Wednesday, July 23, 2008

Jesus Ate Better Than Cavemen (and so do I)

Leading up to the Ironman, I had some digestive issues during some of my runs (several of my runs, actually). And we all know what happened during the marathon at the Ironman this year! So Krisha and I started talking about what might be the problem. As you all know, I tend to over think/over analyze everything (I even re-wrote this sentence three times!), so I decided to do a little research to determine what might be the best diet for me. I’m sure this will take a little experimentation, but hopefully, I can figure out the best nutrition plan for me.

I’ve read numerous books on this subject already. One of the best, in my opinion, is Chris Carmichael’s “Food for Fitness.” It’s great because Chris takes the mystery out of making healthy choices. Everything we eat “carries” the things we need (and sometimes things we don’t need) to our bodies. The trick is to find the best “carrier” for the job. I’ve been eating according to this book for several years now, and I have become leaner, fitter, and faster. I recommend it to everyone, athlete or not. But there still may be something that I’m eating that is causing distress at times. So, I started looking at specifically what I was eating. I decided that everything is suspect. Even my organic, skinless chicken breasts, although “healthy,” may not be the best thing for me in particular (since, like training plans, nutrition plans are individual). So I started looking at other theories of eating.

A lot of other well respected coaches and triathletes argue in favor of the Paleo diet (aka, the caveman diet). The idea is that our technology to produce food has evolved way faster than our bodies have adapted to being able to digest those foods. In an effort to feed billions of people, we have learned to harvest grains and rice to make breads, pastas, etc., that are very filling, but we were never intended to eat that way. Accordingly, we should be eating like our caveman (and cavewoman!) ancestors: i.e., ONLY fresh fruits and vegetables and lean cuts of meat. No grains, beans, rice, bread, pasta, milk, cheese, chocolate, wine, beer, donuts, fettuccini alfredo, Kraft singles, French toast stuffed with blackberry preserves and cream cheese (mmmm), pizza, ice cream, peanut butter . . . you get the idea. If the caveman didn’t eat it, neither should you because we weren’t designed to eat those things. Huh?

Something about all that just sounds CRAZY to me! For one thing, where did the cavepeople that I came from live? Do I only eat things that were indigenous to that area? So, no bananas or mangos unless my cave ancestors lived in what is now Ecuador or Southeast Asia? And no bread? Or peanut butter? That can’t be right! And that got me to thinking (big surprise!). I can appreciate their logic. I agree that our bodies have not adapted (nor will they ever adapt) to certain examples of things Americans eat (I refuse to call them “food”) such as trans fats, high fructose corn syrup, or xanthium gum (whatever that is). But I still believe that the "technology" of turning wheat into bread is not one of those examples. So what were we “designed” to eat? Well, since I believe that God made me, I turned to the Bible to see if there was anything there that might shed some light on how I should eat.

In the book of Daniel in the Old Testament, Daniel and his boys were held captive by King Nebuchadnezzar. So that they could someday serve in the king’s palace, King Neb wanted Daniel and his boys to be big, strong, and handsome. So he instructed them to eat from the king’s table. Daniel didn’t like this because he found the King’s fatty meat and wine offensive (sort of like trans fats are to me – You’ll never make me eat trans fats, George Bush!!). Daniel told the official in charge of him to test him for 10 days by only feeding him vegetables and water. It wasn’t that Danny Boy was necessarily a vegetarian. He simply found the foods that the King was trying to present to him as unhealthy and offensive. In the end, Daniel 1:15 tells us that after the ten days, Daniel and his boys “looked healthier and better nourished than any of the young men who ate the royal food.” This is a very good argument for eating like a vegetarian. But it doesn’t necessarily mean that we were “designed” to eat like vegetarians. For Daniel, it was a matter of eating vegetables, or fatty, offensive meats. He chose vegetables since there apparently were no healthy alternatives. This is a good lesson for all of us when we are faced with a menu of unhealthy choices.

Next, I thought about what Jesus may have eaten (yes the obvious “What Would Jesus Eat” joke is there, but apparently some guy has already written a book about that too, and I try not to plagiarize). Jesus was not a vegetarian. He ate fish. But more importantly (pay attention Paleo Proponents!), Jesus ate “loaves of bread” (organic and whole grain, of course). And it wasn’t unleavened bread either! Manna, or unleavened bread, did not come in “loaves.” So don’t try to argue that I shouldn’t eat delicious yeasty breads! Most of the breads of the day were flatbreads (or pitas), which were made with yeast. AND there would have been no significance to the sacrifice of eating unleavened bread at the Passover Feast, if they were not allowed to eat leavened bread at other times. So there! Jesus would have sweetened things with honey, not refined sugar, and he would have gotten most of his fat from olives and olive oil.

There are no accounts (that I’m aware of) of Jesus actually eating red meat. There are places in the bible where people ate a “fattened calf” and there were shepherds so they most likely ate lamb. But this was only on special occasions. It seems that even the shepherds only ate lamb on special occasions, and certainly not every day.

Jesus turned water into wine, but as my dad would point out, there are no accounts of Jesus ever actually drinking wine. It was prevalent in the day, and personally, I doubt he would have provided wine for others if it was unhealthy to drink. Some people point to the Passover Feast and claim that Jesus drank wine. However, this is erroneous because at the Passover Feast it would have necessarily been unfermented wine, or grape juice. Regardless, like lamb, wine is something that Jesus would have likely had, but definitely not in excess, and most likely only occasionally.

Don’t get me wrong. I’m not saying that we should ONLY eat what Jesus ate. I’m sure had Jesus lived in Ecuador rather than Jerusalem, he would have loved bananas! What I am saying is that if Jesus ate it, then it’s probably ok for us to eat. Don't forget, Jesus was perfect. More importantly, if it was available to him, and he chose not eat it, or to only eat it every once in a while, that should be a real indication that we should either not eat it, or only eat it every once in a while. For example, red meat and cheese.

So, I’m going to focus my nutrition plan around fresh fruits and vegetables, whole grain breads, fish, olive oil, and I’ll limit my consumption of cheese, red meat, and wine, but won’t necessarily cut those out altogether. The only real difference in this and how I have eaten for the past several years is the dairy aspect. Maybe that’s been the problem. I do love cheese (just not the horrible, horrible processed stuff!). And ice cream. And pizza. And French toast stuffed with blackberry preserves and cream cheese (I’m sure Jesus would have loved that too!). But, for now at least, I’m cutting back on cheese and other dairy products. This was a lot of work, and a really long post, just to conclude that I shouldn't eat so much cheese! And I doubt that the answer to my stomach woes is simply "too much cheese." But I’ll let you know what happens.

(P.S. – If you question anything I’ve said above, please do your research before you start arguing with me. I’ve done mine, but I’ll admit that most of what I’ve said comes from my own knowledge of the Bible, and Google. Regardless, feel free to leave comments and I will answer anything you have questions about. That includes my conclusory logic.)

Wednesday, July 16, 2008

The Battle of My Left and Right Brains



Yes, I have two brains. Neither of them work properly all of the time, but between them and me, we seem to manage ok. Here is my report from the Triple Bypass. I hope you enjoy it as much as I enjoyed the ride!

After (finally) finding a place to park, Ryan and I clipped in at about 6:40. The climbing started at about 6:41. The first climb is up to Squaw Pass, which tops out at 11,140 feet. It was gorgeous and not too tough (probably because it was the first climb!). We pretty much rode steady up to the first aid station, which is at the top of the climb. It was cold at the top so I put on my arm warmers for the fast ride back down the other side of the mountain. I was basically wearing the same clothing I would wear on a 100 degree day in Hades, er . . . Texas, plus some thin arm warmers. No big deal, right? Wrong. It turns out, when you are traveling on two very thin wheels at speeds of over 40 miles an hour, it's a good idea to be warm! Just try staying on your bike traveling that fast down a mountain without the ability to keep your front wheel from wobbling because you are shivering so much. The ironic part is that shivering is your brain’s way of keeping you warm so that you don’t go into hypothermia. But when choosing between 40mph worth of road rash (not to mention broken bones . . . even though I just did) and the risk of hypothermia, I choose the risk of hypothermia almost every time (especially since I was in no real danger of hypothermia!). My logical, know-it-all, dorky, left brain was eventually able to convince my touchy feely, over-reacting, hippie, risk-taking (and very cold), right brain that keeping the bike upright was more important, and the shivering in my arms stopped. One down. Two to go.

After a jaunt through Idaho Springs, we started the climb up to Loveland Pass (11,990 feet). The only really bad part of the entire course was when we actually had to get on I-70 and battle the semis. It wasn’t too long though, and eventually, we made it to an aid station 4 miles from the top of Loveland Pass. I knew this would be the steepest part of the day, so we fueled up on turkey sandwiches, peanut butter and jelly, watermelon, and Cliff Blocks before heading up the last part of the climb. We guessed that it would take around 40 minutes. I felt really good coming out of that aid station (I’m sure it was the Wonder Bread and processed turkey!), so I decided to go for it. At one point I heard someone tell his riding partner (a very strong female) to “get on his wheel” (talking about me), so there was no way I was slowing down after that (both my brains are prideful!). I pulled those two for a while, and ended up ticking off all four miles in 26 minutes (14 minutes faster than my guess). That’s where we stopped for the above picture.

Knowing that my right brain is not a fast learner, I bundled up for the ride down this time (arm warmers, leg warmers, and my rain jacket). While bundling, I felt like the back of my head was going to explode! I got dizzy, and for a minute wondered if I would vomit right over the side of the mountain. Apparently, neither of my brains like working that hard at 12,000 feet since they live about 6 feet above sea level. They settled down and I felt much better about half way down the mountain, and no shivering! Two down. One to go.

After the descent we went around Lake Dillon and into a rest stop in Frisco. Once you go through Frisco, you get on a trail that leads all the way to Avon (about 40-50 miles away (pay attention Texas, you could learn something from Colorado’s trails!)). It was the easiest climb of the day, but it was by far the hardest climb of the day. It wasn’t as steep or as long as the two we had just done. But I entered a zone, not too far into that climb, that endurance athletes refer to as "bonking." Most athletes overuse the term bonking, so I rarely say it. It’s not just getting tired and not being able to work hard anymore. That's not bonking, that's you not training hard enough. Bonking is actually when your brain decides it’s time to quit, and there’s nothing the rest of your body can do to convince it otherwise. Here is the scientific explanation of what happens when you bonk, which was written by Chris Carmichael:

“The importance of carbohydrate cannot be overstated. Not only is it the primary fuel source for endurance performance, it is the primary fuel for your brain and central nervous system. The brain cannot produce energy from fat or protein on its own; it can only take glucose (sugar) from the blood. This is part of the reason bonking (running low on blood sugar) is so detrimental to performance. The confusion, nausea, and disorientation that go along with bonking are more due to the brain running low on glucose than a problem with energy-starved muscles. When push comes to shove, the brain acts defensively to make sure it gets enough fuel. It forces you to slow down or stop exercising so it can use what sugar you have left to maintain your basic bodily functions.”

In other words, if you truly bonk, you can only blame yourself because you didn’t fuel properly! (of course, if you fake bonk, you can only blame yourself because you didn't train properly!). I’ve known this for a long time. I’ve known that bonking leads to confusion, nausea, and in my case, grumpiness/irritability. But the best part about bonking is that the logical, analytical left brain can’t even figure out what the heck is going on! Logic goes out the window, and the hippie right brain takes over and screams “DUUUUDE! SOMETHING’S WRONG!!! You've killed the left brain! I'm all you have left! We have to stop, NOW! And don’t think I won’t make you puke to do it!” All you can think at that point is, “I don't want to do this anymore or ever again.” You can’t figure out that all you need is a little sugar. And all you want is to do is stop.

So when we got to Copper Mountain, we stopped. And I ate. And then, I was fine. We cruised on up to Vail Pass (10,560 feet) without any other issues. I was happy, level headed, and having fun again. Stupid right brain! All we needed was a gel! Stop overreacting! We aren’t going to freeze to death, and we certainly aren’t going to starve to death! (Does anyone else find it strange that the RIGHT side of our brain is the hippie? Genius. God is hilarious.).

This has gotten really long, so I won’t go into much detail about the last 25-30 miles other than to say that it is NOT all downhill like the deceitful map shows. And the map conveniently left off the headwind as well. In all, I only burned around 4500 calories over the 121 miles (that extra mile was from our parking spot to the start) and over 10,000 feet of climbing. Right at 7 and a half hours. Average speed: a smokin’ 16 mph.

My right brain wants to do it again next year. We still haven’t convinced the left side. He’ll come around though. He forgets things easily.

Thursday, July 10, 2008

Off to Colorado

Tonight, Krisha and I (and John) fly out to Denver. We're staying with our wonderful friends Ryan and Gayle (and Austin and Wyatt). We haven't met Wyatt yet, so we're excited for that. And we haven't seen Austin since last fall, so that's just as exciting.
Friday, I'll be at CTS to get the new road bike fitted, and to do some training with Lindsay. Then on Saturday, the real purpose of the trip. The Triple Bypass! No, not open heart surgery. I can do that in Dallas. What I can't do in Dallas is ride a bike over the Continental Divide. I talked a little about it in my last post. The ride climbs more than 10,000 feet over three climbs and 120 miles. It starts in Evergreen, and ends just outside of Vail. For those of you who have made the drive from Denver to Vail, this ride is not as easy as taking I-70. I-70 was built so that you don't have to drive the route we'll be riding. I can't wait!
If you're keeping up with Le Tour right now, check out this article by Chris Carmichael, which compares the Tour to the Triple Bypass.
See you next week . . .

Tuesday, July 8, 2008

Stop all your whining!

Athletes are a whiny bunch. Most want perfect conditions all the time. Well, too bad. Especially for me. Because I live in Texas. Where it's windy and hot. Always. If you live and train here, don't be surprised when you go outside and your skin melts. It's Texas! I bet our Alaskan friends don't go outside in winter and say, "Holy crap, it's cold! And dark! I thought it was noon?" Of course it's cold and dark at noon in the winter! It's Alaska! But more on that later . . .

I had last Friday off for the 4th of July (hooray, America!). I like to take advantage of long weekends by getting in lots of good miles on the bike, even if it's only two weeks after an Ironman. Surprisingly, though, I was feeling quite recovered from the race, so I got up early on Friday and met some guys in Dallas for about a 60 mile ride. I felt pretty strong all morning, and was really impressed with how quickly I seemed to recover from the Ironman. Last year it took me two months to feel strong again. This year, two weeks (or so I thought)!

Our plans for Friday included celebrating the 4th (and another Ironman finish for Brian and me) at my parents' house, which is about 35 miles away. So Brian thought it would be fun to ride to their house. I agreed. I'm not sure what happened, but sometime between my morning ride and noon it got really, really hot. And humid. And windy. I know what you're thinking . . . "at least there was wind to help cool you off." Um, if you're thinking that, then you've never been here. The wind makes it hotter. Not to mention slower. If you want to understand how this feels, set up your trainer in a steam room, and then have someone blow a hair dryer in your face while you hammer away for about 2 hours. Needless to say, by the time I got to my parents, I was wasted. Regardless, it was 90 miles and a little less than 5 hours of riding, so that's still a pretty good day. Besides that, I hear Kona is fairly hot and humid as well so I might as well be prepared for that day, whenever it may come.

Which reminds me . . . Would everyone please stop whining about tough conditions and especially about difficult courses!?!? Triathlons are hard. All of them. Especially Ironmans. But even sprint distances with short pool swims are hard. If they aren't, then you aren't trying hard enough! Training is also hard. And if you aren't training in difficult conditions, then you aren't going to be ready for race day when it's hot, cold, sunny, rainy, windy, whatever. The last time I was in Boulder, Ryan and I got back to the Res after a long day of riding during an unseasonably windy day. As we were stretching, a guy came up who had just finished his run. He said he was a pro duathlete (admitted that he "can't" swim -- that's a topic for another post). He was supposed to run 15 miles or so that day, but it was "too windy" so he was calling it a day. ARE YOU KIDDING ME!? Too windy? I'm an age grouper who works more than "full-time" as an attorney, and I was out there enjoying a great day of training. Here's a guy who's a supposed "professional" and he doesn't want to run because it's windy?! Really? I wonder why I've never heard of this guy? In the words of the great Steve Prefontaine, "To give anything less than your best is to sacrifice the gift." Everyone that does this sport (especially those that do it for a living!) have been given a special gift. Don't sacrifice it because it's windy! Show me a pro who won't train when it's windy, and I'll show you a soon-to-be-age-grouper. And by the way, when you do become an age-grouper, don't expect to win in my division just because you're a former pro. I train in the wind! And the Texas heat.

Which reminds me . . . Saturday I realized that I'm not so recovered after all. All I had was a 50 minute run, but my legs felt like bricks. It was hot (of course), and I was slow. I (stupidly) did not take water with me (it's only 50 minutes . . .), so I lost 4 pounds in that short amount of time. I ran the last mile (which is pretty much all uphill) in 7:38. Pretty off-pace, but as tired as my legs were, and as dehydrated as I was, I actually expected it to be slower. Sunday was a little better. I did a 90 minute brick (60 on the bike followed by a 30 minute run). Felt good on the bike, and heavy/sluggish on the run (again). And yes, it was hot. But I'll get over it. And, most importantly, I worked hard and finished all of my workouts.

This weekend we're headed to Colorado for the Triple Bypass. 10,000 feet of climbing over 120 miles. Plus, it might be windy, cold at times, hot at others, and possibly rainy. All the ingredients for an epic day. Too bad my "professional" friend from Boulder will miss it.

Thursday, July 3, 2008

Beware of Cyclists!

I rode my bike in to work yesterday. Yes, I still live in Rockwall/Heath (25 miles East of Dallas), which was the number one question from everyone that saw my bike at the office. And no, I can't really disagree with Bicycling Magazine that Dallas is the worst city in America for cycling (WHO'S NUMBER ONE!?!?!). But still, since they opened a new gym in my building downtown, I no longer had the "where would I shower" excuse. So I gave it a try. Long story short, I'll be doing it again. This gives me the opportunity to get in a couple of 40 mile rides during the week, and still be at my desk by 9:00. I can't wait! But here's the long story anyway . . .

I couldn't figure out how to safely get across Lake Ray Hubbard, so my lovely wife dropped me off at the Bass Pro Shop (Stop laughing! That wasn't supposed to be funny! I do live in Texas. On a lake. And actually she dropped me off on "Bass Pro Drive." Ok, that's a little bit funny.). The plan was to ride along the I-30 frontage road, then turn North on St. Francis, and take that up to White Rock Lake (yes, another lake. This one's smaller, though, and lots of people run or ride the trail that goes around it (about 10 miles), so I wasn't quite as out of place there as I was at the Bass Pro Shop). That part of the plan worked perfectly. It was safer than I expected it to be. In fact, I think it may be one of the safest routes I ride. Take that Bicycling Magazine!!

But then I got to White Rock Lake, and the "safety" of a biking trail. As soon as I got on the trail, a lady on a bike (I'm sure a very nice, courteous, sweet lady) checked for traffic from her right (I was coming from her left) and proceded to pull out in front of me nearly taking us both out. I had made it safely past Bubba's jacked up dually on Bass Pro Drive, SUV Mom putting on her makeup and racing to get to work on time, the alleged gunfire that occasionally breaks out in the areas South of White Rock Lake, and most importantly, those bike chasing dogs that have been known to take me down (and ruin a good pair of wheels!). But once I reached the safe haven of a bike trail, another cyclist almost takes me out. Gotta love irony. But hey, at least she's out there! Keep it up ma'am! But please, look both ways next time.

Once I got off the trail and back onto the busy city streets again, I didn't have any other issues. Other than getting lost (Thank God for Blackberries and Mapquest!). While trying to find my way, I came across two Dallas Policemen on mountain bikes, so I stopped them. "Good morning, Gentlemen! Can you tell me the safest way to get to downtown from here?" Their answer: "In a car." Touche, Bicycling Magazine. Touche.

Monday, June 30, 2008

The Ironman . . . A Game of Inches

Ok, so the answer was no. I did not have a sub-10 hour Ironman in me. Yet. Regardless, it was a great trip! We had lots of fun in Seattle and Coeur d'Alene. I even bought a 17 pound Halibut at the Pike Place Fish Market in Seattle. That's the place where they throw the fish. We watched them throw all kinds of salmon, trout, etc., and they never dropped any of them . . . until my halibut. It actually knocked the guy down it hit him so hard, which was quite hilarious! (Why is it that we laugh at people when they fall???). Alas, we'll be eating a lot of halibut for a while! We've had one steak, and it was awesome, so we're looking forward to the rest. We'll see how excited we are about fresh halibut about 12 pounds from now!

On to the race report: I took a while to get this post up because I wanted to include a cool picture from the race when I posted this. But it's taking too long to get the pictures so you'll have to stay tuned for actual pictures of me and the course. This bear is the best pic I have so far. And he is a pretty good description of how ridiculous an Ironman can feel at times (before you get on to me for being sexist, I said "he" because I'm sure that a girl bear would not be so silly as to try something like that!). Although, I'm not sure what that bear is riding for (halibut perhaps??), he doesn't sound like he's giving up. And, fortunately, neither did I.

THE SWIM - The water was 59 degrees! The only colder race I've done was in 54 degree water, but that was a sprint, so I only spent about 15 minutes in the water at that one. This was over an hour. Regardless, the rest of the competitors made it very easy to forget about how cold the water was. That's because all 2300 of them were trying their hardest to drown me! This was by far the roughest swim I have ever been in. The water itself was relatively calm. The people were not! And with two loops, it never really opened up like the course at Arizona did. The course went out, made two left turns, and then straight back to shore to start the second lap. Because each segment was fairly short, and everyone wanted to hug the turn buoys (and drown me!), it was REALLY crowded for about 2 of the 2.4 miles. To top it off, I had no idea what my time was because my watch had been stopped at some point. I spent most of the day wondering what my actual swim time was, and being thankful that no one was successful in their repeated attempts to kick me in the face and drown me.

My Goal - 1:05
Lindsay's Guess - 1:10 ("but if the water's cold, it could slow you down a minute or two.")
Actual Time - 1:11:52

One other thing before we move on to the bike . . . the grass in the transition area is VERY slippery when your feet are numb and wet. And, guys, the volunteers REALLY don't want you running into the women's changing tent after the swim! Trust me, you will fall down if you try!

THE BIKE - After picking myself up off the ground, and finding the right changing tent, I managed to get in and out of T1 pretty quickly. Then it was on to the bike course. The first 10 miles or so is along the lake and is pretty fast. Then it turns North and slowly climbs out of town before getting to 20 miles or so of some fairly difficult rolling hills. I was out of the saddle a few times just to get up a couple of them. After the hills, the course goes back down for 10-15 miles to the end of the first loop. This section is a long gradual downhill, which I thought was going to be a great place to get my legs back under me for the second loop and to help prepare for the run in the last 15 miles of the route. However, the wind was blowing straight up the hill, which meant instead of cruising at 25+ mph, I was grinding it out at 18-20. This was actually the most difficult section of the entire course because of the wind, and partly because I was planning on it being the easiest section of the course. But you have to adjust to the conditions, and the best place to make up time on your competitors is when climbing and into a headwind ("everyone can go fast downhill and with the wind at their back!" Thanks, Lindsay). So I grinded it out at around 20 mph into the wind for about 40 minutes to finish the first loop. I ended up averaging 21 mph for the first loop, which was my goal for the entire race. I fell off pace on the second loop (and came out of the saddle on almost every climb -- somehow those "rolling hills" turned into mountains on the second loop!). I finished the bike in 5:36, "only" 16 minutes off my goal time.

My Goal - 5:20 (i.e., 21 mph)
Lindsay's Guess - "around 20 mph" (i.e., 5:36)
Actual Time - 5:36:21 (I think I should start trusting Lindsay more. Seriously, that's scary! Almost 7 hours into the day and she's off by 21 seconds?!)

THE RUN(s) - Yes, "Runs", but we'll get to that later. Started off strong. Ran the first mile in 7:30, then the usual leg cramping came. That happens when you have been riding that hard for that long and then you start running. It usually takes my quads a half mile or so to figure out how to run again. Sure enough, by the second mile marker, I was 15:10 into the run, and the cramping was gone . . . at least in my legs. I averaged 7:44 for the first 10k. Then I was forced to make my first of two stops in the port-a-pots. I spent 10-15 minutes total in port-a-pots over the next 5 miles. Hence, calling this section "THE RUN(s)." Yes, that is disgusting. And yes, I am childish. But that's the nicest way I can think of to describe what happened during those 15 minutes. After that, it's a little difficult to run strong again (excuse the pun, and my middle-schooler mentality). So I did some walking through the aid stations, and at the mile markers, and whenever the cramping returned, and up the steeper hills, until the last 5k.

THE LAST 5K - Like I've said before, I look for opportunities to test myself late in a race. In triathlons, they always write your age on the back of your calf so that you can tell who is in your age group while you're out there (which reminds me, at the CapTex in Austin, they also put the letter of your wave on your calf since you don't all start at the same time. I passed a girl on the run with "34 DD" written on the back of her leg. Again, I'm an immature middle-schooler, but I found that hilarious. And a little bit disturbing.). At Ironman events, they also print your name on your bib#. So you start to figure out late in the day who has been racing along side you all day long, and who you need to beat in order to place higher in your age group. Well, with less than 5k to go I start seeing lots of guys in my age group. One was "Matt from Boise" who was 31, and whom I had been going back and forth with since the early miles of the bike course. There were several others (one of which dropped us both in the last mile), but I felt like Matt would challenge me since we had seen each other all day. Sure enough, when I went by him, he stayed with me. We picked off several others the last two miles, but never caught the one guy that blew by us both. We were too far back for it to matter for a Kona spot. But holding off Matt from Boise definitely helped my confidence to know that I can "race" that late in an Ironman event. Of the 6 guys in my age group that were battling it out in the last 5k, I finished second. By 3 seconds.

It's unbelievable to me that you can start the day at edge of the water, swim for over an hour, bike for five and a half, go through the two transition areas, stop for unscheduled bathroom breaks, run for almost 4 hours, and finish 3 seconds ahead of the next person in your age group. It's amazing that a 10+ hour race can come down to just 3 seconds. Mere inches.

My Goal - 3:30 (i.e., 8 minute miles)
Lindsay's Guess - 3:20-3:30
Actual Time - 3:59:37 (I guess Lindsay didn't factor in my stubborn stomach.)
So I was off by 56 minutes for my "dream time." However, I was running strong before the stomach issues. I spent close to 15 minutes sitting in the port-a-pots. That slowed me down for the second half as well, which means I was definitely capable of running a 3:20-3:30 marathon. And really, who's going to question Lindsay's Guess when she was so close on the swim and bike? 10:15:23 took the last Kona slot in my age group. So without stomach issues, I'm around 15 minutes away from Kona. Mere inches.
Where can I find those inches? My first transition was good, my second should have been at least 2 minutes faster. I have no doubts that I can gain 15-20 minutes on the bike course next year. I know the course, and I'll be stronger. I didn't start to really ride to my potential in training this year until April. For next year, I'm starting this weekend. I have 51 weeks to find those inches.
People often ask me "what's next" after I finish an Ironman, as if it was a one time thing, and now it's time to move on. While it's easy to dwell on bad races for too long, it's just as easy to pridefully rest for too long after having a good race. Days can turn into weeks, weeks into months, and before you know it, you've lost fitness and almost have to start over. Even a BAD day at the Ironman is a GREAT day of training. About an hour after I finished the Ironman, Lindsay (genius that she is) sent me the following text message:
"Good work today Barry. Get some rest and hydrate. Let's catch up tomorrow to recap the race and begin preparing for the next!"
Exactly what I needed to hear. So, "what's next" for me is two more half ironmans and a marathon this year. Gotta find those inches!

Wednesday, June 18, 2008

The work is done . . .

Or "the hay is in the barn" as they say (who are "they" anyway? And why do they think they know everything?). Regardless, it's Ironman Week, and I'm ready to race!

I haven't updated the blog in a while. I intended to do lots of good posts regarding my last long run before the race (it was HOT!), and the 1:24 swim across Lake Ray Hubbard (it was ROUGH! Seriously, up to 3' swells! Thanks to Dee, Mason, and Tim for the kayak support. I think they worked as hard as we did in that choppy water!). But, alas, work got in the way of my fun time (I've got to come up with another excuse), and I didn't get it done.

This week has been especially tough mentally. I'm ready to race and I'm anxious to just get out of town and start preparing for Sunday. I'll feel much better once the canon goes off, but until then, I'm a little on edge.

Brian and Dee pick us up at 4:30 tomorrow morning to head to the airport. We fly out to Seattle, and then make the drive to Coeur d'Alene from there (I promised Dee we could stop at Starbuck's on the way out of town. Anyone know if they have those in Seattle?). I was invited to a breakfast with trisports.com on Friday morning, so Krisha and I will be going to that before the morning swim. Short bike ride after the swim, then pick up Ryno at the airport on Friday night. Saturday is another swim, and a short run. Then rest.

Thank you to everyone that has helped me get to this point this year. My wonderful, beautiful wife Krisha for always being so supportive of my training (even when "work gets in the way" of the rest of our lives together). Brian for keeping me company on all those long rides, and for the occasional slap to keep me from taking this stuff too seriously (I think you're going to have to start hitting harder, Brian. It's not sinking in!). Dee for letting Brian keep me company on all those long rides (almost done, Dee!). Lindsay at CTS for being the best coach ever! (You ROCK, Lindsay, even though sometimes I think you're trying to kill me!). Jason and Rockwall Cycling for ordering things for me even when they don't really carry them in the shop, and especially for providing me with a bike to ride while mine was being shipped to the race (I promise I'll pay you as soon as I get back to town!). All the guys at the Tri-ProSoap team for all their encouragement. Ryan for a great weekend of training in Boulder. Ross, Swanson, McGaffen, and all the rest of the guys that push (i.e., "punish") me on the Rockwall Cycling group rides (even though sometimes I KNOW you guys are all trying to kill me!). And everyone else who supports me in any way. Thanks. I could not do this without all of you!

I don't like to talk up goals too much in public before a race like this, so I'm not going to list them here. Let's just leave it at, "I hope to race that other Ironman event in October this year." We'll know on Sunday night (possibly not until Monday morning). If you want to keep track of my progress, there will be a link on http://www.ironmanlive.com/ on Sunday morning where you can track athletes. Be sure to keep up with Brian Young and Tim Glasson (first Ironman for TIM!!!) as well.

Am I ready? Yes. Can I go under 10 hours? Yes. Will I go under 10 hours? Stay tuned . . .

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