Superman and Kryptonite

First of all, I’d like to thank, in no particular order, Jolene, Steve, Lorie, Jessie, Jay & Michelle and Tiffany. They’re always kind enough to leave a remark, which is always appreciated. Jolene is ADHD and I’m OCD, which is an odd combination, but an absolute blast due to her entertaining personality. Tiffany has the most entertaining stories of the group. Jay and Michelle are as nice a people can be. Lorie is always there seemingly more interested in healing the world than looking after her own needs (amazing). Steve is inspiring, at least to me, because of how hard he always works. Jessie is always good for a response every time to everyone (none better at that). Sheena's blog is a good read too. Of course, I can’t leave out Amanda. She helps me with everything, great and small, which allows me to keep pressing on when life is about as challenging as it can get. She helps keep my focus on helping others and thinking about our impact on the world with little things like recycling.

Following the Lincoln Marathon, I was getting around a lot like an old man without a much needed walker. My back had gotten so tight that it managed to strain everything around it, including my left hamstring. With a good amount of warming up, I was able to run, but it was so slow I had to draw a line in front of me to see if I were still moving. In the pool, it took one flip turn to realize I wasn’t going to be doing that for a while. A loud under-water yell let all my air out, leaving me desperate to get to the surface. Making things a bit more challenging, I’ve been released from my medical profile … at least temporarily. The illness I picked up while in India is still a mystery as tests have revealed very few clues. When I get well, I’m sure I’ll get fast again. Returning to full duty, I’m wearing the bullet proof vest, tactical vest, carrying around a weapon, radio, ammo and carrying a very heavy bag of battle gear. At least it was entertaining for the other troops to see me struggling to get around. I’m a glutton for punishment and would be racing on Saturday anyway, so I don’t expect much sympathy.

My Saturday race started on Friday. I work nights, but was called in early for a 1 PM meeting. For those with normal work hours, it would be like getting up at midnight in order to get to work by 1 AM. Dragging myself out of bed on four hours of sleep was nauseating. The meeting lasted long enough that I would have to choose between working out or getting a nap before work. I run every day (1593 days in a row on 11 May), so I chose to workout instead. Here’s where things got tricky for me. I work until 6 AM and the race was in Pasco at 8:30 AM. The only way to make it was to pack everything I’d need for the following day, put my race outfit on with my uniform over the top.

Work went by rather slowly as I hoped to be relieved of my post in time. We have to stay until we’re relieved, which can be early or really late. I’ve been relieved two hours late before, so I was a bit nervous. The latest I could leave and still have any chance of making it on time was 6:15 AM. Getting up so early made it pretty difficult to stay awake at night. We have the cool police light bar, roof mounted thermal imagers, night vision goggles, binoculars (not so useful at night), a PA system and a host of other things to entertain me while on duty. Yet, after a few years, these toys lose their entertainment value. Eventually morning came and I heard the magic words “Guard Mount Broke” at 5:43 AM. It would take me a total of 20 minutes to get relieved, turn in my gear and get in my car to start my trip. It was enough of a charge to liven things up for about a half hour before time caught back up to me. I was so tired by then that I was feeling terrible. As I approached the Sprague exit, I had to decide if I was going to continue on or turn around. Like an idiot, I decided that I would continue on despite feeling like Superman wearing a Kryptonite necklace (it’s an analogy, so don’t read too much into that).

GPS helped me drive directly to the race, which is a good thing. I had no idea where I was going other than the intersection of two streets. It took a little searching the map as I drove, but I found them. I arrived on scene at about 8:10. Showing up wearing my uniform gets me a hero’s welcome of sorts. It makes me feel good, but at the same time, I’m not any more a hero than the next guy. I spend most of my “around others time” at Fairchild. We all wear the same uniform, so it’s not a big deal to be seen wearing my uniform. If not for my tight schedule, I would have stopped at home to change. Anyhow, I got my number and found a great transition spot. OK, so being the last one to show up puts me in the worst spot, but races are rarely determined by the few seconds of transition. I’m usually the last one to be dismissing any time loss, but in my situation, I find comfort in knowing what to expect. I made a quick trip to my car, stripped down to my race suit, like Superman in a phone booth and was on my way.

The race had a couple of the fast Tri-Cities guys in Schur and Brown. The latter has been working a lot on his biking this year, which is bad news for the rest of us. He’s already a great biker and I’m not. The course was a 5K cross country run, 30K road bike and another 5K CC run. The race started and I felt like pulling out as about a dozen runners began pulling away from me. My legs were quick to remind me that I was six days off a marathon and my back and hamstring were happy to chime in too. This course was a lot more difficult than I thought it would be. We ran in sand, heavy lawn clippings, thick layers of hay and hay bales, dirt, gravel and various combinations of these surfaces. The hay bales actually clamed a couple victims. After about a third of a mile, Brown was still leading. He’s a much faster biker, so I cannot let him finish anywhere near me. Getting outrun means game over.

(This was just after I made my break in the thick lawn clippings ... smells great!)

It was time to get tough, so I picked up the pace and really began to suffer. Racing on no sleep the night before and very little sleep the night before that takes the fun out of racing, but I’m addicted. My feet were digging in about as deep as I was, so I felt like I was running with a ball and chain. As I approached the mile mark, I was barely able to keep from crashing on the soft and rapidly changing steep terrain. The constant changes in surface, combined with losing so much power as I sank in more as I pushed harder left me with little power to climb and descend the steep hills with even softer soft terrain. I was just too tired and decided it was time to give up. I did the hardest part by showing up and starting, but I was just too tired. My expectation was to look back and see that I was pulling a dozen people around the course, but there was nobody there! I had a good gap, so I decided to go to mile two before quitting. Unfortunately, one thing I’m really bad at is quitting. I lie to myself all the time. As I rounded the corner to head into the final run mile, I got a much needed distraction. A very inattentive team biker was wandering across the run path and completely oblivious. It’s hard to miss a guy in a bright blue and white Air Force triathlon suit in the middle of a green and brown field, but she managed to do just that. I tried to go around her, but she saw me at last minute and tried to get out of my way. It’s always best to hold your position when someone is coming at you because they’re going to go around if they’re not playing football. Unfortunately, I had to plow her over as she dodged the same direction I did twice. She fell into a grassy area as I continued to run, but I figured she wasn't hurt as I heard her apologize. The curse of the race leader is often to pass through an area before volunteers are ready for you or are aware you're there. It can result in missed help at aid stations, directions at a key turn, someone standing oblivious on the course, etc. After finishing the 5K in 17:52.8 (pretty darn good for that course), I zipped through T1 before anyone else was able to get there.

(This is the turn where I realize I have a good lead, just before the steep climb to mile 1)

At this point, I was thoroughly awake, but working that hard only makes things worse. I called myself all sorts of mean names. Why do I do this to myself? I knew Brown would be coming after me, so I biked as hard as I could. After not biking for about 10 days, what little edge I had was gone, so it would be an all guts race. My goal was to make it 20 minutes before getting caught. I run better in comparison to the other runners on the second run than the first, so leading almost halfway on the bike would be enough. So here I am powering up the hills and riding in the middle of nowhere and hoping I don’t get lost since they didn’t have a lead car. I take a quick look at the watch and I’m 10:45 into the race. At that very moment, Brown goes flying past me so fast and unexpectedly that I was startled into a yelp. It got a laugh out of him, but I couldn’t hear it as he managed to pull away too quickly. I tried to keep it close, but didn’t have enough to make it interesting. In all, he outsplit me by 3:31!

(I've already been passed and am trying to hang onto second)

Coming into T2 so far back was really embarrassing while wearing the Air Force racing outfit. That’s not how I like to represent. I racked my bike, threw on the shoes and took off like I was only running a mile. I know I can handle running that hard, but it basically amounts to torture. This was my self-inflicted punishment for getting beat so badly, regardless of the reason. Every open area was a chance to scan the horizon for the leader, but he wasn’t there. Mile one was around six, but with the terrain, I was powerless to get much more out of my legs on this course. Mile two was the same, but at least I didn’t have to plow over anyone. The leader was still out of sight. It was all I could do to keep the torture lever on high as I hoped to catch someone who was long gone after starting the 5K with a 3:05 lead. When it was finally over, I learned that I got a big-time whooping to the tune of + 1:51 after taking 1:14 back on run #2. I made sure to congratulate Mr. Brown for annihilating me with a bike split that few in the country could match. I always make a point of finding satisfaction in how hard I try instead of how fast I go or how high I placed. No other race this year was so challenging to simply toe the line. I didn't have any more to give this race, but I find that I’m truly disheartened this time. It will serve as motivation in the weeks and months to come. I can’t remember the last time I had a goal race around here, which allows me to taper and race much faster. One of these days I’ll get fed up with pushing myself like this only to get crushed in the name of training for an "A race." When that time comes, I hope that ALL the fast guys are there. That will be a fun and interesting competition where I'll be looking for some sweet revenge.

(It looks like Schur and I are punching Brown after destroying us ... we were gracious in defeat)