Training Update

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

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

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!

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?

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

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

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.