the owner of our local gym.  Not only does he have a nice facility that is very conveniently located, but he is a super nice guy.  Until he puts on his trainer hat.

I’ve been to too many training sessions with Sam, that left me exhausted, sucking air and wondering how I’d let myself get so out of shape.  I think he does that with everyone, even the ones that are super fit.  That’s just the way he is and how he wants us to dig deep to improve ourselves.

Over these past few years I’ve done more than a few races, and I was usually eager to tell Sam about my results.  Sam, being very confident with his capabilities, would often tell me I did good, and that he probably could have done better.  He wasn’t rude or mean, he is just very confident about what he thinks he can do.

I remember long ago being out running when our paths crossed.  We ran together for a while, with him pushing the pace to the point where I was unable to finish my planned run.  Sam of course kept on running.

This past Sunday I was running along, enjoying a more leisurely pace in light of my upcoming race.  Sam and I crossed paths, and he quickly turned around to run with me.  Despite our casual conversation, I could tell that he had picked up the pace from what I was running.  I hadn’t planned on running that fast, and didn’t really need or want to, but I figured what the heck and kept up.

The difference this time was that the faster pace wasn’t a problem.  He commented that he was trying to get into shape for the American Ninja Warrior game show, so I offered to help him push the pace.  He said he needed to wait until we were about a mile from the finish.  I ignored him and started to gradually pick it up anyway.

With a mile to go we were hitting about 7:30 minute mile pace, still no problem for me.  At a half mile out he started to slow down.  I challenged him to not fade on me and tried unsuccessfully to pick up the pace.  He stayed with me until the end, though half a step behind.

When we hit the end of the loop he immediately stopped and bent over at the waist.  This time it was me that kept on running!  I headed out on my second of four loops with a smile in my face, knowing that not only had I given Sam a little payback for his previous torture sessions, but also that there is no doubt in either of our minds who the better runner is.

p.s.  I could take him on the bike and swim legs too!

Distractions

Everything was going so well this year that I kept waiting for something to go wrong:  the inevitable injury, a cold, something.  Only it never came, and I kept doing better and better in my training.  With each successful training session my expectations rose.  I went from racing for fun this year and testing out the waters for longer distances, to wanting to be competitive.

Suddenly having fun wasn’t enough.  I wanted a new PR.  And not just a PR, but a huge one.  Twenty plus minutes for the first race, and then another fifteen for the second.  I’m still having fun, but now when I look around, instead of seeing other athletes and smiling, I size them up and think to myself that I can (or can’t) beat them.

I’d say that makes this off season very successful.  And then it came, and not from a source I would have expected.  Less than a month ago my wife and I wondered if maybe it was time to move, to downsize and find a house without a private pool.  In a span of 4 days last week we listed our house, sold it, and bought a new one.

As a home owner that is a good thing.  It’s always nice when someone loves your house and what you have done with it.  As a triathlete it hasn’t been so good.  The effort was tiring and time consuming.  The time normally spent with my feet up recovering has been spent looking at floors, appliances, houses and doing repairs around the house.

Fortunately most of that is done and over with.  My bigger concern is with all the details yet to be worked out.  I find them occupying my mind at the worst possible times, when I’m training and should be focused on what I’m doing at the moment.

I’ve decided that the solution is to push harder in my training.  If I’m in serious pain I won’t be thinking about where I’m going to store my furniture or what movers I’m going to hire.  Unfortunately I’m in taper week right now, and most of next week is recovery week, so I’m not going to know how well that works for a bit.

In the meantime I’m going to try and focus on my half marathon this weekend.  Oh yeah, and I’ve got to remember to smile!