Race MWB

Cross Biathlon?

2011-07-31T22:31:00.000-07:00

Cross Biathlon. Apparently that's the new tag for summer biathlon, which is a sport that combines cross country running and rifle shooting. Over the weekend, I competed in my first summer biathlon and first biathlon since the nineties. Back then, I was neither a shooter nor skier. I'm still not a skier, but have spent a fair amount of time shooting and carrying a long gun during my tour with security forces at Fairchild. That and having the skiing replaced with running, it seemed that I'd have a fair chance of being competitive.

On race day I'm up and on site about a half hour before a required safety class. I have lots of questions and haven't met my Washington National Guard team mates, so I figured it would be best to be early. After registering, the range official told me (not asked me) to follow him to the range because he had things for me to do. I'm a pretty generous guy, but he didn't know me, ask me for help and completely disregarded my statements about going into this without experience, equipment or help to that point. Still, I followed him and helped for a bit until I went looking for my team. He followed me out front and told me that I needed to get back to work. This happened after the event as well. Apparently the competitors are also peer pressured into volunteering to the point that it's almost a requirement. The events wouldn't happen otherwise. I'm not sure what the entry pays for, but it's apparently not for an event management company. Makes no difference, but it's an off putting way to be introduced to the sport.

Later my team mates showed and were very generous and helpful. One was willing to talk me through it as if I knew nothing. That was what I needed so I didn't have to guess and hope I got things right. When it comes to firing a weapon, there are rules that you follow absolutely. In the heat of competition when pushing physical and mental limits, you have to know these rules well for safety if nothing else. I'm also a little bit competitive, so I didn't want to fumble around trying to figure things out when the competition was leaving me in the dust. Between the safety video and questioning and my team mates, I was comfortable that I would be able to do this. Perhaps I wouldn't do it really well, but I had enough to compete and learn more at the same time.

I didn't have a competition 22 rifle of my own, so I was loaned one from the range/Washington Biathlon Association. I was given time to sight in the weapon, make some adjustments and even try shooting a round after an easy warm-up. It wasn't going to be like the heavy breathing and racing HR during the race, but it was another step forward. I also got to watch the women who raced before the men, so after that, I was ready to give this thing a try. I was more nervous than really big triathlons, but I was a rookie in a sport I wasn't prepared for like a rookie triathlete would be.

The men started based upon their bib number. I have no idea how they're assigned, but I was given #25. #24 was a guy named Kato (I hope I got that right) who normally wins these based on being the fastest runner and also shooting very well. He would be my carrot as he started 30 seconds up on me in the time trial start. The course would be alternating between the red loop (with a tough hill to descend and climb) of .84 miles and a blue loop (without the hill) of .61 miles. We'd run red, then shoot prone (lying down), then run blue and shoot prone, then run red and shoot standing, then run blue and shoot standing and finish the race with one more red loop. The four bouts of shooting consist of 5 metal targets each. When lying down, the target is 1.8 inches and when standing, the target is 4.5 inches. These targets are 50 meters away.

I was glad to start with the run and was really excited to start behind the top guy. I ran a controlled first loop (red), but that hill was really tough! I closed the gap on #24 a little bit, but figured the real damage would come on laps 3, 4 and 5. 100m from the range, there's a sign that simply has 100m printed on it. This is to ease up to catch your breath and prepare to shoot the tiny targets. I had already eased up a bit before that, but cruised in, grabbed my weapon and headed to the first open lane. Despite having thought about how I wanted my clips facing in the weapon, the way I grabbed them and inserted them was not the same. My clip ended up being loaded backward, so I had to fumble with the weapon to get the clip out and reloaded. After that, I struggled to get my arm band clipped to the sling. This is supposed to significantly improve accuracy. I'm told that first time competitors miss every target on every round, so anything more than zero was a bonus.

When I finally got around to shooting, there was an uncomfortable awkwardness of trying to line my sight on the target and keep it there with my heart racing and lungs taking in and exhaling giant quantities of air. In triathlon, there is precision in transition, but with diminishing returns it's very little lost time when you're not perfect. In biathlon, a miss in this format is a 30 second penalty. So if you are taking your time to try to get it right, but miss anyway, you've essentially been penalized twice! I thought about just firing them off quickly, but decided to take my chances and begin the learning process so I am more competitive in the future if I get to do more of these. I missed the first three, but hit #4 and finished with a miss. Hitting a target was great, but I spent 1:45.68! Normal range times appeared to be :30 to 1:00 and people seemed to hit somewhere around 50% of their targets. Hitting 20% and taking about a minute longer was not good at all.

Lap 2, Kato was too far ahead to get a good gauge on how much I was closing on the run, but I pushed the pace and kept rehearsing what to do in the range. I was passing a lot of people and wished the run was a lot longer. When I got to the range, I was a lot calmer and avoided making the mistake of putting my clip in backward and only had to hook my arm band once. I only hit one target, but was only there for 1:26.96. At this point, I figured I could start pounding the run. I had little hope that I'd hit anything while standing, so with us being on the red loop again, I wanted to start making up time where I could. It was a gut wrenching effort, but I never closed enough to see Kato until the range just as he was about to leave.

On my first standing range effort, I accidentally grabbed the wrong gun out of the wrack, but that would only be a minor set back. Holding that weapon still enough to feel like I had a snowball's chance of hitting that target seemed very unlikely. Still, somehow I hit it once and was on my way in 1:25.75. Not bad considering the lost time grabbing the wrong weapon, but not having to hoop my arm band and not having to position myself lying down and getting up again saves time. Lap 4 I had the exhausted feeling that I have in sprint tris, which makes me feel right at home in the house of pain. I started running better and closed the gap to Kato enough that I was able to see him way ahead of me again in certain spots.

My final range time was really tough, but it was probably the first one where I felt like I had a rough routine free of mistakes, even if it was cumbersome. I got through it in 1:07.70 while hitting a single target again. It's still slower than what others were doing, but I wasn't handing away time like I was Kenenisa Bekele who can drop a 4 flat mile like it's not a big deal. Heading out onto the run, I was only about :50 down on Kato who started :30 ahead of me, so for the actual competition time, things were looking more respectable. I ran that last lap (red loop) as hard as I could, but only got :15 back to finish :05 behind him. When the penalties were added, he hit 7 more targets than I did, which equates to 3:30.

In the end, I was 3rd behind a team mate and Kato who won with a total time that was 3:35 faster than mine. Not too shabby I suppose. Had I been better on the range times, which were like really bad transitions, I could have been another 1:45 faster and probably finish 2nd. After the race I helped pack things up, enjoyed a podium picture and figured this could be a great sport for me to make some extra money with (military pay) and help keep things interesting while I continue to get back into shape.

Gearing up ...

2011-07-19T01:35:00.001-07:00

People say having a baby will change your life. It's such an obvious thing that being told that seemed almost annoying. Little did I know just how far reaching the "change your life" would go. I can't just go for a quick run. I can't hop in the lake off the dock in my back yard and go for a swim. There's no short TT ride around Clear Lake either. In fact, I feel lucky when I leave the room without protest from my little boy Mercury.

Even so, I'm finally catching onto the way to go about things, organizing my schedule and timing the help of friends and family. My mom comes over in the morning so I can run with the Medical Lake XC team in the morning ... at 8 AM! That's really tough for me, but I like getting it out of the way. When she doesn't come over, I take Mercury in the jogger. The runners and Mercury enjoy each other, but Mercury loves to go over the bumpy terrain and start humming to hear his voice vibrate with the bumps. He gets louder and louder until he's almost yelling and it's so funny hearing his voice breaking with the bumps that we have a tough time running.

The McCoy family treat him like one of their own. That's particularly beneficial since they take turns watching Mercury while Mike (McCoy) and I go out for our training. As little as I've been swimming, it's really REALLY tough to keep up in the swim. In fact, I get dropped every time and struggle to go 700m. I can still swim every distance up to Ironman, but I'm not confident about my ability to continue on with much success afterward. The biking is where I really benefit as this guy is easily one of the most talented triathlete bikers around. He's not quite as fast as Roger, but he's not far off.

In the evenings, Amanda and I split up the runs with him in the Jogger while the other does something that is less practical (biking) or not possible (swimming). We got the smallest helmet for him we could find when we went shopping for him, but it's still not a good fit. As a result, we don't take him out for many rides. I usually try to find another small kid who's willing to go for a ride as long as he/she tends to Mercury and keeps the helmet from tilting forward and covering his eyes. That would annoy me to have a helmet covering my eyes, so I can't imagine a baby would have a good time on a ride like that.

All of this boils down to me actually starting to get into shape again. I'm not in great shape, but my run is improving enough that I don't feel like running sub 6 pace is barely possible. Today I actually rode over 24 MPH for the first time in a very long time and that was after 47 miles yesterday and several hard days, including speed work (run) with XC early in the day.

I've had some great results in the past, including one side-ache away from an undefeated year with over a dozen course records. One thing I haven't done that I've always wanted to do ... only once though, is to win a half Iron. I've always trained specifically for sprint distances, which make Olympic tough, but possible. The half on the other hand was just way too far for my 50 mile weeks on the bike. So, if all goes well, I think I'll actually train for a half and see if I can bag a victory some time next year. I'll make sure to avoid races with Tim O'Donnell. I might even try to do it in an Ironman Canada qualifier and see if I can get a decent result there so my 16:50:57 isn't my only memory there ... along with my 8:21:59 marathon (one of the slowest in history).

Racing Scared

2011-04-12T23:38:00.000-07:00

First, thanks to Dan Frost for being so kind and generous to get me to the air port. I was essentially stranded due to an administrative error that had all of Team Air Force leaving on Sunday, as we do every year, while I had a Monday flight.

Every year I compete in the Armed Forces Championships at Pt. Mugu Naval Air Station just west of Malibu. This year wasn't like the other years. It was in early April rather than late May to as late as early August. Normally I hit my peak in August and September. This year, there would be absolutely no open water swimming and very little road time on the bike. That's very disheartening considering how difficult it is to train around child care for what all my years of racing tells me is easily one of the most competitive races in the country.

I can honestly say that I did my very best to train. My goal was to qualify for the Military World Games in Brazil. I believed it was a reasonable possibility. I also believed that I was barely able to get things lined up and having the speed/ability didn't guarantee a great performance. I needed to hit a home run with my preparation and racing smartly. Sometimes we miss a scheduled drink, supplement or whatever or perhaps just get to it later than planned. I needed to do what I do best, which is to find a way to get the best my body is capable of on race day. My fear was in the possibility that I'd fail to do that. I was concerned that I'd have a terrible swim and have to ride on my own while others worked in packs to leave me further behind. I feared my somewhat unfamiliar road bike and low mileage would leave me running out of gas early and force me to fight harder than I should to keep from having a completely miserable time and place. That over-the-top bike effort would leave me shot for the run on a year where I'm not capable of my typical top five run time. That could equate to running so slowly that on a race like this I'd be that guy out there so long after the others finished that it could be said that I didn't belong in that race. My fear was essentially that I'd have a humiliating performance in a race that I've always given my best to and have always been a podium threat.

Here's how it all went down ...

I took some chances with my training, but was smart and paid close attention to how I was feeling as well as playing on things that have proven to be successful for me that others would not do. I ate well, but not too much. I slept A LOT leading up to the race because I knew I wouldn't sleep well the night before. My race morning meal and hydration went as planned. Even the usual stress of doing things last minute was ameliorated due to having everything done the night before. I had my best wheels on for the first time ever on this course. I even rehearsed my race strategy, hydration and supplementation to perfection. I was good to go.

Standing on the beach in my wet suit (thanks Zoot), staring down the 54 degree ocean water, I had visions of a violent churning of water from the fists and feet and waves and water sweeping over me while I took in water as swimming turns into survival. I've had two pretty bad swims in my life. Both were because I just didn't feel like I could get enough air as the wet suit felt like it was squeezing my lungs empty and the subsequent struggle lead to me getting swam over and fighting for air. Compared to what I was about to face, I would have loved to have a swim like that.

The waves pulled sand away to create a trough of water in the normally gradual increase of water depth. So as we ran from the beach into the water, most wiped out as the ground disappeared beneath us. We began to swim shortly as we ran into the higher level of sand that was only ankle deep. The waves crashing over that were brutal and pulled us backward. I stood up to run again and found myself bracing with both feet in the sand as I was pushed backward because I couldn't dig my feet/toes in deep enough to hold my place. Fighting through it, I was soon swimming, but that didn't last long. The crowd merged in on me. I was punched for the first time ever in a race. Then I was punched again and again and kicked. I was swam over. Someone grabbed a foot and pulled me back. Someone grabbed the opposing shoulder and pulled me back. I was pushed down and over and pulled again. I respect these people enough I didn't fight back when I normally would and couldn't believe that something that was too much to be accidental was actually on purpose. My place near the front felt like a death trap as I was quickly taking in water and my forward momentum was replaced with a struggle to get back to and stay at the surface. I tried to signal for help, but got none. In fact, it wasn't until the wave of roughly sixty athletes was almost completely ahead of me that I felt safe enough to try to race again.

It took me to nearly the end of the first lap to recover from my ordeal. Pride was the only thing that kept me going as it felt like all the work and preparation was wasted on something that some very selfish and inconsiderate athletes took from me. My troubles weren't over, but I no longer feared for my life. I had some idiot swimming on my feet. I'm all for taking advantage of any situation on the course as long as it's legal, safe and smart. He wasn't just swimming on my feet, but he was pushing them down with a great amount of regularity. With the feet and hips constantly dropping, this guy was slowing down the guy he wanted to draft to get a better swim time. Again, I fought the urge to plant my size 10 in his face, but I was certainly pissed.

There was not a stated rule against turning the triangle swim into a square by swimming straight in and running on the beach the length of the leg perpendicular to shore. We normally have buoys that we have to swim inside of, but they didn't put them there, so I took advantage. As a result, I moved up from roughly 50th to perhaps 40th in my wave. Having ran past the buoy on the beach and to the point I swam almost straight out to the first turn buoy, I avoided the few people that I was passing and save the difficult conditions of the ocean, lap two was much better. In all, I had the 28th fastest men's swim time on a course that proved to be either too long, extremely difficult or a combination of both. My swim time was 26:08! The fastest swim time was 21:49 by an extremely fast swimmer who allegedly swims in the 17 minute range. It is what it is though ... which was the most awful swim of my life.

Once out of water, I had a respectable transition, even if it was slow for me. My left foot got stuck and it took some effort to get that duck foot out. I think the fastest time was :50 with mine being :59. Transitions are usually comparable for men and women, so I felt a bit better to see that there weren't any females under 1:07.

The race got a lot less interesting after the swim. I worked hard, found a group, stuck with them for the first two of four laps. I'm still very apprehensive about going around corners, which requires more effort to keep up on the many turns, but I was able to do it. With the majority of the field not being skilled at drafting, turns were wide, so I tried to be at the front or back at every turn. The first 90-degree turn on lap 3 was where I got dropped. I had to pull a little extra long to avoid being on the side of the pace line when we turned. That long pull, my weakness on the corner and the fact that I was the only USAF guy in the pack made that an excellent point for them to attack me. Being what I sincerely believe is as much fortune as strong racing, I've been to more Military World Championships than any other current military member, so I suppose it was a smart move for them to attack. I was alone for roughly a lap before getting swept up by another pack on the last lap, but I lost 2 minutes to the pack I was in.

My pack was unusually tentative approaching transition, so I blasted to the front as I would rather enter an empty transition area in the lead of a pack rather than trying to navigate around a pack in T2. As a result, it actually affected the overall standings when all was said and done. My T2 was good, but I took a little extra time to get a gel and some salt tablets. Losing a few seconds in T2 for what would probably be a lot more on the run was worth the sacrifice ... even if I do love a great transition. The few seconds came as we have to keep things in a little bin and there was no other good way for me to store things, so they were under my wet suit as were my shoes.

I had biked pretty hard out there, so my legs were tired and my conditioning heading into the race left me with more speed than strength. It would require patience, but I ran controlled and slightly slower than I felt I could to recover in hopes of still having a pretty mean run time. Several athletes from my pack got away from me as the first lap was a lesson in patience. Lap two I felt better and gradually increased the pace for a half mile before settling into a pretty hard effort that was just faster than what I felt I could certainly do. I was moving up then from what I counted as 29th starting the run (including those who passed me in the first half mile from my final bike pack). When I got to the final turn, with a mile to go, I had about four or five athletes that were in range. I wasn't wearing a watch, but I'm really confident that it was my fastest mile of the race.

I caught all the athletes I figured were in reach, even the ones that were improbable. One of which later told me that I edge him out regularly. This guy was in my first bike pack, got dropped and finished with me, then ran away in the first four miles. I caught him, blew by, then increased the pace early to try to prevent anyone from trying to come back. I started early and had made all my passes with over a quarter to go, so I was just trying to send a message that I wasn't worth trying to catch. This guy came storming back and we ended up with a mad sprint to the line. I pulled it out and beat him by a second! It's amazing how a race like this can come down to a sprint. My run time was 35:28 for what I measured as 6 miles, but can allegedly be closer to 5.95 miles. I know I'm supposed to stretch the truth or mislead people by posting the time and letting them think it was a 10K, but that why try to paint your eyes so you can see the race if I'm going to give a false impression?

My overall place for the Armed Forces Competition was 18th. Team Canada was there to qualify their national team as well, so I think three of them finished in front of me. Either way, I ran down 8 athletes and finished with a 1:59:14. I was firmly in a scoring position for Team USAF. We had a pretty fair margin over Team Navy as we won the team competition for the second year in a row. The same was true for the women. In addition, we had repeat overall champions from our team last year. The men score eight of twelve while the women score four of six. The USAF women had all six athletes finish top ten, but more importantly, they took the top four spots. I've always said their team was so strong that they could compete with the other three branches (Navy and Coast Guard compete as Team Navy) combined. With a perfect score, that was certainly evident. The USAF men won 85 to 97.

Shout outs: James Bales for finally getting to train and winning for the second year in a row with a pretty amazing performance. My good friend Michael McCoy for finishing 9th a month before he retires! He's ageless. Coleen and Erin, who are sisters, finishing 2nd and 3rd overall for the women. Erin was listed as the first alternate, but an injury to a primary got her into the big race and she didn't disappoint. We now joke that she's the 7th best female triathlete in the USAF, but the 3rd best in the military. I guess that means she's 3rd best in the USAF too :). They're both really great people, so it's fun to watch them do so well. I was also glad to see Rachel Beckmann return to a draft legal race that she loathes and have her usual dominant bike and run to storm back into it. The top six men and women, or whomever the spots roll down to as athletes are available, will be competing in Brazil in July in the 2nd Military World Games Triathlon.

Only Fools Run: Mercury and Me

2011-04-04T14:08:00.000-07:00

The Only Fools Run at Midnight is a run held on the weekend of April Fools Day. It's a 3.5 mile run through the town going up one road and down the next, working our way over 6 streets like this before crossing the main road in town and heading to a finish line that's just a right turn and less than a quarter of a mile to the start line. That same start line is about 400m from my house and the home stretch goes right past my house.

That makes it a must-do race. On the other hand, with a 4-day 24-hour exercise at the base, my shifts and hours, along with my insomnia left me without any more than a nap where I was able to sleep for an hour over three days. We'll just say I was really tired and skipping this race would not have bothered me at all. Amanda and her sister were going to run it, with this being her sister's first fun run. Her sister has a little boy that's just 3 months younger than Mercury who will be 1 year old on May 10th. I was going to run with Mercury in the jogger if he was awake, but my tired state left me hoping he would stay asleep and I did everything I could to keep it that way.

Unfortunately or fortunately, still can't decide, he woke up 40 minutes before the race start and was wired. Waking up isn't atypical, but wanting to do more than get something to eat is. So, we fed him and got him dressed up in his snow suit. I finished getting him ready as Amanda and Kristi (her sister) jogged to the start. I didn't care if I was late as I can't imagine being a minute late would make a difference when trying to navigate through a crowd with a jogger and certainly didn't think I'd be able to get on the start line.

Long story short, I was running up toward the start line thinking I was about a minute late, but it was the wheel chair that I missed. I was only able to tell because a police car leads the race with it's lights on, which is pretty cool at night. I won the race once and got to see it's coolness for the whole race ... even if it was short as the cop accidentally lead us all on a course that was about 3/4 mile short. Anyway, because it was dark, I couldn't see that the entire crowd was still standing in the road until I was about a half block away. I don't know if it was habit/routine or wishful thinking, but I ran on the side walk all the way to the front and jumped on the start line.

My last minute arrival made for a seamless warm-up to race start as we got going just a few seconds after I arrived and too quickly for anyone to complain about a stroller being at the front of the crowd. Normally I try to pace myself perfectly, but this is more fun run than it is race, so the kids and less experienced crowd make this one of the fastest starting races in Eastern Washington. I blasted out of there in hopes of not being swallowed up in the crowd of eager runners preparing themselves for an early blow-up. Hanging on the right side of the road and calling out "stroller on your right" rather often kept me out of trouble, even though I was very close to clipping a couple runners darting back and forth.

After about a quarter mile, the crowd thinned out and I was able to navigate well enough. Passing people while pushing a stroller is fun for me, but not for them. Soon I was settled into my race pace of 6:00/mile. Not great, but it was better considering it was with a jogger and being as tired as I was, it was as fast as I was willing to go. Soon that lack of sleep caught up to me and my gut felt awful, but I was closing in on the lead group of four. After I caught up to them, they picked it up so I wouldn't pass, but they weren't pulling away either. My whole body felt heavy and uncomfortable, but I knew that if I could stomach the discomfort that I'd be able to close this thing out at a much faster pace over the final half mile ... no matter how unpleasant it was.

Of course, the best laid plans of mice and men ... so they say ... are laid to waste when you hear a familiar sound closing in on you in the middle of the night. About 1.5 miles in, I hear the distinct stride of Evan Sims, whom is nice enough to train with me from time to time, despite being significantly faster. So I turn my head a little so my voice is heard better, even though I don't look back, "Is that you Evan?" Not a word, but with relative ease, the runner moves up along side me and it is indeed Evan. He apparently started over a minute late, worked his way through the crowd and then ran the lead pack down like an uncaged beast! He tried to chat with me, but even if I felt better (had some sleep) I didn't have the breath. So I did my best to chat for a bit while trying to encourage him to run them down in hopes I could chat at the finish line. Soon enough, he moved ahead, quickly caught the lead four, blew them up and drug one to the three mile mark before dropping a wicked half mile on the dude to leave him wondering what just happened. He was Evanated! That's what happened!

As for me, I backed off to a still very uncomfortable 6:20-something pace. I got passed by one guy, but passed one of the original leaders. I had to close with a hard charge to get my pace back down to 6:15 at the end. I haven't been running with the little guy because of the cold weather. That made racing with him for the first time pretty tough. Still, I think I enjoyed it and would like to make this a tradition of sorts. It would have been fun to win, but we still had a great time. He was ready to go back to bed though. So was I. It was a bit foolish to sacrifice sleep when I had the opportunity in the middle of the night. I've been running at night for years though. I suppose that's why they say only fools run at midnight.

It's Been a While

2011-03-18T00:13:00.000-07:00

I don't know how long it's been since I posted. I could have looked, but got straight to writing again. It seems that I'm in a perpetual cycle of injury, recovery, try to get into shape and get injured again. Sometimes life is like that for some people. I must be some people.

Since the last update, I ran the Spokane Half Marathon. I didn't have a fantastic race, but I paced myself really well and finished with a decent time of 1:22:39, which is roughly 6:18 per mile. Not knowing what I was capable of made it more satisfying to have run roughly the same pace from start to finish ... slowing a touch at the end. Somehow, despite being able to see the leaders for several miles, I think there was a very odd wrong turn somewhere. I was expecting to see a 1:15 or so based upon the times leading up to the point I couldn't see them, but that didn't change the outcome of the race order ... just times.

I worked hard to get ready for the Columbia River Classic 10 mile. My goal was to run sub 6 pace, but I really didn't think I could do it. I worked hard, but had a lot of issues to work though. When race day came, my goal was to just lock onto a 5:55 to 5:57 and watch the times like a hawk. I didn't want to go too fast and I didn't want to go too slow either. Mile after mile I was holding sub 6. I had the 5:57 because GPS and courses sometimes end up adding time from a hill or faulty reading at some point. The 2+ seconds was my buffer. A couple miles were just a hair under 6, so the plan barely worked. At the turnaround, which is around 6 or so miles because of a loop at the start, I was feeling a bit better than expected, so I decided to give chase to the two guys ahead of me. The pace dropped to around 5:50 for a couple miles, then I pushed even faster for the final two miles. They paced themselves similarly and actually pulled away despite my attempt to run them down, which they could not see. In the end, I managed an official 59:37, but the course was a touch long as usual. I think I saw something like a 59:17 or 59:18 at 10 miles. Either way, I met my goal that I didn't think I could make.

Since then, it's been a struggle to find a balance in my schedule and time that I can train. Watching my little boy is fun and challenging. It can be so demanding at times that I wonder how any parent of a little one can ever stay in great shape. I'm not in terrible shape, but I am certainly not out there at the race every weekend. I'd rather sleep in and start my day later to recover a bit more. A bad case of insomnia doesn't help either.

So I have been living through others. It's been fun to see how freaking fast Evan Sims has gotten. 1:08:25 for a half marathon! I used to beat that guy. The times were a lot slower and I have never been in shape to run anything faster than a high 1:13. Anyway, it's amazing. Then this last weekend, I saw Josh Hadway ran a 24:48 for 5 miles! That's as impressive as it is intimidating. He's a triathlete and runs sub 5 pace for 5 miles? I need to find a new sport.

I've been putting in some serious time to get ready for the Armed Forces Championship though. It's a draft legal race, so my focus is on what will be best for me in that competition. It's the swim and run. We'll see what kind of magic I can find this time. Every four years is the Military World Games. This year it's in Brazil. I'd love to go, but I have to qualify against a bunch of other people who would also love to go. Not good odds if you ask me, but I will give it my best and see what that gets me. After that race, should I fail to qualify for Brazil, then who knows what I will work on. I'm low on motivation and perhaps am at a stage where staying healthy and fit will replace trying to win races and set records.

As long as I'm not terribly out of sorts, I'll actually update this a bit more often. I'll probably end up making all the pictures about Mercury. He's more important than racing anyway. Eventually, he'll be doing them with me in the stroller, but it needs to warm up a bit before I do that to the little guy.

Kiwanis

2010-08-05T13:21:00.000-07:00

Kiwanis is a sprint triathlon with a pretty good sized turnout here in the small town of Medical Lake. It's a race that feels like it was thrown together despite being around for years. It has everything you need for a race save the clear cut rules and instructions and accurate posted leg lengths. On occasion, I get asked why I do this "beginner's race" that is annoyingly named a mini triathlon.

1. It's 1200m by water from my house to the swim start or 1.08M on the trail. If you've never had the pleasure of living on a lake with three triathlons, then just know it's great to wake up in my own bed and be at the race as well. The only thing better is Trailblazer, which starts at the park 50' away. There's no packing or travel. If I forget something, I can go home and get it. It's low stress with little time investment and I love it.

2. Yes, it has a lot of new triathletes, but any time I'm in a race, I can crank it up regardless of how close or far the competition is. If I want to guarantee being pushed to the limit, I can travel to some other race on any other week. On the other hand, this race has had some great athletes toe the line. Roger Thompson and I were both chasing the old course record, missing it as a result of mysterious time being added to my time and a longer swim course for him and missing the record by seconds. Ben Greenfield has recently raced here too. There are more, but I don't know the stats and history of this race that well.

3. Racing a course that I train and race on all the time gives an easily comparable result. Other than the swim, which can be 500m or 200m depending on the year and how well or poorly they eyeball the mark, the bike can be compared with simple math because it starts 1.08M down the road from my usual start, which is basically the same as Trailblazer. The run is one lap minus .06M vs. minus .02M for Trailblazer or 2.86 and 2.90M respectively. I like data and knowing how my training and racing is going, so this is a course for me.

As for the race itself, I woke up on race morning and enjoyed being able to pack my things and head on down to the race well after most who stressed over their packing list, loaded up the car, double checked and were driving for a while. Part of the race is knowing transition and few understand or appreciate transition like I do. A little contention over one elite triathlete in Trailblazer made that clear. I'm all for competing head-to-head, but part of the race is strategy and investment. Show up late and get a bad spot ... too bad. I'm not going to give up my course strategies, tell you where to start, how to pick lines, tricky spots on the course, things to watch out for, give you my equipment if it's better, etc. So forgive me for being competitive in a competition people, but it's all part of the race, which is why I try to crush people in transition rather than wait for them so we are competing head-to-head in the swim, bike and run only. When I show up late, which has often happened for a variety of reasons, but most often because of military duties, I suck it up and take whatever spot is available and will do my best to make up for it with a great strategy. That's part of the race, like it or not.

At Kiwanis, I showed up and many racks were full, but luckily for me, I got on what I felt was the best rack, but just a couple spots down from where I would have set up had I been there earlier. The others preferred the other racks I guess. Other than the usual prerace stuff, I got into my Piel wetsuit and did my warm-up, then headed up to ask the race director whether we were swimming clockwise or counter-clockwise (the usual). He said counter-clockwise, then went on gushing about me and following me and my course record of 34:14. What?! 34:14 for a 10 mile bike and 2.86 mile run, two transitions and a variable swim? After the race we debated it a bit, which has always been fruitless as this guy is always certain he's right. This time I was successful though. I said that no triathlete in the world could do that. Even my best TT bike and fastest lap around the lake without transitions or a swim would be well over 34:14 (roughly 39 minutes give or take). He then realized he must have been mistaken and must have transposed the numbers. It should have been 43:14, which is a bit faster than I recall, but it's at least reasonable. I'm thinking it was a high 43 to a low 44.

Anyway, I did another short swim to get warmed up, looked at my watch when I got close enough to touch and it was 9:56:38 and we start at 10. I heard something about Bergquist back on the beach that I couldn't hear well with water in my ears. Apparently he was still talking about me and joking about me giving others a chance. He must not be aware that I'm a LOT slower and still trying to get back INTO shape. Some people just don't believe that, but getting whooped nearly every time I race is a pretty good indication that I'm not 2008 Michael Bergquist. I'm the downgraded 2010 version. Then I heard a countdown start! Yikes! I never heard where we were supposed to start, how deep, shore or whatever. Some were near me and others were closer to shore, while some were on shore. I worked my way back for about 5 seconds, then stopped, prepared my watch and started it 2 seconds early and waited for the go!

I was crashing into the waves of the unusual northern wind, but I like short fast races. Not many had wet suits as it's usually so short that the time it takes to get it off gives them a slower net time than wearing one. The wetsuit gave me just enough speed to stay out front and breaking the waves with Warden on my toes (never touched them though). My only concern is hitting that turn in or near the front to avoid the absolute chaos that must ensue with a couple hundred people making a 180 degree turn 100m into a swim! I hit that turn and cranked it up on the way home. I exited first by quite a bit and began trying desperately to get my split. It was 3:04, but I didn't get it split until 3:08! Not bad for a 400 yard swim (accuracy?). The swim is the only thing that isn't consistent about this race, so I see it as a way for my intelligent approach to get me on the bike with a bit of a lead. The Piel wetsuit has breakaway zippers that go down to the ankles. Just pull to pop the zipper and peel it away like an NBA warm-up suit. I could have it off before I touched dry sand, but running with it on is faster than trying to carry it, so I waited until I got near my bike.

I hammered it up the hill and followed the route I did three or four times before the race to make sure I had the best lines and went straight to my bike. I dropped the wetsuit off right after arrival, threw on the helmet without glasses and was running out of T1 as the next person entered. It was like lightening! Too bad that wet suit is a terrible fit and not good for anything other than a sprint tri, but it's perfect for this race! T1 was 1:10.52, but I count that from the water's edge to the turn onto Salnave/Hwy 902 at the exit to the parking lot. This way I can compare my bike split to Trailblazer and my rides from home without the mess of climbing that hill and it's awkwardly short distance, etc.

I've been working hard at improving and was looking for something better than my 23.55 MPH average in Trailblazer. It's shorter at 10.05M vs. 12.17M, but that means less time for working out the time loss from starting and stopping and makes the harder parts of the course a greater slowing percentage of the race. In all, I'd consider whichever had a faster average a better ride as the beginning and end of Trailblazer are relatively flat and fast. My time to and from Clear Lake Rd. always varies a bit due to wind and how well I start, but the time around the lake is my real gauge. My best lap (around Clear Lake) was 17:50 during Kiwanis 2008 when I set the Kiwanis course record with the short swim, which was disappointing as I would have beaten the old record anyhow. The 17:50 was my best time around the lake for any TT or race. On this day, I made it around in about 18:40 or 18:50. I can't recall exactly, but I was still in front with only one person in sight about a minut back. It pays to know a course so well that you can catch a glimpse of a rider in the distance behind and know about how far it is! After the lap, I dropped the effort a bit and tried to recover a bit for the run. I thougt there was a team there with a good runner, so I wanted to make sure I had my best overall performance vs. trying to gap the #2 guy by enough that he ran for #2 instead of #1. My bike leg was 24:47 for 10.05M (24.33 MPH). Knowing that sub 25:00 would be my best pace of the year, I felt pleased that I'm making good progress and was substantially faster than my Trailblazer ride.

T2 was fairly flawless, but in an unorganized race without clear rules on where to go, I did what I have always done and entered the wide open, unmarked transition area the way I left it ... for years now. As I was off my bike and running at about 15 MPH toward my T2 spot and about to step on the grass, I heard someone say that I had to go through the trail entrance to my left. A quick look revealed that a crowd of about 2 or 3 deep was scattered about across the path and everywhere; moreover, it was a bit late for an added bit of organization from a random voice in the crowd. I just kept going. I racked my bike, dropped the helmet, threw on the shoes, synched them, grabbed my belt and was on my way in just 32.10 seconds from the top of the park driveway. I don't know how it compares to other years, but it didn't matter as I was on my way and the run was going to be the one way to seal the deal. I looked to my right as I was about to turn left out of Waterfront Park to see if there were any bikers coming. Nope, I was in the clear for the moment. A spectator told me a moment later that he saw the next biker coming in and I did a rough, but slightly generous estimate that I had about a minute lead.

The trail has 5 different markers from faded old stars to newer quarter mile markings. I also have points that I run past regularly and can gauge my performance on splits in various different places. It seems I settled into a 6:08 pace during the first mile. I kept it nice and steady and ran 1:32 for each quarter. When I got to the mile mark, I decided to crank it up. I was only able to drop to 6:00 pace for the next mile, but entering north park, I looked back and figured there was still at least a minute lead. I had no idea if someone was coming from back in third or fourth, so I pushed the pace even more and held on with my rubber legs to cross the line with a run time of 17:14.98, which is good for a 6:01.88 pace. It's not a fast course with all the constant grade changes (around 28!) on the final stretch, but I ran better than I did at the Trailblazer.

My finish time was 46:49.80. Oddly enough, I had a posted time of 46:15. Second place was some person I didn't know from a local club who posted a time of 48:50. Third place was 49:40. I'd guess that the time must have started about 35 seconds late, which wouldn't surprise me. It had started to rain lightly, which was great for the racers, but bad for the timing, which got jammed up paper swelling from the rain drops, which ruined many of the later racer's "official" finish times.

I'm pleased with my race as it shows a marked improvement over Trailblazer just about 5 weeks ago. Although the swim can't be compared, I rode .78 MPH faster and ran 12.6 seconds/mile faster. I always have a jump in improvement after a hard race effort like that, so I did a Trailblazer bike TT from my house (.04M longer at 12.21M) and hoped to ride a sub 30:00. To my surprise, I managed to break 29:00 with a 28:58.39 (25.29 MPH). It's my first time over 25 MPH since 2008 when I broke 26 MPH on this course. Maybe this training more than 50 miles/week on the bike has it's merrits. There's still a long time to go and a lot of ground to make up to get into better shape than I was before. At least I'm closing in.

Ted Finegold ... 21 July, 2010 RIP

2010-07-23T02:00:00.000-07:00

I've always liked writing. It's a challenge to find the right words to tell a story in just the right way. I don't always get it right, which goes without saying. This time, I know I can't find the right words. I want to so badly, but how do you write about the sudden end to a life that seemed so strong. A couple days ago I found out Ted was sick and today I got the terrible news that Ted was gone. Being a father myself, I can't get past the thought of what it would be like for my little boy Mercury to grow up without me or my selfish thoughts of getting to watch him grow.

Wenatchee World

Many of you have probably heard of Ted or his wife, two great athletes and far better people. I first met the Finegolds in Wenatchee years ago during the first Apple Capital. Lynda outbiked me if I remember correctly, despite it being a breakthrough race for me. Yes, I was outsplit by a girl! A few years later they started the Wenatchee Marathon, half marathon and 10K event that Amanda and I travel to every year around our anniversary. The event was started to raise funds and awareness for cancer. In an unfortunate twist of fate, Ted was diagnosed the following year, but like so many others, I never knew. He and Lynda recently did Boise 70.3. I saw them shortly before that at the marathon. He was great enough that I always made it a point to tell him how much what he did was appreciated and how I looked forward to seeing him later at Apple Capital or at the subsequent marathon. It's one of just two events (Clear Lake Triathlon being the other) I have done every time it was contested, which says quite a lot given my propensity for the shorter races.

When I got the news that Ted was ill, I had decided that next year I was going to say thank you by doing something I haven't ever done, which is to really race a marathon. I always hold back in favor of faster recovery, less pain and better performances in events within a week or two of Wenatchee. Somehow I've managed to win five of six events while saving myself for a marathon two weeks later. Oddly enough, I was in my best marathon shape the one year I didn't win, but could have. I really don't know what all that means as so many memories swirl around in my mind. Perhaps the point is that something that really breaks my heart doesn't make any sense. All I'm left with is those reflections of a great person and the great memories I have as a result. I don't know how he would have felt about my gesture, or if it mattered any more than any other performance paid for to fund cancer research. Unfortunately, I will never know as the heartbreaking news came right on the heels of the announcement and my subsequent decision.

My plan for this post was to detail my next stage in my injury comeback. Instead, I find the e-mail that makes it all seem irrelevant and life sometimes unfair. I'm an extremely competitive guy, so writing about races can rub some people wrong and/or be easily misunderstood. It seems that the times I create the most friction are the times when I'm sticking up for others rather than my own best interests. To avoid any of that, I'll just say that my race was a hard fought win to end a long drought.

Should things not go awry between now and then, I'll be in Wenatchee next year, to "race" for the first time the marathon I've won five times. I don't know if I've every really raced in honor of, or to honor, someone else, but I will do it next year. I'm not sure what else to do or how to express my feelings. Perhaps next April you can join me in Wenatchee for the 10K, half marathon or the marathon. It's all for a good cause that can't have a more vivid reminder of what we're raising the funds for. Like so many others, I sure will miss that guy and my heart goes out to his family and friends.

Competition ...

2010-06-24T14:13:00.000-07:00

Two weeks ago, for the first time in my life, I completed 100% of my training plan for a week. Either life would take time from training that I didn't make more time for or I talked my way out of training because of one excuse or another (too easy, filler training, injury worries, too difficult, doing something different, etc.). Many have been surprised to hear that from me, but it's true. What's more is that it wasn't just a transition or recovery week. This was a serious, kick-my-bootay training week that tested my physical and mental limits on a daily basis.

That week included roughly 4 times my weekly swim average, twice my bike average and more than double my weekly run miles. I had just taken another beating in a sprint triathlon, which is a distance I've twice placed second in nationals, being the first American in one of them. I still have plenty of injury rehab to do, but am far enough along that I don't need to continue with my weak training schedule. I was also fired up about some stupid crap that only adds to my desire to get back into shape. Virtually all of my injuries were accident related or some freak occurence rather than from pushing my body hard in training. In fact, outside of last year, it was only a shattered collar bone that took me out in about a decade or more of being injury free.

Last week, I had another good week of training. I met my bike and run goals, but missed out on one swim workout due to allergies and swimmer's ear related to more than 18K of lake swimming and nearly the same in the pool the previous week. Although it eats at me, I think I made the right choice. In these two weeks, I've been lucky to have had Evan Sims come out and do intervals with me twice. I can't even recall my last intervals, but suspect it was in February of '09 or sooner! Marathon John came out and ran with me twice at night. If not for him in these last couple weeks, I would have had lousy unmotivated runs that I might not have managed to complete. Josh Hadway came out and did a lake interval workout with me. 7 sets of 350m easy with 350m hard in a lake is not my idea of fun, so having someone not only there to do it with me, but make me give it my very best really helped. I hate to say it, but I got whooped and I'm sure it would have been that way (for now) without the heavy training week.

Now I'm on week 3 of 41 that leads me to the Armed Forces Championships. Should I stay committed, this will be the most consistent and intense training I've ever done for a significant amount more time than I've ever trained. It's always been laziness in the past that derails me. Right now though, I'm fired up and have something to prove to myself.

Speaking of Evan, he is fresh off a 31:41 10K in which he went out too hard and blew up. That's 5:06/mile for those of you keeping score at home. He was preparing for a half marathon and hoping to break 1:11, but was going out at a sub 1:10 pace. He stepped up big time and ran a certified half at 1:09:05, which GPS measured 13.16 miles. That's 5:16 per mile!

As for that other crap, I guess to each his own. Triathlon is also about comraderie for me. One local triathlete said she isn't going to "pay to have friends or people to train with." Unfortunately, with some of the athletes around here, that's what you have to do to be included in anything they do whether you've known them for years or not. Some will invite me to train with them when they come to town. I am one of very few to live in this training hot spot, so it's great to be included in the workouts when I have time. Others don't want out "outsider" triathletes to be seen among their ranks or something weird like that. So to those who choose to be that way, leave me out of your blogs, pictures, training and whatever else you wish. I need motivation people. Keep telling me how great you are so I can be inspired to start whoopin' all y'all like I used to. If you're beating me now and continue to do so, then good on 'ya for keeping it real.

Well, it's time for me to continue week 3 of 41. I guess if I put myself through hell enough times that when I drag you there on race day I'll be out of there and on my way while you're still trying to escape. Yes, I'm competitive like that.

Armed Forces, Post Falls and Trailblazer

2010-06-21T13:32:00.000-07:00

So there I was, hunched over, exhausted, on the verge of collapse. I'd been there before. In fact, it's the 8th time. This is the annual scene at the Armed Forces Triathlon Championships at Pt. Mugu Naval Air Base in California. It's just 10 miles west of Malibu, which is near LA (for reference). As I always do, I gave everything I have to help in the team competition. As usual, they'd drag me off to the medical tent for my post race recovery as I was unable to make it there on my own.

This would match my worst performance ever, but frankly, I'm pleased. Just a couple months earlier, I was seriously contemplating giving up my spot to someone else. It just didn't seem I would be ready in time. Although my 24th place finish was my worst, I was still in a solid 9th place for the USAF, which won the men's team competition for the first time. The women always seem to win. I've often speculated that the USAF women were so dominant that it lead to the separation of combined team into men's and women's divisions to give other teams a shot at winning. We also had the top overall male and female: Dr. James Bales and Kathy Rakel the legend.

Watching the video of the race, it seemed that Army had it wrapped up with Navy in second. It would take a bunch of men coming in at one time to move up to second. We did one better and had so many come in at one time, myself included, that we moved into first. Although they only score the top 8 men per team, my place and those on the team behind me bumped other teams' athletes down into a lower scoring position (XC scoring).

The swim was brutal, but my usual fast T1 (tops in the race I think) helped me bridge a little gap and get with a group that had the fastest biker in the race. I was immediately dropped. What was perhaps the second best biker in the race in Kidd Poteet and another team mate came up and allowed me to get on their train and ride to a top 15 bike split. It felt like an all out time trial as coming out of the 21 90 degee turns left me with a gap to make up. I nearly let them go as it was so draining, but I stuck to it.

The run leg was terribly hard. My bike legs are so weak that it left me with nothing for the run. Still, this is a competition that matters. Other teams' athletes were encouraging me along and helping me when possible. It took half of the run to start loosening up a bit. I started my charge and was moving up a little, but not enough to catch my team mate for 8th on the team. It wouldn't have changed anything other than an individual stat, so it's all good.

There is no world championship this year, which is a relief as I would have missed the cut for the first time in five years. Next year is the Military World Games in Brazil. I competed in the first ever triathlon in the MWG in India in 2007. It was absolutely amazing and I would definitely like to qualify for this race. We have our championship on April 3rd, so my training has already begun. It's almost like my training start from April 1st to 4th was for next year. Every race is a training race and I certainly get worked over quite a bit.

Last week I raced in the Post Falls Duathlon for the first time in years. I trained through it, so my legs were shot. As I ran in the lead group with 6:00 pace, I couldn't believe nobody was breaking away. In previous years, that would be slow. Once on the bike, I did OK until I started climbing. I held it together pretty well until I descended the other side. Fearful of crashing and uncomfortable on a bike that I rarely ride any more, I rode the breaks a lot and lost a lot of time and a good two or three places. I moved back up on the flats, but lost one more spot to a team on the return climb. No biggie. I rode the breaks a bit on the next descent, but that was because I didn't feel like going 50 MPH for the remote possibility of flatting = crashing = another long-term set back. I need to keep my wheels on the ground and keep my body safe until late July 2011. I don't want to crash after the MWG, but it's better if I do it after than before. Anyhow, when on the run, I did my best to negative split. I sucked it up and did just that. I came in third, but Royce Hogue (spelling?) was on a team and did all three legs for training and still beat me the day after racing a 10 mile run. Nice work there! I feel like I was 4th place. It was good training, so I'm OK with it.

Two days ago, I raced the Trailblazer. I love this race. It's close to home ... as it's basically at my home. I swim from my dock to the start line and the transition area is 50' from my property line. This would be a good test and gauge in many ways. First, Kalen Darling was racing. This dude can swim with the best triathletes in the world. I was hoping he would break 4 minutes. He did and was the first to do so in 27 years ... at least that's my belief as I don't have hard evidence in a race that doesn't keep splits for the 350m swim.

I also had a good racing friend in Josh Hadway coming. He's been working hard on the swim for a while now and has really stepped up his biking. His run is always strong, but he's coming off an injury. The bike leg is key though. I also had Greg Gallagher there. He stretched me out in the Iron Eagle swim, I gapped at the end, got passed on the bike, took over again in T2, then got passed for the final time on the run. He would be my gauge for the race. This one plays more to his strengths over me right now being a faster biker and runner vs. me being a faster swimmer and transitioner. The swim is a much smaller percentage, the bike is a larger percentage and the run is nearly the same.

Anyhow, Kalen lead all athletes in the swim with a few athletes coming out a good gap behind him. I was out in 5:00 to 5:02. It's easily my fastest time on the course this year. Josh beat me out, so good on him. Steve Anderson was right there in front of us too, which was cool to see ... in video. I blazed through T1 with my Piel for a :38 T1 and left in 3rd place behind Kalen and a team. Roger Thompson passed me at such an incredible rate at the beginning that it felt like he was sprinting to the finish line of a TT and I was still picking up speed. He rode a 26:40 by the way! Fastest time I've ever heard of was his 27:00. Josh went by me and I held on until the bottom of the hill a t Lakeland.

At that point, it was just me and a course I know so well. I worked hard using every bit of familiarity advantage I could while I tried to calculate just when Greg would pass me. Mathematically, if things were similar to the Iron Eagle, the pass would happen somewhere around mile 6.25 ... roughly the halfway point. It's a right hand turn, but with the trees, it's not a good spot to check to see how close the competition was. A couple miles later, I was listening to the cheers as I went through a picture point. It's funny how people who are your "friends" stop taking digital pictures the moment you and anyone else rolls through not wearing the same colors they are. I didn't hear any cheers right away, so I figured I had a decent gap, but still expected to get caught. Somehow, I made it back to T2 with a lead of around :50. My bike time of right around 31:00 was my fastest pace of the year at 23.55 MPH for 12.17M. My previous best pace was 23.01.

I made a bit of an error in T2 in racking my bike that cost me a couple seconds, but it didn't make a difference in the end. My :17 T2 let me start the run around :51 ahead of Greg and slightly ahead of Kalen whom I passed in T2. Kalen went blazing away as my legs felt like they've never run off the bike before and certainly didn't wan to. Every step was a physical challenge to try another and a mental challenge to avoid not trying another. As I turned into North Park at around .7 miles, I saw Greg was clearly closing the gap. I was going so slowly that I thought I should draw a line to see if I were still moving. Walking seemed like a better idea, but I kept plodding away. At the halfway point, I saw Kalen through the trees and knew he was far closer than he should have been! I gave chase and that was just enough to hold my 3rd place position. My run time was 18:07, which is well off my off-the-bike run best of 16:08! It's just 6:12 pace for the 2.92 miles.

In the end, Josh finished with a 50:57 after running around a 16:35. Look out when he gets his legs back. Kalen, who is in heavy training and working his bike legs back into shape, finished with a 54:33. I came in at 55:01, which was somewhere between 1 and 2 minutes behind last year's time when I swam with one arm, but hadn't gotten out of shape just yet (bike and run). This apple fell a long way from the tree. My bike and run really cost me, but I'm improving a lot and today was a good result. Greg came in at 50:17, so he made up a good :35 on the run, which might be slightly more than the Iron Eagle run. If not for my transition speed, I clearly would have been back in fourth. Knowing the course as well as a person can probably saved me a few seconds too.

Next up is probably some local run, then the Clear Lake Triathlon at the Clear Lake Military Resort here in Medical Lake. It's about as low cost as a triathlon can get. We will have a very accurate Olympic Distance race through Medical Lake, into the wheat fields of Cheney with the loop returning on Salnave to Clear Lake. The run will be a very scenic one on a course I train on regularly.

Comeback Kid

2010-05-31T09:29:00.000-07:00

On my last update, I recounted a large time gap between my injury and the Wenatchee Marathon. Repeated injuries, weight gain lead to a frustration that kept me away from competition. After finally getting myself some specific treatment, I found myself on the road to recovery, which I suspect is somehow different from recovery simply due to time. I think I really found myself again in that marathon and have been doing my best to get myself ready for the next big test: The Armed Forces Triathlon Championship.

On May 1st, I competed in the Whitman College Triathlon. It would be my first racing as an able bodied athlete since last year's Armed Forces Triathlon. Michael Gordon was there, so I knew I'd get a good gauge of where I was. I have never lost this race, but I knew a handful of athletes would probably finish ahead of me. I don't like to lose, but this was an important part of the healing process, so I was really OK with it.

My goals for the race were to swim a 6:45 for 500y (about a 7:27 equivalent for 500m). My recent best from early in the week was a 7:34. I figured I'd be holding back as I really expected a race performance and better fitness would get me through. For the bike, I wanted to average 21. It was better than my recent best 12.25M solo TT, but again ... better fitness and race performance. The bike leg was 10 miles on a similar "speed" course (flat with a gradual hill into the wind at the turnaround). My goal for the run was to go sub 6:30. That seemed possible, despite beating my swim and bike's recent bests back-to-back.

An interesting note is that Gordon didn't seem to buy any of the injury stuff or doubts about my performance. I've always been what I believe to be "real" or "more honest" regarding my fitness than nearly all I race. I don't really hide anything. All too often athletes hold back as if the psychological advantage out there on the race course will limit his/her opponent's fitness. My advantage is in being able to lie through the pain and do what doesn't seem my body can do. Even after I finished the race well behind him, he didn't seem convinced. I'm guessing too many times people focus on all the other good races to think that I was that out of shape. I proved myself right, but wish I hadn't :0).

So, I managed to swim a 6:31.98. This is the equivalent to about a 7:13 500m swim. That's well beyond what I expected considering I held back a bit. Gordon was about 13 seconds slower, but he swam in a heat ahead of me (pool swim) and I'd be virtually left in the dust from there. Transition was weak, but finding my rythm and routine was more important.

On the bike, I rode with a GPS, but with stop signs and lights, I kept bleeding time. I could factor it out, but I wanted my 21 without saying I technically rode it if you factor in this and that. Stopping and starting immediately costs 15 seconds and I hit that 3 or 4 times. I managed to get through the bike leg in 28:31.75, which works out to 21.03 MPH. Another goal down. It's been a REALLY long time since I was excited about riding over 21 MPH in a sprint, but here I am being jazzed about it. Progress is what it's all about.

On the run, I started out feeling that old familiar feeling and had to hold back. I ran a 6:12, then when I thought fatigue was making me fade, I ran a 6:10. Unfortunately, I got a bit disoriented zig zagging through Walla Walla and got lost. I knew I wasn't going to win, so no big deal, but I was running a 5K and didn't know how long I'd be runnning until I found the course again. Well, I found it after running an extra .41 miles. The blessing in disguise is that I found my legs out there and ran the third mile in 6:01 and finished the final .48 miles in 5:41 pace. I would have never seen that if I stayed on course. My overall average was 6:04 for the run. In all, I'd say it was a good day having met my goals in all three areas and was way ahead of goal on the swim and run.

Since then, I managed to improve my swim from that 7:13 equivalent to having done a 6:52 500m swim 4 days before the Iron Eagle. In 52 days, I went from 8:46 to 6:52! On the bike, riding my road bike (not TT bike) I managed to get my best pace over 22 MPH. On the run, I've dropped my best recent 3 mile to 5:41 pace. The last test before the big race was the Iron Eagle ... look at me blogging about it within 1 day!

I was in heat two with Greg Gallagher (hope I spelled that correctly). Like with Gordon, this would be a calibrated test. Again, although I don't like to lose, this is something I needed as a final test. My goal was to break 55, which would be a big jump from the Whitman College Triathlon. My swim goal was 7:00, bike goal to average 23 and run goal was to run hard ... yes, it was that simple this time.

Starting out, I had to hold myself back as the swim always sucks people in. Today was no different. I still went through the first 100m too fast, but didn't start making my move until about 200m. I pushed hard, but held back about what a triathlete should. Despite having trouble stopping my watch, I think my swim was around 7:00 ... I stopped it after several failed attempts at 7:04, so I'm good with calling it 7:00.

T1 went fairly well, but there were a few kinks I can work out to save a few seconds. I apparently passed someone else in T1 that I didn't know was there. On the bike, I was chilled by the winds, but thankful to have my Speedo FSII on to help me warm up after it dried a bit. My legs did not feel good on the bike and I wasn't wearing GPS, so I didn't know how fast I was going other than projections based on time from mile markers. I was battling a head wind, but my legs just felt a bit dead. I don't know if it's related, but I've got a big swollen bite of some sort on the outside of my left lower leg ... about the size of the palm. It's tender, but I just don't know that is a factor. I just know I wasn't feeling like I should. Still, I hit the turn in first with Gallagher closing in. The wind on the way back was nice, but he passed me at about mile 9 with such speed that it startled me a bit. Heading up the hill to EWU, I kept it reasonably close. My time was 26:10, which is good for 22.93 MPH. Normally the course is 10.1 to 10.2M, but I'm factoring it at 10 since I didn't care to go measure it. This is still a recent best for me, so I am pleased. It's also the first time I've been on my TT bike since Walla Walla and the 2nd time since last year. Armed Forces is draft legal, so my road bike has been the one of choice.

T2 was good, but not great. I made a few simple errors that disrupted the flow of T2. Still, I managed to get out onto the run in first. My legs felt unusually dead again. I know I biked hard ... probably too hard, but I just couldn't open it up. It's probably a good thing though because I started to get a bit of a gut/side ache. Running faster makes those get a lot worse and slows me down probably even more ... so it's probably a wash. At mile 1, Gallagher went by me and I thought ... I'm out of transitions so there is no passing him again. I don't like getting passed on the run, so I tried harder and it seemed to help, but not a lot. At the turn, I saw someone else was chasing me down, so I had everything I needed. Someone to chase for the overall and someone to flee for fear of being passed by some guy I don't even know! My run time was a bit disappointing for me with a 20:01. That's 6:26 pace, which is not good if the course was accurate. I may go measure it today to make sure I have the right distance, but I doubt I'll feel much better about my performance even if the course is a bit long.

In the end, I went somewhere around 54:43 (my clocking). I met my goal for overall, was close on the bike and right on with the swim. I know where I am now and what I need to do to keep improving. Speed is coming back very quickly. I sort of trained through this one with a focus on next week's race. It's a weak-minded plan, but I figure my swim should be right where I need it to be to get me out of the water in front of the likely fastest biker in the race, Mike McCoy who has been hitting the bike very hard for the last year. If we can get organized in what is usually the largest pack in the race, then I can sit on the back (shame on me) and save my legs for the run. I honestly don't think I can ride with them otherwise and be a productive helper in the group. Fortunately, he's on the USAF Team and should be willing to let me be a leach for a day. When I get to the run, then as long as my legs don't perform like yesterday, I am hopeful that with a taper I should be able to run about 5:40 pace for the 10K. It's flat, which will help me out since I've got weak hill legs right now and this race is what I've been building myself for through the last 2 months to the day.

Last year's race was my last magic trick. Perhaps it will be my first one for this year as I continue rebuilding the broken athlete that I used to be. Hopefully I will get back to where I was in the beginning of 2009 ... looking to be faster than I've ever been. Speed comes back quickly, but there's still a long way to go. Now I've just got to hope that my probable spider bite doesn't turn out to be a big problem like they sometimes are. I hate spiders and always fear things like this will turn into a chunk of rotting flesh ... sorry for the graphic remark.

Where in the World is Michael Bergquist?

2010-04-30T01:43:00.000-07:00

This is a long read, but I’ve been missing for a while and a lot of catching up is left to do.

On February 22, 2009, I set out for an early season test. It was a 25K in Birch Bay, Washington. The test was not just to see if I was in my best run shape ever, let alone early season. It was to see if I could shave four minutes off my best 25K at a time of year that was a few months before any previous year would have allowed me to set an all-time PR. Somewhere around halfway through, it seems that I got lost in an injury and never made it to the finish line. Instead, some guy that looked just like me came limping across the line in what would be an all-time PR, but by only about half of the four minutes I was looking for. As the days turned into weeks and into months, it became apparent that the athlete that I was got lost out there in extreme northwest, Washington in Birch Bay and never came back.

2009 was to be my banner year after taking a giant leap forward in 2008. I worked so hard to get ready to improve on a 19 win, 12 course record year that it seemed like a sure thing. Instead, injury after injury left me scrambling from race to race like a person hurting for money lives paycheck to paycheck. If I’m really good at one thing, it’s finding a way to milk the absolute best out of my body in a short period of time. Despite injuries to my right calf, both quads and a hamstring on different occasions, I tweaked things well enough to pull off a 3rd consecutive win at Wenatchee. A couple weeks later, I suffered for my team in Lincoln for a respectable finish on aggravated injuries. In late May I felt like I pulled off a magic trick laced with good luck at the Armed Forces Triathlon Championship. Then on June 1st, my luck ran out and I suffered a set-back about as tough as my shattered collar bone a few years ago. Later I would break a toe, reinjure my back, neck arm, calf, etc.

Despite my poor run of luck, I gave it my best shot to pull out of this nose dive. I swam one-armed in two triathlons, giving up an enormous amount of time. I missed the UberMan Triathlon, which I was going to skip my annual trip to USAT Sprint Nationals to do. I kept trying within the limitations of my injuries, but my form and fitness continued to fall apart. It seems that perfect races under less than ideal fitness saved me some embarrassment.

One race was the Spokane Half Marathon, which I don’t know if I wrote about. I had won that half twice, the marathon once and have competed in both on a few other years that I didn’t win. I knew the course well and knew what I felt were my limits, so despite my pride, I did exactly what I thought I could do and with nearly perfect pacing, I came in 2nd overall with a time that would normally not be 2nd, but why beat myself any more while I’m down.

After Spokane, I basically disappeared. It just wasn’t fun to read or write about something that was such a great source of frustration. I was gaining weight, terribly stressed at work and was struggling from one injury to the next. I kept trying to find that guy that got lost at Birch Bay, but the further I got from that day, the more impossible it seemed to rediscover myself.

Finally, in December, things started to improve. My right arm was healing so slowly that it was over six months from the injury until I could use my right arm to put on my seat belt. Circulation was very poor, which caused a constant ache in the winter. Oddly enough, it was another bother that seemed to bring me to a place where I could see the light at the end of the dark tunnel. I suffered a stiff neck at work that was so bad that I nearly parked my SUV and laid out on the tarmac at Fairchild. A visit to the chiropractor revealed an unexpected result. The shoulder injury I suffered in June was a torn right bicep tendon! I don’t know if there were other factors involved, or if it was just that, but I was finally able to be treated for something specific.

Fast forward to April 1st and I was released from restrictions and allowed to swim and bike again. On top of that, I was finally free of my job at Fairchild. I would have left at the end of last September, but wanted to make sure Amanda and I were fully covered for our baby in May. With leave (vacation days) built up to last me through the baby’s birth (late May), along with 6 months of transitional insurance, I knew we’d be covered medically and financially as I transition into new work.

The future was looking better, but there was still the Wenatchee Marathon on April 17th. I had been running, but hadn’t been “training.” In all, I put on about 29 pounds on my race weight of 151 pounds. I was barely able to run sub 6:00 pace for 3 miles, a pace I used to be able to handle possibly for 30 miles. Running a marathon seemed like a stupid thing to do, but this is more than just a performance test. It’s something Amanda and I do as a fitness getaway every year near our anniversary. It’s the only race I’ve done every year since it’s beginning. I was the three-time defending champion, won 4 of the event’s five years and on that off year (running easy for Lincoln) I finished 3rd when capable of winning. I had no illusions about winning this year. I just didn’t want to have an ultimate suffer-fest and embarrass myself by barely finishing the thing.

So, with the one talent that an injury (unless it’s a brain injury) can’t take away from me, I put a plan together to have me as ready as could be in 21 days. Actually having the time to run more than a few miles, I went for a 15-miler to see where I was. Unfortunately, I was fried at mile nine. I kept telling myself that the next mile would be my last and I could walk home. I never did walk, but I was going about that fast. I was hurting and barely made it!

Fast forward three weeks and I was at Wenatchee and people were talking about a four-peat. I was too proud to tell them it just wasn’t going to happen. I believed a sub 3-hour was possible, despite not having run over 20 miles once and that pace being faster than all but one recent run over 10 miles. My goal was to lock onto a 6:49, ignore the world and run that pace mile after mile. Unfortunately, I programmed my data fields with the last split pace instead of current split pace, so I had to rely on cumulative race pace, which is a lot less specific about what I’d be doing at the time.

Despite the slowing and constant holding back that takes place early in every marathon, I was running a 6:43 average. It’s not much faster, but if you run a marathon even a couple seconds per mile too fast then you will probably blow up. Very few people even split or negative split their marathons, but it’s something I pride myself on. I figured I was going to ruin my race since my limits were so much more fragile under my current conditions. At mile 6, the 10K runners split off and the leader (2 actually, but I thought it was one) was out of sight. I began the mental battle of telling myself that I could hold for 16 miles since I had done that recently and this was a supported race, not a training run.

At mile 16, Amanda (1 month to due date) and some other guy shortly after told me that I was 3:00 down. I said it was too much and it just wasn’t happening. Then I started to think about the difference between winning and losing. I started to think about my streak. I thought about all the times when I’ve lied to myself for long enough that I won a race instead of giving up.

I can’t be sure, but I think somewhere out there between mile 16 and 18, I found the Michael Bergquist that got lost 14 months ago in Birch Bay. I was charging hard in a race that I respect so much that I treat it with a delicate balance when in much better condition. I was pushing 5 or 6 miles before I normally do, but doing so on a day when I didn’t even know if I could run the entire distance.

Before mile 20, I caught the leader. That three minutes evaporated quickly and I felt like the race was mine to lose. I kept pressing as my goal was to get to mile 22 and then cruise on in. As I approached mile 22 on my tired legs that were ready to ease up and cruise on in, I saw what appeared to be a lead biker (at the bottom of the bridge switch back) with a guy sporting the red marathon bib numbers! Mile 23 was my fastest of the race as I gave chase not knowing if there was enough time to reel this guy in. I caught him before mile 24 as he was cramping terribly, which is usually the end of any quick miles for anyone. As a point of pride, I tried to hold sub 7 pace for mile 24, and made it through 25. Mile 26 was my first over 7 pace, but it was OK, I was safe and managed to run on in to break the tape. My average for what I measured 26.38 was 6:43 for a 2:57:22, the same pace I started out with. My hard charge dropped me below that, but I slowed again.

Since then, I’ve continued to rediscover the athlete that got lost such a long time ago. I’m down 20 pounds, but still 9 pounds over race weight and a lot less lean than the athlete of early 2009. I’m swimming and biking again. My swim improvement for 500m short course is as follows:
April 4th - 8:46
April 12th - 8:00
April 25th – 7:34

I’ve been on my bike a few times, but have only worked up to 12.25 miles. I started out without testing myself, like I did in the swim, but would have been lucky to ride 18 MPH. On my last ride, I went 12.25M at over 20 MPH … barely!

Fitness comes back quickly (you’re right Haley), but I still have a lot of rehab to do on a terribly weak right arm. My bike legs have a long way to go as well. Although I can always seem to calculate the very best my body will do out there on a run, I’ve still got a lot of catching up to do there as well. I was picked up for the Armed Forces Championship Triathlon once again. Swim and run are essential, so I’ll put myself through hell to get ready.

After that, I will be focusing on my marathon. I was left off the National Guard Team due to my lost entry and the guard coordinator deciding to not let me run even though the Lincoln Marathon was going to get me in. That means I will not be on the National Guard Team for the first time in six years, despite being faster than about half of the runners in my current condition. The Air Guard is a part of the USAF, so it’s always a point of contention when the USAF tries to take the top Air Guard runners to compete in the Air Force marathon. Since we both field our own teams, it’s never been fair for them to take our top runners, then compete against us. Well, this year, I will not be one of “us.” I’m really not trying to be spiteful, so much as I am being competitive. I want to show them that they made a mistake in leaving me off the team. I know I’m not an elite, even like some of our local runners; however, I’ve done well enough in the past that free entries and invitations have not been unusual. Someone who is supposed to look out for me, but denies the race my entry only fires me up even more.

It feels a lot more like I’m the Michael Bergquist that got lost at Birch Bay. That’s a refreshing change from the guy who went out there and jogged 3 miles to keep my consecutive running streak alive. It’s now at 2,313 days … and counting. See you out there …

Oh, and a few cool facts that I’ve learned since immersing myself into training again …

Haley Cooper ran a sub 3-hour marathon! Very impressive!

Roger Thompson is still super fit and doing things that I projected for myself, if not even faster!

My friend and first World Military Championship room mate, Tim O’Donnell, is now the 70.3 world champion! I always said his strength was biking, which is negated in ITU racing. 70.3 doesn’t hold the same prestige as the Olympics, which Tim just barely missed the alternate spot for. On the other hand, being world champion at anything, especially a more legitimate triathlon than a draft-legal one, is more impressive in my opinion.

The Road to Recovery

2010-02-22T15:44:00.001-08:00

So last year was a disaster. It's not exactly fun to write about disaster. I felt like the fireman. I was always putting out flames. One injury to the next derailed what was certain to be a great year. If you've been reading my irregular posting, then you're aware of the many injuries and my making the best of it every time.

I kind of finished the year off with the Spokane Half Marathon. I ran a very well-paced run, so for that I am thankful. I'd have to say my time was fair, but certainly better than what I expected. Injuries didn't stop there, but it's about where I stopped writing.

Since then, I discovered that my nagging shoulder injury was a torn right bicep tendon in the shoulder area. Part of the recovery/treatment is breaking up the fibrous adhesions. Apparently our body produces these for a temporary fix, like a temporary fix of a pot hole. It works for a short while, but it's usefulness runs out and is as much of a problem as the problem itself. So, I get the chiropractor leaning over me, putting all his weight onto one knuckle and supported by the other hand to make sure all the weight/pressure transfer goes right into that bicep tendon. It's then rubbed, like a noogie, over the the bones in the shoulder for a pain that will bring tears to a glass eye!

My other problem is a muscle in my left ankle is terribly flared up, sore and inflexible. It's been giving me grief for a couple months, but after having it worked on, it became worse. It's just starting to get back to a comfortable pain ... whatever that means.

The shoulder problem has eliminated biking since sometime last fall. I'm still not swimming either. On a bright note, I will be able to start again in two weeks. My overall weight gain went upwards of 15 poinds. My run slowed to the point that I was unable to run my previous marathon pace (sub 6:00/mile) for even 2.925 miles. My baseline test on 01 January was 6:10/mile. Still, as bad as it was and how frustrating it is, I'm thankful to have the ability to run. I can still run faster when in terrible shape than some who train. On the other hand, years of training and constant effort to maintain what I can come into play as well.

In my mind, I have one more hurdle to overcome as my body finishes up it's recovery from about 54 weeks of injuries. I have an oral surgery where my wisedom tooth will be removed to get bone from my jaw in the lower right (bone from the hip was out of the question). This bone will be used to do a bone graft in my sinus cavity on #3 (upper right) where a tooth broke years ago and had to be pulled due to the way it broke. The bone eroded away, so the bone graft will be used to strengthen the area for a post to put a crown on. To get to the sinus, they have to cut my gums, lift it up, drill above and to the side of the bone where the tooth root goes, then they will pack it in, sew it up and then do a bone graft on the bottom side as well.

I'm not going to lie. Like most of the rest of the world, I'm not a fan of the dentist. I haven't had any work done for a long time, but it only takes one time to know I don't like it. This will be about as bad as it gets in my mind. They'll put me mostly under and I always wonder if I'll wake up.

After this procedure is done, I'm not supposed to run for about a week. So, I'll get up tomorrow morning, run before the procedure, then sleep all day, night and most of tomorrow. Then I will get up and run an easy mile, despite the doctors advice. I'm guessing that will be around 10:00 pace. I doubt my heart rate will get over 110 to 115 to cause me to throw a clot. I also should be able to maintain an efficient enough stride that I shouldn't have any terrible jarring. I got a lot of practice when running with a shattered collar bone and broken ribs. I've run for 6 years, 1 month and 24 days as of tomorrow morning's run. I will not break my streak and choose to not put myself into the typical patient category. Perhaps a sedentary person shouldn't run. Heck, it would probably be better if I didn't, but the difference between those two types of people is totally different and most doctors aren't able to account for it. I've worked too hard for this and it keeps me going when I should be going, but otherwise would not.

Anyhow, my run pace going into this mess is almost sub 6 for 3 miles now. I'll try it today. I've also biked a few times recently. It feels great to be on the road, even if it is a struggle to go over 20 MPH. I clearly have a lot of work to do to get back into shape, but I will keep trying.

Midnight Mugging

2009-10-05T03:12:00.000-07:00

So I've basically done all but fall off the face of the Earth. My last report had me facing the dilemma of whether I should race the Uberman. More on that later, but for now, I'm trying to get back on track. I'm still running every day and typically get it done without much trouble. Today was a bit of an exception.

After a long work week and my first day off, I didn't get to my run until after 2 AM. We've been in a wind storm for a couple days, but it died down. We had a remarkably clear night's sky with a full moon to light the way. The temperature was cool, but comfortable with the proper attire. Shortly after starting my run, the creepy factor went up as I noticed through the corner of my eye that a neighbor's front door was open without any lights on. As I ran past a car, I noticed someone standing there sweeping or something. It didn't startle me, but it just seemed creepy. I'm a creature of the night and don't normally get creeped out, but this did for some reason. I actually looked back a couple times to see if the person that seemed more like a he than she was in pursuit. Both times it was nothing but an empty moonlit road.

As I continued on, I thought about how I was starting to feel good about my running again. I haven't felt heavy or slow for a few days now; moreover, I've actually been running some fair times. As I rounded the top end of the lake, I was pleased to have the additonal moonlight adding to the well-spaced street lights. Deer often run about there and I want to be careful as to not make a buck angry and charge me when I don't see him.

The cool breeze and my nylon sweats made plenty of noise, but it was still peaceful. As I rounded North Park and began to head back, the wind was at my back just slightly faster than my pace. As I exited the park and the shade of the trees, the moon and street lights cast separate shadows while the wind made my running pants sort of echo my foot step. This happened all at about the same time. It was a lot like an extremely vivid dream I had while in grade school. I was riding a big wheel down the road at night and had the same feelings of creepiness sweep over me. As I went past a driveway in my dream, I felt the sense of danger. Just then as I went past a couple cars, I saw someone crouched down between two cars and looking right at me as if he were going to get me. The moment drug on before he ran out at me. I jumped up and started running, but my freakishly fast legs were anything but. I tried to call for help, but nothing came out. Just as I was caught, I was able to scream out ... for real, in my bedroom. I scared the bejeezus out of my parents and the whole house, but nobody was more freaked than I.

My run tonight coming out of the trees, along with the creepy feelings from when I ran past that guy earlier, made this run feel like that dream. What I'll refer to as the sweat pants echo made it sound as if someone was running up on me. I looked back but didn't see anything on the road or coming from the trees. As I looked forward again I went under a street light and my shadow began to stretch out before me. Just then a shadow of another person moved past my feet as someone was closing in on me too fast for me to get away. The sound of my sweat pants echo was drowned out by the fast approaching feet of someone on my six at about 2:45 AM between the wooded hills, the lake to my right and and the pond to my left.

It happened so fast that I barely had time to react. I threw in a powerful burst as I dodged to the right a little all while looking back as I jumped into the air and did my best impression of an impromptu airial back kick while running forward. It felt far from powerful or effective as I was doing it, but my hope would be to land enough force to disrupt my attacker. If I could do that, then I'd have a fair chance to escape. As it was, the person was too close and moving in too fast before I could react.

Long story short, as I completed my arial back kick I looked and nobody was there. I landed awkwardly and dropped the hammer just in case. I looked back again and nobody was there. I then realized that the moon and more than one street light were casting multiple shadows of me. It was my shadow. Ever been scared of your own shadow? That was not fun. As I settled my nerves a bit more, I realized that coming out of the trees caused the wind to shift and amplify the sound of the sweat-pants foot-step echo. There's really not many spectators at that hour, but I would have loved to see that from the eyes of another! Despite being the guy that roams around in the woods and streets at night, I decided the creepy factor was too high, so I turned in. At least I got out there and did it. Now I'm actually updating my blog, so perhaps I'm coming full circle.

What have I been up to since I disappeared from the world of racing? Well, I decided to skip the Uberman. I think I would have been 9th, but that would be too much of a trip for the time, cost and my ability to be competitive. I was peaked up for the race as best as I could be, so I decided to do the Clear Lake Triathlon. I got my wish of being the One-Armed Bandit. Despite falling way behind with my one-arm swim, I caught up to the leader on the bike and ran away for a victory.

I've done a few smaller races here and there, but things continued to unravel with my injuries. I got to the point where I was probably not going over 15 miles per week running without any biking or swimming. I raced a half marathon at Fairchild in around 1:17 or 1:18 (not much stats for this number guy as I don't even remember or care about my time). I raced a 10K on base in just over 37:15 too. I did the Labor Day Family Fun Run surprising myself by running sub 6 pace. I also did the Human Race 5K that was only 2.6 miles, the USATF IE 5K championships here in Medical Lake the day after the Human Race, so I fell apart after a mile. Finally, my fitness hit a new low as I was 13 pounds heavy and in terrible shape when I did the Finch 5K. I was rested up for it, but it was just too much. I hung tough, but was basically left in the dust by several runners.

Since then, I decided to get myself back into shape. My arm is still screwed up as the surgeon doesn't actually want to do surgery. I get to go back every few weeks and he tells me to come back in a few weeks if it isn't better. Nice plan. I'm sure we can keep cutting him a check as I come back with an injury that isn't healing but still have to pay. Anyway, I've lost 4 of the pounds and am feeling comfortable on the road despite having only put in about 25 miles this week. That's easily the most I've done in a long time, but well short of my 35 miles goal.

Aside from the running, I bought the house next door. This will eventually expand on the Bergquist Training Center (BTC) awesomeness. Being in debt is frustrating, but Amanda and I are easily able to handle it. Speaking of Amanda, our top news is that we're expecting a little baby Bergquist in May. Life is always changing, sometimes for the better or the worse. However, this is one very exciting change that I have always looked forward to. It should be quite an adventure. I'm into that.

Murphy and Uber Me

2009-07-20T15:17:00.000-07:00

This year has been one of those days. A great plan is nothing without hard work and determination. I had all that, but you know what they say. Hard work and determination pays off with time, but laziness pays off now. It almost feels now like that would have been a better plan. Murphy’s Law, just like the Robert Burns poem “The Best Laid Plans of Mice and Men” seems to have a grip on my year that I had great plans for.

I thought this would be a story about the Trailblazer Triathlon, my favorite race. Instead it’s a story about Murphy and me. There are actually several lists of Murphy’s Laws. Here are some of my favorites.

If there is a possibility of several things going wrong, the one that will cause the most damage will be the one to go wrong.

If there is a worse time for something to go wrong, it will happen then.

If you perceive that there are several ways in which something can go awry, and circumvent these, then another way that you have not prepared for will promptly develop.

If things are going well, you are walking into an ambush.

You never run out of things that can go wrong. (This is the one that really worries me).

Smile … tomorrow will be worse.

I know there are far worse things that happen to people in a day and in a year, but for me, this year is certainly not a good one from the eyes of an athlete. Last year was, by a large margin, my best year of racing. As a point of contrast to this year, last year included nineteen wins and eleven course records. A couple bad days kept it from being more, but I’m not going to complain about that.

This year I was supposed to be better. I had a detailed plan that I started a couple months earlier than usual and was following religiously. Things were going really well. By mid December, I was in better shape than expected, then all hell broke loose. We had our worst winter ever. Training was difficult, but I didn’t care if hell froze over, I’d run there too. Problem was the pool roof isn’t as hard core as I am and decided to collapse. Given my difficult schedule, I didn’t have time to travel to a pool. No swimming for me until the roof was fixed. That would be 92 days. In the following months, I managed to get injured repeatedly. First was the calf, which left me unable to do more than a slow jog. This injury is about as limiting as an injury a triathlete can experience, which resulted in very limited biking and running. Just as I was healing up, I injured my hamstring. As I was recovering from the hamstring, I injured both knees. Later I’d injure my other hamstring. Somehow, I managed to pull it all together to have a great race at the Armed Forces Triathlon Championship, taking sixth overall. The day after I got home, I suffered a freak running accident where I broke three ribs, broke my right collar bone (again) and tore my rotator cuff.

Surgery will be needed to recover from this one and no amount of clever schemes can compensate for this problem. Needless to say, doing the Trailblazer Triathlon was a new experience. I had to swim with one arm. I struggled to make my way across the lake, inhaling water often and being left in the wake of nearly every competitor in the field. Once on the bike, I was able to suffer through the pains, imbalance of one-arm riding and weak power transfer to work my way to 3rd overall with a two-minute deficit on 2nd. Other than the difficulty training causing a bit of fitness loss, the run was the one place I didn’t have to give up a lot. I began to close in on Nate Duncan, a pretty strong runner. Although the gap was coming down quickly, I would have never caught up if he hadn’t lost a few precious seconds after turning off course. Once on course again, I was 16 seconds behind, but would get no closer than 15 seconds and eventually faded from my early efforts, finishing 3rd overall by 22 seconds on Nate and over 4 minutes to Roger Thompson. He absolutely destroyed the course with a time so fast that not even my seriously hampered performance can’t be used as an excuse. Not even close! Third overall would normally be hard to take, but this time it was encouraging.

The day after the Trailblazer I broke my left pinky toe. Since then, I’ve had some aches and pains, but haven’t injured anything else. Amanda injured her foot and says that I ran out of places to injure, so they’re spreading to her. I hope not.

Now I wait for the 31st of July to learn what the surgeon determines the path of healing is for me. I’m told it will likely require surgery and 6 to 9 months of recovery. For nearly everyone out there, my current dilemma is a no brainer. That dilemma is whether I should race the Uberman Triathlon in New Jersey on the 25th. I’ve done few races in my life over which I’d have trouble making this decision, but this is certainly one of them. This is an invite-only race pitting 10 elite men and 10 elite women against each other in an absolute all-out super sprint triathlon that will take about 17 minutes (200m swim, 4-mile bike and 1-mile run). If the year had gone according to plan, then I’d be strong enough that I’d feel good about my chances of placing well. There’s no hope for that now as I’m not only giving up way too much with my one-armed swim, but the trouble with power transfer/bike control and lost fitness will leave me far behind an invited-elite field. Right now I’m not the guy who earned a limited spot in this race. On the other hand, simply spectating an event like this would be great. I have the exclusive opportunity to spectate from within the race and be a part of the very first Uberman Triathlon. I said I’d be there, so I feel obligated to keep my word.

My question(s) to those of you who read this and are willing to answer: What would you do if you were in my shoes? Should I base my participation on my ability or should I show because I’m grateful to have the opportunity? We can never tell if things will get better or worse, making opportunities like this our last. I don’t want to make this a decision I’ll regret. I’m pretty sure I’ll recover and rise up again, but always have to ask myself “what if I don’t?” I was there in 1997 when I wasn’t supposed to ever be able to run again. I know I don’t have to do this, but I’m wondering if, on a grand scale, if I should or owe it to myself and others to simply show up and do my best.

Armed Forces Triathlon Championships

2009-06-01T09:47:00.000-07:00

Every year for well over a decade now, the Army, Navy, Air Force, Marines and Coast Guard meet up at Pt. Mugu Naval Air Base. We also had the Canadian teams as well, so we had a full house. This isn’t about a joint service mission or training. It’s not about aircraft, combat vehicles or other weapons of war. We’re not even working together as one team (the US Military). We come to compete against each other in the sport of triathlon. Some are just home from the war, some are heading out soon, others are waiting until their time comes and for some this will be their last military duty. This is not only a great way for us to blow off some steam and live a week of a world class athlete, but gives us a chance to see how we stack up against the best athletes in the military. We have Navy Seals, Combat Rescue Officers, Rangers, and Commandos numbered among us, but special forces isn’t triathlon. That said, we compete in the only draft legal ITU race in America that has amateurs, elites and pros competing head-to-head.

This has been a goal race for me since 2003 when I first competed. It was a great secret until then, which took me a couple years of searching before I found out who to talk to and get myself on the team. The top six to nine qualify for the Military World Championships, which I’ve done four times. This is one of the greatest experiences I’ve had as an athlete, so I train hard every year for the honor. This year there would not be a world championships as the host country cancelled about a year ago and we were unable to find a replacement. I thought the lack of a world championship would make the race less competitive, but I was wrong. It seems that the rest of these ultra competitive athletes want the incredible test that our championship always brings. I also suspect that Tim O’Donnell’s separation from the Navy played a roll on the level of competition. He’s won the last six and Mike Hagen won the six before that, so it seemed that we’d finally have a slim chance of standing atop the podium.

My training plan was supposed to deliver me to this race fit enough to exit the swim in a good enough place to ride in just about any pack on the road. I was supposed to be strong enough that I could bridge the gap from my pack to one ahead of me, which I was certain there would be due to the speed of many of the pro racers in the field. I was supposed to be able to hold my own against nearly anyone racing when it came to the run, but things didn’t turn out that way at the end of my training. As an athlete that rarely suffered an injury that truly limited my training and racing, I found myself trying to overcome injuries for nearly all of the 11 weeks leading up to the race. I lost a lot of motivation and commitment when my computer was erased along with all my training data. The pool at FAFB was also closed 92 days due to snow loading, which cost me dearly in the swim. Despite the losses, I forced myself to do everything I could to peak up for the race. I lost weight, did some hard training and put everything together in what I thought would be just enough time to pull out of this tail spin.

Mike McCoy and I went down together on Wednesday for the race on Saturday. He’s been dropping me in the swim and bike lately, but my goal was to stay close enough in the swim to bridge the gap in T1 and try to break away on the bike. When it comes down to the run, only small gains can be made if you have the right person to draft into the usually moderate to strong winds. We got a bunch of free training and racing gear, a few meals, free rooms and other events to keep us from getting too bored when we weren’t doing whatever taper training we thought necessary prior to the race.

The women started the two-loop ocean swim ahead of the men by some unknown amount of time. I’m wearing my new Zoot Zenith and didn’t want to test my ability to take it off while wearing a watch. After the last female rounded the first buoy about 350m away, it was our turn to do our ITU beach start. I lined up in the back and decided to start out comfortably hard and work my way into the race rather than fight my way into a fearful panic. I had a bit of a lazy start, but I made it over the waves well and managed to tuck under the incoming waves as I got started swimming. I swam wide and found myself holding my own bit of space and feeling fairly relaxed. There was no need to worry now because I know I did everything I could for this year’s race, even though I’m in worse swim shape than December and worse run shape than in February. As I swam I focused on how pleased I was to have not given up on myself. I felt good about my chances, despite having almost half the men’s field pulling away quickly.

We rounded the first buoy and headed into the headwind and crashing waves. Ironically, I seemed to hit every breath at just the right time. When I thought I was going to inhale some salt water, I got lucky and took in just air. Later, I would discover that many had a terrible struggle here, so I felt even more fortunate considering I had my way with the ocean twice on that stretch. As the swim went on, I found myself holding a position in a rather large group. That bode well for the bike, but I still tried to pick it up on lap two. I spent a lot of time looking at swim cap numbers to later share stories with those I swam against. The best part about the swim was on the last stretch when I began to wonder just how far McCoy was ahead of me. I looked back and to my left and a half body length back is #37, Mike McCoy. Sometimes I get the feeling that things will be OK before I have any proof that they actually will. Seeing #37 was a great confirmation for me. I knew he was ready for this race, especially on the bike, so I settled down and cruised on in. My time was 25:06.98, good for 40th among 108. The fastest swim time was 21:52.70 by Nicholas Vandam (not sure on spelling, but that’s how it is in results. They didn’t spell my name correctly, so at least I was able copy correctly from what I had). I suspect that Nicholas and several others swim well under 20 for 1500m. I didn’t do my homework, but when this race normally has a half dozen sub 20:00 1500m swimmers, I seriously doubt that it’s accurate when a field with several top pros has only five go sub 22:30.

T1 went fairly well for me. I tried what is essentially a new wet suit for a big race. Normally that’s a terrible idea, but I was so grateful to Zoot that I did it anyway. I also had a few swims in it prior to the race. The Zenith didn’t exactly come right off, but I was going as hard as I could and managed to have a great split to make sure I exited T1 with the many others strung out in the swim with me.

My only real point of contention was that the transition area was not equidistant. We had racks on the left with a fence at the end of each rack. We’d have to run down the rack to our bike and then back to the run path. Although I did not have the worst spot in the transition area, I had a worse spot than all but a few of the men in the race. I was determined to be so fast that it didn’t matter, but no matter how fast I go, running extra distance costs time regardless of how I try to sugar coat it. Moreover, being at the end meant I had a lot of athletes to navigate around coming and going in T1 and possibly in T2. I don’t like to complain, but this is a national championship and should have a level playing field. This wasn’t and I figured it would cost me a minimum of 8 seconds.

It was a tangled mess getting to my bike and getting back out of T1, but I was very aggressive and found my way to the mount line before McCoy. I sat up and waited for him, but it turns out that waiting was not necessary. We had a plan for one of us to break away and have the other surge to catch up, but our communication was off and I got boxed in after my pull nearing the first 90-degree turn. There would be a total of 21 90-degree turns and four at 45-degrees. Exiting that first 90, McCoy took off and I could do nothing but sit there and see glimpses of his attack around the helmets of the riders in front of me. Eventually I got out the back side and finally had some open road to work with. I rode hard for a couple miles before realizing I wasn’t going to get him. In the mean time, I had a couple Army guys constantly nagging me to quit pushing so hard because that’s not how to pace line. I told them “This is nationals. I’m not here to practice riding in a pace line and I don’t care if the pack is comfortable with my pace. If you can’t draft me, then slow down.” The pack split, which is a good thing since I’d rather have fewer riders to contend with.

McCoy eventually eased up and we caught back up to him. I had a lot of trouble getting a good draft or finding the pace line that efficient. Half the time I thought I’d be run into the ditch or have a rider shoot off the front and clip my front wheel. I’ve never seen riders peel off the front so fast that it looked like they were swerving around a dangerous object at the last moment. Things got reckless, so I sat off the back with a gap for all but a few sections where the group was under control. McCoy drove the pace most of the time as we reeled in group after group and spit one after another out the back. I constantly had to bridge, but even wasting the energy was better to me than to risk crashing. I rode the 5th fastest time on the day with a 55:06.93. McCoy had the fastest time of the day with a 54:49.29. Drafting on a flat course can be dangerous, but it can be fun too.

T2 was my place to shine, but coming in with a group of about 10 with McCoy and two others having gotten away on the last lap and about 10 seconds up on us, the transition area was cluttered again. I did my best to get in and out, but my heel wouldn’t go in my shoe. It felt like it took forever, but I would guess that I only lost about four to six seconds. My legs were fairly tired, but I was ready to get to the run.

To my absolute amazement, I heard that the first female had just headed out and thought I heard them say something about number ten male heading onto the course as I was about to head out myself. This was good news. We had a four loop run course, which would really only allow me to see where I was on lap one. The course would be flooded with athletes coming and going, so I started my count. As we approached the first out-and-back, I realized the few people I had moved by put me in a pack of four holding spots nine through 12. If I could finish first among them, then I’d be really pleased. My goal was to go top 10 and it looked likely now.

McCoy jumped on my six and I drug us through the first section of headwind. It was tough, but there were athletes to catch and the run is where I make my move. Despite being exhausted and running hard enough to start dropping people, McCoy told me it was now or never and I had to go. We were though the first of four sections of headwind, so I took off. In this race, I always push too hard and somehow my body doesn’t shut me down. On lap 2, I had one of the four still on my six as I pulled him through the wind. I was loosing my senses, so it was just my racing instinct. I was going to beat him the tough guy way, which is to run so hard that he burnt out drafting me. Lap three he was still there. I lost track of my laps until I heard one lap to go for the leader. As we approached the final section of head wind, I surged and got a gap on my parasite. Knowing my pain put him in pain, I pushed even harder to make sure he couldn’t come back. At that point I realized I was catching a couple more in front of me that were running quickly. I didn’t know what lap they were on, but a carrot is a carrot. I was starting to make some unpleasant noises in my attempt to continue on with the pace. Eventually I made the final turn and had only closed slightly. We had very little left to go, so I started my surge for the finish early and kept pushing harder and harder. Despite my best efforts, I could not catch those two who happened to be right in front of me. My run time was 37:14.39, good for 9th on the day. We ran 6.4 miles, so adjusting for the extra would have put my 10K at 36:09. It’s not a great time, but it’s respectable and kept me from getting passed. The fastest time was 34:08.98, so I absolutely got hammered.

As it all turns out, I crossed the line in 7th. Completely spent more than previous years, I couldn’t even walk with help. I had to lock myself up there refusing to move. Luckily, the doctors know my number before the race starts and have it called into them as I’m approaching the finish. In seven years they’ve come to know how hard I push here and I was pleased that I was able to find it within myself to push to the limits again. I do it for my team, for my country and for myself, but it really sucks feeling like I could die. They worked on me until awards. I put my warm-ups on that a team mate brought to me and stumbled to awards. Unlike previous years, I did not get to stand up front to be named to Team USA. We wouldn’t have one this year, but it felt just about as good. I didn’t go top six, but I probably would have gotten the first roll down. It felt like this year was more competitive than ever and I was glad everything came together at the last moment like it did. My overall time was 1:59:00.56. The two guys in front of me finished 7.81 and 9.06 seconds in front of me. That’s right in the ball park of the minimum amount I thought I’d lose in T1 before the race started. It’s difficult to tell what it actually was, but drives home the point that equidistant transitions are really important in these big races. If I had passed just one of those guys, then the Air Force would have been one place up in the overall. The number of other athletes we had may have moved up a spot too, so that’s unfortunate.

The Air Force Women dominated and easily won the women's team competition.

A couple names will no longer be listed among us. A personal favorite of mine is Dan Frost who had a flat, but managed to salvage his race for something less than he would have had, but better than a DNF. You will be missed Frosty. Heidi Grimm will be going out in style tying the record of 6 wins, which two men have done. Also, Mike McCoy will be moving to Illinois for a couple years, so I’ll be on my own in training again, but I hope things work out next year like they were supposed to this year. If they do, then I’ll be on my way to Holland or Belgium, depending on who hosts worlds. Bottom line, I'm extremely grateful that I have the opportunity to be part of such an awesome group of individuals.

Point zero zero five!

2009-05-20T00:23:00.000-07:00

My lack of posting this year has been indicative of the way my year has been going, which is to say it hasn't been going much at all. I had about two weeks to get ready for Wenatchee Marathon after my injury. Being creative and aggressive is necessary for the two-week training plan, but I got it done. Two weeks after that was the Lincoln Marathon. How do you recover from a marathon at the end of a two-week training plan and train for the next one in two weeks? There really isn't a good answer for that other than do the best I can, which is exactly what I did. Amanda and I do Wenatchee every year during our anniversary; moreover, I'm the only one to have done the marathon every year, so I choose not to skip it. This is the only race I've done every one of.

Lincoln is the National Guard Marathon Championships, which I have the honor of doing. I represent the Washington Guard. My body was angry with me for doing this double. It's normally not a problem, but I'm normally in a lot better shape. At this race, I went for a sub 2:45. I felt I owed it to Team Washington to give it my best and put my neck on the line. It was tough from the start, but I was holding strong, managing my fluids and nutrition and hoping a lot. Hope never ran out, but my energy did. Around mile 18 I started to fade. I backed off, but it wasn't enough. Around mile 22, it turned into a difficult struggle. My miles slowed to over 7 minutes, but I pressed all the way to the line. I lost a lot of time, but managed to cross the line in under 2:51. I think I was 2:50:38, but can't recall and am too lazy to look it up. I was around 17th overall and 7th or 8th in the National Guard. Not bad considering the circumstances. The entire run I kept thinking about how certain I was about my chances of going sub 2:37. My how things change so quickly.

Following Lincoln, I found my left knee and both hamstrings giving me a lot of grief. Injuries are pretty frustrating, but these were better than the calf injury. I could still run as long as I was careful and kept the pace under control. That meant between 7:30 and 8:00 pace. It's a lot better than the 9:30s when my calf was out. Injuries have been really rare for me, so I still consider myself fortunate during this time when I'm injured more than I'm not. It's been hard to stay motivated and patient. Those two things just don't seem compatible. I managed to keep my appetite and gain 9 pounds. My bike had only been ridden once (yes by me) since April, but I've been swimming a moderate amount. It might sound like I'm feeling sorry for myself, but I'm not. I'm enjoying the absence of constant fatigue and pain of training and all of the extra time that I have in my schedule due to the lack of training. I miss the training at the same time.

Last Sunday, 17 May, was one to remember. I still work nights, so I didn't quite realize how close I pushed my nap to the point I had to leave. I started packing my gear at 8 AM for a race that was at 9. I left at 8:18 and showed up at 8:56. This was actually fairly fun for me. I unloaded my car by the transition area. My team mate Mike McCoy took my bike while I got my gear. Amanda took my $25 and got me signed up. I finished at the car, passed my transition gear to her as I ran to registration to sign my life away and scooted off to the start line with about a minute to spare. Mike pointed out where my bike was and it was time to start.

I'd been predicting it since last year. Josh Hadway is going to be a monster to deal with as he settles into multi-sport. He's a fiery racer with tons of talent. That was on full display as soon as the race started. He bolted away from the field so fast that it was almost humiliating. On the other hand, getting whooped comes a lot easier when I know I'm not even close to my best. He put about 5 seconds on me in the first 30. Even as tough as my last 10 weeks have been, I knew that kind of ratio wouldn't hold out. It didn't matter though. Catching him on a bike I haven't been riding wasn't going to happen anyway. I was content to chase McCoy and others.

I survived the run without quitting or getting too far behind (just over a minute for 2.44 miles). Josh must have slowed down to only around :20/mile faster than me. Transition was a nightmare as I didn't have things set up, didn't have an extra pair of shoes and was not in a good spot. I'm not complaining. I have nobody to blame but myself if I cared to do that. These are just details that explain why I was in there long enough to bake a cake. Once out on the road, I found myself falling further behind McCoy who was slowly catching Sam, while Josh was pulling away from everyone. I held on until two riders passed me. One was Nate Duncan and the other was that other guy. I was able to hang with them, falling back and fighting my way up to them numerous times.

We hit T2 and this transition was only marginally better than T1. I figured the best I could do at that point was 4th, but even when I'm hurt and out of shape I lie to myself. For about a half mile I hung with Nate and that other one guy, then proceeded to make a move. I'm not sure why. I really didn't care, but it's just how my brain works. I'm the running version of Seabiscut (horse movie). At the end of lap one, I could see McCoy and Sam well in front of him. What the heck ... why not try to catch them. So I cranked it up and managed to close the gap steadily. Only a furious finish was able to close the gap to McCoy. The finish was my closest in any race ever. According to the chip time I was .005 behind him. According to the photo finish, I was about 6" in front of him with my lean. I really needed him there to make me work. If I had been by myself, then I would have given up long ago and cruised on in. My second run was better than my first and only 31 seconds slower (vs. over 1:00 for the first 2.44M run) than Josh and faster than the rest of the field.

Now the challenge is to peak up as well as I can for Armed Forces Triathlon Nationals. My body responds well to high intensity over a short period of time. I went into Spring Thaw tired after a hard week and a race a couple days before, so my condition wasn't as bad as Josh made it look. He would have whooped me either way, so there are no regrets. My swim and run are most important for this draft legal race. I'm also on leave this week, so I can do whatever I need to do to get ready. I've already lost 3 of those overeating pounds and have had a couple more really great workouts. My best races always come at the end of the summer. Despite my best plans to make this my best year ever, it looks like it will be the same old story with a much tougher beginning. Josh inspired me to get my fitness back an McCoy helped stoke that competitive fire. Things are looking a little brighter for me toward the end of May.

That said, I have no pics. In fact, I have very little of anything nowadays after my computer crashed and I lost everything until I get the computer back from a computer lab. There are no guarantees, but they'll try. I didn't realize I had anything I'd miss if the computer crashed. All my pictures and a couple years worth of training journals ... both irreplaceable.

Fitting in?

2009-04-21T05:38:00.000-07:00

I don’t know how many days I’ve run in my life. I started when I was 4 ½, but was pretty lazy for a lot of it. I do know that I’ve run every one of the last 1,938 days. The most recent one on Monday, 20 April, the folks around Medical Lake looked at me differently. It was a great day. The sun was out, the winds were calm and the temperature was high enough that I’d roll my window down if I were in my car. After the record snow and so many very cold days, a great many of the people of Medical Lake were out enjoying our first truly great day by fishing or hiking the trail around the lake.

Having run every day for years on end, along with my keen interest and education in psychology, it’s not hard to notice a change in the way people saw me today. As a competitive athlete, I’ve been racing my way around the lake at speeds the average stroller doesn’t quite understand. These are the people that think any form fitting material is spandex. To them, spandex is gross and the people who wear it are a little funny. Ironically, they’re often seen staring at magazines and admiring the fit individuals wearing the same kind of form fitting clothes. I’m far from narcissistic, but even as picky as I am, I know I look as fit as those individuals on the magazines.

On this great Monday, I wore a plain brown T-Shirt and a pair of oversized sweat pants that were too long for my short legs. I labored around the lake as I have so many days since injuring my calf in February. This day was a particularly tough one and the people who saw me knew it. They were new faces, but it was as if they understood the pain I was going through to simply keep up what I’d have to call running. It was strange to feel like they could identify with me. Although they saw me suffering to simply keep up a slow pace, the way I got there was the piece of information they will probably never know.

After my injury, I had to take it easy for a while. I ran no more than three miles at 8:30 to 9:45 pace for about six weeks. Few people saw me laboring away as my schedule often has me running at hours so late that it’s rare to see someone driving. It was torture to me since I normally push the limits and take plenty of risks. I had planned on doing the Snake River Sprint Triathlon, but had to work. Well, that was until Amanda was scheduled to come in on the first day of the triathlon. I didn’t think it would be appropriate to tell her that I couldn’t pick her up from the airport because I was at a race for the first 20 hours she was home after being gone since last year. She committed to serving the country and to not greet a troop returning home is an awful thing to do, even if it is for something great like a race :0). I also didn’t think it would be appropriate to work, so I stood my ground and said I was NOT going to work on the 10th.

In hindsight, even if I could have raced, I’m glad I didn’t. Roger Thompson laid down the law. He beat my time from last year by :22, despite biking a mile further than I did last year. I could have gone possibly as much as a minute faster then (on the run), but riding that extra mile would leave me in a distant second. Toward the end of last year I was racing significantly faster, but I doubt even those performances would be fast enough to hang with him this year. I hate to say it, but I’m actually a little afraid to race him now. There’s nothing wrong with getting beat. It happens to me all the time, but I’m as competitive as a person can be and I don’t like to get beat. If I can get over these unusual schedule difficulties and injuries, then I’m sure I can get back into shape. If I can do that, then I’m sure I can give the really fast guys like Roger a run for his money. If nothing else, I have to man up, get back into shape and quit being a coward.

After having seen those intimidating results and having Amanda home, I got myself out there and started training again. I’m not sure I was fully ready to hit it hard, but I really didn’t have a choice. Every year Amanda and I do our anniversary run in Wenatchee. I’ve done the marathon every year it’s been held. It’s the only race of any type that I’ve done every single one. Moreover, the only time I didn’t finish first was in the second year as I had to save my legs for an all out assault on the Lincoln National Guard Marathon Championships, which is always two weeks after this race. So with two weeks to train I had to figure out how to best use every day and still have some rest time before the race. I tried to push the pace on a few occasions, but didn’t have any speed. I managed to get a continuous run of over 10 miles once and a few days with a total of just over 10 miles.

Race day came and I honestly didn’t think I could run under 3 hours. I didn’t know if I could even run the whole way. That 10 miler really left me hurting, so in a lot of ways I didn’t know what to do. The race started and I settled into a brisk pace. I felt like I was pushing a little too hard, but I had a tall skinny guy with wide shoulders to draft. We were holding just under 6:40 pace, so after we turned around at mile 3, I decided to try to maintain that pace. I was really nervous about performing poorly. I was also a bit disheartened that we were racing a new course, which meant someone else would have the course record en route to breaking my streak at two. At mile 10 my legs were really feeling banged up. I’m not used to running that far, especially in racing flats (lately). I really concentrated hard on making every step a little bit softer. I’ve never focused on every step for 16 miles before. My hydration and nutrition went off exactly as planned. At mile 20, I really believed I’d have to walk by mile 23, but as usual, I lied to myself. I was fried, but told myself that if I could run just one more mile under 7, then I could walk. Next it was a half mile. I had 3 seconds in the bank, so I decided to spend it and see if I could make it to mile 25. Then one lie after another, one quarter after another, I found my way to mile 26 with every mile under 7:00. I cranked it up for the finish and to my absolute amazement, despite fading in the last three miles, I finished in 2:51:38! My goal for Lincoln was sub 6 pace and I believe I would have been able to do that if I didn’t get injured, but I never expected this at Wenatchee. I have no idea how I ran 6:32.75/mile when I had trouble running that for less than three miles. The marathon is a thinking man’s race. That’s one thing I always have going for me. That and a whole lot of lies. Perhaps I’ll be able to go 2:45 in Lincoln. It’s not 2:36:59, but sometimes goals have to be adjusted.

So two days after Wenatchee, I’m hobbling around the lake again and keeping the streak alive. The people who saw me appeared to understand what I was going through and identified with me. On the other hand, they had no idea that I ran a marathon two days ago. They didn’t know that the guy dressed like the typical jogger was actually a “spandex-wearing” race-a-holic. They also must not have seen that look in my eyes. I’m talking about that competitive fire that rages within. After such a rough start to the year, I just wasn’t feeling it. I’m glad to have it back.

Training Update

2009-03-27T10:48:00.000-07:00

Three weeks down. That’s what it was to recover from my frustrating injury. Frankly, the time flew and I enjoyed having more time to relax and do other things. March 23rd was go time. First up was the swim. Fairchild’s pool was finally open. After absolutely no swimming for 92 days, I needed to get a baseline after my longest known layoff (excluding my shattered collar bone). For 500m, I managed 7:46.0. My goal was to go sub 8, so I was pleased that my form was able to carry me. I’m not going to lie. It was tough to go the distance. Had the pool not closed, my plan was to be a solid sub 6:30. Looks like I’m a little behind.

Next test was the bike. I went for a 12.21M TT. This is over triple the distance I’ll race for Uberman, but still an important test. Although biking is low impact, I’ve tried to take it easy to avoid aggravating my calf injury. Ironically, my pathetic biking schedule was the bulk of my training. With the Softride and training wheels, I rode in a wind storm. It was tough going to start. My pace was so slow I don’t want to list it here. On the other hand, if you are into math, you can figure it out knowing I averaged just under 27 MPH on the way back. The only thing I really liked about my pace was the cool numbers of 12.21M @ 21.12 MPH. I’m not sure how I’m going to ride 4 miles in 9:00.

Monday was an easy run of the Eastern State Hospital 3.42M loop that I ran at 5:32 pace on my birthday (November 20th). Tuesday I decided to test my fitness on the run like I did in the swim and bike the day before. Sure, a couple days rest would give a better number, but I won’t have that luxury in a triathlon. I ran the 3.42M hard. Although I was glad to be under 8:00 pace for the first time in weeks, I was only able to run 6:20 pace. I was winded and tired early in the run. That doesn’t bode well for the Lincoln Marathon on Bloomsday where I’ve planned on running sub 6.

So I’m clearly not where I’m supposed to be. I’m way off! Despite this mess I find myself in, I’m not going to throw in the towel. Measuring myself by the pace at which I compete is a poor measure. The effort I give is what really counts. It’s the only thing I can really control. It’s really all anyone can control. No matter how fast or how slow I am, I will never let anyone push harder than I do. From here on out, I’m going to try to be smart about it, but plan to put myself through hell in order to do some catching up. Clearly my service commitment limits my schedule, but I’ll do what I always do, which is to do the best I can. What I can’t make up for with fitness, equipment and plan, I’ll try to make up with guts. I’m not going to count myself out, but I’m not going to be placing bets either.

Stuff and Things

2009-03-13T12:06:00.000-07:00

Well, it's been a while since I last posted. It's not as if I don't have anything going on, but I'm not exactly sporting the best sports story so far this year. Frankly, I'm having a really tough year. What is it they say about the best laid plans? Also, I normally put a lot of thought into my post so I'm not skipping randomly between one thing or another.

This is where Amanda lived for over 8 weeks. They never complained that the place was too messy or dirty.

My PR at Birch Bay could have been better if my legs didn't end up so sore that I got a little more pain than the marathon (which I skipped in favor of the 25K) would have provided. I hobbled around for a few days and headed to Texas to see Amanda graduate BMT (basic military training). She was the top graduate of all 803 airmen! It was really great to see her. Although I didn't need her to be gone for months to realize it, life goes so much more smoothly when complimented so well with another. For me, it's Amanda. All those things we do in life that take a little time or help are so much easier when done as a team. It's been a struggle for me to keep up with work, training, the house and a few other tasks I have chosen to push through.

The first flight marching through carries all the flags. It's pretty impressive looking. Next up is the band flight which is followed by all the other flights. There were 803 airmen in flights of around 50 to 60 airmen each. Amanda was #1 of all of them. It was fun to watch them march around the field. I wonder if that's how the battle formations looked back in some of our previous wars.

While in Texas, I ran a 5K that I found online before departing. It looked to be a really small race, but I signed up. It's difficult to get good training when traveling and away from home, so this would help out a little. It doesn't matter if there's no competition, there's something about strapping on a race number that gives me super powers. Well, it gives me something extra anyway. It's a lot easier to run a fast pace. This race didn't really turn out that way. I thought I'd just run away from the 20 or so other runners and win by a mile (figuratively speaking). Starting out, my legs felt heavy and slow. I wondered just how much a recovery week and traveling took out of me. At the first Garmin split of a half mile, I realized I wasn't doing all that bad. I was sitting around a 5:30 pace (not really sitting). I didn't care to look, but some dude was drafting me like a real champion. Although I would prefer to win, this was simply about getting a good run in, which I was doing. For 2.5 miles, I simply ran hard with this guy on my six (6:00 ... no I'm not a pilot in the Air Force). We were still holding 5:30s.

Amanda receiving her award from the commander and command chief. I was more than happy to be in the pic to celebrate the moment too. They also let me hand out the Fittest Airman award. Amanda was runner up for that, but it was still fun for her to have me be part of her ceremonies.

I didn't realize it until afterwards, but I thought I was at mile 2 when we were at mile 2.5 (I'm usually aware of exactly how far I have to go until the pain stops). The reason that's significant is because this guy surged past me. Cool! It was my turn to draft. I sat on his six (no he's not a pilot either) for about a half mile or just under. At that point, he put in a seriously hard surge. We started ascending this really steep, but short hill and I was still running 5:30 as I climbed this bugger, but he was pulling away. It was too rich for my blood with about a kilometer to go, so I let him go. After I crested the hill, I could see the finish line. He was seriously wanting this one and running like he stole it. There was too little time to light up the afterburners and run him down. I thought the course was about a half mile short until I looked at my watch afterwards. It was around 3.15 miles (can't remember right now). It was just a touch long! Had I known I was so close, I would have gone with him. In retrospect, I'm glad I didn't. At around the actual mile 2, my legs really started to get sore and the left calf muscle (aka bull) has been really angry with me since. My time was 17:17. I'm not sure what his was, but it was faster than that by a few seconds. It was a good run, but I'm paying the price for it now.

Amanda was in the band flight. She played the symbols. She's on the other side ... allegedly. I couldn't even spot my own wife. They all looked alike.

I'm two weeks into this injury and it's finally getting tolerable. This is the first time since shattering my collar bone and breaking some ribs that I've actually not been able to really train. I've been injured, but I was able to get through it being careful to not push too hard. Walking around with a limp is frustrating. I don't like to be injured and don't like a million people to see that I'm not invincible. In this two week period, I will have run about 30 miles at paces between 8 and 9:40. I don't recall when the last time I put in a couple of 15 mile weeks. On top of that, I have only been on the bike a couple times due to the injury and weather. If that weren't enough beating while I'm down, the pool at Fairchild is still closed. I haven't been swimming in 3 months! The winter is when I primarily focus on my swimming. Needless to say, being in the worst early bike shape in years, not being able to do more than fake my way through a run and not swimming isn't going to get me ready for this race season. To those of you out there who have wanted a piece of me, come and get it. There's nothing I can do to stop you. Unfortunately, I won't be able to do the St. Paddy's 5 in Spokane or 10K in Tri-Cities, so you'll have to wait for another day. Unless I can get in shape in a month, this won't exactly be my year of years that I've been hoping for. I've tried, but sometimes life happens in ways that I can't avoid, so I'll just go through it and see you on the other side.

Each year, the Air Force Athlete of the Year gets a gate named after him. It just happens to be at Lackland AFB, so we had to stop by and get our picture taken. Ironically, they named the gate after me before I was even in the military. They really have their stuff together ;0).

Birch Bay: The 24 Hour Race

2009-02-23T20:05:00.000-08:00

Everyone’s life is speckled with some craziness. Good or bad, they are the stories we talk about and define who we are. My last 24 hours made for one of those stories … obviously. It was a full 24, but I’ll try to keep it concise, which is very unlikely.

Being on Active Duty, I sometimes have the pleasure/opportunity to provide extra service for my country. It comes in the form of someone telling me we’re doing an exercise and I get to work my days off. These exercises aren’t the kind that athletes do and working extra days does not mean extra pay. My shifts are 13 hours, add in travel, life and real exercise, my sleep number is pretty low (I’m not talking about a Sleep Number Bed by Select Comfort).

My plan for the weekend was to compete in the Birch Bay Marathon to test my early season fitness. It’s an important test for my first big goal of 2009 (run the Lincoln Marathon under 6:00 pace). With this military exercise, I couldn’t make Birch Bay since it’s a 370 mile one-way drive to the farthest NW corner of the state (Blane, WA). That was until I got a one-word call, “ENDEX!” That means end exercise! Hallelujah! I’m one tired hombre and needed some sleep.

This is where things get interesting. When opportunity comes knocking, I always answer. Birch Bay was an option and I had part of Saturday to prepare. I’m hardcore like that. I was in business mode. I got online, to check race information, travel distance and come up with a game plan. As far as running goes, I’m in my best run shape ever for this time of year … perhaps any time of year. So I set an aggressive plan to run this marathon in under 2:40:00. Even .01 seconds under was good enough. I program the Garmin, look over previous year’s journal information and I’m good to go.

Unlike my running, my biking is about as bad as it’s ever been. It took me 4 tries to ride over 20 MPH. Granted it’s cold and I used my road bike with cold weather gear, but for me it’s very bad. It would be like Roger not being able to ride 25 MPH. I’m exaggerating on that last one with the shout out to a local uber biker. Because my biking is so bad, I’m really trying to work hard on it. After 21 tries, I broke 21 MPH, so it’s progress, even if it is very little and frankly very depressing (not joking about that). After this marathon, I planned to ride the 25K course, which is held in conjunction with the marathon.

After everything was packed, I hit the sack (a king size adjustable Tempurpedic Deluxe in an altitude tent with filtered and purified air). I’d never spare any money on a bed, especially since I have a sleeping disorder (not referring to my job). A couple days ago I cranked the altitude to over 2 miles. My lungs and throat didn’t totally love it. Anyway, my sleep ended up being a brief 75 minute period. At least I took a 2.25 hour nap earlier after the ENDEX.
It's too small a map to see, but Blane is at the top of the map (in Washington), just slightly to the left of the "W" in Washington typed on the map. I was running about 1 mile from Canada and a few feet from the water. That's about as close as NW Washington as you can get without swimming.

I hit the road at 1:00 AM. That’s when I’m normally working or working out. Cruising at 75 MPH (yes I was speeding a little bit) and listening to some great country tunes, I was happy to be on my way. Three hours later, my car runs out of gas about 100 miles early. I’m not sure what happened there, but I’m only about 4 miles from North Bend. Now I’m really glad I brought the bike, which I ride down I-90 around 4 AM with no lights, but it’s better than walking. Ironically, every station is closed. I was hoping to borrow a gas can and take a gallon back to my car. Instead, I’m digging through the trash for a 32 oz. cup. It’s a lot less humiliating digging in trash when nobody is watching. I find a cup, use my card to buy gas and head back trying to ride with one hand and hold a cup with the other while avoiding rumble strips, which feel like they could rattle a race bike to pieces. I had to be creative, but I got the gas in the car, which gets 45 MPG unlike the cars these days that boast 37 MPH highway (what a bunch of crap that our auto industry is going backward).

After buying gas that goes directly into the tank, I’m on my way. At Issaquah the interstate is blocked, so I take a back road. It’s a good thing I was ahead of schedule, because driving 370 miles to miss a race would be annoying. As I headed north on I-5, my enthusiasm began to wane. It was getting to be around my bed time and my right hamstring hates long road trips and locks up to show me how much it cares about my hopes and dreams. With all the time to think, the 25K is starting to seem a lot more appealing. It’s 10.7 miles shorter, so I’ll be done sooner despite starting 30 minutes later, I won’t hurt as badly afterward, will allow me to work on my speed over distance more and did I mention it’s 10.7 miles shorter. I’ve trained hard this year, but as I drove, I had plenty of time to reflect on how I probably don’t have a good enough base, especially during this tough week and being sleep deprived after a long road trip

Marathon start with the sand and water in the background at Birch Bay State Park.

Long story short, I ran the 25K instead. After registering, I went back to my car to nap, waking only to snap a couple photos of the marathon start. My 25K goal was 5:48/mile. My PR is 1:34:06 on a very tough Newman Lake course. I started out running with a nice guy who’s mean coach told him to run 5:30 pace. There was no chance of me doing that, so I sent him on his way. After taking water at mile 2.5, I got a side ache (no more water for me). I was slightly ahead of pace until a big hill in the sixth mile. I knew I’d get it back on the downhill. Best of all, side aches are far less painful when climbing, so I cranked the effort. At the top, I caught the leader (way off his 5:30 goal), so we had a race on our hands. He pulled away again, but I was feeling great. On the other hand my quads felt like they were cramping. It ended up being muscle soreness. Other than the quads, I felt strong, so I ran harder to compensate for the power loss. The next five miles averaged 5:43.4, but my legs got so sore that it felt like mile 25 in a marathon. I fought all the way to the line, knowing I’d pay for it as I slowed to 6:10, 6:20 and 6:33 pace for the final 2.62 miles. My time was 1:32:20, but the course was 15.62 miles, not 15.535. My actual pace was 5:54, so I beat my time and pace PR by large margins. I’m really happy about, especially considering how things went awry. I was second to a 1:30:08, which is about where I’d be without the quad problem. I think I made the right choice in backing out of the marathon. It’s hard for me to be smarter than I am tough.

Following the run, I warmed up in my car, then headed out for a ride. I thought it would be good for recovery on my legs that felt like they did after my first marathon (I’ve done about 2 dozen now). It was tough, but I barely averaged over 15 MPH. Afterwards I chatted with the race director (Joel Pearson) and his dad (Jim Pearson). Birch Bay put my run run streak at 1,881 days; however, some have done far more. Joel and Jim are perfect examples. Joel, in his early 20s, has run every single day, over a mile each day, for over 15 years. This isn’t like the people who work out every single day, save a rare exception every couple weeks or so. I’m talking 15 years without a single exception. If you think that’s a lot, his dad’s a legend. He’s 3rd on the all-time list and about to reach 40 years of running every single day. That makes 5 years, 1 month and 23 days seem like a drop in the bucket. We fellow streakers took our picture together, representing around 60 years of streaking among three people.

Joel, Jim and me at the finish line after I was walking again.

Following the race, I drove to my aunt/uncle’s house in Bellingham. They wanted to feed me, but I was feeling too ill from the sleep deprivation and travel. The 25K PR/bike ride may have contributed as well. Instead I took a shower and an hour nap (in that order). Again I wasn’t interested in eating, so we visited for a while before I hit the road. My return trip included a trip to Foot Zone (a Wenatchee Marathon sponsor). I had a coupon for free shoes, which I was able to use just before closing. Chelsea (5:02 1600m runner) and Aiden (9:10 3200m runner) were absolutely awesome. Don’t try to steal shoes there, ‘cause that girl will run you down. The owner is very lucky. My coupon was expired, but that happens when a runner from eastern Washington drives to central Washington and wins a coupon for a store in Western Washington. I can’t just drop by and pick up my prize on my way to work. I got my free pair of shoes and was on my way, but not without a stop at McDonalds. I haven’t eaten out for a couple months and was finally getting my appetite back.

Aunt Geri (Red Cross Boss) and Uncle Don (Bellingham Fire Chief).

I was getting a bit tired on my way home, so I planned to stop for gas and take a nap. Unfortunately, the largest snow flakes I’ve ever seen were quickly turning the road into a mess. I got my fuel and tried to outrace the storm. It woke me up (competition does that). After getting to Vantage, the weather had cleared and I was sufficiently amped (no relation to the energy drink, which I do like). The rest of the drive home was then a race to beat the 24 hour mark from when I left. I made it with 36 minutes to spare. Rather than making it a full 24 hours, I left everything in the car and went to bed. The end.

Running from the law ... and the secret of ice water!

2009-01-29T20:09:00.000-08:00

I’m going somewhere with this, so be patient. My job is normally pretty uneventful. As a part of the working end of the law, one would expect that I have some crazy stories of catching criminals. My recent situation was quite the opposite. A military installation doesn’t often encounter gang violence, drug houses, robbery, prostitution, etc. Not only is access to the base restricted, but gangs (for example) wouldn’t exactly be successful at battling the US Military (tanks, laser missiles, special forces, etc). So despite my attempts, finding crime leaves me coming up empty handed, which leads to more looking. I don’t get picky, but I do look.

Just one of a great many deterrents to crime on an Air Force base. I keep asking when I get to patrol the mean streets of Fairchild with an M1 Abrams. Still no answer. And yes, I know tanks aren't exactly an Air Force item.

As a triathlete that works a shift basically opposite the rest of the local world, I do things at a different time of day. It’s not uncommon for me to train in the middle of the night. My practical nature compels me to worry little about bright clothing, lights, etc. I’ll wear whatever I feel will keep me warm enough. My watch for safety is basically keeping my eyes and ears alert (no IPOD) to everything happening around me. Sure, a car may not see me, but I’m going to avoid running into the light until it’s my time to go to Heaven (I hope). Automobiles are pretty easy to avoid, especially at night. I also keep an eye on cars, bikes, muggers, etc., coming from behind, beside, etc. Long story short, I’ll run in the darkest of hours wearing all black if it's what I have on.
This is usually me, but not this time.

The other night, I had some black sweats, gloves and a black hooded sweat shirt on when I went for a tempo run at 2:03 AM. I often include the paces I train at. Some athletes are way faster and some are way slower, so it’s not a point of pride. It’s information to help paint your eyes when I tell the stories. On this particular run, I was shooting for 5:40 per mile. With the extra clothes and the cold, it’s probably too fast to get what I needed out of it, but I’m pretty sure my lack of precision training won’t cost me a spot at the 2012 Olympics. So here I am running through the night, watching for deer (which I often see and talk to), skunks (which I don’t talk to), porcupines (which I fear running into … literally), dogs, Jason Voorhees (Friday the 13th), etc. Running through the silent night (not the Christmas song) at a little under 11 MPH is a cool experience for me. It turned out to be a new one. Jason could come out of nowhere, so I keep my eyes peeled. He lives at the lake too, but I'm betting I could outrun him ... or die trying (ha ha ha).

Apparently hooded guys dressed in all black running that fast with a mask covering his face in the middle of the night look suspicious to police. Medical Lake police are notorious for being overzealous, so when it looks like they’ve actually got something, they really get into it. At one moment I’m cruising down the road on the last stretch of my run, the next moment I see the familiar blue and red strobes lighting up the night. If I had a different job, I might have been pretty nervous. I might have made a break for it. Fast triathletes could easily escape a police cruiser limited to streets. Rather than trying to escape, I laughed at the thought that I’d be pulled over for speeding. Not breaking the speed limit, but running too fast for some guy who would “really” be out for a night run of 3.42 miles. My mask was a camoflage recon wrap, but I don't have any pics of criminals with a recon wrap. I'll do better next time.

A moment later, I find myself being challenged (face away, hands up, spread fingers, spread feet, lean forward, etc.). I’m pretty good at this since I train as both the good guy and bad guy at work. If it weren’t for the irony of it all, I’d be pretty annoyed that my GPS kept ticking and ruining my pace per mile. Of course, I wasn’t carrying any ID, but I didn’t have any weapons or lute either. It's a good thing I didn't stop for a random burglary on that run. I explained myself to an unbelieving individual. It was obvious that I was running far to quick for the distance I was claiming to run. I wish! I had to have been fleeing the scene of a crime at that speed. After some discussion, I was free to go. Of course, 5 to 10 degree weather, after I had been sweating from the effort, chilled me to the bone while just standing there. I didn’t feel like running hard anymore. I didn’t feel like running at all. Instead, I forced myself to jog home to loosen up and get out of the cold more quickly. Sometimes these things happen. I’m not sure if I blame them, but it sure was funny. The coolest watches ever made! They don't know it yet, but Garmin is going to sponsor me.

On a different note, I’ve been getting asked a lot about training. Out at Fairchild and here in the civilian world, people seem to be digging way too deep for what they really need. There are so many very complex aspects to training that volumes have been written. In terms of learning, I encourage people to dig in if they’re really interested. On the other hand, I find that far too much emphasis is placed on these great many details by people who would be better off without. If you’re a psycho athlete like me or a world class athlete who, unlike me, actually needs more than simple training, then be OCD. For the rest of the world, my advice is KEEP IT SIMPLE! Are you really to the point where you have to exhaust the resources to improve your training?

At a fitness training class at Fairchild, we were asked why cold water is better. Nobody answered, so they asked me. I got into fluid assimilation (not what they were looking for). Next I got into biochemistry/body temps/performance, which wasn’t right either. The answer: you’ll burn more calories. Really?! We’re talking about people who struggle to run 1.5 miles in a range of 12 to 20 minutes and they’re talking about burning more calories from cold water! How about skipping out on just one piece of junk food and come out way ahead of someone who drinks ice water. These extremes are about like spending thousands to shave three pounds from a bike. Over a flat 40K you’ll allegedly save 3 seconds. My bet is that rather than all those hours working to make that money to spend on shaving 3 pounds from a bike, training would be exponentially more effective. Oddly enough, aside from getting stronger and faster, you’d probably lose three pounds. Always consider the return on your investment, time or otherwise.
Yes, it really is that easy. Where's my "That was easy!" button.

If you don’t plan on being an Olympian, then keep the law of diminishing returns in mind. A regular and progressive training program is going to be far more effective than spending your time worrying about the intricate details. Swimming is, to some degree, an exception to that rule. Don’t sit around and talk about it, get out there and do it or go a little longer. Nutrition can be a lot more simple too. You could hire a dietician if you wanted, but most people really don’t need that. Cut out some junk and replace it with something better. People who learn how to eat like an Olympian don’t eat like an Olympian. It’s like fitness equipment or a gym membership that you don’t use. Simple changes are more permanent and therefore, more effective. People have asked to hire me for a coach, but I limit myself to one or two people. My help isn’t needed anyway. People need motivation, not a secret answer. Some need a person to tell them to get out there and what to do, but why pay for experts when your momma could do that? For most, a cookie-cutter routine would work just fine. We have so many strong athletes around here that any real training question could be easily answered with a phone call, face-to-face, an e-mail, etc. Some would argue, but the best thing for my training has been my running streak. I've run every day for 5 years and 29 days. Some days have been hell and others were actually detrimental. On the other hand, in the long run, for more than five years, I haven't excused myself one time. Far more good has come of it than harm. For most, this kind of consistency could take them much further than all the information in the world. Do you have a training program so complete that ice cold water is all that's left?

I won’t be the first to say it, but there aren’t any magic bullets out there. World class experts have varying opinions in making world class athletes, yet so often I hear age groupers debating about complex training methods. Ironically, you rarely see them anywhere near the front of a race, despite all their knowledge (not exactly proving that they’re the tip of the spear). It's amusing to hear these people lecturing much faster athletes about the error of their ways. Even poor training is better than talking about it. While thunder is busy talking, lightening does the work. If you asked me, and some of you have, you’d find my answers are almost always the same: train consistently(don’t excuse yourself from workouts), eat a little better, try to have fun, have someone to keep you accountable and ask for advice when you need it. If you do that, you’re going to be significantly more fit than the person who worries about calories from ice water (or whatever analogy you choose regarding people who fixate on details well beyond their practical need).

ARE YOU UBER?

2009-01-17T17:17:00.000-08:00

That was the title of an e-mail on November 12th, 2008. If not for my friend Sonny, I might have thought the e-mail was inappropriate spam. I first heard the word when he was talking about the uber bikers from Germany: Thomas “Hell on Wheels” Hellriegel and Jurgen Zack. Hellriegel biked a 4:14:45 for 112. That’s miles, not kilometers! Zack broke the bike record two years later with a 4:14:16! We’re talking 26.429 MPH. That record still stands; moreover, I’d like to point out that it was done on a Softride. I can appreciate a good debate on the world’s fastest bike, but don’t ask me why I ride a slow bike or when I’m going to get a real bike. Anyway, I digress.

The fastest biker in Ironman history. Suspension, aerodynamics and comfort = speed!

I knew uber meant super and the e-mail was from CGI_racing, so I opened it and began to read. “The fastest triathlon tri in the world is coming…. Are you “Uber”?” I’m really into fast. The e-mail goes on “The word “Sprint Triathlon” has always been an oxymoron in the sport … until now. This triathlon will define what it means to “truly red line.” If the Kentucky Derby is the fastest two-minutes in sports … UBERMAN is certainly the fastest 15-minutes in triathlon.”

My Ubermanda and Uberbike after USAT Sprint Nationals. Second overall twice with a strong bike split.

Fifteen minutes! Hallelujah! Someone made a race for me! I’m trying to figure out how to sign up before I get to the end of the e-mail. I read on … “Witness 10 Elite Men and 10 Elite Women competing for the coveted UBER CUP, flying by you every two minutes at warp speed.” What? Just 10 elite men! My hopes of racing began to fade. At least they didn’t say pro.

Not quite sure what the 10 men part means, so I start reading as fast as I can, while getting my credit card ready, in case they take the first ten to enter. It goes on … “The 20 athletes will not only include a pro field but several of the top amateur Elite triathletes. Watch them compete against the pros, watch them battle each other for their chance to be the 2009 UBERMAN and UBERWOMAN!”
The race: a 200m swim, 4-mile bike and 1-mile run. They ask “Will we see swim splits of 1:00 per hundred? Bike splits over 30mph? 35mph? Even 40??? Can someone approach a 4-minute mile?” They say there will be generous cash prizes and that the race is free, but invitation only. Whenever there’s prize money, a virtual who’s who will show up. I didn’t care about the prize purse. I probably wouldn’t win that anyway. I just wanted to do this race. Some people are into the 70.3 and 140.6, but not me. I’m into 5.125. Several things make a race competitive: Prestige, titles, competition, field size, invitation only, venue, etc. However, nothing brings talent like money. Athletes would fly across the country to try to win enough money to break even. This race was offering a generous prize purse (not yet disclosed), is invitation only, has a very limited field size, will profile each athlete and the race in Triathlete magazine, and its held in conjunction with the most prestigious race in New Jersey, which attracts an international field.

I'll be doing my best to represent. Aim High, but fly low!

There are times in life where we throw caution to the wind and go after things way bigger than we are. I did that in applying for this race. An independent review board would evaluate the applications and select ten men and women. I knew they wouldn’t pick me, but I wasn’t going to make that decision for them. I can accept someone else telling me that better qualified athletes will fill the race. With nothing risked, nothing is gained, so I sent in my application because it’s something I really wanted to do. Knowing that was the last I’d hear about it, I was pleased that I gave myself the opportunity.
I continue training as the week-long freezing fog finally lifts from the west plains. Tree branches broke from the weight of the ice, taking out power lines. A couple nearly crushed me on a run through the woods! Wind sweeps over small branches, covering the other side with frost several times the width of the branch it covers!

On January 8th, I got another e-mail from CGI_Racing with the title “UBERMAN – You’re Invited!” My jaw dropped and I simply said “Wow.” There are moments in life when the last thing I expect happens, regardless of how much I hoped it would. This was one of those moments. My amazement was quickly replaced with ambivalence. I didn’t know whether I should be excited or afraid. I looked over all the information again and again. This was an awesome opportunity to be chosen out of hundreds of pre-qualified athletes, but I may have bitten off more than I can chew. I don’t know who I’ll race yet, but they’ll look over the entry list (when it comes out) and say “well, with this Bergquist guy racing, I don’t have to worry about being last.” I predict I’ll go top 10.

A closer look shows just how much ice nature can pile onto even the smallest twigs. I estimate the ice to be 6 times the width of the twig and an more than 6 times the weight.

With a TT format and 2:00 sendoffs, there won't be any drafting. There won’t be any battling for position in the swim. There won’t be a couple hundred meters to settle in and find my pace. The race is almost over just as soon as it starts. This is all out racing from the word go. Normally a little time is needed on the bike to adjust before I find the right effort, but not in this race. The effort is so hard that a dismount without collapsing will be a huge deal. There’s no easing up to get ready for the run either, despite needing it more than ever before. Training paces make the first mile respectable on cruise control, then I start racing. In this one, I’ll be hurting more than ever before. A hard mile would be easier, although ironic, after a longer swim and bike. There’s no such luxury in this one. It’s just one mile and it can’t just be fast. It has to be super fast. I’m talking uber here! Going sub five minutes probably won’t do much more than keeping me from getting embarrassed. Lucky for me, I do have an ace up my sleeve. I’m talking transitions. They’re the fourth leg of triathlon and more important in this race than any other. If I could be considered really good at anything, it would be transitions. In the races where it really matters, I’m definitely uber in transition. We’ll see if that’s the case when I’m pushing so hard that I might set a world record for hyperventilation.

Unleash the beast! My favorite super hero, immature or not. The Hulk towel is the official marker for my transition area. Are you incredible?

Although I know I’m not likely to be The Uberman, I am going to believe in myself enough to be at my best when I cross paths with the start line. That’s all I can ask of myself, so it has to be enough. I’m a sprint specialist and pain is my friend, but I’m expecting something far more awful than that. Perhaps I’ll bring it like the Incredible Hulk! On July 26, 2009 in New Jersey, it will take less than 20 minutes to answer the question asked in an e-mail on November 12th. ARE YOU UBER?

Moments ... Happy New Year 2009

2009-01-06T11:02:00.000-08:00

Do you ever look back to see how far you’ve come? Do you keep that mental benchmark? You can do it as an athlete or any other thing. Looking back I have some crazy stories to tell. I’ve experienced pains only an athlete would know. My limits were tested. Sacrifices were made. There were moments of triumph. I’ve raced around the world. I’ve learned things I otherwise never would have. I bought a house and yard that were so awful that only an athlete could love it enough to make it a home. Being an athlete was my only path to Amanda too. This is who I am, not something I do. Looking back, I can see how far my work has taken me. The following includes some of my favorite moments.

Crater Lake 2000. I had one goal: finish the race without walking. Starts at 7100' and goes over 8000' and below 5700' elevation, so it's tough. In the lead at mile 24 near the top of a steep rocky trail, my big lead shrunk to 20 seconds. I gave it my all, but the hours of hiking the previous day took what I'd need to win the 25th anniversary run. I faded to finish 2nd by a couple minutes and just missing going under 3 hours with a 3:00:05. I didn't walk and don't regret enjoying such an amazing place. This is the clearest lake in the world and the 5th deepest.

When I was five, I ran my first race. It was just three kids, but I was hooked for life. Years later, I broke all six school physical fitness records. In fifth grade, despite being a sprinter, I raced the mile so I could leave a track meet early. My first mile was 5:50, but got to 5:09.45 by the year’s end. I also played soccer. I'm pretty sure I wasn't any good at it and don't know if my team ever won a game.

Remember Sesame Street? Which one doesn't belong? On the left is Darin Shearer, a two-time sub 4:00 miler, Olympic Trials steeple chase competitor, Harvard grad and pro triathlete who ran down Zymetsev for a win and outsplit Lessing. Next up is Tommy Brown, pro triathlete and Naval Academy grad with swim times most would dream of. In the middle is Tim O'Donnell, Pro Triathlete, Olympic Residence athlete, Olympic Trials triathlete just missing the alternate spot, Naval Academy grad, six-time Armed Forces Triathlon Championships winner and record holder. Next is Dr. James Bales. Despite working 120 hour weeks as an orthopedic surgeon for the Air Force, he still has time to eat on a treadmill, ride his bike to work and swim at his rare appearance at a race. His swimming background leading him to the Olympic Trials give his plenty of ability to draw from. Oh, and he was also a pro triathlete and trials competitor in 2004. Then there's me. I guess we ran out of talent. I've got zero times as a pro triathlete or trials competitor or legendary speed, but I look fit, so they let me in the pic. This is the Military World Games team (Military Olympics for 13 sports) for Mumbai, India in 2007. Darin was deployed to Iraq and couldn't make it. In what will probably be my biggest race ever, I flatted for the first time in a race and got an official DNF. I ran my bike in and did the run anyway. It was an honor to be there as one of five US athletes and I would be ashamed to give up.

In junior high, I wanted to play football. Standing 4’7” and tipping the scales at 75 lbs, the coach wouldn’t even let me practice. I learned that I didn’t like having others control my destiny. A knee injury made distance running too painful, so I tried basketball next. I couldn’t dribble or shoot, but I was awesome at stealing the ball and missing a fast break layup. It was always amusing to see video of some lightning fast kid with a 37 inch vertical shut down any player, but be a nightmare on offense. I eventually figured it out. I also got some well deserved revenge in football.

Sometimes work keeps me from training, races and travel. I really wanted to race the Coeur d'Alene Triathlon in 2008. All the talent was there and I was on a hot streak. Instead, I was standing guard around $1 billion in aircraft for the Air Show. Here I am guarding the $339 million raptor. That was pretty awesome, but on that morning I'd rather be standing on the beach in my wet suit preparing to do battle with Seeley, Darling, Thompson, Smith, Hadley, Jensen, Greenfield, Piccici, Byers and others. I made it in time to see the swim finish and the rest of the rain soaked race.

After a four year absence from track (7th through 10th grade), I started my comeback in 11th grade with a 59.1 for 400m. It dropped to 53.8 that year, 50.9 the next and 49.2 my first quarter at EWU. I learned the hard way that a person can push the body too hard. I don’t know what happened, but I came to five hours later face down in the infield. That fun time resulted in bronchitis, strep throat, the flu and an ear infection. Three weeks in bed, two weeks back, two weeks with the same symptoms again and I not only missed indoor season, but was unfit for outdoor season.

Sometimes I get out of the water after a really hard swim and struggle to slowly make my way to T1 without falling over. At Apple Capital, I came out of the water like an angry crocodile! I wasn't angry, but I felt that strong and fast. All the tough days make ones like this so much sweeter.

I found triathlon my freshman year at EWU since I was unfit for track. It was so great that I gave up on my goal of a 46 second 400m. I nearly drown in my first 500m TT swim. My first triathlon was at EWU in 1992. Still mixing track and sprint triathlon, I decided to try an ultra marathon in 1993. Not a smart move. I lead for three miles and thought I’d win. At thirteen, the parade started going by. I was in last by mile 28 and was last by over an hour at mile 38.3 in 9:04:14 (14:12.58 per mile!) My support crew didn’t show, I had a sun burn from hell (with blisters too), several places were rubbed raw and bled out, and it felt like every bone in my feet were shattered. Simply finishing is still is my all-time greatest athletic achievement.

Armed Forces Triathlon Championships is the only USAT sanctioned triathlon that's draft legal for pro and amateurs who compete head to head in one category: military. My participation on this team has made triathlon so much sweeter every year. In this pic, I'm dropping back after my pull and discuss a little strategy with Big Mike McCoy right as we're catching another Air Force athlete. Mike went on to win a gold medal in Estonia's Military World Championships while I managed to finish in the top three US (scoring) for the first time. In fact, it's the first time I wasn't the last American. Mike competed in the Master's division.

In 1997, I was told I’d never walk normally again. That was the end of my identity since I was no longer an athlete. I wasn’t 4’7” any more and certainly wasn’t going to let a doctor decide my future. It took a much greater commitment, but the doctors were wrong and ran my first marathon that year. I said I’d never run another one. EVER! Twenty-three marathons later, it’s clear I was a little bit wrong.

My fear of water and desire to help others crossed paths on June 3rd, 2006. Inbetween my legs at the Gap to Gap relay, I managed to jump into the freezing (low 50s actually) river and pull out a drowning kayaker. I got lucky and didn't drown, despite barely being able to get air as I was frequently pulled under. We both made it out and my team went on to win that day. I was selected as the military division winner of the Red Cross Hometown Hero. It was an honor, but I'd rather never have to do that again. On the other hand, I probably wouldn't pause for a moment if I were faced with that same situation. Life is too valuable to be affraid to help others.

In 1998 I won my first triathlon. In 1999 I survived Ironman with a nearly unbelievable tale of things gone wrong. In 2003, I discovered the Armed Forces Triathlon Championships (AFTC). I qualified for the Military World Championships (MCW) in Holland. It was so great that I tried to become a swimmer, which is how I met Amanda (lifeguard). Six AFTC races later and four MWCs has me feeling very lucky and blessed. In 2005, I found the National Guard Marathon Team to be a good fit for me, the guy who would never do another marathon. I finished second at USAT Sprint Nationals after losing the lead when sent off course. I came in second the following year too, but misfortune didn’t beat me this time. An athlete did.

Every year on my birthday, probably since I've known Amanda (I sure do miss her), I've tried to prove myself better than the year before. A new year's resolution, quite literally put to the test. This one was with four people, including Amanda. Evan won the run in 18:29.00 for 3.42M. David was second and I was last. On the other hand, I easily beat my PR and was thrilled to have accomplished my goal. So far I haven't failed. Wish me luck in 2009.

In 2006, I shattered my right collar bone and broke some ribs in a bloody solo crash. Months passed, the bone wasn’t healing, my arm wasn’t working and I thought it was over for me. The tune-up race for my final race as an amateur left me doubting myself. Five months later, I could lift five pounds above my head. It still hurts and goes numb from thoracic outlet syndrome, but I’m back to racing. 2008 was my best year ever.

Wonder's of Nature! We had a bit of a wind storm and Amanda told me to look at the lake. The wind was blowing snow, which balled up and rolled into big snow balls. It's one of the oddest things I've ever seen. Some snow balls got to be larger than basket balls, perhaps as big as the smaller beach ball, but the beach wasn't a hot destination today. This pic was taken just east of Medical Lake.

Over the years, some crazy things have happened. I’ve heard a cougar scream from just off the road on a midnight run miles from home and any help for that matter. I’ve been chased by dogs, a crazy psycho cat, an ostrich and a bull. I’ve nearly run into skunks and porcupines in the dark. I’ve gotten hopelessly lost running in the woods while camping (found a car on some back country road to take me the 15 miles back to camp). I’ve nearly frozen to death when a crazy winter storm struck in the fall (temps dropped from warm to freezing with snow and nearly tropical storm force winds) on a fall ride in fields west of Ritzville. Dozens of seagulls have swarmed me during a few swims. I’ve nearly overcome my terrible fear of water (sharks, currents, whales, giant jelly fish, etc.) after swimming a mile straight out into the ocean on a training swim with one other guy. I’ve been chased by people wanting to beat some random person. I’ve eluded a gang beating or possible murder with some luck and good foot speed. I’ve had runs where I felt unbreakable and some when I it hurt to be awake. I’ve run in temperatures from sub zero to 116 degrees. I swam in the clearest lake in the world. I’ve been to 43 states and eight countries. I’ve met some great people, won some awesome awards and learned a lot about myself from endurance sports. I’ve had monumental defeats, triumphs and battles (several by .3 seconds or less).

Ice cycles aren't good for much, but Amanda managed to use them for decorations. She broke them off and stuck them in the snow along our railing. It's the only time I ever recall wishing we had more or bigger ice hanging from the roof.

I treasure all the things I’ve experienced, good and bad. They’ve helped me realize not just who I am, but what I am too. 2009 will be one to remember too. I'm shooting for a sub 6:00 pace in the Lincoln Marathon, a top three finish at AFTC and what may turn out to be a stupid move in getting my pro card so I can be destroyed every time I race. Things may not go the way I plan them to, but there’s always something memorable to take with me from my experiences. This year, I’m off to an early start with training and motivation. Tons of snow has derailed my riding and especially my swimming. On the other hand, I discovered Yaktrax. They’re like four wheel drive with chains on. After my first experience in them at halftime during the Rose Bowl at my parent’s house, I ran inside to tell them how awesome they were (like an excited kid at Christmas). As I began my proclamation the moment I opened the back door, my first foot hit the linoleum floor and I came crashing to the ground and nearly broke my back hanging out the door. I guess they don’t work everywhere. I hope you have a Happy New Year that brings you some great new memories.

Before and After. Most of our yard work was complete by fall (more to be done in the spring). In the before pic we have Sub Alpine trees and a Japanese Maple lining our four tier water fall and stream to the pond at the bottom between the deck, dock and fire pit. Now we're burried under six feet of snow so far this year. It's warmed up to freezing a couple times and the snow has settled, but it's nearly burrying the maple and now has all the yard lights completely burried (in this pic the top of one is showing). The burried lights make the snow around it glow at night. It looks cool, but I'm looking forward to spring when I can swim with the fast lane and enjoy the view from the yard instead of the house. That's why we had it landscaped. With a little luck, the several inches of rain today won't force my roof to collapse. I'm allergic to that.

Club XC Nationals

2008-12-14T21:53:00.000-08:00

On December 13th, I woke to my alarm at 8:30 AM. This wasn’t going to be a good day and I knew it before I went to bed. Normally I work through the night, so I was grateful to have slept, but turned the alarm off and went back to sleep. Eventually I couldn’t put off my impending doom any longer. I rolled out of bed and dressed in some sweats to step out and check the weather. When I opened the door, a frosty blanket of cold air wrapped itself around me before I could jump back and shut the door. The thirty-five MPH winds pelted my face with snow and ice crystals. At least I wouldn’t have to worry about dehydration today.

Normally I'll do whatever I can for an advantage, but no hat or running pants just wan't worth it. Some didn't even use long sleeves! I feel underdressed. Today I raced for Emde Sports, so about all I could sport for the military was a desert camouflage combat wrap (known as a buff to most of you).

My usual race day ritual is to shave my head and do some strategizing. I needed my hair for the cold and knew there was no reason to strategize. I was in way over my head and I knew it. At 1:30 PM I’d be racing in Cross Country Club Nationals. I’m not an XC runner. Heck, I’m not exactly a road racer either. I’m a well rounded triathlete. Being well rounded means I’m not quite what you’d consider spectacular at any one of the disciplines, unless you consider my transitions. We wouldn’t be doing a triathlon and I’m pretty sure you’d have a fight on your hands if you tried to push me outside in this weather after a swim. XC Club Nationals isn’t just a national championship. It’s a team championship. Every really fast guy would bring several of his really fast friends. With around 325 athletes signed up, I was expecting one of my lowest finish places in over a decade. The percentage of people likely to finish ahead of me today was going to be an embarrassing new high number for me.

Hanson-Brooks is next to us with a few straglers between. We actually had a great spot on the far left of the start corral. We needed spikes for packed snow and ice. Evan got spiked out there, but the blood froze to his leg before it made a big mess. Blood makes for a better story. Thanks Evan.

My usual mindset of denial, which usually happens somewhere between the start and finish, was replaced with a feeling of complete failure well before the race started. How could I train so hard, for so many years, and find myself in a race where I’d finish so far back that I’d have a hard time looking in a mirror and seeing an athlete? It’s times like these that I find out what I’m really made of. It’s hard to take away something that I’ve done for 32 of my 36 years to see what’s beneath.

You can see a large pack cresting the hill with a few straglers already dropped. I'm just barely able to keep myself from being one of them.

I found out XC Club Nationals was held here in Spokane when I was asked to run on a team. I was going to be the slowest guy on the team. In a race like this, I’m OK with that role. For some reason, Sims, Pileggi and I were bumped from the team. I was relieved to be avoiding an embarrassing defeat, but the runners that replaced us didn’t make sense. Moreover, I’m basically obligated to announce my participation in these races to my chain of command. In order to explain why I’m not racing, I have to know the reason myself. Repeated phone calls and e-mails to the team captain were not returned. Although I knew we were in over our head, I agreed to race with the other two on another team in hopes of extracting a little competition justice. More importantly, I had already given them my word when I agreed to race on a team with them. There are times when all a person has is his word, so I make it something people know they can count on.

This is the lead pack, which I'm still in. We're more than a mile in and I'm at the back of the quarter-mile long pack. Forest Braden took third, so he's probably right in the mix here. Bresson is in the middle of the straight just behind the bend. Hadway is probably somewhere around Bresson.

Despite knowing I was about to be destroyed, I don’t see myself having a loser mentality. If you’ve read my stories, you’ll know I’m realistic, but also try to push myself until I break. I prepared for this race in the same way that I do all my others. Although I was about to be annihilated, it would happen as I did the very best I could do. Perhaps that was the most frustrating part.

Here I am after a mile making a serious move as I've already passed about five runners. I'm sure my move was announced over the PA and the leaders were really worried.

When I arrived at the race venue, I attempted a warm-up. Ever run on uneven ice-covered terrain in winds blowing stinging snow and ice crystals into your eyes and any exposed skin at speeds almost fast enough to push you to the ground that was already primed for having your feet slip out from under you? Yep, that was so much fun I almost bought a hot chocolate and watched the race from my toasty car. Like always, it’s one lie after another as I soon found myself at the start line and ready to go. My team was lined up next to Hanson-Brooks, an Olympic Development Team, with at least one Olympian competing. That’s a real morale booster right there. Thanks USATF for demoralizing me even more before the race started.

Here we are about to run along the edge of the Spokane River ... I think. I never saw it as I was too busy trying to fight my way through the wind without falling on my caboose.This is Brian Sell of Hanson-Brooks. He runs his marathon right around 5:00 pace. That's 26.22 miles at 5:00 for every mile on average. Even though he's on fire, I bet he's cold too and having trouble running this course quickly.

Speaking of demoralizing, when the race did start, we headed through a large chute for well over a quarter mile. Before the bottleneck, we ascended a small hill. Just before cresting that hill, I looked to the left and could see that I was ahead of about six or seven people. The good news is that the bottle neck didn’t affect me. I didn’t exactly have to battle for position. My legs felt slow today, which was clearly the case as I watched Sims and Pileggi pull quickly away. Normally I can hang with them or keep it close. Not that it would have mattered much, but it would have been nice to not run like a turtle. The mile markers were off, but I was using GPS. Despite running poorly, I went off a little too fast for me today. Somehow I was able to dig deep enough to hold that pace, making me so tired it grew increasingly tough to keep my feet under me (more due to rubber legs than uneven icy terrain).

I'm just about to ascend the little hill to the right of the guy in the picture. Notice how his number is blown under his arm pit. Yep, thirty-five MPH winds will do that to 'ya, especially when you're running around 10 MPH into that wind for an apparent wind of 45 MPH! We're really not having a lot of fun.

Holding my pace despite the rolling terrain, wind and ice, I was able to start picking people off around a mile in and continued to the end. We wound back and forth so often that I would have had no idea what direction I was heading if it weren’t for the wind that often left me struggling to keep moving forward. After 37:27 I found my way to the finish line at 6.30 miles. Sims had 6.29 miles and we both had similar numbers from yesterday’s preview of the course. My average pace was 5:56.72 for the distance, but the web site didn’t account for the extra distance, which slowed my official average to 6:01.4. I came in at 265th of 314 finishers! That puts me in the bottom 16%. Hey, a new PW (personal worst). It wouldn’t have been much better even if several athletes didn’t quit. Even a good run would have been over 200th place today. Only a last place finish in a 1993 ultra marathon when I was a sprinter at EWU was a lower percentage. FYI, sprinters aren’t well suited for an ultra marathon. I should have known that without trying it, but it took just thirteen miles to find that out and many more miles to help me remember it FOREVER! The only time I placed worse than today during this decade was in the Chicago Marathon with a 2:41:55, which only netted me 303rd place. That race was one of the world’s big five marathons with an international elite field and tens of thousands racing. That was actually a respectable performance.

I'm fourth from last in this pic. I have no idea what lap we're in, but my guess is the second lap. I was able to gut it out and pass everyone in this pic. We're talking small victories during a major defeat.

I was third on my XC team, but was a long way back on the other team’s captain who replaced the three of us. On the other hand, the team I was on had a faster combined time than his team. Looks like I’m back to square one in talking about small victories. Although it was somewhat humiliating to be beaten so badly, I ran so hard that I nearly passed out well before the finish line. Only the dread of lying in the snow forced me to fight off collapsing at the finish line and for several minutes after. Just a few of my gutsiest performances rival the effort I put in today, which belies today’s poor performance. The primary reason I pushed so hard is that I cannot let my team down. They count on me and cannot do it for me, so I give them my very best because that’s what teams deserve. Several times in the past I’ve given up my spot on a team that would have broken a record with me competing instead of the faster guy I gave my spot to. It’s ironic, but sometimes nothing is the best thing you can do. I hate to say it, but Sims and Pileggi shouldn’t have been bumped from a team of runners faster than they are. They beat me by around 1.5 minutes and I finished well ahead of the runners they were replaced with. No matter how the pieces fell today, I knew I was going to be taking a beating for someone else. I just wish I could have done more.

I'm embarrassed, pissed off at myself, frozen, exhausted and ready to get this over with. If I could have run faster, then I would have been done sooner. I'm already thinking about the training I'll be doing to avoid this kind of whoopin' in the future. Sometimes you have to go through hell in order to get to heaven.

So I went to bed last night, knowing that I’d end up feeling like a failure and I was exactly right. I know that years of training for one thing won’t make me good at another, but feelings don’t always make sense. The good thing is that my experience revealed character. I think it will also lend to building more of it. We all see ourselves differently as a result of the things we experience. What I find important is how I respond to these things. In a race where even my best performance would have left me feeling completely outclassed, I raced terribly to make me feel even worse. I didn’t go home, have a really good cry and quit sports forever so I could take up fun things like: having a life, sleeping, not being tired all the time and having my HR under 160 BPM during dinner. Instead I found motivation and commitment sprouting in the fertile soils of defeat. Bad days happen, but how I respond is what really matters. As long as I’m trying to be a serious competitor, I will never leave another race feeling like I did today. Being outrun by over a minute per mile! Two-hundred and sixty-fifth place! There’s no excuse for that. Mark my words, because I promise you I’ll never get beat like that again.

Finally done! Too bad it took this race to make me realize that I've allowed myself to be satisfied with my results. Satisfaction is a word of laziness. This kind of reminds me of the 1985 Steve Camp song called "Shake Me to Wake Me" off his Doing My Best CD. It's a Christian song about living in mediocrity. He said "shake me to wake me." Today's experience reminded me of a song I haven't heard for a couple decades, but the message applies to how I approach all I do, including my races.

Sudden Death run and other things

2008-12-09T04:42:00.001-08:00

Comparing this year’s late October through early December to the same time last year, it’s clear what a difference a year can make. Looking over my journal from last year, we had plenty of snow on the ground and the temp dipped into the teens. Two of every three runs was on a treadmill. This year only one of six runs is on a treadmill. Last year I was suffering from a variety of serious health problems likely tied to my visit to Mumbai, which was safe for Americans at the time. People would cheer and chant “USA” whenever we came around. (On a side note, I was actually in the hotel which we often see in the news with flames and smoke bellowing out of the windows). This year, most of the symptoms are either gone or a lot more tolerable. Last year was literally a day-to-day struggle due to the weather and my illness. This year I have a clear path and am pounding the pavement, literally and metaphorically.

While shopping, I decided to take the opportunity to pose for a photo with some handy Walmart props. Gotta love the Incredible Hulk!

Tough times overcome with perseverance make for good stories. However, I sure feel a lot better when things are going my way. I’ve set two more PRs since my birthday on solo runs. I’m settling into a new schedule, so I haven’t had a chance to set up training with David (kicked my rear on my birthday) Jacob. With 57 days of leave, which I’ll only burn on a day of work, will make training a lot more productive and actually allow me the rare opportunity to put in some serious miles. Honestly, I have no idea how I performed the way I did on about 40% of the volume of most of the top local talent.

Booth hill behind Lakeland Village has some spectacular views, including this one of Mt. Spokane in the distance. It's also an extremely tough run with a mile-long hill with a rolling climb sporting grades over 20% in two or three spots.

The biggest shocker this year came in the announcement that I was named Athlete of the Year for the Air Force. With over 700,000 individuals among the AF, Air Guard and Reserves, they pick just one male and one female. The selection was made among athletes competing in any of the 22 All Air Force Sports teams, along with sports not contested at the Air Force level. Among those considered for the award were four Air Force Olympians who competed in the 2008 Beijing Olympic Games. Three of them did not compete in an All Air Force Sport. In my opinion, an Olympian in any sport trumps anything I’ve ever done. I should also mention that I think it’s more impressive to compete in some sports over another, but that’s another story. I have no idea how I was selected. Although I’m very proud, I also feel undeserving. Olympians, and even Olympic Trials athletes, are far greater athletes than I probably ever will be. Perhaps it’s about more than level of achievement. One thing I did do was get out there and represent in a variety of sports several times per month. It’s important to me to show that the Air Force is a part of local communities and fit for service.

I've never gotten an award quite like this. It's a mirrored base with a plate with a photo copy of me in my uniform and a paragraph giving some key details on my performance for the year.

While in San Antonio, I felt famous. My picture must have been passed out and posted everywhere. Nearly everyone at the hotel and banquet, including staff, recognized me, knew my name and congratulated me. After the awards banquet, I went for an evening run. I left the hotel and headed east. It seemed like a pretty shady part of town. Eventually I headed up a hill and past a dark and ominous cemetery. I’m not superstitious, but I felt more and more uneasy as I ran further from the motel. Fenced in businesses were guarded by two or three dogs each. They really wanted a piece of me, so I looked diligently for open gates or holes for the four-legged demons to escape their pen. Eventually I found a grocery store and bought a drink and candy bar (love sugar). On the way back, I was chased by a dog that managed to escape. I believe I’m a lot smarter than dogs, so I ran across the road dodging traffic in hopes the dog would choose to stop chasing or be forced to stop chasing after being nailed by a car. Don’t get me wrong. I like animals and really don’t want them to get hurt, even the mean ones. On the other hand, I don’t want me to get hurt either.

There have been a combined 47 male and female athletes of the year since the award's inception in 1982. Each year and athlete is given a lettermans jacket with a giant Air Force logo on the back and his/her name embroidered on the front as pictured here. I've never had a letterman jacket before, so this is pretty cool.

Shortly after escaping the dog, I noticed a car drive slowly past that I thought I saw going past me before. About a half mile later I saw it stop in the distance, then drive past me and around a fenced area of some sort. As I watched it park, I realized that I had been distracted enough to not notice a person walking up the road and directly in my path. It was dark and he was wearing black, so I moved to the right a little bit. He moved over into my path again. I was wearing black shorts and a white shirt, along with being pretty light skinned, so I figured he saw me and did it on purpose. I moved to the left into my original path just in case it was coincidence. Again, he moved right into my path! In the same way I’m not superstitious, I’m not afraid of people on the street. I make eye contact, exchange a greeting, and display confidence in myself and others. On the other hand, doing the right things doesn’t eliminate a confrontation.

Some sunsets are absolutely spectacular. This is a photo Amanda took from our yard on the day I returned from San Antonio.

After seeing this individual clearly obstructing my path for the third time, I had two options: fight or flight. Fleeing down some side street in an unfamiliar area could lead to a dead end … literally (both ways). I could try to juke this guy like I did the ostrich, which would be more successful since my top speed is probably more effective against another person than it is against an ostrich. On the other hand, I felt the need to stand up for myself. Long story short, after he moved in front of me again, I said “fine, have it your way” as I leaned forward, accelerated and prepared to drop the shoulder. At the last moment, he moved out of my way, which is where things really got interesting for me. That car that I mentioned earlier had apparently dropped this person off to stop me. As I went past him, I heard a couple yells and looked back to see the driver and passenger running to flank me on the other side of the fence as the person I just ran past gave chase also. With the hotel about a half mile ahead of me and my pursuers behind me, I decided that I wasn’t even going to chance toying with them by trying to stay just out of reach. This is where fight turned into flight. Ironically, just as this happened, I heard the GPS beep my mile split. The athlete in me was curious to know just how fast I could run if my life depended on it. I knew I had a half mile, but the three people chasing me only had as long as it took to catch me. Their only chance was a quick burst of speed, so rather than running like I had a half mile to go, I ran like I was doing the 300m. In route to the hotel, I took some chances running red lights as I blasted through intersections, just missing cars, more by luck than skill. When I got to the hotel, I was alone and safe.

Amanda and me at my guard Christmas party. This is a bit embarrassing.

The bell hop, or whatever you call him, asked me where I ran and I told him. Before I could tell him what had just happened, he actually almost yelled as he said “NEVER DO THAT AGAIN! Do you know what they call that area? It’s called SUDDEN DEATH. Every three days a person is killed there. Sometimes they do it in hopes of getting money. Sometimes it’s gang initiation. A white guy like you clearly isn’t from there, so you’re even more of a target. It’s a crack neighborhood and you never know what will happen to you if you go there. Some people are lucky and are merely beaten unrecognizable.” Well, that’s a sobering thought. I guess all the dogs protecting buildings, the streets without any lights and the shady characters standing around painted the picture that made me feel so uneasy for a reason. That was my last night there, so I didn’t go run there again. Oh, just so I don’t forget, that last segment of my run, which was a negative elevation split, was 2:13.1 for .55 miles! We're talking 4:02 pace!

Now I’m safe and sound back home in Medical Lake. My training is picking back up and my plan is taking more shape. I should have a small quality group of training partners to help me get in better racing shape than last year. More people would be better, but I’m just not part of the in crowd. Later this week I’ll be racing in club XC nationals where world class runners on down will provide a butt kicking reminder of how far I am from the top. I already know the numbers, but the visual will probably uncover a little more motivation that’s hidden somewhere inside me. It’s that part of me that doesn’t like to have someone beat me so badly that I feel like a joke in comparison. I need that though. I have big plans for next year’s races and a few individuals on my list that I need to track down.

Birthday Challenge

2008-11-21T03:15:00.000-08:00

Today, November 20th, 2008, I turned 36. I like numbers, so if you don’t, then skip to the next paragraph. Thirty-six years equates to 432 months. That’s 1,878 weeks and 3 days. I’ve made it through 9 leap years. Fitness has been a big part of who I am for nearly as long as I’ve been alive. Training or racing has taken me to most of the 41 states and 9 countries I’ve visited. Things haven’t always been easy, but I feel blessed for the challenges and opportunities.

That's my sis. She got me a gift card to Olive Garden. Looks like I'll be getting some delicious Chicken Scampi for free next time.

Every year on my birthday, I make it an opportunity to prove myself better than I was the year before. All too often I hear people say they can’t do now the things they were able to do when they were younger. They explain to me that I’ll understand when I get to be their age. Well, many of those times, I am their age. I know there will come a year that I just can’t trump the things I was able to do before. I don’t know when that day will come, but Father Time is going to have his work cut out when it comes to keeping me from my goal. Even after that happens, I’ll fight back and do the best I can. I find great motivation in athletes like Jeff Corkill and June Machala. For me, a new year’s resolution is set one birthday and tested the next.

This year’s test was to run the Eastern State Hospital loop around Medical Lake faster than I ever have. The time to beat was 19:38.0 (5:44.44/mile) for a somewhat challenging 3.42 miles. I chose that instead of the Medical Lake loop because I honestly wasn’t sure I was in good enough shape to beat the best of my PRs. If I failed, then I’d have to find another challenge to complete before the end of the day that trumps a past personal best. As you can imagine, after a failed run PR, I’d have to choose a different sport since my legs would be fried. That happened last year and I really wanted to get it done on my first try so I could relax and enjoy the day.

Pastor Steve (step dad), Mom (aka Linda), Carlene and MyAmanda. We like Christmas, but Amanda really likes Christmas. Eventually we may have Christmas all year long.

With many triathletes in the area, it seemed best to put out an open invitation to anyone who would be willing to come run the course with me. I was going to be hurting and the chances of quitting are lesser when others are there to witness it. Having some strong competition was important too, so I personally invited a few fast guys. I was hoping I wouldn’t be the sad little kid you see in the movies that has a birthday party that nobody came to because they found a better party with the popular kid in school.

Thursday morning came and I eagerly checked for phone, blog, forum or e-mail messages, but came up empty. It looked like I would be doing this alone until I got a call from Evan Sims. He was on his way out. One guy a little faster than I am was all the challenge I needed and lifted my spirits. Evan was getting a tour of the new landscaping when another guy named David showed up. I’ve seen him running around the lake and saw him at the grocery store last night, so I asked him too. He didn’t seem all that fast or interested in running with me, but I was hoping someone would show up so I didn’t have to feel like a total social pariah. Other than Amanda, my other two training partners couldn’t make it. One was getting a colonoscopy and the other was at his brother’s birthday party, so it would just be four of us.

I changed the start time to 1PM to allow Josh to make it after a class, which actually was great in terms of weather. That turned out the warmest time of day at 49 degrees with the calmest winds as well. Five minutes after we finished, the weather turned bad. The temperature plunged 12 degrees and the wind kicked up another 15 MPH in about 15 minutes! We gave Amanda a 7 minute head start for a rabbit to chase. I asked David if he wanted to start with us or get a head start since he knew the course. I also didn’t think he could keep up with Evan or me, but kept that opinion to myself. He said he’d just try to run with us.

Seven minutes after Amanda left, we were running. I had done two warm-ups and some accelerations, made sure my diet was under control and my body felt good, but not great. After about a tenth of a mile, I backed off as the GPS calculations finally caught up to our pace. We were running about 5:10 pace. All I needed was 5:40, so getting stupid and greedy could make me fail and literally ruin my day. Evan and David gradually pulled ahead. I thought David would fade, but he looked under control. I was ticking off 1:22 quarters into the wind, so I felt tremendous relief that it wasn’t a bad day.

We exited the trail and headed directly in the wind on the road. Evan jokingly moved behind David as if he was going to draft, but moved right back out. It wasn’t stated, but it was apparent that all three of us wanted to earn our time without aid. I wasn’t able to draft even if I wanted to. That quarter was 1:27. As we started the hill, I really had to dig in to maintain my pace, but slowed to a 1:31. This isn’t just another race. I’m not going to say “perhaps I’ll have better luck next year.” Trying hard isn’t good enough. I needed to succeed at this or find something else and keep going until I succeed. This was the defining moment for me. Still ascending the roughly 1-mile hill, I improved with quarters of 1:24, 1:26 and 1:24 to get me to the top of the hill.

The podium following the race. Evan stands atop of the podium as the annual Birthday Challenge winner. David took second and I was third. We're displaying our respective finish place.

My average was 5:39 at 2.25 miles and I had a half mile of descending next. Although it was too steep to run down quickly enough to make up for the climb, I knew I’d get some time back. With a 2:31 half mile, my average pace was down to 5:32 with just .67 miles to go. Evan and David were battling it out ahead of me as Amanda was finally in view. I was closing slightly, but they put too much time on me in the first 1.5 miles. It was looking like I had a lock on breaking my PR, so I didn’t mind that I was coming in last. That final .67 miles was tough with a small hill and indirectly into the wind, but I averaged 5:27 in that span. My final time was 18:53.64 (5:31.47/mile). On a cold and windy birthday, I succeeded in proving myself fitter than I was the year before. I ran just shy of 13 seconds/mile faster than my previous PR. It also looks like I could have beat my PR around Medical Lake too. It was a better PR, but on an easier course. Now they're both very tough for me to beat.

The official (self-kept official times are the best) winning time and new course record by Evanator Sims.

Evan passed David with a quarter to go, but David kicked hard and retook the lead just as they caught Amanda (I never caught her). Evan kicked it into another gear, took the lead again and managed to hold onto victory. He ran an 18:29.00 (5:24.27/mile). David ran under 18:30 too. Who would have thought that some random guy at a grocery store in Medical Lake would be fast enough to outrun me by 24 seconds! I thought I was alone out here and now it looks like I have another training partner. We took a podium photo at the fire pit (without the non-Olympic flame burning), then had pizza, bread sticks, and home-made caramel pop corn.

My sis gave me a hero ribbon with the Autobot symbol on it. She wanted to reward me for my Air Force award.

Overall, the birthday was very memorable. I met a major goal. Friends and family came to celebrate (after the painful part). We had lots of food and deserts, including cheese cake (my favorite desert). I was given some new training gear and found a new training partner. I was also notified that I’m going to be flown to Texas in December to receive an Air Force award/title that was completely unexpected. Along with it came a military decoration I’ve been gunning for (not literally) since basic training. Best of all, I got to spend the entire day with Amanda … except the 7 minute lead in our run that I was never able to get back.

This is the Air Force Recognition Ribbon. If you're not familiar with military decorations, this is what they look like in shape. The air force has dozens of different ribbons, which are worn on a ribbon rack in rows of three or four. They're much better than the ribbons or medals you get at a road race or triathlon.

On a different note, I find that I’m grateful we all get to make our own choices in life. We’re all different in big and little ways. Today demonstrated quite an eye-opening contrast in people. I find myself wondering why a stranger would come support me in something really important to me when so many people I know did not. A race rival that I’ve robbed of victory four times when it was in his grasp drove 30 to 45 minutes one-way because he knew he could help me. He could have stayed home to make me pay for his losses, but he was extremely generous instead. I’ve generously given money, time and information to those who’ve asked for it. It’s curious that those people, along with so many others I know, are nowhere to be seen on the rare occasion I’ve asked for help.

With two of the people I count on the most being unable to be here today, I’m aware that things come up. On the other hand, it’s apparent that few people go out of their way to help others who aren’t in their close social circle. Just when I feel like giving up hope, God sends a little reminder of how great it is to have someone give and expect nothing in return. Thanks David and Evan. It went a long way to making today a great one and reminding me of the type of person I want to be. I have obligations that don’t leave me with much time to do things, but you’ll find that when it really matters I’ve got your back.

Columbia River Classic and Birthday Challenge Invite

2008-11-17T15:11:00.000-08:00

Sometimes motivation runs out quickly. Sometimes it’s not my fault, but I should try to fight it more. I had a good plan in ending the racing season a little early, shortening the usually long break, then starting up with a serious plan when it’s normally pretty weak early on. The problems came when my schedule started to change. As of today, I’ll be on my fifth different schedule in less than three weeks, which covers literally every hour of the day.

The Columbia River Classic was a good test of fitness. I ran its 10.08 miles in 57:17. This year I wanted to run it under 57. I had good competition in Tom Pileggi and Evan Sims, so I wouldn’t be running alone off the front. In fact, a few other fast guys showed up, including Jacob Puzey. His brother whooped me this year in the Aquaman, which is a run dominant event.

The weather was perfect for a fast run, so I decided to set the Garmin for 5:40 and run at or slightly below it until mile 7. My only concern was having pretty tight legs following the Turkey Trot. They were tight when I woke, but they loosened up a bit. I just hoped they wouldn’t come back to haunt me later in the race. With the fast guys pushing the pace Evan took off with them, excluding Jacob who was just too fast. With all the battles against Evan, I figured he’d run with me, but he’s too much of a racer to hang back early on. My plan was to make him pay for it. After a couple miles, he started coming back. Tom and another guy were holding their own further ahead.

At mile 3, my calves started to seize up on me, but it wasn’t too bad. I was catching up with the faster starters, working my way from 8th to 5th. In mile four and five, I closed the gap significantly, but my calves got so tight that I wasn’t sure if I’d be able to make it back if I kept pushing it. The turn around was at mile 6.7 due to a loop at the start of the run, so after mile five, I wasn’t on my way back. Un fortunately, I had to ease up or I’d end up having a long recovery period leading into the Birthday Challenge, which is more important to me. It seems odd to me that I run two miles in 12:30 and I’m effectively completely out of contention in a race just over 10 miles.

After the easy miles, I cranked it back up. My legs felt a little better and I was on my way back to the finish. I was trying to work my way back to 5th place, but I wasn’t the only one bringing it home strong. It took a couple miles, but I finally caught 5th. Despite being able to get by him, I was content to give my legs a break. In the end, I managed to finish in 58:23. It’s not a bad time, so I’m pleased considering how things went. Evan finally ended his streak of losses with a 25 second margin on me. After mile 7, I was well over a minute down, so it could have been worse. Congratulations on a great race Evan.

On Thursday, 20 November, around high noon, I’ll be attempting my Birthday Challenge. If anyone wants to come and run with me, then be here in Medical Lake with your game face on at that time. Everyone is welcome, but I sure could use some competition to help me earn it. The course will either be the Medical Lake loop (2.92M) or the Eastern State Hospital loop (3.42M). If I fail, then I’ll have some other self-torture in the works for the rest of the day. Either way, it should be fun.

Beware of the Ostrich ... this ain't no Bull!

2008-11-05T12:00:00.001-08:00

Running is always a bit of an adventure. Everyone who has spent a good amount of time running has stories to tell. Having been a runner my entire life, I have plenty to tell. Some stories really stand out and this is one of them.

In the past I’ve had trouble being diligent with my training. It’s the pain that accompanies hard training that I try to avoid. So I’ve procrastinated and found myself being satisfied with a weak training program. Good results reinforced my laziness. My best year ever has left me wondering what kind of potential I have. I don’t have many prime years left, so I’ve committed myself to 2009.

With my commitment, I find myself doing the usual scheming, but have really been training. I’m not talking about just getting out there and jogging around the lake every day. I’m working hard!

Part of any program is a long run. It’s the most important run of the week. A long run for me is typically six miles. I should be ashamed of that, but on occasion I’ll get out and run as much as twelve, but that happens maybe a month or two apart.

I’m actually on a scheduled training plan, which had me running 17 miles the other day. Racing triathlon gives me a good aerobic base, so I can actually handle a marathon. I started this run at my parent’s house, not too far from here. It was a cool morning with calm winds and clear skies, which made the run pretty enjoyable. I plodded along at a comfortable pace, concerning myself only with finishing. After all, this was only about building my base.

The miles gradually wore on me since I’m in the beginning of my base building after a year-end break. More than I’d like to admit, I was starting to suffer a bit. My legs were getting tired, my feet didn’t totally love the nearly two-hours of pounding and my energy was getting a bit low. So my spirits were lifted as I neared the turn onto my parent’s road. After the turn it would be just 1.12 miles before I was done.

As I rounded the corner, my eyes were drawn, locked in really, to something standing in my path. I’m not an expert, so I wasn’t sure if it was an Ostrich or an Emu. I learned about them at a drive-through safari in Texas. An Ostrich is bigger and has just two toes vs. three. I’m not sure if it was surprise or fear, but I forgot to check the feet. These birds can be mean and can run 30 MPH. I can be mean too, but I can’t run 30 MPH … not even downhill. I have trouble biking 30 MPH, so at mile 16, I was pretty sure I was at a disadvantage.

Being tired and wanting little more than to be done, I found myself with two options: go the other way or try to get around the bird. The “other way” was 6.5 miles, so I chose to try to get around the bird. It was tall, had a big beak, dark eyes and was staring right at me. I used to be a football player and sprinter, but managed to keep the attitude. I was pretty sure I could get around the bird. If not, I was going to kick it’s … well, you know.

I moved right and it mirrored me. I moved left and it did too. He wasn’t going to let me pass. I don’t know if it was a he, but it’s my story and I’ll call it a he if I want to. Thinking quickly, I plan to juke to one side, then dart to the other and get past this hostile defender as I kick in the afterburners and run past at full speed. The plan worked as I quickly found myself sprinting down the right side of the road. As it turns out, the bird must be a competitor too. He turned around and ran along side me, looking comfortable as he stared me down.

I had nothing more, which was apparently disappointing to him. He must have wanted more of a race than I could provide. After about 50m, which seemed like forever, he veered sharply toward me to make me pay for being weak competition. As it turns out, I wasn’t as brave as I thought and decided that I’d rather try to run away than kick his … well, you know. The competitor in me wanted to see what this monster could do, so I jumped the barb wire fence to the field to my right. As you can imagine, there wasn’t much vertical leap left in my legs after 16 miles and a short sprint. I brought my knees up to my chest as my rear end raked a barb, which cut through my shorts and skin.

In my weakened state, I had to contort my body in such a way that I could make it over the fence, but didn’t leave me primed for a graceful landing. This is where things get really good. On the first roll, I see something. I stop myself shortly after and I’m just a few feet away from a Bull. I know less about Bulls than Emus and Ostriches. All I can tell you is that it had lighter hair and horns. One thing I do know is that I’m more afraid of bulls than any bird, even an Ostrich or Emu.

My mind is racing as fast as I wish my legs could go, quickly devising a plan. I could jump back into the road and fight a giant bird, or try to make it back to the main road. Although I’m in a field with a bull, the corner has a few trees and rocks to run around as I get back to the main road, so I choose that adventure. It was further, but seemed to be the safer route. I don’t remember getting up or looking back, but I was running for my life, darting around trees and jumping rocks.

Finally I find myself flying through the air over the barb wire fence and face plant on the edge of the road. Feet away is a truck that saw me coming and was nice enough to stop instead of running me over. He said he figured he’d have to stop since he was sure I’d jump the fence to get away from the bull that was chasing me. I’m glad it wasn’t all in my mind. He asked me what I was doing and I explained my situation from Ostrich to Bull. I pointed the bird out and he asked me if I wanted a ride home. What I really wanted was to finish my run. He agreed to drive along the road for a quarter mile between me and the Ostrich to get me past the bird, then I’d be safe for the rest of the run.

Long story short, I survived and stuck to my plan. Other than a scraped up rear, I came out relatively unscathed with another great running story that feels absurdly unlikely. My legs recovered in the few days after for the annual Turkey Trot at Fairchild. I really don’t like the one in Spokane. Multiple laps around a park, dodging people, which makes it pure chaos. I’m not opposed to an actual fun run where places aren’t kept and it’s more about fun than racing, but that Turkey Trot simply is just not for me. There’s no set distance there, just people walking, jogging or running. It’s just chaos. Fairchild’s event has each person run 30 minutes on a tread mill. It is literally a time trial. The top three family totals (2 people only) win a turkey. I managed to make it 5.60 miles after having to slow down temporarily from a moment of mental weakness. Amanda and I took first with a total of 9.71 miles. I have the Columbia River Classic 10-miler this weekend in the Tri-Cities. That will be interesting as I’ll be tested by a better distance runner than I in Tom Pileggi. I can still shoot for a good time and an Ostrich-free adventure.

I'm broken, but race anyway ...

2008-10-28T23:25:00.001-07:00

In my effort to make my yard look more like a mountain lake paradise than a yard, I injured myself lugging around big rocks, loads of dirt and trying to roll boulders. It's also pretty apparent from those that know me that I'm EXTREMELY competitive. In a game of basketball after work (required fun/exercise), I made things worse by trying to annihilate the opposing team. This is why I have to avoid these group activities. Now I have a terribly painful groin muscle (aductor longus or something like that ... who cares what it is ... it hurts). My quad and hamstring are being pretty unruly and my knee, feet, back, arms and neck are angry and let me know it. This prompted me to visit the chiropractor where I was tempted to circle the entire body when asked where the problem area was. The plus side is that the yard is to a point that I won't have any heavy lifting to do until spring when we work on the side of the house and under the deck by the lake. Perhaps now I can get back to training hard instead of limping around my run courses in pain.

This is on the third lap as I surged on Evan. I'm trying to look relaxed, but that's hard to do when there's only a little blood in my lactic acid!

Speaking of pain, I think that's Evan Sims in a word. He showed up to Seven Mile, which was just a day after I moved a half dump truck of dirt via wheel barrow. Lucky for me, he was out for blood after finishing a combined total of 10 seconds back in three races over 29.33 miles. He took off so fast that I was completely unable to respond. Fortunately, there were hills, which I run well and he doesn't like. At the top of the hill on the third lap, I managed to eat up the 27 seconds he put on me in the first kilometer. I did my best to try to look relaxed as I surged past him, but was really suffering. I don't know how he did it, but he hung with me all the way to the finish. The gap this time was just 2 seconds. This guy is faster than I am, but unfortunately ends up going too hard in the first part of our races. It just goes to show that a good strategy can go a long way. I work a race from every angle, which is necessary to have any chance at beating someone faster than I am. I was still second on the day and continued my streak of umpteen consecutive losses at BRRC CC races (aka never won one). Chris Morlan was first in 17:14, I was 17:30 and Evan at 17:32.

This was Amanda's pic. I liked it better than the ones I took. I've been creating a daily picture journal of the progress of our yard (about 15 per day). In the process, I've missed out on taking pics for the natural beauty on several occasions. We just had our yard hydro seeded, the neighbors too, so it's almost green like a lawn. The trees are changing colors and the geese are back again. It's nice to have such a great view in the back yard, but have a quiet neighborhood and small city on the other side of the house.

The days following the race have been pretty tough, but I've continued to train and race. We had a race at Fairchild on Friday, which was the first annual Freaky Friday 5K fun run at 7PM. We ran around the survival training school area with glow sticks lining the path, which was really cool. I spent the entire run calling out "I can see you" or "I know you're there." Allegedly people were hiding along the course dressed in costumes to scare the runners, so I wanted to avoid a scare and injuring myself any more. As it turns out, there wasn't anyone hiding out there, so I was just talking my paranoia to the empty darkness. I was really working hard, but only managed an 18:12. Perhaps if my legs worked or I'd rest and recover. It's just a thought. The next morning was the Oktober Fest 5K (was it with a K?) at Mead. I was tempted to go race Josh Hadway, but the 2-hour round-trip drive proved to be more of a deterrent than having trouble walking. Sorry Josh. I would have been worthless competition anyway, but certainly would have tried.

I'm still running outdoors, but haven't ridden in a couple weeks. It's times like this that I need a coach! I still swim and run, but find myself fixating on the Birthday Challenge and losing sight of my overall plan for next year.

Yard Phase 2 Complete & Spokane Half Marathon

2008-10-13T23:04:00.000-07:00

I never put any thought into how it would look at night, but this is spectacular. Four underwater lights for each fall, one for each of the seven trees and seven path lights. It's like Christmas! The goal was to have a yard we could actually use, so having something spectacular to look at night and day feels really great.

Ironically, I put more pressure on myself to achieve my Birthday Challenge PR than I do for nearly all races. That helps get my training up to speed and consistent. It also helps me focus on the goal rather than trying to peak for a training race. The Spokane Half Marathon was a training race, but important for range. All the yard work has left me with a strained lower back and strained inner thigh. With this being a major training element, I couldn’t opt out of it in favor of more recovery time.

This gives a pretty good perspective of the yard, but especially the deck. It's over 10 feet above the water. The clear view railing isn't in yet, but the view is still great. Instead of having a cliff, we have a great deck where an unusable section of yard once was. We've also moved boulders and dirt around for a usable place under the deck. The path on the right is pretty steep and will be an even grade from beginning to end and covered with a red rubber brick. That's the final project I have for next spring to have it ready for the summer.

My goal for the race was simply to get a hard 13.1. That made seeing Evan Sims a relief. He’s a sub 42 in Bloomsday, which I haven’t run for years. Although I’ve edged him out twice this year, by 4 and 3 seconds respectively, he’s made me suffer greatly. My hope was to get more of the same.

The house is well above the water, giving a good birds eye view of the yard. We used to have to be careful to not slip and fall on the steep terrain covered in rocks and weeds that would not die. Now there are cool looking paths along what looks like a mountain stream. That item on the Trex Deck is a 6hp Fastlane. It allegedly can simulate a 57 second 100m pace, which is faster than I can go. We'll hook that up next spring. We're still working on finding the right water heater that will allow us to swim in the bottom pond during the spring and fall and possibly capable of being turned up enough to be like a hot tub.

We started out too fast. Seeing a 5:27 on the GPS, I slowed down right away. I can’t run that fast when 100%, so I won’t try it in heavy training with a couple minor injuries. Two other guys were running with Evan and gradually pulling away until a turn. Lucky for me, they weren’t running the tangents well, which helped me catch back up. After a couple miles, we dropped one guy and I was able to stick to Evan and the other guy. This mystery runner looked very comfortable, but didn’t look like a fast guy. I thought he’d fade, but it didn’t matter. The first few miles, I found myself annoyed at the unusual frequency spectators would cheer “Run Forest” or some variation of that. Some spectators just aren’t enough of a fan to know how to cheer.

I'm not sure if it's just a guy thing, but I'm pretty pleased that the fire pit can crank out flames that get six to seven feet tall at times. That's too much for sitting around the fire, so it's good we can adjust it lower. I've discovered that it's fun to take pictures of fire. It changes so often and unpredictably that some are really cool.

Just after mile three, mystery runner pulled ahead and Evan went with him. It was too rich for my blood, so I let them go, sticking to what I could handle. Later, he appeared to comfortably pull away rather quickly. It was completely unexpected since I didn’t think he’d be able to hang with that pace. Pulling away looked like a bold and unwise move. He continued to pull away from Evan faster than Evan from me. At the marathon/half-marathon split, he was about 1:30 ahead and out of sight and Evan was about :35 ahead. A moment later, the lead motorcycle sped past, followed shortly after by the lead biker. They took place in front of Evan and I knew they led the leader off course. I looked back and saw him coming up behind us. Trying to take advantage of the opportunity, I picked it up with a shot at coming in first, but well before I could eat up Evan’s lead, he went cruising comfortably past. He quickly caught Evan and was soon out of sight.

We have a stone bridge over the water. It's green, orange, brown, grey, etc. It ties together the stone pathways at the top of the stone steps between a boulder corridor. This is just the top of the three-tier stairway, which takes you to the middle of the four falls. It's not visible from here, but to the left, we have a rock wall that extends the side of the yard and levels it out. This Thursday they'll hydro seed, which will make the sprinkler system usable. The trees are on an auto-drip timer.

Heading up Doomsday, the 10th mile, I decided to go conservative to save energy. My plan was to attack at the top with a little over three miles to go. I was losing a little ground, but got it back after Evan nearly broad-sided a van that turned in front of him. He had to slow to a walk and go around the van at the aid station at the top of the hill. I was probably more upset than he was, especially after that same van appeared to be turning out right in front of me. I wouldn’t have been as nice as I get pretty hostile when people put me in danger when nearly running me over.

This is the awesome crew from Alderwood Landscaping. I have to say that I'm very picky because I wanted something very specific for triathlon training. They had never built a water feature made for a Fastlane or designed a yard around triathlon-specific use. Skyler, Kevin, John and Jeff are standing on the stone bridge above the tallest fall, which is 3 feet. The three others are 2'4". At first I thought I was paying a heavy premium for high end landscaping, but in the end I feel like I got a really great deal.

At the top of the hill, I was down 27 seconds and began my attack. A mile later, I was still down 21 seconds. It appeared that he was going to win this battle, but I fought on. At mile 12, I was still down 17 seconds. Either he picked it up or my attack was about as useful as a rubber crutch. Convincing myself that I could run one hard mile, I dropped the hammer and surprised myself by catching him in about a half mile. After he surged a couple times, I settled into his pace rather than risking a melt down. When I was sure the course wouldn’t take an unexpected course-lengthening detour, I surged for the finish. I managed to edged him out by 3 second with a 1:19:03 (6:01.78/mile). It’s not a great time, but the course it tough and I got what I needed from the race. It would have been nice if it wasn’t 27 degrees at the start and not much warmer at the finish. It doesn’t take long in those temperatures for a sweaty person to cool off and nearly freeze.

The yard isn't done in this picture, but it gives a great perspective compared to the original photo I have before they started, which is below on another post. The deck on the house has since been changed to include stairs to the yard, which used to be accessible only from the driveway or basement door.

As it turns out, the winner was named Forest, which explains the Forest cheering. After some chatting after the race and some searching on Yahoo, I discovered that he’s a 13:45 5K runner and has apparently run a sub 29 10K. No wonder he had such an easy time destroying Evan and me. My guess is that he used our 5:45 pace for the first three miles to warm up. Despite losing about 2 minutes by going off course, he still beat us by over 4 minutes at the end. My bet is that he can run a lot faster than he did. The winning time for the marathon was 2:42:30 by Sean Meissner. I didn’t want to lose training time from a marathon, so it was a relief to see that it would have taken a hard effort to win. Josh Hadway won the 5-miler with a 26:34. He was 4 seconds behind Evan at Bloomsday, but if the 5-miler was accurate, he’s faster than both of us right now. I also discovered that Sheena and I have the same birthday.

ANNUAL RECAP, NEXT YEAR'S PLANS and YARD PROJECT

2008-09-26T01:11:00.000-07:00

Along with the post, I’ll add pics of my yard in progress.

Last year I was open water swimming nearly every day. I've done most of my summer swims in open water as well. As a result, I have more time inside the Orca Apex than it could handle. As I prepared to head outside for my last lake swim of the year, Amanda noticed that it was torn. The outer skin tore open, so it was still fine for a swim. You can see right inside the flap here. Now I know what makes it look like a golf ball. Oddly enough, of the many times I've swam to Turtle Island and back, I haven't been able to break 10:00. My best time was 10:12.9, but in my torn wet suit, I managed to go 10:10.3. I've been chasing that time all year.

This is the before picture. Well, that is if you don't count the 30 truck loads of various things we hauled out of the yard. It was like the Jeff Foxworthy joke. "If you cut your grass and find a car ... you might be a red neck." We literally found things after chopping down the weeds that we couldn't even tell were there. We also hauled several truck loads of yard waste to the recycling center. So although this is the before picture, it looks spectacular compared to how it used to look. Until I get my video transferred, this will have to be the "before" picture.

Although my maintenance badge indicates that I work in communications electronics (satellite, wideband and telemetry systems), I’ve been working full time as security police. Although there are some pretty cool perks to the job, spending hours a day either all standing or all sitting, tends to make exercise about as appealing as eating honey right out of an active bee hive (unless you’re a honey badger). So I was one of few to be nominated for athlete of the year. Normally I don’t compile my results, but had to provide race results for the nomination package. As it turns out, I raced 29 times. Actually I raced 31 times, but DNFed two: got sent out onto the marathon course in Las Vegas (doing the half) and pulled up at Birch Bay Marathon (planned on running a marathon this time) after a dog came at me and left me with a minor injury. The year started off slowly, with tough training and tougher competition leaving me in the dust. I finished with results well beyond my expectation. According to the fiscal year numbers, I set 10 course records and finished first 18 times. Without Amanda's help, I would have been much worse off in racing and everything in life for that matter. If I had been keeping track, I probably wouldn’t have been so hard on myself for the few races that went awry. Fitness Fanatics saved me from a couple disasters as well. I finished outside of the top three in just six of 29 races. Two were national championships and one was a world championship where I was beaten so badly that I was almost embarrassed to have been there.
This is what my yard looks like from the same angle. It looks like the yard was just buried in rocks, but it's far from that. We have stone steps up a boulder corridor, which takes you up along a four-tier water fall. It starts by a big heated pond with a big water fall and a fast lane for when the lake gets too cold or isn't warm enough. It will also allow for great video in and out of the water. There's actually a lot more open space than this pic reveals.

I wanted to end the year earlier than usual and take a good three week break. Although I raced once/week, I exercised very little. The early season end will get me started on next year a couple months early. The shorter break (3 weeks instead of 6) with end-of-week races left me fitter than usual. This will also help me out with my birthday challenge. Every year I try to set an all-time best at something significant. This year I hope to break my PR around Medical Lake (15:57.0). Last year I failed at my initial PR attempt, which was also a Medical Lake PR try, but set a new goal and did pull ups all day to set a one-day pull up PR. It gives me something to aim for and makes a birthday more than another year on my age.

The lake was calm on a beautiful morning. More pics to come on that. This angle from the deck shows the stone bridge just after the second fall and before the last two and the pond. It's a cool mix of green, red, grey, blue, etc. To the bottom left is where a propane powered fire pit is being built. It will have stone benches and steps and a paver floor. On the far right, there will be a Trex deck with clear view rails. I can hardly wait to lounge out there. Our yard has been a dirty, rocky, steep and unusable place since we moved in. I don't like enjoying nature from inside the house. I don't want to just look at it. I want to be out in it.

My goals for next year include making a trip to USAT Sprint Nationals, the National Guard Marathon Championships, going top three at Armed Forces Triathlon Championships to earn a spot to Military Worlds where I hope to be destroyed by less than usual, and pick a couple other big races that I’m usually not able to make. If I qualify, then I’ll probably apply for my pro card for a different experience. That will probably require me to do longer races that are not draft legal, but it will be fun to try something new, even if it means being annihilated. Work has made this year extremely difficult, but I’ve managed to save up a lot of leave and am working on a deal to work less and train more. I’m a fanatic, so Amanda and I are in the process of turning our basement and yard into a big-time training center. We have or have access to everything this side of illegal performance enhancers. Nearly everything should be in place by the end of the month. With everything we need right here or starting from here, along with starting the training season in the best shape of my life, it feels like the stars are lining up just right for a really good year to come. Of course, such a major jump in training could make me lose my motivation all together. I might quit the sport completely and get fat since I have no self-control when it comes to eating. My usual training volume is about 50% to 60% of what most athletes of my caliber put in. More isn’t necessarily better, but I’m sure more time would allow me to get much better training. Showing up to a race after sleeping is also very helpful

This was a picture perfect day. Nature is inviting you in. What are you waiting for? On the left, you can see the start area for the Trailblazer Triathlon. It's 355m away, but I stop about 5m from shore for a 700m round-trip swim. Motor boats aren't allowed on the lake, so you can get in, put your head down and swim worry free. Well, that's if you don't worry about the sharks, whirl pools, seagull attacks, etc. I had this ramp custom made to allow us to walk right into the water 40' from shore. It gets us past the rocks and weeds. It also allows you to swim right into the chute and run right out of the water. Soon, you'll be able to take an evenly graded smooth path right up to the new patio where you can grab your bike and head out for a ride, a run or do all three. We have room for several bikes, so we'll be hosting some training races and plenty of training.

The house project should be complete by the 3rd of October. Amanda and I plan on having a yard party with smores and cooking on the giant flame. This is the first public invitation to everyone who’d be interested in celebrating massive debt … I mean a major project completion. If you’re reading this Steve (Anderson), I’m going to need your smore-making expertise on this one. We’d appreciate any other experts in smores, barbecue or other. Bring your racing gear and we can have a fall freezer triathlon too.To the right of center is Turtle Island, a granite quarry just off shore. This is adjacent to the Trailblazer swim start. To the far left, you can see the start of Troika and Kiwanis triathlons at Waterfront Park. Amanda and I are truly lucky to be able to see views like this from our house and yard. The sunsets are as great as the morning skies. Now that we have a camera (thanks Amanda ... I know it's yours), we'll be able to capture more days like this one.We don't just have trees on the other side. To one side we have plenty of smaller trees and natural growth. To the other side, we have the park and a camp-site like yard on the edge of the lake. To the right is Waterfront, which is 1200m from the edge of our property. I love it here and it's starting to feel more and more like home.

Major Project and Grand Columbian

2008-09-17T11:07:00.001-07:00

When Amanda and I bought the house, it was essentially a junk yard and house. Thirty truck loads of things from chemicals to engines to carpet and all sorts of grossness later and this is how our yard looked. It was infested with weeds that we couldn't kill. Digging them up was a major task with the giant boulders in the soil. Given my work and training schedule, the best solution to have a nice yard before the year 2015 was to hire a landscape company (Alderwood). It's a six-figure project that will feature a four-tier water fall, a couple decks, a giant propane fire pit, all sorts of natural rock and vegetation landscaping and an even grade path on one side and stone step pathway on the other. Yes, I'm a triathlete to the core, so we'll have a transition area under the deck (hence the nice pathway). Bike in one way and run out the other. We have a poly dock with a custom made swim-in ramp to get onto the shore without having to navigate rocks, dirt, weeds, etc. Just run right out of the water ... from 30' out.

After a couple days with a couple machines and supplies brought in with just a phone call, this is what the yard looks like. They've had dirt shot in like a snow blower from a fancy gloss-painted dump truck, crews of up to nine people and others behind the scene.

After five days, they've got most of the water feature roughed in and a couple sets of stone steps. They have one more set of steps, then some moving things around and they can set the water feature and pour concrete. The bottom of the water feature will have a 3 to 4' water fall into a 14' x 18' pond that's about 4 to 5' deep. It will have a fast lane installed on the side with stone steps on the side. Yes, it will be heated too, so it will be possible to train right there in the yard when the lake is too cold to swim in. Late May to late September is tolerable. Anything before or after that is really tough to swim in. This should give me about 3 more months of swimming at home each year and be fun for guests (those who don't think swimming across lakes is fun).

Grand Columbian

I'm absolutely fried from such a busy race year. Unlike previous years, I decided to not push the envelope until I felt like I may never want to race again. The Titanium Man was a bad way to finish the year. I don't mind getting beat, but when it happens because of something going awry (mechanical, pointed off course, unusual physical problems, etc.), I find myself pretty disappointed. Amanda was racing the Grand Columbian Iron Distance, so I figured it would be more appropriate to go there instead of Black Diamond for a break-the-laziness activity. The Olympic would start and finish all while the Iron competitors were biking.

Jeff Smith showed up last minute, so it took the pressure off. He's an amazing racer with plenty of swim/bike strength. With his strength in climbing and a really tough bike course, I figured I didn't have to worry about a strategy. I could just get a good workout in. The race started at 10:30. I like late races. We had a good clean start and I was off toward the front. I tried to get on some guys feet, but he made more turbulence than I've ever experienced behind a swimmer. What's faster: drafting in white water or swimming in calm water? I chose the later since there was no real need to suffer. I did fall back, but not too badly. Jeff lead me out of the water by 1:51 and was riding :20 before I got out of the water. I was 4th out, but had the fastest T1, taking :22 out of Jeff's lead.

On the bike, I quickly moved into second place, riding alone with nobody in sight in front or behind. It wasn't until nearing the top that I saw Jeff up the road and around a couple corners. About halfway through the bike, I saw him on a long stretch climbing a hill and was actually able to get a split as he got to a double yellow line. I was actually closing in on him a little bit! I had good speed and cadence and felt pretty strong all the way to T2. He was leaving as I was coming in. The alleged 40K was 1:11:17, which meant I out split him by :27. On a flat course I'd be less surprised, but this was completely unexpected. T2 was quick too, but I was only able to get :04 more out of him.

Starting the run, I was 1:00 down and surprised to actually have a chance of catching him. My slightly conservative approach left me suffering a bit less than usual on a very hot day. We had a run on a gravel road, which sapped speed and energy. Drink stations were 1.5 miles apart and with only an ounce or two in little Dixie cups, hydration would be a major issue. I kept myself under control for the first half to let him sweat it out up front and pushing the pace. At the turn, I caught him and drafted for about a half mile before pushing the pace and finishing 1:07 ahead of him. I guess I got a good workout.

With the team competition requiring at least 3 people and only Amanda and I signed up for Tri-Fusion, I switched to racing for Team Blaze. We ended up getting second in one of the two divisions, so it paid off. Apparently it's not OK with some people that we made the switch to racing for another team. These people stood on the side lines watching Amanda and I race hard and criticize me instead of racing with us, which would have meant we had enough people that we didn't have to switch. Frankly, I'm tired of the silly social games people play. I race for fitness, fun, country and competition. Being part of a club is supposed to be about camaraderie. I'd never ostracise a person because he/she participated in a different club or team. We're all people and there are a lot more important things to get upset about. The stock market is down, people are losing their homes, gas companies are robbing the world of money, soldiers are dying over seas, people are fighting cancer, etc. I race for the Air Force and National Guard. They actually sponsor me, but have never questioned why I don't list them in some races, yet I get called out for listing the wrong team! I'd rather someone say congratulations on a great race. Oddly enough, only one of five people on the team "represented," yet my wife and I are singled out. Some athletes need to find out what's important in life and quite picking stupid fights they can't win. Either that or cowboy up and settle it on the race course. If some actually took the time, they'd realize that I always find to help people in any way I can. Despite my best efforts, some simply don't care for me or won't take the time to get to know me. It's frustrating enough to deal with this myself, but my wife, a much better person than I, should be left out of these things. Helping people, rather than criticizing them, is a much more suitable way to spend your time.

Titanium Man

2008-08-30T21:58:00.000-07:00

It’s been a busy race season and what is essentially my last important race of the year has come and gone. I’ve done this race five times now, placing no worse than 2nd in the previous four attempts. Not only is it a competitive race, it’s the season finale for the 3rrr series. I have been digging myself out of the hole from my first race, an off road duathlon. It’s where I learned that I suck at mountain biking. In this final race, I needed to finish ahead of Brown by ~1:23.

Leading into the race, I did everything right from sleeping to eating to training to recovery. Race morning I woke at 4AM, but unlike the norm, my gear was already packed and good to go. Amanda and I had breakfast en route to make sure we got there as early as possible. We were one of the first on scene at 6:30 for the 9 AM race. I took my time to fuss over all the details and make things perfect.

I did my warm-up and waited on shore for the one-minute warning. Races sometimes start late and I didn’t want to swim against the faster than usual current for an indefinite amount of time. Unfortunately, there wasn’t a one-minute warning and the race started on time. Those way out from shore in the speedy current sped off as I jumped a few rocks and got on my way. They ran out of caps, so race series participants had to bring their own caps. Ryan had the only green cap and was easy to spot. He normally swims my pace, so I figured I’d draft for half the swim and take off. After making my way to him, I saw a swimmer 10m off the front of the pack. It was a great opportunity, so I surged and caught him. Although he was fast, he would virtually stop when sighting. I ran into him a couple times before realizing this and drafted much more effectively after that. He often put in surges, but I kept up. The effort was just about right. A small group I never noticed escaped off the front, so I was 7th out of the water and 3rd individual in a time of 13:05.4. Keep in mind that 1500m swim is in a current. I’m sure 24 people can’t break Grant Hackett’s 14:10.10 short course meters world record.

Coming out of the water, I knew I needed every second. My goal was to make the bike turn with him. I raced T1 in 34.8 seconds, good for 2nd, excluding teams. Ironically it was 2nd to Ryan Brown by 1 second. I brought my A game and he got me in T1 for the first time this year. Leaving with a 38 second lead was about twice what I expected, so I was pretty happy.

I flat out hammered the bike. There were some teams to reel in that kept me pushing early on. After I caught all but one, which I couldn’t see until the turn, I could do little other than figure how much faster Ryan was if he were to pass me at a certain time. Frankly, my lead lasted longer than I expected, but the pass came too early. I stayed with him for about 3 minutes before I just couldn’t hang any more. He hit the turn at 36:55 and I was 35 seconds back after just 12 minutes following. We had a big gap to the 3rd individual, but my race was only with him. The distance wore on me, but I fought as hard as I could without blowing up. I made it back to T2 after 1:02:51 in the saddle. It was the 4th best to one team and two solos. The best split came from Sean Howard, who’s probably the fastest TT biker in the state since Eric Anderson moved and Andrew McDirmid stopped competing. He’s a cyclist, not a triathlete, so he’d lose too much time in the swim. Ryan on the other hand, is probably a bit slower than Adam Jensen and a bit faster than Roger Thompson. He put 3:31 on me earlier this year in 30K. I’m biking a lot better now, so in this 40K, he was only able to outsplit me by 2:42.2. It’s a small victory by nearly slashing his advantage in half.

I couldn’t see him as I approached T2. I had no idea what the gap was. T2 was 31.8, good for 3rd individual of the day to a couple guys who biked in their running shoes and simply ran through T2 (I had to ask). My cumulative time was 1:17:03. I was 3:09 ahead of last year’s pace. A decent run time could put me under 1:53:00. More importantly, I was told my deficit was 1:53. That meant I had to outrun him by 3:08 for the series or just try to catch him. I’ve run that kind of time out of him before, so it was time go hunting.

My goal was to go out in a reasonable 5:40 to 5:45 pace. That would be fast enough. One mile in, my side started to ache. I had closed the gap to 1:25 with a 5:42, so I could afford to ease up and did. My next mile was 5:57 and I was still closing quickly. My side really started to ache in the third mile, which was 5:59. I eased up some more, but the pain kept getting worse. I was still closing and was down just 25 seconds at 5K. My side hurt so badly that I knew I had to surrender the series and simply try to catch this guy. Unfortunately, the pain got so bad that I could barely stand it. After about a half mile, I had to walk. It kept getting worse as I walked. I hoped it would go away quickly so I could try to get back into this. It didn’t get better. Normally I’d call myself all sorts of mean names for walking, but even that required me to endure a lot of pain. It was a bit embarrassing as a team runner that passed stopped to help me. He stopped in a race when he had a team depending on him to hold the great position they gave him! Please don’t ever do that unless I’m lying passed out, delirious or a broken and bloody mess. It took a couple minutes to pull myself back together. I was still in 2nd place and had a good lead on 3rd with just 2.5 miles to go. I started jogging and wow it was a breathtaking pain. I was clinching my teeth and breathing through them with spit and drool coming out for a pretty gruesome image. Sometimes you just have to do whatever works to keep moving. Sometimes, in order to get to heaven you have to go through hell. I wasn’t even trying to get to heaven, well I am, but I was really just aiming for that finish line. Mile 4 was around 9:30, then I dropped into the mid 8s and finally got down to a mid 7 on mile 6. That last .214 was about as long as they get. Despite hitting the turn with an 18:05 5K, I ran back in 26:15! Although I really didn’t care, I managed to come in 2nd overall with 24 seconds to spare. Although I was wreathing in pain, it was nice to not be racing while I was doing it. Instead, I was able to lay there on the hot concrete.

Looking back, I can’t say that I pushed too hard or made a considerable error that caused the side ache. One thing I used to struggle with was side aches. I got them so often for my first five years of racing that my nick name was Side Ache. I’ve been in the hospital over it before and have had one last for an entire month. So far this one is only on 10 hours, but I expect it to go away after a day or two. On the other hand, I may have pushed too far this time. One of the cures for me was to drink less fluids than most. After the race, I realized that I downed about 40 oz. in just over an hour. The body can’t assimilate that much fluid in an hour and I’m much better suited to drink half that. These things happen and all I can do is move on to the next one. I’ll make sure I don’t have that much water with me to risk it That left me in 2nd for the series. It’s the second big series that I’ve done this decade. The first ended with pneumonia, but it cost me a brand new bike as I nearly beat a strong pro racing the series. This time it was just for a title. Honestly, I’m happy it turned out this way. Ryan’s been trying to win his hometown’s marquee race for many years now and he not only deserved the win, but he earned it. I’ve had the best race results of my life this year. I’ll take 2nd in a hard fought race over a blowout win just about any time because I love racing.

It also goes to show that even when I’m at my best ever, there’s no way to beat top competition on a day when I run a 44:20 10K. In important races I run low 34 to high 35. I’d have to be a top world cup racer to fall apart that badly and still beat someone like Ryan. It takes me back to when I first started triathlon at EWU. I had a bad day in my second year and came in second to a guy I normally outsplit in every leg. The run course was inadvertently extended by a mile and I lost it in the last half mile, which was too far to employ my kick. My goal for the following year was to come in first and break the course record. I wanted to be in such great shape that even with an off day I could make it happen. In 1994, I made an attempt on that record of 1:00:53 when it was still an 800m swim. Although I broke that record by :30, I came in 3rd. It was then that I had my first undiluted taste of what fast is in triathlon. Some guy named Roger Thompson beat me by around 4 to 5 minutes. He took 3rd in Sprint Nationals that year. I learned pretty early on about perspective in this sport. Nowadays I get beat up annually by Tim O’Donnell and know that I’m a long way from the top. This year was a lot of fun and a great one to build on if I’m able to keep the fire over the winter and through the next year. There will undoubtedly be some races, but I’m on a cruise control break for a month or two. Thanks to everyone for all the great races and stories.

Side Ache out ...

Apple Capital Triathlon

2008-08-26T00:32:00.001-07:00

Another week and race down and the summer is nearing a close. Racing is wearing thin, but I have to enjoy the weather while I can. Before I get to that, I’d like to express an observation, made obvious by those I work with, but apparent in most when looking for it.

After a serious bee reaction, and I’m not talking about the vitamin, I also had to fight off pneumonia. The bee’s stinger might have been as big as a baseball bat because I felt like I was beat to a bloody pulp with one. I was so ill that people could see it when they first saw me, which made the usual cues of illness unnecessary. Despite all that, some seem to think that if I can run, then I’m clearly not sick. Some resign themselves to bed, which is a good idea, but I have goals I won’t compromise. A real question a US troop can ask is what he/she would do if wounded by the enemy. I can only answer for myself by saying I won’t surrender just because I’m wounded. I will fight until I win or they do. Although every situation I face in life certainly isn’t life or death, I measure myself by it. I’d imagine that like everyone else, I feel pain, illness, etc. Pushing through it makes it harder, but oddly gets little sympathy. That doesn’t make sense to me. How I handle it doesn’t make it any less real. I guess society doesn’t seem to think that “tough” people need sympathy. Although that and some understanding would be nice, I’m not going to curl up into the fetal position and wait for life to get better. OK, I’m done with the venting.

This is not how I like to wake up in the morning! It does the trick though.

My plan for the weekend was to get some good quality in to make up for a couple weeks of taking it easy. I wanted to go hard Friday, race Hell’s Gate Saturday and Apple Capital on Sunday. Friday went as planned. Saturday didn’t because I didn’t want to sacrifice about 8 hours for a 1-hour workout. I needed sleep and would workout hard at home instead. Sunday I forced myself to get up and race because it’s the best training.

After years of racing, I commit as little time as possible to “B” races. Sunday I got up, ate breakfast and did all my organizing and packing that people usually do the day before. After 16 years of racing, it’s a pretty easy task, so I was driving away at 4:46. It was a nice drive, but took almost 2 hours 30 minutes to get there. I had to work at noon, so the Olympic race was out. I figured I could do the sprint, which started 20 minutes earlier, and be driving away before I’d be done biking in the Olympic. I was suspicious of the distances because the previous year’s splits looked slow. I’d find out why soon enough.

The swim was supposed to be 450y. I can do that in about 5:20 to 5:30, but would be fine with a sub 6. I stayed in a group of three to the first buoy, then pulled ahead and broke away. I rounded the 2nd buoy and headed for the shore in a pretty straight line. Despite being first out, my time was 7:56.3! That would be over 1:45 per 100y! I’m guessing it was 600 to 650y. I wasn’t really working the angles as much as I was forcing myself to get my third hard workout in three days, so I fumbled a bit in T1. It wasn’t great, but was enough to get me on the bike with a lead.

I'm not sure if I'm coming or going. I think I'm heading out for a tough ride now that I'm awake.

We started by climbing a hill to the highway and my legs were quick to remind me why it’s not a great race strategy to prep for a race with two hard days leading into a race. My legs felt like rubber pretty quickly, but I kept it under control and recovered. It took until the run, but I did recover. My expectation for the bike was to hit the turn in 15 minutes. I wasn’t pushing 100%, but was working it pretty hard, so a 30:00 20K was reasonable for me on a hilly course. I didn’t get there until 15:54. Yikes! I expected to see a host of riders coming as I started heading back, but I saw open road to the top of a hill I had just descended. It took 2:00 to meet the next rider, which meant I had about a 3:40 lead. That was a nice surprise, so I just focused on my riding and constantly battled the hills that dominated the sprint race before the flats the Olympic race must have enjoyed. A cautious descent into the park gave up a lot of time, but I was 14:59 on the return. My official time was 31:21.1. It’s possible that it was a 20K with the hills, tired legs and cautious finish, but I’m guessing it was a little long.

Finally! Coming around a corner and down a little hill into the finish. Now that I'm awake, I'm tired enough to go back to bed.

My goal for the run was to run sub 5:50 pace. With the hilly run course and not wanting to risk an injury with a week to go before my season finale, I didn’t want to push any faster than that. The run was as tough as I remember it from the race’s first year (2000) when they only had the Olympic race. Still I got it done with a 5:47 pace (17:56.1). It helped me meet my other goal of going under an hour with a 58:27.1. The record was 1:03:14.77, so I was pretty pleased. There was no time to think about any of that though. I had to go straight from the finish to get my gear, pack my car and get on my way to work. I wasn’t aware, but they had a premium for the best bike and run times as well as some overall prizes. They handed some of it to me on the way out. Jessie Sullivan was nice enough to get the rest of my loot for me. A while after I got to work, 34 seconds late, I saw the results. Apparently Sean Williams of Spokane outran me by 6.9 seconds. If you’re out there Sean, let me know. I have $50 with your name on it. I wish I had known about the premiums, because I would have pushed harder, but it was a nice surprise. The race is going to be a good one with Jason Jablonski taking over. He’s a real elite athlete and seems to have things turning in the right direction, so give it a try if you’re able. It will only get better. Perhaps they’ll have more accurate swim and bike distances next year. They certainly had awesome post race food, drink and snack selection.

Sting, Pneumonia, Work and 3-Race week!

2008-08-18T21:44:00.000-07:00

I rarely ever enter a race series. My schedule just doesn’t allow it. However, I really wanted to give the 3 Rivers Road Runners series a try this year. I’m a club member of the Tri-Cities running club, which had a few races that I’ve never done. My resulting battles with Ryan Brown have been my toughest this year. The next to last race was the Aquaman. It’s a 2-mile run, half mile swim and 3-mile run. Although I’m faster on the bike than I ever have been, he can still put plenty of time on me, so it was nice to have a race without a bike leg. I’ve done several training sessions to get ready for the fright of a hard run followed by swimming instead of collapsing and sucking wind.

Things got pretty interesting starting with my sting on Sunday. Just when I was at my best fitness ever, I had to reconsider my approach to the race. That little sting brought about a significant allergic reaction, which weakened my immune system. That left me primed for illness and I managed to catch a wonderful disease called pneumonia. Fortunately, my body is where pneumonia goes to die. Unfortunately, pneumonia doesn’t disappear over night. Also unfortunate is my warrior spirit. If I were born ages ago, I would have been a gladiator. Despite a monster head ache, terrible chills, a mild temperature and bloody mucus covering my lungs, I managed to survive a very easy training week and 41 hours of work.

I had been doing all I could to get myself ready to compete during a time when moving at all feels completely terrible. I was still suffering terrible chest pain from the sting. It felt a bit like my chest was beaten thoroughly with a meat tenderizer from the inside. I didn’t complain and am not doing so now, but details tell the story. Rather than sleeping in, I actually had a Friday morning race at Fairchild. It was the Commander’s Challenge. Each squadron sends five runners and I couldn’t let my team down. Although this particular course had been raced a few times, I have never competed on it, so I brought the GPS. Prior to the race start, some guy and gal were talking up a storm about how he was going to win. They were saying that anything other than first was last and if you’re last, then you’re a loser. Now I don’t mind some good pre-race humor. If it was someone who was clearly out of shape and unable to win, then it would have been fun. I may have misunderstood, but I wasn’t the only one and he looked to be in good shape and seemed serious. It appeared that all who heard it were pretty turned off.

When it comes to racing, I’m fierce, but I respect everyone who comes out. Some people aren’t as fit as others and require a bit of personal bravery to toe the line. They don’t need to start a race thinking the guy who will win thinks they’re losers. He was the loser and I wouldn’t have any more of it. In a raspy voice, broken with coughs, I said “218 (his number). If you simply ran without all the talking and won or came close, then it would be respected. On the other hand, you just hung a giant arrow over your head pointing to a big target on your back. It’s going to be embarrassing to lose after all that talking, especially since it’s going to be to a guy with pneumonia.” I really try to avoid talking to anyone like that, but someone needed to end his show. There were some “oooohs and aaaahhs” and some quiet cheers for shutting him down. Long story short, I hung behind him and another runner to mark their moves for .75 miles, then picked it up to 5:24 pace and pulled well ahead. Although it wasn’t a good one, it was still a course record. Seeing 218 come in 3rd was better than winning.

Following the race, I went home and took a 3-hour nap before final preparations for the 6PM Aquaman. Knowing I couldn’t rely on my fitness as much, I had to exploit every advantage I could find. I brought my fastest racing flats, shaved my arms, legs, face and even my head with a razor! It was hot, so I was very well hydrated and got there early to warm up and be fully ready. When we finally got under way, the pace was brisk. I have to admit that I was a bit distressed to be struggling to hang on. Ryan was in front of me, which was a bad sign. It was 102 degrees and my mouth was almost completely dry in under 2 minutes. It got so bad that I wiped my forehead to lick my hand for moisture. We hit the turn (with a water station) shortly after I had gapped all but one runner. It was some guy from BYU. I tried to stay with him, but he was way too fast and ran the 2.08M about 30 seconds faster than I did. I hoped to average between 5:30 and 5:40, but came in at 5:18. I can run faster than that, but pacing is really important for overall time and I was certain to pay.

Transition went poorly as I couldn’t get my shoes off very well. When I was finally ready to swim, I zipped to the water with Ryan still out running. Some guy jumped in front of me and blocked me from swimming because I didn’t have a swim cap on. It’s pretty tough to explain the bee sting to pneumonia from a weakened immune system and possible hypersensitivity to things like latex on a freshly shaved head while sucking wind and trying to escape Ryan and catch another guy. Without that kind of conversation time, I simply said I was allergic to latex, but he persisted in blocking me after a couple more passive attempts to get past. Ryan’s an awesome sport and would probably petition to give me some time back if it came down to him passing while I argued, but I didn’t want it to come to that, so I was done discussing it and was taking that guy swimming with me if he didn’t get out of my way. I drove him toward the water and he moved aside.

That swim was brutal. I did my best, but just couldn’t crank it up. Air is too important when swimming without a wetsuit, getting little air due to mucus in the lungs and the coughing didn’t help when trying to synchronize my breathing with the short time I had my mouth out of the water. I did what I could, but had hoped for so much more. I was so dry from the heat that I actually drank a little river water. Later I found out that nearly everyone did. I caught the leader about 2/3rd through. T2 went pretty quickly and I was out on the run. It was about then that I wished I hadn’t left my fuel belt in my car. Who would think it would be needed in a race that short!

On the second run, I basically cleared a path completely scattered with people, strollers, carts, bikes, kids lying down, etc. It was madness. It slowed me down a fair amount, but was pretty fun dodging back and forth. Mr. BYU used the clear path to catch me after about 1K and congratulated me on my swim and encouraged me to come with him. It took only a short distance for him to put a huge gap on me as I struggled mightily to hold any sort of speed. I needed time on Ryan to get a lead in the series, but he was catching me for about a mile. At the turn, I had 43 seconds and pushed even harder on the way back. I’m not sure I went any faster, but I tried. BYU destroyed me with sub 5:20 miles to my 6:08 average on the 3.15M second run and Ryan managed to hold that 43 seconds. I was impressed ... with them. My 2nd run was pretty terrible for me, but I was pleased with my effort, which is what counts the most with me.

It was a lot of fun to go out there and do battle on a hot summer day. That was a lot better than staying in bed. Honestly, I feel better when I get up and move around a bit when sick. Racing twice in one day is definitely over the top, but I couldn’t skip either due to an obligation and an annual goal. Although it was nice for BYU to say things would have been different had I not been hacking up a lung, it wasn’t necessary. I show up to a race and do the best I can on that day. Only I’m responsible for my health. If I get 2nd, then I’ll live with it. If we all raced perfect races every time, then we wouldn’t need to race because we’d know how it would turn out. Although the goal is to win, it’s pretty cool to see someone outrace me like that. I’m happy for him and inspired to do better next time. The next day I was sore, but didn’t feel quite as ill. There was a race I wanted to do on Sunday (The Ultimate Runner), but being sick and not having a good reason, I chose to sleep in like the more sensible people do.

Sometimes you're the windshield ...

2008-08-13T09:19:00.000-07:00

sometimes the bug is. Before I get to that, I have to comment about the weekend.

Whether you saw it or not, the Coeur d’Alene Triathlon was absolutely spectacular. The field was stacked with pros and elite amateurs with very few notables not toeing the line.
I was all over the place, doing my best to see the race unfold. It was a bit confusing, but I had a great time. It was just like I expected it would be. The only thing I really didn’t like was that Seeley flatted. Athletes make mistakes and have to pay for it, which is part of racing, but a flat is pretty much beyond one’s control. Darling still beat everyone else with an awesome performance. My friend Steve Finley managed to win the team relay for the 8th consecutive time.

We also had the Skyfest. If you missed it, then shame on you. The opportunity to get to see the most amazing planes on the planet show their stuff is pretty rare. We even had the F-22 Raptor, the most advanced fighter plane on the planet cut loose for the first time. It’s valued at $339 million and we had two in action. I spent my 13 hour shifts guarding the Raptor, but have to get permission to post the pics due to security protocol. The Blue Angels flew, putting on an amazing show. Several other planes from the past and present took to the sky to show their stuff. There were several on static display to walk through or around. A personal favorite is the C-5, which is big enough to play football inside! The turnout was incredible as tens of thousands came out for the show. Still some make their daily trip to Starbucks for coffee, but miss out on a show like this. Even if planes aren’t an interest, which is the case for me, it’s a rare opportunity that many missed out on.

After having been annihilated with 7 x 13 hour shifts (91 hour week), I was really worn out after having spent valuable sleep time to watch Coeur d’Alene and go in early to get to see the air show (I work nights). It was very disappointing to not get to participate in such a big race. Things have been going extremely well for me in training and racing. I’m posting faster times than I’ve ever posted and figured I could do very well at Coeur d’Alene. I doubt I could have won, but certainly could have made things interesting. To put my mind at ease, I went for a hard run on Sunday. It was my best time around Medical Lake this year. Next up, I went for a TT around Clear Lake. Unfortunately, I had an encounter with a wasp or hornet about 1K from the end of the TT and 5K from home. It flew into the small gap of my tri top and stung me in the chest. If you remember my Canada story, then you’ll understand I have trouble when stung. I’m not sure if it was anxiety or a reaction, but getting home was a chore. On a bright note, I beat my all-time PR, despite slowing up and nearly crashing as I beat my chest to smash the little monster. Although I killed the little bugger, he got the best of me. Sometimes you’re the windshield and sometimes the bug is.

Since Sunday, I’ve really been struggling to make it day to day. Breathing problems, aches, dizziness, and so on. I’ve been bed ridden for four days and counting because of a sting. It’s amazing that I can work so hard to build a strong and resilient body, but just a little sting nearly hospitalizes me. I still get up for my daily run, which is embarrassingly slow. It’s not the best of ideas, but it keeps me going (four years, seven months, thirteen days in a row and counting …).

Kiwanis: The Other Sprint Nationals

2008-08-03T22:35:00.001-07:00

August 3rd may be the day of Troika, but to me its all about Sprint Nationals. Unfortunately it’s in New York. For the first time in five years, I’m just too worn out from work, house/yard work and training to want to take a trip anywhere other than to my bed. Although it’s not the same, I chose Kiwanis on the 2nd as my substitute. My simple goal was to race it like it were Sprint Nationals.
While Matt and Jessie aren't looking, I pour some nitro into my Podium Quest water bottle. It has two compartments, which allows me to have both nitro and water.

Judging from the responses this year, people seem to be interested in stories of humor, suffering and great battles. Last week was nothing like that and its entertainment value seemed to go over like a lead balloon. Although the race may not have been interesting, it was a very rare breakthrough for me. I suppose I can understand the lack of excitement over the success of someone who’s had his fair share of it, but it was more than just another win. To me, it was stunning. Fortunately, in terms of athletic performance, Kiwanis was very much the same. Unfortunately, the story is pretty much the same as well. My apparent lack of passion for telling this story belies just how awesome it feels to finally have a major breakthrough.

Look closely and you can see the zippers go down the side to the ankles. It's the not-so-popular Piel. I've got gear for most occasions and the Piel is perfect for this one. It's faster than going without a wetsuit and transitions much faster than any other wetsuit in the world. Every second counts.

I swam 240m (instead of what I measured at 247m) according to where I was standing when they started so unexpectedly. My time was 2:55.1, which left me rather breathless. I lead from the start and had no idea when the next person came out, but with the swim being so short, we had at least three people in T1 before I left. For the first time in years, I wore the Piel, which has breakaway zippers from shoulder to ankles that can come completely off in six seconds while running. It's perfect for a super short swim. My shoes were already on the bike, so I was in and out in a flash. Rather than taking my split right out of the transition area, I took it when I got to the road (I know the precise bike distances from there). My split for the extra long T1 was a smokin’ 1:10.5.

One of my goals was to avoid the chaos that normally comes at a buoy. With this swim being so short, that turn can be especially bad at just 120m in. Last time I was third out of the water, but avoided getting beat up. Although it would be nice to have feet to follow, being untouched for an entire swim is pretty nice. I have home court advantage. My house is 1200m away (almost directly behind me).
If it weren't for pictures, I'd have no idea how this swim ended up. I normally take a look back from time to time, but was too focused. I'm guessing I have about a :15 lead. Look at the mob near the buoy! That's too much for this hydrophobic to endure. Avoiding that mess is what motivates me in swim training even more than my desire to be competitive.

Although I’m riding a lot faster these days, it feels a lot the same. It all goes back to my line about how we all feel pain, but it happens at a different pace. Despite not feeling very good out there, my times left me pretty happy. I set a PR around Clear Lake and managed to do the entire 10.04M bike in 23:27.9 (25.67 MPH). Coming into T2, I was ready to blaze through as fast as I could. My goal was 30 seconds from the turn off Salnave to the start of the run. It seemed unreasonable, but I almost made it with a 30.9.

For now, I think it's a race against the clock. I always need goals to strive for so I don't get lazy. I don't have anyone to race through T2, unless you count that 30 second goal.
Just as I look up the driveway to Salnave to see if someone is hot on my heels, Roger tells me I have a 5 second lead. I thought it would be a rerun of Snake River Sprint when I thought I was completely alone until Ben ran past as I synched my shoes. I took a quick look at the turn, but with so many people in the park, I couldn't tell if anyone was there or not. Rather than continuing to look, I just judged from the actions of the aid station volunteers. If I got caught, I've always got the afterburners ready for the sprint to the finish.

Starting the run, my cumulative race time was 28:04.4. Roger told me I had a 5 second lead. I have to admit that I hadn’t been looking, so I was surprised. I think he was just trying to fool me. It worked. I thought someone was chasing me for nearly two miles! I was running hard enough that I wouldn't change my pace until passed anyway, so I never took a good look. My run goal was sub 17, so I pushed hard to stay on pace, but knew that could put me in under 45:00. I ran a 16:44.3 for the 2.89M (5:47.51/M). I was pleased with the run considering how hard I rode, but normally expect to run faster. My finish time was 44:48.7. Allegedly the CR was 48:18, set by yours truly. The swim was shorter than the listed 400 yards by 124m (I prefer meters to yards, so I convert), which saved me 90 seconds of the 3:30 under the CR. We’re talking a shorter sprint, not an Olympic or Half Iron. Where did the other 2 minutes come from? How is that possible on such a short race? This race has been done on more than one occasion by a few fast athletes. I can’t find my journal (must be in boxes from moving) from my two previous tries to compare splits. I know I saved a lot by nailing the transitions and biking faster, but this just doesn’t add up. Of course, it didn’t add up last week either, but the Clear Lake bike and run course is exactly the same every year, just like Kiwanis bike and run is exactly the same.
I'm polite, but I find it annoying that people think sprints are easy or think it's a walk in the park for me. At best, sprints have the most potential to be easy because they're shorter. However, everything you experience in a longer race is amplified by the greater intensity. More pain, less air, cramps, dizziness, higher heart rate, blood in your lactic acid, etc. You can work your way through problems when going at a slower pace, but you can't fake your way past the cramps, injuries, side aches, which means you have to slow down and watch the parade go by. To do well at sprints, you have to avoid all mistakes, know your limits, be willing to suffer a lot and hang on tight.

After racing triathlons since 1992, not much comes as a surprise these days. It doesn’t seem possible that I could be that much faster. I’m having trouble believing it and feel pretty uneasy about it too. On the other hand, I’m pretty good with numbers, so I’m left feeling one thing and knowing another. In this case, that’s not such a bad thing, but where was this speed six weeks ago in Estonia when I needed it most? Moreover, it's a shame I can't do Coeur d'Alene next week to go head-to-head with Seeley and Thompson (we're all in the same age group) and so many other great athletes to see how I actually stack up. I have a pretty good idea from how the race looks on paper, but races aren't done on paper.Roger and I talking tri. He's so fast on a bike that I'd need a motorcycle to keep up. We've both been racing really well this year, but unlike me, he gets to test himself against Matt Seeley next week. Can you tell I'm a bit jealous? At least I had Seeley for a house guest and got to pick his brain about training and racing. The next day, he was clearly comfortable in route to destroying everyone in Troika with a 4:02:47! His regret was not pushing the run so he could go under four hours. I'd have to tag Ryan Hall for the run to go sub 4.

Clear Lake Triathlon: The Perfect Race

2008-07-28T10:29:00.000-07:00

It’s been a tough year. Heck, it’s been a tough three years, but things are coming together. We all have our problems and simply want that perfect race. I would settle for the perfect schedule leading into a race. I got both. With plenty of sleep, great training numbers and a race 10 minutes from my house, I felt like something great was possible. It was so much better than that.

A fist bump with Jen just before the start. Amanda in the middle, Cherese in the QR (about to show us what bit-time talent can do with almost zero training), and my friends Laura and Jessica in the lower left. You'll see Jessica in my near crash bike pic later.

The Clear Lake Triathlon is a military-sponsored race. It’s local, so the race was me vs. the clock instead of the usual competition. It’s a 600y swim, 15.34M bike, 5K run and two long transitions. In 2005, I helped organize the the first race, as well as provided accurate race distances for the bike and run.
I was very focused and ready to go. I expected big things today. Things turned out better than expected.

On race morning, I was well rested and ready to go. Thanks to Robin and Morgan at Fitness Fanatics for making sure my bike was ready too. My aero bar elbow pad broke for the third time and I decided to replace the bars instead of fix them again. They got my bike in the morning and had it race ready before I got off work. I could have ridden with my elbow on the hard carbon wing, but it’s pretty uncomfortable and slippery.
At this angle, you can see me on the left with Cherese on the far right (in 2nd) and Amanda just to her left (picture left). Amanda was following my line. They got out of the water about 1:00 and 1:15 back. A closer look and you can see that I have gigantic paddle hands. It's clear from the big races that my hands don't make me a fast swimmer.

My goal was to beat my best time (1:06:48.8). Without serious competition, this would essentially be a TT with a race taking place behind me. This was the last race I did in 2005 before shattering my collar bone. It was a training race, so I never got to test my peak level fitness. Considering how close I am to that fitness level, I wouldn’t make that mistake again. When the swim started, I let loose, blasting to the front and never looked back. Somehow, I was always right on target as I constantly focused on stroke and body position. Rounding the boat and heading toward shore, I realized I didn’t have a sight plan. With the sun coming up and blinding me, I did a little geometry based on the other swimmers in order to find the exit. If I missed, I’d have to backtrack and swim around some boat docks to the other side (I don’t swim under docks unless I’m really desperate). My line led me almost exactly to where I wanted to be. Coming out in 7:13, I was well ahead of last year’s pace.
Being really lean isn't the greatest in the water. A wetsuit helps, but I have to swim very low. I like this pic because it shows that I have a good clean stroke and other than the wake, there's not much of me to see.

T1 took us across the sand, up some stairs, around a picnic area and into the only transition area I know of that’s in deep pea gravel. My feet don’t feel much after a swim, so it wasn’t a bother to me. I just know I needed to beat 1:58. My split was 1:32, thanks to avoiding any mistakes and pushing pretty hard. I was well ahead of pace and simply needed to ride hard. I don’t have a computer on my bike. I have math and RPE.
Eventually I'll have to breathe. Looks almost like a shark fin. This is under water swimming.
Just to the left of the boat docks. It's always nice to stay on course in the swim.
You can't do math without numbers to work with. It's always a surprise to see pictures like this. I've just raced myself to oxygen debt, and come raging out of the water with the water blasting around me, yet I still remember to get a split. This was an all out effort.

I figured I was doing really well, but wouldn’t know until the end the lap. We had a bit of wind, which skews the numbers, but I ride this course a lot. My PR for one loop is 17:59, which was in a Trailblazer bike TT in 2005, so you can imagine how fired up I was to see an 18:05! I planned on averaging 18:45 and hoped for an 18:30. Lap two was 18:06. My combined time was 36:12 (25.42 MPH). To see splits like that on a speed-eating loop was almost unbelievable. My only problem was heading into T2. Spectators were sitting and standing across the resort entrance. People ran and rolled for their lives as I weaved and did the best I could to avoid them while making a high speed turn. I fishtailed and nearly crashed into a fence, but pulled through it with my legendary (ha ha) bike skills. I wasn’t able to break while maneuvering, so I wasn’t sure I’d stop in time. Lucky for me, I was heading for the best place to crash … a boat launch. It would cost me time, but it would be cool and I wouldn’t get badly hurt riding directly into the lake.
Sorry Tiffany. This was as close as they got for my near crash. The guy in red ran forward, the person sitting is actually gathering herself from rolling out of my way. There were around a dozen people scattering. My friend Jessica is watching me fishtail and try not to crash into the fence. I had just lapped her and had to push really hard to get around her before the turn. It was that or slow down and turn behind her, but my bike doesn't let me slow down. It's against the law!

I made the turn and pushed through T2. It was 57 seconds (6 seconds faster than last year). Again I suffered the race leader curse as I rounded the corner to head onto the run. A family of four had the path blocked with two rafts. They jumped into the rafts as I jumped over them. The run starts on a steep hill up to the road. It bogged me down, but I had two numbers to keep me going. If I ran an 18:04, then I’d go under 1:04:00! It’s not a fast 5K, so although a sub 18 is usually automatic, this time it wasn’t. I had been biking really hard and didn’t have much left. My knee held up well and I managed to get through that 5K in 18:01.5 (5:48.08/mile) for a 1:03:56.8 finish! Margins only matter to me when compared to top competition, but it gives you a better idea of how the race went to consider 2nd place was almost 14 minutes back. Amanda continued her string of constant improvements with a 4th consecutive win here in a personal best time, which is a new course record. She was the 3rd individual, about a minute behind the top team and 30 seconds back on the 2nd individual.
This hill really hurt. If you look closely, you'll see three green roofs on the left. The lowest one, between the other two, is where T2 was. I run hills fairly well, but this bugger really ate up a lot of time. Can my stride get any shorter?

I had only once entertained the thought of sub 1:05, which I thought was big-time wishful thinking. To go a minute faster than that and two minutes faster than my goal absolutely blows my mind. I’m almost afraid to put it down for me to read, let alone others, but I really feel like I might have made a big breakthrough in the last few weeks and put it it all together on Saturday. Racing for as many years as I have, A big PR usually means a minute or less per hour. To drop 2:52 is astounding and one of the few times I really get to be excited!
I don't celebrate coming into the finish. If I'm celebrating, then I'm not working hard enough. No need for throwing up the #1 digit(s) in the air and no holering or showing off. That's for special occasions. Respect the race and the people in it.

On another note, my dad, who has been missing for almost three years, showed up just before we started our swim! It’s odd how I was able to recognize his voice in a crowd when I was so focused on the race. He stayed and watched the whole thing and really dug into how my races, among other things, have been going this year. It was odd to have someone else look over my training journal, but fun to see what I’ve been through this year. I wonder how things will go from here.My dad: retired Army, silver star, bronze star and two purple hearts. It's been tough for him to cope with what he's been through.Post race: Taylor (my niece's friend), me, my dad, Amanda and my niece Alecia (moving here from Alaska).

Tiger Tri

2008-07-23T00:03:00.000-07:00

I was born in and grew up in Colville. I’ve avoided going there since my grandmother’s funeral. Tiger Tri is the only triathlon she had ever been able to watch. The first was back in the 90s. We’ll just say that I was slower then, finishing outside the top 100. I competed another year as a swimmer on the record-setting team with Mark Knokey and Jason Hubbard. Jason (from Colville) was two-time NCAA II 5K champ with a 13:37 to his credit. I’d never turn down an opportunity to be on a team like that. We shattered the record with a time around 1:47 or 1:48. His run, a sub 33, was so fast some thought he cheated. That was at the end of a 120-mile training camp in the mountains! With so much changing between then and now, I decided it would be time to give it another try.

After Righteous Richland, I set two bike course PRs. My speed is getting back to where it was before shattering my collar bone on 31 July, 2005. Back then, I was a faster biker than runner, but never got to test my top speed in a race. I was going to race Timberman as a pro. Five months later I could lift more than five pounds. Fast forward to now and things are coming around. It’s been frustrating, especially with the pain and discomfort of trying to ride aero, my arm going numb in all training and having Thoracic Outlet Syndrome (poor circulation causing aches and a very cold hand in the winter). Some people are allergic to broken collar bones and I happen to be one of them.

I was relieved from work early Saturday, and was able to head to the race with Amanda, resting on the way. Secretly, I hoped for the usual top competition, but, Tim Swanson spoiled the mood and told me Roger Thompson was racing Chelan Man. Joe Byers (two-time defending champion and course record holder) was not signed up. Ben Greenfield (two-time Tiger participant and Tri-Northwest’s #1 ranked half Iron and overall triathlete in 2007) was not signed up either. If I can’t race them, then I can compete against the six times they’ve posted in the last three years. Although they’re faster, this course suits my strengths, so I was going for the record. The short swim suits my speed and lack of range. The bike is downhill, making the distance less of a factor and the aerodynamics and roll-out numbers on my bike a bigger factor. Suspension and aerodynamics make a Softride FasTT7 the best choice for this course. The run was long and tough, which suits me well. My only concern was a knee injury from doing my first speed work run of the year on Tuesday. Yeah, I know. It was stupid and greedy and that’s what I get.

I got there so early that I had plenty of time to ham it up, flex for the cameras and (gasp) actually talk to people! Amanda always gives me a courtesy laugh.

We arrived at 6 AM! If you’ve ever had the pleasure of working nights wearing heavy military combat gear and showing up to race with 15 to 20 minutes to the start, then you’ve got my 2008. I had more time than I knew what to do with. My hope was to race Phaedra’s bib (#2), my favorite number and a nice gesture since she couldn’t race. Like usual, my request for an elite number was denied. I’m always told they reserved the numbers for the faster triathletes. Do they think world cup racers are coming? On my way back to the car, I passed none other than the amiable Joe Byers. It looks like the #1 bib, reserved for the defending champ, was racing. It’s good news, but made me nervous. He hasn’t been racing, but he’s a great talent and has likely trained for Tiger (his favorite race). Next, I saw Ben unpacking his gear. I thought he’d show, but wasn’t on the final list. I was both disappointed and relieved that Roger wouldn’t be toeing the line.

The race started without a hitch. I pulled ahead of the pack to the safety of open water. I had no idea where Joe was, but managed to pull ahead of Ben. A swimmer off to the left was cruising a bit faster, so I started to make my way over. He kept drifting left, so I never caught his feet. I made the first turn in 2nd with someone on my feet. Whoever it was did an excellent job of drafting without pissing me off, both things I find impressive. The second leg was more of the same. One section was really shallow. I had to resist the temptation to do some dolphin dives, knowing forward progress off the bottom is illegal. About 50m after rounding the 2nd turn and heading for shore, I was passed. I was glad to have help, even if for just a little bit. The guy made an inadvertent turn and I swam over his legs, inhaled water and picked my head up to check if I had turned. I was heading for the exit, but noticed the guy looking back. At first I thought “sorry man, but you swerved to the right,” but quickly noticed it was Ben. So much for a small lead.

My cap is already off and I'm trying to get that suit off before I got out of the water. Show me the way to T1 Ben! He forgot his wetsuit last year and seems to be much faster with it on. Ken Collins isn't far behind.

I sucked on the exit and lost time like usual. My 13:24 was slightly faster than my goal. After a hard swim, running uphill while trying to contort myself and remove a wetsuit as fast as possible isn’t as fun as eating ice cream. Ben exited 4 seconds ahead, but Joe was first in 13:07! All racks were on the outside of the run path, but mine was on the turn. I’d have 14m more distance in transition than the first rack, equaling 3 seconds at my pace, which is why I wanted low bib number. Every second counts! I felt like I was literally tearing that Orca Apex off my body. It came off quickly, but somehow I ended up covered in dirt. Did someone see me rolling on the dirt? Throw the gear in the transition bag, don the helmet, grab the bike and run like a demon on judgment day. My T1 was 1:04, good for the fastest split of the day by 21 faster than Joe’s and 22 faster than Ben’s.

I can't seem to find my zipper cord. When my eyes are down like that, my mind is racing faster than I am. I'm also watching my step. Ken is nearing the exit, as stated in the above picture caption.

I fumbled a bit while putting my shoes on mid-ride, but no more than usual. My goal was to make the turn with a few seconds to relax before getting passed. I got there in 6 minutes and had a 12 second lead on Ben with Joe trailing and the speedy Ken Collins up next. They say there’s safety in numbers. I take that literally in racing. I did math to figure things out based on my 1:04 bike goal. By dividing the 12 seconds by the time it takes me to get passed and I can figure how far behind I’ll be at T2. 28 minutes into the ride, 22 minutes after the time check, I was passed very quickly. Normally that would be intimidating, but that pass would have happened long ago if he was holding that pace. At just over ½ second/minute to that point, he’d get to T2 less than 20 seconds ahead of me. I was hoping for less than 2 minutes and needed less than 3 minutes, so life was good.

Normally I don't bring out all the good stuff, but this time I did. I have my race wheels on and am wearing my USA Speedo Fastskin for better aerodynamics. The Softride really is an unfair advantage ... just check with USA cycling. Triathlon has brought about most bike technology growth in the last two decades.

I felt strong, so I went with him. I like to keep track of my competition and bleed the psychological life out of them. Bikers need a lead starting the run. Since it’s hard to see more than 30 seconds back while riding and around 1:30 when leaving T2, you need a mid-run time check to know if you’re safe. The runner knows the gap in T2. Being a runner and keeping someone in sight, is how I like to race if I’m able. USAT requires a 7m gap. Anything less is drafting. Like drafting in the swim (allegedly 30% easier) or drafting on the run into a strong wind, riding near, but outside the draft zone is smart racing. Normally I ride at 10m, but to keep tension low, I followed at 1.5 to 2 seconds. FYI, at 27 MPH, that’s 18m to 24m, which averages three times the required distance.
Zooming past T1 around 4.25 to 4.5 miles in, still in first. It's a cool and blurry pic with Amanda in T1. I included it because people keep asking me about allegedly following too closely after mile 2. There's nobody chasing in the pic before (approaching T1) and nobody ahead in this pic, so I must have been doing fine on my own.

I marked every move and could go harder if I needed. It became evident that I was going to hang on until T2. As we made a bend overlooking the outskirts of Colville, I had a repressed memory from my grandmother’s funeral come back. I remembered standing there, decked out in full service dress, crying my eyes out as I tried to come to terms with the weight (physically and emotionally) of the casket in my gloved hands. I was afraid I would collapse under the pressure. I wasn’t exactly the picture of strength people have of service men in uniform, but that was my moment and nothing else mattered. I know I joke about crying mid race, but I almost burst into tears just thinking about it. When I managed to snap out of it, Ben had a huge gap. I needed to get my mind on something else, so I gave chase and closed to 4 seconds heading into T2. My ride time was 1:03:59 … one second better than my goal! Only Ben outsplit me with a 1:03:38.

When I went up to get the award, Amanda heard a couple people behind her say "(person 1) What's that guy on? (person 2) I don't know, but he looks STRONG!" I'll tell you what I'm on: Cinnamon Bears!

T2 went well (2nd fastest) and I was able to leave with a 3 second lead. Steve Anderson had the fastest T2 outsplitting me by 2 seconds (grrr!). I forgot to synch my Zoots, which would be a problem on a course of uneven and rough terrain. I stopped, tugged the laces and was on my way. My knee injury reared its ugly head as my left leg nearly buckled a few times. I needed to run a 41:03 to go under 2 hours and figured I could go 38 flat, so I had time to settle in and figure this out. My lead grew slowly, but I knew Joe started the run around 3 minutes back. I was running well enough to not get caught, but kept him in mind. After lap one, my leg was holding, but I couldn’t afford to pick it up much. At mile 4, I still had time to go sub 2. Taking risks to win is acceptable. Taking risks from the lead could cost me the race and make my injury worse, so I cruised. After turning off the two-loop course for the finish leg, I wondered if I went the wrong way. Without people, signs or flags, I thought I’d end up lost in the hills. That’s the curse of leading, but they did send me the right way. When I made it to the track, the smell reminded me of my 200m and 400m days in HS and college track. All races should end on a track. I resisted the urge to test the legs and cruised on in with a run time of 41:42 (5th on the day). It was good enough for an overall time of 2:00:38. It would be a new course record by 57 seconds and a 1:24 lead on 2nd. Not bad considering my run trouble. Next year I race for free, but wonder if I can break the curse and finally get a top 20 number.

Lori, Greg and Natalie. Lori's lookin good. Greg is going to be the fastest biker in the club. He tells me he has a Trek TTX 9.9 while Roger only has a 9.5. It's a simple conclusion, he just needs to build it up (it's for sale for anyone interested). You can tell Natalie's an athlete from the watch on her wrist.

Following the race, Lori saved the day and gave Ben, Amanda and me a ride to our cars. That would have been a long bike ride. Amanda told her story of coming in #2 female overall to Vicki Scates. I was a bad conversationalist as I kept drifting off. Sleeping is great and I’ve made it a goal to get more of it … as long as it doesn’t cut into my racing too much. It was great to see Lori. She was a major reason for the trip. It had been too long and I dedicated my race and record to her. We hung out at awards, then had ice cream at one of her local hangouts. It was great to hear about Tim and Steve’s rivalry. Greg Gallagher and I are both extremely competitive, addicted to high tech bike gear and sugar. I like my sugar in the form of cinnamon bears. They make me as strong as a bear! Oh, and thanks to Natalie, one of the blog stalkers here, for offering to let me borrow her car to transport a few of the racers back to their car at the end of the race. I think she was mentioning that she had the same knee problem I have. If you’re reading this, or anyone else has any ideas, then please share. It hurts to walk, but not to run on a nice paved trail. It looks like I’ll have to confine myself to the treadmill for a while. I'm sure it will be better before Tiger 2009. Perhaps I'll see you there. Sub 2 will happen. For now, go read Amanda's blog. There's a link here and many of you didn't know she has started blogging too.

Righteous Richland (mountain bike) Sprint Tri

2008-07-08T13:21:00.000-07:00

I swear I don’t spend time thinking of stupid things to do. I’m not fond of self torture either, yet ended up with a heavy dose of both. It’s a behavioral disorder. Two sprint Tris: Race the River or Righteous Richland? Ryan Brown was signed up for his hometown race in Richland. It’s an off road tri, he’s an off-road racer and trains on this course. We’d have a sleepless unskilled off-road racer drive more than two hours to an unfamiliar course to race the local favorite and three-time defending champion. I figured Roger would whoop me, but Ryan would whoop me by more, so I chose Righteous Richland for a better challenge. Why sleep when I could race?

I put borrowed ITU aero bars on a borrowed mountain bike. It took some thick pads in the clamps to hold the bars in place … sort of. My hope was to limit my losses riding aero on the paved section. Vertical Earth couldn’t be aware of my poor mountain biking skills. Otherwise, they wouldn’t have loaned me a mountain bike. After work I drove the whole way without dozing off. I had just enough time to get set up and do the short warm-up swim I promised myself after Ironman. The race: ½-mile swim in the river, 12-mile bike and 5K run.

I quickly took the lead, but a guy was trying to outrace me. I eased up and got on his toes. Oh, so it’s time to get lazy? Nope. I’m just racing smart. Meanwhile, the smart/experienced ones arced wide to let the current carry them to the lead. I was distracted until the swim exit angle was 45 degrees, then 90 degrees and finally, I was swimming back toward the exit against the mild current near shore. Next time I’ll probably remember to adjust my aim for the current and not lose my lead.

My 6:50 swim was top 5, but Ryan was ahead. I hoped for a :30 buffer. Game over! Refusing to listen to those silly details, I charged the hill, and blazed T1, exiting in first place. My split was 1:25 … sort of. Arriving late kept me from hearing that the mount line was just out of T1, normally a no-brainer. We were in a park and had to work our way to the road. Hello rookie! Mountain bikers ride off-road. I’m running as Ryan rides past me. I got my T1 split at the road.

One thing to know about Ryan is that he’s a fast biker. I’m talking Roger fast. If the bike I was riding had a panic button, I’d push it. Instead, I just went hard and hoped I could finish biking without getting passed by too many. Remember how the aero bars needed pads to fit better? I didn’t. I almost crashed as the pad squished and the front end dropped almost to the tire, making it feel like they were made from a garden hose. Sorry volunteer guy. I wasn’t trying to swerve at you like that.

The bars were terrible, but more stable and comfortable than resting my forearms on the handle bars like a real biker can. Mountain bikes feel like they can corner at any speed. After nearly making it into the river for the 2nd time this race, I decided to be more careful. At the off road section, I was thrilled to be just :15 down. I scanned the terrain and worked the single track for all the speed I could get. Rolling up to an arrow pointing to the right, I went wide, leaned and powered into that corner.

Apparently God isn’t required to make corners like people do. It was about 100 degrees, covered with sand and just wide enough to roll a basket ball between the trees and bushes. It’s OK that I wasn’t on the path, but not OK that my face, neck, hands, and arms were getting raked by the trees and bushes. Why waste time with glasses to protect my eyes? Seeing where I was supposed to go wasn’t working for me anyway. I had no idea where Ryan was. I didn’t know where I was. It reminds me of youth group … way back when I was half my age. The pastor said “If you can’t follow the straight and narrow, then swerve across it as much as possible.” That’s how my ride went.

I hit nearly every branch and bush on (or was it off?) the course. Nearing the road I was told Ryan was 1:45 up. The good thing about his lead being 7 times bigger is that it’s less than 8. Allegedly he had to stop for a quick CO2 blast to fill a low tire. I had a low tire too, but was planning on airing it up after I crashed (the fastest way to stop). I made it back to T2 in 2nd. My ride was 34:39 (20.78 MPH). I had scratches from waist to helmet. Note to self: Next time wear a shirt and glasses retard.

A high school XC relay dude took off while I was in T2 for 18 seconds. I didn’t expect to catch XC or Ryan (around 1:30 to 2:00 ahead). On the first corner, I realized I forgot to synch my shoes. That’s just too darn bad. I can tighten them when I sit down to cry until I get dehydrated at the finish line, but for the moment, I was busy. First lie, “I can pass XC guy within a quarter mile.” Naturally, I try it and caught him. Next lie, “If I run really hard for a mile, then I can walk. It’s over anyway.”

I pushed so hard I sounded like a drowning asthmatic cow. I saw a guy up the trail on his daily run. Pretending it was Ryan, I gave chase. To my surprise, it was Ryan. Sneaking up on him was out of the question. He was having a good run (according to him), but I was closing in fast. With a mile to go, I ran up on him. He sped up and I thought, “He was just cruising and is now going to crush me.” I called myself some mean names to get fired up (works every time). So I’m psychotic! Instead of letting him surge ahead, I ran stupid fast and passed him trying to make it look easy. I wasn’t fooling anyone.

He lost the draft, so I kept pressing to keep him from coming back. I pushed for 1:30 to make him think I could run that fast. It doesn’t make sense to run faster than I was capable to make someone believe I could run that fast. My legs were fine, but my lungs and guts didn’t totally love it (stole that last part from Jessi). I thought he was holding a small gap and waiting to sprint past me, so I kept pushing and doing time/distance math (I love math) to coax myself to the finish. To my surprise, I got there before he did.

My run time was 17:20 (5:34.73/M) and my finish time was 1:00:34. Ryan came in :28 seconds back. I don’t know if the run was long or short. I just know I got lucky. I did what I thought I couldn’t do. Rather than my traditional 180 second walk, I stumbled under a tree and fell on my face … still gasping violently for air. A nice man named Steve told me to keep walking to keep lactic acid from pooling up. I was OK with lactic acid. I was not OK with moving. I wondered if the challenge of beating the odds is worth it. I thrive on that more than winning. If winning mattered, then I’d avoid the fast guys and the races they have an advantage in, especially when I have to travel on no sleep. A few times this year I’ve gutted out wins over better athletes. I know I’m not the fastest, so I guess I have to be the toughest.

Military World Championships (continued)

2008-07-02T12:38:00.000-07:00

Somewhere around 3:00 AM on Sunday, 15 June, I woke with terrible back and hamstring pain. They didn’t just hurt, but also had a terrible burning sensation. I’m surprised the pain didn’t wake me sooner. After my back injury in 1997, I’ve had trouble sleeping pain free on most beds. At home, I have a king sized, deluxe Tempurpedic, which is adjustable and has a massager and heating blanket. Even with that, I rarely have a great night (day) of sleep. I didn’t have trouble in California, but I took two-hour naps during the day and slept less at night. Three nights in Estonia really did a number on me. None of my little tricks helped make me comfortable.

At 3:30 I had to take action. My biggest race this year was 6 hours 46 minutes away. It’s only dark from 1 to 3 AM, so I went for a walk, taking short breaks to stretch. After a couple hours working on it with little success, I went to get the doc. As a matter of principal, I do not take meds for anything but extreme necessity. I can handle pain without a word of complaint, but I’m not fast enough to compete against top pros at all. Competing when I’m so tight that I can’t bend over far enough to touch my knees really had me worried. I’ve never been that tight.

I took a muscle relaxer and something for the pain as the doc, massage therapist and a team mate started working on me. I’m glad Dr. Bales (AF Team Mate/Surgeon) wasn’t there to work on me. He always asks to cut me open. Although he promises to sew me shut, it doesn’t seem that appealing. After six hours of work, I was barely able to sit and reach all the way to the middle of my shins. I was glad they were able to help so much and thankful my team helped me get my gear to the transition area and alleviate my high level of stress. I don’t mind showing up at last minute for a race as long as it isn’t a national or especially a world championship.

As I got ready, I added the week’s training numbers. I hadn’t swam since the previous Sunday at a sprint in California in which Team USA had free entry. We took the top four spots. I was 2nd to our top guy. I biked twice for 32 miles. My run was way down at about 21 for the previous 7 days. International travel is hard on training. The numbers were similar on the way home. I didn’t want to do a bunch of training before the race, but preferred to do more and get some quality. Spending the final week without swimming had me worried. It’s very important to success in ITU. Throw in my super tight hamstrings and back and my usual worry free approach was a high anxiety affair.

I was ready to race in time to see the masters men start. McCoy’s cap ripped, so he found another green cap, but a brighter shade, which helped identify him. He was in good position as they came out of the water for the 2nd loop. That’s about all I got to see of his race. With the four waves and a two loop swim, it was a bit of a crazy start, but I lined up at the back of the USA corral and started patiently behind an extremely fast field of swimmers. Back home, I’m one of the faster swimmers when I bring my A game. Here, my very best would still have me behind more than 75% of the swimmers.

I found feet to follow, but was too tight to get good extension or roll. My usually weak kick, which is more like a twitch, strained my back, but I did my best. As I ran onto the beach after lap 1, I looked back to see how many athletes I was leading. I can process numbers pretty quickly and was determined to get an accurate count. As it turns out, counting was pretty easy. It went like this … there’s one. Look closer behind me and scan behind that swimmer. OK, so I’m next to last. This sucks! After all these years waiting for a wet-suit swim at MWTC, which really improves my rank, I have an atrocious swim. I really motored the second lap, closing in on the leaders (ha ha), passing three to finish 82nd of 86 with a time of 22:57. The fastest swim time was 16:25!

After seriously contemplating a DNS, I was glad to be out of the water. I would finish, regardless of how long it took. I was willing to take all day. I ran hard to my bike, but knew drafting was going to be tough on this course since I was almost on my own. I saw a Swedish guy I’ve raced with since 2003 at MWTC. We are pretty comparable on the bike and run, but he’s always followed me out of the water. He’s been trying to work on his swim and turned pro this year (racing half Iron), so like our plan last year, we were going to work together on the bike together. I’ve always beat him out of the water by quite a bit and came in thinking this year would be no different, but I was wrong. I took a moment to eat a gel in T1 and headed out onto the three-loop bike course that was well over 40K. T1 time: 1:01, which was :28 slower than the fastest T1. I didn’t even pretend to care.

Once on the bike, I could feel the strain on my hams as we immediately tackled a 10% grade hill. My Swedish team mate (I’m their adopted team mate since I’m Swedish too), made up the few seconds as I caught the top Canadian triathlete (they use real military members like the US, but it would have been cool to see Whitfield race). Having two guys I could communicate with and trust to work with me, with one of them being a strong cyclist (Sweden), seemed like the perfect way to get myself back into this race. Well, I could have Armstrong’s US Postal TDF Time Trial Team pulling me and I wouldn’t get “into” this race, but you know what I mean. After my first pull heading into the next hill, my Swedish friend and Canadian guy attacked. Lucky for me, they caught a small group a bit ahead. They took them a moment to recover before deciding to pass.

I caught the group and rested a moment just as they locked onto the wheels of my two companions descending a hill. That group began to fall apart at the next hill. I worked my way through dropped cyclists and pulled through, then peeled off. Again, I was attacked by Canada and Sweden. I was irritated they’d do that, but amused that they’d attack a nobody at the back end of the race instead of using me to help them catch more riders. My run isn’t the stuff of legend, so it’s certainly not feared in Canada and Sweden. Back home, I’ve only been outsplit once this year in the 2nd run or 1st in triathlon (by Jason Jablonski … who hasn’t). I’ve outsplit some fast guys, but at this race, I’d likely be somewhere in the middle. So the senseless bike battle continued. I’d get dropped and have to spend about a mile catching back up. I wasn’t going to let them get rid of me.

Starting lap 2, they put in a vicious attack on the first hill, right after I pulled. They saw a gap and started trading places to increase their advantage and catch the next group. The group was small, but caused them to slow in a couple places while working their way through. After spending everything I had, I was able to reel them in a half lap later. Three USA guys were in the pack, which I thought could help me. One was struggling after a pull and I helped him back into the line. I was hurting too, so I wasn’t able to watch out for him any more. Two of them fell out quickly. The third lasted for a few miles. My legs recovered and I decided I wasn’t going to do my share any more. I’d skip a pull each time to rest up for the next attack. As expected, they kept attacking, but my plan helped me stay on their wheels. With a half lap to go, they realized they weren’t getting rid of me and settled down. We biked around 26.75 to 27 miles, but I don’t have an accurate number. I mention that because my time was 1:06:50.6, which was 68th fastest. Oddly enough, it put me in 68th place. The fastest bike time was 58:35.4 (amazing speed and team work to do that on a long hilly course).

My T2 wasn’t the unmotivated effort of T1, but I had trouble lugging my bike as my back and hamstrings tried to lock up. T2 took :39 as I kept an eye on Canada and Sweden. I was going to make them pay. I know they’re big words for a small fish in a big pond. Don’t make me angry. You won’t like to race me when I’m angry. My legs were fried from the attacks. An XC run on tired legs played to my strength. As expected, Sweden was running strong. I needed a couple laps to recover while red lining. Starting lap two he had put about :10 more on the :09 he had starting the run. My legs were coming back and he was too. Canada had been dropped early and my race was about catching Sweden. Early in lap 4, I made the pass. Normally I’d extend a hand or offer an encouraging word, but I wasn’t in the mood after his bike tactics. To help me make the pass stick, I keyed on another runner and decided to run him down. In the end, I was only able to pass three people on the run. Physically I passed a lot more than that, but they were women or runners a lap ahead of me. I didn’t get a measure on the run course, so I don’t know how accurate it was. It had challenging terrain with plenty of turns and scattered with people. My time was 36:23, which was good for 45th (43rd was the middle I expected). Only three runners were able to break 32 and just nine were under 33 minutes, so it was a pretty tough course. .

Bottom line for the race was 2:07:50, good for 65th place. Compare that to a two-time Olympian (4th or 6th in 2004) with a time of 1:49:25 and you can see just how big the gap in speed is. I will say that he had a phenomenal group to ride with. Germany swept the podium, but had several other teams/riders willing to work together to turn it into a runner’s race. That kind of team work probably shaved off several minutes in several ways, but it still blows my mind how fast these guys are. I was the only US athlete, male or female to have a slower swim time than at Armed Forces. All other 16 athletes from the US swam much faster. If I swam like they did, then I would have gone under 21:00, which I’ve done in the pool and in accurate open water swims in the past year. That would equate to biking a couple minutes faster as part of a 21-person group. Being part of that group would mean plenty of rest and no chasing attackers. My legs wouldn’t have been fried and I could have run a minute faster. All said and done, that would mean I could have shaved five minutes and 13 places. Gotta love the “what ifs.”

The US Elite Men’s team placed 13th. They score the top three from each team. Since I was 3rd on my team, I was a scoring member for the first time. I’ve been last in my previous three attempts. My run time was the fastest of the US, which is also pretty cool. Mike McCoy was 4th in the master’s division, after falling a few seconds behind bronze on the run. He did bring home gold as part of the top masters team, which scores 2 men and one woman. Following the race, we had several hours to get cleaned up and recover before awards and closing ceremony. In the past, it’s been immdeiately after the race, causing many to pass out from standing at the position of attention in the hot summer sun for over an hour. I don't know about you, but after the hardest race of the year, I don't like to immediately get cleaned up, put on a suit and stand motionless in the hot sun. There's no stretching, scratching, drinking, or adjusting in any fashion, etc. Troops stand motionless and silent, end of story. This time we’d also have shade and cool air to keep us comfortable. Following awards was another great dinner and a post race party. I was having trouble getting around and pretty tired, so I turned in early.

The next day was culture day in Tallinn, Estonia. We toured the city on bus first, then our tour guides took us on foot through the city for shopping, food, sight seeing, etc. It was a really cool experience. Following our tour, we had a final athlete dinner and party before heading to our room for a short night of sleep before a long trip back. At the airport I got to hang out with the podium-sweeping men’s team and female champion from the German team. They’re so nice and encouraging, saying that I could be that fast if I trained full time like they did. It’s much appreciated, but if I had that kind of potential, then I would train full time. Three of us were heading into Chicago, but they had double booked our seats. I missed home terribly and wasn’t giving up my seat and encouraged McCoy and the other US guy to keep their seat. A flight attendant came back to find us in matching uniforms and holding our ground. Upon hearing that we were US Troops coming back from representing the US in the Military World Triathlon Championships, she moved us up to business class. We had seats that reclined all the way back, thick blankets, remote tv/movies, all sorts of free food and beverages, a buffet and a bathroom with windows. It was a pretty comfy way to make an international trip.

Now I’m home and writing this the week after Ironman, so I feel like the season is over. I’m sure I’ll find some challenges to keep me from getting too lazy. On the other hand, it’s nice to relax after having so much pressure to peak three months early.

Looking back at the German team and several others, I'm puzzled about their athletes' inclusion into their military. Their national federation puts their top ten members into the military for the purpose of competing. That's their job. When they're no longer more competitive than another athlete for their country, they're removed from the military. What purpose does that serve a military? Our athletes are in the military first and try to earn those spots. If they succeed, then great. If they don't, then they still serve in his/her job. In the process, they become fitter along with all of those who try to get a spot on the team or WCAP. We become a resource and motivation for other troops who want to compete for a spot or just want to get in better shape. It breeds fitness and competition that runs completely through the ranks. That is an important difference that the other militaries failed to match. It also helps develop a fitter fighting force for the US. Not all of us will be racers and some are terribly unfit, but for the most part, these programs are well worth the cost and I'm honored to be recognized as one of the top athltetes in the US Armed Forces. That's why I always proudly wear my colors to the races in which I compete.

Military World Triathlon Championships (MWTC)

2008-07-01T20:58:00.000-07:00

Every prior year, since I started racing for the Air Force in 2003, has had suspense in the roll down. I’ve never automatically qualified for a spot. Troops are always having to go to war or other TDYs or deployments or just can’t get away from work. This year I was able to qualify automatically and it feels pretty darn good.

The US men's elite team and Armed Forces finish place: Nick Dason - 3rd (Army), Ken Corigliano - 4th (AF), Michael Bergquist - 6th (ANG), John "Jay" Calvert - 9th (Navy), Eric Bates - 10th (Navy), and Phillip Giarraputo -18th (Marines).

The team would consist of 17 athletes from all branches of the US military. We send six elite men and women, three masters men and two masters women. In all, there were five from the Army, four from Air Force, four from Navy, three Marines and one Coast Guard. Although I’ve been on Active Duty for each of the last five MWTCs, I’m one of two Air National Guard (ANG) troops representing AF. I volunteered for full-time duty to help out during the rough times, but know I have it far better than a lot of our troops. My friend, Jolene Wilkenson, wasn’t able to race for the Air Force this year, so she has been missed. I was pleased that my friend/training partner Mike McCoy qualified to compete in the master’s competition. In fact, he qualified for a roll down spot in the elite division, but we only give a masters athlete an elite spot if all the masters’ spots are taken and he/she is faster than the next elite, which has happened only once.

We compete against top ranked ITU racers in the elite division, so we’re primarily competitive in the masters division. Unlike a lot of other militaries, our athletes are actual military troops. For a very select few, we have a program called World Class Athlete Program (WCAP). If they qualify, then they become a full-time athlete for up to two years leading into the Olympics, but must be a military member before getting a spot in the program. We had three this year (Tim O’Donnell, Justine Whipple and Jolene Wilkenson). Other militaries have permanent spots in their military for top athletes in certain sports. The catch is that their national federation puts their top athletes into these military positions. Once an athlete fails to be more competitive than an athlete waiting for one of those positions, then he/she is removed from the military. Our WCAP athletes return to the job that they had as a military member after the Olympic Games and have to wait another two years before applying again.

I consider myself one of the lucky ones. Although I’m an elite amateur, the US has only one sanctioned ITU race for those of us who are not pro. That race is the Armed Forces National Championship. I get a week off work with pay and an all-expense paid trip to compete. Once an athlete qualifies for the MWTC, he/she gets two more weeks of the same. We have our team of 17 athletes being taken care of by a team captain, assistants, docs, etc. We don’t have to worry about missing work or pay, because that is work. We actually get paid more. All of our travel, housing and food is paid for and taken care of for us. The only thing we need to do is be an athlete for another two weeks. It’s the sweetest of deals. Going top six at Armed Forces is tough work, but not so tough that I feel like I deserve this.

In the first week being on Team USA, I’d get extra sleep, took as much time as I needed to comfortably fit in my training and otherwise had a great time. I’d go body surfing with McCoy, watched movies I’ve been wanting to see for months, dined out a few times and yes, I rode my bike more than 50 miles!!! It was absolutely great after such a rough work schedule this last year … several years. We were issued Team USA gear. We were given T-shirts, polos, shoes, socks, shorts, sweats, bags, hats/visors, warm-ups and a couple racing suits … I’m sure I’m forgetting something. Our official racing suit for worlds never came in, despite having been ordered well in advance, so it’s a good thing we had back-up suits. Speedo and Adidas took really good care of us. It’s tough to order suits in advance for a team that hasn’t been selected yet. That said, we weren’t able to have our names on the suits like you see in other major events, but I’m OK with that. Unlike other world events for amateurs, I didn’t have to buy my gear. The back-up Speedo Fast Skin has a tag of $270 alone. Between travel, gear, wages and other expenses, the price tag for me over the month was in the ball park of $7,000 to $8,000. Needless to say, I’m really grateful.

The team traveled to Estonia through Atlanta and Stockholm. After arriving in Estonia, we had a three-hour bus ride to the race site, but it was along with athletes from a few other countries. Things were starting to get interesting and fun. I chatted with Paul from Austria. He’s a pro that I met last year in India for the Military World Games. This is my third consecutive year, so the faces and names are starting to get familiar. It made the long ride go by quickly, but I was also pretty tired and ready for the 30-hour day to end.

We arrived on site late in the evening, but the sun was still up. In fact, we were so far north that my 11 PM run was just after the sun set. We ran a 3.65-mile run on a beautiful trail that reminded me a lot of the back side of the trail around Medical Lake. My body was tired and got winded from the pace around 7:30/mile, but it felt good to move my legs. When we got back to the bed and breakfast that housed Team USA, I was ready for a shower and a long night of sleep. After the water concerns in India last year, it was great to have water that was safe to drink and shower in. I slept really well as the rest of the team had jet lag. After working nights for years on end, being 10 hours ahead of Pacific Standard Time, I was going to bed fairly close to when I normally did.

The next day I unpacked my bike and made sure it was working, but didn’t feel like riding it. I didn’t feel like swimming either. To be truthful, if I didn’t have a streak of nearly four and a half years of running daily, then I wouldn’t have exercised at all. My goal was to see the athlete village, talk to as many strangers as possible and take in the experience. We had a 2nd floor pool, computer room, a resort dining facility, track, weight room and plenty of other things that you’d find at a resort/athlete village. It was Friday and our race was Sunday, so I’m pretty sure my fitness wasn’t going to change much anyway. After last year’s flat in India, I was shooting for a little revenge. Last year I didn’t feel like I belonged. Though I’m fully aware that the race of my life wouldn’t be competitive here, I was determined to do my best ever.
Marines on the left, Navy in white, Army in light green and AF on the right.

My second morning there was also after another great night of sleep … around 12 hours. My legs and back were pretty stiff, so I needed to get out and about to limber up. My run was really uncomfortable, so I decided to hop on the bike to preview the course and loosen up some more. Despite riding a very comfortable 17.5 MPH, my hamstrings and back were still too tight. The course was constantly rolling hills in the woods around the lake, which made for a scenic getaway. Aside from my body, everything was working fine and in order, so I got cleaned up for the opening ceremonies, athlete dinner and social. We all wore our full service dress during the evening. I was proud to march in there as a member of Team USA. We weren’t just athletes wearing a military uniform, like several other countries. We were members of the US Military who were there to compete as athletes against 18 other countries. Regardless of each individual’s service in his/her military, it was truly an honor to be there.

My evening ended early as I headed back to get some rest before the big day. The masters men would start at 10 AM, the masters women at 10:01, the elite women at 10:08 and the elite men (and me) would start at 10:16. I had plenty of time, but didn’t want to take any chances. I was there to represent my country and the US Military, not to stay out late doing selfish things that would prevent me from being at my best.

* This just in via e-mail. Team Mate, Justine Whipple was the World University gold medalist. She’s a two-time collegiate national champion, two-time Armed Forces national champion, last year’s Military World Games silver medalist and reigning under 23 national champion (6th at worlds).

More to come in a day or two …

Ironman Coeur d'Alene: Retrobution

2008-06-23T22:32:00.000-07:00

If you read about my first Ironman (below), then you understand that I had a score to settle with the Ironman. Few seemed to believe that I could participate without racing. I love to race, but I don't love Ironman. It's haunted me for years. My plan was to set the governor on easy for the swim and bike, then let 'er loose for the run.

With the Armed Forces Championship and subsequent Military World Championship, I've spent my last five weeks on a road bike. My TT bike had a few adjustments while gone, so all I was able to do was do an easy ride to familiarize myself in the two days I had here at home after all that traveling. I was really worn out, but Ironman Coeur d'Alene was about finishing without an epic story of overcoming disaster after disaster. Racing ITU is about the swim and run, which is where my focus has been all year. Ironman is about going long, which is something I haven't had time to train my body to do.

I was aware going in that it was almost like doing an Ironman without training. I avoided thinking about the race or even prepping my gear until the day we headed to Coeur d'Alene. I was worn out from being away from home since May, so prepping for a race and being gone for another four days wasn't appealing to me. Why is it that a race that takes an entire day also has to take the two days before and the day after from check-in to awards? Amanda was on the ball and my laziness was probably aggravating, but she handled it like a champ. Honestly, if it weren't for her, then I would not have made it to the start line. She nudged me along, right up to the race start. She gets a gold star for making sure I had the opportunity to beat that old memory.

The cold water wasn't going to bother me. Compared to Armed Force's 52 degrees, this would be a lot better. I even opted to leave the aqua socks behind. I walked in, submerged myself and let water into the wet suit a couple times before the start. I was right on the line and planned to blast out of there to avoid being drowned in the masses. The start was smooth for me, but I had a rare breathing problem that I've only experienced one other time. In swimming, on a scale from good to bad, it's bad. I breathed on both sides, but felt like I was about to drown, which is pretty scarry. Knowing the majority of 2300 people are behind me and would swim right over me, didn't make it any easier. I tried to signal for help, but none was in sight, so I had to keep going. Switching to backstroke didn't seem to help. Maybe the anxiety caused a temporary conversion disorder. Though I was initially off the front, I was quickly swallowed by the field as I tried to settle down and get my breathing under control. It took a half lap before I started to settle down. At that point, I just found some feet and followed at a very easy pace for the remainder of the swim. My time was 1:04:27, which was good for 177th overall. I stuck to the plan, kept it easy and was glad to be on solid ground. I really don't like swimming. It's the only sport that if you stop in ... you'll die. I didn't do a warm-up swim due to being terribly undertrained and didn't think I could afford to waste any energy warming up. After that experience, I'll make sure to do a warm-up for every race in the future. That was scarry. Also, the swim may have been a little long.

T1 was somewhat amusing to me. As an ultra-competitive racer, I've wanted for years to have just one race where I could cruise along and enjoy it. That's what this race was for me. Since I was on the sharp end of the field, people were in a hurry. I actually had to tell my helper to slow down. I soaked in the atmosphere and watched others briefly before I finished up and got on my way. My time showed it too. It took me 6:29 to get through T1.

The bike was my biggest worry. It would be my longest ride since 1999 and literally more twice my weekly average. My legs are trained for about an hour in the saddle, while my system is only trained for about three hours of work. Today was going to be three to four times that, so I couldn't afford to get caught up in the highly charged atmosphere. People were cheering machines, but I resisted the urge to ride in the moment. My body was telling me I could go faster, but my mind said absolutely not! Trying to keep track of my fueling and making sure my average stayed under 20 MPH kept my mind busy when I wasn't chatting or joking with other riders. At mile 40, I was feeling a bit over my head. Despite the easy effort, I was spent by mile 75. I struggled to the finish of the ride. My time was 5:43:18, which is better than I expected. To my amusement, I actually ended up injuring my right wrist from shifting for nearly six hours. Since I haven't been on my TT bike for weeks and certainly don't have much practice shifting gears for more than an hour, my wrist swelled up and is very weak and sore. So, if you're like me and just don't get much time to ride, make sure you practice your shifting.

In T2, I was prepared to take whatever time I needed. My only goal was to shoot for a sub 3-hour run. I'm absolutely certain I can do it, especially now that I'm looking back on the race. I changed clothes, socks, watches, fueled up, went to the rest room and did a quick stretch. T2 was 6:00. Oddly enough, my cumulative time was 7:00:14. If I ran a sub 3, then I'd also have a sub 10:00:00 overall. That gave me a little extra motivation since a finish time hadn't even crossed my mind. The only time I thought about was the run.

So I go busting out of T2 and onto the run with the Garmin helpning me keep pace for a sub 3 (sub 6:52/mile). After busting out of the gates, I needed constant pace checks to keep my legs under control. The McCoy family, Bob and others were out there cheering like it was an Olympic sport and had a gigantic chalk sign for me that took the entire road! They had one for Amanda too. It took a couple miles to find my pace, but I was flat out exhausted. Seven hours of exercise was too much, but I really wanted to give it an honest effort. Somewhere around 5.5M, Tri-Fusion was cheering for me like I was winning this thing. I was still very focused at this point, so I don't remember who all was there and don't want to leave anyone out, so thanks to all of you. I remember Tiffany nearly bringing me to laughter and Jessi cheering like a champ. At 10K, the pace felt comfortable, but I couldn't shake the feeling that I'd love to lay down and go to sleep. It was really fun flying past all those other participants. It took me back to grade school when I simply had fun going fast.

Normally a hill like the one at the turn wouldn't bother me, but I was nearing 8 hours of racing and it was just too much. I slowed up to save my legs for the rest of the run, but it wasn't enough. Despite fueling so well, I just didn't have the range. My average pace was 6:40 at mile 8, so I decided to ease up and see if I'd recover by running 7:15 for a while. At mile 12, it was apparent that I was fighting a losing battle. I could have made mile 16 at 6:52 pace, but would be completely spent. The other option would be to slow to 7:30 and cruise on in for a 3:05 to 3:08 marathon. To do that, I would have had to be concerned with my overall time, which I wasn't. That had nothing to do with my goals, so I shut it down and walked a while as I tried to figure out what to do. A brisk walk would put me in around 12 hours, which got me thinking that I could cross the line with Amanda. I would be fine with that time, which would be almost 5 hours faster than my only other Ironman. Throwing around the numbers for a while, I figured it would be cool to make my goal to beat my PR by six hours. Unfortunately, I didn't decide that until the turn on lap 2, so I had to run sub 8:00/mile. It would have been a lot easier if I made that decision before I burned so much time walking. I measured the course at 26.36 miles, which is .14 longer than the standard 26.22 (26.21875 if you want to be more precise). Yes John, I ran the tangents.

In the end, I managed to get my adjusted goal of 10:51:16 for a 6-hour PR. I don't think Ironman keeps track of the biggest improvement, but I'm sure 6 hours is right in there. My marathon time was 3:51:02, which is 4:30:57 faster than my first Ironman marathon, more likely to be a record. My final resting place was 191st. That's a lot better than my 1646th place in my first try. I didn't leave with another story of stories. The Ironman beat me the first time. It's all tied up now. We'll see what happens next time. I hope it's not any time soon. Amanda set a 2 hour 38 minute PR, so we can both leave feeling good about it. I hope she hasn't signed me up for any more of these things. There's an outside chance that I'll be picked for the Air Force Team to race in Hawaii. If that's the case, then I won't have the luxury of going easy.

For now, I'm feeling good about my performance. Pulling up on the run before I annihilated myself was the smart thing to do. I'm still able to walk around and even keep my running streak alive at 1,636 days in a row. On some days, it's not the most healthful thing to do; however, it's the long-term change in lifestyle that makes it worth the trouble.

Ironman Canada 1999 vs. Ironman Coeur d'Alene 2008
Swim: 1:01:59 vs. 1:04:27
T1: 3:39 vs. 6:29
Bike: 7:01:12 vs. 5:43:18
T2: 22:13 vs. 6:00
Run: 8:21:59 vs. 3:51:02

Total: 16:50:51 vs. 10:51:16

Armed Forces Championship 2008

2008-06-20T09:05:00.000-07:00

Team Air Force posing on the beach for one of the sponsors. I'm on the left, McCoy with his fist in the air.

This was my goal race for the year. It’s tough to peak in May when living in this climate, especially this year. On the other hand, there’s too much on the line with this race. Twelve men and six women are selected from each branch of the US military. The top eight men and four women score for their team. We also have Team Canada racing this year. The Air Force is the defending champion for the second consecutive year. It’s my sixth time on the team and was glad to have my training partner, Mike McCoy, coming along with me from Fairchild. The race starts on the California coastline near Malibu.

We were essentially paid athletes for the week, flown to the race, put up in the beach hotel, given clothes and racing gear while we did whatever we needed to do to get ready for the race. I needed rest. It’s a major perk for me to be able to sleep as much as I’d like at night. Since I was in my taper, it made for a fun and relaxing time.

A new theme for this year is time conservation. In the past, I’d get to a race site hours before the race to make sure everything was perfect. This year I get to races at last minute and enjoy a lot more of my day at the expense of a small amount of time on the race course. Our race started at 10:08, so I stayed in bed until 9:30. Our racks were numbered and I was staying at the race site. When I got to the transition area, it was absolute chaos. We race the only amateur ITU race sanctioned by USAT, so we had to follow ITU rules. We had bins instead of a transition area. They made an error and put too many bikes per rack. Brake levers overlapped adjacent brake/shifter cables, handle bars ended up locked, pedals, shoes and derailleurs tangled with the same on the next bike. I couldn’t even reach my bin with bikes hanging over it. We had pandemonium! ITU officials gave in to reason and provided another rack.

Around 70 men start packed shoulder to shoulder. We needed a lot more room in the water.

I went down to the water, lined up and waited to start. I lined up at the back and on the right side. It was a beach start against a very exclusive field. I’m normally a mid pack swimmer there and wanted to avoid the beating I received last year. Once the gun went off, I went over the start line and made my way to the far right. I plunged into the 52 to 53 degree water (not sure which ended up being official) and started swimming untouched. It freezes the hands, face and feet, but strangely, I was handling it very well. It helped that I was alone. My first thought was actually “I wish I had trained harder.” I quickly countered with “I did train harder.” I wish it helped more. The best I could manage was 21st place male with a time of 22:39.

Everyone had a beet red face and hands from the frigid water. You can see the line where the wet suit no longer covered the skin.

It’s hard to tell if it was long or short. It didn’t matter to me. I was just glad to hear the announcer call out “Mike McCoy from Fairchild AFB.” I knew he was right in front or just behind me. It turns out he was just behind. It’s a good thing too. My timing chip came off with my wet suit and I had to fish it out. T1 was 1:01, which moved me up one spot to 20th. Mike was :15 back, so I was going to wait for him. Surrounded by marines, I started barking orders to start organizing, but also that we were going to wait for McCoy. Once together, we did our best to reel people in and make them work in our pack. It was a bit of a mess having a bunch of amateur racers with a few pros trying to race draft legal. We got it done though and I was able to move up to 14th place after the bike leg of 57:53. I had a terrible T2 also. My breaks wouldn’t slide over the new rack they put out for us, so a few attempts later, I was onto the run. My split was :30, moving me into 13th place.

Three AF and three Marines trying to work together. I'm on the left with McCoy in the center. Our pack just picked up a faster swimming AF Team mate who held on for a half lap of the four lap course.

It was really windy and hot on the two loop 5K. I managed to reel one guy (David Steele) in before we completed a short dog leg. On the way back and onto the long dog leg, Steele picked up a really nice draft behind me. The wind was really tough to battle. He drafted like a champ, but I couldn’t afford to slow up enough to let him pull, even if he wanted to. I needed to be 6th. I don’t know how many times he clipped my heel, but apologized numerous times before finally telling me he’d buy me a beer. I told him that I didn’t mind and that it was just a race that I felt lucky to be a part of. OK, so I was doing a lot of gasping for air in the process, but that’s what I told him. I was pleased with myself for being a great sport while helping a Marine do better against my AF team mates. Before the second 1.5M stretch of brutal head wind, I dropped him and passed my final victims to secure the 6th place spot. I had fifth in my sights, lying to myself by saying that I could catch him from :25 back, which only made me work harder for the same place. My run time was 35:04. Like it seems every year, I had the fifth fastest run. My finish time was 1:57:11.
I never push harder than I do at this race. After a few years of finish line face plants, the docs let me know before I start that they'll be there to catch me at the finish. As you can see, there's nothing left and I'm going down, but they were ready to drag me away with my toes in the sand.

The end result assured me a spot on Team USA and an all expense paid trip to Estonia. McCoy finished 13th overall in 2:00:26, but earned a spot on the Masters Team USA. He’s one fast dude. AF men finished 2nd to Navy, lead by Olympic Trials 6th place finisher Tim O’Donnell. The AF women finished third after dominating the women’s division for years. Our top female, Jolene Wilkenson, was in an accident the week before the race and won’t be able to train/race for two months. She was 2nd last year to Justine Whipple who took sixth in under 23 worlds in Vancouver and took silver at last year’s Military Worlds.

This is my traditional pose. This time with the Red Bull arch making a nice background. I was given more Red Bull than I could drink in three weeks, but I defied the odds and finished up with a day to spare!

This will be my 4th time on Team USA. If getting to wear our national colors and have a chance to compete against top world competition, several of which have been in the Olympics, I get to miss another two weeks of work on top of the one I was already given. Of 2.69 million troops, many train hard and race hard for this opportunity. Unlike other Team USA teams and programs, we’re completely taken care of. We still get paid our wages without having to use our leave. We don’t have to buy our uniforms or equipment, pay for our rooms, airfare or food. In fact, they actually pay us more while providing us a great support staff. Between that and the Air Force Team, I get far more than I deserve. It’s a rare opportunity, so I share the details in order to better understand the experience, since it’s far more than just another race.

Ironman Canada: The Run (Part 4)

2008-06-13T05:22:00.000-07:00

Despite all that had gone awry in my day and the days before, I viewed the run as a clean slate. My 9:30 was out of the question, but Hawaii was not ... at least not yet. I zipped into transition with the hope of a fast T2 to get me on the road right away. Seconds turned to minutes as volunteers failed to return with my T2 bag. The search team grew, but my bag simply wasn't found. There was little I could do that they weren't, so I decided to get a quick massage. Around 20 minutes into T2, I decided that I had to get going, even if that meant running without shoes. I had run a marathon without shoes once due to shoe problems, but that's another story. Just as I was getting up to go, a volunteer ran over to me with my transition bag. Apparently my number was called in by the ambulance driver during my final rest in the ditch at Yellow Lake during the bike leg. At that time, my bag was removed before they confirmed that I was out of the race.

With my gear in hand and even more time lost, I finally finished T2 in 22:13! I was all fired up at the start of the run and blasted onto the run course like I was doing an open half marathon. That pent up emotion was put in check about a quarter mile in. That big swollen knot on my neck was still causing me breathing problems. After nearly passing out, I slowed to a walk. This was the point when I finally knew Hawaii was not in the cards. The whole day began to sink in as I began a nearly 26-mile walk of shame. Just as I began walking, I heard a couple ladies say "Way to go! You're looking good! You're almost there!" Of all the people in the race, this line wasn't for me. I had trained full time for months and was visibly in great shape. It was obvious that I was bloodied up and hurting. On top of that, I was walking at about 400m into the run. I was not looking good. I wasn't doing well and was anything but almost done. It was the breaking point for me. I wanted to punch them, but kept walking and walking and walking.

Although this was anything but the race I kept telling myself that I was going to have, I never let it stop me. The first goal, and most important, in any race is to finish. That was the least I could do. I developed a strong desire to feel the weight of that giant maple leaf finisher medal around my neck when I crossed the line. One curious thing about me is that I'm a notoriously slow walker. I just can't step it out. As I walked through my first full mile, which was 2, I did the math and found that I was walking too slowly to finish before midnight. I needed to go about 20 minutes/mile, so I picked it up. It was a lot easier than running, but forced me to reflect on my experience. It was anything but fun, but gave me a chance to forge the type of athlete I'd be in the future. I gave myself little goals to achieve before quitting, but each achievement had to be satisfied with another.

The hours went by a little more slowly than the miles did, but I was making progress. I made it to the turn and found that the chicken broth was really good and warmed me up. I had nothing in special needs there, much like the bike. I didn't expect to be out there that long. It was getting darker and colder and if you know me, cold is something I don't do well. Still, I pressed on reminding myself of how great it would feel to have that heavy medal around my neck at the finish. After it got dark, I became one of those people who trudged along with the glow stick. I was officially one of them. It's a lasting immage of Ironman, but one I didn't want to be a part of. With the darkness came more cold. I was shivering as I made my way. Compassionate volunteers and spectators offered me shirts, coats, pants and gloves. I wouldn't have any of it though. I have honor and don't want any part of breaking the rules. I push the limits of rules, but that's as far as I go. Outside assistance isn't allowed. After all I've been through, being DQed or given a time penalty was too much.

As I finally made my way back into town, I was the last person on the road that had a chance of making it before midnight. A group of strangers gathered around me to encourage me along. Although I had hours of being alone, I wanted to be left alone. I never saw myself as that guy who needed people to pull me in. I really didn't need it that day either, but it's the situation I was in. If they only knew the problems that would cost me more than 7 hours. Quitting or failing was not an option. Like my situation with the ambulance, this race would not take me alive. As long as I was alive, I'd finish. With two miles to go, a stranger lied to me and told me I had less time than I had on my watch and that I needed to get going. I took a moment to think about it and came to one conclusion. What if he was right? I didn't want to round that final corner and head to the finish line thinking I had conquered the ultimate bad day, only to find that somehow I was off by a few minutes and didn't make it after all. Pushing through all of that only to be denied my medal would feel like I had been cheated out of my finish and robbed of my efforts.

With about a mile to go, I ran for the first time in over 8 hours. I was cruising along at about 5:50 pace for the final mile. I blasted past six people in the process to keep from finishing last. I crossed the line in 16 hours 50 minutes and 51 seconds. My overall finish place was 1,646th. The real kicker was my marathon, which took 8 hours, 21 minutes and 59 seconds. It's one of the slowest marathons in Ironman history. That wasn't my goal, but it kept me from failing at my number one goal: finishing. It took all day, but nothing I encountered was able to keep me from being an Ironman.

After crossing the line, I was barely able to breathe. Volunteers came up to tell me that they didn't have any finishers towels or medals because they had more finishers than expected. Despite gasping for air, I couldn't help but to think of my ironic twist of fate. They tried to take me from the line with a gurney, but I was going to walk to the med tent. They wanted to stick me with an IV to hydrate me, but I told them I had been going too slow and drank too much to be dehydrated. My problem was breathing, not drinking. As I laid there under that sun blanket, I looked around the room at all the others. It seemed that I was the only one without an IV. That had to be my victory.

The next day, I made my way back to the center to get my medal and finishers certificate they promised me. When I finally got to the counter, I gave the lady my name and she said she couldn't find my time and asked me what it was. I replied quietly "16:50." She wasn't able to hear me, so she asked me again. I said "please don't make me say it any louder." I was really embarassed. That would be a fair 5K time, but for an Ironman, it was not. I told her again and she looked up and down and didn't see my time anywhere. She told me I didn't make it before midnight and wasn't an official finisher. Wrong! I had gone through hell and was going to get my medal. I wanted the race director or someone else to help me out in my emotional state. I was told that the race director was helping the Hawaii qualifiers and would be busy for quite a while. I know I lost my cool a bit, but for all I went through, I'm OK with it. I said I was happy for the Hawaii qualifiers, but before they get seconds, I want what I earned.

It wasn't necessary, but I explained my bad day and how hard I fought just to finish and wasn't leaving without my medal. Eventually she relented and got the race director for me. He had someone get in the data base and found that several of the final finishers had omitted run and finish times. They found mine, verified that I did make it before midnight, but still didn't have medals. Long story short, I left without my medal. They did mail it to me and I put it on and wore it around like a proud senior citicizen does at work on the Monday after a weekend race.

So that's my first and last Ironman. A couple hours to get my packet, two nights of no sleep, no swim cap nearly causing me to miss the start, nearly being drown, a panic attack, having the snot beat out of me in the swim, my T1 gear being scattered, getting sick on Pepsi, crashing and being rubbed raw and having my neck and back out of allignment, getting stung on the neck, an allergic reaction making it difficult to breathe for the rest of the day, having to lay in the ditch seven times to catch my breath, drenching my eyes with my sweat band, spraying my eyes out with Gatorade, having paramedics try to pull me from the course, having my number called in as a DNF, a 22:13 T2 while they found my gear before I headed out for a barefooted marathon, running a quarter mile before I nearly passed out, walking the marathon in 8:21:59 while nearly going hypothermic and finishing 6th from last and barely before midnight unable to breathe or feel the weight of that medal around my neck, only to be told the next day that I didn't actually finish. Needless to say, I haven't attempted another one ... yet.

Thanks for reading my story. Stories aren't complete without a comment, so please leave one before you go.

Ironman Canada: The Bike (Part 3)

2008-06-04T11:08:00.000-07:00

On firm ground, I made my way to my bike. Lucky for me, someone either tried to head out on my bike or use my gear. What I found was my things were not how I left them, which is in my obsessive order. They were sorted through and tossed on the ground. My transition was 3:29. My best guess is that it cost me about 1:30. It wasn't a big deal, but things weren't going my way and I was on a tight budget with my minutes and seconds.

Heading out on the bike, I felt pretty strong considering the long swim and my ordeal. With over 200 bikers in front of me, I had plenty of riders to pass and did just that. I needed to ride around 5:15 to 5:20. That would be tough, but something I knew I could do. As I rode, I kept doing time checks, calculating my needed pace with my 9:30 goal. Riding with only one water bottle, my plan was to alternate Gatorade and water every stop. As I rode into an early station, I asked for Gatorade, grabbed my bottle, secured it and accelerated away. A short while later, I pulled it from the cage at an opportune time and guzzled most of it down before I realized it was Pepsi! Some like it, but it made me terribly nauseated in previous exercise sessions. Canada was no different.

A few minutes later and I felt that nauseating pain in my gut. Getting to Hawaii wasn't going to be easy and I couldn't afford to go without fluids (forcing the fluids out ... if you know what I mean) until the next stop, so I pressed on. The race wasn't meant to be a pleasure cruise, so I told myself that this is the way it's supposed to be. I decided it would be best to ask for water only from that point and rely on my foods to fuel me. I didn't want them to confuse the beverages again.

As I continued to power my way past those in front of me, I went through somewhat of a residential area. The details aren't terribly clear since I wasn't familiar with the area, and still am not, but more bad luck came my way. Some lady out riding her bike turned onto the road we were racing down. She was clearly unaware of what was going on and simply drifted to the right to make a turn. I was tucked and aero after a short descent, so I didn't have enough time to react. She drifted across my path and clipped my front wheel with her rear wheel. I went down hard and skidded to a stop. Skin makes for a great breaking surface.

I didn't have time to check myself out or have a conversation with the appologetic lady. I hopped back on my bike and took off. While riding I was able to determine that I was rubbed terribly raw on my left hip. My left shoulder, arm, lats, quad and knee were covered in dirty road rash streaked with my blood. Miles later, my neck and back were aching from being bumped out of allignment. It was clear that I was going to have to earn this finish the hard way. My 9:30 looked harder and harder with every passing event, but I wouldn't allow myself to give up on my goal.

Richter Pass was tough, but I worked my way up it. I was able to stand and climb. I see pain as something separate from my effort, so I endured both just the same. The trip down the back side of the mountain proved to be more of a problem than going up. I had to stand to stretch out my back and neck. As I stood, riders were tucked and aero and flying past me. It was hard to give that time back, but it was necessary to make it through the race.

Once at the bottom, I started getting some more time back, but I was terribly uncomfortable. I was nauseated, banged up and out of allignment. I'm not sure it was the best decision, but I didn't have anything in the special needs section. It was all about time and I didn't think there was anything that I really needed at halfway. As I blazed through special needs I was able to get an idea of how many riders were catchable on the out and back. It didn't prove to be too useful other than motivating me to keep the pressure up.

Just past special needs on the way back I encountered my biggest problem of the ride. I saw a bug swirl around in a clockwise circle as we colided. It smacked me on the left carotid. I'm not sure if it stung me, bit me or if it was the impact, but it really stung. I continued to press on as I started to get somewhat breathless and dizzy. It got so bad that I eventually had to get off the bike and catch my breath. It took nearly passing out to get to that point.

My stop was at an aid station where I laid in the ditch face down. My forehead pressed against the sweat band in my helmet, drenching my eyes in my own sweat. As my eyes burned I reached for my bike and fumbled around for my water bottle. When I found it I rinsed out my eyes, not with water, but Gatorade. They gave me Gatorade instead of water! A nice volunteer got me a bottle of water and helped me get cleaned up as I forced my eyes open. My back was seizing up, so I actually got a massage right there to help loosen it up.

After that pit stop, I got back on and started making my way toward Yellow Lake. My neck had swollen up with a golf ball sized lump, making my breathing problems worse. It was bad enough that I had to stop six more times to catch my breath. I was losing time rapidly, but it was all I could do. The top of Yellow Lake was celebrated with another stop to catch my breath in the ditch. Traffic was one lane only and not moving.

As I laid there, I heard a vehicle come up the road and stop. That was odd given the traffic and race. I heard a couple doors open and close, then a couple more doors open. Something hit the ground and was being rolled toward me. I poked my head up out of the ditch like a gopher to see what was going on. It was an ambulance and the two paramedics were coming at me with a gurney. Nope! I wasn't going to let it end this way. Not after what I'd gone through and when I had a goal to keep me going. I jumped up, grabbed my bike and took off. As I ran away, I said "you won't take me alive!" The driver said "looks like we cured another one."

Going down the other side of the pass was painfull, but I was able to do a lot of coasting. My last few miles into Penticton were so unpleasant that I thought running would be better. This day was getting longer and longer, but I kept telling myself that I had to keep pressing to get that 9:30 and make my way to Hawaii. Sure, I was in denial, but it kept me going. In the end, my ride time was 7:01:12. That was good for 1,396th on that leg. I had lost a lot of places and a ton of time. I wasn't giving up though. I came blasting into T2, just like I would have if nothing had gone awry at all that day.

The worst of my pain was over, but my problems would continue and the day would grow longer.

Cd'A Half: When the Faster Guy takes 2nd

2008-05-26T18:27:00.000-07:00

On 31 May, I have my A race for the year. I've been so busy with work, that it's been very difficult to peak for an early season race. Normally I have trouble peaking before August. It's a good thing I've had so many years of experimentation to determine how I best adapt to training and peaking. So, although some may consider racing a half marathon a week before my A race a bad idea, years of experience leads me to believe otherwise. At least it does for me. Now that it's out of the way, I have an easy week of recovery without work.

As for the race, I had a nice little surprise on my last day of work. Friday night, just before I headed out to my post, I checked the weekend roster, just for curiosity sake. Saturday and Sunday night were my nights off. It's never a good idea to assume I have my days off. Sometimes they don't tell us when we are given extra shifts. This was one of those times. I was scheduled for both days. Considering my reservations at the Coeur d'Alene Resort, dinner plans with Amanda and a preview of the Ironman bike course, there's no way I could still do any of this if I worked Saturday. I try to be a good sport when I have to work long hours or extra days, so they did me a favor and gave me Saturday night off. Sunday was going to be a long day, but I can suffer through it without a race to follow.

After sleeping until 2 PM, I was up early to get on our way. We stopped in Spokane for a small family get together, then headed to get our race packets, have dinner and enjoy a relaxing evening. In fact, the only workout I did that day was a 2-mile run. That's the least I've worked out this year. The short workout was more about spending some quality time relaxing than preparing for a race. My legs were pretty tired from a couple key workouts, but I still considered shooting for a sub 1:15:00. I know I'm capable of it, but the effort rarely fits into my plan. Going in tired makes it a tough goal to achieve. With over 1,000 people racing the half, there was certain to be plenty of competition for me.

Race morning came too quickly, but I stayed in bed until shortly before we had to leave. Amanda was doing the full, so I wasn't going to miss my start a half hour later. It was fun to be able to take care of her right up to the start and watch her on the very spectator friendly first mile, seeing her three times. I wasn't fired up, so I wasn't getting much done. When I arrived at the porta potty line, they called out "five minutes to the start." Well, considering my definite need to get the lead out, if you know what I mean; this, on a scale of good to bad, was bad. Leaving the line was tough, but I did and worked my way right to the starting line.

After a good clean start, I settled into my pace, which had me running in 4th. Like in Vegas, where I was certain to go sub 1:15:00 if I didn't get sent onto the marathon course, I locked onto a 5:43 GPS pace. The race was in the top 2 with a good gap to third and a gap to me in 4th. We quickly separated from the field. My GI issues were bothering me a bit, but I resisted every urge to stop at a porta potty. Third place came back to me around four to five miles, but I had no ilusions of moving up past that. I was slowing a touch from the hills, turns and wind, but doing pretty well with an average pace that would stay below 5:47 for the entire race. At the turn, I was almost 1:30 out of the lead. In my mind, that's to say winning is out of the question. Mile markers were off by about a tenth, which came in the first mile, then stayed constant. The 10K point was a lot closer to 6.7 miles, so the splits are mostly useful in determining gaps and place.

On the way back, I did the only thing I could do, which was to keep the pace up and skip every porta potty. It was a bit tough, but I made it to ten before I started to have trouble holding it in. If you've ever encountered that, you know just how fun it can be. On the other hand, 2nd place was catching first and I was catching 2nd. The gap was about :15 and I was another :30 behind. I really didn't think I'd be able to catch them, but my goal was about time, not place. On the other hand, reeling them in encouraged me to keep pushing. Running 5:43 really isn't that hard for me, but as a training race with GI problems, it isn't easy either. As we came into the finish area, I was about :20 back of the lead as 2nd place just about took over 1st. The leader hit the wall and faded badly, losing a few minutes in a mile to finish 4th! Second place was running strong, but Brian Hadley was out there riding along. I was content to finish second, but he rode up along side me and said "you've got this." I'm not sure what made him so confident. He said it in a calm and quiet voice like it was a matter of fact. On the other hand, I had been running at 5:32 pace for a couple miles and wasn't feeling as good as he was. He said that with about .4 miles and :10 to the leader. Not wanting to look weak for something that was apparently such a given, at least to him, I cranked it up to 5:08 pace for the final quarter and actually won by :04. Thanks Brian!

My time was 1:15:54, but the course was .1M long. That would have put me at 1:15:19 (5:44.74/mile). That's :10 shy of my PR, but still well short of what I'm capable of. The odd thing about this race was that I won when I wasn't the fastest guy. Evan Sims would have beat me soundly, but he was too aggressive in the start. His first mile put a gap of about :20 on the field. He extended it to around 1:30 before his efforts started catching up to him. I stick to what I know I can do, despite what the rest of the world does and how easy it feels. The race almost always sorts itself out. Racing smarter and harder is the only way to go. Next time we race, I expect he'll prove that I'm right about him being faster. In addition to Sims, Michael Bresson was there running with his wife. He would have beat me easily if he wanted to. On a side note, it was great to see Jay and Michelle. They're about as nice as people get. Michelle helped me out by holding my things for me as I made my emergency trip to the porta potty. Amanda finished a short while later and I got to see her come into the finish area and then around the mile loop. Now it's time to rest up and get ready for the big one. No pressure.