Chicago Triathlon - August 26, 2007

When I was younger all I ever wanted to be was a triathlete, now I realize I was a silly and immature little person. Triathlons are just silly. Don’t get me wrong, I enjoyed myself at Chicago, but when push comes to shove, triathlons just aren’t for me.

I enjoy swimming too much to be shoved around, grabbed, pulled under and brought to fisticuffs in the sea of humanity (no pun intended) that is the Chicago swim start. Here is a tip to all those non-swimmers – if you suck, don’t start in the front with the kids that paid attention during swim lessons. Granted I was not in the best swim shape of my life, but my especially lack luster performance was more due to being boxed in from the start than from not swimming in a year. Ok sorry that was just my turn to vent – I’m really not that much of an elitist, really I’m not.

With 8600 competitors I don’t know how people could keep from getting frustrated – except for the pros, who got their own start, own transition, and own finishers banner. They deserve everything the get though, those guys are crazy fast.

Triathlons have come along way since I was 12 years-old idolizing guys like Mark Allen, Greg Welch, Nate Llerandi, and of course my brother. Now each time I decide to do a triathlon, I experience more frustration than enjoyment. It’s probably because I don’t train for triathlons, I like each sport individually. There is such a different. I’m used to focusing on each sport and giving each event the discipline it deserves. I don’t train to mix the three. Therein lies the difference between a triatlete and a swimmer, cyclist, and runner. That’s the reason I will probably never be good at triathlon, I just love the three sports too much individually. Maybe I should start doing some brick workouts with Liza – I don’t know, we’ll see.

I really don’t want to take anything away from Triathletes, I think they are amazing! But triathlons just aren’t my bag baby. But I will probably keep doing one or two a year because I am a sucker and can’t say “no.”

So the start of Chicago was kind of well organized. There were 50+ waves, each starting four minutes apart. The transition area was open from 4:15am to 5:45am. Ok, so Nick and I had to be there by 5:15am in order to find a spot, and then wait until 9:30am, which was the anticipated start time for our wave. It actually wasn’t all that bad. Nick and I hung out and watch the swimmers. It was beautiful weather in the morning, but by the finish is was crazy hot and dry.

The water was freezing and I’m NOT a loser, so no wet suit for me. The bike was super flat and fast straight up Lake Shore Drive - unbelievably beautiful ride all along the lake. It was great! The run was right down along the running path where I do my training runs when I am in Chicago. The whole race was incredibly well organized for having so many people. The race organizers should be so proud of themselves. They really did a heck of a job. Even the transition area was extremely well organized.

After my pour start in the swim, I just decided to have fun and run my own race. I had a good bike, and a good run. I even got to run a mile or so with my friend Courtney. It was so great to see her! Also, Nick spent alot of time this summer working on his swimming and it totally showed. He did so awesome all around. What a great improvement, he should be so proud of himself. Awesome job Nick!!

I think my final time was something like 2:40 something. Not a spectacular performance for me, but it was a good recovery race after Pikes Peak. I finally feel back to normal.

Next up: Virginia Beach Half Marathon, next weekend. Yummy!

Pikes Peak Marathon... Done!

Let me preface this by saying that this was the most humbling sporting event I have experienced. From about 3 mins after the gun went off until about 20 mins after I finished, I experienced a pain and torture that was both nauseating and exhilarating.

The start took place in downtown Manitou Springs, which is a beautiful town south of Colorado Springs. There was more nervous tension and anticipation than at the start of any other race I've run. Everyone was wandering around muttering meaningless statements under their breath and giggling. It was like I checked in to an insane asylum - in a way, maybe I had.

From the start, the course proceeded about one mile on paved road, the first 200 feet of which was the last of anything resembling flat road (and it really wasn't all that flat). Once on the trail, the crowd of 800+ thinned to an orderly single file line. From this point the trail went up in a big bad way. The course description said that the average grade was 11%, with sections as steep as 24%. This is extremely misleading. The only reason the average is 11%, is because there is a short stretch of downhill somewhere around 5 miles up. Other than that it’s like running up the side of a building. It sucked… hard!

I walked the majority of the ascent. I just want to throw that out there. I ran when I could, but for the most part NO ONE was running. Its more of a fast paced march up the hill. Everyone tried to watch the heals of the person in front of them and try not to fall and lose pace. At one point my group dropped a slower bunch; I thought this was really odd considering we were essentially at a pleasant saunter. Needless to say, this was a totally different experience.

To add insult to injury, the officials warned us of high temperatures. The only thing worse than fighting a 14,000ft mountain, is fighting it with all your moisture being baked out of your body. Over all I think I drank over 200 ounces of liquid during the race and another gallon or so after.

After 10 miles of steep, wooded, relentless and humid trails I finally reached the treeline. This is where the race really starts. I had reached the treeline in 2:40; I reached the summit in 4:10. Meaning, it took me 1:30 to travel the last three miles to the top. In fact, it took me 45min to suffer up the highest mile. To be honest I did not have problems with the altitude, I had severe problems with the steepness. The last mile to the top was like ascending a 800 ft building, two stairs at a time with a tiger gnawing on your quadriceps. It's hard to describe how steep this was except to say that if I looked up with my head cocked straight up, I still could not see the summit.

The summit was chaos. Race officials immediately ripped a portion of my bib number for verification, filled up my water bottle, shoved handfuls of food in my face, and rushed me back down the trail. I would love to say that the view was breathtaking and it was so romantic to know that I had just ascended one of Colorado's fourteeners in just over four hours, but it was nothing like that. I have no idea what the view looks like, when I did manage a peak at the view it was when I stopped to let people pass or when I slowed to descend a very difficult section. As soon as I got to the top I was headed back down, in a mad hurry.

While I was ascending, I constantly thought "how are these people running down so fast? How do they have the energy or the focus?" I soon found out. Gravity has a funny way of helping you down the mountain and it takes a lot more energy to fight gravity than to go with it. So, I did my best to place my feet well and pray I did not fall of the trail (which would have been really bad).

About a mile down, I ran into Tom, who didn't really recognize me. At that point I was feeling rejuvenated. So I yelled hello and booked it down to the treeline.

As bad as the ascent was, the descent was much, much worse. After being trashed from the ascent my legs were screaming for mercy. However, the relentless grades that I experienced on the ascent were merciless coming down. The constant breaking, sliding, jumping, bounding, and full-out sprinting were torture on every muscle in my body. Something had to give. Finally, with about seven miles to go, I lost focus fell about 10 feet down a gravel section. I came to a stop with the aid of soft gravel embankment. Two miles later it took my second, nastier spill. This time my shin and knee helped me put on the breaks. At that point I had enough fun and decided to slow down, which is not easy to do.

It may sound counter-intuitive, but walking or running slowly down such a steep trail is actually harder than running full-out. Running down-hill becomes like a controlled fall requiring good foot placement and sharp attention, but far less muscle control. However, when you put on the breaks, all the momentum forcing you down the mountain is transferred and stabilized by your quadriceps. Translation: it is very difficult to walk the next day!

6 hours and 52 mins after the start, with bloodied legs and hands, beaten and humbled, I finally sprinted across the finish line. Every person was cheered on like they were about to win the whole race. It was a totally different experience than any other marathon.

Immediately upon crossing the finish line I was greeted by a volunteer who was assigned to me to make sure I got whatever I needed before I left the finish tent. At this point I could barely function so requesting a Gatorade was a major stretch. I was ushered to medical to have my leg fixed. The nurse promptly scrubbed my open cuts with some sort of bristled iodine scrubber. Ordinarily this would have been extremely painful, but I was so numb I didn't feel anything.

Finally, after ten minutes or so, I hobbled around and waited for Tom to finish. I'm happy to now know what pain feels like. And it's a good thing because I have the Chicago Triathlon this coming weekend.

Redemption...

Still miffed over yesterday’s Starbucks tomfoolery, I slept in till 5:15am. Determined not to let one poor Starbucks experience ruin what promises to be a great week. I jumped out of bed filled with the spirit of the day to come. We ran a quick 5 mile Georgetown loop and finished at the Roslyn Starbucks. I have to admit, my experience was much the same as yesterday afternoon - except on this occasion the difficultly was centered on the meaning of "tall water, less ice.”

Once at my desk I was immediately awash with a craving for that ubiquitous twin-tailed mermaid. Fortunately, and thanks to the wonders of capitalism, I did not have to return to the infamous location of yesterday. A mere 50 feet away is yet another full service location - what a difference a few store fronts can make! Immediately I was welcomed with leis and rose pedals - offered succulent samples of pastry decadence and whisk away to caffeinated nirvana. In my state of overabundant euphoria, I cheerfully ordered a Grande iced skim misto (also referred to as an iced cafe con leche). My cheerful barista happily obliged my request and I was promptly on my way.

Thanks Starbucks.

Hey #2, quit filling the tank with ill-tempered seabass and get me some gingerbread-man cookies.

P.S. The company is named in part after Starbuck, Captain Ahab's first mate in the book Moby-Dick.

Oh no you didn't...

Dear Starbucks,

Please register my complaints.

I am distraught, as a loyal customer, at the recent corporate trend to hire circus performers as cashier/order takers at your fine establishment. Apparently, gone are the days when Starbucks was populated by PhD candidates and unemployed librarians, both in-front and behind the counter. Back in those days, I could tolerate the belittling because, at least, my order was correctly filled. Today, instead of being insulted because I did not pronounce my drink order correctly now I am greeted with a “boy you best know what you want b‘for you get up in my mo’ fo’ line” etc… My how things have changed. Starbucks was once a welcome oasis for my overdeveloped sense of elitism, now I often feel more at home in a McDonald’s washroom with my trusted friend Bob, the resident hobo in stall #2.

I retain faith in all things exemplified by Starbuck’s corporate greed. Therefore I would like to offer some healthy and friendly criticism.

When I specifically ask for a Grande coffee, filled ¾ full with coffee and ¼ filled with soy milk, I AM NOT KIDDING. I can do the math. I want a lot of soy milk and not as much coffee. Maybe there is a method to my madness. Maybe I want to cut down the biting bitter goodness of the coffee with a little extra protein and Omega 3’s. In any event, it is not for you to choose how I should have my coffee OR to ignore my request all together – especially after I paid an extra 40 cents (I expect to get my money worth).

While taking my order for said coffee, please don’t wait till after you take my money to tell me it will be a five to ten minute wait because you just started brewin’. This is compounded in retrospect when I remember that while you were taking my order a coworker whispered something into your ear – and in immediate response you look back at the coffee machine. This makes me think there is a conspiracy against me and my coffee addition (which you have facilitated). Addicts do not take kindly to unwanted intrusion.

Lastly, can you bring back the iced gingerbread man cookies all year? They’re wicked sweet.

I’m out.

And I thought this would be hard...

I’m feeling a little nervous about this weekend, so I thought I would investigate the effect of rapid acclimatization on an athlete. The Pikes Peak Marathon involves a rapid ascent from 7000ft to just over 14000ft, hopefully over the course of less than five hours. Once atop, I’ll begin an immediate descent over virtually the same course.

Let’s take a merry journey down my happy road of disillusion:


… So I got that going for me.

To quote Owen Wilson in Armageddon:

“I'm great; I got that "excited/scared" feeling. Like 98% excited, 2% scared. Or maybe it's more. It could be, it could be 98% scared, 2% excited but that's what makes it so intense, it's so - confused. I can't really figure it out.”

Ode to Tom Glen...

So my training partner, Tommy G, decided to man up last weekend and ran the inaugural North Face 50k in the great VA. I shouldn't knock him, the course was brutal and it was 98 degrees out there. He even got to say hi to the man himself Dean Karnazes.

Anyway, it sounded like a bitchin' run. I'm bummed that I only ran 22 miles and drank my face off at my sister's wedding (not really).

Way to go Tom - Yah you're a stud now.



Hope you enjoy staring at my butt all the way up Pikes Peak.

Pikes Peak or Bust...

In order to use a free flight I had to choose the following itinerary. Does anyone else think this is a little ridiculous for the day before the Pikes Peak Marathon?


Travel itinerary
Depart Washington 6:55 AM
WASH/REAGAN to CHICAGO/OHARE departing Saturday, August 18
CHICAGO/OHARE to MADISON departing Saturday, August 18
MADISON to DENVER departing Saturday, August 18
Arrive:DENVER 10:36 AM

The return is not much better. The only difference is that instead of flying through Madison, I fly through Souix Falls.

United eats it...

10 Days until the Pikes Peak Marathon...

Bring it!

I never saw a wild thing sorry for itself.

A small bird will drop frozen dead from a bough

Without ever having felt sorry for itself.
-- D.H. Lawrence

Work with me people!!

I’m going to bitch and moan for a minute… is it really that difficult for people in DC to say “hello” on the paths?

I’ve been running here for more than two years and it has never ceased to amaze me how anti-social people are when crossing paths. Seldom have I received a quick response to my “hello” or “good morning”. Are people in this city really that self-centered or arrogant that they cant give a quick word to a fellow runner – who is out there just like them, kicking his butt?

I’m from Chicago, where everyone on the Lake path greets each other – total strangers – with a cheerful “good morning” or “hey how’s it going”. People may not think this is a big deal, but keeping an upbeat, cheerful attitude can be very beneficial to runners struggling through a training run – especially in the ridiculous weather we get in DC.

You can’t tell me that a friendly greeting is that detrimental to anyone’s running. Rarely do I see someone out there who looks seriously competitive, or is extremely focused on their run that they can’t spare the extra breath to say hello. Hey, maybe I just run across a lot of out of shape people who cant muster a word – in that case, do yourself a favor and slow down to conversation pace and maybe you will get in shape faster (there’s an idea).

Anyway, Emily and I are going to start saying “hi” to everyone we come across. It is our new crusade to bring a little collegiality to the DC running community. We promise to infiltrate this city with some good old fashion Midwest politeness.

Look I’m in the same amount of pain as everyone else, a quick hello never throws me off pace. Can’t we all just get along?!?!!??