Ringo was right......

When he said "You know it don't come easy." Last weekend I punctured my road bike tire in 3 places. So I went to the bike shop and asked for something that would be better at resisting punctures. They sold me a tire that was good at that. The week went by and I finally got around to changing the tire on that bike. Wingman was working late so I thought "hey, I'll change the tire real quick and head out for my ride." Famous last words.

I grabbed the tri bike (that didn't need the tire changed) and noticed that the rear tire looked like it was developing a side wall "hernia" or possibly a hole. So I figured I'll use the new tire to put on the tri bike prior to the race Sunday and go get another tire for the road bike. Problem solved! Not so fast, stupid was what the tri bike was saying to me. First, couldn't get the wheel off. There is a lever on the wheel called a 'quick release' and today it was anything but. Whoever put my wheel on at the bike shop must have looked like this:

The lever would not budge. It was on so tight and I couldn't get it to move. So I looked around the house and found a wrench and that gave me enough leverage to get to open. Now I'm thinking I'm home free. I've changed dozens of tires and can do it blindfolded. Again, famous last words.

I get the tire levers out, get the tire and tube off the rim, inspect the tire and realize it was a time bomb waiting to go off. Good decision to change it. At this point I'm feeling really proud of myself for catching a potential problem instead of it rearing it's ugly head on my ride. I take the new tire and start to mount it on the wheel. Next up is the tube (I remember to put on the valve extender). This too goes on pretty effortlessly. Now I have to put the tire completely on. I get about 7/8ths of the way around and notice that it's going to be a chore to get the rest of the tire on. Most tires are "soft" enough that you can finesse them on. This one was stiff and had no give in it. I see it was going to be a battle of wills here. You have to be careful to not puncture the tube when putting the tire on so they recommend you don't use tools. There was no way this tire was going on. At this point I was struggling to get it to budge. And when it would go one, another section came out. Motherf&*er. Seriously, I am now 30 minutes into a change that should take at most 5 minutes and the tire is still not on. The ears of the guys at the bike shop must have been ringing because I was cursing them out. First for tightening the quick release too much and then for this crappy stiff tire. I considered going down to the bike shop for help mounting the tire, but now I was so angry and fed up that there was no way I could get behind the wheel of a car. 

I can totally understand why Normann Stadler had his mental breakdown in Kona. I was seconds away from tossing my wheel out the door onto the lawn. I called Wingman to vent. I told him to not be surprised if he comes home and finds my bikes strewn across the front lawn in pieces. I was so fed up with it. He told me to leave it aside and he will look at it when he gets home. After I got off the phone I went back the wheel. I will not let it win. I did a big no no and grabbed the tire levers. Finally got the tire on. I grabbed the pump and started putting air in it. Guess what - dummy here punctured the tube with the levers while putting the tire on. They don't call me "Hero of the Stupid" for nothing. Now I have to start all over again.

I repeat the whole process of removal and putting the tire on. I am still stuck with not being able to get the tire on all the way. Now I just walk away. I sat down and watched some TV. I could hear the wheel taunting me from the kitchen. It's like Edgar Allen Poe's "The Tell Tale Heart" where he can hear the heart beating from under the floor, but really it's just in his mind. My wheel was saying "Hey jackass, why don't you grab levers again." I started thinking "of course this tire is puncture resistant. You'll never ride it because you can never get it onto the wheel!!!!"

Finally Wingman got home and attempted to put the tire on. Even he struggled with it. I'm glad I wasn't the only one. He wound up using the tire levers as well but he didn't puncture the tube. I filled it up and we got the wheel back on the bike. Once I calmed down some more I sent an email to the bike shop telling them the tire sucks crap. Well, maybe not in those same exact words but you catch my drift. I have to take a ride down there this morning to pick up a new tube and I'm bringing the wheel with me so they can see the tire. I can't keep a tire on the bike that I can't change so I will have to get a new tire. 

Yep, Ringo was right "It don't come easy"........................

Mixing it up

So this weekend my long ride and run were switched around to get me an extra rest day from my long run prior to the Montauk race next weekend. Normally I ride long Saturday and run long Sunday. I've been doing this for years and am quite used to it. I went out yesterday and ran in the sweltering humidity. I spent the rest of the day recovering from that workout. In my last post I wrote about how Wingman beat me to the line in our sprint. He read the post and laughed and said that he doesn't plot during the ride. I politely disagreed. And to add proof to my argument, I found an issue of Triathlete magazine opened up to an article he was reading called "Spin to Win." I got all Perry Mason on him and he kept insisting he didn't read the article yet. I rest my case.

So this morning we head out on our long ride. There would be no racing on this ride as that would violate the weekend rules. I need to keep the ride below a sprint effort. I was exactly 7 min and 7 sec from the house when I heard the hissing sound coming from my back tire. Motherf*^%^@#@&!!! I really did it this time. I managed to puncture a kevlar reinforced tire in 3 places without actually running anything over. Insane. When I first got the tire off to change the tube, I saw the one puncture mark. Wingman gave me a dollar bill to put in there, but upon further inspection I noticed 2 more marks. I let out a few expletives and nearly threw the entire bike into the corn field ala Normann Stadler:

Instead of changing the tire and the tube, I sent Wingman home to get the car. When he left I did the walk of shame up to the corner to wait for him. When he got me home, I switched bikes and we were on our way again. But at this point I had no mojo to ride. I was so mentally dejected. But I continued onward. I channeled some of that anger into my pedaling. We had a big loop planned. I thought about quitting a few times during the ride, but I knew I would be better off completing it. My favorite part of this loop is the school speed zone that we ride through. It has one of those speed detectors that tells you how fast you're going. Best part is before you approach the area, the pavement is super smooth and you can really pick up some speed. There is a slight decline as well. By the time the radar picks up your speed you are at max speed. I like to see how fast I can hit this spot. But this time a car came by and ruined it. I looked up and saw 43mph and thought "WHOOOO HOOOOO, I'm kickin' ass today" and then I noticed the car. In reality, I only hit ~31mph, maxed out of gears once again. Dang nab it.

Once we were on our way back, I was feeling better. Once again I slightly violated my no racing on weekend rule. Some guy passed me on 25a and my first thought was "oh no you didn't" and I immediately set off to catch the rabbit. After ~2 minutes I knew I was killing the ride so I backed off. Until the next rabbit appeared. On a motorcycle. I was approaching a traffic light that just turned green and a guy on a motorcycle was getting ready to go. For some dumb reason I wanted to see how long I could stay with him. Hey, they don't call me Hero of the Stupid for nothing. I did manage to hang in there for ~10 seconds. The rest of the ride home was uneventful. I came to realize, as major fatigue set in, that I don't like riding long after running long. I don't like riding on super tired legs. Takes the fun out of cycling for me. There are times that workouts have to be flipped around, but for the most part I enjoy the Saturday ride. And I have to say I am soooo looking forward to a rest day tomorrow. My legs are quite tired from the week. Not only did I have all of my workouts, but I am on my feet at my clinical for 7 hours straight. Not much rest for the weary. So for my rest day I will be back at the bike shop for another tire and then over to the DMV to renew my vehicle registration (that I waited until the last minute to do).

Waiting for a break

Seriously, this heat is killing me. I can swim in it and I can bike in it. But there is no way I can run in it. No matter how much I run, it's not getting easier. Hopefully the fall races will show the results of the work I am putting in now.

Friday afternoon Wingman and I went for a ride. It's been a bit windy the last few rides so I try to plan the ride where we go out into the wind and back with the wind. I got home Friday around 2:30p and didn't change my clothes. I sat on the couch and starting reading stuff for my inservice. Next thing I knew the eyes were getting heavy so I turned on the TV and, true to form, I was out like a light in no time. Wingman came home from work and found me half passed out in my work clothes sprawled on the couch. Couldn't have been a pretty sight. I finally woke from my slumber and changed into my riding clothes. We agreed on the route and were on our way. Of course there was a head wind going out. I usually pull us along on the rides since it's me that needs the workout. Wingman comes along for the exercise. So I did my best to channel my inner "PoPo" and pulled Wingman up to the William Floyd Parkway. I would check behind occasionally and he was settled in on my wheel. I was the workhorse for the ride. I knew once we hit the WFP we'd have the tailwind and could hammer away.

The ride was pretty smooth but I had to make one quick stop to stretch my neck again. After a few minutes,  we were on our way. In the back of my mind, I knew our final sprint would be coming. I was trying to gauge how Wingman might be feeling. He said at the start of the ride that he was feeling tired, but I knew not to put any stock in that statement. We rode closer to the sprint zone and I could sense he was plotting as well. When we made the turn to the straightaway, I was in front. I did my best to shift as quietly as possible  and keep my cadence steady. I didn't want to give any hint of when I would make my move. I kept shifting and I could hear him behind me shifting. My heart was pounding at this point. We had ~1 mile to go. It was on now. I was spinning fast. I could feel the burning in my legs. I need to hang on but I could hear the Wingman coming up along side me. I try to shift again, but I look down and imagine my horror when I see that I AM OUT OF GEARS!!!! Crap, damn compact cranks!!! I have no where to go but to dig in and try to ride harder. But now I am no longer spinning circles. My legs are like lead and I am sputtering. Wingman sees that I have no response so he backs off a bit. It's his way of taunting me. I try to pick it up again but he puts the hammer down and beats me to the line.

I spend the rest of the ride home recovering from the ride. I just rode easy to try and flush the legs. Someday I will take back the green jersey, but for now, it proudly rests on the shoulders of the Wingman. One day when he least expects it, I will break away and hold on for the victory.

Next weekend I have another race coming up - the Montauk Sprint Tri. I love this race and it will be interesting to see where I am this year compared to last year. Barring a catastrophe, I think I can do a little better than last year. Not sure where it will come from but on race day I plan on going full throttle. No training day for me!!

Holiday Weekend

Yesterday the Wingman and I set out for a long bike ride. We sort of improvised the route. Basically the idea was to head out east and after a time limit, we'd turn around and come back. We caught a nice break with the weather and made good time out to Greenport. From there we went south to 25 to come back home. It was at this point I realized we'd been riding with a tailwind heading east. Now we had some wind to contend with. Overall we made some decent time coming back and Wingman even got in front to help pull me home. I was suffering a bit when we got to Mattituck. I've been dealing with a stiff neck/stuck vertebrae the last few days and can't turn my head to the left. I've tried a few things and nothing completely relieves it. So looking over my shoulder was tough. I had to completely turn my body on the bike to look back. Then around the 40 mile mark, it seemed like every muscle in my neck seized up. I called to Wingman in front of me to stop but he didn't hear me. I had to stop to stretch. Hopefully at some point he would notice I wasn't behind him.

Once I stretched out a little, I was on my way. He wasn't too far ahead and used the break to stretch out as well. When I caught up I hopped in front and continued homeward. The hardest part was when we got to the intersection with Brieremere Farms. The traffic was tough, but the call of the pies and cookies was tougher. I thought about the money in my pocket, the time in the saddle, the glycogen replenishing I had to do at the end of the ride. Very overwhelming. Back in Greenport I almost had a moment of weakness. There was a carnival being setup and I saw all of the food trucks. Two words caught my eye:

Oh yes, fried doughy goodness. It reminded me of my grandmother and when I was younger she used to make funnel cakes. Oh man, I can still taste the powdered sugar............

Sorry, got caught in a moment......

Anyway, I opted to ride past Brieremere and come straight home. Wingman had a haircut appt that he was going to be late for. I had an appt with the shower and the couch. Once he left I took a shower and then was out like a light on the couch.

Wingman made it home and we watched the prologue for the Tour de France. It was a short ride (5.5 miles) but we like watching how fast these guys can move. One of my favorite time trial riders is Fabian Cancellara aka Spartacus. We also like Thor Hushold aka The God of Thunder. I love the nicknames in cycling. I would love a cool one, but the only one that seems to stick is "Hero of the Stupid." I just can't seem to shake that one.

Today we went out to take some pictures. Holy cow, it was hot out there. After a while Wingman stayed in the car while I ran out for some shots. We stumbled upon the infamous "shrine" near Eastport/Manorville. Now I'm not a religious person, but I'm not sure I've ever seen more jesus statues in my life and I did 4 years hard time in catholic school. I think shrine is an understatement. I did my best to be respectful of the people that were there. I was taking pictures of some flowers and then turned around and saw a woman sitting with her rosary praying. Whoops. I quietly walked away. 

We went over to Best Buy so I can pre-order my new cell phone. I've been in the market for a while and holding out hope that the iPhone would be coming to Verizon Wireless but I've given up hope. Plus, I like the new Android phones out there. Of course now that I am getting an Android phone, the announcement should be coming any day that iPhone will be out for Verizon customers.

Run Around Hell

Actually, it was called the Run Around the Lake. We try to do this race every year. It's a challenging 4 miler. It's never a completely flat race. You are either running up a hill/incline or down an incline. There are no real downhills here. Each year I think "this is the year I will conquer the hill at mile 3" and each year that hill owns me.

So this morning the Wingman and I got up early and had breakfast. Last night my GI system was 'upset' so I made sure (at least I thought I made sure) that I had enough water this morning prior to the race. I didn't want to go into the race in the heat already dehydrated. I brought along a 20oz bottle of water to drink. I probably should have made it a bottle of Infinit. We got to the race and picked up our packets. The last few years they had a nice technical shirt in the bag. This year they went back to the cotton shirts that are the most hideous colors known to man. I joked before we got there about hoping to get a nice bright orange shirt this year. Well, when I looked in the bag, I wasn't far off the mark. It was a yellow-orange color. They must get a discount on the shirts if they pick ugly colors.

The only other thing in the race bag (besides the flyers) was a small box of Wheaties Fuel. We dropped the stuff back off in the car and watched the start of the kids 1 mile fun run. After that we began the walk to the start of the race. We hung out in the shade and I was still optimistic about my race. The last two weeks my workouts have been really good. I can feel my speed improving and I owe it all to the negative energy generated by my clinical affiliation. Every time I have a bad day, I have a great run. So Friday started out good and ended kinda bad. And when I say it ended bad, it's not that I screwed up with a patient, but according to my CI, I didn't do things exactly the way he would have done it and he let's me know about it. I take in his comments, filter them, and extract the information that is useful to me and chuck out the rest. So this morning I tried to relive that conversation in my head.

When the horn sounded I got stuck in some human traffic. I decided instead of burning some extra energy weaving in and out, I would just wait until the road widens a little bit and then get some room. About half a mile into the race is the first hill. I eased up a little to save some energy for the other hill later. Also, this is the last section of any kind of shade. The rest of the run from mile 1 to the end is out in the sun. When I cruised past the mile 1 marker, I looked at my watch. I was right on pace. At this point I was actually thinking I could hold it. I also started to notice I was soaked. I was sweating heavily today. And I have just begun to run in the sun.

At this point I am out on Portion Road heading towards the now defunct Bavarian Inn. I am still feeling decent, but the heat is wearing me down. I am drenched and in desperate need of water. Another aid station won't be coming up for another mile. I tried to hang in there, but I suddenly started feeling lightheaded. I eased off the pace and it still didn't help. I noticed that I was no longer running a straight line. The wobble run had begun. I decided to walk for a minute just to collect myself and let my heart rate come down. When I started running again, I noticed on the median the sprinklers were on. And I wasn't wearing a white shirt. BONUS!! No wet t-shirt contest for me. I ran up onto the grass and through 8 sprinklers. I felt like I was 4 years old again. What a wonderful feeling. Problem was it was short lived. Once I was back out on the road, I was suffering again. I hit the aid station near the drug rehab facility. For some reason, they always have the best water on the course. The other 2 stations have hose water, but the addicts have some good water. Plus it was very cold. I don't know what their secret is and I don't want to know. I just had to hope that the USADA would not be at the finish line. I grabbed two cups and drank them both. I got to the mile 3 marker and started feeling better. Problem was, my nemesis hill was looming. It's not a big hill, but one of those slow inclines that wears you down, beats you into submission.

The hill had me early. I felt like I was dying out there. Some guy ran by, looked back at me and said "Come on." I did my best to follow, but my legs were having none of it. All I kept thinking was "every year this race gets hotter and the hills get bigger." When the top of the incline came along I started to pick up my pace. I knew there was about half a mile to go. I wanted to salvage something out of this race. If I could finish strong, it would make up for the 1.5 miles of hell that I just went through. 

Then, a great song came on and the beat was perfect for me.

I was able to run to the beat and accomplish my goal of a strong finish. I was able to escape the clutches of hell. I crossed the finish line and went straight for the water area. I reached into the bucket and grabbed a bottle of water. Then I went back in for some ice. I put a few big cubes in my hat and on my neck and was feeling much better. I downed my bottle quickly and went back for another for the Wingman. There were none left. Uh oh. I ran back to the car and grabbed his bottle and then ran back to the buckets with ice, grabbed a few cubes, put them in his bottle and shook it. I saw him coming down the finish chute and handed him the bottle. He downed it in no time. We swapped race stories as we made our way over to the BBQ area. This is something they started last year and decided to continue it. If you are registered for the race, you are entitled to the BBQ. We were one of the first ones on line as Wingman said he was hungry. They had cole slaw, potato salad, macaroni salad, hamburgers, hot dogs and a bunch of sodas. It was only 10am, but that burger was good. 

While I didn't have the race I wanted, at least I got myself to finish strong. I'm not a good hot weather runner no matter how much I try to get used to it. But next race in the heat, I will be sure to choose a different prerace drink. On the ride home I told the Wingman that perhaps we should decide at the last minute next year if we should do this race again so we could see what the weather would look like. But he said we should just do the race anyway, no matter what the weather is. So, let's cross our fingers for a cool day next year.

No Regrets

That was my mindset going into the race this morning. I didn't want to get to the end of the race and think "I wish I ran faster" or "I should have swam harder." I just wanted a nice solid effort. Yesterday the Wingman and I decided he would stay home for this race. He is still dealing with his infection and has had trouble sleeping. I figured he would be more comfortable staying home. So I was going without my Wingman.

Last night I was asleep around 9:30p with my alarm set for 4a. I learned my lesson last year about not eating much for breakfast so I wanted to be sure I was up in plenty of time to eat. So at 4a, I hopped out of bed, ate, then jumped into the shower. When I got out of the shower, Wingman was up. He said he would help me pack the car for the race. What a guy!! I kissed him goodbye and then was on my way. I put on some good pre-race music to get me 'in the mood' to race. Before I knew it, I was at the marina. There weren't many cars there yet so I picked a good spot and backed in. I unpacked the car, dropped my stuff of in transition and made a bee line to the bathroom. The nice thing about getting there early is you have a choice between the porta-potty and a real bathroom. Obviously I chose the real bathroom. Took care of business then went back out to setup my transition.

My setup doesn't take long. After I finished I went over to the water to check the temps. The water felt great. I decided to only wear my wetsuit bottom and ditch the top. I also noticed the water had a chop to it. The wind was kicking up the water and I also noticed that we'd be swimming against the current. It didn't look too bad so I decided not to give it another thought.

I went back to transition and grabbed my wetsuit, cap, goggles, shot blocks and an ear plug. I felt an eerie calmness come over me. Usually I have some butterflies, but today I didn't. I climbed into the water to warm up a little bit and wound up cutting my toe on the big blocks in the water. I took a look and saw that it was along the side of my toe, not the bottom so I would be OK for biking and running. Phew!

I was in the 4th wave so I watched the others go off. I tried to stay focused on the swim start and finding a good place. When the horn went off so did I. The chop got to me a little in the beginning. When I would turn my head to breathe, the water would drop me down from a swell so it would make me a little nauseas. Great, at this rate I'm ready to puke in the water. I got to the first buoy and made the turn unscathed. I noticed now that I was up on people from the previous wave. Between the 1st and 2nd buoy was a lifeguard on a surfboard. I almost laughed out loud when I saw 8 men hanging on. No women, just men. Really guys?!?! The swim wasn't that bad and it was still early. It picked me up and I felt a little stronger now. I got to the final buoy and made my turn into the final stretch. I was now swimming into the sun and misjudged where the swim finish was. The lifeguard got my attention and I corrected my direction. It got a little tight near the swim finish and I may or may not have gotten a little too familiar with another swimmer near me. He wasn't wearing a wetsuit (just a tri suit) and when I went to begin my next swim stroke I can say with confidence that he does not have an enlarged prostate. Phew, I am sure he'd be relived to hear that. I should sent him a bill for a copay.

Once I made it out of the water I ran to transition to get my bike. The wetsuit came off easy and the transition went smooth. I grabbed the bike from the rack and was on my way. My goal for this race was to go out hard on the bike and see what I could do. Only problem was I got caught up at times in packs of beginners. The race people went out of their way to educate racers about proper bike conduct. It was in the race packet and mentioned again at the pre race briefing. You have to stay to your right. So many riders today were riding all the way to the left and at times riding two abreast and chatting. Hello people!?! This is a race, not a social outing. There'll be plenty of time to talk later. This only fueled me to ride harder and faster at times. I could hear the Eminem lyrics in my head:

No more games, I'ma change what you call rage
Tear this motherfucking roof off like 2 dogs caged
I was playing in the beginning, the mood all changed

I started to worry that I would blow myself out before I got to the run, but I had to get away from them. Then one woman almost brought me to a grinding halt. I was coming up on her so I said "On your left" as I was about to pass her. She decided to move left as well. I was now near the double yellow line and kept saying "on your left." Dumb bitch never gave me room and even had the balls to say "I heard you. Why don't you move more to the left." Oh no she didn't!?!?! I wanted to stop and beat the crap out of her right there. Instead I just picked up my pace and got out of there. The final half mile was rough because the road is narrow and you really can't pass anymore.

I made it to T2 and thought about how my tri almost turned into an MMA event. I think I had enough rage to take her down!! But now I had to run first. Got into my running shoes and made a mistake before leaving T2. In my anger/rage, I pulled my laces waaaaaay too tight. I didn't realize it until halfway into the run.

The run is a super flat out and back course. My goal was to just be comfortable out there. I started running as soon as I exited transition. I made my way down the boardwalk and out of the marina. I ran in fear of that woman tracking me down. I also ran in fear of my competition. I saw her in T2 and wanted to get as much distance between us as possible. I knew if I walked at all, she could possibly pass me. SO no walking today!! I made it to the turnaround and looked for my competition. When I made it back to the main road I saw her. There was a good distance between us, but now I wanted to put the hammer down and bring it home. No regrets today. At this point I could feel my foot going numb. Dang nab it, my laces were too tight. I made a quick stop to loosen them and the continued on. Didn't really lose any time over it. I was now nearing the marina again and could hear the finish line area. I just focused on hanging on. The last 1/4 mile is on grass. Great, nice unstable surface for me and my numb foot! Actually I got the feeling back in my foot by now, but really didn't want to run on the grass. As I crossed the finish line, I felt good knowing that I executed a good race plan. I knew right away that there wasn't anything I would have changed about the effort I put out today.

I got out of the finisher's area and went over to look at the results. Mine wasn't posted yet so I went to the car to get my post race recovery drink. By the time I made it back the times were posted. I shaved 7 minutes off my time from last year. Gotta say I was pretty happy about that. I was proud of what I did today. I was able to stay in the moment and not think too far ahead. It really fired me up for the rest of the season. My next race is the Montauk sprint. I'll take a look at last years results and review it with Jen to come up with a good game plan to take some more time off.

But for now, I get to celebrate my victory today:

Who cares about the hardware, I won some cookies!!!

Swimming in a fog

This morning I got up early to swim in the lake. Wynn & Teresa wouldn't be there since they were heading up to NH for a race this weekend. Ian would be there, but I can't keep up with him. He's fast in the water. He'll do laps around me so he keeps me in his sight, but I was hoping someone would come down that was somewhat my speed in the water. Wynn's friend Dave came down. He's slightly faster than me, but enough that I have someone to stay near. I certainly needed it this morning. This was by far the craziest swim I have ever done. There was a little chop in the lake from the wind, but the fog was super thick. I couldn't see anything. Ian pointed out the general direction for us to head in. You could throw sighting out the window. All I saw when I looked up was white. I could see along the surface of the water and a little bit ahead so I could see Dave, but Ian and John swam ahead of us and were out of sight. I finally made my way over to the other side and they were waiting for me. We chatted about the ridiculousness of the fog and laughed. Then we were on our way back. This is where it got strange.

Dave and I stayed together for the swim back. We were constantly stopping to orient ourselves. The conversation went something like this:

Me: I have no idea where we are. Do you know which way?
Dave: Not too sure. I think it's this way.
Me: Do you see a white house? That's what we need to swim towards.
Dave: Are those road signs over there? That's the road.
Me: Well, if we can't find the shoreline, we can swim to the signs and get out and walk back ;-)

I laughed the rest of the way back to the beach. I swear I didn't even see it until I was ~50 meters out. I just followed Dave and hoped for the best. I have to say it was probably the most memorable swim I've had. I've been in that lake dozens of times to swim and it's not that big. But today it was huge. Amazing what a little fog can do.

When I got home I took a little 'power nap' since I didn't feel like I slept well last night. Once I got up I changed for my run. Once again I completely forgot I have a race Sunday and wanted to wear my new DS Trainers (running shoes) so I had to break them in. I wore then today for a 4 miler and man, I love the way new sneakers feel. It was a little humid out, but there was a nice breeze blowing so I felt comfortable most of the time. It was a solid run and I'm feeling great about Sunday. My goal is strictly to use it as a training day and will not go into it with the mindset of racing. It's the first tri of the season for me and I want to gauge where I am at. I definitely feel better than I did at this time last year. My only goal for Sunday is to not fall apart on the run. Last year was a miserable run and it looks like a lot of it was due to barely eating prior to the race. Got that under control now so I'm hoping for a solid effort.

A "Good Luck" shout out to Wynn & Teresa up at Mooseman this weekend. I did that race back in 2006 as prep for Lake Placid. It's a great race and they should do well. Wynn is doing the half and Teresa is doing the olympic. Good Look Warriors!!

KATN

Kickin' Ass, Takin' Names

That sums up my ride this morning. I got up early and had something to eat. Then I made my way downstairs to replace the xlab brackets on my Cervelo. Once that was done, I changed and went out for my ride. On the schedule was a moderate 1 hour effort with a few 90 second bursts thrown in. I can tell these workouts are having an effect on me because I am faster much earlier in the season than I was last year. I also feel like it's less effort to ride as well.........unless I am pushing for the green jersey of course. 

I cruise for my warmup and then I hit a nice patch of straightaway. Someone might have well been waving a green flag because I was off and flying.

I felt really good out there. The only downer was Wingman had to go to work so I was riding solo. I was doing our usual out and back ride. I made it to the turnaround over a minute faster than normal. I was looking down at my speed from time to time and saw some nice numbers. My goal was to maintain speed for the 2nd half of the ride. After I turned around it felt a little difficult to get that intensity up, but then I saw something ahead. Another rider on a tri bike. It was as if I smelled blood in the water. I get so competitive at times when I am riding. 

All I could think of was "reel him in." The goal of the workout was gone. There was a new goal. I knew I wouldn't be riding hard for too long - maybe another mile - so I went for it. I came up behind him and noticed he slowed down. I waited a second then passed him on the left and said good morning. Then I dropped the hammer. I channeled my inner Fabian:

Every once in a while I would drop my head to look back to see where he was. DOH!! He was still right behind me. I guess he was using me to pick up his speed as much as I was using him. I flew down to the next intersection and waved goodbye. The TT was over and I won.....well, can't really say that if he didn't even know he was racing, can I? I used the last 15 minutes of the ride as an 'easy' cool down. 

I made it home and had another breakfast. Legs are feeling good and I'll head out to take some pictures today. I took a few yesterday and put them up. Let's see what today brings me.

10K meltdown

The weekend started off with a bang. I woke up Saturday knowing the Wingman was coming home. I showered, ate breakfast, and went to the supermarket. The weather was unbelievable. My mood was lifted even higher. There was no one at the supermarket so I got in and out quick. I zipped over to Target to pick up a few more things. The cashier range it up and told me my total. Then she said "Oh wait, I've got a $1 off coupon you can have." BONUS!! I thanked her and left with a smile on my face. Things were looking up for me. I went over to 7-11 for some liquid crack (diet pepsi) and when a woman held the door open I said thank you. She was shocked. She looked at me and was so happy that someone finally said thank you to her. I don't know, I thought if someone does something for you you're supposed to say thank you. Go figure. I was feeling good that I made someone's day. Man, can it get much better. From here I went over to the bike shop to pick up my bicycle then over to the lake for the first swim of the season. I wasn't there to swim, but as the 'official' photographer of the loonies in the lake. From here I went to the airport to pickup the Wingman.

The one thing about this weekend was it seemed like someone flipped the weather switch. We went from 50's to high 70's in a matter of two days. Most of my running has been in cool weather and now I am tasked with running a 10k in the heat and humidity. The weather people were reporting 79% humidity for Sunday with temps in the 70s. If you run, this is not good. And if you haven't been running in heat, this is really not good.

The alarm went off at 5a and I went straight to the kitchen to eat breakfast. I kept thinking about going back to bed and skipping the race. But I really had no good reason to skip it. So I hopped in the shower and then got dressed. Now I was feeling ready to race. I grabbed my water bottle and bag, said good-bye to the Wingman and headed out to the race. I got there, found a good spot and walked to the starting area. I was looking around for the Warrior crew (Teresa, Wynn, Ian and Joan) when I heard my named being called. I thought "That doesn't sound like Wynn". It wasn't. It was actually my P&O professor. He started running this year and signed up for the half. I wished him good luck and set off again to find my group. A minute later I found them. I asked Teresa what time she was aiming for. I knew it was a little too ambitious for me but I told her I would run a few miles at her early pace and then tail off at some point. The start was very anti-climatic. We were chatting and I said "I think that was the starting gun". Seems like everyone on the 10k side missed it. No one was moving at first. 

Finally we got going and I followed Teresa's pace. I could tell when she would speed up a little but she quickly would catch herself and slow it down again. I could feel the humidity immediately. The air felt really thick and difficult to move through. I suspected by mile1 this would not be a good race. 

Mile 1

For the most part it's flat with the exception of the small overpass at the start. We cruised easily down the road. We didn't chat much because that would take more energy than I wanted to expend. Teresa had a time goal, I had a survival goal so I told her to stick to her pace and if she drops me, don't look back. Keep going, save yourself. I've lived a good life. Sorry, I get a little carried away.......

Mile 2

It was here where we noticed the cops gawking at the women as they passed by. Quite frankly they looked like perverts staring. Or perhaps we were just jealous they weren't staring at us. It was here that I told her I was dropping back. I already felt like I was suffering badly. At the water station the drinks were cold. I grabbed two cups - one over the head and the other to drink. I only had 4 more miles to go, but it felt like 40.

Mile 3

I kept convincing myself I felt a breeze. I was desperate. I tried to think frozen thoughts to try to keep my  body temperature down. I thought about slurpee's, italian ices, ice sculptures, etc. Nothing worked. I came upon the 5k marker and saw another aid station. Grabbed two more cups. When the cool water hit my back, I could feel my pace quicken. Problem was it didn't last long. A short while later I was dragging my ass again.

Mile 4

Is that a breeze I feel? Why yes, it's a slight headwind. And I mean slight. But it was welcome. I started to cool down a little bit but I was still on fire. I kept looking for the entrance into the park. The route here is not quite scenic. It's the jail and lot's of barbed wire. I can't imagine how someone would be able to scale that fence without ripping their limbs to shreds. But the bright side is, that thought kept me busy for 1 mile.

Mile 5

Back into the park. Whoo hoo. Almost home free. Just gotta run 1.2 miles and this nightmare is over. Just run carefully and in no time I'm done. OUCH!! I thought I said run carefully. There was a wide crack in the path and I thought I landed my foot strike to miss it. Nope. The ball of my foot was in the crack and I felt a lightening bolt shoot up through my foot - like the pain from a neuroma. Oh, man. Now I had a hot spot in my foot when I ran. The same hot spot in my foot from the last race. I gotta get new sneakers. I notice the photographer up ahead. I quickly check my hair, make sure the shirt looks good, and I took Sinead's advice and made sure to wipe the snot from my nose. I even picked up the pace as I approached so I would look like I was running at a decent speed.

Mile 6

Oh man, the park is so disorienting. There are so many twists and turns that you can't quite figure out where the finish line is until you're close to it. People are cheering and I'm thinking "where's this timing mat. I want to go home."

I finally crossed the finish line in what has to be my worst 10k time. I was so disappointed in myself. I had been running well up until this race. I know the weather was part of the problem, but I didn't think I would be that slow as a result. I am still ashamed that I actually ran that poorly. I had a hard time staying positive while waiting for the warrior crew to finish their races. I really wanted to go back to the car and cry.

After everyone was accounted for, I bid the crew farewell and went back to the car. I called the Wingman and told him of my misery. I drove home and he took me out for an omelet. Then I came home and passed out on the couch. 

PS - the race organizers really went over the top with the post race food bag. It was a really nice cooler bag with the following items:

1. large bagel (300 calories)
2. apple slices (40 calories)
3. banana (100 calories)
4. pudding (100 calories)
5. peanut butter crackers (180 calories)
6. cinnamon raisin danish (336 calories)

There were more calories in that bag (1,056) than I burned off in the race. I stuck to the apples, banana and my recoverite and brought the rest home.