Race Week

...in which I just checked in at our friend Erin's blog and, upon reading some of her recent adventures familiarizing herself with the joys of riding in the wind, it occurred to me how much I miss the insane levels of training, and the absurd discipline required to Become Ironman. I can't wait to do it again. I wonder when I will. Realistically, I think in '09. That's not an announcement or anything, just thinking out loud. I am happy to be living near Madison, where come September I can go volunteer and support and be part of the moment, at least in whatever way I can.

Anyway, so yeah - race week. Cripes, I have never been less prepared for a race in my life. And, it turns out, I'll be heading to Madison tomorrow night for the home inspection first thing Wednesday morning - so probably one or both of those days will be sacrificed on the training front as well. Sigh. I'll just do my best, I guess. Hope to get in the water and on the bike one or both days, if I can.

Goals: Well, the goal of Saturday's race is to just enjoy the ride. It'll be a fun weekend with friends anyway, and I'm not going to get obsessive about race day. It'll come, and I'll just go out there and have fun and do whatever my best is right now. I am concerned about the strain in my right leg - I jumped on it last night and felt it still twinging, so I may not run at all this week, which is fine because I have work to do on the bike and in the water.

As of now, because I knew going into the season that this (then prospective) move might change things, I only have through July 15th scheduled for races - the Lifetime Triathlon. I think I'll treat that race as my A race, at least in phase 1 of the season - Phase 2 being whatever becomes of the rest of the summer, living then in a different place and continuing to deal with whatever changes life has in store with all of that. That gives me just over two months to get in gear. I have a significant, if not terribly solid anymore, season of base training in on the run, so I'll just have to start trying to get consistent. Yet, that may not come terribly easily either, so whatever. All of my races this season, I think, may just be about doing the best I can at the time. No major goals. No attempted assaults on personal records. And I suppose that'll just have to do.

Anyway, much more to come this week!

Reality Check, Part 1

Whew. Hi. How's things? So. Maybe the Weirdest Spring Ever can finally start to...well, it's not going to slow down, I guess. But at least it's taking some concrete form.

I have alluded, I think, but let me reiterate my life for the last...oh, 6 or 7 weeks. First, it was a solid 4 weeks of home improvement projects. Little ones, mostly, nothing huge, but all time consuming. These projects, of course, take place when possible - after work and on weekends. And they were, and had to be, top priority, because we needed to have the house ready for market when primetime hit - early April - to get moving on our moving. After a great season of base training, and just when it was time to actually develop fitness and technical skills, training went completely out the window.

I just realized, I think this'll be a long one. S'okay, I haven't been able to write in awhile.

Then, the last 3+ weeks, our house has actually been on the market. This has been a far more surreal and stressful experience than I would have ever imagined, and I'm still not sure why. None of my usual tricks worked - educating myself completely of the complexities of home selling...limiting my expectations...working hard...doing "all I can do" and then trusting that I've done "all I can do" - still, I've been sleeping horribly and just in a general mental state of stress. Not good. And, I'm not a stressful person. Amy says, therefore, I lack skills to deal with stress. I disagree - I've dealt with all kinds of stress, and the kinds they make movies about - this is just different, and unique, and for whatever reason the stress of having our home in a constant, sterile state of ready has been a major burden on me. In addition, I've been always on call. My evenings have frequently meant leaving the house for a showing. My training was reduced to one, maybe two solid runs a week, no time in the pool, and very little time on the bike. And so added, my main outlet for dealing with stress largely removed, I've been about impossible to live with.

I realized last week or maybe the week before that I think I've hurt my right rotator cuff, and I think it's been injured for a long time, since before Ironman. I can only lift my right arm comfortably to just about my shoulder-height. Then, it hurts. I can wind it just fine, but it's the lifting, on kind of a 90 axis from my body, that hurts. I don't know where that comes from. Can anybody educate me on what a hurt rotator cuff actually feels like?

I went for a twenty mile run on Thursday - which was supposed to be my weekend run from 4 days previous but kept getting delayed - and I made it 10 miles. My left knee, about 7 miles in, started killing me. And my right achilles/calf felt strained, so that I was changing my form to accommodate the pain, which is the first step in progressing to serious injury. I was obviously asking my body to do more than it was prepared for. I simply can't expect sustained performance at long distances without frequent and sustained training. Triathlon 101.

My weight is okay, but I have, like, zero muscle tone.

So, I've been in something of a significant funk, but none of it had anything to do with attitude adjustment. I've certainly been ready to get on my bike when it's 65 and sunny outside, I just haven't really been able to, or have had to modify to mountain biking around the neighborhood, lest I get a call to have a showing when I'm 20 miles from home. The reality was that this house selling thing was what it was, and requires what it does, and I am subject to that. It's ripped my early season triathlon training to shreds. And that has sucked so much. One does not wait all winter to not finaly revel in a new season.

But.

Last weekend we were in Stoughton. This is a little town some 13 miles from Madison, where I spend a few weeks each summer with my family - Grandma and Grandpa, Aunt & Uncle - who live there. It's also, by the way, is where Stu lives, and where I and others (Pharmie, Steve, TST, Wil, Chris, others) had dinner the night before Ironman last year. Just incidentally. Anyway, we were there on a dedicated home search. Our own house had had something like 13 showings in 2 weeks, and we were having an open house last weekend, so we figured it was a good time to get out of town and get proactive. I'll simplify a great deal of discriminating evaluation and many, many, many hours and conversations into manageable pieces here: We saw a lot of houses, and we found The One. And we love it. And it has a tiled exercise room in the basement where Ol' Blue will live in the wintertime. And a huge office for me. And a humongous master bedroom. It just kicks ass. We saw it on Saturday last week, and loved it. Then we spent Saturday night trying to find reasons to not love it. So we went back on Sunday - after seeing several others (this was one of 14 or something we'd look at over the weekend) and loved it more. So we made an offer on it. Contingent on the sale of our house. And they accepted. So we had, in theory, a home we loved and was ready to love more...if only we could sell our house.

Which, of course, ratcheted up the stress level.

Thursday of this week our house had a showing. A second showing by the same person on Friday. An offer late Friday night. A counter-offer. Haggling over the closing date.

Sold.

Guys. We're moving. To Ironman Country. On June 15th.

Thank you Jesus.

It's hard to describe how I feel right now, because it's different than anything I've ever experienced. Relief isn't it, because it's not that simple. Today Jack had a nap on his favorite bed. He's not been allowed up there in 6 weeks. I left a dirty bowl on the counter. I didn't take off my shoes the second I walked in the house. I did not, as planned for today, have to haul my two dogs and a cat around for 2 hours to kill time while there was an open house. I didn't have to not make plans with friends because there were too many unknowns. I slept - hard - all night, and a nap in the afternoon. And I daydreamed about our new life. Still so many unknowns, still so many questions. But now - it's the adventure I was waiting for. This part, this part sucked the fun out of it. I feel a little like I got my life back.

And everyone around me is happy for us, and our house sold in, like, 25 days or something, which isn't happening a lot around here, and so I realize that things weren't as difficult as they could've been or maybe are for many, but thank God because I do not know how I would've coped. Mike says I would have, I would have just figured it out, and of course I would have, but I'm glad - so glad - I don't have to. I'm so happy about this. I can't even tell you.

But - part of its cost has come at my fitness. So, I adjusted my marathon registration to a half marathon on May 19th. I'm not beating myself up about it - it is what it is. My life hasn't allowed marathon caliber training, and part of being a triathlete - an Ironman - is respecting that, in light of the bigger picture. I still have time to get in shape and have a good summer, I think. Yet, I am moving in 6 weeks and I'm not going to kid myself about the realities facing me there with continued interruptions. I'll just have to deal with it, however. Make adjustements where I can. My goals for this season have become less about triathlon-related goals, and more about triathlon-minded goals. Find the balance in my life in this strange time. I have no idea how it'll go. I'll just do my best.

Meanwhile, I have my first race on Saturday, which is almost laughable I'm so unprepared. But, it's a Sprint, and an indoor swim, and I'm doing it with Todd (I've never done a race with friends, not counting Ironman, and those people were theretofore unmet and we were traversing hundreds of miles and most of a day, so I wasn't really doing a race with friends so much as sharing experiences on the same terrain, where perhaps this one Todd can pass my slow ass and I can shout Go Toddzilla Go! or the like) and our friends will be around to support, and I'm just going to go have fun. I'm going to enjoy myself and treat it as the official kickoff to my season - whatever my season is this year. That's the best I can do.

I should have, finally, some stillness to be back here more regularly now, so thanks for your patience, and thanks for the positive vibes, everybody. Keep 'em coming - there are many many more miles to ride.

Appropro of Nothing

I'm headed out soon for a long run, so stay tuned, but meanwhile...

Things That Amuse Only Me:

The Scene: Me, perusing Jest Guy for a new camera

Cute Jest Guy girl: Any questions or anything today?

Me: (dammit, I was hoping we could do this without conversation. But since she's here...) Uh, yeah. Why is that 7.1 megapixel cheaper than this this 6.1?

Cute Jest Guy girl: (With zero hesitation) See how that one has 10x zoom? This other one has 12x zoom. So that's the compromise. Do you do a lot of blowing up of images?

Me: (Huh, that was an intelligent question that will lead her to understand my knowledge of megapixels. This may be the first intelligent thing anybody has ever said at Jest Guy, ever.) I do, well, sometimes. I'm hoping more zoom will make it wouldn't have to as much, but I like to have the option and keep the images clean.

Cute Jest Guy girl: Sure, well, then I think it comes down to preference.

Me: (Pondering...)

Cute Jest Guy girl: I'll let you look, let me know if you have any other questions.

Me: (Impressed with her choosing to leave my atmosphere at just the right time.)

Later

Me: This one mentions Ni-MH batteries, but this one doesn't. Does that mean this one isn't rechargeable?"

Cute Jest Guy girl: No, this one is, but it uses Lithium Ion batteries. They have just slightly less power. Do you already have the charging base for this? (We're assessing two Kodak cameras, which is the brand I'm most familiar with.)

Me: I do. (Startled that she actually knows what time it is with the batteries as well. Realizing that I'm having an intelligent conversation with an employee at Jest Guy. Shudders slightly.)

Cute Jest Guy girl: Okay, is it pretty new? (I know what she's getting at - last year Kodak changed their charging stations, so the pins on the new cameras - and bases - are smaller. You need a newer base to charge a new camera.)

Me: You know, most of the time at Jest Guy nobody that works here has a clue what they're talking about. You seem to really know what's up. This is actually helpful to me. Yup, so it has the smaller pins.

Cute Jest Guy girl: (Genuinely taken aback, then huge grin) Well...thanks! I'm glad I can help! Great, then yeah, this will work just fine with that one you already have.

Me: Does the plastic cover come with the camera (Different Kodak models come with differently shaped covers that go over a generic base station, so that any type of camera can fit.)

Cute Jest Guy girl: (Still grinning)...You know...I'm almost positive, but let me open up a box to make sure for you.

Me: (Elated that she's not just making shit up, but actually investigating.)

Later still...

Cute Jest Guy girl: So, do you need any additional memory cards with this?

Me: (Thinking how I have a couple at home of at least 1 GB each) No, I'm good. I've got big ones.

Me: (I just said "I've got big ones." Heh heh. Heh heh heh. Ha ha ha ha!)

Me: (At the counter, honestly about to laugh out loud because of my big ones remark. Smiling stupid at the counter, unable to stop.)

Cute Jest Guy girl: Do you want the extended service plan with these?

Me: (Still on the verge of cracking up)...No thanks, and thanks for not assaulting me about how badly I need one.

Cute Jest Guy girl: Yeah...they're kinda useless, really.

Me: (What am I, in the 7th grade? Big ones. Hee hee hee! Still funny after, like, 45 seconds!) Yeah, I agree.

The End.

Also:

The Scene: This morning, when Kristie the Insurance Lady came over to play nurse. Only not like that, but in a draw blood and take urine for life insurance kind of way.

Kristie: ...and now I'll take your height and weight. How tall are you? (As she stands behind me preparing the tape measure.)

Me: About six feet. Six - one with the afro. (Ha! Fletch! Any day you can interject Fletch comments is a good day. We'll both have a good chuckle over that charming quip.)

Kristie: (No response whatsoever to my Fletch line.)

Me: (Maybe she didn't hear me.) About six-one with the afro (he says again). Heh heh.

Kristie: (Looks at me weird. Guess she did hear me the first time. That means of the two of us, I'm the only one laughing at my jokes.)

Me: (Feel kinda dumb. I think I'll just do the rest of this quietly.)

Later...

Kristie: (Preparing stethoscope around her neck) Okay, I'm going to check your blood pressure. (Wraps thing around my arm...puts stethoscope in ears)

Kristie: (Suddenly freaking yelling, with stethoscope in her ears, as one does when he's listening to headphones and thinks the rest of the room won't be able to hear him over the music in his head.) SO YOU'RE SELLING YOUR HOUSE, HUH?

Me: (A moment after literally jumping out of my chair.) Um, yeah.

Kristie: WHAT?

Me: YES! WE'VE HAD IT ON THE MARKET JUST ABOUT TWO (Kristie removes stethoscope headphones) WEEKS NOW.

Kristie: (With same awkward expression as the Fletch quote that didn't go over, now apparently wondering why I'm yelling at her.) Uh, well good luck. Okay now I need some urine...

The End.

Ah, to live in my world. Such good times.

Sixteen

First, let me say that selling one's house does not do well for one's training schedule. You've got to be kidding me with this. Last week, the house went on the market late Monday night - by end of Saturday I think we'd had, like, 10 showings. All of which is great - totally what you want. 'Course, no offers in any of that, but whatever, these things take time. But since I work at home, I'd get the calls for the scheduled showings. I'd then do a quick tour around the Estate to tidy up, load the dogs and cat into the car, and go find some place to be for an hour. Some days this would happen two or three times - that's 2 to 4 hours away from my workday. So then in the evenings I'd have to make up work, and it would come at the expense of working out. By Saturday I was so worked up with house-selling frenzy, and so mentally unstable from not having a single workout, that I think everybody around me wanted to ring my neck. These are some seriously crazy times. I'm grateful I don't have Ironman this year. I just don't know how it could be done, certainly not to my obsessive compulsive standards.

But - yesterday I was finally able to get out for several hours and knock down 16 miles. My longest mileage to date, and strangest of all is that I felt really good. I'm running stronger right now than I deserve, with my spotty training the last 6 weeks. I think I can only attribute it to a pretty solid base, January through March. Add to it the weather (yesterday was perfect, and I was out in shorts and a tshirt for the first time all season...5 days ago I ran 12 miles in tights, gloves, and hat), and I haven't been on my bike hardly at all this season. That will hopefully change this week, depending on house showings.

Anyway, 16 miles, at a consistent pace in the 9:40s/mile. I was never suffering, never pushing hard, never going outside myself. If I'm running that well with this limited training, it makes a guy wonder what he'd be accomplishing with some damn consistency in his life, but whatever - these aren't the days of consistency, and I've made my peace with it. Still don't like it, though.

Best of all, though, and I don't know why this always sort of surprises me, but after my run I just felt recalibrated. Lighter. Better. Not so obsessed with this house stuff. Not so consumed with the what-ifs of it all. Lighter in my life. Not so thoughtful about the minutae. It's not like I dissected anything on my run, or gave any of these things tremendous thought. It's just like the run kind of shakes everything in my head loose a little bit, and they filter out and sift through a little in the course of the mileage. By the time I'm in the shower afterwards, life wasn't quite so overwhelming. Good stuff.

So - I have my first sprint tri in about 3 weeks, and I have zero expecations for it. I'm just going to go out there, enjoy the day, and take it as it comes. I have about 3 weeks left of real running, too, before I start to taper for my May 19 marathon. If I can get up to 20 miles by next weekend, and maybe max out at 22 or 23 in the next couple weeks, I think I'll feel as good as I can expect to feel. If I can't get in that mileage - well, my longest run for IM training was 18 miles, so I'll just have to find ways to cope.

So that's it from my end of the sphere for now. A shout out - my friend Ali is running her second Boston Marathon today. I'm getting updates on my email all day, so I'll keep you apprised. She's also apparently running in a monsoon out there (one thing I can tell you from when I lived in Boston - NOTHING turns a meteorologist on more out there than when they get to use the word "Nor'easter". Seriously. It's like, weather porn for them. They lose their minds with glee, much like weather-people out here get in a lather when major rush-hour snow is expected, or when we have a summer thunderstorm of significance. Break into programming! Execute cool crazy graphics! Send reporters to the scene - "Belinda, I'm here in Eden Prairie where you can still here the thunder rolling behind me. Moments ago, it was raining, and there are unconfirmed reports that a tree was struck by lightning!" Deploy the rain slickers! Send in the clowns! Wheee!) today, so everybody send Ali good vibes that she has a decent race, and that she brought inflatable arm floaties, in case it gets to that point.

Twelve

12 miles today - my longest run in almost a month (sheesh). I headed out for a long lunch break, as - get this - later tonight we're supposed to get the start of 7 inches of snow. In April. Winter can puke on itself for all I care. Just get the hell away from me.

Anyhoo, it wasn't as bad as I thought it would be. I certainly slowed down from my last 6 compared to my first 6 miles, and I wasn't without some discomfort at the end. But I tried to just relax, not overdo anything, and ride a nice comfortable pace. Interestingly, I tethered my Garmin to my arm for the first time (side story: my Garmin 305 crapped out about a month ago or so. I emailed the company, they said to send it in. I had a new one on my doorstep within 10 days from the initial email. That's customer service at work.) I've suspected that my iPod has been a little slow, despite my efforts to calibrate it, but didn't really care - it's not a serious training tool, just a helpful aid. (Did anybody ever see the South Park with Jared the Subway guy who loses a lot of weight because he has aides - as in, "people who assist" - like a nutritionist and a trainer and stuff - but everybody thinks he means AIDS, so they freak out when he says how helpful aids [sic] have been to losing weight. Good times.) Anyway, it was interesting; not only is the distance off (significantly - like, half a mile or a little more), but it's also about 15 seconds slow. How that's possible I have no idea, but there you go. And I generally trust that it's not the Garmin that's bad, because it's always extremely close to my official results at races.

Anyway, what's it's meant, though, is that all this time I've been training with the iPod, my goal has been to just hover around a comfortable 10:00/mile pace. But because it's been running slow - as I learned today - I'm actually running around a 9:35 pace when I think I'm at 10:00. So when the iPod tells me my pace is around 9:35, I look at the Garmin and I'm maybe 9:09 or something. What's interesting about that is that I found my body's conditioned right now to run a "comfortable 10:00/mile pace" - on the iPod. I'm actually running a comfortable 9:30ish pace. Sweet! So - 12 miles, after nearly a month away from such distance, finished at at 9:36/mile pace. That's pretty dope.

I'm going to try and get another long run in this week - probably 15 miles on Saturday. If I can get 15 under my belt, I think I won't feel quite so unprepared for a May 19 marathon - I can finally be getting back into the swing. Meanwhile, the house is finally, officially on the market, and I feel less all-consumed with it. Everbody send good vibes that it'll sell (my positive visualization says within 2 weeks!).

Two things of note today, running at lunch time - I ran by a playground full of kids running. Kids, when the run, they don't really jog or meander - they full-on, all out sprint. And then they don't stop to catch their breath - they maybe slow to a trot while they catch up with friends, or they cut around a tree to tag somebody who will then chase them at full sprint, etc. Their energy is totally amazing to me. And always, they run with a stupid grin on their faces. Ever noticed that? You never see a kid running without a smile, because that would mean it's not so fun, so they just walk then. I caught myself evaluating my facial expression, all gussied up in Lycra and out here for a Very Serious Run, and thought the kids had it down better. So I tried to smile more, and have fun, and remember that as children, the whole reason we go from walk to run is because it looks like more fun.

Also, there's this dog. This little terror who has a great big fenced-in yard that angles to this weird point, about 15 feet across, where it faces the trail I run on. The dog's primary objective, of course, is protecting his vast kingdom, and he spends his time surveying and patrolling the area. When I'm running up the block, I can see him sitting back by the house, serene but alert, evaluating smells and glancing casually at interesting sounds. Then he'll turn my way and see me approaching. In an instant he goes from sitting comfortably to all-out sprint, timed perfectly to intersect with my approach on his fence. And the little dude - he looks kind of like a scruffy Eddie from Frasier - he runs absolutely all out, top speed reached in moments, and hurls himself at the intersection point (which is fascinating in itself, his awareness of momentum and distance and time so that he never misses too early or too late) so fast that I swear he's going to face plant into the fence, all the while snarling and barking and growling with lips curled over impressive teeth, ears back, eyes squinted, seriously ready to kick my ass. But then at the last opportunity, maybe with 5 feet to go, his hind legs that have been so far driving his fierce charge instead dig in on every step, and he comes skidding to a stop in less than a second, all the while glaring at me and hating my guts. It's so primitive. I enjoyed it. Not maybe the part where he hates my guts, but I guess if his hatred fuels his impressive and entertaining display, so be it. I gots other dogs that love me.

Crazy Times

Well, yesterday I was due for 10 miles. Instead, I was fighting the most violent flu I've ever had. It was horrible and insane. It almost seems like it was food poisoning...but from what? That Kashi cereal I had? A bagel with sun dried tomato spread and cheese? Can't figure it out. But man, it was some miserable stuff.

So today I'm a thousand percent better, but still pretty weak and dehydrated. I gotta say, it's been a tough spring to be a triathlete. I've said before that, after the countless hours spent last year training for Ironman, I think it's a fair exchange to this year focus more on the rest of my life. Still...I am a triathlete, after all. I have my first race in (geez) less than a month. A marathon in 6 weeks. And it's been nothing but interruptions and derailments to my training schedule this spring, with the efforts to get the house moving (it goes on the market on Monday, by the way. Everybody cross your fingers), and now getting sick - it takes a few days just to get back to workout-ready status. And the weather - are you kidding me with this weather? It's, like, 26 degrees today. April effing 6th, and it's seriously January outside. No big deal for running, but tough to spend quality time on a tribike when it's so damn cold. Just - a weird spring. I've had to just insist on patience, and attitude - that this is a different kind of season, that I'll have to take what comes, that my expectations will have to be different than they were at the pretty elite (for me) levels I was at last summer. Sigh.

Anyway, that's what's up with me. What's new with you?

On The Move

Geez, well, hi there, hello. I know, hardly recognize me, I look so different. Yeah, been, what, 2 weeks? Something like that? Good, good. Yup, just been busy. How's things with you?

So here's the deal. I have a major announcement. We're moving. Amy and I have had in mind since last spring that a move was in order - just...ready for something new and different. We've given this a ton of thought (even though it's the first I'm sharing it here), and New Mexico was high on the list for a long time, but then we got to considering a multitude of other factors, and - you'll dig this, I promise - decided that we would make our new home in...Madison. Home of the Ironman. How dope is that?

Lots of reasons, I won't bore you with all of them, but some of the most important are - we love the area, are familiar with it from years of visits, and we have family there, which is important to us. That there's a great triathlon community is just a huge bonus. That there's an Ironman is just stupid bonus. So.

Not probably Madison specifically, actually - more like Madison-and-the-surrounding-areas. We actually have a community pretty well picked out, but stand by on that until more develops. There are lots and lots of little towns around Madison that, to call them suburbs is inappropriate, because they're old towns themselves, with personality and history and originality, but that happen to be 12 or 20 minutes away from Madison. Anyway, that's where we're looking.

What this means, of course, is that we'll be selling our home. And this is where my two-week absence comes in. We've been cramming 6 years worth of home improvement projects into 2 weeks, and it has been totally insane. Painting, staining, fixing, moving, organizing, storing, replacing, demolishing, building, on and on and on. Our house is beautiful - I mean, before the projects, it's a really great house - but the long list of "little" projects - the stuff that takes 3 hours on a Saturday - was piled pretty high into several days' worth of 3-hour projects. We want to get the house listed soon - as soon as we can (next week?) - so that means hard work now to address the little things that we think will help it sell. Along the way, we've been sending boatloads to Goodwill and sending tons of other stuff to storage, which means we've been really purging the house of years of accumulated clutter and stuff. It feels so good to start to clear one's path of that stuff, you know? Not just because physically there's more space, it's just nice to toss away irrelevance.

Anyway, we're almost there. The list of projects is shorter, and the projects themselves are shorter, and soon it'll be down to cleaning up, and then it'll be ready for showing. Meanwhile, this has had to be top priority in life. My training came to a screeching halt. I've not run in 2 weeks, have ridden my bike once, and not swam at all. Amy says it's making me crazy - and I feel out of sorts, weird, and off-kilter because of it. It's also pushed me back behind schedule for a triathlon in 5 weeks and a marathon is less than 2 months, nevermind moving towards race-weight; meals have mostly had to be what's convenient and when's convenient. But hey - such is life post-Ironman, you know? I gotta steer the ship, lest the ship steer me. Alas, there is more to life than triathlon.

So, it leaves me here: For any training program, I build in two weeks cushion for illness or injury - never thinking I take those two weeks all at once. Well, cushion gone. This means, of course, I can't get injured or ill. I'll have to spend the next couple of weeks regaining lost fitness, when I was just starting to chisel into a machine. Starting today, I'm back to regular schedules, even if I have to tend to some of my projects later in the evening - I think things are far enough along where I can prioritize as such. I'm on my bike this afternoon come hell or high water, and with a high of 75 forecast, it can't come soon enough.

Anyway, that's my story. I'm back now, though, so thanks for waiting. I'll keep you posted on the move - we don't have specific plans yet as far as a timeline - there has to be movement on our house selling, first. We know that by the time school starts in the fall, we want (need) to be moved in. Beyond that - anytime between June and late August could see us moving, depending on how selling the house goes. Crazy times, these. Best managed with bicycle and running shoes close at hand.

The Week That Was(n't)

Well, it's been a mostly-not-great week of training, and that's okay. I've been utterly swamped at work, working hard around the house, and enjoying some family time. The result: Cripes, nary a workout. Tuesday was some 60 degrees (30's and snow yesterday - typical), which saw The Return of Ol' Blue to the roads, which could not have been more awesome. Otherwise...I'll swim/run a bit today, and move my long run to this weekend (Sunday?), before next week getting back to the regular schedule.

But - I was feeling a little run down lately. A shade overwhelmed with some deadlines and workload, and it's those times that I most appreciate a solid workout, but it's also those times when it's sometimes not the best thing in general. So it is, and that's okay. I'm not going to beat myself up about it.

Otherwise - well, let's hope the weather continues to get warmer - we had a solid 5 days of improvement before this cold snap. So sick of winter, I can't even tell you.

Fifteen

Well, for 11 miles yesterday things went brilliantly. I was clipping along, effortlessly, at around a 9:40 pace, with delusions of wrapping up 15 miles well under a 10:00 pace and all the earth would sing my praises. Then I bonked with a magnificent thud, and by the final mile I was struggling in the mid-elevens. Finished with a 10:03 pace - fine, consistent with my other runs and what I'm wanting to achieve, but those last 4 - especially 3 - miles seriously did me in. And I was pretty messed up for the next several hours until I was finally able to get some serious calories and simple sugars in me. So strange, the bonk. So not a good time. I should've had a bigger dinner the night before, a bigger breakfast, and a bigger lunch. Stupid early season mistakes. Yet - 15 miles in the first week of March is a good thing. I'm feeling right back on target for my May marathon, and that this early season long distance running is going to change the game when I'm racing Half Iron this year. Dope.

Anyway, other than that, a pretty decent week of training. My whole "just relax" approach seems to be producing almost etherial results - in the pool, I've really been focusing on my pull, and on "climbing over the barrel" - I realize that my stroke has been too much to my sides, and I think too "S" like. I actually saw an underwater video of Ian Thorpe that really made me realize something I'm still doing wrong after all this time, so I've been focusing on my technique a lot - which means engaging some argumentative muscles, but that's half the fun. Wednesday, I decided to test myself with a fast 100 - my P.R. for a 100 is from last season, well into Ironman training, at 1:24. Wednesday, so not in race ready shape in the pool, I knocked out 1:25. That's pretty insane, and I attribute it to the improvements in form. So, have to feel good about that.

Tuesday I was on Fyr, but it was really cold (our last "really cold" day? I'll believe that when...), and all the mushy melty snowpack had, then, frozen. So riding on it was nuts - super slick and really rough. I'm really improving my bike handling skills riding in this crap - I don't know how much that will translate to the road, but none of it's bad, I suppose. Anyway, I was due for an hour, then a 20 minute run, but I cut the bike short so as to not freeze to death, and ran 30 minutes after riding 30. All's well that end's well.

This weekend I have to fit a 7 mile run in somewhere, and 2 hours on my bike. We'll see. Meantime, hope everybody has a great weekend, with the wind at your back, and may you be bonk free forever and ever, amen.

Becoming Ironman

I remember the thickness, the weight of the climate on my skin. Early, earlier than the rest of the world wakes up. Because we've chosen to remove ourselves from the rest of the world. The earth is dark, and the skies only begin to glow deep blue with cloud cover.

I remember sitting, one of the first few, on a school bus. Transported in those instants back to countless trips across North Dakota for football, or basketball. The feeling of those green vinyl seats. The unique smell of the diesel vapors that is somehow comforting for its familiarity. Here again, an athlete in transit.

I remember the sensation of the carpet as I lay down for a few last moments to meditate. Give thanks. Recall. Begin. I hear the murmers as they travel down the hallway. The energy is electric, like the air in a thunderstorm.

I can feel the water, warmer than the air, as the still brightening skies begin to appear in heavy, dimensional clouds. I am surrounded by heroes. My swim cap, even it has a smell.

My God, how glorious a cannon might thunder and echo forever and ever and ever, the harbinger that nothing will ever be the same.

Pull, glide, pull. I can sense it even here, in my arms. A ready reaction to propel. One among thousands.

I remember - be thoughtful not to trip and fall, or stub a toe on the concrete. Don't try to run too fast up the helix. Try and check the adrenaline. But then I see them, my Army, the Team that has come to guide and push and encourage. I remember erupting helplessly into a grin. This moment could be the polar opposite of sadness.

It's cold out here. And wet. I wonder if the weather will break, I wonder if this shower will let up around mile 20, or 40, or 100. It helps, maybe, to be away from the nucleus that is Madison. Now it's just me and my machine for the rest of the morning. For the rest of the afternoon. For the rest of my life.

The rain, I remember it becoming meaningless. Soaked to where discomfort or prevention are long past ideas. It just is, now. Seven hours is a long time to get acclimated.

It feels surreal to sit down. I'm shaking and the cold is everything, but at least I'm inside, at least I'm warm for a moment. Those dreams, the ones soundtracked with Rocky anthems during July training, they're in the ether now. At present, the spectacle and specter of Ironman is secondary to the biology of an Ironman athlete. Somehow there's a marathon to run. Somehow I have got to stop shaking. The volunteers, they have sandwhiches and warm water. I cup the warm styrofoam between my hands and drink, willing it to warm up my fingers and toes. I so want a sandwhich, but they're slathered in mayo, and I curse. I remember thinking - I can't stay here anymore. I can't get comfortable again. I can't make the rain and cold meaningful once more.

Somewhere time is going by, somewhere the world is revolving, somewhere people are keeping schedules and doing things that require a glance at the clock. I am not. I am just running. As I sit here, I can recall that thickness in my legs, hard and tendril and hot, pounding against cold and concrete. The world fades from gray to purple to black, and the city reflects itself a million times over in the puddles before I crack the image with a solid footfall, sending it into ripples. Still the Team, still the cold, still I run.

Chicken broth. Good and Gracious God, who thought of this? I remember, as I do, requiring restraint - only drinking it in reward for another 2, or 3, or 4th mile.

So tired now. I can recall the mile, 16, when I actually tried to close my eyes and sleep while still running. Thinking if only I had a moment's rest, I could catch my second wind.

"C'mon, let's run up this hill," I can hear her, somebody from Somebody's Team, trying to help, doing what she can to will these athletes into Becoming Ironman. I am not critical of her efforts, but tell her no. I walk up the hill to spend energy sensibly; it's become of rare supply. I have to avoid cramping. But still, I am back in the game now.

Mile 22 is like...mile 90 of a century ride, or mile 8 of a 10 mile run. It's that thing around which the entire universe pivots, before which was uncertainty and strategy, and after which is determination-driven surety. I will finish. It is inevitable. Even if I break a leg now. Even if I have to crawl from here. I will finish.

Even now, here, on this cold Wednesday, tears fall as I write this, just remembering. It was this much to me.

Stupid elation now, just moronic, pure joy. Animal instinct. Under a mile to go, and I will myself to remember. Memorize this. Downtown is emptier now as the crowds are at The Finish Line, but for a few stragglers, one of whom says words I will never, ever forget. Looks like an Ironman to me.

Turn the corner and it's a supernova. The world has exploded in light and color and noise, doubled over by the wet reflections. It is Homecoming. It is being 9 Years Old. It is a thing so pervasive, so amazing, that I feel ill equipped to manage it. So much bigger than me. So much, this thing is.

The miles, the achievement, the stories and even the reflections like this one, none of those are present then. It's just happiness. Happiness to have finished A Race, which took so much more than 14 hours, 53 minutes, and 27 seconds to complete. It's days, maybe weeks before I'll understand. Maybe I still don't. But just then, no understanding is required. Just joy. And I'm not cold anymore, and couldn't tell you if it was still raining or no.

But I blink, and exhale, and it fades away again. It's March now. There are feet of snow on the ground, my tri-bike is shackled to a trainer, and I am just a guy at his computer. But these things, they come back to me like that. Tactile, immersive. In the car. On my lunch break. In a long run. Often unexpected, with a certain song, or the feel of that kind of high tech fabric, or the smell of rain. Sudden and whole and glorious.

Fourteen

Well, as the city dug out from it's second humongous snowstorm in 5 days, I headed out for 14 miles on Saturday - my longest run so far. It was definitely a tough run - not for fitness reasons, but because most of the residential streets had been marginally plowed, so much of it was like running in sand. Tough for pacing a bit, but a great workout for the legs. Finished with a 10:13 pace, which is just fine. It was the kind of tough road conditions where just getting out there for the run was a triumph.

I've really approached my running this season - and I think my season in general - very relaxed. I'm not out there trying to go harder or faster, just consistent. The more miles I spend around 10:00/pace, the more efficient I think I can get - I mean, that's a 4:20 marathon, which would be drastically improved. But it's also helping me to just run for the enjoyment of it - I'm finding it easy to naturally tune into the right pace, without checking all my gadgets and gizmos, and just go. Same with my winter biking - I'm not obsessing about speed or distance at all, but am just happy to be getting out there on my bike with snow on the ground. It's improving my bike fitness, strengthening those muscles to avoid that early-season sore, and giving me just a touch of a leg up so I'm more prepared when I'm finally on my tri bike. All of this is good news, and are lessons I'm taking from the last half of my summer last season, when things started to click. The less I try and do "too much", and the more I just stay within myself, I think I'll see far better results than ever before. I don't think this is the season for me to work on a lot of speed training, or to try and get comfortable doing a marathon under 4 hours, or whatever. I mean, look at my history here:

2005 Twin Cities Marathon
4:56:46 overall
11:30/mile

2006 Liberty Triathlon Half Ironman
6:29:09 overall
2:31:31 run
11:39/mile

2006 High Cliff Triathlon Half Ironman
6:31:15 overall
2:50:48
13:08/mile

2006 Ironman Wisconson
14:53:27 overall
5:42:53 marathon
13:05/mile

See? I've never had a "good" long-course race - by which I mean I'm executing racing - particularly the run - in accordance with my training. I've either been unprepared, stupid (like kicking all ass on the bike only to lose half an hour on the run), or not appropriately trained. So this year - easy breezy. The bike, I finally learned last year to stay within myself, to take it as it comes, and to keep fresh fresh fresh legs for the run. So now, if I can just get my long distance running to a place where I'm at all sensible, I really think I'll see some drastic improvements. It's not rocket science - I know it's there, I just haven't been able to put it all together yet, now in my 4th year of racing. May 19th - my first marathon - will be my first true test. Then, my first Half Iron, on June 9th. Then next year, if all goes well, I might be in a better position to spend my offseason improving power on the bike, or going faster on the run, and really getting strategic about that stuff. But this season, I really believe I can toss out some remarkable P.R.s if I can just keep to my strategy.

I had a teacher in college, at the Berklee College of Music, Livingston Taylor - James Taylor's brother. Best teacher ever, totally cool guy, and a legend musician in New Englad that's thought of as highly as brother James. Anyway, in his class, people would get up to perform and, in the heat of that moment, would suddenly start flittering and screaming and just trying to blow the doors off the joint. And he'd say - stop that. Stay within yourself. If you haven't done it in rehearsal, don't try it now when these people have paid good money to hear you. We'll all enjoy the song more if you play to your strengths, instead of trying to sound like whatever you heard on the radio. Anyway, good advice that I long ago incorporated into other parts of my life, and am only now starting to learn how to apply to triathlon.

Oh, and my nutrition has finally locked right on. I'm slightly ahead of schedule, I think, to be at Ironman weight (or within a few pounds, anyway), by my Half Iron in June - last year I wasn't there until the end of August. The long runs and long rides this early in the season are definitely doing their part for that. Good.

Anyway. Allegedly some temps in the 40's and mid 40's in the coming 10 days, which might do well to diminish some of these impressive snow drifts and clean things up a bit for easier training. Perhaps - just perhaps - the days of taking 20 minutes to get dressed just to go running will soon be behind us. Sigh. A guy can dream, can't he?

Just a moment.

In as much as, by nature, a blog is some kind of open journal at least, or forum for conversation at best, I have restrictions on it. I try to keep this a collection of my thoughts and experiences specific to triathlon. Which, because triathlon pervades a lot of the rest of my mind, spirit, soul, and body, does sometimes lend to tangents about how I feel in general. Or what I'm processing. Or something I'm learning. But still, I mean to share with you here only what fits into that context, with the occasional post about my dog or my adventures in getting a haircut notwithstanding. I choose this, because for me it's not important or appropriate to air or share anything else in this space. I think I sufficiently share who I am here, but with intentional boundaries.

I have tuned out of some formerly frequented blogs because they got suddenly weird. And comments would turn into flame wars. And entire conversations would get vague and confusing, the way it might when people start discussing politics at a Super Bowl party. And I'd read and think - wait - why am I reading this again? Didn't I subscribe to this channel because I was interested in the common bonds shared between endurance athletes? Somebody pass the chips.

Which is not to say that anybody's not totally welcome in their sphere to talk about whatever the hell they want. It's their space. Go crazy. Do as you wish. Yet, as often, that reasoning rings hollow for me. It removes from the author any responsibility to demonstrate an awareness of situation. Sure you can talk politics at your Super Bowl party. If you want. It's your house. But I came to watch football. So. Is the dip all gone? Ah. Well then, hello, I must be going.

So, all of that was a very winded preamble to this: I have something I feel like saying out loud. It has nothing to do with triathlon. It may be the only time I do this, because I am not a dramatic person. I only sometimes choose introspection, and in fact I'm not a soapbox person at all. I am a very direct person. I am honest and can be very outspoken. Sometimes opinionated. But not at the expense of anybody else. I am zealous of nothing. I am suspicious of a cause. Which is why when the conversation tends to tilt that way, I find something better to do.

What I'm saying is - nothing like that is happening here. I'm not hijacking Becoming Ironman and its purposes to either of us. I just have this one thing. It'll take two minutes. I feel like telling you about this, and I hope that's okay. Tune out now if you like, I won't be offended at all.

What I have to say is this: I choose now, this day, this moment, to remove myself from making entertainment of people's pain. Secondly, I remove myself from the perpetuation of the meaningless.

Point one: This actually comes from something I said last week, or the week before, in a post that isn't memorable, where I said something about how nobody seems to tell Britney Spears that she can't wear that outside the house. And then later I made a joke about how being her hairstylist is cheap work if you can get it. They were totally incidental quips, just off-hand remarks. But actually - I've been feeling really bad about it in the days since. Because whatever she has or has not been created to be, or chosen to be, or however the machinery of the famousphere has dealt with her, she's a human being. And she seems to be going through something terrible, but with cameras in her face. And I'm not comfortable feeling like I contributed to that. In fact, I'd like to say that I'm sorry. It was wrong of me to make jokes about a situation I do not understand. I don't have that right just because she's a public person.

This became accute, I realize, when I came across some of the same photos I'm sure you've seen, where this woman is having a complete meltdown while surrounded by cameras. It was actually sickening. That nobody said, "can I help you?", but instead just...documented the wreckage. flashflashflashflashflashflashflash. Like a scared, cornered creature in a strobe light. And they with shocked can-you-believe-this grins, and dollar signs in their eyes.

I feel sensitive to this.



Point two: Today I read where the Associated Press made a decision a few weeks ago to, as an experiment, to simply not cover Paris Hilton. Good lord I promise you, words I never thought you'd read in this blog include Britney Spears and Paris Hilton. Anyway, the AP thought - what if, instead of saying, "well, we have to publish it because we see that those guys over there are, what if we just...don't." They didn't, they said, do it out of an assumption that the American readership should or could be focusing on other, perhaps more important or substantial things. They didn't do it as an exercise in criticism or sociology. They just thought - maybe this isn't really news, what happened at the nightclub she was at last night. The result - most people didn't care. People just...didn't notice. And those that did, after it was leaked about the experiment, seemed to applaud it.

Meanwhile, there is the death of Anna Nicole Smith. (Ding! Third collection of syllables never before uttered in this space). The outrageousness of everybody surrounding the situation - and I have not followed this at all, I've simply been unable to escape it - has seemed to sterilize that this was a person. A mother. A person that somebody out there I'm sure cared deeply for as a human being, independent of whatever celebrity status for which she was or was not acclaimed. She died suddenly. Her life, whatever it was, has since been reduced to Her Death. And even that has been reduced to An Event.

I am very uncomfortable with this.

Somewhere, real people out there are mourning, and grieving, and hurting. And I will choose to not be privy to the reduction of those processes to sound bites and controversy and sensationalism.

Celebrity in this country has abducted us. I am inundated with photographs, cell phone video, paparrazi shots, blogs, magazines, opinions, snapshots, television shows, snippets, soundbites, etceteras ad nauseum, about people and situations that are not important to me. That waste my time and resources and energy. Whose economies revolve around the misfortune of others. Meanwhile, the Vice President's Chief of Staff is on trial, there is genocide in Darfur, and my friend is being redeployed to Iraq for a second time. I realize that things in this country have seemingly skewed so that the latter examples are reduced to Page Two. That's a discussion for a forum other than this, but that I think illustrates the abduction I speak of. I will no longer be an accomplice in it. I believe reading it is feeding it.

I love music. There are personalities there that interest me, and people who I am interested in knowing more about as people, to better influence my appreciation for their art. I enjoy certain authors the same way, as well as some scientists and businessmen and businesswomen. But my interest there is not insatiable. I am not saying that the person who subscribes to US Magazine is any better or worse than she that does not. In fact, I make no commentary on anyone in the world here other than me. I am done with it. I'm not clicking the links anymore. I'm picking up Car & Driver in the dentist's office instead of People. I will not press play on the inevitable embedded videos, I will not peruse the photographs. I will leave my computer, I will put down the paper, I will pick up a book instead. I'll go workout, I'll visit your blogs, I'll head to trifuel. I'll check out the latest Apple rumors, I'll await the iPhone, I'll wait for Adobe to go Universal so I can get a new computer. I'll listen to music, I'll visit my favorite artists' websites from time to time to see what's new. I'll still watch Letterman. I'll download Conan when I think of it. But I am drawing my line now. I choose to disengage.

Starting now, I am increasing the signal, and doing away with the noise.

That is all. Thank you for reading. Only time I do this, I promise. Back to our regularly scheduled programming.

Fyr on Ice: Direct to Video

As promised, here's some video of last weekend's ride before the storm. This, while we hunker down for Part 2 today through Friday - another foot or more on the forecast. Good times. Not sure if I'll be able to hit the trails this time. Anyway, enjoy.

Fyr on Ice

Wow, well we definitely got a storm this weekend. Something like 14" in my neck of the woods before it was all said and done. It started much later than they thought - late Saturday afternoon, around 4:30 in the afternoon - before then it was just some sputtering sleet and some meaningless snow now and then. When it finally hit, though, it hit for real.

In my experience, there's something about weather phenomena specifically that tends to bring out the neighbor in people. When I was in college I lived in Grand Forks, ND, when the entire city was evacuated because of a flood. I'd never seen people (before or since) - complete strangers - come together in the desperate days before the city was sunk, trying to save one another's houses. The college even cancelled classes so the students could be added to the force of volunteers doing the sandbagging efforts, and I can tell you that, among the people I know, not a single person looked at that as "time off", but instead just got to work. A snow storm is nothing like a flood, of course, but yesterday when I woke up my neighborhood was already buzzing. Our neighbor-boy (what a strange phrase, "neighbor-boy") Luke, who Amy tutors in reading twice or three times a week and who really is just a kind, gentle 10 year old who kind of gives you hope that all is not lost - was out with his Dad and younger brother already snow plowing our driveway (for which he earns a bit of spending money, and I appreciate both his entreprenurial spirit and that his Dad "oversees" Luke's efforts; a good thing for father and son, I think), and our neighbor across the street had attached a plow to his ATV and was cruising around the neighborhood digging out driveways. As the morning went on others dug out of their homes and with snowblowers or shovels in hand, got to work clearing out not just each others' driveways, but even our street, which was a mess before afternoon when the city plows finally showed up. All day (as I made several trips to Home Depot - I put in a new kitchen sink and faucet, thanks very much) - the city was flashing with plow sirens, back-up beeping noises, and people helping each other with stuck cars (myself and another guy helping two teenagers who plowed their front end into a snowbank having some reckless parking lot fun). It felt...I dunno. Like a community. And it doesn't, always. One thing about Minnesotans - we're sometimes pretty damn proud of ourselves for living in a climate of extremes. All morning on Saturday, before the storm hit, I overheard countless cell phone conversations about "the biggest storm in 10 years" and "coming any time" and "supposed to be really bad - we're at Target buying some water and snacks" blah blah blah. We like to talk about how big and bad things can be living here sometimes. But then, just as much, I guess we enjoy the challenge of putting it back together. We don't tend to wait for somebody to organize the efforts, or the city resources to step in and get it done - we just start doing. Pick up a shovel and give me that guy a hand. It's nice.

Anyway, I digress - I had no real intention of sharing a storm story with you. What I DID want to tell you about was my amazing ride on Saturday, just as the storm was hitting. I went out about 2:30pm, and with the snow and rain we'd had the roads were slushy and messy, but not icy. I avoided idiot winter drivers and headed to some trails at a nature reserve/park about a mile from my house. The whole storm was really windy, but protected by woods as I was, and with temps in the low 30's, it was just about perfect. I had a two hour ride on the agenda, but decided to throw out "fitness" and just ride for the fun of it - and man, it was fun. The snow got increasingly heavy as I was out there, and by the time I finished, around 4:30, I was in the middle of a bonafied snowstorm. But this was one of those rare experiences in life where a person feels a little awestruck. It was so amazing, so beautiful - peaceful and calm, snow gently falling. A creek running by the trail, dotted with ducks who, once in awhile uncomfortable with your proximity, would bound out of the creek, pounding the air with their wings, sudden and magnificent. A train even came by over the bridge I rode under. There was just enough snow to make for some creative riding, but not enough to make it too cumbersome or difficult. Cold enough to make my Gatorade slushy, but not frozen. I just had a blast.

And I was thinking out there - normal people right now are at the grocery store stocking up, or heading home to get off the roads, or sitting comfy in front of their televisions. I, instead, am out here on my bike, in the beginnings of a snowstorm. And were I not, I'd be missing out on this amazing thing. These gentle ducks, this peace and quiet, this meandering stream - all of which is made more by the snow that continues to fall right here, right now. I don't meant to get all gooey here, but it's like how sometimes riding in a thunderstorm, or running in the rain, creates some of the coolest and most memorable experiences. Experiences which transcend triathlon or fitness or training, and become singular. And had a person stayed warm and dry, like most of the world, he would never have had the experience. I wonder sometimes if we, our society, or civilization, are missing some of that nowadays. The reward of engaging with nature on its terms. Seems we're always diverting it, or hiding from it, or escaping it. I know you know what I mean, even if I'm not expressing it well here - you know what it's like to choose to be out in the rain, and you know how exhilarating it can be. That guy in that cubicle over there, he hasn't been out in the rain by choice since he was a kid. And therein lies the difference. "Normal" people certainly aren't worse in any way, they just don't make these kinds of choices. And I think in that they are missing something profound, and even made of magic.

When I finally finished and loaded up my bike, throwing my truck back into 4WD and headed out of the park, it was like entering a totally other world. The roads were a brown and mushy mess, cars sliding around everwhere, wind blowing the snow horizontal. It was kind of a letdown. Like coming back to the real world or something.

So yeah. I felt like a kid. And it was awesome.

I brought my camera, actually, and shot a lot of pics and some video, too. I'm swamped this week at work, but I'll see if I can get that video posted soon so you can share the experience a little more tangibly. It was one worth sharing.

Progress

I've had a very decent week of training - my first week of triathlon training for the season. I've been in the pool twice this week - and again tomorrow - and while I'm slow as hell my technique hasn't gone out the window too terribly, so I'm happy about that. Tuesday I was out for an inaugural ride on Fyr - about 17 miles with that typical nasty Minnesota headwind, only this time it was coming from the south, when it usually comes from the north. Anyway, I cannot tell you how great it felt to be back on a bike. Any bike. The bike especially does something for my soul. I love being out there, and am glad that the weather's been decent enough this week where I was able to enjoy the ride (in fact, yesterday after my swim I ran in shorts! Crazy!). I'm due for 2 hours on the bike on Sunday, but we're apparently destined for some kind of impressive storm, so we'll see. I think it would be pleasing to ride around in a storm. That would be dope.

Then today, I had a 12 mile run - moving my long runs now from the weekend to mid-week. Recap - just 11 days ago I had an 11 miler that was UG. LY. I finished with a 10:02 pace, but I had to work really, really hard for it, and walked twice - as a matter of survival, not of strategy. Today's 12 Miler? Awesome. I felt great all day, and finished with a sub-10:00 pace, at 9:53. I walked once to eat - strategy - and had no drama. And I stayed consistent all day, hovering right around a 10:00 pace, which is right where I wanted to be. Felt good to feel good. For the first time all season I felt like an athlete, and not some out-of-shape hack. Add to it that my nutrition is locking in, and just like that I'm feeling like I want to be feeling. Not that I don't have a long way to go, I'm just saying that at this early point in the season, life is good.

I'll keep you posted on the weekend - it's not supposed to be too cold, but windy, maybe rainy, and then probably snowy. Which might be a hella good time. Or, maybe not. We shall see.

Can you hear me now?

So. Today I began triathlon training, finally. Half Ironman distance, specifically. It means I shed one day a week of running, and have at least 2 disciplines a few other days. Long runs move to Thursdays, long bike on Sunday. 'Bout time - I was starting to feel like a runner out there, and a crappy one at that.

Anyhoo, returned to the pool today. The first time in the water since Ironman. Sheesh. And it showed. But here's something new - dude was there talking on his cellphone. No no, you aren't envisioning it. I mean, in the water. On his phone, in the water. Yup. Youngish dude, twenty-something. At first hanging on the side, and then water walking. With his phone. In the freaking pool.

Now, as you know, I'm an incredibly important person. I'm in very high demand, what with the little round basset hound pestering me all day for one thing or another and everybody's favorite yellow lab Jackie awaiting anxiously the slightest breath of adventure. I must get several emails an hour when I'm at work. An hour! Sometimes, when ichat is open, I have all kinds of colleagues needing my attention. Yes, the world does indeed revolve around me. Why, just today my wife called, "Babe?! Can you help me with something?!" and had I not been there to come to her rescue ("I bought a new rug at Target. It's in my car, can you get it?") well, I hate to consider how things may have gone. I shiver just thinking of it. Indeed the world has an axis and it is me.

And even I, in all of my importance, am clearly no more remarkable than Britney Spears' hairdresser (an easy gig, if you can get it!) in comparison to the twentysomethingish dude who had to talk on his phone while walking in a swimming pool. At a gym. This dude has some serious shit going on in his life. Like, National Security shit. Like, you me and the basset hound better thank Tom Cruise and his witchcraft that dude is here to take this call right now - "This is Galactica Actual. Fire on my mark, dammit!" - because had he not taken that call, had he shut the phone down or maybe considered taking the call in a few minutes just after being in the pool - well. All I can assume is that something of profound magnitude, for which the world at large was requiring of his assistance, forced him to his cellphone. While walking. In a pool. And I for one am indebted.

Because for you or me, it would have simply meant turning the thing off, or hearing it ring and letting it go to voicemail because now was swimming time, and phone time can come after swimming time. That's because we lack the importance which requires dude to be on call, all the time, cell phone in hand. No no, for dude it had to have gone something like - "Hello? What?!?! Sweet Josephine this is serious. Just a minute, I'm taking off my pants. What? No of course I don't want to hang up, I require the details. Yes. Yes. Tell the President we're moving to Defon 1. Tell Picard we need more power. Mmm hmm, yes. No, right now I'm naked among other naked men, many of them not terribly handsome, none as important as me. Yes. Yes. Ouch! What? No, sorry, I tripped. Yes, still in the locker room. Tell Neo that we think there's been a breach. I've put on my swimming suit though now, so I'm prepared to continue this conversation as we must. Right. Leaving the locker room now, heading to the pool. No. Can we conference the Prime Minister in? Do it now, dammit, don't you understand time is of the essence?!? Yes. Ooooh! Sorry, no, startled. Water's a bit chilly! (away from phone - Hey! Watch the splashing dammit can't you see I'm on the damn phone!?!) Sorry, okay, go ahead. No we can't talk after I'm done swimming! Alert Lord Vader that the plans to the Death Star have been stolen and that his son may or may not have made out with his daughter if given the opportunity. This instant! This needs to happen NOW! NOW I tell you! Find out if it's the green wire or the red wire. Do you hear ticking? Do you feel anything? Dammit I can't do your job for you! No I'm water walking. Right, good exercise. My grandmother taught me how. Yes. Okay, I'll walk you through it, but whatever you do don't. fall. asleep."

Something like that.

Thank you twentysomethingish dude. For thwarting the invasion, or stopping the oil spill, or maneuvering us away from the explosion, or helping Kiefer Sutherland or helping that chick on that medical drama that everybody watches or saving Kate and Sawyer or whatever thing it was that made all the difference between then, and now. On your cell phone. In a pool. Next to me. In a pool. On your cell phone. On behalf of all of us, thank you.

Either A., I'm becoming this curmudgeony old man who no longer sees the irony in anything at all, who lacks complete amusement and lives in poor humor and who simply cannot keep up with the latest in anything and resents careless youth (ah, the days when one could talk carefree on his cell phone whilst in a public swimming pool), or B., the world is going to hell in a handkerchief. At least I'll be in the next lane to watch the show.

On Fyr

Everybody, this is Fyr. Fyr, this is everybody.



Fyr is a Specialized Rockhopper. In the picture Fyr has disc brakes - my Fyr does not, he has V-brakes. Otherwise, pretty much the same bike. It's a hardtail - which means no suspension in the rear - with Rockshox suspension in the front fork that I can also "turn off" so that it's a stiffer fork, for road riding, for instance.

I didn't know what any of that meant a week ago, but I've since learned. Cuz that's the kind of guy I am.

I haven't heard Fyr speak yet, if he does speak, so he has no words of his own just yet. In fact, I don't even know if the machine is a he. Could be he's a she. That would be interesting.

As you see, Fyr is bright red, pretty much the polar opposite color of Ol' Blue. I don't think I've owned much of anything that was bright red, in my whole life. Except my Chaser, when I was a kid. Though it was white, with red trim. It did have gaudy red handlebars, the Chaser. Which I spraypainted even gaudier redder. But I digress.

I wonder what this machine will be. I'm looking forward to it. When I have everything organized with it, I'll reintroduce you properly. Presently I have a 3 mile run to get to. And then perhaps an inaugural ride of Fyr.

Podfast : week of Feb. 18th

I think we all agreed that last week's race was a lot of fun, and for me at least some extra motivation to push it. Cool!

This week I have a 30 mile total distance goal charted - rather than a "race" about speed, I want to focus more on consistency and mileage for the next few weeks after the crappy last couple of weeks. If anybody's interested in joining in, head over to www.transition3.com to discuss more about it. We also have a 12 mile total mileage challenge in the works if that's more your pace right now, and you are, as always, welcome to set up your own challenges, races, whatever. As always, more info and details over at transition3. See you there!

Brain Playlist: Shuffle

I sure had fun playing basketball this evening. Usually there are way too many people there, everybody signs their name on a list, and the next 5 on the list play the winners. Sometimes your team is 2, 3 teams down the list. You can seriously wait 45 minutes just to play, and if your team sucks, you're done in 10 minutes. Add to that that way too many people thing they're trying out for the friggin' Bulls, and nobody ever just misses a shot, or commits a turnover, it's always a foul. Anyway, tonight I got with a solid group of 3 guys and a girl, and we had the right mix of height, shooters, and ball handlers. Nobody tried to be Michael Jordan, people were friendly to one another, and we had a great time. Held court for 3 games before I had to leave. And I didn't play half bad. Nice.

15 years later and I still wear an aircast on my right ankle when I play ball. Maybe I'm just afraid to play without it. The way my ankle feels right now, though, I doubt it. I'm a wuss.

Do Germans say "Owie"? These two kids were running around when I was leaving the gym - very cute - and they fell down. The girl, very small, screeched "owie!" before the mom came over and said, "zich en un einbritsen!" or something like it. Huh.

I don't follow this sort of thing, except for what a person can't help but see in the papers (which I generally read online), and I think America's obsession with celebrity is the hallmark of a bored civilization, but - is Britney Spears trying to whore herself up as much as she can when she leaves the house? Or trailer-trash herself up on opposite days? It's like this girl has nobody around her saying, "Honey, you can't wear that." Doesn't this girl have a mother? I wonder if, when you reach a certain level of celebrity and thusly lose your damn mind, you either attract the wrong people or repel the right people so nobody around you is the kind of friend that can say, "Dude. You look like hell. I love you, but clean it up."

I'm thinking seriously of getting a low-budget mountain bike for some winter riding, so I don't have to do all my rides for the next 2 months on a trainer. Plus I'd like to mountain bike a little more, I think. It would be fun to learn a whole new sport, I think. I was in the shop today asking dude the most basic of questions, just trying to educate myself about the mountain bike. I think next year I'll update Ol' Blue with a new incarnation as well. I'll keep you posted on that. If anybody has any insights or advice, I'm interested.

I sure do love my job.

Amy and I are re-watching The Sopranos before the final episodes in April. We just started Season 4. You have to be kidding me with how good this show is. That and Deadwood. I don't think they've ever made such entertaining television.

I wonder if Floyd's guilty or not. And Tyler Hamilton. He's off suspension now, Tyler. He's with some tiny little pro team that may or may not get invited to some of the larger races, certainly not the Tour de France. You want to hope these guys are just getting a raw deal. And if so, how utterly, criminally sad. And if not, if they did dope up, well. How utterly and criminally sad.

My dog Jack rules. I know you know this. Never hurts to say it.

Eleven

Wow, that was a tough, tough run. Eleven miles yesterday, and as I said earlier - I just haven't had the mileage in lately to make 11 miles easy. I averaged a 10:02 pace, and had to work really hard for it. The last mile was just a killer. And I stopped twice during the run to walk for a tenth of a mile and regroup. Add to that wearing spanking new shoes, and I fought a couple of blisters near the end as well. I felt pretty shot afterwards.

We also had our first Podfast race, and that really added a lot of fun for me. In fact, a few runners had run on Saturday, so I had some time goals to chase. And were it not for those, I wouldn't have pushed myself nearly as hard as I did. I'm not in position yet to chase time goals, but in a few weeks as my fitness improves, I think that'll really be a useful training motivator. As it is, I placed 3rd/4th in the 5-person field in a tie with Chip, who's doing IMFL this year. How crazy is that - a perfect tie in an 11 mile race? To the second? Crazy. I was shooting for 2nd place (Ben, who's apparently lightning, blazed in 1:19:12, though he thinks 1:25 might be more accuate with some technical difficulties...was no way in hell I was catching that!), but Txskatemom flew in under the radar during my run with a strong 1:47:48.

Anyway, I think the next two weeks, maybe three, I'll not think about speed and focus more on the distance I have each week. This week again is STILL supposed to be cold as hell - seriously, it's like in Narnia, where we've been cursed with winter forever - but next week we have highs in the mid-30's. Heatwave, baby!

It's also my last week in runner's world - starting next Monday I'm officially in Half Ironman training. I'm excited for the return of the triathlete!