Congrats to Brooke!

One of our Tri-Prosoap team members, Brooke Rossman, qualified for the Boston Marathon last Sunday by running a 3:40:49 at the Dallas White Rock Marathon! Brooke had to run it no slower than 3:40:59 in order to qualify, which technically means she wasted 10 seconds worth of effort by finishing faster. But joking aside, with that 30+ wind in her face for most of the second half, she could have easily done a 3:30 in better conditions (or faster). Nice job, Brooke!! Can't wait to see you in Boston!!

You can read her story and follow her progress as she prepares for Boston at http://www.brooketoboston.com/.

Congrats also to all the Tri-Prosoap members that finished the Marathon. Billy and Chase are pictured above with Brooke. Jason, Michael, and Dian also ran with pride. You can check out all of their stories at the Tri-Prosoap Blog.

Anyone who has ever run a marathon or ever wants to run a marathon should go check out all their stories. After having run five myself, I can honestly say that I have experienced EVERY single thing that each of them discussed. From Jason's mid-run weight loss secrets, to Billy's emotions at the starting line, to Chase's hammies and calves cramping as he was trying to keep moving toward the finish. But what stood out the most to me were Michael's thoughts immediately after the race. I think every time I have finished a marathon I've said "Never Again" at the finish line. But after a few days (sometimes even just a few minutes) I start to think, "that wasn't so bad. I can do that again. I wonder how much faster I could go if . . . " And so it begins again.

Congrats again to all!

Turkeys Trotting

It has been a tradition in my family for many many years to run the annual YMCA Dallas Turkey Trot every Thanksgiving morning. It's actually my favorite running event in Dallas, and was also one of my first. With everyone spread out across the country, this is the one event of the year that everyone has always been in Dallas for. And that has meant that it's the one time of the year that my entire family goes and competes at the same event at the same time, whether we are prepared for the 8 miles or not. Thankfully, tomorrow will be no exception.

As I've mentioned before, everyone in my immediate family is a runner. My dad has been running since running wasn't cool. Mom started several years ago and hasn't slowed down yet. My sister is a former Texas High School State Champion in the two mile and runner up in the mile. My wife runs, her sister runs, my sister's husband runs, and even the little ones begged to run the three mile event this year.

So tomorrow we will all toe the line once again and remember the things that we are all thankful for. For me, this year I am most thankful for my dad's ability to run. Even though he is having to settle with "only" doing the three mile event this year, that's three more miles than the doctor recently told him he would ever be able to run again. He has a ways to go before he can run another marathon, or even as fast as he would like to run 3 miles. But for now, just finishing three miles is his own personal marathon.

Never underestimate your ability to influence others around you to run/bike/swim/whatever. And you never know how far it will go. My dad ran. So my sister ran. So I ran. So my wife ran, and her sister ran. And my sister's husband ran. And finally, my mom ran (and to this day is the most dedicated of all of us!). Eventually, all of dad's grandchildren will likely run as well. I don't know where the chain will stop. But there's no doubt where it began. Thank you, dad, for always inspiring us to reach beyond our potential, and to go further than any of us thought was possible. You are truly an inspiration. And thank you, especially, for teaching us to run.

Be thankful this week for your ability to train and race. And think about that the next time you don't feel like training or racing. Seeing my dad deal with an injury that the doctors can't seem to fix has made me really think about the fact that someday I won't be able to do this anymore. People often ask me why I do Ironman events. Why do I swim, bike, and run as much as I do? Why do I put myself though that?

Because someday I won't be able to. But today is not that day. Today, I can run. Today, I can hurt and keep moving. Today, I can push myself beyond my comfort level. And for that, I am thankful.

Happy Thanksgiving.

Injury Prevention at Tri Pro Soap

The team I race for, Tri-Pro Soap, has asked me to post some articles on the team site regarding injury prevention. I'll put the links here whenever I post on that site. Please check it out, and be sure to support Pro Soap!

http://tri-prosoap.blogspot.com/2008/11/injury-prevention-part-1-consistency-is.html

The "t-sip" Ironman 70.3

“Patience is a virtue.”

I’ve heard that all my life. And if that’s true, then I must not be all that “virtuous” because patience is something I have never had. I also think several of my readers are not very virtuous based on their comments to me recently! Many of you have told me that you are “running out of patience” in waiting on me to publish another post. I appreciate your patience (or your virtuosity??), and I apologize for the delay. It’s been a busy month.

So back to me and my patience (or lack thereof). I think that has been a problem for me in my endeavors as an endurance athlete. Lack of patience has been the fall of many an Ironman and even many more marathoners. I believe that lack of patience is what causes us to go out too fast, or speed up too early, and then blow up at the end of a race. It’s not always a lack of endurance or a lack of preparation. It’s often a lack of patience.

So as I thought about my approach to the “t-sip” Ironman 70.3 (i.e., the Longhorn 70.3, for you non-Aggies) this past weekend, I decided that because my run has been solid lately, I would be patient on the swim, patient on the bike, and then see if I could put up a solid run time. As you will see, I followed the plan, but came up a little short on the “solid run” goal.

I have had trouble since June with my swimming. Like a lot of athletes, in the pool, I’m fine. But put me in a race, and my times have been up to 30 seconds per hundred slower than in training. That’s a hard pill to swallow, especially when you would win the overall if you just had an average swim! This has been the most frustrating thing about this race season for me. I’m spotting all the top players several minutes, and for me, that’s unacceptable. This will be a focus this off-season.

After thinking more about it, Lindsay and I decided that maybe I was just trying too hard to be fast in the swim. I was starting in the front, fighting with the fast swimmers, getting out of breath early, and thus shortening my stroke for the rest of the swim. So for this race, I decided to just take it easy, focus on my stroke, and . . . be patient. I started off to the side, and just let everyone go. But strangely, I realized that I was not getting dropped like I usually do. And I never lost my breath. My official time was just over 29 minutes. By FAR my fastest time for a swim in a half-Ironman. Yes, the general consensus is that the swim was 3-5 minutes short. But even on the high end of that estimate, that’s about the fastest I’ve ever swam 1.2 miles. Hmm, perhaps patience IS a virtue.

On to the bike. Like most of my longer races, I spent the first 10-15 miles focusing on getting fluids and calories in and just settling in to a solid pace, but not overdoing it by any means. I was in one of the last waves to start so I was passing A LOT of people early on in the bike. I spent most of the ride just telling myself to take it easy and be patient. When I lose patience, or get antsy, I end up speeding up and not leaving myself enough for a fast run. So I was patient. And aside from dropping my chain on a short climb (I actually came to a complete stop since I was climbing at the time—cost me a little time, but no need to panic), there’s not much to report on the bike. Yes, it was windy (we are in Texas!), but I managed to remain patient throughout the ride and finished in 2:32 (22 mph).

Moment of truth. Time to run. As usual, coming out of T2 I felt great. I still had to be patient, though, because 13.1 miles is too far for me to go all out right out of the gate. Plus, I ALWAYS get cramps in my lower quads about a mile in to the run of a half or full Ironman. My strategy is to hold back until the cramping comes, endure it for about half a mile until it finally goes away, and then settle into a pace that is a little faster than I feel like I can hold for 11 more miles. The first mile came and went, and I was running right at 7:00 pace. Then, right on time, my legs cramped. No worries, I’ve been through this in every long course race I’ve ever done. I think it takes your legs a couple of miles to get used to running after a long effort on the bike. If you can run through it, though, it will go away. And sure enough, by the second mile marker, all was well. Time to settle in.

I was cruising along trying to figure out if I should pick it up or remain patient when Lisa Bentley (the eventual women’s pro winner) went by me. Up to this point, no one had passed me and I was blowing by people. It makes it hard to pace properly when all your doing is passing everyone. I find it easier to work harder when someone is there to help push me along, or when someone is in front of me that I’m trying to catch. When Lisa went by I decided to run with her. I picked it up a bit, but she slowly pulled away. The first four miles were on black asphalt and were one long climb and descent after another. Lisa was dropping me on every descent, but on the climbs, I would slowly reel her in. However, by the end of the 4th mile, she had pulled away.

The last 2.5 miles of the loop is on a dirt trail. That was nice except for the sandy parts, which make you feel like you’re running in slow motion. Regardless, it was MUCH cooler on that part of the course, and it really helped break the course up into small sections that are much more manageable than a 13.1 mile run without any change of scenery. About 4.5 miles in, Pip Taylor (another pro who would finish 2nd behind Lisa) came by me. I had someone else to pace off of! I told her that Lisa was not too far ahead, but I could tell by the pace that she was not going to catch her. Pip told me that Lisa had passed her a couple of miles back, so I knew she wasn’t interested in chasing her down. I followed her for half a mile or so and then just before the hill they call “Quadzilla” I went around her. The top of Quadzilla (which I didn’t think was as bad as the rollers in the first four miles) was the 5 mile marker. I hit my watch and saw 36:11. Not too bad, but I’m slowing down from the 7:05 pace I had averaged through three miles.

The last 1.5 miles of the loop were fast. It was slightly downhill, and before I knew it, I was finished with the first loop, and back on the HOT black asphalt for 4 miles of quad killing (and morale killing) rollers! To be honest, I don’t remember much of the second lap. I think my brain shut off and I just went into auto-drive. I remember the 10 mile marker. And I remember realizing that my split for the second five miles was slower than the first (39:12, or 7:50 pace). I remember thinking that if I could just go under 30 minutes for the last 5k, that I would break 4:50. I remember Krisha yelling at me that “PAIN IS TEMPORARY!!” just as I started the last 5k. And I definitely remember feeling like the second time up Quadzilla was MUCH harder than the first. But the details of that last loop are not in my brain. I guess it was painful.

I ran the last 5k in 23:57 (which included the shuffling up Quadzilla), for a final run time of 1:39:18 (5 minutes slower than what I was hoping for), and an overall time of 4:46:20. Only good enough for 9th place in my very competitive age group, and 46th overall male.

The best news of the day was that I earned a spot in the Ironman 70.3 World Championships at Clearwater next year! Speaking of Clearwater . . . I checked the results from 2007. There were 156 finishers in my age group. To finish in the top 50% took a 4:35. Seriously! 4:35 was only good enough for 78th place in my age group! My 4:46 would have put me in 102nd. I realize it’s a different/faster/flatter course. But that’s unbelievable. I’ve definitely got work to do!

Qualifying for Clearwater has done a few things for me. First, it’s reinforced that patience is key in long course racing. Second, it’s made me more confident that I belong in the top 10 in major/national races. I’ve always felt like I could do it, but this is the first time I actually have. I’m finally over that hump, which brings me to the third thing this race has done for me. I am more motivated than ever to earn a Kona spot. And now, for the first time, I truly believe that I am capable of doing it. And I don’t want to wait any longer! I have run out of patience.

My goals for 2007 included proving to myself that finishing an Ironman was possible. Check. In 2008, I wanted to prove to myself that I was capable of qualifying for Kona. Check. Next year . . . .

Back to the Basics

Whenever a sports team gets in a slump, you always hear the coaches talk about how they need to get back to the fundamentals of their sport. NBA players do the same dribbling, passing, and shooting drills that we all did in middle school. Whenever a MLB player is in a hitting slump, the coach always says, "he's just got to get back to the fundamentals of hitting." Jack Nicklaus, the great golfing legend, used to start every season by "learning" how to grip the golf club. You don't get much more basic than that for a golfer.

Personally, I've been running a lot longer than I've been swimming or biking. I come from a family of runners. My dad was runner long before it became cool in the 70s. My older sister was a Texas High School State Champion in the two mile, and was the runner-up in the mile. So when my season wasn't going the way I had hoped it would, I decided that I just needed to get back to the fundamentals of triathlon. For me, that's running.

So I ran the Labor Day 15K in Dallas yesterday. I planned on just running around 6:50 or so (my hopeful marathon pace) and then seeing what I had left for the last 5k. I ran the first two miles in 13:30 (i.e., 6:45 pace). My legs felt really heavy, tired, and slow from all the training recently. But I stuck with the pace and noticed that there was one guy in a green shirt that was way ahead of everyone and then a group of 5 guys that were only about 10 seconds ahead of me. I thought about bridging the gap so that I could just sit in with them and compete for second. But I decided to just be patient and let them come back to me. About that time, my legs started to come around, and I ran that next mile a little harder than the first two. I hit the 5k mark in 20:30 (6:37 pace per mile).

Slowly, I started picking off the stragglers as they were dropped from the group of 5. I caught all but one of them by the turnaround (which was just a little shy of half way). I wasn't sure that I could catch that last guy. He looked stronger than the rest of the group from the beginning, and I could tell that he was the one setting the pace that broke everyone else in the group. I decided that I would just hold my current pace (which had slowed a little) and just see what happens. I'm ok with 3rd.

There was a guy on a bicycle that had been riding to each mile marker and calling out times. At about the 5 mile mark, he rode up next to me. Our conversation went like this:

Bike Guy: "Looking strong. You're in second place?"
Me: "No, third. There's a guy up there with no shirt. He's in second."
Bike Guy: "Are you thinking of the guy in green?"
Me: "Yes."
Bike Guy: "Well, that guy's not part of the race. So actually, you're in second."
Me: "Really?! I guess I better go after him then. You realize, you just made my morning a whole lot more difficult?"

We both laughed, I thanked him and decided to see if I could catch the leader. I was running considerably slower than 6:00 miles, and yet, I was still within striking distance of the win. Apparently no one super fast had shown up to race the Labor Day 15K. Still, a win's a win. It's funny to me how my motivation to catch one more person changed just because I now knew that no one was in front of him. Like I said, I'm ok with 3rd. But I'm not ok with 2nd!

I decided to not let the leader get any further ahead of me, and I would pick it up at the 10k mark. I hit the 10k mark in 41:08 (making my second 5k, 20:38, or 6:39 pace).

Ok, time to chase him down. I sped up again, and was running right next to him when we hit the 7 mile marker. As most competitors will do, when I caught up to him, he matched my pace in order to stay with me. At first, I thought I would just sit with him and wait to attack later on. But I figured that I already had him a little worried, so I should attack now, while his confidence is a little shaken. If I wait, he may decide that he can run with me. Besides, there were only 2.3 miles left. What was I waiting on? So I attacked. Hard. I sped up enough for him to know that I intended on dropping him. He responded at first, but by the time I made it to a turn where I could look back, I could barely see him anymore. I ran the last 5k in 20:17 (6:32 pace - my fastest of the three 5ks).

My total time was 1:01:19 (overall average: 6:35 per mile). That's a little slower than I feel like I should be running a 15k right now if I want to go under 3 hours in a marathon this fall. But I started the race tired, and I only decided to really "race" after 2/3 of the race had already been run. Regardless, I am happy with my effort, my patience, and my strategy against the other runners. I'm also really happy with my running right now. I could have easily run further and faster than I did. For how long, or how fast, I don't know. But I think this is the best I've felt running in September, well, ever. That's a good feeling leading into the Longhorn 70.3 in a month, and a marathon in December.

Perhaps I'll have a couple of good races this year after all.

Trying to Put it All Together

This has been a tough year for me for racing so far. I overdid it on the bike and cramped on the run at a Half Ironman in April. I had the worst swim of my life at the Cap Tex Olympic distance race in Austin in May. My stomach didn’t cooperate during Ironman Coeur d’Alene in June, which cost me lots of time on the run. I flatted out during the 5430 and had my first DNF in Boulder in August. And I had another bad swim two weeks ago at the Arkansas State Championships that cost me an age group win and a fourth place overall. Each of those races had good elements. My swim was good in April and at the Ironman. My bike was good at the Ironman and the Cap Tex (actually, my biking has been pretty solid all year). And since the mishaps at the Ironman, I’ve been pretty happy with my running, especially my effort. I just haven’t quite been able to put all three together yet this year. Which brings me to last Sunday . . .

Sunday was the Rockwall Sprint Triathlon, which I do every year, but only because it’s local. And by “local,” I mean, it’s less than 5 minutes from my house. Even though I swore off all races produced by Ironhead (i.e., Jack Weiss) long ago, I still do this one so that I can support the local community. Never again until it is run by someone with some common sense.

The Swim – This is a pool swim so you are seeded according to swim time. I was number 27. I was glad that Cooper (one of the Tri-Prosoap members) was one person in front of me instead of one person behind me so that I wouldn't slow him down. Oddly enough, this was the first time I've ever done a pool swim and not been held up by the person in front of me. Thanks, Coop! 4:44 for a 300. Not my best swim, but not my worst either. 14 seconds slower than I had anticipated.

My transitions were pretty much right where I expected. I generally figure about a minute for T1 and 30 seconds for T2 depending on how long the run to my bike is. I ended up with 58 seconds and 29 seconds, respectively. For those of you that don't practice transitions, you should start! The shorter the race, the more important they become. Just think of the time you make up on the run because of transitions alone. 30 seconds spread over the two transitions is 10 seconds a mile on the run. Transitions are your enemy! Every second you spend in there is wasted time. Practice them often. Every time I get on or off my TT bike, I am flying on or off. If you do a brick workout, use that as an opportunity to practice transitions.

The Bike - I knew that several of the Prosoap team were up ahead of me so it really motivated me to work hard to try and catch them. However, as usual for a race this short, I felt like crap the first 10 minutes or so. Right out of the gate two guys went by me in a two-man paceline of sorts. Seriously, who cheats in a 14 mile time trial? The best part is that they kept looking back to make sure there weren't any officials around. Pathetic. One of those guys is someone I have looked up to for a long time because he was so fast. I think he’s even competed in Kona before. I lost a lot of respect for him on Sunday. And for what? A fast sprint race? Nice job.

I eventually caught up to Coop (who was also a witness to the drafting), who then passed me back about 5 minutes later. He was looking REALLY strong when he went by me so I figured he was gone. But I reeled him back in before too long. I know he's a strong runner, so I dug down to try and put a little distance between us in case I needed it to hold him off on the run. Still, I figured we would be fighting it out for the rest of the race. Toward the end I got a little more energy when I realized that I could see our fearless leader, Billy, in the distance. I didn't catch him until just before the last turn before T2. It wasn't until later that I realized he had beaten me in the swim by a minute! Come on, Billy! That's ridiculous! You beat me by a minute in a 300 yard swim?!?! I'm not even going to look to see how bad Chase beat me. When are you guys going to hold a Tri-Prosoap swim clinic to help us slow pokes out? My bike time was 35:59, or 23.3 mph. A little slower than I would have liked, but considering how awful I felt at the beginning, not too bad.


The Run - Felt strong right out of the gate. First mission, track down those cheaters! I caught them less than an mile into it. I generally like to speed up a bit when I pass someone, but in a race that short, if you can speed up, you aren't running hard enough. So I just flew by both of them and kind of chuckled to myself that they aren't quite as tough to drop when they can't help each other by drafting. About that time, the first person went by me going the other direction. Then another, and one more, and then Chase. A quick high five, and then the turn around. I went from starting in 27th position on 10 second intervals to being the 4th person running to the finish. But could I catch Chase?


I felt as good as I ever feel at this point in a race. Sprints are so different than any other distance. There's really no strategy other than to go as hard as you possibly can until you hit the finish line. I had run 6:02 pace the weekend before at DeGray, which is mostly uphill for the first half of the run. So I knew I could go under 6 minute miles if things went well. Unfortunately, I missed the turn to the finish with about 200 yards to go. I pretty much figured it out immediately, so I stopped and looked around to try and figure out where to go to get back on track. Then a guy running the other direction told me that everyone was going "back that way" and pointed toward Chase. So I trotted it in the rest of the way, frustrated, and not running very hard. I jumped the caution tape and crossed the finish line about the same time as Chase.

I don't really know how fast I would have finished, but my pace was just under 5:50 up to the point where I stopped running to figure out where I was. Based on that, I should have finished the run just under 17 minutes flat, which would have put me finishing around 59:10. 10 seconds slower than I had hoped for (remember those 14 seconds on the swim?). And enough for second overall and first in my age group. But who knows what it really would have been.


Jack hunted me (and Chase) down to yell at us for “cutting the course” even though we ran significantly further than we were supposed to since his course was so poorly marked, and he had no volunteers out there to direct traffic. He tried to disqualify us, but the head ref decided to just give us a 2 minute penalty since we in no way cheated. I’m not sure why Jack Weiss is so hateful. I won’t go into too much detail in this forum about what happened other than to say that I had little respect for the man before this race, and his actions at the finish were just inexcusable. I have gotten off course three times in my life. All three were at Jack Weiss races. I have never complained about it to anyone other than my wife and family. But he comes to me yelling at me and calling me “STUPID, GD STUPID” because I “can’t follow his clearly marked signs.” Me and about 30 others according to the head ref, Jack. I’m done with his races. It’s unfortunate because the Rockwall Kiwanis is a great group and this race is really for them, not Jack. But I am now joining the throngs of others that refuse to support anything that he is involved with.

Ending this post on a positive . . . It was a lot of fun hanging out with all the Tri-Prosoap guys. I don’t get to race with them very often since I do more long course stuff and therefore don’t race as often as a lot of them do. I hope to get to race with them more. It was a lot of fun getting cheered on by so many other competitors. It seemed like there was always someone yelling encouragement at me. It’s nice to have a team in what is usually a very lonely sport. Thanks, guys. I’m really proud to wear the Tri-Prosoap jersey; to represent you guys and the great companies that sponsor us. I just wish that jersey or those sponsors could make me swim like Chase and Billy!

Ryan's First Race; My First DNF

Well, I’ve delayed writing about this long enough. Yes, I DNF’d (i.e., “Did Not Finish”) in Boulder last weekend. This was the first time I have ever dropped out of a race. It was heartbreaking. I felt much better on the bike than I expected to since I had been sick for so long leading up to this race. The first 8 miles of the bike course are the hardest. It’s mostly uphill, and you feel like you should be going much faster than you are. I know that about this course, so I was telling myself to back off the entire time. I was feeling very relaxed, the pace was effortless, I was averaging well over 20mph and getting ready to pick that WAY up, when all of a sudden PSHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!! And my back tire was flat. I don’t carry a spare tire (I race on tubulars so just a tube isn’t enough — you need another tire when you have a flat) in anything shorter than an Ironman. So my day was done. Almost.

This bothered me a lot more than I expected it to. I think the culmination of all the “bad races” I’ve had this year are starting to drag on me. I keep thinking all it will take is one good race to get me back on track for the season. As good as I was feeling on the bike, I thought that could have been the day that it all came together. But it wasn’t meant to be. Instead of flying into T2 and running my legs off, I rode on the back of a motorcycle holding onto my bike with one arm and the driver with the other (not an easy feat with a disc wheel dragging behind us like a sail!), and standing around waiting on Ryan to finish the bike course. When he came through, I still had my race number, so I ran with him.

Ryan did AWESOME in his first triathlon! 5:14 and change is solid for anyone doing a half Ironman, much less someone doing their FIRST half-Ironman! And this was his first TRIATHLON! I’ll let him tell you more about it. I decided with a few miles to go that I would bust out the last several on my own. Ryan was struggling, so I stayed with him until mile 11 and then ran under 6:30 pace to the finish. That felt great considering I had been on my feet all day with little to eat. Makes me wonder what could have been . . . .

Still, overall, it was a good day. Disappointing in one respect, but I wouldn’t trade the experience of running with Ryan during his first race. I will have many other opportunities to race well in a half-ironman. I will never get another chance to run with Ryan during his first race. Call it a silver lining or a blessing in disguise, but I will always cherish that flat tire. I always knew that he would be good at this. It just took me 4 years to convince him to try it. I think he’s hooked! Welcome to the club, Ry!

Krisha and I (and my parents and John) are heading to Arkansas this weekend for the Arkansas State Championships. It’s a sprint distance race, and I plan on making up for last weekend. Regardless of the outcome, anytime I get to race with my wife and my 62 year-old dad, it’s a good day!