My biggest journey….An Ironman with a purpose

My biggest journey….An Ironman with a purpose

When I first started doing triathlons in 2007, my focus was finishing with a smile.  Never in my wildest imagination did the idea of an Ironman cross my mind.  I liked doing shorter races (sprint and Olympic distances) …then did some half iron distances and enjoyed it.  I was challenged, and satisfied.  Triathlons offered me a new network of friends,  helped me to become a certified triathlon coach and presented me an opportunity to become very active with the Challenged Athletes Foundation (CAF).  Why in the world would I want/need to put myself though 10-months of training? An Ironman was for real triathletes…for strong, skinny people…for people who were basically not me.  But things change.

Life throws you curve balls.  My curve ball came in August 2011 when my father passed away somewhat suddenly.  In truth, my world was shaken – not knowing what side was up and what was down.  Besides my family, the only thing that kept me grounded was my training.  Many of my father’s friends told me how proud he was of my athletic accomplishments.  I was never into high school or collegiate sports, so the idea of my father calling me a “jock” (his words) was pretty funny to me.  Hearing how much my father admired my racing “career” pushed me to make the decision to push myself further and harder than even I could imagine. Now, close to six years after I first crossed my first triathlon finish line, on June 23, 2013, I will be participating in an Ironman. 

I am participating to honor my father and to give back to others.   I have a great coach and a solid support network (many who are making the trip to Coeur d’Alene Idaho with me).  And I am trying to raise $10,000 for CAF and continue to support athletes with a physical disability – especially those wounded while in uniform -- pursue active lifestyles through physical fitness.’

I am asking for your support in making my Ironman even more significant by helping challenged athletes achieve their goals.  Your financial support will go a long way in changing someone’s life.

Please click here to make a donation.  While any amount is appreciated, you can also “sponsor” a portion of my race which corresponds to part of the Ironman course.  For example, your donation can be $112 (miles on the bike), $26.2 (miles I will need to run), $140.6 (entire distance in miles of the race), $1,020 (the total time, in minutes, I have to complete the race – that is 17 hours for those doing quick math) or any increment thereof. 

Visit the blog which will be updated during certain milestones between now and race day.

Thanks in advance for your support.  

Accenture U.S. Paratriathlon National Championships

The race is only a few days away.  This is going to be our best events to date.  Although some of my friends are missing it (Sarah, JP, Matt, Tommy, Paul, and Chief Winger Mr. Beeson), we have a great crew racing this weekend and a cadre of volunteers.

We also got some good media attention today in a profile George Gallego in the New York Daily News (ok, I have a small profile too). 

More updates after the race. 

A few new Ironmen - and Iron-ladies

This past weekend, I had the good fortune of watching a handful of friends compete (and complete) the 2011 Ironman Lake Placid.  It was an amazing weekend with a lot of cheering, laughing, and some recovery workouts.  Congrats to all the new Iron-people (Rev, Margarita, Brad, Danny, Susan, Matt, Cassie, Michelle) and well as those "veterans" (Meg, Kate, James) and countless others. 

From the top of The Bears, to the AGTC Cheering Squad at IGA Hill, it was a blast. 

Check out some pics from this weekend.  http://www.facebook.com/#!/media/set/?set=a.10150323923180802.390886.573745801

Vineman 70.3 - There really are that many vineyards?

Anne Ronzoni, my friend, fellow traveler, and teammate said it best, "with this many vineyards, no wonder we have a drinking problem in the U.S."  Vineman - my third 70.3  (half-iron distance) experience was a blast.  Since the beginning of 2011,  I have raced over 200-miles in five triathlons, plus another 50+/- during road races.  But this by far was the best experience this year.  Technical, challenging, yet fair and a new PR for me.  I left it all out there (throughout the Sonoma region of Northern CA) and had an amazing swim and bike (thanks to the swim lessons and new race wheels), but had issues on the run.  Goes to show you that you need to keep up training for all three disciplines and not slack on one of them as your weakness will be exposed in the end.

Warning Label:  For those new readers to my race reports, do not expect a straight forward accounting of the race.  This is more like a tale of a triathlon from my viewpoint.  It can be long in places, so if you're not ready for the journey, close your browser now.  

Travel Days...
I flew to San Francisco on Thursday morning (partially to get to the Valley to see old work friends from Orrick (great seeing you Melissa and Ann, sorry Frank, Ashley and others could not join us), but also to be on the ground to troubleshoot a client event (thanks Ashley and Lee for managing this one for me) taking place in NYC and NJ.  Randi Gordon (another friend and teammate) joined me later that day and finally Anne arrived after a delayed and diverted flight.  Friday, we did some quick sightseeing in San Francisco, had a great breakfast and a shopping spree in Ghiradelli's Square, picked up a borrowed Bike Rack from Allison Caccoma and Alan Shanken and headed up to Windsor, CA to prepare for our race.  

Anne, Randi and I decided to use a bike travel service and send out bikes ahead of time, so we did not have the stress of flying out with, and transporting three bikes with us.  We get to the Hampton Inn  (cannot say enough good things about this hotel), go to the river for a trial swim (I also did a quick 25-min run to get the legs moving), drove the bike course (more on that later), checked in with Tara Rasch, a friend also competing, who flew out on my flight with her mother) and settled in for the night after a great meal at Johnny Garlic's (see pictures on Facebook).  

Vineman is a point-to-point race - meaning that our swim-bike transition (T1) is located at a different place than our bike-run transition (T2).  This required us to prepare our T2 the day before so that we went straight to the swim start on Sunday morning.  This arrangement also required us to pack all of our stuff in a supplied plastic bag immediately upon exiting the water (the bag had our race number on it) so that they can transport it to the finish line.  So on Saturday, we registered, prepared our T2 spots, picked up our bikes, went for a quick test ride packed for our race, chilled at the hotel before a quick meal, alarms set, wake-up call requested and bed...

Sunday...(Race Morning)
1:30am I hear a buzzing sound...Anne accidentally set her alarm (never trust an amateur) to NY time and not CA time.  Oops...we have at least three more hours to sleep.  4:15am wake-up call comes in.  I get up, get some coffee downstairs (another reason to love the Hampton Inn is that they had breakfast/coffee for all athletes (and spectators) at 4:30am (a rarity for a hotel), hop in the shower and prepare for the day ahead.  5:10am we're in the car with bikes and head to the swim start.  Normally, I like to get to the transition area in plenty of time to rack my bike, set up my gear and do some mental and physical preparation.  Normally, we have a designated area (set aside by actual race #) to set up our bikes & stuff.   However, the Vineman race organizers only had racks set aside by swim wave - it was a first-come/serve situation at the racks.  By the time we found parking and walked to the swim start, I was a bit pressed for time.  It did not help matters that my plastic bag broke on the way to the start, so some of my mental energy was spent trying to solve this issue (turns out the volunteers mend any bag before bringing it to the transition area).  I hear the pros go off (~ 6:45am) which means I have less than 15 mins to get settled and into the water before my wave goes off at 7:02am.  I check everything, pack what I can into the T1 bag, find Randi and wish her luck (I cannot locate Anne and Tara has started her race),  hope for the best and head to the water.

Typically I like to start the swim near the back of the crowd and find open water.  However, Earl Walton (a/k/a the swim god from my prior post) told me that I should actually start near the front, go strong for the first few mins and then get some open water.  Ok Earl, you're the pro at this....The horn (I think it was a horn) sounded, I start my Garmin and start to swim.  Never being near the front means that I never really experienced the washing machine that is a swim start.  Arms, feet,  bodies all collide as we all jockey for position and try and find open water.  I am in the mix of things and keep feeling fellow racers on all sides, in front of me and especially annoying on my feet -- trying to draft off of me (get the hell off).  I find some open water and start swimming.  Russian River is clean, mostly visible, but very shallow.  So shallow that at time you can actually feel the bottom of the river.  I try and stay on course - sighting every few strokes.  Whenever my mind wonders, I go off course...so by focusing on counting strokes and my swim cadence (how often I am taking a stroke), I tend not to do zig-zags.  I see the turn-around buoy and see fellow swimmers walking...seriously?  I turn around the buoy and keep swimming until I am scrapping the bottom of the river.  Ok I stand up (might as well do a quick time check - 19 mins), dive in take a few strokes and repeat until I am able to swim without hitting bottom.  I decide then to pick up speed and just go for it.  I start to pass a bunch of others in my wave (white swim caps) and catch up to a few in prior waves (blue and green caps), when the swim exit appears.  That seemed quick....holy shit it was - 1.2 miles done in 34 mins (a 5 min improvement over Timberman's swim).

I just out of the water and go to T1 only to go right when my bike was racked to the left.  Finally I find my bike, strip off my wetsuit, pack my T1 bag, get on my compression socks, helmet, sunglasses, bike shoes and grab Malibu and take off.  One leg down, two to go...

When we drove the 56-mile bike course on Friday, we noticed a lot of technical turns, a few straight aways, two challenging climbs, but mostly fair rolling hills and beautiful scenery.  We suspected it was going to be an amazing ride and it was. The bike started off with a quick somewhat steep climb from the beach to the road which I decided to walk up (my heart rate would have been too high to start the ride otherwise).  At the top, I hop aboard for what I suspect will be close to a 3.5 hour ride.

The first 5 miles were mostly flat which gave me a chance to test the new wheels.  Immediately I feel the difference and start to pass a bunch of people.  Hey, riding can be fun finally.  At mile 5, there was a quick and very technical down slope and turn, which I made sure to take easily (I am not having a repeat of South Beach ever again) followed by about 12 miles of rolling hills through perhaps the best scenery in triathlons.  As we pass vineyard after vineyard, I keeping remembering what Anne said about the amount of wine produced and am amazed.  On one side of the road we have a vista of mountains and blue sky and on the other fields full of grapes getting ready for harvest.  But I am not here to sight see, but to ride.  At least the next 3+ hours will have a nice view....

I am actually amazed how well I am riding.  Perhaps it's the new wheels, perhaps the amount of work I did on the bike during the pre- and training season is paying off (finally) or perhaps it's a combination of both, but I am rolling along, keeping my HR in check (mid Zone 2), a high cadence and a decent speed.  Despite being passed by the "fast kids" I am actually passing people (a lot of them).  The miles keep going by and while I do need to stretch once and while (staying in an aero position for a while can begin to ache), I am feeling great.  By driving the course before, we knew there were a few "hills" which would require getting into my small ring (easy gear) and scooting up the hills.  Yes, my HR would spike, but that would only be for a short period and I would be able to recover after on a flat or a downhill.  Still having fun riding, watching the landscape, I am being tactical - getting aggressive for quick bursts to pass people, yet doing it in a safe way (safety first).  One thing I focused on was nutrition -- making sure I take in not only enough fluids, but also some solid food and gels -- all to be sure I don't bonk on the run.  On schedule, I take a shot of my EFS gel (tastes like vanilla pudding) every 40-minutes, take liquids as needed and take half of my mojo bar at the mid-way point.

Another warning:  Triathletes speak candidly about bodily fluids, so if you're not comfortable reading about this, skip the next paragraph.  


During Timberman and Nola, while I was drinking enough fluids, I had some slight discomfort as I needed to pee, but was not able to do this on the bike (I did not want to get off the bike, find a porta-potty and try and get back on as my legs may not move again).  While I tried peeing while riding several times during training, I simply was not able to go.  Mile 35 was approaching and as I grabbed a bottle of Gatorade from the aid station (a few sips and I toss it back to the volunteers), I knew my bladder would not hold for another 20-miles.  I had to figure out how to pee...now.  I focus, relax my bladder and concentrate....success!  Just like being a toddler all over again, learning to pee on the bike is a big thing  and now that I know I can do it, am happy (yes, we triathletes also celebrate the small things).

The last hill on the ride at mile 45 is a bitch.  While not as hard as ones in other races (certainly not as hard as Rev3) or on training rides, it is a steep one covering 3/4 a mile.  Time for the small chain ring again.  Time to hunker down, focus on strong, quick pedal strokes and not to get my HR too high.  The crowd on this hill is great - they cheer us on step by step as we go up...and up...and up.  I crest the hill and know that with single digits left, the end of the bike leg is near.  Miles 46-54 are a blur.  A few more rollers, a few more competitors passed...Mile 55, I start to get my foot out of my bike shoe and lay it on top of the pedal...I see the crowd cheering as others are on the run course.  Time check.  Approx. 3:09 on the bike (excellent, this is a +20 min improvement from Timberman and + 10 from Nola) with a total time of under 4 hours (unless something horrible happens, I am going to have an excellent day).  I dismount and run to my T2 spot.  What the hell.  Some ass parked their bike in my spot.  I move his bike over so I can park Malibu, grab my sneakers, CAF visor (always do a race with something CAF related), a sip of water and head out for the next 13.1 mile leg; but first another bathroom stop.

Out of T2 and onto the run, I am in pain, but not incredible pain.  It started to get hot as it's closing in on mid-day.  The game plan for this leg was to keep a moderate pace for the first few miles to get my running legs back and then do whatever I can after.  I do best when I follow a run/walk pattern to make sure my HR doesn't go off the charts, yet I am not shuffling.  So I run walk, run walk.  A teammate who did this race in prior years told me the run was like the West Side Rollers in Central Park.  Well from my view point, they were just that, but on acid.  My hamstring and quad start to ache, so decide to walk up the hills (a strained hamstring after Ragnar was incredibly painful).  Up the hills...running at a good clip (probably a 8-min mile) when I can followed by a 15-min pace walk.  I am definitely feeling my training - or lack thereof - now (focusing on the swim and ride paid off, but now am in trouble).  I am focused...mile by mile I go.  Mile 4 was a climb and as a crew of volunteers cheer us to run up the hill, I say "screw that" (PG version of what I actually said)  and walk up.  Cresting the hill, I start running into La Crema Vineyards ( a race sponsor) into their orchards (if that's what the grapes are called) on a dirt path (the course changed this year...in prior years they ran around some fountain), which is a nice relief and pick off a few fellow racers.  As much as I wanted to grab the grapes directly from the vines,  a nice bottle of chilled vino would be in my hands soon enough.

I hit the mid-way point (6.65 miles) and know I am on the way home.  Mile by mile I go.  I start to get hungry but keeping hydrated is more important as the sun is at high noon by now.  At around mile 8 I pass Randi and then see Anne on that killer hill (she is training for her first IM in Canada and is following her coaches orders to run a certain HR).  Miles 9, 10 go by as I keep running and walking...passing people and getting passed.  At mile 11, I feel  pebble (must have picked this up in T1) in my shoe which I know was there for the past 10, but is now at my toe.  I need to get it out.  I walk to the side of the road, pull off my shoe, sock and dump the stone onto the ground.  Back to running.  Up the last few hills.  I am not having a great run, but not a horrible one either.  I get into what my friend Rob Gibbons calls the dark place and focus.  2 miles to go...1.5 mile to go...1 mile to go.  I turn onto the last stretch.  Home is a few mins away. I walk for a few seconds (breaking my cardinal rule) to lower my HR a few beats.  Ok, ready.  Let's roll. Into the finish line chute, meters to go...I pass someone (sorry guy), hear the announcer call out my name and for hit the finish line.

Time check:  6:09!  Amazing.  A new PR.  + 30 mins from Timberman and prob +12 mins from Nola (if we had had the swim, I projected a time of 6:21).

Vineman does a great thing by holding a finish line tape for every competitors.  After all, we are all winners for completing this thing.  Stretch, get a quick bite, and make my way to the start of the finish-line chute to cheer on fellow competitors and wait for Randi and Anne with Tara and her mom Sandy.

By 2:15pm we are all home...all have hit PRs (Tara did her 19th half Ironman - amazing) and time to celebrate and drink some vino.  More on that later.

Race Wheels and the Swim God

The bike portion has always been a challenge for me. While I have been constantly getting better, I never seem to be able to get the power that others do. Well as an early birthday present, I made the plunge and our based new racing wheels. After a lot of research and many discussions with people more knowledgeable than me, I plunked down some cash on a new set of racing wheels. Thanks Nelson at Strictly Bicycles for the sound advice -- Malibu (my bike for those who don't know her name) looks sweet - and fast.  Hopefully I will be able to pick up on that charge.

Whale my swim has been solid, I wanted to get pick it up a bit. For that I turned to Earl Walton Head Coach of Trilife (another NYC area triathlon club), someone I have known for a few years and trust for advice.  Turns out Earl is not a mere mortal, but a swim god. With a few adjustments, some different (and difficult) drills, I saw major (and major) improvements in my practices in the pool and actually saw real results at Vineman (see race report for more). Earl did me solid and highly recommend him to anyone wanting to improve times.

Summer Months - all leading up to the big race...

Sorry for the lag in posts but these past few months have been busy ones for me. Between work, the 5th annual CAF gala (more on that later), AGTC work (my third job) and training. This season I made the difficult decision to self coach. I would never (and am forever grateful) be where I am if not for the foundation and friendship of coach Neil Cook. However, I needed to do this year on my own to get back to the joy I lost last year (possibly because of the constant injuries) and to self test if I ever actually want to coach. I also needed to lay the groundwork for my "a" race - Vineman 70.3 which I completed this past weekend (see separate posting/race report coming soon).

Anyway, the 2011 race season was well thought out and included some different and very challenging races. First up was the Columbia Triathlon in Maryland - known for the hardest 10k in triathlons - and Rev3 in Quassy, CT - a relatively new race that has a huge following and a very challenging bike (and run) course. Both lived up to their billings and while I had +3 hour Olympic distance races (a first for me since 2009) I focused on things I needed to focus on and learned a lot from every race. I was lucky enough to do both with friends so it made the event and racing even more fun.

June also brought the 5th annual CAF gala where we raised a record 1.3m for this amazing charity. Thanks to those who came out and supported the dinner and bought auction items. The weeks and days leading up to the gala were a lot if work and yes training took a hit but it was well worth it.

Late June I did the swim for a relay team for CAF during the Philly Tri with Julie Golden and a blind athlete I had never met before (true the are challenged athletes whom i do not actually know). Thanks to the Philadelphia Insurance Company for the entry. Always a blast especially hanging with the CAF crew (Willie Stewart, Nick Roumonada, Scout Basset, Sarah Reinertsen, Barbara Evans and Torrie Tinley) as well as AGTC Crew -Rob Gibbons, David Weiss, Anthony DiGangi , Ken Szekretar,  Jocelyn keynes, Kerry McGrath, Julie and the countless others racing.

Ragnar 2011 - Team "Dude, Where's our Van? " came through

Great and fun weekend running from Bethel (~ Woodstock,) to Dobbs Ferry.  Had two tough legs, which left me sore.  

Full report to come, but check our video a teammate pulled together.  http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Vbbi3LpaBsI

Leg # 7...where I found the van, but  left my quads...

Nola 70.3 - Where that wind come from?

Almost a year ago to the day I was in the operating room having screws put in to  repair my broken wrist.  This past sunday I finished my second half ironman (well almost half as the swim was cancelled).  Considering the winter we had this winter (read lots of indoor training), I am happy with the results -- especially for an early season race in extremely windy conditions.  Nola, for me, was a great gauge for the rest of the 2011season.

The prep

When my friend Victoria Brumfield first mentioned doing Nola this past fall, it was something far in the future...I first had to get through foot surgery, the Miami Half Marathon, winterand more importantly try to lose the weight gained in the off-season.  I knew I could do the distance - see Timberman 70.3 race report -- but in an effort to constantly improve, wanted to do better.  To "prep" for Nola, I needed some benchmarks...The Miami Half Marathon was an eye-opener (wasn't as prepared as needed to be), and thanks to Coach Ben Lloyd, I knew that I had to improve my power on the bike...through training and yes losing weight.  Needless to say I had a task ahead of me. 

I made the decision to self coach this season -owing a lot to Coach Neil Cook who created an amazing foundation for me to build off of.  Self coaching is extremely hard as the only onto motivate you is you. You need to think hard about what areas you are week, develop a training schedule that achieves results and focus.  They say time passes quickly, but it seems to come up even faster when there is a race involved.  Thank to my friend Rob Gibbons, I focused training in my "zone 2" (a/k/a  aerobic zone) - to not only build endurance but also to lose weight. Rob helped me keep a slower pace running, helped to keep me motivated when I jumped on the trainer for hours, but also helped me to mentally prepare myself with constant encouragement.   

Near the end of my training I also had the opportunity to enroll in a class to become USA Triathlon certified coach (I passed the multiple choice and the short answer sections and am waiting to hear if I passed the training plan section).  The session was a real eye opener for me providing even more knowledge about how to race - the mental and physical side - and how to fuel my body for lasting results.   

Race travel/prep days.
Upon victoria's recommendation I decided to ship Malibu (my bike) via UPS to Nola to avoid airline costs (don't get why gold clubs fly free, but bikes don't).  Tracking Malibu's journey down to Nola took my mind off of thinking about the race.  The posse also decided to make the trip, so along with my mother and Ruth (their first 70.3), Vic and I were joined by her boyfriend Micha Ophir, Linsey Skalamera and Allie Ott. We left NYC on Thursday late and after a quick trip to Wendy's so Vic could get a "softee" (inside joke), we made it to the hotel and crashed.  

The days leading up to the race, for me, are all about making sure I am mentally prepared for the race.  Yes this means making sure Malibu is in working condition, and that my legs are moving (runing the last 2.5 miles of the course and visualizing myself crossing the finish line helped), that I am registered, that Malibu is checked into transition, and basically relaxed.  Micha and Linsey decided to do a relay while we were waiting on line to register...that's ballsy!

I wanted to explore  Nola as I heard it's a fun town and indeed it is interesting (sad the same of the roofs o homes in the pooer areas are still gone after Katrina).   Being sober (I went on the wagon a month prior to the race) and wanting to stay off my feet as much as possible isn't condusive to being a tourist.   After the winter we had in NYC (can we say snow!), wearing shorts was a nice thing...I just did not expect the winds to be as strong as they were (more on that in a bit). 

Race Day...Those Damn Winds!

Sunday morning, we all met at 4:30am to head over to the race...Vic was all excited as she heard that the swim was cancelled (unlike me, she hates the swim and loves the bike - for good reason - she's good!)  because of the winds.  The race organizers could not get the rescue/safety boats into the water and therefore didn't think it was safe to put swimmers there (logical).  So instead of being able to warm up during the 1.2 mile swim, we were all headed straight to the 56 miles bike and then the 13.1 mile run.   Time to adjust my game plan. 

Around 7:30am, the race organizers call the pros to the starting line to kick off the race.  While they go out 30-seconds apart, the age groupers will start 2x2 after the pros in swim wave order (I was in the 5th swim wave).  We all take our bikes and line up and walk to the start line...8:00am my turn to start.  Jump on Malibu and I'm off.

The Bike...
The first few moments I clip in (no running mount on this start) and start to pedal.  Looking down at the Garmin, my heart rate (HR) is under control and I'm going at ~ 19 MPH - a good start.  I heard from others who raced this course but it could be windy so I was prepared for a bit of breeze (so I'll go even slower on the bike!).  Over the first overpass (Nola's version of a "hill") when I start to feel the winds...coming right at me....bike speed drops from 20MPH to 15...then to 13...as I pedal stronger and my HR increases (gotta calm down or I won't make it).  I easy up on the pedals, get into an easier gear and try and deal with these winds. 

The course is an out/back taking us along the lake, on a freeway, into the swamp areas (yes there were cops with shot guns looking for gators...).   It is flat (well we do have a two-three meter elevation gain in some areas (mostly overpasses) which means very little coasting and a lot of pedalling during the bike.  The bike is not my strongest of the three legs (or for this race two legs), so am pretty ok when I get passed, which happened a lot.  I did pass a few others (always ooking down at their calf to see if they were in my age group - I didn't want to be the last one off the bike afterall) along the way (ok mostly women who started ahead of me, but a pass is still a pass).   When the wind is not coming at me, I'm going at an average of 21 MPH...but when the wind hits I drop down to 13 PMH...Because I am pedalling non-stop and now pedalling against the wind, I am using more energy to propell myself foward.  Crazy, but I am careful to keep my HR around 158-160 BPM (my zone 2) so I don't blow up. 

Fully prepared to be on the bike for a good 3+ hours, I constantly check my HR, my time, and my speed.  Vic, who started about 15 mins after me, zooms by me at around mile 20...see you later.  Along the way fellow riders shout encouragement (my name is on the bib, but more important I have a big "NYC" on my ass thanks to my Asphalt Green Tri Club gear (hearing anything - even NYC - is great when you're pedalling for hours.  At one point I pass my friend Susan Katz - the only feamle physically challenged athlete in the race (and default winner - I'll take that) knowing that the minute she's off the bike and on the run, I'll get passed by her.    As I approach the end of the bike, it's time to mentally prepare myself for a half marathon (13.1 mile) run.  I see mom and Ruth shout my name as I get off the bike, and walk into transiiton...3:10...not bad, but damn did that hurt! 

Off with bike shoes, on with the sneakers, visor (CAF of course), a quick drink of water and I am off on the run - giving mom and Ruth another high five...see you in 13.1 miles at the finish line.   The first few steps are tough - I am more shuffling than running at this point.  Like the ride, the run portion is flat taking us through Nola's largest park, (majority of the run) and into the French Quarter for the finish.  My HR is higher than I want it to be, so I easy back and let it droop down. 

The wind has died down, and now it's just hot.  Not wanting a repeat performance like I had during the Chicago Marathon, I am constantly making sure to hydrate and to walk thorugh every water station.  I talk to fellow runners as I pass them (I am a stronger running than biker so pass many of the people who passed me on the bike now)...as long as I keep moving forward it's a good thing.  Mile 1-4 were mentally challemging, but I keep remembering how far I have come since my last 70.3 when I had to walk 75% of the half-marathon.  As Rob likes to say, get into the dark place and remember that as much pain as you are in, others are in more pain. 

Miles 5-8 are a breeze...I am sticking to my game plan...walking through the water stations, talking to other, checking my HR, acknowledging "the go NYC" shouts as I press on.  Somewhere along the way I see a guy who is obviously in a darker place than I am in...I ask if he's ok as I pass (his muscles are cramping).  I dig into my race belt and hand him a salt tablet...and remember to take one myself...he thanks me over and over -- see NYers are nice! 

Miles 9-12 are a bit of a blur.  At this point we're out of the park and heading into the French Quarter...I remember mile 12 and thinking to myself while I am going slower than my typical half-marathon pace, I am ahead of where I was at Timberman and I am passing people.  During the corner I cna see the finish line ahead...Almost done.

Finding another gear, I tell my legs to move...down to 1/2 mile...1/4 mile...I see the chute ahead....hear Linsey, Allie, mom and Ruth call my name, hear Dave the announcer welcome me "home" (and congratulate me) and I am done.  Wow what a relief....but a blast! 

  

The hard work paid off...I shaved 20 mins off my bike and 15 of my run from Timberman...I healed a broken wrist, recovered from foot surgery, managed to stay on the wagon for a month, dropped 12 pounds, and completed my second half-ironman (70.3)

Almost game time...

April 17th came on very quick...too quick.  I am feeling confident in my abilities, know I can do the distance...and now we're just days away from the "big dance."

Malibu was shipped out on Saturday via UPS (a fraction of the cost of taking it w/ me on the plane) and as of this morning is in Knoxsville, TN!

Two Weeks....

This came on really fast, but in a mere two weeks (14 days kids), my 2011 race season kicks off with the Nola 70.3.  Damn this came on fast.  I am feeling prepared enough - swim is good, my run has been consistent, and I am getting stronger on the bike.  Plus being on the wagon for the past 18 days and watching my caloric intake has helped to get my weight down to "race" weight.

Nola here we come!

USAT Level I Coaching

Just came back from Baltimore where I spent 2.5 days in seminars leading up to become a USA Triathlon Level I Coach.  Not that I am going to quit my day job anytime soon, but based on my work with paratriathletes, I thought it was a good thing to have. 

Now time to study for the damn exam....more to come.

Race Season Set...Almost

So I think the 2011 Race season is locked... It's mixed with some new challenges, some why the hell not races and my staple ones.  Hope to see some of you out there...

• Miami Half Marathon (Jan).  Done in the books.  Not a PR, but a great weekend. Next time, training would be good
• New Orleans 70.3 (April).  Why I am doing a half-iron early in the season is beyond me...Someone suckered me into this one...Let's consider this one a LOOONG training day instead of a race
• Ragnar Relay (May).  Like Reach the Beach, but 6 hours closer to home.  Ends in Westchester.  How bad can it be
• Columbia Tri (May).  I missed this one last year due to the broken wrist.  After all the good (and hell) things I heard about this one, I need to try it...
• Rev3  - Olympic (June).  A tri in an amusement park?  Why the hell not!
• Philly Tri - maybe a relay for CAF (June).  Still a maybe, but I could get suckered into this one. 
• Vineman 70.3 (July).  While this is my "A" race for the season, I am still on the wait list.  I was  assured I would get in from race organizers, but if it doesn't happen, heard Rhode Island 70.3 is a decent race which doesn't sell out.
• CAF's San Diego Triathlon Challenge  (October).  Simply put, always going to do this one. 
• NYC Marathon (Nov).  I want revenge...Mile 22 broke me in 2009...It won't happen this time around.
• Las Vegas Half Marathon (Dec).  Maybe I'll hit black jacks right after the finish line. 

New Orleans 70.3 Remind me why again?

yes I am one of the stupid ones who signed up for an early season race...Not really sure why I did again, but alas, I have about 60 days before the kick off of the 2011 season.

So far, the training has been on the bike (trainer) at home (2 hours last weekend) and running. Also bought my flight down there today ($400 RT), so there is no turning back now...

Hawaii then Miami. not a bad way to start January

If there was ever a month to miss being in NYC it was this past January.  December was hell enough with the storm at the end of the Month, so I was very glad to get the hell out of dodge.  No better place to escape the cold and the snow than Hawaii.

Thanks to the Korff gang (Victoria, Linsey, Allie, Beau and John), I went to took a much needed break to the North Shore of Hawaii.  This was one of the first times I traveled with my bike just to have it with me to train (I actually bought a travel case just to have it for Hawaii and my races this coming year).  Leaving JFK on a Saturday morning I finally arrived in HNL a mere 20 hours later (time zone and 4-hour lay-over in LAX included).  Upgraded rental car to a Mustang Convertible -- Vic and Micha met me to take my bike (they spent a week in Kona before).  Off to Turtle Bay Resort on the North Shore...time to chill.

Hawaii is indeed like paradise.  While overcast a few days, it was nothing but relaxing, some training, laughs and good times with friends.

The combo of being five hours behind NY and not having my laptop really got me to unplug.  It was a blast riding my bike (the hours on the bike trainer in the way back of my mind), going on long training runs (for Miami) and just lounging on the beach chair watching the waves was incredible.  The 9-days I was away did wonders for my mind and my tan lines.

Yea and the sunsets did not suck.
As I lugged my bike 6,000+ miles (and two time zones), I made sure to get in the saddle as often as I could.  While we have all heard stories of the Hawaii winds (segments on the IM Championship TV broadcasts are devoted to it), I had never actually experienced it, until one day when I decided to see what they were all about.  After going against the winds for ~ 15 miles in ~ an hour and getting pushed and shoved and almost blown off my bike, I had a whole new found respect for the winds (it was especially nice going with this wind on the way back in 40 mins).

As sad I as I was to leave Hawaii, it was time to go back to work...at least for a few days.

I was back a mere four days (literally arrived back in NYC on Tuesday morning) before flying out to Miami (Friday morning) for a half-marathon with friends.  I have done the Miami half for the past three years (this was my first half marathon in 2009) and it's always a blast.  Throw in a group of 13 and it wasn't just a race, it was a weekend away with friends.

No need to go into great detail, but I defintely learned you cannot screw with the distance.  The lack of training, not sticking to my no-drinking a week prior rules, and not watching my diet contributed to a not to great race in my book...But I had a BLAST. 

Back to reality....

Final Days of 2011

I cannot say I'll miss 2010 that much, but did learn a lot about myself as an athlete, friend and all around human being. 

Jan:  Miami half marathon.  Lots of laughs with Rob, Davey, and Rev...Randomly seeing Ken at the start...Pro Bowl.  No PR, but a decent start to the year. 

Feb - March:  Random NYRR races, March Madness Duathalon (never again...even though I said the same in 2009).  NYC Half Marathon (not heat this time, but that damn asphalt-to-concrete surface change really screws me up). 

April:  Started off well...until the crash during the South Beach Race.  Man-o-War Vick?  Nah, it's not broken, just really badly sprained (right!).  Surgery...decisions on summer race schedule (realization that Eagleman 70.3 wasn't happening).  Learning what it is like to actually be a challenged athlete (more admiration for those living with one arm - loafers are my friend). Weekly visits to arm surgeon begins...weekly cast changes. 

May:  Start to run again...slowly with one arm in the air.  Trip to Boulder to visit Mac (love that place).  DNS at Columbia MD (I'll do this one in 2011).  More training.  Second surgery right before Labor Day.  Trip to Rob's for Memorial Day....first time on the bike since the crash. 

June:  CAF Gala...a drunken night...Gold Coast Tri (hated that one), Philly Tri (which turned into a duathalon -- did I mention hating these -- due to tragic reasons).  Training..Timberman 70.3 will happen.  Neuroma starts to get worse, but I will run through it.  Trip to the DR (and the aftermath of that).

July:  NYC Tri - the best day of the year.  Close to 100 Parrtriathletes competing for a spot on the national team.  Four weeks to Timberman...Trip to Newcomb for training and then watching IM Lake Placid (no IM bug for me).  Camped for the first (and last time).

August:  Decide to go to Budapest to support Paratri National Team, my bday, start of Chicago Marathon training...and Timberman 70.3 DONE!   

September:  Budapest...Amazing...Paratri World Championships...total admiration for my friends who came home with real hardware.  Back home...back to Chicago Marathon training....Cortisone injection for neuroma.  Decision to skip Reach the Beach.

October:  Chicago Marathon (that heat still haunts me) with Julie, CAF SDTC with a great and larger group from NYC.  Foot surgery (#3 of the year).  Cane, .Das Boot! 

November:  NYC Marathon (Julie runs - I sit this one out - for her 40th Bday).  Still in the boot, but get rid of cane...Cleared by Dr. Lai to train again...Beach2Battleship passes (another race I did not do this year).  Thanksgiving! 

December:  Training, FTP test with Ben, hours on the bike trainer, miles in CP...New Years Eve...

By 2010...welcome 2011

The End of the Race Season…Chicago Marathon. From Hell and Back (literally)

Even though the 2010 Race Season could be dubbed the “Season on Injury” I wanted to end it with a big race.   For that reason alone, I decide to participate (not race mind you) in the Chicago Marathon.  My friend Julie Freeman and I signed up for in January when we were both injury free (it was also supposed to be Julie’s 40^th birthday present), because it was taking place on October 10^th (10-10-10) and the course was known to be flat and fast.  Well the race didn’t turn out exactly as planned and after close to five hours (yes that even shocks me), on a close to ninety-degree day, I finished my second (and maybe last marathon).  After the race, Julie and I both felt like we had gone to hell and were trying to make our way back (beer helped).

The weekend started off great.  Arriving on Friday AM, I checked into the hotel, bought all race-day supplies, and made plans to meet up with Chicago Friends (Melissa Stockwell, Jean Draper and Michael Kirshner) after the race before picking Julie up at the airport and then heading to dinner at our friend and colleague, Jenna Becks’ house.  Julie warned me she was not in race condition, a major ankle injury had her in an air-cast the week before; but I was even shocked to see her being on the platform of the T/Subway in a wheelchair with The Bible in hand (per plane reading material).  

Anyway, after a great home-cooked meal by Jenna we get back to the hotel and rest up. 

Saturday was an interesting start.  As soon as we entered the race registration hall, my left flip-flop literally broke in half.  Walking around the expo literally looking for a new pair of flip-flops probably wasn’t the best idea, but who knew it would take me until the last booth we visited to find a pair.  Perhaps I should have read into this omen for the race itself.  The rest of the day, we hung in the hotel room to rest our legs/feet (I was constantly checking the web for updates on Kona as I had a handful of friends racing) before heading out to our colleague’s/friend’s house Christine Bailey who offered to host a small pre-race carb-loading dinner.  The pre-race meal was a lot of fun – especially hanging out and sharing gossip with other work friends Kirsten Klimenko and Tisha Teeluck.  Back in the hotel by 8:30am and in bed by 9:00pm. 

The alarm goes off at 5:30am (sleeping in for a race believe it or not); I check my Garmin hoping it cooperates (unlike at Timberman), get ready and head to the corrals (we opted for the Open Wave because we forgot to submit times to allow us access to the seeded system).   As we were checking the weather since Friday, we knew it was supposed to be hot – mid 70s during the race.  This is less than ideal (put mildly) running weather, but the race organizers kept the level at Green (the best).  We stretch/warm-up and get into the corrals to start the race.  I tell Julie my lower back is really tight and ask her to stretch me out a bit.  Hopefully it is phantom pain or the tightness will ease up as I start to run. 

Because of my neuroma, I opted to follow the run/walk Galloway (me mentored by Reveka Wallace) method  -- 1 minute of running and 1 minute of walking; I planned on following this for the first 20 miles and then if my foot allowed me, I was going to run the last 10k.   The first mile or so was crowded (to put it mildly) that I had a hard enough time keeping to my system as Julie ran ahead (she wasn’t sure how much of the race she’d actually be able to complete due to her injury so wanted to try and get as far as she could). Continuing the cat/mouse game of passing people when I run and having people pass me as I walk, I decided to switch from a 1:1 to a 2:1 (two min run/one walk) as I felt good and my heart rate was in check.

For those who have seen me race, I sweat…a lot.  But as the temperature started to rise (it was in the high 70s by Mile 4), I was soaked (my CAF tri top looked like I was competing in a tri and not a marathon).  My nutrition plan called for drinking something at every aid station, taking some gel every hour and salt tablets every hour and a half (as Coach Neil says, hydrate early and often).  Past Mile 10 (my half-way mark), I was passing the 4:45, 4:30 and was caught up with the 4:15 pace groups.   At Mile 15 or so, I heard an announcement that the course conditioned changed..not from Green to Yellow, but from Green to Red (what the hell happened to Yellow?).  The race organizers warned everyone to slow down, to hydrate and be careful.  Always someone who listens to my body, I slowed my run pace a but, but still felt ok – no major back pain, I was hydrated and wasn’t cramping and was on goal pace.  

The crowds were lined up all over the racecourse and really helped to motivate us  - I often heard “go challenged athletes” as I either walked or ran past them.  Thankfully no one was yelling “you’re almost there” at Mile 16 – like we don’t know exactly where we are on the course!  I saw Kristen and her friend (and former relay teammate during the Chicago Tri in 2008) Karla Gross at Mile 16 and told them I was doing ok…10 miles to go.  Coming up to the 18-mile aid station, I knew to look for Melissa who I knew was volunteering.  I saw her, walked over gave her a five-five and a hung and kept on going (I heard her yelling only 8 to go, you got this).  Indeed I did.   But something suddenly wasn’t right. 

As I approached Mile 20, I felt something terribly wrong in my legs.  The muscles in my legs started to shake and then tighten whenever I was running.  I didn’t think it was it was dehydration as I was taking in fluid regularly.  It must be the damn heat.  Ok, I’ll slow down and walk for a little more…and then a little more.  I grab some ice from someone watching, put it down my back and on my head to try and cool my core down and keeping moving…I refuse to stop so while I am walking more often than I am running (I run as long as I can before the muscles started to twitch), I am walking towards the finish line.    

By now (about Mile 22), it is like walking among the living dead…racers are literally sitting on the curbs, I see some EMS taking people off the course (some on stretchers), but hardly anyone is running.  While it was only probably in the high 80s, it felt as lot hotter.  I was no longer thinking about a goal time, but finishing – in one piece.   When I am able to run (even if for 30 seconds), I pass people who were in the 3:30 pace group (this is a brutal day), but keep telling myself one foot in front of the other is closer to home.  I pass Mile 25…1.2 to go and continue to struggle. More racers giving up sitting on the sidelines, the roar of the crowd gets louder every meter we get close to the finish line.   I see the 800 Meter sign – ½ a mile to go… The last 400 meters of the race has a 100 meter uphill and then about 300 meters of downhill to the finish.  I try running up the hill, but opt to walk, as I want to run, not walk across the finish line.  At 300 Meters, I grunt, and dig as deep as I can and run…across the finish line…The first thing that pops into my mind – thank god this is over! 

I grab my medal, a glass of beer, my dry clothing bag, and look for ice before heading back to the hotel.  At the hotel I take an ice bath, stretch a little, and grab some food.  Julie and I share horror stories – as she finished half an hour before me she saw some of the quicker athletes go down (literally) because of the heat.   We ended the day with a great dinner at a Tapas place – Julie opted to sit with Jenna (and some of her friends) and our colleague/friend Deanna Derrig (and her husband Mike) and I opted to stay at the bar with Melissa, Michael, Jean and her friend Heather. 

At the end of the day, we both finished and both agreed that while Chicago may be a flat (and if we were healthy) a fast race, it’s checked off on our bucket lists and we won’t be returning. 

That's what Scout Said....

The best part of touring a City with Scout is that she will do anything you ask her to do...including posing with statutes.  Here are just some of my spots staring Scout.

Budapest - Sightseeing

I decided to fly to Budapest early to check out this historic city - hey who knows when (or if) I'll ever come back here.  I left NYC on Sunday and arrived in Budapest (via Brussels) on Monday around 12:30pm (that would be 6:30am EST) only to realize my promised international cell service wasn't working (thanks Verizon for not telling me I needed a special SIM card!).  After a failed attempt to buy a temporary phone or SIM card, I met up with a few friends (Scout Bassett, Travis Ricks and Creighton Wong) who also came in early for dinner.  

Tuesday the four of us explored a few areas of the City (great walking tours laid out on Frommers if you ever need a recommendation), but first breakfast at a local cafe.  As we strolled up one of the City's largest streets -- I cannot even pronounce never mind spell it  -- we thought we'd have a few hours before hitting our end goal -- one of Budapest's famous bathhouses.

Budapest is really an ancient city with deep roots.  Funny factoid:  There are actually two distinct areas of Budapest separated by the Danube River -- Buda on one side (which is hilly) and Pest (on the other side) which is flatter.  There is another area Outer Buda which is much hillier than the Buda and was he original City.  


We spent a considerable amount of time strolling down one Avenue, but got a chance to take in a large number of sites. During our tour, We saw some amazing building -- historic buildings to me are very cool -- the Opera House, former mansions which are now consulates -- and toured the National Museum and the Wall of Heroes (if that's what it's called).  I was once told that when in a strange City, make sure to always look up to see the architecture; the frescos et al on the edges of the buildings are just amazing.  The Museum  was a bit of a disappointment as many of its notable pieces of art were on loan to other museum's (I bet one of them is the Met!).    


Finally, our end destination...The Bathhouse -- not a bathhouse out of bad 1970s porn movie, but a large complex of over 20 pools of different sizes/shapes with different minerals - laid out over three floors.  The four of us shared a single locker (this house was co-ed) and headed to just chill.  


More pictures will be posted on Snapfish after the trip is over.  

Paratri World Championships - Budapest 2010

About 20 of our Country's best (meaning fastest) Paratri athletes are representing the U.S. on a world stage -- the ITU (International Triathlon Union) Grand Slam in Budapest on Saturday (9/11).  I have the honor of being one of the Team's two official handlers (and defacto Co-Manager) -- along with Jon Beeson.  This is going to be an amazing and memorable experience.

Timberman - My First 70.3

It has been a while since sending out a race report; actually for the past few months there has been nothing really to report. As most of you know, this past April while competing in the South Beach triathlon, I crashed my bike on a downhill turn and wound up with a broken wrist and a few battle scars. Originally scheduled for an intensive race schedule (three half Iornman races, two Olympic-distance races, and one Sprint-distance race; oh and a marathon), after the crash this was drastically scaled back. Instead of trying to do too much too soon, I focused only on my recovery and one half ironman race – Timberman. This past weekend, I notched another first in my triathlon “career” – completing my first half-ironman (or 70.3) race – in a little over 6:30 hours. 


For those not familiar with a 70.3 race it consists of a 1.2 mile swim, a 56-mile bike ride and a 13.1 mile (or half marathon) run; one-half the distance of a full Ironman – hence the name – and is a test of both physical and mental abilities. Not only did my finish mean I was officially back, I proved to myself that I had the mental and physical ability to continue with a sport that has drastically changed my life. There are many people to thank for helping me get from broken/one-arm guy to a 70.3 finisher – first my family, doctors, CAF/Paratri folks (who know something about overcoming adversity) and my support network of friends and Asphalt Green Tri Club (AGTC) teammates. 


Training for this distance is not about speed, it is long and slow…based on keeping a steady and calm heart rate (we typically train in Zone ranging from 1-5) and cadence (the number of times/minute you turnover the pedals on the bike). No longer was a 30-mile bike ride on a Saturday enough – I had to be sure that I was in my saddle for a good 4-5 hours. Short runs were 8+ miles and short dips in the pool were 1,500 meters. I mention this only a primer to the following – the Story of My First 70.3 Race….


Pre-Race


Timberman weekend was always about fun – a nice weekend away from NYC with teammates – those competing alongside me in the half as well as those doing the shorter, Sprint distance. Our journey started on Friday with a 5+ hour drive to Laconia, NH. Bryan Webber and I in one car, Kerry McGrath, Tom Mullane, David Weiss, Reveka Wallace, Anne Ronzoni and Randi Gordon in other cars (there we more than 25 of us from AGTC racing; these are just a handful of people). Bryan, David, Randi, Anne and I were first-timers at this distance. We all knew it was going to be a long, and hard day, but the party after was going to make it worth it. Bryan and I picked Tom up at the hotel and headed over to registration to meet up with David and Kerry and to do some pre-race shopping at the Ironman store (being superstitious, I never wear anything with a race logo until after it is done). Both Tom and Kerry were doing the Sprint on Saturday so after dinner, we called it a night. Saturday after watching Kerry and Tom compete, Bryan and I drove the bike course, swam a bit and biked part of the run course before racking our bikes (Ironman rules dictate that participants must rack their bikes in transition the night before a race).


While you can get a bit of a feel for a road when driving a course, you never really understand how much a hill hurts until you actually try pedaling up it. While testing the bikes, I realized my cadence monitor quit on me. Dumbfounded, I brought it to the on-site bike shop who couldn’t figure out the issue either. Nothing I can do about it; at least I have the Garmin to monitor my heart rate zone.


Following the same routine as I do before all races, I prepped my transition bag (check, all things there), had dinner with the team, downed my ambien and hit the bed.


Race morning…


My two alarms go off (can’t take any chances) at 3:30am; need to hit the road by 4:20am in order to secure a parking spot. We get to the race site and get one of the last remaining parking spots (maybe this is a sign of good things to come) and head over the transition to start setting up our areas. The forecast for the day called for 30% showers. Looking at the sky, it seemed more like 60%, but maybe we’ll get lucky and it’ll hold off until the run. As my wave is scheduled to go off at 7:40am I was prepared for down time. Looking down at my Garmin to see exactly how much time I have, I notice is reads 4:48am (not possible!). You have GOT TO BE KIDDING ME…my Garmin froze….of all times for this to happen! How am I supposed to race in the right heart rate zone if I cannot monitor it? Quickly I head to the bike shop and ask if they know any way to re-set the damn thing. Nope….ok, Plan C…let’s do this race by feel…I email Kerry who is in our cabin and hope that she can find my Timex watch so I can at least keep track of how long this damn thing is taking me…


I leave transition with David, Bryan and others and wait for the swim to start with the team. I watch the waves ahead of my start including the pros and slowly make my way up to the swim start. Kerry suddenly appears and hands me my Timex…ah at least I can monitor something (the control freak in me didn’t relish the idea of not having any data available). For me the swim is probably the segment I fear least, so while I am nervous, I am not panicking as I used do when I first started doing triathlons. We line up, get into the water (as this is an in-water, as opposed to beach, start) and wait for the journey to begin. The cannon goes off and so do we.


The Swim…


The lake is really shallow…shallow to the point where I can walk out over 50 yards of the swim. Bored, I just dive in and start swimming past people who are still wading into the water. Relaxed, I focus on sighting, pulling the water and breathing the way Coach Neil told me to do. The course was set up like a trapezoid – 750 meters put, 400 meters across and 750 meters back to shore. While choppy, the water is clear so I can see others in front of me. I keep following bubbles and strategically pass others until I see the last buoy and the swim exit gate. I pop out of the water when my hands hit sand and jog to shore saying hi to a few spectators I know and heading over to the wetsuit strippers (a luxury having someone else take off your suit). Time check…a little over 39 minutes; not bad. Knowing I have at least 6+ hours ahead of me, I take my time in transition, putting on socks, taking some water in, and mentally prepare for the next leg of the race.


The bike…


I jump of my bike (Malibu) and head out on the 56-mile journey. The course is an out and back loop- ~ 28 miles each way and fully expect that it will take me between 3:30 – 4 hours – especially as the bike is my weakest part of this crazy sport. Immediately out of transition we face our first hill. Letting others pass me, I get into my small ring and head up the hill. We finally hit some flat land when I hear Tom yell my name from the sidelines. I keep going…keep getting past, but just focus on trying to feel what a Zone 2 heart rate would feel like. By driving the course the day before I remembered that one of the biggest hills was around mile 9 – but w/o a way to track distance, I just wait for it. Oh year, there it is…I see other racers struggling up that damn thing. I get into an easier gear, grin and bear it. Up and over I keep saying…where there is an up, there has to be a down..somewhere…I keep telling myself “don’t push too hard, you have 45+ miles more to go and need to deal with this hill again.” Finally the hill crests and I head downhill. Given that my crash in Miami happened on a downhill, I am even more cautious not to pick up too much speed and ride my brakes (hell, I am not going through any more surgeries). Finally I hit a big stretch of road where I can go into my aero position, and try and open up a bit, just when it starts to rain, just a few sprinkles so it’s not that bad. During the next 15+ miles, I pass some people (but am still passed by more people than I pass), take in food (as crazy as it sounds, I trained using snickers bars for some nutrition; something I will change in future races), make sure I stay hydrated and take in salt tablets according to a personal schedule/clock I set up for myself. As the time on the bike increases so do the number of miles…Then I see the turn around and know I am at least headed in the right direction – home.


One piece of advice an AGTC teammate gave me when doing this distance is not to think too far ahead. So in my mind I was focused on 5 mile segments and not on the half marathon that awaited me. As I pass mile markers 30, 35, 40, 45, I am focused…not on time (which is kind of liberating), but on taking it all in. The rain is coming down a bit harder now, so I am even more cautious of the white lines and on the descents (again, I am here for the experience and not for a podium spot).


Suddenly I started to have this strange cramp-like feeling – thinking it’s a stitch cramp, I cough, breathe, take in water to get rid of it. But it’s not going away…then it hits me…it’s not a cramp, I have to pee (all of this focusing on taking in fluids, I had no plan for getting rid of it--note to self, learn how to pee on the bike for next race). I pass mile 50 and know that I have 6 miles – or one loop of Central Park to go. Staying calm, I pass others…one girl just says to anyone in earshot ,“I want off so I can have kids one day.” I laugh and say hell, I’ll marry you…she laughs back (too bad I have no idea what she looks like as we both were in our aero position). Finally the last hill (the one we faced when first leaving) and I am headed home. Two down, one to go…


The run….


I get off the bike, and mentally prepare to run 13.1 miles. Earlier this spring I developed a really bad neuroma, which for those who have never heard of it, an inflamed nerve in the ball of your foot which makes it feel as if your toes are on fire….not the best situation to try and run. Anyway, I ice my foot (another trick Neil suggested), pull on my shoes and head out……but first I hit the porta-potty.


The course is a two-loop, out and back run. This is great as you can see lots of people and you can get a good feel for the course. Having done a few half marathons, I know I can do the distance; I just have never done it after a 56-mile bike ride and a 1.2 mile swim). Knowing this I had to set a strategy…walk when needed, but run when able. Neil suggested that I pick a point to run and then run. However, it’s bad as you pass the finish line and see others ending their day when you now you have 6.5 more miles to run. As I head out, I am slow – much slower than my typical pace, but hey I am not going to win this thing. My foot is in some pain, and I stop once in a while to adjust my shoe and the pad to lessen the impact and the pain. At times it is pretty intense to the point that I need to sit down on the sidelines and rest the foot. I keep telling myself this is just four 3+ mile runs…take one segment at a time. I opted to walk through water stations and up the few hills – to both hydrate and get my heart rate down. I see Randi on the first loop out and decide to walk/run with her for a while. But I started to feel ok, so took off; it was great to know that if needed, she was behind me to mentally get me through this. Every once in a while I would glance at my watch to see how I was going. Going into my second loop (and seeing others finish – damn, 6.5 miles to go), I was running close to six hours…wow I was going to finish this thing.


On the second loop, I decided to employ the run/walk program Reveka lauds – hey, she ran five marathons in five months using it, so it had to have merits. I opt for a 1:2, 1:1 (one minute walking/one running…one minute walking/two minutes running…you get the idea). When I was able to run, it was great – passing people who were in all different types of pain – one racer even commented on my stride and cadence (that made me happy). As I head out for the first 3+ miles, I see other AGTC teammates finishing – I slap their hands as we pass, tell them I’ll see them soon and ask them to get me a beer… Finally, I hit the turn around – walking but saying to myself one foot in front of another…one foot in front of another. As I head to the finish line, I am with a few others who I use as pacers – I pass them when running and they pass me when I am walking. We trade positions for about 2-miles when I start to approach the last hill, I know that I have less than a mile to go. Head down and focused, I decide the walk for a few and then go for it.


Then I hear it…the sound of the finish line and the cheers…I am almost there…Kerry who has been standing on the run course watching everyone finish cheers and yells out my name…then it hits me, I am about to finish my first half ironman. Entering the finish chute I start to speed up get into my stride as I cross the finish line, grab my medal and then it hits me…I completed my first 70.3 race…


Wow, what an experience…yes I was in a lot of pain at times, yes I probably could have pushed more on the bike, but am so glad to be back physically and mentally.


Next up, the Chicago Marathon where I will be running with friend and colleague Julie Freeman to kick off her 40th b-day celebration.