During a recent Northwestern football game viewing, my best friend, Richard (no, it is not myself speaking in third person... it really is someone else), commented on how difficult it is to get back into shape. He's been struggling to regain his previous running form (no, seriously, this is not about me) since an injury and surgery a few years ago (really, it's not me). While he is able to run pain-free since his Achilles surgery (see, I told you!), he has lost speed and is unhappy about this. I mentioned that the way to get back into shape would be to pick a race, probably a marathon. Of course, I said this jokingly. Well, Richard thought about this, and chose the Surf City Marathon as a good target, since it was 18 weeks away, plenty of time to go through a training plan, ramping up gradually. And of course, he figured that I'd do it with him, since I was the one that suggested it.
It usually takes me a year or two to forget how painful a marathon is. The training is actually not the hard part. When you contrast marathon training with triathlon training, it's relatively easy. You run. That's it. And since your body can only take so much pounding, the running is usually only about an hour for every day but the long run day. Of course, the long run day can be a challenge. At its peak, the long run can take up to 3 hours. Contrast that, though, to a long bike when training for 1/2 IM or IM, and 3 hours is a breeze. The day after a long run is usually interesting, when you can't get enough food or drink in you, and your legs are pretty trashed.
Anyway, Richard and I decided that we would put in a month of training and see where that got us. I gave November 4th as the day of reckoning, when we would either bail or sign up. As for my training plan, I've used the Hal Higdon plan in the past, as well as the Pete Pfitzinger plan. For this month, I'm kind of combining the Pete Pfitzinger plan with the Run Less, Run Faster plan with my own variation. I figured that if I run a marathon, my goal should be to go to Boston. To qualify as a 50 year old, I need to run 3:30. Since Boston now uses a rolling registration (faster qualifiers relative to qualifying time register first), and the first registration cut-off is 20 minutes faster than qualifying time, that means I should aim for a 3:10. It seems doable, since that is 7:15 minute/mile pace. So, what I've decided is to make sure that I'm running 7:30 or better for all of my runs. If I can do this, getting down to 7:15 should be relatively easy.
So far, I'm doing okay. My runs have been 7:30 pace. I have not done anything fast yet, and my long run was 8 miles 10 days ago. I was supposed to increase my long run by 2 miles each week with a fall-back run at week 4, but I got a bad case of vertigo this past weekend, and did nothing but lie on the couch. So far, the weather has cooperated. While my favorite weather is warm and sunny, I think my next favorite, especially to run and ride in, is foggy weather. There's a bit of surrealism to running and riding when it's foggy. I think the dampness contributes to dampening sound, so it's quieter, maybe even a bit eerie. When I mentioned this to the boys, David even mentioned that it reminded him of "Pre" (the movie). Of course, I don't run anything like Pre, but I could picture what he was talking about.
Today, as I ran out in the Log Center trail in the cool fog, I was a bit uneasy, since I don't think the bears are hibernating yet. I ran a bit quicker through the trees at that thought, and didn't really relax until I had gotten back onto the pavement. But even as I ran uneasily through the trees, I did take the time to enjoy the way the trees looked in the fog/mist. And I can say that the Pacific Northwest is definitely THE place to be for running right now.
Tuesday, October 22, 2013
Saturday, September 14, 2013
Italian may mean high maintenance... but oh, when it's working!
When I decided to update my road bike components several years ago, I decided to change from Shimano 8-speed Dura-Ace to Campagnolo 10-speed Record. Why? Well, it wasn't exactly that well thought-out, since my tri-bike has Shimano components, so I can't swap between them. My cyclocross bike, though, has Campagnolo 10-speed, so it's not completely crazy. Anyway, I put a new chain on my road bike, and cleaned the cassette, derailleurs and crankset prior to putting them on. I took apart the cassette to clean it, remembering that the spacers were not uniform. For some reason, Campagnolo makes spacers that are differentiated. I suppose it makes the shifting better, but I couldn't figure out why. After all, Shimano's cassettes have uniform spacers and their shifting seems to work pretty well. I even pulled out the technical manual that came with the cassette (yes, I keep those things) and looked at it.
So, after cleaning and then reassembling the cassette last night, I ran through the gears to make sure it was shifting cleanly. Every cog shifted smoothly except for the 17. It kept getting hung up and I could not get it to work. I went to bed, figuring that I would work on it in the morning. As I was getting ready to fall asleep, the idea that I had assembled the spacers incorrectly went through my mind. When I woke up this AM, I looked at the schematics of the technical manual, and then took off the cassette. Yup, I had reversed the spacer between the 23-25 and the 19-21. When I switched them, reassembled the cassette, and ran through the cogs, it shifted smoothly, even the 17. Ah-ha! Taking my bike out for a ride today, after having put on a new chain, and cleaned the drivetrain, everything worked smoothly. The shifting in a Campagnolo drivetrain is just more solid than I've found in a Shimano drivetrain, at least between road bikes. The brifters don't rattle, and each shift is a solid "thunk" rather than a "snick" that I've experienced with Shimano.
And maybe that's why there are three different types of spacers in a Campagnolo cassette. But, it just reminds me that it requires just a bit more attention than Shimano. And it reminds me of the reputation of Italian sports cars: they are fantastic to drive, but are much more finicky. But, as I rode my bike today and felt the satisfaction of each positive shift and how the drivetrain hummed along, I understood why people still buy Italian sports cars.
So, after cleaning and then reassembling the cassette last night, I ran through the gears to make sure it was shifting cleanly. Every cog shifted smoothly except for the 17. It kept getting hung up and I could not get it to work. I went to bed, figuring that I would work on it in the morning. As I was getting ready to fall asleep, the idea that I had assembled the spacers incorrectly went through my mind. When I woke up this AM, I looked at the schematics of the technical manual, and then took off the cassette. Yup, I had reversed the spacer between the 23-25 and the 19-21. When I switched them, reassembled the cassette, and ran through the cogs, it shifted smoothly, even the 17. Ah-ha! Taking my bike out for a ride today, after having put on a new chain, and cleaned the drivetrain, everything worked smoothly. The shifting in a Campagnolo drivetrain is just more solid than I've found in a Shimano drivetrain, at least between road bikes. The brifters don't rattle, and each shift is a solid "thunk" rather than a "snick" that I've experienced with Shimano.
And maybe that's why there are three different types of spacers in a Campagnolo cassette. But, it just reminds me that it requires just a bit more attention than Shimano. And it reminds me of the reputation of Italian sports cars: they are fantastic to drive, but are much more finicky. But, as I rode my bike today and felt the satisfaction of each positive shift and how the drivetrain hummed along, I understood why people still buy Italian sports cars.
Friday, September 13, 2013
I'm not like the princess and the pea... really!
Today's entry is actually an update of an entry from May 2012... and that is a column that I originally wrote several years ago. As you can see, I have continued to update it. The entire piece is long, but somewhat amusing, and I'm sure many others have been through the same thing I've been going through. So, without further ado, here's the continuation of my May 2012 entry, "Riding shouldn't be a pain in the butt":
Update December 2012: After playing around with where to sit on the V-Flow Plus, I did find the sweet spot. It is actually nearly at the tip, but I found that I can sit there for an extended period of time without difficulty. When I realized where the sweet spot was for me, I ended up moving the saddle back about ¾ cm. That helped to keep me from banging my knees on my elbows. I think the quest is finally over.
Update May 2013: And nope. The sweet spot for the V-Flow Plus was further back from the nose. And being a career nose rider, it just feels strange to me. So, I went back and tried the Adamo again, buying a used Time Trial on Slowtwitch. It is shoved back, but I’ve found that it puts me in a better position from a feel standpoint. I end up near the front, but don’t feel like I’m falling off. Of course, where I sit on the prongs will take some getting used to, as has been suggested. But while the Time Trial is a “firm” saddle, I don’t mind it, and even found a comfortable spot on it this AM while riding. Again, I may need a bit more playing around to try and find the optimum spot. In looking at my comments on the Breakaway, it was comfortable, but felt too wide. I think by moving the Time Trial further back, the wideness issue has been alleviated. And the idea that you are sitting on an Adamo in much the same way you perch on the edge of a bench or ledge is a good visual.
So, I think the Adamo is a “go.” After a few trainer rides, it seems to work pretty well. I haven’t been uncomfortable at all, and, in fact, feel pretty good on the trainer. I guess I’ll need to road-test it to make sure it works, but I like the fact that I feel like I’m sitting “on the rivet,” which is how I’ve ridden for years on a tri-bike. However, there isn’t any pressure and no numbness. I’ll have to get a look at my position in a photo.
Update September 2013: I think I’ve found it… finally. After spending the season on the Adamo Time Trial, I didn’t think it was the answer. I decided to try the Specialized Sitero, a new time trial/triathlon-specific saddle. After every ride on the Time Trial, I felt like there were sore areas that shouldn’t have been there, still feeling that it was too wide. After a couple of short rides on the Sitero, I definitely don’t have the same soreness, and it certainly feels the best of any saddle that I’ve tried to date. More time will be spent this winter to see if it’s the right one for me. And reportedly, the studies done by Specialized showed that blood flow to the perineal area was better with this saddle than another other saddle, including the Adamos. Interestingly, since I first wrote this, Adamo increased the number of their saddles, mostly to include time trial/triathlon-specific saddles, Cobb came out with their Gen2, Specialized came out with their Sitero, Bontrager came out with their adjustable Hilo, and Fi`zi:k and Shimano have released pictures of their new time trial/triathlon saddles, which will be available in the winter. It’s funny how there has been an explosion of saddles for triathletes, who are all trying to find the saddle that will allow them to ride in an aggressive position without being punished for it.
Wednesday, September 11, 2013
September 11th
I purposely try to stay on track, rambling (mostly in a lighthearted manner) about my athletic life in this blog. There's enough to stress on and be serious about that I use this as a way to take life (and myself) a little bit less seriously. Today, though, I'm going to step outside my box and onto my soapbox. You can elect to read onwards, or skip today's entry
On a terrible day 12 years ago, our lives, and the world for that matter, were forever changed. Most of you can remember where you were when you heard the news about the terrorist attacks. I was in my car, headed to work via North Fort Lewis and there was a back up on North Gate Road all the way to the T-intersection of Steilacoom-Dupont Highway. There was a lockdown and ID's were being checked at the gate, which was first time this had happened since the first Gulf War. I was in line about halfway down North Gate Road when the reports that the first tower had fallen came out. I also remember being parked on I-5 listening to the reports. It took me over 3 hours to get to work, and I was one of the few in my clinic that actually made it to work. We spent most of the day, staring at the TV, watching the video feeds over and over. I remember walking around in a daze for much of the day.
On September 11, I think it is important to reflect on that day and on where we live and what we stand for. What caused me to write today's entry was a Facebook entry from someone who apparently "can't handle" all the public stuff that goes on every year. Well... deal with it! Or choose another country to live in, one that probably does not have all the freedoms with which we are endowed in this country. Yes, other countries have been violated in their past, but we live in a country that is regarded in a different manner than any other country in the world.
The thing that, well, pisses me off, is the attitude of entitlement that permeates some in our country. We live the way we live because of sacrifices that a small portion of our population makes. And yes, we recognize the armed forces on certain days of the year, and the rest of the year, much of what is done by them is below our consciousness. Okay, maybe I'm more sensitive to this, because I am a Veteran, and I work in an institution that is part of the armed forces, and I have had friends and acquaintances that are or were on Active Duty. They have made sacrifices, from missing their children's first birthday and not being able to be there as a parent or spouse, to injuries which will last a lifetime. When you speak with someone who has been deployed, invariably they will make light of the situation, focusing on the lighthearted moments that occurred. What they won't or don't do is dwell on the negatives.
This September 11th is nearly over; I hope that this date will always be in the public eye and we never forget.
I am off of my soapbox now.
On a terrible day 12 years ago, our lives, and the world for that matter, were forever changed. Most of you can remember where you were when you heard the news about the terrorist attacks. I was in my car, headed to work via North Fort Lewis and there was a back up on North Gate Road all the way to the T-intersection of Steilacoom-Dupont Highway. There was a lockdown and ID's were being checked at the gate, which was first time this had happened since the first Gulf War. I was in line about halfway down North Gate Road when the reports that the first tower had fallen came out. I also remember being parked on I-5 listening to the reports. It took me over 3 hours to get to work, and I was one of the few in my clinic that actually made it to work. We spent most of the day, staring at the TV, watching the video feeds over and over. I remember walking around in a daze for much of the day.
On September 11, I think it is important to reflect on that day and on where we live and what we stand for. What caused me to write today's entry was a Facebook entry from someone who apparently "can't handle" all the public stuff that goes on every year. Well... deal with it! Or choose another country to live in, one that probably does not have all the freedoms with which we are endowed in this country. Yes, other countries have been violated in their past, but we live in a country that is regarded in a different manner than any other country in the world.
The thing that, well, pisses me off, is the attitude of entitlement that permeates some in our country. We live the way we live because of sacrifices that a small portion of our population makes. And yes, we recognize the armed forces on certain days of the year, and the rest of the year, much of what is done by them is below our consciousness. Okay, maybe I'm more sensitive to this, because I am a Veteran, and I work in an institution that is part of the armed forces, and I have had friends and acquaintances that are or were on Active Duty. They have made sacrifices, from missing their children's first birthday and not being able to be there as a parent or spouse, to injuries which will last a lifetime. When you speak with someone who has been deployed, invariably they will make light of the situation, focusing on the lighthearted moments that occurred. What they won't or don't do is dwell on the negatives.
This September 11th is nearly over; I hope that this date will always be in the public eye and we never forget.
I am off of my soapbox now.
Monday, September 9, 2013
The season... is over
It's funny. It is early September, and there is still a lot of good weather left. But I am done racing this year, and I think my body knows it. And maybe there was a message in the fortune cookie that I got last night at dinner:
Over the last week, I've transitioned to off-season mode. Several years ago, I stopped lifting for a variety of reasons. While my last race was my fastest, and I felt strong throughout, I also noticed that my leg strength has waned. Now, maybe it's the lack of miles I have put in, but I decided to head back to the gym and restart my lifting program. I also think my philosophy has changed a bit where I'm looking not just at triathlon shape, but also at my overall health.
The first thing I noticed was how weak I've gotten. I'm hoping that much of it is simply related to technique, and learning how to balance weights again. But I also felt my legs nearly cramp after doing leg presses (after doing squats) with not that much weight. It's going to be a fun challenge to regain some strength. The second I noticed was the titanium plate in my clavicle. Although I have been doing push ups without any problem, bench press with a barbell caused a strange sensation in my shoulder/clavicle when I did it, kind of a stretch/pop thing. While not painful, it wasn't exactly pleasant. I'll have to keep an eye on that.
I hopped on the bike yesterday to do some time on the trainer. And there was not much motivation in it. My legs were still tight from lifting 3 days earlier, and I just didn't have much interest. I think this is another sign that the season is over for me. I'm going to try to get on my trainer several times this week just to keep things going, but I'm guessing they'll be more of a spin session than any harder work. That's okay by me for now.
And as I was running this weekend, I kept thinking about one of my all-time favorite songs, "Long Time," by Boston. The lyrics seemed to fit my recollections of how I feel during races and training:
"It's (sic) been such a long time
I think I should be goin'
And time doesn't wait for me, it keeps on rollin'
Sail on, on a distant highway
I've got to keep on chasin' a dream
I've gotta be on my way
Wish there was something I could say.
Well I'm takin' my time, I'm just movin' on
You'll forget about me after I've been gone
And I take what I find, I don't want no more
It's just outside of your front door.
It's been such a long time. It's been such a long time."
Keep in mind that this is a mid-70's song, and one of the songs of my youth.
The first thing I noticed was how weak I've gotten. I'm hoping that much of it is simply related to technique, and learning how to balance weights again. But I also felt my legs nearly cramp after doing leg presses (after doing squats) with not that much weight. It's going to be a fun challenge to regain some strength. The second I noticed was the titanium plate in my clavicle. Although I have been doing push ups without any problem, bench press with a barbell caused a strange sensation in my shoulder/clavicle when I did it, kind of a stretch/pop thing. While not painful, it wasn't exactly pleasant. I'll have to keep an eye on that.
I hopped on the bike yesterday to do some time on the trainer. And there was not much motivation in it. My legs were still tight from lifting 3 days earlier, and I just didn't have much interest. I think this is another sign that the season is over for me. I'm going to try to get on my trainer several times this week just to keep things going, but I'm guessing they'll be more of a spin session than any harder work. That's okay by me for now.
And as I was running this weekend, I kept thinking about one of my all-time favorite songs, "Long Time," by Boston. The lyrics seemed to fit my recollections of how I feel during races and training:
"It's (sic) been such a long time
I think I should be goin'
And time doesn't wait for me, it keeps on rollin'
Sail on, on a distant highway
I've got to keep on chasin' a dream
I've gotta be on my way
Wish there was something I could say.
Well I'm takin' my time, I'm just movin' on
You'll forget about me after I've been gone
And I take what I find, I don't want no more
It's just outside of your front door.
It's been such a long time. It's been such a long time."
Keep in mind that this is a mid-70's song, and one of the songs of my youth.
Thursday, September 5, 2013
Old bikes vs. new bikes
As I was setting up my bike on Friday, I got a call from Bryan Brosious. He was opting out of Bonney Lake. Apparently, all of the 7 hour drives from Montana had taken their toll on him; that, and 12 previous races. He said he was tired. I definitely would have been.
Since David had water polo practice on Saturday morning, he wasn't racing. And since someone had to drive him to practice, Tracy wasn't going. It was just going to be a solo journey for me, so I figured I'd do the race, load back up, and head home. No breakfast at The Buttered Biscuit in Sumner this year.
Saturday morning was beautiful, although a bit dark at 5:00 AM. I loaded up and headed out to Bonney Lake, getting to the race site at around 6:15 AM... for an 8:30 AM race start. Okay, I was a bit early, but I got a great parking spot. Dave Tollefson spotted me immediately and said hi. I got my race packet and set up my bike at the car, then headed into transition, saying hello to Rory Muller and chatting with him briefly. I've been doing Rory's races since he started them, and he and his wife, Deanna, have definitely gotten it figured out. Their races run pretty smoothly now, and Rory and Deanna do a nice job with thinking about the participants. As I racked my bike, Drew Magill showed up with his P5. It's a nice bike... a REALLY nice bike. I realized that my beloved P3 is now 8 years old, and that, despite all of the newer bikes around, I really don't have any need or desire to change bikes. Mark Doane showed up soon after with his P4. While Drew was racked next to me, Mark was on the next rack over. It would have been fun to have Mark on the same rack, so that we would have had a P3, P4, and P5 next to each other. Oh well, here's a picture of the P3 with Drew's P5 in the background:
I saw Paul Palumbo shortly after. He asked me to look at his bike after the race, because he found a crack in the frame and wondered if he needed to replace it. He has a QR TiPhoon that is about the same age as my P3. What seemed strange was that it is titanium, and it had cracked. That just isn't right.
And then I saw Karen Antonowicz and little Lucas. Karen had mentioned that Bruce needed to do the Bonney Lake race to A) defend his title; and B) go out to The Buttered Biscuit. So, it looked like I was going out to breakfast after the race after all. I saw Bruce, and kidded him about coming out of retirement. He smiled, but had his game face on already. He looked intent on defending his title.
The race went well for me, except for the swim. As usual, I was in the scrum, and then, for the first time ever, somebody managed to yank my goggles off of my head around 150 yards into the swim. This was very odd, since it is difficult to do, because I put my goggles on under my swim cap. So, I lost probably 15-20 seconds getting them back on and then proceeded on and finished. I got on my bike and headed out, hammering the entire way, since I knew I had some catching up to do. I passed a fair amount of Olympic racers, but was passed by two sprint racers early on who flew by me, which was another unusual event. I guess they were even worse swimmers than I am. I got back to transition, and traded my bike for my running shoes. Because the bike course is set up as a loop, I had no idea what place I was in, but I knew I needed to run fast. I caught Paul heading out of transition and told him to run with me. I got a grunt in reply, and figured that I was on my own. Karen saw me soon after and took this picture:
Throughout the bike and run, I felt dead and couldn't go any harder. After looking at my results, I knew why. Despite my lack of training this year, my bike and run splits were the fastest I've ever gone at Bonney Lake. So, maybe the 4 straight weeks of racing helped get me into better sprint shape. I finished 8th OA and 2nd in my AG, not a bad showing, but I never saw Bruce, Drew, or Mark on the course. They were way ahead of me. Unfortunately for Drew, he missed the first turn on the run and ran off the course, so he DQ'd himself. Having missed that turn myself in 2009 (the first year), I knew that it was easy to do; I was saved back then, because a spectator yelled at me and re-directed me back after only a few yards. Bruce was able to defend his title, and Mark was 2nd, the second week in a row that Mark finished 2nd.
Picture of the 45-49 podium (as Tracy so lovingly needles me, I am First Loser):
On Tuesday, I had been reading about questions regarding new bikes, such as the Cervelo S5 and new S3. When I got home, I decided to go for a ride, and grabbed my road bike, which is now nearly 18 years old. I realized that, while there are a lot of new bikes out there, and are tantalizing, especially to David, I have no desire (or need) to change bikes. Drew's P5 with Di2 was really cool, but I still like the looks of my P3 better. And my Ti Cycles Road Bike is timeless, even after 18 years, and still gives me a wonderful ride. When I had originally had it built, I wanted a classic look, so it has a horizontal top tube and 700c wheels. Dave Levy had suggested 650c wheels and a sloping top tube for a more compact geometry, but I didn't like that look. And I'm definitely glad I did it that way. It even has Campagnolo Record, which I changed from 8 speed Dura-Ace some years back. There is something about how a classic bicycle looks that trumps all of the modern swoopy designs.
Of course, I might consider Di2 for them in the future...
Friday, July 26, 2013
New Kit!
Well, it took a little longer than expected, but I got my new kit, and wore it at the Lakewood race.
And all together:
Friday, July 19, 2013
Gotta love hometown racing!
The Lakewood race had a split transition area, which is logistically a bit complicated. Figuring that it might take longer than usual to get set up, we left for T1 before 7:00 for a 9:00 race. It was a short drive (planning it out right, we could have even ridden our bikes to T2 and then T1, rather than driven, but oh well) and there was plenty of room on the racks for our bikes. Just before heading to T2, a long-lost triathlon friend, Paul Palumbo, walked up to say hi. Paul and I raced against each other for several years in the late 90's-early 00's. At each of the races, we would usually end up within seconds of each other. So, it made for a good friendship/competition. One of his last races was USAT Age-Group Nats in Idaho when some joker spread carpet tacks all over the road. So, it was a pleasant surprise to see Paul after all these years. We chatted briefly, and then he went to set up his bike, while David and I headed off to T2.
It was kind of strange setting up T2: a towel, a pair of shoes, and a race belt, and that was it. I kept thinking there was something that was missing. Of course, I had already forgotten to leave my cycling shoes in T1, so I had them with me to bring back on the shuttle. After going over and over the race, I thought, "Nope. That's all I need in T2." Meanwhile, David and similarly set up his T2. I stopped worrying about David a few races back. He knows what he needs to do and, very quietly, just goes about his business. Because I have been doing this for a looooong time, I will see someone I know nearly all the time, and waste time chatting away, so he's always waiting for me. We walked off to catch the shuttle, and ran into Nick Johnson, last year's winner. I've raced against Nick for awhile, and I think I may have beaten him once or twice, very early in his triathlon career. Now, though, there's no chance; Nick is usually in a completely different race than I am. If someone swims, bikes, and runs faster than you, well, guess what? You are not going to beat them... ever. It's still fun to see how close I can come to the young guys, though. I also ran into Trev Daken, who was third last year. Trev was wearing a shirt from last year's Whidbey Island Triathlon that looked like an old PeeChee folder, which was pretty cool.
We traveled back to T1 on the shuttle and got ready for the race. (Pre-race photo, before all of the fun!)
After getting settled in and waiting, we gathered at the water's edge for the briefing and got ready to go. The swim course was well-marked, better than any course I've been on in memory. Each buoy was large and the course was color-coded: 2 green buoys, then a red turn buoy, 2 orange buoys, then a red turn buoy, and 2 yellow buoys at the swim exit. It was easy to sight and follow. The gun went off, and I found my space quickly, not being pummeled as I normally am. At the second green buoy I found myself next to a guy swimming without a wetsuit at the same pace that I was going. We made the turn, and he executed a half-roll and instantly gapped me by a body length. Figuring that he must be a "swimmer," I picked up the pace and got on his toes. After sighting a couple of times, I realized that he was swimming pretty straight and swam with him, mostly just off his waist. We made it to shore, and I ran up the boat ramp. As I entered T1, I saw Paul, getting ready to leave. I quickly got my helmet on and wetsuit off, and then, not so quickly, put it in the bag and tied it shut. That took a bit more time than I wanted, but I figured that everyone was in the same boat, since this was a split transition. I put on my shoes, got to the mount line and jumped on. The person in front of me was trying to get his feet in his shoes and was weaving back and forth heading left. I yelled, "On your left, your left, YOUR LEFT!" as he kept moving left. As I went past him, I realized it was George, and we briefly acknowledged each other with wry smiles. I headed off in hot pursuit of whomever was in front of me.
The bike course was on roads that I know well. Really well. I had ridden most of it with David the week previous to show him exactly where I thought it was based on the map. Looking more closely on the day before, I realized I was mistaken about the North Fort Lewis (I know it's JBLM, but I will probably always call it North Fort), so we drove it. I was correct about the course. As I hammered along Dupont-Steilacoom Highway I saw David in front of me. I passed him at 8 miles and saw Paul in front of me. I had told Paul that both hills were big chainring hills, and I climbed the Dupont-Steilacoom hill in my big chainring, alternately sitting and standing. As I crested the hill and started on the flats, I picked up speed. As I headed down the hill into Steilacoom, I had the fleeting thought to turn into Cormorant Passage towards home, but realized that I needed to keep going straight. I started freewheeling about halfway down the hill, hitting 40 MPH in the aero position. (Paul, David, and I had talked about whether it was wise to stay aero down the hill before the race.) Initially, as I was heading down, my right hand went to my brake lever while I remained mostly aero. I realized that I didn't feel out of control and went back to full aero, staying in the car lane to avoid the drains on the side. The rest of the bike was uneventful, and I headed into T2, still not knowing what place I was in.
I put on my running shoes and headed out of T2 about 10 seconds behind Paul. Funny. After all these years, we still are about the same pace. As we turned on the trail, we started heading up a hill that I also knew really well. I was gaining on Paul, and made the decision to hammer past him about halfway up the hill. I also knew that I needed to keep pushing to the top of the hill, so I would be out of sight for a bit, and, hopefully, out of mind. I knew that my advantage over Paul was that I knew how long the hill was, and when it would end. After that, the run went kind of as expected. The run course meandered back and forth until we headed towards the finish. With a half mile to go, I heard footsteps and was passed by a guy MUCH younger, taller, and faster than me. I knew there was no way I'd be able to stay with him. I finished 7th overall, just in front of George.
David came in soon afterwards. He had another great race and finished 14th overall. My instructions at the swim start were to stay on Nick's toes. He said he did that until there was around 150 yards left, and then "panicked," and took off and dropped Nick, so that he was 2nd out of the water. His other funny story was that he quickly put on his helmet, took off his wetsuit, grabbed his bike and headed out of T1. It was only when he went to mount his bike that he realized that he had forgotten his shoes.
David ended up 2nd in his AG (19 and under) and I won my AG, so it was a good day for both of us.
Friday, July 12, 2013
Voices (or drumbeats) in my head
I ran yesterday morning, a couple of days after the worst run I've had in a long time. 3 days ago, it was 80 degrees and sunny when I ran in the afternoon. I felt tired from the start, but thought that it would improve as I got into it. The plan was to run a long tempo, but two miles into it, I bailed and finished the rest of the six miles at an easy pace. I felt horrible the entire time. So, yesterday morning, I had no preconceived ideas about how I would feel, since I was running at 5:00 AM, and I am NOT a morning runner. Within the first 1/4 mile, I could sense that I was going to feel much better.
While I was running, I tried to go over the new Taiko song that our group is working on for Obon. The song is complex, with a lot of different, but similar phrases, and many different katas (movements). Since Taiko drumming is as much about the choreography as the music, it is pretty challenging to remember the correct order and movements. I spent the entire run, reviewing the music and the katas. My run went well, and I think I have most of the song by memory. I'll certainly find out during our next rehearsal. I'm sure I made an interesting picture, swinging my arms around at seemingly random times during my run.
It's funny how different one run is from the next. I had anticipated the tempo run all day, figuring that the warmth would make me feel good. And I didn't think a 5:00 AM run would feel good at all. Of course, it was the complete opposite. I guess 30 degrees and bright sunshine do make a difference. I was reading an article about Bevan Docherty where he says that racing in the heat is all a matter of fitness. Obviously, from my run on Tuesday, I'm not very fit. Hopefully, I'll acclimate and get more fit by the end of the summer.
While I was running, I tried to go over the new Taiko song that our group is working on for Obon. The song is complex, with a lot of different, but similar phrases, and many different katas (movements). Since Taiko drumming is as much about the choreography as the music, it is pretty challenging to remember the correct order and movements. I spent the entire run, reviewing the music and the katas. My run went well, and I think I have most of the song by memory. I'll certainly find out during our next rehearsal. I'm sure I made an interesting picture, swinging my arms around at seemingly random times during my run.
It's funny how different one run is from the next. I had anticipated the tempo run all day, figuring that the warmth would make me feel good. And I didn't think a 5:00 AM run would feel good at all. Of course, it was the complete opposite. I guess 30 degrees and bright sunshine do make a difference. I was reading an article about Bevan Docherty where he says that racing in the heat is all a matter of fitness. Obviously, from my run on Tuesday, I'm not very fit. Hopefully, I'll acclimate and get more fit by the end of the summer.
Friday, June 21, 2013
Talkin' 'bout my generation
"Hope I die before I get old." So goes a line from The Who's "My Generation." I thought of this immediately after reading this article.
http://www.bloomberg.com/news/2013-06-20/men-over-40-should-think-twice-before-running-triathlons.html
I am a MAMIL. What is this? "Middle-aged man in lycra." Apparently, I'm exercising too hard for my own good. If you read the article, the recommendation is to run no more than 7 miles/hour and no more than 20 miles/week if I know what's good for me. This is according to a study that was put out by Ochsner as cited in the article. Well, that's not exactly what the study says, and I'm going to need to look at the original study. What it appears the study says is that once you exceed 5-7 miles/hour, 20 miles/week, or more than 5 days/week, you don't decrease your risk of mortality any lower. So, if you are doing more than that, you are exercising for more than the health benefits. Well, what do you know? It has long been known that exercising more or harder doesn't necessarily make you any healthier. That's why for overall health benefits, brisk walking is as effective, for the most part, as running. But I don't swim, bike, and run entirely for health benefits. I do them, because I (okay, now is when I admit it) truly enjoy racing triathlons. My training, while it helps with my health, is designed to get me to the finish line as fast as I can during a race. When I'm training, especially training hard, I can't say that I'm enjoying the moment. But I do savor how I feel and definitely like the feeling of accomplishment after my workout has been completed.
Tracy says that I'm addicted to exercise. I definitely feel better when I've had a chance to exercise during the day. And I plan to keep exercising for the rest of my life, much longer than I will be a MAMIL. If you have to choose an addiction, exercise ain't the worst one to have. And Tracy's fine with my exercise addiction. If I exhaust myself, I'm a lot less likely to get into trouble. And she's also fine with my spending money on bikes and such, because it's a reasonably healthy way to spend money.
So, clearly I don't agree with the article. I guess I'm a bit frustrated that drivel like this continue to get published. And I'm equally frustrated that I wasted 5-10 minutes of life reading it. So, if you did click on the link and read the article, I'm sorry for wasting 5-10 minutes of your life as well.
http://www.bloomberg.com/news/2013-06-20/men-over-40-should-think-twice-before-running-triathlons.html
I am a MAMIL. What is this? "Middle-aged man in lycra." Apparently, I'm exercising too hard for my own good. If you read the article, the recommendation is to run no more than 7 miles/hour and no more than 20 miles/week if I know what's good for me. This is according to a study that was put out by Ochsner as cited in the article. Well, that's not exactly what the study says, and I'm going to need to look at the original study. What it appears the study says is that once you exceed 5-7 miles/hour, 20 miles/week, or more than 5 days/week, you don't decrease your risk of mortality any lower. So, if you are doing more than that, you are exercising for more than the health benefits. Well, what do you know? It has long been known that exercising more or harder doesn't necessarily make you any healthier. That's why for overall health benefits, brisk walking is as effective, for the most part, as running. But I don't swim, bike, and run entirely for health benefits. I do them, because I (okay, now is when I admit it) truly enjoy racing triathlons. My training, while it helps with my health, is designed to get me to the finish line as fast as I can during a race. When I'm training, especially training hard, I can't say that I'm enjoying the moment. But I do savor how I feel and definitely like the feeling of accomplishment after my workout has been completed.
Tracy says that I'm addicted to exercise. I definitely feel better when I've had a chance to exercise during the day. And I plan to keep exercising for the rest of my life, much longer than I will be a MAMIL. If you have to choose an addiction, exercise ain't the worst one to have. And Tracy's fine with my exercise addiction. If I exhaust myself, I'm a lot less likely to get into trouble. And she's also fine with my spending money on bikes and such, because it's a reasonably healthy way to spend money.
So, clearly I don't agree with the article. I guess I'm a bit frustrated that drivel like this continue to get published. And I'm equally frustrated that I wasted 5-10 minutes of life reading it. So, if you did click on the link and read the article, I'm sorry for wasting 5-10 minutes of your life as well.
Monday, June 17, 2013
Two years, one plate, and nine screws ago
Last Saturday was the 2 year anniversary of the start of "The Summer of My Discontent," or "The Summer of the Chair of Healing." For the last 15+ years, the first of the Fort Lewis Triple Threat Triathlons took place on the day before Father's Day. And on that morning, it would rain. It didn't matter if the weather was beautiful for the 2 weeks leading up to the race; come Saturday morning, it would rain. And two years ago, it was the same. It was actually a hard rain, one that had me thinking about DNS'ing. But, I decided to go ahead a race, and crashed, fracturing my clavicle. Since then, it has been a slow road back, and I still don't have anywhere near the fitness I had going into that race and for years previous. Whether it's my age (either chronological or endurance sport or both) or change in life priorities, coming back from that injury has not happened the way I expected.
This year, Fort Lewis (now JBLM) change the format of their Triathlon series. There would be no June race, so of course, last Saturday was bright, sunny, and warm. After a busy morning, David and I got out on a bike ride. Without Photoshopping in Mount Rainier, here's a snapshot of what I saw out on the back range:
I wouldn't change anything that has happened to me over the years. Well, except for maybe that Saturday morning two years ago...
This year, Fort Lewis (now JBLM) change the format of their Triathlon series. There would be no June race, so of course, last Saturday was bright, sunny, and warm. After a busy morning, David and I got out on a bike ride. Without Photoshopping in Mount Rainier, here's a snapshot of what I saw out on the back range:
Wednesday, June 12, 2013
Start of a new season... and I'm not ready! (Warning: this is long)
Every winter, I have great plans to really get my fitness in order, so I can have a great triathlon season. This year, I didn't make plans. It is a busy time for the family, and I don't have a burning need to do a particular race this year. Couple that with the fact that we're planning on a family vacation at the end of the summer and the end result is that I've been slacking on my training.
My hope was that I would be able to swim consistently with David's swim team, and that would help my swim fitness. Well, that didn't work for a variety of reasons. Since I no longer have a membership to the Y, and Keeler Gym remains closed to everyone, I haven't been lifting very often. And with every weekend being busy and raining, I didn't get out on my bike much. And now the season has started and I've already paid the price.
Last weekend, David and I traveled to Moses Lake for a sprint triathlon. The weather forecast was for a sunny and warm day, and we were both happy with that. As I loaded up the van, David's breath smelled like a cough drop, and I asked him if he was sick. He mentioned that he had a bit of a sore throat. We headed off on I-5 to Highway 18, and the first sign that it might be a long trip was reader board on I-5 that mentioned a roll-over semi accident on I-90E past Snoqualmie Pass that closed the road completely. Uh-oh. The prediction was that it would be several hours before anyone got through. As we exited onto Highway 18, there was a traffic jam. I switched over to the news on the radio and got confirmation that I-90 was bad, but no real reason why 18 was snarled. As we inched past the Auburn exits, traffic opened up, and there was no obvious reason for the slowdown. We reached North Bend in good time, and stopped at Subway. At that point, we decided to eat in the restaurant, since it didn't make much sense to be in a hurry. After about 30 minutes, we headed back onto I-90 and had smooth sailing until Exit 52. There, we saw the traffic stopped, and people walking on the road. Rats! Still closed. Meanwhile, I noticed that David was pretty congested, and he started hunting around in the console for some decongestants. He ended up popping a couple after he found them. After about 90 minutes, we started moving, barely. It took another 30 minutes or so to get to Exit 54, and by that time, it was 10:00 PM and dark. Finally, we started to move, and made it to Moses Lake around 11:45 PM. I learned that I don't like driving in the dark anymore. So, instead of an easy drive to Moses Lake, planning to arrive at a comfortable 6:30, it was around Midnight by the time we got checked in and unloaded all the gear. Well, at least the race started at 10:00 AM, so we could sleep in.
At 6:30 AM, Tracy called. Double rats! She innocently said that she expected we would have been up and getting ready (she didn't realize that Moses Lake started at 10:00 AM, which is why it's one of my new favorite races). We got up shortly after that and wandered down to breakfast. David was feeling better, with only a bit of congestion and no sore throat.
At the race site, we went to pick up our registration packets and met up with Bryan Brosious. We were happy to see him, and he was happy to see us. We exchanged pleasantries and then went to get our transition areas ready.
I decided to warm up just by running, foregoing my usual bike trainer warm up. Truth be told, I was lazy and didn't want to bring an extra wheel. However, my running warm up is always a bit on the short side; I just don't get motivated enough when I'm running.
The race went off as expected. The water was a good deal warmer than last year, and I was comfortable while I was swimming; well, except for the first 150 yards or so. When I looked at the results, I was 11th out of the water in my wave. Why is it, then, that I got so beaten up at the start? I started in the second row, and was getting beat up until the buoy, and then, even after the buoy, there were people jostling me. Seems to me that if people would just seed themselves where they should be instead of expecting to set a PB, the swim would be a lot less chaotic and painful for us all. But, anyway, I digress.
When I got out of the water and headed to transition, I saw that David and his bike were already gone. I had told him that I expected him to be about 1:30 faster than me in the swim. I ended passing only a handful of people. I saw Bryan coming back towards me at around 4.5 miles. He was alone in front. And then I saw David. He was sailing along in 2nd place! I made the turn, and headed back with a tailwind. I finally caught David at mile 10; he was in 3rd place by then, having been passed. We ended up in transition together, and, as I turned around looking for the transition out in my hypoxic daze, yelling, "Which way?!" he helped his Dad out, and pointed me in the correct direction. His comment was, "I'm dead." Given how sick he was the day before, and how hard he went in the swim and bike, that was understandable. Leaving transition in 2nd place (3rd place guy was stuck, cramping in transition), I felt dead, too. I was going as hard as I could, but it wasn't very fast. I was rapidly passed by Josh Fitchitt, and knew that there was no way I was going to catch him. For the remainder of the race, I was in damage control mode, looking behind to make sure nobody could catch me and take me off of the podium. Bryan and I passed each other at a little past the 1 mile mark, and he looked strong. I saw David on my way back, and he was working hard, too. I finished in 3rd place overall, feeling happy, but hot and tired, a good 7 minutes in back of Bryan. David finished in 10th, 5 minutes behind me, and 10 minutes faster than he raced last year.
I have a ways to go to feel good about my fitness. Right now, I'm fighting a cold, which David gave to me. I guess spending 12+ hours in close proximity to my sick son did it.
What did I learn? Apparently, I'm faster in the water this year, but my swim fitness is poor. My time was virtually the same this year as it was last, but I got tired in the water. My bike time was 1 minute faster, but the conditions were a lot better. And I have different wheels, which may have been faster, although I'm not sure about this. And, despite feeling much worse, my run time was only 26 seconds slower, which could easily have been due to the heat.
What else did I learn? It takes me nearly twice as long to get things ready as it did when I worried only about myself; prepping David's bike and mine and then reconfiguring it out of race mode is double the work. Here are our race setups:
My hope was that I would be able to swim consistently with David's swim team, and that would help my swim fitness. Well, that didn't work for a variety of reasons. Since I no longer have a membership to the Y, and Keeler Gym remains closed to everyone, I haven't been lifting very often. And with every weekend being busy and raining, I didn't get out on my bike much. And now the season has started and I've already paid the price.
Last weekend, David and I traveled to Moses Lake for a sprint triathlon. The weather forecast was for a sunny and warm day, and we were both happy with that. As I loaded up the van, David's breath smelled like a cough drop, and I asked him if he was sick. He mentioned that he had a bit of a sore throat. We headed off on I-5 to Highway 18, and the first sign that it might be a long trip was reader board on I-5 that mentioned a roll-over semi accident on I-90E past Snoqualmie Pass that closed the road completely. Uh-oh. The prediction was that it would be several hours before anyone got through. As we exited onto Highway 18, there was a traffic jam. I switched over to the news on the radio and got confirmation that I-90 was bad, but no real reason why 18 was snarled. As we inched past the Auburn exits, traffic opened up, and there was no obvious reason for the slowdown. We reached North Bend in good time, and stopped at Subway. At that point, we decided to eat in the restaurant, since it didn't make much sense to be in a hurry. After about 30 minutes, we headed back onto I-90 and had smooth sailing until Exit 52. There, we saw the traffic stopped, and people walking on the road. Rats! Still closed. Meanwhile, I noticed that David was pretty congested, and he started hunting around in the console for some decongestants. He ended up popping a couple after he found them. After about 90 minutes, we started moving, barely. It took another 30 minutes or so to get to Exit 54, and by that time, it was 10:00 PM and dark. Finally, we started to move, and made it to Moses Lake around 11:45 PM. I learned that I don't like driving in the dark anymore. So, instead of an easy drive to Moses Lake, planning to arrive at a comfortable 6:30, it was around Midnight by the time we got checked in and unloaded all the gear. Well, at least the race started at 10:00 AM, so we could sleep in.
At 6:30 AM, Tracy called. Double rats! She innocently said that she expected we would have been up and getting ready (she didn't realize that Moses Lake started at 10:00 AM, which is why it's one of my new favorite races). We got up shortly after that and wandered down to breakfast. David was feeling better, with only a bit of congestion and no sore throat.
At the race site, we went to pick up our registration packets and met up with Bryan Brosious. We were happy to see him, and he was happy to see us. We exchanged pleasantries and then went to get our transition areas ready.
I decided to warm up just by running, foregoing my usual bike trainer warm up. Truth be told, I was lazy and didn't want to bring an extra wheel. However, my running warm up is always a bit on the short side; I just don't get motivated enough when I'm running.
The race went off as expected. The water was a good deal warmer than last year, and I was comfortable while I was swimming; well, except for the first 150 yards or so. When I looked at the results, I was 11th out of the water in my wave. Why is it, then, that I got so beaten up at the start? I started in the second row, and was getting beat up until the buoy, and then, even after the buoy, there were people jostling me. Seems to me that if people would just seed themselves where they should be instead of expecting to set a PB, the swim would be a lot less chaotic and painful for us all. But, anyway, I digress.
When I got out of the water and headed to transition, I saw that David and his bike were already gone. I had told him that I expected him to be about 1:30 faster than me in the swim. I ended passing only a handful of people. I saw Bryan coming back towards me at around 4.5 miles. He was alone in front. And then I saw David. He was sailing along in 2nd place! I made the turn, and headed back with a tailwind. I finally caught David at mile 10; he was in 3rd place by then, having been passed. We ended up in transition together, and, as I turned around looking for the transition out in my hypoxic daze, yelling, "Which way?!" he helped his Dad out, and pointed me in the correct direction. His comment was, "I'm dead." Given how sick he was the day before, and how hard he went in the swim and bike, that was understandable. Leaving transition in 2nd place (3rd place guy was stuck, cramping in transition), I felt dead, too. I was going as hard as I could, but it wasn't very fast. I was rapidly passed by Josh Fitchitt, and knew that there was no way I was going to catch him. For the remainder of the race, I was in damage control mode, looking behind to make sure nobody could catch me and take me off of the podium. Bryan and I passed each other at a little past the 1 mile mark, and he looked strong. I saw David on my way back, and he was working hard, too. I finished in 3rd place overall, feeling happy, but hot and tired, a good 7 minutes in back of Bryan. David finished in 10th, 5 minutes behind me, and 10 minutes faster than he raced last year.
I have a ways to go to feel good about my fitness. Right now, I'm fighting a cold, which David gave to me. I guess spending 12+ hours in close proximity to my sick son did it.
What did I learn? Apparently, I'm faster in the water this year, but my swim fitness is poor. My time was virtually the same this year as it was last, but I got tired in the water. My bike time was 1 minute faster, but the conditions were a lot better. And I have different wheels, which may have been faster, although I'm not sure about this. And, despite feeling much worse, my run time was only 26 seconds slower, which could easily have been due to the heat.
What else did I learn? It takes me nearly twice as long to get things ready as it did when I worried only about myself; prepping David's bike and mine and then reconfiguring it out of race mode is double the work. Here are our race setups:
 |
My P3 with Zipp 404's
The podium shot from Moses Lake:
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Thursday, May 23, 2013
All shoes are created equal... but some are more equal than others
I ran in a new pair of shoes yesterday. I have been running in the Newton Terra Momentums and the Saucony Kinvaras. Whenever I run in the Newtons, the runs are a bit more "sloggy." Or put another way, I always feel lighter and bouncier in the Kinvaras. This has been surprising, since all of my other Newtons have felt bouncy. And since I've given them a good 200 miles to see if they changed (and they didn't), I thought it might be the shoes. Spring, being what it is, I decided to break out a new pair of shoes, the Newton Distance S (below).
They are NOS, as the deal between the Army Triathlon Club and Newton changed last year, so I decided to stock up while I could. As soon as I started running in them, I knew that
the difference was in the shoes. These Newtons have the same bouncy feel that I previously had experienced. I ended up doing some tempo work and was pleasantly surprised that 6:30 pace didn't feel all that bad. It's funny, though; since the technology was similar, I thought that the Terra Momentums would feel the same as the Motions that I had previously used. But they were definitely not the same.
In a similar way, I ran in Saucony Mirages 2 years ago. They are similar to the Kinvaras, but made to be a bit more stable. I had the same dead feel in the Mirages as I do in the Terras. The Kinvaras are much more lively. Moral of the story: even if shoes are supposed to be very similar, there can be light-years difference in the feel. I haven't decided whether I'll just shelve the Terras for awhile, but I'm tempted.
Tuesday, May 7, 2013
Bicycle, bicycle, I want to ride my bicycle
Yesterday was a treat. 85 and sunny in May here in the Pacific Northwest. I had originally planned to swim after work. However, since I spent all weekend at the pool, first announcing a swim meet, and then watching a water polo tournament, and it was the nicest weather weekend of the year, I felt that I needed to get outside. So, I raced hom from work, took my tri bike off the trainer, pumped up the tires, and headed out to enjoy the warm sunshine.
While it was just a short ride, I felt better than I have in a long time on the bike. It certainly wasn't my fitness, because I have not been riding enough. And it certainly wasn't my saddle, because I'm still working on finding the right one (perhaps more on that later). But, the heat and the warm wind did wonders for my outlook. I'm not sure if it is because I first started riding in Arizona, or whether it is just because my body feels better in the heat, or whether it's just nice to be out in the sun. All that I know is that, short though it was, yesterday's ride was the best of the year.
Now, I just need to get into better shape!
While it was just a short ride, I felt better than I have in a long time on the bike. It certainly wasn't my fitness, because I have not been riding enough. And it certainly wasn't my saddle, because I'm still working on finding the right one (perhaps more on that later). But, the heat and the warm wind did wonders for my outlook. I'm not sure if it is because I first started riding in Arizona, or whether it is just because my body feels better in the heat, or whether it's just nice to be out in the sun. All that I know is that, short though it was, yesterday's ride was the best of the year.
Now, I just need to get into better shape!
Friday, April 19, 2013
Who is this Catty Wampus guy and what did he do to my hip?
Recently, I've been seeing a chiropractor for my left hip. What happened? Well, it goes back to my fall during the Turkey Trot. Since then, after initially taking a week off from running due to hip pain, I have noticed that my left hip flexor tightens up after running at around 5 miles. There is also some compensatory tightness in my left low back that occurs at the same time. Finally, I decided to get some work done on it, because it wasn't getting better. Dr. Adamson confirmed that my hip flexors were all messed up, even mentioning that it felt as if I had torn some muscle tissue. I haven't been running well since that time, so it would make sense that I'm trying to compensate for injury.
The funniest thing is that my left leg feels "tight" after I run, as if it is jammed up and would feel better if someone yanked on it. Well, guess what? At my last visit, Dr. Adamson said, "You know, I think the muscles are causing you to have a leg length discrepancy; here, I'm going to distract your leg," grabbed my leg and, yes, yanked. And you know what? It felt better. I started laughing.
Yesterday, I ran 6.5 miles without significant pain, although I could feel my hip tightening up a bit at 4 miles. The good part is that, as I kept running, it seemed to let up a bit and I finished my run without pain or tightness. Looks like progress is being made.
I'm hoping that, if my left hip improves, I'll be able to feel better while running, and maybe, just maybe, I'll be able to run another marathon.
The funniest thing is that my left leg feels "tight" after I run, as if it is jammed up and would feel better if someone yanked on it. Well, guess what? At my last visit, Dr. Adamson said, "You know, I think the muscles are causing you to have a leg length discrepancy; here, I'm going to distract your leg," grabbed my leg and, yes, yanked. And you know what? It felt better. I started laughing.
Yesterday, I ran 6.5 miles without significant pain, although I could feel my hip tightening up a bit at 4 miles. The good part is that, as I kept running, it seemed to let up a bit and I finished my run without pain or tightness. Looks like progress is being made.
I'm hoping that, if my left hip improves, I'll be able to feel better while running, and maybe, just maybe, I'll be able to run another marathon.
Thursday, April 18, 2013
A wolf in goose's clothing or playing chicken with a goose
It's springtime... the time when sentient beings find it important to procreate. Why? Well, having progeny ensures that the species will survive. This survival mentality can make parents and prospective parents very cranky. And I ran into one of those a couple of days ago.
I have tried to get back into my routine of running at Noon. I have found that doing this ensures that I get at least one workout in during the day. Too often, if I delay my run until later, "something" will come up. It may be a meeting that I didn't remember, or it may be an errand that I need to do, but delaying my run usually leads to not running at all. At the very least, if I've got to wait until later, running after work before I head home works reasonably well. The limiting factor with my Noon runs has been my clinic schedule; if I have a busy morning or a Noon meeting, the run can't happen at that time. But, if I make sure I get my work done, I can head out for a run that provides, among other things, stress management.
On Tuesday, I headed out the door for my run, planning to circle the lagoon before heading out to the Log Center. As I headed down the path, there was a goose in the middle of path just standing there. I planned to run by and didn't give it another thought... until it started running towards me. Now, this was a bit unusual, as most birds run or fly away when you head towards them. Not this one. It dipped its head, hissed and ran at me with its beak open as if it was going to bite me. Sheesh! I've had dogs chase me while running, and, in most cases, if you don't back down and run at the dog, it will turn tail and run away. This goose was not going to back down. I don't know what was funnier: seeing a goose that reminded me of the AFLAC duck on steroids charging me, or the idea that a goose could scare me back into the building. I eventually headed back out, careful to avoid the goose by taking the stairs up to the main path.
On a more serious note, I was shocked and mesmerized by the events and coverage of the Boston Marathon on Monday. Watching the coverage, I had flashbacks of my previous Boston races, finishing down Boylston Street. The images were particularly disturbing to me, as I could recall the explosion locations exactly in my mind. And I kept watching, hoping that, similar to watching the twin towers fall and the Lady Diana car crash, it was a nightmare and wasn't real. Even though the rational part of my mind knew that this was real, somehow, the innocent part of my brain didn't want to believe that something like this could happen. My heart and thoughts go out to all of those who were affected by the events of Monday.
I have tried to get back into my routine of running at Noon. I have found that doing this ensures that I get at least one workout in during the day. Too often, if I delay my run until later, "something" will come up. It may be a meeting that I didn't remember, or it may be an errand that I need to do, but delaying my run usually leads to not running at all. At the very least, if I've got to wait until later, running after work before I head home works reasonably well. The limiting factor with my Noon runs has been my clinic schedule; if I have a busy morning or a Noon meeting, the run can't happen at that time. But, if I make sure I get my work done, I can head out for a run that provides, among other things, stress management.
On Tuesday, I headed out the door for my run, planning to circle the lagoon before heading out to the Log Center. As I headed down the path, there was a goose in the middle of path just standing there. I planned to run by and didn't give it another thought... until it started running towards me. Now, this was a bit unusual, as most birds run or fly away when you head towards them. Not this one. It dipped its head, hissed and ran at me with its beak open as if it was going to bite me. Sheesh! I've had dogs chase me while running, and, in most cases, if you don't back down and run at the dog, it will turn tail and run away. This goose was not going to back down. I don't know what was funnier: seeing a goose that reminded me of the AFLAC duck on steroids charging me, or the idea that a goose could scare me back into the building. I eventually headed back out, careful to avoid the goose by taking the stairs up to the main path.
On a more serious note, I was shocked and mesmerized by the events and coverage of the Boston Marathon on Monday. Watching the coverage, I had flashbacks of my previous Boston races, finishing down Boylston Street. The images were particularly disturbing to me, as I could recall the explosion locations exactly in my mind. And I kept watching, hoping that, similar to watching the twin towers fall and the Lady Diana car crash, it was a nightmare and wasn't real. Even though the rational part of my mind knew that this was real, somehow, the innocent part of my brain didn't want to believe that something like this could happen. My heart and thoughts go out to all of those who were affected by the events of Monday.
Monday, March 18, 2013
Why do I run?
Not quite like Forrest Gump, but a long time ago, in a cornfield far, far away, I started running. It has been a bit over 33 years ago that I started running for the sake of running. Before that, it was strictly to get into shape for basketball, and I couldn't see why you just ran. Of course, going back even farther in time, my Dad decided to wake up and jog around the block back when I was about 7 or 8. He would wake up my sister and me, and we'd accompany him on a run a short run. Even back then, I wasn't a morning person, so my morning runs were (and still are) painful.
I decided to go for a run yesterday afternoon. It wasn't raining, but was a bit chilly. Instead of trying to do a "workout," I just decided to go for a run: no intervals, no tempo, just run. And to change things up a bit, I decided to run along the water. The sun was even out, although it was a bit chilly. As I ran along the water, I looked around and remembered why I still love to run and ride. The days of competitive racing may end, but the pure enjoyment of being out and moving along using my own body to propel myself will continue. And yesterday, there were no distractions: no headphones, only an occasional car, and even my legs and feet were cooperating. And then I looked up and saw the eagle. It was soaring above me, effortlessly moving along on the wind. For a moment, it was just the eagle, the water, the sunshine, and me. And that's why I run.
I decided to go for a run yesterday afternoon. It wasn't raining, but was a bit chilly. Instead of trying to do a "workout," I just decided to go for a run: no intervals, no tempo, just run. And to change things up a bit, I decided to run along the water. The sun was even out, although it was a bit chilly. As I ran along the water, I looked around and remembered why I still love to run and ride. The days of competitive racing may end, but the pure enjoyment of being out and moving along using my own body to propel myself will continue. And yesterday, there were no distractions: no headphones, only an occasional car, and even my legs and feet were cooperating. And then I looked up and saw the eagle. It was soaring above me, effortlessly moving along on the wind. For a moment, it was just the eagle, the water, the sunshine, and me. And that's why I run.
Friday, March 8, 2013
Exposing the flaws
I've learned a lot about asymmetry over the past couple of weeks. I always tell my patients that, much as we like to believe we're symmetrical, we're not (as a species). So, for instance, while we have two kidneys, they are not placed in exactly the same spot in our anatomy. And while we have two lungs, the right has 3 lobes, while the left has 2. And most of us are naturally right- or left-handed. Using a couple of new devices, I've learned how asymmetric I am.
I bought a pair of Five Fingers several months ago. I have been curious about them, and found them on sale, so I figured that I'd give them a try. I hadn't used them until two weeks ago when I brought them to Arizona. After one of my runs, I changed into them and took them out for a quick spin. I immediately noticed that my left footstrike was funky, something I had never noticed before. I'm not sure how it has evolved over time, whether I've always done this or this is something new over the past few years, but the VFF's exposed this. Since then, I have been more conscious of this, especially when using the VFF's. While I am only up to about 0.75 miles in them, they do feel good in an interesting way.
This week, Ashley has designed a couple of sets with paddles. I noticed that I'm not finishing my stroke with my right arm. While I do finish my stroke on the left, my pull stops short on the right. This didn't become apparent to me until I used the paddles. When I finish my pull on the right (to the same point as my left), I generate a lot more distance, and I can definitely feel it in my muscles on the right. Again, whether this is recent or has been present for awhile (my best guess is that is related to my clavicle) is uncertain. But, certainly making my stroke more symmetric will help me swim better.
There are some people who have a lot of body awareness and don't need these kinds of tools to perceive how they move through space. For those of us that do need the proprioceptive assistance, there are definitely things out there that can help us mere mortals.
I bought a pair of Five Fingers several months ago. I have been curious about them, and found them on sale, so I figured that I'd give them a try. I hadn't used them until two weeks ago when I brought them to Arizona. After one of my runs, I changed into them and took them out for a quick spin. I immediately noticed that my left footstrike was funky, something I had never noticed before. I'm not sure how it has evolved over time, whether I've always done this or this is something new over the past few years, but the VFF's exposed this. Since then, I have been more conscious of this, especially when using the VFF's. While I am only up to about 0.75 miles in them, they do feel good in an interesting way.
This week, Ashley has designed a couple of sets with paddles. I noticed that I'm not finishing my stroke with my right arm. While I do finish my stroke on the left, my pull stops short on the right. This didn't become apparent to me until I used the paddles. When I finish my pull on the right (to the same point as my left), I generate a lot more distance, and I can definitely feel it in my muscles on the right. Again, whether this is recent or has been present for awhile (my best guess is that is related to my clavicle) is uncertain. But, certainly making my stroke more symmetric will help me swim better.
There are some people who have a lot of body awareness and don't need these kinds of tools to perceive how they move through space. For those of us that do need the proprioceptive assistance, there are definitely things out there that can help us mere mortals.
Monday, March 4, 2013
It's a long time 'til summer
The weather here has been pretty good. In truth, winter in the Pacific Northwest has been as mild as I can remember. Now, that is a relative thing. I don't like to train in the rain. If I had my druthers, I'd take colder, drier weather over warmer, rainier weather. So, I can't complain... much. Of course, in the past 3 months, I've also spent a week in Hawaii and a week in Arizona. While the temperature in Arizona was unseasonably cold, and we even had thunder, lightning, and hail on one day (and even snow? was reported), it was still a good bit nicer than it was in the Northwest. While we were in Arizona, David and I swam on 4 out of 6 days. Typically, the temperature in the mornings was in the upper 40's-low 50's:
On the day that we left Arizona, I ran in the morning. It was 37 degrees, but the sky was clear and blue, and the sun was shining brightly. I can tell you that 37 degrees in Arizona felt a whole lot warmer than 50 degrees does in the Pacific NW. My old body also feels a lot better in the Arizona sunshine than in the Pacific NW rain.
Wednesday, February 13, 2013
On running fast
(I originally wrote this over 1 week ago, but didn't have time to finish it. In light of yesterday's column, I'm putting it in today.)
I think I used to run fairly fast. I'm not sure how to define "fairly fast, though." But it sure isn't what I do now. And compared to how I ran in high school, at least for short distances, even when I was fairly fast, I was slow. Let's think about this:
In high school 200 repeats in :28 were easy. I remember doing a pre-race workout of 8 x 200's in :28 with jogs across the grass to recover and it was like a day off. Now, I don't think I could run a :28 all out. 2:40 800 repeats were also fairly easy.
When I was in college I remember running an 800 in 2:26. I was working hard but this was during a workout. Years later, I ran a 2:2x during a meet. I also ran a 4:4x 1500 during that meet. And somewhere in there were a few 5:02 miles. I don't think I ever broke 5:00 in a mile though.
When I moved up in distance, I remember running a 16:30 5K during a duathlon, and several open 16:5x's. Even as recently as 1998, I think, I ran a 17:00 5K at a race in Auburn. My PR for a 10K was 34:30 at the Super Bowl 10K in Tucson in early 1993 (I think). I remember running it in a brand new pair of racing flats, which I took out of the box that morning. I also remember tripping over a traffic cone and falling about halfway through the run. My PR for 8K/5 miles was set during the 1994 Army Ten-Miler when I went through in 27:30. I finished the race in 56:40 and was 101st out of around 10,000 (couldn't crack the top 100!). And my half-marathon PR is 1:20:xx. All of those were set in 1993-1994. And then I started running marathons...
I always said that I wouldn't run a marathon unless I could run 2:50. I figured that anything slower than that was just a slog. How naive I was! When I ran my first marathon, I was in 2:50 shape. I went through the first 18 miles at 2:50 pace and was comfortable. Unfortunately, I then got tired. Having never raced that far before, I faded badly, finishing in 3:05:59. And it has been all downhill since then.
Today, I ran 2 x 1 mile at 6:47 and 6:41. It's not fast, but I wasn't going all out, so I'm satisfied with how it went. It's still a far cry from my past, but since it's February, I'm hoping that things will get better (faster) by and by.
I think I used to run fairly fast. I'm not sure how to define "fairly fast, though." But it sure isn't what I do now. And compared to how I ran in high school, at least for short distances, even when I was fairly fast, I was slow. Let's think about this:
In high school 200 repeats in :28 were easy. I remember doing a pre-race workout of 8 x 200's in :28 with jogs across the grass to recover and it was like a day off. Now, I don't think I could run a :28 all out. 2:40 800 repeats were also fairly easy.
When I was in college I remember running an 800 in 2:26. I was working hard but this was during a workout. Years later, I ran a 2:2x during a meet. I also ran a 4:4x 1500 during that meet. And somewhere in there were a few 5:02 miles. I don't think I ever broke 5:00 in a mile though.
When I moved up in distance, I remember running a 16:30 5K during a duathlon, and several open 16:5x's. Even as recently as 1998, I think, I ran a 17:00 5K at a race in Auburn. My PR for a 10K was 34:30 at the Super Bowl 10K in Tucson in early 1993 (I think). I remember running it in a brand new pair of racing flats, which I took out of the box that morning. I also remember tripping over a traffic cone and falling about halfway through the run. My PR for 8K/5 miles was set during the 1994 Army Ten-Miler when I went through in 27:30. I finished the race in 56:40 and was 101st out of around 10,000 (couldn't crack the top 100!). And my half-marathon PR is 1:20:xx. All of those were set in 1993-1994. And then I started running marathons...
I always said that I wouldn't run a marathon unless I could run 2:50. I figured that anything slower than that was just a slog. How naive I was! When I ran my first marathon, I was in 2:50 shape. I went through the first 18 miles at 2:50 pace and was comfortable. Unfortunately, I then got tired. Having never raced that far before, I faded badly, finishing in 3:05:59. And it has been all downhill since then.
Today, I ran 2 x 1 mile at 6:47 and 6:41. It's not fast, but I wasn't going all out, so I'm satisfied with how it went. It's still a far cry from my past, but since it's February, I'm hoping that things will get better (faster) by and by.
Tuesday, February 12, 2013
Operator error
We have wonderful high-tech gadgets that improve our abilities to train smarter and more efficiently. Of course, all of that is dependent on whether we actually use them correctly. Sometimes that's the most difficult thing.
Last Thursday, I was supposed to swim a set of 5 x 200 with each 200 a bit different from the previous: #1 was IM drill; #2 was breast 100 fast, 100 easy; #3 was free DPS; #4 was back focusing on kick; and #5 was 200 IM fast. For the last one, Ashley said that she was going to time me. Since she didn't have an hour-glass, I assumed that she would be using her stopwatch. She even mentioned that she would start her watch when my feet left the wall. So, off I went, going as fast as I could. When I finally touched the wall for the final time and looked up, Ashley was talking to some of the kids. I had a sinking feeling about this. She then wandered over to me and apologized that she never started her watch. Oh well. I know slow... and my 200 IM was just that.
On Sunday, I was supposed to run 3 x 1 mile at Z4, which for me is currently 7:12. The first thing I realized when I figured out my paces was that my current threshold pace is slower than I used to do my JRA runs back when I was in college. Of course, that was many moons and miles ago. Anyway, when I got through with my warm-up, I pushed the "Start" button on my watch. Now, if you have a Garmin 310, you know that the "Start/Stop" button is different from the "Lap" button. And since I had already started my watch for my warm up, I should have pushed the "Lap" button. I had looked down at my watch just before I started the interval, and it was at 1.65 miles; after a time and distance that I thought was a lot longer than 0.35 miles (when the watch should have beeped and vibrated), I realized that I had stopped my watch rather than started the 2nd lap. The wind was out of my sails, and I slowed to a jog, knowing that I had not run a mile, but figured I should just regroup and press onward. My next two intervals were 6:58 and 6:54 if you believe Garmin Connect. If you believe WKO+/TP, they were 7:13 and 7:24. Since my RPE was closer to the 6:5x pace, I'm using those numbers.
Also on Sunday, I tried out the Saucony Kinvaras for the first time. While they didn't feel bad and were definitely light, they still don't feel as responsive as the Newtons. Try as I might to find shoes that feel as responsive as the Newtons, I have not been able to do so. It's interesting. I was ready to have a bouncy run on Sunday in new shoes, and it didn't happen. I am now convinced more than ever that Newtons just feel different from other shoes... in a good way.
Last Thursday, I was supposed to swim a set of 5 x 200 with each 200 a bit different from the previous: #1 was IM drill; #2 was breast 100 fast, 100 easy; #3 was free DPS; #4 was back focusing on kick; and #5 was 200 IM fast. For the last one, Ashley said that she was going to time me. Since she didn't have an hour-glass, I assumed that she would be using her stopwatch. She even mentioned that she would start her watch when my feet left the wall. So, off I went, going as fast as I could. When I finally touched the wall for the final time and looked up, Ashley was talking to some of the kids. I had a sinking feeling about this. She then wandered over to me and apologized that she never started her watch. Oh well. I know slow... and my 200 IM was just that.
On Sunday, I was supposed to run 3 x 1 mile at Z4, which for me is currently 7:12. The first thing I realized when I figured out my paces was that my current threshold pace is slower than I used to do my JRA runs back when I was in college. Of course, that was many moons and miles ago. Anyway, when I got through with my warm-up, I pushed the "Start" button on my watch. Now, if you have a Garmin 310, you know that the "Start/Stop" button is different from the "Lap" button. And since I had already started my watch for my warm up, I should have pushed the "Lap" button. I had looked down at my watch just before I started the interval, and it was at 1.65 miles; after a time and distance that I thought was a lot longer than 0.35 miles (when the watch should have beeped and vibrated), I realized that I had stopped my watch rather than started the 2nd lap. The wind was out of my sails, and I slowed to a jog, knowing that I had not run a mile, but figured I should just regroup and press onward. My next two intervals were 6:58 and 6:54 if you believe Garmin Connect. If you believe WKO+/TP, they were 7:13 and 7:24. Since my RPE was closer to the 6:5x pace, I'm using those numbers.
Also on Sunday, I tried out the Saucony Kinvaras for the first time. While they didn't feel bad and were definitely light, they still don't feel as responsive as the Newtons. Try as I might to find shoes that feel as responsive as the Newtons, I have not been able to do so. It's interesting. I was ready to have a bouncy run on Sunday in new shoes, and it didn't happen. I am now convinced more than ever that Newtons just feel different from other shoes... in a good way.
Tuesday, January 29, 2013
Oooph!
I went to the gym yesterday and started lifting again. And I'm sore today. It has been quite a while since I've lifted. For a number of years, I was very regular with lifting weights, typically twice/week, except after the end of the season for about a month. I figured that lifting weights would help to keep up my muscle mass, since I'm not exactly built like a power lifter, and lose muscle mass quickly. For about 8-9 years, I utilized the same lifting program, which was in Joe Friel's "Triathlete's Training Bible." I certainly got a lot stronger, and my bike strength was very high. Several years ago, I decided to change my lifting to more of a circuit, lifting either 1-2 sets but doing a lot of different exercises, following the Mark Allen plan. While it did give me a more balanced routine, it didn't work an individual group of muscles quite as hard. And then I stopped lifting completely, relying more on the swimming/biking/running to keep me strong. After I broke my clavicle, I restarted the Mark Allen program on and off (but more off than on), and periodically did a workout with pullups, pushups and crunches. To be honest, part of the reason I stopped lifting was also the convenience. When Keeler gym (across the street from the hospital) closed, I lost a very convenient, never crowded place to lift.
Having gradually gotten away from the lifting, I decided to restart. Since the TTB plan made me feel a lot stronger than I did with the MA program, I went back to it. And after much delay, yesterday was the first day. The first thing I noticed was how out of place I felt in the gym. I went to Wilson gym on North Fort, and it was busy. A lot of large individuals lifting a lot of weight. And there were women in there throwing weights around, too. I used to feel at home in the gym, but now, my weak, endurance athlete's body was conspicuous. However, I managed to find the weights I needed and do the lifting that I planned to do. 3 sets of 20 seemed a lot harder than I remembered.
This morning, I awoke to some muscle soreness that I haven't had in awhile. It's a good soreness and tightness, since it reminds me that I did some work yesterday. It will be interesting to see what happens when I try to swim today.
Having gradually gotten away from the lifting, I decided to restart. Since the TTB plan made me feel a lot stronger than I did with the MA program, I went back to it. And after much delay, yesterday was the first day. The first thing I noticed was how out of place I felt in the gym. I went to Wilson gym on North Fort, and it was busy. A lot of large individuals lifting a lot of weight. And there were women in there throwing weights around, too. I used to feel at home in the gym, but now, my weak, endurance athlete's body was conspicuous. However, I managed to find the weights I needed and do the lifting that I planned to do. 3 sets of 20 seemed a lot harder than I remembered.
This morning, I awoke to some muscle soreness that I haven't had in awhile. It's a good soreness and tightness, since it reminds me that I did some work yesterday. It will be interesting to see what happens when I try to swim today.
Friday, January 25, 2013
10,000 hours
It has been said that 10,000 hours are required to become an expert. In anything. I calculated this out: if you practice something 1 hour/day, it would take 27 years to reach 10,000 hours... assuming that's 1 hour/day every single day for 27 years. Of course, if you practice 3 hours/day, that's only 9 years. Still, that's pretty daunting considering that would be 3 hours daily for 365 days/year for 9 years.
Why do I bring this up? When I was growing up, I started playing the piano at age 6. I took lessons until I was 18. At that point, the growth in my piano skills stopped. Most people consider me pretty proficient in piano. And I can sight-read relatively well, which means I can fake my way through a lot of things. But I'm nowhere near 10,000 hours, probably closer to 60-70% of that.
I've been told that I'm a pretty good cyclist. In years past, I was better, but I no longer put the time in that I did previously. Again, nowhere near 10,000 hours. Same with running. At one point in time in my distant past, I was a decent amateur runner. Even at my peak, though, I was nowhere close to 10,000 hours. Now, I'm closer to that number than when I was decent, and I'm a whole lot slower than I was back then.
And now the reason that I mention this: swimming. 10,000 hours is a lot of time to put in to become an expert. I've been swimming relatively consistently for, say 17 years, but the amount of time is not even close to 10,000 hours. I keep reading about how you can get faster by swimming less, but of better quality, but the truth of the matter is, you need to put the time in. I watch my son's age group club swimmers and they don't worry that much about their technique; they just swim. And they all get faster. For most of them, they've got a long ways to go to get to 10,000 hours, and they can't give describe to you how to swim faster, but they just do. So, the idea that less can be more to me is, frankly, ridiculous.
There are sayings that basically describe this: time in the water, time in the saddle, time on your feet. 10,000 hours is a lot of time. But that's what it takes.
Why do I bring this up? When I was growing up, I started playing the piano at age 6. I took lessons until I was 18. At that point, the growth in my piano skills stopped. Most people consider me pretty proficient in piano. And I can sight-read relatively well, which means I can fake my way through a lot of things. But I'm nowhere near 10,000 hours, probably closer to 60-70% of that.
I've been told that I'm a pretty good cyclist. In years past, I was better, but I no longer put the time in that I did previously. Again, nowhere near 10,000 hours. Same with running. At one point in time in my distant past, I was a decent amateur runner. Even at my peak, though, I was nowhere close to 10,000 hours. Now, I'm closer to that number than when I was decent, and I'm a whole lot slower than I was back then.
And now the reason that I mention this: swimming. 10,000 hours is a lot of time to put in to become an expert. I've been swimming relatively consistently for, say 17 years, but the amount of time is not even close to 10,000 hours. I keep reading about how you can get faster by swimming less, but of better quality, but the truth of the matter is, you need to put the time in. I watch my son's age group club swimmers and they don't worry that much about their technique; they just swim. And they all get faster. For most of them, they've got a long ways to go to get to 10,000 hours, and they can't give describe to you how to swim faster, but they just do. So, the idea that less can be more to me is, frankly, ridiculous.
There are sayings that basically describe this: time in the water, time in the saddle, time on your feet. 10,000 hours is a lot of time. But that's what it takes.
Tuesday, January 8, 2013
If you could cheat... would you?
Here's the thing: there is a right way and a wrong way to do things. It's black and white, and there are no shades of gray. If you cheat and you get away with it, are you as satisfied as if you hadn't cheated? Why am I mentioning this? Well, besides the obvious discussions that have been ongoing with the amount of doping (= cheating) in sports, there was recently a local development that was of interest to me.
There was a fellow triathlete that I was casually acquainted with who is now headed to prison for defrauding one of his clients. It was an amount that was pretty substantial, and allowed this triathlete to live pretty well for a few years. But he got caught. And now there has been some speculation that, if his morals allowed him to do this, how much of a stretch would it have been to his morals to use PED's to improve his athletic performance? Certainly, he was able to afford it. Obviously, in the big picture, this is a minor issue, but it does cause me to ask the bigger question: how many people cross the line? And is it worth it?
From minor offenses such as drafting, which may be accidental, to major, blatant cheating, there is a continuum of cheating. Certainly, in a drafting call where the person in front of you slows down and you are unable to get through the box in 15 seconds, I am less judgmental. Or, if you are on an open road, and a car (or semi) blows by you, there is an unavoidable draft that you are catching (the press truck in the early Ironman Hawaii races was legendary for providing a big draft to the race leader). Those, to me, are not major issues, and are often unintentional. I guess that's the tipping point for me: intention. If the attempt is to intentionally get an edge by skirting the rules, I don't have a lot of tolerance. Does that mean that I don't try to get every edge that I can? Absolutely not. Certainly, I'll try to do what I can to get the most out of myself and my equipment. But, I tend to base my decisions on intent, rather than the "letter of the law." For instance, blood doping wasn't illegal in 1984, but does anybody really think this was okay to do for the Olympics? And I've always found it somewhat amusing that Lance Armstrong has always said that he has have never tested positive for a banned substance, rather than that he has not taken any PED's. I guess I don't subscribe to the old adage, "If you ain't cheating, you ain't trying."
The funny thing is that even though a lot of endurance athletes make fun of a sport like golf, it is actually one of the sporting (IMO) of all sports. Golfers call penalties on themselves, even if nobody else has seen the violation. What other sport does that?
There was a fellow triathlete that I was casually acquainted with who is now headed to prison for defrauding one of his clients. It was an amount that was pretty substantial, and allowed this triathlete to live pretty well for a few years. But he got caught. And now there has been some speculation that, if his morals allowed him to do this, how much of a stretch would it have been to his morals to use PED's to improve his athletic performance? Certainly, he was able to afford it. Obviously, in the big picture, this is a minor issue, but it does cause me to ask the bigger question: how many people cross the line? And is it worth it?
From minor offenses such as drafting, which may be accidental, to major, blatant cheating, there is a continuum of cheating. Certainly, in a drafting call where the person in front of you slows down and you are unable to get through the box in 15 seconds, I am less judgmental. Or, if you are on an open road, and a car (or semi) blows by you, there is an unavoidable draft that you are catching (the press truck in the early Ironman Hawaii races was legendary for providing a big draft to the race leader). Those, to me, are not major issues, and are often unintentional. I guess that's the tipping point for me: intention. If the attempt is to intentionally get an edge by skirting the rules, I don't have a lot of tolerance. Does that mean that I don't try to get every edge that I can? Absolutely not. Certainly, I'll try to do what I can to get the most out of myself and my equipment. But, I tend to base my decisions on intent, rather than the "letter of the law." For instance, blood doping wasn't illegal in 1984, but does anybody really think this was okay to do for the Olympics? And I've always found it somewhat amusing that Lance Armstrong has always said that he has have never tested positive for a banned substance, rather than that he has not taken any PED's. I guess I don't subscribe to the old adage, "If you ain't cheating, you ain't trying."
The funny thing is that even though a lot of endurance athletes make fun of a sport like golf, it is actually one of the sporting (IMO) of all sports. Golfers call penalties on themselves, even if nobody else has seen the violation. What other sport does that?
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