The Sidelines at IM Arizona

I've been meaning to write a long and meaningful post about why I decided not to race Ironman Arizona this year, but my blog habits got the better of me. (Not to be confused with the blog hobbits, who have asked me to get to writing.) What I mean is that I ran out of time to post my thoughts.

Now I'm feeling a sense of semi-urgency to announce that I will not be racing this year's IM Arizona... on Sunday. I chose to do one this spring, and that race will be IM Coeur d'Alene. I may someday get around to sharing the lengthy reason why not, but for now suffice it to say that I'm happily on the sidelines of this event.

I'll be here cheering for my friends (James and Terra, amongst many others), and I'll be doing some work for the event (commentating and hosting sponsors).

I appreciate all the well-wishing; I love the good luck notes; and I am sorry to not be out there battling it out with the rest of you to another sub-seventeen finish.

Good luck to all of you, and thanks for the support!

Lonestar Sprint Triathlon

In some ways, I felt like I was going back in time about fifteen or sixteen years. I was traveling across the large state of Texas, en route to a sprint triathlon; my bike was on the roof, collecting bugs; and I was enjoying the company of a good friend, as we admired the wildflowers on the sides of the highway. It was just awesome.

Almost a week ago (I'm slow to update, as usual), Amanda and I headed down to Galveston Island for the Lonestar Tri. I was planning to do the sprint on Saturday, and Amanda was set for the Quarter on Sunday (1/4 of an Iroman). We left the dogs with Uncle Fred, so it was just the two of us, our bikes, and a lot of gear... and food.

What it reminded me of was my first full season of racing triathlons back in 1993. I had just discovered the sport; I had just met a bunch of great folks; and I was driving all over the place to do every race I could fit in my schedule: Athens, Corpus Christi, Del Rio, Jefferson, Grand Prairie and Canyon Lake. We went everywhere.

On Saturday morning, when I strolled out of my hotel room and down into transition to pick up my packet, a flood of memories overtook me. I was seeing some of the same faces from way back in the early nineties: Dave Sing, Carl Stewart. I was anticipating a brand new event. I was unsure of how I would feel racing. Somehow the newness of the venue, coupled with the sameness in my mind's eye made me feel strangely nervous, excited, comfortable, and relaxed. I loved it.

Amanda showed up to see me off in the swim. It was somewhere between 500 and 600 meters (or was it yards). I do not know, and it does not matter. I was in the second wave (how long has it been since the last time I did not get the first wave!?!), and I was ready to swim flat out for the duration. It was truly a refreshing break from the strategy-laden, pace-oriented swim of an Ironman. I swam until I blew up. Then I just swam a few more meters and got out. How cool.

Next up was a FAST transition. Fortunately, I got my helmet positioned and strapped in no time. My flying mount was flawless, and I was on the way.

Just as I was starting to get a bit uncomfortable with the intensity of the bike ride, I realized I was at the turnaround. Whoa. The 12.5 mile bike ride was over before I knew it.

Coming into T2, I was so excited for the run. Of all three sports, my run training has been the best. Not unlike that first season, when my run was my only fighting chance, I was about to make my move.

I slipped into my shoes without socks. This is something I have gone away from as an Ironman and 70.3 athlete. It just seems so fun to be carefree and fast and sock-less. I was off to run a 5k. I figured that was not the time to worry about blowing up. Again, how bad would it be if I blew up for the second half. I could always make 1.5 miles.

The pain I felt for that 55 minutes (plus or minus) was awesome. No matter how much my legs or lungs or arms hurt, I was almost done. I felt I was almost done when the gun went off!

After the race I stood at the finish line for probably 45 minutes. I shook hands of random finishers; I talked splits and data; I admired those who won their sprint finishes; and I reveled in the return to my roots.

I reflected on how far I have come in the sport. After racing my first triathlon on a mountain bike, wearing soccer shorts, and struggling to finish the sprint, I have made my way back to my roots. Sure, I've won a few races between then and now, but in the end, I'm still right where I started: having fun sharing a great sport with great people.

I am grateful to have shared in many others' experience at their first triathlon. Thank you for sharing it with me, and I urge you to enjoy the journey the sport will present to you. I remember vividly (now even more so) how much that first race impacted my life. Many moons ago I got hooked, and I am as hooked now as I was then!

Prickly Pear Trail Race

The soon-to-be world famous Prickly Pear Trail Race took place down in San Antonio today. It's not quite a world class event yet, but the post-race food might have you believing otherwise. Let's just say that the beer was flowing, the fajitas were delicious, and the company was great. Sometimes I forget how much fun these Texas grass roots races can be!

Amanda, Fred (of Casa Fred), and I made an early departure for SA this morning, as we wanted to get to the McAllister State Park bright and early. We had chosen to race the ten-miler, and we needed to sign up on-site, and some of us (not Fred) needed to do a nice long warm up.

While Amanda and I were jogging around, testing out the trail, and loosening up our tired muscles, Fred was doing his version of a warm up, which consisted of sitting in the car with the heat running. To each his own, to each his own.

After scouting out the terrain, Amanda and I came to the conclusion that the race course called for a solid set of training shoes, as opposed to racing flats. Each of us was well prepared, and we had both types of shoes with us. I was really looking forward to racing in my brand new Saucony Type A2, as I have been absolutely loving them in my track workouts lately. Alas, it was not to be; this race was rocky and rough... at times. There were plenty of smooth surfaces, but the mixture of roots, rocks, twists, turns, mini-cliffs and hills did not scream out for a lightweight racing shoe.

We donned the heavier trainers and hit the start line.

There were probably 300 or so folks in the ten miler, and there was a 50k running concurrently (with 7:00AM star time, as opposed to ours of 8:30AM). Amanda and I found it odd that there was a large gap between the front line of runners and the actual start line. In triathlons we are used to doing, there is no gap between the start line and the people; in fact, there are usually people floating across the start line prematurely.

We took advantage of the gap, and lined up front and center. As soon as the started said "GO" I was off like a race horse. I had come up with a couple of possible race strategies during my warm up, but for some reason, my mind went blank when I heard him say "GO!"

I think Amanda tried to throw an elbow, and I am pretty sure she was gunning for the title of "first through 50 meters," but I managed to open up a small gap. I did hear some heavy breathing and footsteps right behind me for a few hundred meters, but for the most part, I was pulling away. Too fast, I might add.

The first mile was on an asphalt path that led us to the real trail. That first mile had one short uphill and one short down hill. The turns were wide open, and the footing was good. Either way, I was a bit surprised to hear my Garmin beep at the mile mark: 4:55. I've gone out too hot!

My on-the-fly strategy switching plan was to keep on running, not to look at the Garmin ever again, and to run until I blew up. Or until I hit some really rough trail. I held to the plan pretty well from there. I heard a spectator yelling for another runner not too much after I had gone by my second Garmin beep. Not knowing what my pace was, and feeling pretty spry, I kept on going. I figured I had better drop my pursuer, to prepare for the blow up that was imminent.

Somewhere between beep one and beep two, I found myself overtaking the lead cyclist. One of my favorite things about leading a race is that lead cyclist escorting me. I feel very driven to catch up to him or her. Well, in this case I actually had to call "on your right" to this guy. Poor fella was in a bit over his head with the rough terrain, and his mountain bike skills left a tad to be desired. I passed him, he said "go that way!", and was back to racing hard! (Amanda later overtook him as well, as he was lying on the side of the trail having crashed out.)

A few meters past the third beep, I quickly calculated that I had about seven more beeps to go. I was nowhere near finished, and I seemed to be slowing. I could no longer hear anyone behind me, and I could no longer hear anyone cheering for anyone behind me. I figured I'd better keep pressing, just in case.

Four beeps came, five beeps came, and suddenly the trail got a lot rougher. There were more tight switchbacks, more whoopty-doos, and more rocks and roots and ruts. And I was running WAY slower now. I had gone out too hot.

I was enjoying the race, because I have got some pretty rubber ankles, so I tend not to worry about the rugged terrain. I briefly thought of Amanda, who was definitely hoping for some fire roads instead of singletrack trail. She's a bit too cautious for this type of running. I had, however, gone out a bit hot, and I was now holding on.

Beeps six and seven went by, and I caught a bit of second wind. I had no idea of my pace, which turned out to be a good thing. I kept the pressure on, but the combination of terrain and heavier and heavier legs did not allow for the speedy paces I was holding in the first half. I sure did blow my sound pacing strategy! And I was loving it.

Finally I heard beeps eight and nine. I knew this section of trail from my warm up, and I knew some fajitas were awaiting me. I picked it up to finish strong, and to win my first running race since moving to Boulder. Those darn Boulder area runners would have really made me pay for going out too hot.

I just squeezed under the hour mark, a solid time for sure, but well off my early race pace. Duh. I looked through the Garmin splits, and noticed that my 3mile split was right at 15:30 (a speedy 5:10ave). The five miles went by under 27:20, so I was still in below 5:30 miles by that point. But the average sank from mile six to the end. I ended with a 5:59 average, and only 1:25 ahead of second place.

I felt really good about starting the race season out with a win. I had not won a race in several months, so it was very nice to be in that position again. My high lasted for about One Minute Twenty Five Seconds, when that second place runner came across the line. She looked really fresh. Did I look that fresh. Wait, did I say "she?" Yes, I won the race, and a stud of a local woman got second. I mean no disrespect to her, as she was clearly a great runner; I am just not used to seeing a woman get second overall. Way to go for her!

Truthfully, I was actually still very happy with the race. My high was not affected by who got second. A victory is a victory; competition is competition; and she gave one heck of a fight!

Sponorship: A Right or a Privelege ?

I've been in this sport for sixteen years now, and I have gained experience at just about every level: from a novice struggling to finish my first sprint, to a veteran Ironman competitor pushing myself to finish at the top of an international pro field. I love the sport, and I love examining its ins and outs, from training to racing to living the triathlon lifestyle. From that examination come these thoughts on sponsorship.

While poking around on the internet Friday afternoon, I stumbled upon a few blogs (and a few blogger comments) which started me thinking about sponsorship in the world of triathlon. It's not only the blog posts that got me thinking. Hearing some of my fellow pro triathletes' opinions has made me wonder about the trends of our sport; and talking to various age group athletes, has presented me with similar questions.

What I continue to ask myself is this: why do so many athletes consider it their right to be sponsored? Why do they not realize that the support of a sponsor is a hard earned privilege?

First I thought it would be helpful to define sponsorship. Primarily, a sponsor is someone who assumes responsibility for another person, or who vouches for that person. Or to expand on that, it is someone who takes care of another. Be it in a financial, emotional, or physical manner, a sponsor takes responsibility for someone else.

In triathlon, as in other sports, sponsors take care of athletes by providing them money, equipment, and general support in his or her endeavors. Sponsors do this so that the athlete can perform better, so he or she can achieve certain goals, so he or she can make a living, and so the sponsor can share in the responsibility of the athlete's struggles and accomplishments. In short, they do so because they care about the athletes.

They do not do this because they have to do so.

My recent observations have told me that far too many triathletes assume that they deserve sponsorship for one or more of the following reasons:
a) They are (or think they are) really fast at swimming, biking, and running;
b) They are the most "loyal" customer of a particular company;
c) They just want to get free stuff;
d) They see that others have sponsors, so they assume that they, too, should have sponsors, and
e) They need sponsorship to feed their egos, because then they will be "sponsored athletes," like Tiger Woods.

At this point, I am afraid I'm going to have to call bullshit.

I find it absolutely appalling when I read about a disgruntled athlete who choses to boycott or discontinue use of a product merely because the company who produces it decides not to sponsor that particular athlete. If the basis of the sponsorship request was that the athlete believes in and uses the product, why does that change if the company chooses not to invest in the athlete? In other words, if you were going to wear that race outfit when you thought it was going to be free, why wouldn't you use it once you know you have to pay for it?!!

Additionally, I periodically hear an athlete talking badly about a company or a product: "So-and-so did not get back to me promptly when I asked them to sponsor me," or "this-and-that is an inferior company because they chose not to spend money on me." (Yes, it does cost a sponsor money even if it's purely a product-only deal.) If the athlete is talking smack about a company just because it has chosen not to sponsor him or her, it is pretty clear the sponsor made the right decision: nobody wants to be associated with a smack-talking whiner!

In contrast to the above reasons for seeking sponsorship, here are some pretty simple questions to ask prior to making that sponsorship inquiry:
a) Do I believe in the product?
b) Can I make the company more successful, or can I help it improve?
c) Will I make a good representative of the company?
d) Am I capable of clearly communicating the company's message to its customers or clients?
e) Do I want sponsorship, or do I need sponsorship?

In the end, we could not have professional triathletes without the generous support of our sponsors. Rather than be bitter, disgruntled or ungrateful, we should be appreciative that there are kind-hearted, giving businessmen and (and women) who chose to associate their companies with us as athletes. As an extension or a representation of the sponsors' companies, we athletes should stand up, be thankful, and take nothing for granted.

Sponsorship is NOT a right; it is most certainly a privilege... and one to which not everyone is entitled. And that's OK, too.

Getting There

Today was absolutely gorgeous here in Austin.  The high was above 80 degrees.  I'm not sure how much above, but does it really matter?  If it's 80-anything in February, it's a gorgeous day.  

Amanda and I had a really nice run this morning.  One of the blessings of having gotten so sick is that, while I am getting back in the groove of things, I have been able to join Amanda with her training.  Today she was doing her first long run back after her bout with the flu, so she's a few days ahead of me with the recovery.  Lucky her!   

Anyway, I opted to join Amanda for a twenty-minute tempo block on the track midway through her run.  Terra joined in, as she had some pace work to do as well.  I love acting as Amanda's rabbit, because it inspires and impresses me how well she can push herself when she's got that carrot out front.  It turns out her tempo and track paces are just right for me to run without taxing myself too terribly much.  I am hoping to keep doing this with her fairly regularly even once I'm back to full training.  It's satisfying for me to help Amanda, and it's great for her to have the motivation to move a bit more quickly.  It's not going to be long, though, before her fitness is at the point where it will be taxing for me to serve as her rabbit!  She's getting stronger and stronger.

After the run we returned to the track to keep Terra honest on her second tempo block.  She did amazingly well, and her times indicate to me that her fitness is right on track to have a great IM over in Tempe in seven weeks.  She's just got to carry some of that hard work out onto the race course, and she's going to surprise a few of her competitors.

The rest of the day was pretty mellow.  We had a great swim at Stacy pool; we stopped by Jack's shop; and we made it over to the World's Greatest Whole Foods to pick up some groceries.  We love that place, and sure wish our Boulder store would upgrade to follow suit.

On another note, I've finally committed to "un-commit" to doing California 70.3.  I have done this  race five year's in a row, and it's become a favorite stop of mine on the early-season race calendar.  I really enjoy the venue, and it's become a great way to assess my strengths and weaknesses.  However, having lost two consecutive weeks in my training, and without even being back to full-speed yet, I just don't think I could give an honest race effort in just a few weeks.  My new plan is to build back up next week, then to implement a nice little base-building block before we leave Austin.  (Fred permitting, we might be in Austin until the end of March; we're loving it her!)   

The first triathlon of the year will now be St. Croix 70.3.  We have a good friend getting married the day after the race, and our World's Best Home Stay family lives down there... and we miss them!   After STX, I'll probably race at Disney again, then power up for another go at Ironman Coeur d'Alene.

So getting sick hasn't been that bad: I get to train more with Amanda, and I even set a race schedule!

Thanks for checking in... I really am getting there!

Almost Strong

I have gotten to the point where I'm almost strong. I am not quite strong, but I'm almost there. And by strong I mean strong enough to go back to a normal routine of swimming, biking, running, walking the dogs, hanging out with my wife, eating, and, of course, climbing the stairs.

I'm almost strong. But I'm not quite there yet.

Since getting the flu, I have found new meaning in the term: I've fallen and I can't get up. Although I did not trip and fall; nor did I crash my bike and fall; nor did I even fall off the top bunk; I fell, and I fell hard! I fell flat on my back and I have been worthless ever since. I feel like I got flattened. Like a pancake.

The past couple days, I've been getting back out there for some exercise. Amanda has been kind enough to ride and run with me a few times, right up to the point when she dropped me. And she's been kind enough to come back for me... so she can drop me again. She better watch out. I'm almost strong again.

The other day I realized just how weak I had become when I couldn't even finish a proper meal. I was just too tired to do so. I seemed to have a decent enough appetite, but I just couldn't make myself keep chewing. I was worn out.

I have finally gotten somewhat used to making it up the stairs without needing a couch break at the top. Now that I have conquered that task, I'm setting my sights on putting together a good combo workout. My plan tomorrow is to wake up, climb the stairs without a break at the top, eat a full breakfast, then to ride my bike without getting dropped by Amanda. I am almost strong today, so I think I can do it tomorrow.

Once I'm back to being strong, I'll focus on getting back in shape. Just before I fell flat on my back, I felt like I had actually begun to get in shape. Almost in shape.

Home Is Where the Heart Is

We've been in Austin for just over a month now, and we've really been enjoying our time here. The weather has been incredible. The training has been great. And catching up with all the great folks in town has been amazing.

Amanda and I have established a great routine, and we're starting to feel like we're finally getting in shape! If Fred doesn't get tired of us inhabiting Casa Coogan, we just might be here until mid-March.

Last week I traveled to Nashville to participate in the USAT Southeast Regional Expo. It was a really great event hosted by Kathleen Johnston, a studly age group triathlete, amongst other things. I loved seeing a new city; I had an absolute blast with Shelby and the rest of my new Nashville buddies; and I thoroughly enjoyed giving a talk at the expo.

Just after the event, I flew back to Boulder to check in on things.

While being back in Boulder I had the time to think about our visit to Austin. I was only there for four full days, but I packed a lot in that time. By the end of the last day, I was on the phone talking to Amanda. I had really been missing her and the dogs, especially being in our empty house without them. As we were getting off the phone, I told Amanda that I could not wait to go home. I caught myself, then corrected: I couldn't wait to get back to Austin, I meant.

After living in Austin for over nine years, and after establishing the great friendships that I did, I will always think of Austin as a second home, no matter where I am living. But at that very moment in time I was at home... in Boulder... where my house is and where many of my possessions are. But I had the distinct feeling that I as about to be going home to Austin.

At that moment, it became very evident to me why people say that home is where the heart is. As much as I like Boulder, and as much as I like Austin, it became clear that for me, home is where Amanda and Luna and Blue are waiting for me. I really just don't feel at home unless I am with my wife and doggies.

And it's good to be home.

Austin Update!

OK, so I fell off the blog posting wagon. I see a comment from someone out there asking me not to revert to my old habits, but it seems it already happened. This time the excuse is that I'm in Austin, and I've just run out of time and energy to sit down at the computer to update the blog.

Let's see if I can sum up the last two weeks and a half weeks...

Amanda and I have been having an absolute blast here in Austin. We've been doing some great training, we've been hanging out with all of our good friends, and we've been enjoying the great weather.

Our routine seems to have evolved into getting up very early in the morning. I think I've seen the 5:00 o'clock hour more this past couple weeks, and I have to admit that I like it. We've been joining the UT masters at 6:30 some days; we've been doing runs at Town Lake other mornings; and we've been visiting numerous of Austin's great coffee shops and restaurants on other mornings.

Normally I come to Austin in mid-February, so I'm in a bit better shape when I arrive. My typical Austin trip is centered around logging a bunch of bike miles in prep for an early Ironman. This time around it's a bit different. We showed up here out of shape, and anxious to get going with the training.

Since being here we've come to realize that we really like getting in shape at sea level. It's not quite as painful as it is in Boulder! It's coming along nicely, and I feel that I've already made some noticeable gains.

Today was one of a few three-sport days we've had. The UT pool is closed, so we made it over to one of Austin's gems: Stacy Pool. It's free and it's 100ft in length. Notching 100 yds in just three laps makes the yardage add up much more quickly!

Next up was a nice run around Town Lake. Richie Cunningham is in town, in order to escape the cold Boston winter, so he joined me for the ten-mile loop. It was a bit cooler today, which made for perfect running weather. We ticked away at a comfortable pace chatting about pretty much anything under the sun. I haven't had too many run partners lately, so it was nice to have that company for a change.

My final session was an easy spin with Amanda through some of Austin's great neighborhoods. There are very few flat parts of town, so this ride, like most, was a bit hilly. It feels great to be at sea level, especially when on those climbs!

I'm not making any promises, but I will do my best to keep up those updates.

Thanks for checking in!

Out of Competition

I slept way in this morning, and by way in, I mean until 10:30AM. Amanda graciously allowed me to continue my slumber well past her early hour wake-up time of 7:00AM. Well past it. In fact, she was on her way back from a run when she decided to call me at home to see if I wanted a coffee from Spruce. (I love Spruce.) It was that call that woke me up at 10:30. I might have slept until 11:00 otherwise! Did I forget to mention that I'm part bear?

After a fairly slow start to the day (I opted out of the coffee offer), I found myself outside for the first time around 1:15PM. The dogs asked me to take them for a neighborhood walk, since they, too, chose to skip this morning's run with Amanda. We're a smart bunch.

We did one of our regular loops through the 'hood, stopping a few times to dive our heads into deep snow drifts (Luna), to shiver (Blue), and to pick-up some animalpoop (me). The fact that I was enjoying the 31-degree warmth indicates that I've officially made the mental switch that is key to cold weather adaptation. Temps in the forties seem balmy to me now.

Upon return to the house, I spotted a strange vehicle in the driveway. At first I thought some solicitors were too cold to walk door-to-door, and had chosen to drive door-to-door. Then the car's occupants hopped out and introduced themselves to me as USADA doping control agents. Once again, I was being tested Out of Competition.

This marks the fifth time USADA has come to my house (or to Flatiron Athletic Club) to test me outside of an event in 2007. My grand total for tests this year is eight, once you add the three tests I passed at Ironmans.

The agents told a funny story about how an athlete out in California ducked a test they had targeted him for, and he did so by hiding under the blanket on the couch. The agent testing him could actually see him pull the blanket over his head, after she knocked on his door. I laughed at how silly one must be to think this is an effective method of hiding.

However, it's not funny that he is intentionally skipping his test. I do not think he was a triathlete, but nonetheless, he's an athlete who chooses not to follow the testing protocol. He is, therefore, choosing not to play by the rules. This makes him a cheater, and I don't like hearing about other athletes cheating. I know they are out there, in all sports, taking advantage in one way or another; it just makes me sad to hear about it firsthand.

All I can do is to continue providing samples to the doping control agents; to keep submitting my quarterly schedule to USADA; and to hope that more of these cheaters get caught, and are brought out from under their blankets.

We're Heading to Austin!

We have officially made plans to make our trip out of the winter wonderland of Boulder, Colorado. While we will be very sad to leave our newly formed Friday Run Group, and we'll also miss other great things here at home, we are very excited to get going on some warm weather training!

It's been on the horizon for a while now, but the planning has finally gelled a bit, and we're planning to depart Boulder on the 2nd, 3rd, or/and 5th. Hmm... does that sound like a plan that has gelled? I hope to depart on the 2nd, but if I cannot get myself and the car organized, the dogs and I will pull out of here on the 3rd. We bought Amanda a super cheap one-way ticket departing on the 5th, but there is a chance she'll decide to join the three of us for the road trip. Either way, by the weekend after this one, we'll be in Austin!

I will actually be heading out to Nashville on January 25th, to partake of the Southeast Multi-Sport Expo on the 26th. Anyone in the area on the 26th, stop by for a visit: www.southeasttriexpo.com

From there I'll head back to Boulder for four or five days to check in with NA Sports and everything at the home front, including Frisco. We'll have some folks staying here at our house while we are gone, so Frisco won't be lonely.

On the 31st I'll head back on down to Austin to join back up with Amanda, Luna, Blue, and all the Austin crew. It feels good to have a plan!

And for the next week, I had better bundle up! (But not too much!)

Cannot Get Up

Can. Not. Get. Up.

In spite of my better efforts to drag myself out of bed this afternoon, I was just unable to do so.

Amanda and I had returned home after a chilly early morning run at the club. We opted out of the AM swim practice following the run, in favor of a dip in the hot tub and a nice breakfast. It was one of those decisions that just made sense. We were tired. We were hungry. We were cold.

Once we got back to the house, we thought we'd get changed and head right back down to the pool for a swim on our own. However, we got stalled out by a few distractions: Amanda had to pet her Fluff Friends on Facebook; I read the paper and checked email; and we played around with the dogs a bit. Then, just as we were contemplating the move back to FAC, we got sidetracked... by the bed.

The bed was calling us, and who were we to ignore it!? We jumped in, got under the covers, and before you knew it, two and a half hours had gone by. And we were so groggy when we awoke that we just could not get up. Finally we managed to drag ourselves from the bedroom.

After a short dog walk, we headed down to the club. We did a nice swim, and followed that up with some quality hot tub time. It was a good day, with plenty of relaxing and a few good workouts!

Tomorrow is Christmas Eve, and we're looking forward to laying low once again... after a couple good workouts!

Merry Christmas!

400 IM

Well, after ten days of soreness, tightness, and general weakness from my push-up pyramid, I have finally returned to normal. Well, I may not be normal, but my pecks are normal again. I actually did a 100 straight of butterfly, without breaking stroke, en route to a 400m IM in the pool this evening. Completing this challenge has proven to me that I'm finally over my last challenge!

The Number Three

While typically I am a big fan of the number three, this morning I came across my first reason to dislike it. Three has been my lucky number for quite a while now, and I am normally glad to see its random appearance: on my race number; on my locker number; in my age; in the number of apples, oranges, and plums in my lunch box; and in pretty much everything else. I even used to be number three on my soccer team in high school.

This morning, however, I found a good reason to wish for a different number. As Amanda and I pulled up to the Rez for a short run with the dogs, all four of us were faced with the number three as an indicator of how many degrees Fahrenheit the air temperature was outside. Three! Now that is cold. It's very awful-damn cold, in fact. Sure, it's warmer than two, and it's warmer than -23, but it's still pretty damn cold. This morning I did not like the number three.

Amanda took off with our snow dog, Luna; and I headed off in a different direction with the Blue Dog. We busted out their coats for the occasion, so we were hoping for the best. The Blue Dog is a pretty lean, mostly hairless whippet, so he's not too good in three degrees. Luna, on the other hand, is a furry wire-hair Jack Russel Terrier; one that loves to dive her head into the snow. She is pretty hardy.

Blue and I made it for just about thirty minutes before he, in his dog way, with dog manners and dog tact, told me he was not enjoying himself anymore. We cuddled up in the sheepskin seat covers, and waited for our girls with the car heater blasting.

Impressively, about twenty minutes later, I spotted Amanda and little icicle Luna trotting up to the car. Somehow, after fifty minutes, the sun had not warmed the air up above three degrees. And somehow, these two endured fifty minutes in that three degrees. Impressive.

Watch out, folks: Amanda is motivated, and I am predicting some great races for her in the upcoming season! Even if she did chose to wear running shoes with Yaktrax, while Luna went shoeless.

Snow Day

Amanda and I called a snow day today. It was not very nice weather, and we did not really feel like doing another run on the treadmill, so we called a snow day. Just like back in school, we called off all scheduled activities. I was too sore to do much of anything anyway, so it worked out pretty well. Plus, it was nice to just hang out with Amanda for the day. We stayed in our pajamas for most of the day.

I did manage to get an hour of alternative exercising in, however. With all this snow, the dogs had no way to get out the back door, across the deck and into the backyard. I decided it was time to shovel some snow. I stared in the back, and worked my way to the driveway and front sidewalk.

After clearing a nice path for the dogs, for the mailman, for our car, and for the passers-by, I had logged an hour of challenging work. I was sweating, my heart rate was up, and I had tired muscles. It is amazing how much better it is to shovel snow with an ipod!

And I'm logging the hour.

Push Ups

Today started out pretty early in Casa Lovato. Amanda and I headed into the gym to do a 7:00AM strength and injury prevention class set up by Dave Scott. He's taking a break from teaching the class, but he's shown the full routine to a few folks, and they carry on without him. Although there is no substitute for the suffering inflicted by Dave himself in one of his sessions, this group puts up a good effort.

We joined with three others to do an hour+ of exercises cooked up by Dave's masochistic mind. Amanda and I have been hitting the gym, and even doing some yoga, so most of the session was moderately manageable. Just barely manageable, I should say.

However, near the end of the class, the group suggested we do Mel's push up pyramid. My pecks will never be the same. Thansk, Mel. And thanks to the rest of you for egging me on.

Here is the drill, for those of you who would like to play along at home:
1. Do one push up.
2. Stand up, turn 180 degrees to face the other direction.
3. Drop down and do two push ups.
4. Stand up, turn 180 degrees to face the original direction.
5. Drop down and do three push ups.
6. Stand up, turn 180 degrees, to face the other direction.
7. Drop down and do four push ups.

At this point, you have done ten push ups. Continue this pattern, adding one push up per change in directions... until you fail: push ups to failure. My pecks will never be the same.

At the start of the pyramid, the others said getting up to 12 (1-12) would be 78 total push ups. They said that was the max they'd done. They then challenged me to go up to 15 (1-15), which would be 120 push ups. This would earn a free ice cream. (From whom?)

I can never resist a good challenge or dare. My pecks will never be the same. I did all 120 of them; I quivered and shook at the end; I pushed up past my limits, past my comfort; and I did win the ice cream.

Now I'm too sore to move.

Tag Guidelines

Evidently I forgot to say what the guidelines are for being tagged. This means that each person must list five facts about himself (or herself). They can be any five things, thus my strange list of facts.

Have fun.

Yoga, Tornadoes, Marshmallows, and a Game of Tag

It would appear that I've fallen off the wagon... again. I always think I'm going to have more time in the off season to write on my blog, but that never seems to happen. Nonetheless, I'm back.

Yoga is always a part of my off season. I love the classes, I love how my body feels after a good class, and I love to slow it down for an hour or ninety minutes. My friend LT invited me to a Sunday afternoon class, because it's her favorite one. I've invited Amanda and our friend Fee to attend, and now we have a little Sunday afternoon yoga party. I love it. And my tight muscles love it. I only wish I would make time to do this during the race season.

Tornadoes? What do I mean by Tornadoes? Sure, there are a few twisters in Colorado, but not this time of year. Now is the time for blizzards and freezing temps. In fact, it's about 18 degrees right now, and there's about eight inches of snow on the ground. Sucky pants.

There is only one Tornado I am dealing with, and it's called Tornado Amanda. Lately she's been whipping through the house with a whole bunch of inspiration and motivation. She's more driven to get in shape than I've seen her in a long time. Realizing that she needs a more focused December to set herself up for January 1st training has her going, going, going. And having her going has got me going!

I love the fact that she's got me fired up to get out of bed early (we did so all week!); she's got me sticking to a schedule of runs and rides, as well as swims, weights, and yoga; and she's even got us off the holiday food indulgence plan, so we're eating better. People always want to know what it's like for two professional triathletes to be married. Well, it's great: Amanda inspires me to be a better athlete every day.

Marshmallows might not appear to fit in very well here, but they do. They are a topic that needs addressing. Last night at the grocery store, Amanda and I bought some hot chocolate (her idea). Along with that we picked up some marshmallows (also her idea). Since we were on a roll, we bought some Hershey's bars and a box of graham crackers. Pretty sure those were her ideas also. Anyway, in spite of all the good training and good eating we're doing, we still have room for treats. Amanda just made me the most delicious s'mores treat. I love it.

And as for the game of tag, well, I'm late to the party. Surprise. Seems I've been tagged to list five things about me. Then I tag someone else? Five more people? Hmmm.

1. Playing soccer in high school, I was best known for my ability to do a flip throw (front handspring while throwing the ball in bounds).
2. When I was about three years old, while riding in an elevator with my Grandma, I pulled my pants down in front of some women and proclaimed, "I am a boy... see!"
3. I went to school for one semester in Sevilla, Spain; it was there I learned how to make a tortilla de patatas.
4. When I was thirteen years old, a ski shop sales person asked me if I was a Libra, because I could not chose between florescent green and florescent pink. I've been indecisive ever since.
5. I went streaking in five national parks in five days... back in college... with some friends.

Now I'd like to tag Terra, Karen, Cody, Duane, and Zane.

Hawaii Ironman

Now that I've had plenty of time to let the race sink in, I'm going to go ahead and write the race report. To those of you who checked in earlier, thanks for your patience.

As I managed a few posts prior to the race, I'll try not to dwell on the details of my pre-race experience. To sum it up, the week and a half prior to the event went very smoothly. Amanda and I established a great routine of getting up early every day, going to bed early every night, and eating very well for each meal. I'd say the preparation was perfect.

Race morning was a continuation of a smooth and stress-free week. I got up very early, in fact, I managed to get going on my warm up run before 4:00AM. Back to the condo, I enjoyed a hefty breakfast and a delicious cup of coffee.

For the first time in recent memory (or maybe the first time ever!), I was walking out of transition (with the bike set, tires pumped and body marked) by 5:15AM. How was I this well prepared?! We had arranged with my Stephanie and Huggy Bear Hays to show up at their hotel room at the Kona Seaside at around six o'clock. As we were knocking on the door at 5:20, it seemed we were well ahead of schedule. They had graciously offered us to use their room as a "holding cell" prior to the race. It's nice to have this place to settle down, to be a bit calm, and to apply all of the necessary race lubes... in private.

After donning the incredible blueseventy pointzero3 skinsuit (with long legs!), and applying ample amounts of Aquaphor, Vaseline, and Body Glide, I made my way down to the start. I think I was the third person in the water, as I always like to have as long a warm up as possible. It was 6:25 when I pushed off, and I immediately knew I was going to have a good swim.

Just prior to the start, I bumped into Cam Brown, who was one of the few folks I had deemed worthy of towing me through the swim. I cannot think of a recent race where he has not been in the front pack, so he seemed like a good choice. I lost his feet last year, so this time around, I made sure to stick close in the opening 500 meters.

The swim was incredibly comfortable for me, and I credit this to the hard swim build I did in the month of September. However, I must also attribute it to the fact that we had, once again, been dropped from the leaders. As I cruised along, content to be with Cam and other contenders, I once again lost contact with the front guys, who ultimately formed the main bike group. Next year I will have to swim more aggressively, as it's absolutely key that I exit the water in close contact with these guys. Sorry, Cam, you are no longer my go-to swim guy!

Once through transition and out onto the bike course, I took notice of who was around me. The split to the leaders was just over a minute, and Normann, Sindballe, Vanhoenacker, and many more were nearby. Things looked very promising. I opted to really press that first five miles to see if I could bridge up to the leaders. Learning from last year's mistakes, I notched back the efforts when I realized the gap was not closing. Rather than blow myself up early on, I settled into a nice rhythm with three or four riders.

For much of the first thirty miles, I followed a very conservative strategy. My new goal was to ride with Timo Bracht (last year's number 11) and Cam Brown (last year's number 8) until we got to Hawi. At that point, I'd reassess, and begin to really race the bike. Somewhere around thirty miles into the ride, Torbjorn Sindballe and Marino Vanhoenacker gradually pulled away from our trio. Knowing that Sindballe would likely have the top bike split of the day, I chose to remain patient and to stay where I was.

Vanhoenacker's strategy proved to be brilliant, as he allowed Torbjorn to drag him all the way up to the front group, at which point he joined them, as the strong Dane pulled away. Later on in the ride, Vanhoenacker made a break from the group to enter T2 in third.

As I approached Hawi, I watched as a trio of speedo-clad riders came by my fairly quickly. I did not recognize them, but figured I'd likely see them about forty miles down the road... as the pace looked pretty aggressive to me. Timo left me with that chase trio, and Cam Brown seemed to be dropping further and further back.

I went through the turnaround in Hawi solo, and prepared myself for my weakest section of the race. For some reason, I always struggle in this race from mile 65 to about 72. I have learned to anticipate the lull, so it does not come as a shock when it hits.

Regrouping in the section, I waited to see if any of the weaker swimmers would come through to give me a boost. It never ceases to amaze me how much easier it is (mentally and physically) to ride with one or more guys. To be solo on the lava fields can be punishing.

Just as I was expecting, I was overtaken by a strong athlete who had experienced a rough swim: Rutger Beke. He is a guy who, like me, has experience racing the bike solo, only to run his way up the ranks. Unlike me, he has managed some top-five finishes with that tactic, so I was very glad to have his company.

Passing through the town of Kawaihae--at mile 78 of the race--there is a nearly-two-mile-long climb back to the Queen K. It can be a tough section of the bike, but it's a part I've always considered one of my best segments. I come alive at this point, and I know that the ensuing thirty+ miles are often my best.

I re-passed Rutger, and began my assault on the final thirty miles. On the really windy years, that final bit can really punish those who have gone out too hard. The headwinds can make you unsure as to whether you are going up or down a hill. It's not uncommon to be out of the saddle and gearing down to descend!

We were faced with a moderate amount of wind on our return trip. Folks would be hurting, but there would be no major blow-ups.

Rutger and I exchanged the lead a handful of times, as he seemed to own me on the down hills, while I had a bit of an advantage on the climbs. We managed to keep a great tempo over the closing miles, and I felt great coming back to town.

As always, we picked up a few of the riders who were spit out the back of the main group, as well as two of the unknown speedo guys. Entering T2, I was anxious to start the marathon with one of the sport's toughest runners: Beke.

Within the first mile, I was already losing ground. I took a slow transition, and lost two or three spots before the run began. My goal was to take the first ten miles very conservatively, as history has told me that Alii Drive can be stiflingly hot and humid. Many a runner has cooked himself early, only to find the tank empty out on the Queen K. I wanted to be ready to pick those guys up on the final eight miles of the run.

I think anyone who's raced Kona more than once would agree that this year's trip up and down Alii was uncharacteristically mild. We seemed to have strangely dry air (for Hawaii), and there was even a slight breeze. Although there was not a cloud in the sky, and it was plenty hot, the day was not serving up the brutal conditions it has in the past.

Once out on the Highway, I began to close in on the top ten. In 2003 I remember how much harder the fight was inside that top ten, and I tried to brace myself for those battles. As I approached twelfth place--Tom Evans--I got ready to have him match my move. As I went by, he seemed to let me go... then I heard his footsteps. He came right up on my shoulder, and I assumed he was preparing to run with me. At that point he said, "Lovato, my wife says it's OK if you beat me because I'm still better looking." Ha! I love it. Tom's the type of guy who has no problem talking a little trash right in the midst of a race. You gotta love that.

Further down the road, I got word I was catching the tenth and ninth place guys. Knowing that the race would truly begin when I hit that eighteen mile mark, I was excited to already be in the money. I felt so relaxed and so controlled up to this point. I felt that the pace was very manageable, and with the exception of the climb up Pay and Save hill, I was running every mile between 6:15 and 6:30 pace. With ten miles to go, I was imagining myself reaching that top five before we got back to town.

Assessing the competition as they left the Energy Lab, I knew that McCormack and Alexander were out out reach. They looked very strong, and they looked to be racing one another solely, something that surely pushed them to the race best run splits. Next up was Torbjorn and Deboom. They had a comfortable margin on me, but they did not look to be untouchable. Following them were Lieto, Vanhoenacker and Eneko Llanos. These guys all looked well within my range, as did the former champ, Luc VanLierde. I made the turn, grabbed my special needs, and proceeded to turn up the pace.

After nearly eight hours of racing, I was finally allowing myself to let it all hang out. I had patiently waited to that point, the point at which I'd really go for it. I made my way out of the Energy Lab, and received a split that I had closed on VanLierde. I was really moving, and thoughts of a smokin final 10K were on my mind.

As I turned back onto the Highway, I really ramped it up. For about a mile I was still holding strong. With a 20-mile split of 2:09, I was still under 6:30 average. I figured I'd be finishing around 2:50-2:51, unless I ended up in a tight battle, at which point I thought I could squeeze out a bit more.

Somewhere around 21 miles, my pace faltered. I was experiencing some serious downward pressure, and the focus shifted from maintaining pace to squeezing cheeks. I'll try to refrain from sharing the graphics and gore, but let's just say I became completely satisfied to hold seven-minute pace over the closing five miles.

The battle I was looking to fight UP the road became a battle I was looking not to fight BEHIND me. There are always athletes waiting to pick up the pieces should you come undone, and I was determined to maintain my placing.

I did my best to keep the pace alive, but the distraction of the turtle's head was too great. I settled in to enjoy my jaunt down Alii. My mom handed me an American flag, and I crossed the line all smiles.

I was ecstatic to be back in the top ten, and to have executed almost exactly as I had hoped to do; I was very pleased with my performance. As with every race, I'll take home a few valuable lessons. I'm confident that I'll be moving further up the podium next year.

Ironman Hawaii!

Just thought I'd get on here to make a quick post to the blog. It's been a quick but relaxing couple days since the race, with the only downside being that I've had zero internet time. For some reason, I've had not hotmail access, so the email replies have been behind... as the race report usually is!

First and foremost, I want to thank you all for the positive and encouraging emails you sent prior to the race. I got every one of them, and I appreciate that supports.

Next, I'd like to thank every one who has sent me a congratulatory note on my top-ten finish. I'll get back to you all soon, and I'm happy to see that you're as happy as I am to be back in the mix here in Hawaii.

And finally, the race report is on its way! I promise!

Thanks again... and stay tuned for some photos and some play-by-play reporting!

I have finally made it to Lava Java. We've spent a lot of time here in the past, but hadn't made it down this year. Amanda decided she wanted to do a bit of shopping, so I left her downtown, and came up here to grab a delicious smoothie. It's great to sit here in the evenings, as the view is just about perfect. The ocean is right across the street, and with the exeception of a few odd triathletes running by in their speedos and commpression socks, the view is unobstructed.

We've got about twenty more minutes before the sun sets. Right about now I'm regretting not bringing my camera.

Ah, another day in paradise, and another day closer to race day!

Thanks for checking in.