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:

Gotta love hometown racing!

There was a race in Lakewood yesterday.  What's significant about that?  Lakewood is right next to Steilacoom, and the race course went nearly past our house.  The bike course was on roads that I have ridden for years, and the run course was similarly on trails that I know very well.  So, it was a no-brainer that David and I were going to do this race.  I had envisioned Tracy and Ryan standing on the corner of our subdivision and watching as we went by on our bikes.  But, unfortunately, this was the weekend that Tracy had scheduled a camping trip, so there was no family cheering section for us.

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.

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.

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. 

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...

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 P3 with Zipp 404's

David's P1

The podium shot from Moses Lake:





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.