Another chapter in the saga unfolded today. Earlier in the week the exterminator had been out to fog the hive that had taken up residence in our eaves with barnacle-like tenacity. The roofer had exposed enough that they could get the powdered poison into the space. [I’m really disappointed I wasn’t there to see the guy in the bee suit swarmed at the top of a 15-foot ladder; that would have been a hell of a shot!]
The exterminators were supposed to clear out the hive that was left in the eaves after all the bees were gone. Apparently, you can’t leave a dead hive in your walls / eaves / house after the hive has been killed because the honeycomb melts, the honey gets out into the walls and destroys things, not to mention the fact that it attracts other bees and wasps. Those incompetent boobs at Absolute Pest Control let us down again and didn’t get the entire hive out. Fortunately, they pumped enough powder in there to kill the entire hive dead as a doornail.
Friday, we were going to strike the death blow. Darlene took the morning off to meet with the carpenter, the exterminators, and the roofer. Of course they didn’t all show up when they were supposed to. The carpenter was, of course, the linchpin of the whole deal, because he was supposed to tear out the old pieces and rebuild after the exterminators got the entire hive out. I’m just certain they haven’t been able to kill the hive and the carpenter is going to get stung, but apparently my fear is unfounded.
The carpenter shows up and is talking to Darlene about tearing the whole front eaves off the house and rebuilding it, but she’s standing there with the exterminators asking them to describe where the bees were and where they needed to get access to. Apparently her questioning the guy as to why he needed to tear the front of the house off to get at the section under one or two sections of roof deck on a 20-foot section pissed him off enough that he said “I don’t do roofs,” stormed off and drove away without another word. THAT’S MY GIRL!!!
Of course the exterminators can’t do anything that involves a hammer, so they’re worthless at this point and leave. The roofers don’t want to finish the roof, knowing there’s some serious rot headed our way. I also suspect they’re a little afraid about being stung by an angry, undiscovered wing of the nest when they pull up another section of deck, but I certainly won’t blame them for that. So this, once again, leaves us holding the bag. Apparently, we have all become so incredibly specialized that no one fixes complex problems.
Darlene lines up some guy through the exterminator that is supposed to come Sunday to actually do carpentry work and exterminating and put this whole thing to bed. Of course, he’s a no-call, no-show this morning and we are at the end!
We drag out the 8-foot ladder and wrestle it in through the bushes to get under the eave. I climb this thing and have to stand on the very top step to get at eye-level with the lowest level of the roofline. This is the step they tell you never to stand on, that they actually PRINT on the ladder that you should never step here. I’m going to be perched on this prying open roof boards over a stretch of pointy little bushes fourteen feet below. I don’t think so.
Darlene locates an extension ladder we can borrow and calls her mom in despair. Sheila offers up her brother Ron out in Bastrop to come help us. Darlene calls Ron, and in saintly style, he says he’s loading up and on his way.
Ron shows up on his white horse [actually it was a white pickup], extends the ladder and gets up there to start prying things apart. He’s 16 feet in the air cranking boards apart while I’m standing at the bottom holding the ladder and hoping he doesn’t drop anything. He can’t quite manage to pry it open enough to get in there, but he did bring a circular saw and was able to cut out a small square so he could get in there.
He got one of those rubber dishwashing gloves and proceeded to drag out handful after handful of honeycomb, dead bees, and liquid honey to gag a healthy whale. Standing at the bottom of the ladder through all this was not the best time I’ve had, but I’m sure it was better than being elbow deep in this shit at 16 feet.
Oh, and did I mention that it’s hotter than a snakes ass outside?!?!?! We’re running about 104 and 60% humidity. It hasn’t rained since I think December.
Ron had a really good idea to use some flour to sop up the rest of the honey and it worked well. [You’ll be able to pick our house out by the smell of baking honey-cake from our eaves…] He put the whole thing back together, was able to caulk it nicely to keep them out and make things look good again. We are so lucky to have Ron to come out to help us when we were on our last leg!
You would not have believed the carnage at the bottom of the ladder I shoveled into the garbage can. Didn’t want to start a new hive in the bushes down below, although we might have a similar issue with a hive developing in our trash can…
The roofer is supposed to show up tomorrow to finish the roof, and with any luck at all, this will be behind us. Not that it hasn’t been a lot of fun…
Sunday, August 27, 2006
Sunday, August 20, 2006
Entry for August 20, 2006
Got up ugly early, loaded the bikes, and made the 45-minute drive to the Reservoir for the race. Got set up, into wetsuits and through a warm-up. I felt pretty good, despite the fact that the two of us were wearing blue swim caps that made us look like the Blue Man Group.
I went out a little hard, but still put together my best swim to date at 19:58, which leads me to believe the course might have been a little short. I didn’t get to see Tony, but apparently he was happy with his swim.
The bike was hilly, but I was able to big ring the whole thing. Averaged about 24 mph. Came screaming into transition, knowing the toe was going to force me to abandon. I scorched in with a nice barefoot dismount and started running through transition. After about the third stone bruise on my foot I asked myself, “why the hell are you running?” Not having a good answer, I strolled the rest of the way in, grabbed a quick drink from my water bottle, took off my chip belt, and wandered over to the official to report I was a DNF. Got cleaned up and waited for Tony’s arrival.
Darlene, Janelle, Tammy, Curtis, and Sierra were our cheering section and photographers while I was out on course. You can see the photos on Shutterfly at share.shutterfly.com/action/welcome?sid=9AZNWTFw3cMJ4. Tony looked to be having a good race from his bike finish and T2. He finished the run looking strong. He was hoping to have his run under an hour and it was 55 minutes. He was also hoping to be under three hours total and he came in at 2:46, which was fantastic.
Looking at the results later, we determined that I was in second place overall after the bike, so if I could have run, I would have been within striking distance.
We got back, cleaned up, and went for lunch and a few drinks to celebrate.
I went out a little hard, but still put together my best swim to date at 19:58, which leads me to believe the course might have been a little short. I didn’t get to see Tony, but apparently he was happy with his swim.
The bike was hilly, but I was able to big ring the whole thing. Averaged about 24 mph. Came screaming into transition, knowing the toe was going to force me to abandon. I scorched in with a nice barefoot dismount and started running through transition. After about the third stone bruise on my foot I asked myself, “why the hell are you running?” Not having a good answer, I strolled the rest of the way in, grabbed a quick drink from my water bottle, took off my chip belt, and wandered over to the official to report I was a DNF. Got cleaned up and waited for Tony’s arrival.
Darlene, Janelle, Tammy, Curtis, and Sierra were our cheering section and photographers while I was out on course. You can see the photos on Shutterfly at share.shutterfly.com/action/welcome?sid=9AZNWTFw3cMJ4. Tony looked to be having a good race from his bike finish and T2. He finished the run looking strong. He was hoping to have his run under an hour and it was 55 minutes. He was also hoping to be under three hours total and he came in at 2:46, which was fantastic.
Looking at the results later, we determined that I was in second place overall after the bike, so if I could have run, I would have been within striking distance.
We got back, cleaned up, and went for lunch and a few drinks to celebrate.
Monday, July 31, 2006
Entry for July 31, 2006
Did something really stupid yesterday. Needed to hang some blinds in our office yesterday, but didn't have enough room to get the ladder between the desk and the window. Since all the desks are connected, it would have required moving printers, a bolt on lamp, partially disassembling the desk, etc., I opted to save a little time and just stand on the window ledge about a foot above the floor.
Of course I fell, caught my left pinky toe on the desk on the way down. Dislocated and broken. If there is a silver lining to be found, it's that it was not a complete break, just a spiral fracture. Should heal more quickly, but seriously screws up my racing, just as the calf was coming back.
I won't be able to ride for a week, and won't be able to run for 3-4, so this really puts the race in Colorado on the 20th in jeopardy. Hopefully things come together so I can race, but I certainly won't be in good form...
Of course I fell, caught my left pinky toe on the desk on the way down. Dislocated and broken. If there is a silver lining to be found, it's that it was not a complete break, just a spiral fracture. Should heal more quickly, but seriously screws up my racing, just as the calf was coming back.
I won't be able to ride for a week, and won't be able to run for 3-4, so this really puts the race in Colorado on the 20th in jeopardy. Hopefully things come together so I can race, but I certainly won't be in good form...
Monday, July 03, 2006
What's it like to dope in sports?
This is kind of a long article, but it's amazing:
http://outside.away.com/outside/bodywork/200311/200311_drug_test_1.html
http://outside.away.com/outside/bodywork/200311/200311_drug_test_1.html
Friday, June 30, 2006
Entry for June 30, 2006
Good news from the doctor this afternoon. Results from my liver biopsy earlier in the week came back good. No scarring (cirrhosis) at all, only mild inflammation. Doc says I have a perfectly healthy liver.
This means that I don't have any viral hepatitis, autoimmune diseases, and don't need any medication. The leading theory is that I had an allergic response to a tetracycline-group antibiotic, exacerbated by a higher-than-normal dose of ibuprofen.
Over the course of the blood testing I've done, they've seen a decline in the level of liver enzymes (AST and ALT), so they suspect this will run it's course and I will be fine in four to six weeks when I go in for another blood test. Until then no beer, but regular diet and exercise. Afterward, I should be fine, and going forward just have to disclose a tetracycline allergy when filling out paperwork at the doctor…
This means that I don't have any viral hepatitis, autoimmune diseases, and don't need any medication. The leading theory is that I had an allergic response to a tetracycline-group antibiotic, exacerbated by a higher-than-normal dose of ibuprofen.
Over the course of the blood testing I've done, they've seen a decline in the level of liver enzymes (AST and ALT), so they suspect this will run it's course and I will be fine in four to six weeks when I go in for another blood test. Until then no beer, but regular diet and exercise. Afterward, I should be fine, and going forward just have to disclose a tetracycline allergy when filling out paperwork at the doctor…
Monday, June 19, 2006
Entry for June 19, 2006
Good times ahead. My latest lab results didn't show improvement in my liver enzymes, but they were able to rule out all forms of viral hepatitis, bacterial infections, etc. Unfortunately, that leaves us with his leading theory that I have an autoimmune disorder. Essentially, my immune system is attacking my liver. Don't know why.
Doctor tells me that it's something we can treat with corticosteroids for approximately six months. During that treatment I should be able to live my life normally, and after that, I should be in the clear. The bad news is that he is likely going to order a percutaneous liver biopsy to validate the diagnosis.
That would put me out of training for about a week, and I hear it's a ton of fun to have an eight-gauge needle jammed several inches into your chest cavity. I just so happen to have a two-week window in my training, thanks to a torn calf, so I'm checking with him to see if I can schedule it in the next two weeks so I won't miss training later.
It will also put an end to the speculation and we'll know for sure. Then all I have to worry about is why the hell my immune system has decided my liver is a bad thing.
Doctor tells me that it's something we can treat with corticosteroids for approximately six months. During that treatment I should be able to live my life normally, and after that, I should be in the clear. The bad news is that he is likely going to order a percutaneous liver biopsy to validate the diagnosis.
That would put me out of training for about a week, and I hear it's a ton of fun to have an eight-gauge needle jammed several inches into your chest cavity. I just so happen to have a two-week window in my training, thanks to a torn calf, so I'm checking with him to see if I can schedule it in the next two weeks so I won't miss training later.
It will also put an end to the speculation and we'll know for sure. Then all I have to worry about is why the hell my immune system has decided my liver is a bad thing.
Thursday, June 01, 2006
Entry for June 1, 2006
Got the bike all packed up in the Trico Sportcase last night, but still not feeling good about it. Really have to disassemble the thing and even though this I the best carrier on the market, I don’t like the way it bulges over the axles of the $2000 wheels when closed. I really hope it makes it through the journey without any damage. Getting the TT bike into the same small box later this summer is going to be a real hoot.
Got a disturbing call from my dermatologist’s physicians assistant this morning at the airport. Had my six month checkup Tuesday morning and they ordered the routing CBC and liver panel because I’m occasionally taking antibiotics.
Lately my skin has been awful, so I hit the antibiotics for 10 days and stopped just about three days before the appointment. I restarted Monday after the race because my skin still looks like shit, and because I just swam in filthy Town Lake Monday for the triathlon.
The PA tells me that my liver enzymes are elevated and that they are concerned. We discuss that I’m back on the antibiotics, that I had a quite a few beers after the race Monday, and that I’m taking large doses of Advil at the direction of another doctor.
I had been suffering from pain in the top of my right foot when I run, so the orthopedic surgeon’s PA had me on three Advil three times daily for about a week now. That’s a massive dose and likely not helping. She said she’d talk to the doctor and call me back.
We land in Dallas and Darlene’s phone starts ringing. It’s the doctor looking for me. I talk to him and he sounds genuinely concerned. He tells me that my liver enzymes are high and we recap what I’m on. He tells me that I’m also anemic, so he is worried that I might be bleeding in my stomach. He also lists hepatitis as a possible affliction and asks me if I feel OK; any blood in my stool, yellowing of the eyes, etc. I tell him that I feel great.
I’m pretty sure it’s a combination of too much beer Monday after the race and the massive doses of Advil. Also haven’t been abundantly kind to my liver over the last 10 years, but I think this is background.
He instructs me to get off the antibiotics and the Advil and not to drink. I’m supposed to check in with him again when I get back. Nothing to worry about until we confirm. I imagine this entails a retest when I get back and I think things should be back to normal. Anyway, I also take it as a warning to cut way back on the beer. My weakness for Chimay will have to stiffen up some. Interested to see if they say I should stop drinking altogether. I hope not, because I really love a good beer, but we’ll see. If I have to stop entirely, at the very least I’ll be swimming in cash and dinners out will be a lot cheaper…
Anyhow, we sit on the 4-HOUR flight to Oakland. Get to meet the folks there and get ready for the Escape. Should be a good time.
Got a disturbing call from my dermatologist’s physicians assistant this morning at the airport. Had my six month checkup Tuesday morning and they ordered the routing CBC and liver panel because I’m occasionally taking antibiotics.
Lately my skin has been awful, so I hit the antibiotics for 10 days and stopped just about three days before the appointment. I restarted Monday after the race because my skin still looks like shit, and because I just swam in filthy Town Lake Monday for the triathlon.
The PA tells me that my liver enzymes are elevated and that they are concerned. We discuss that I’m back on the antibiotics, that I had a quite a few beers after the race Monday, and that I’m taking large doses of Advil at the direction of another doctor.
I had been suffering from pain in the top of my right foot when I run, so the orthopedic surgeon’s PA had me on three Advil three times daily for about a week now. That’s a massive dose and likely not helping. She said she’d talk to the doctor and call me back.
We land in Dallas and Darlene’s phone starts ringing. It’s the doctor looking for me. I talk to him and he sounds genuinely concerned. He tells me that my liver enzymes are high and we recap what I’m on. He tells me that I’m also anemic, so he is worried that I might be bleeding in my stomach. He also lists hepatitis as a possible affliction and asks me if I feel OK; any blood in my stool, yellowing of the eyes, etc. I tell him that I feel great.
I’m pretty sure it’s a combination of too much beer Monday after the race and the massive doses of Advil. Also haven’t been abundantly kind to my liver over the last 10 years, but I think this is background.
He instructs me to get off the antibiotics and the Advil and not to drink. I’m supposed to check in with him again when I get back. Nothing to worry about until we confirm. I imagine this entails a retest when I get back and I think things should be back to normal. Anyway, I also take it as a warning to cut way back on the beer. My weakness for Chimay will have to stiffen up some. Interested to see if they say I should stop drinking altogether. I hope not, because I really love a good beer, but we’ll see. If I have to stop entirely, at the very least I’ll be swimming in cash and dinners out will be a lot cheaper…
Anyhow, we sit on the 4-HOUR flight to Oakland. Get to meet the folks there and get ready for the Escape. Should be a good time.
Escape from Alcatraz Race Recap
Got to SF, put the bike together, and went for a quick shakedown ride to make sure all the bolts were tight and the gearing was right for the hills. Rode over the Golden Gate Bridge to Sausalito. The weather was clear and visibility was good. Could see quite a ways and the view was beautiful. Nice and cool, about 65 with a cool breeze.
My brand new carbon fiber rear wheel with zero miles on it and a brand new tire was, disappointingly, out of true from being crunched into the bike carrier. It wasn’t bad enough that it was catching the brakes or would slow me down, but you do tend to wish for perfect when you pay $800 for a wheel… Found a local bike shop (Sports Basement) and bought a couple CO2 canisters that I couldn’t ship on the plane in case of any race-day flats.
We had a great room at the Hyatt at Fisherman’s Wharf, two blocks from the water and about two miles from transition and registration. Our hotel room was also about four doors down from Hunter Kemper, last year’s defending champion and 2006 ITU points leader. Hoped a little talent would wear off on me by being so close to someone good. It was nice to be so close to the water and I spent a lot of time down at the pier taking pictures and strolling around when not getting things ready to race.
Friday morning I got up early. I was trying to stay on Central Time in order to make the 4:00 a.m. get up race day a little more tolerable. Went for a short run along the pier that took me by the Dolphin Club, and saw a number of competitors out in the bay swimming. Ran back to the hotel, grabbed my wetsuit and goggles and headed back. Suited up and jumped in and instantly got the biggest ice cream headache I’d ever had from the cold. It felt like my head was in a vice. Got through about 75 strokes and things weren’t getting any better. I bagged it for the day and resolved to buy a squid lid to try to keep my head warm. Otherwise, the wetsuit was great. My hands and feet just went numb, but there was no pain.
Got the squid lid and found some Spenco blister pads that turned out to be my savior. I’d torn up my feet very badly at CapTex Monday as a result of running without socks. These pads got me through race day without any blood. They stuck well through all the sand and transitions, but proved to be a little too tenacious when I tried to remove them after the race, taking decent chunks of skin with them.
Mom, Dad, Darlene, and DD’s Mom were patient with me and let me do my thing to get ready for the race. They were a big help all week. We met up with Al and Sylvia, Darlene’s friends from work, for dinner Friday night. They drove up from LA for a long weekend and stuck around Sunday for most of the race, despite the seven-hour drive home. Nice to see them again.
Saturday, Darlene and her mom took off to go shopping and eat lunch at the Cheesecake Factory up on Union Square. Mom and Dad went to a museum, and I spent most of the day on my back resting. Couple quick workouts in the morning to get the body recovered from the rest day, but still not quite feeling right after the quick turnaround from Monday’s race.
Went down to transition for packet pick up and for the mandatory race briefing. It was out in the middle of a grassy area and the sun was absolutely beating down. They started the briefing with lots of words from the sponsors before the meat of the presentation, particularly on how the swim would work. They punctuated everything with a five minute interlude for some sponsor or another to talk about their stuff and how happy they were to be a sponsor. After 90 minutes, we’d only covered the swim, and I was feeling dehydrated and sunburned. Decided to bail on the bike and run portions, thinking I’ve done enough that I could figure those parts out on my own. Don’t have any idea how much longer the thing went on, but the next briefing was supposed to start three hours later. They were at least done by morning when I returned for the race…
Woke up race morning at 4:00, bolted down a bagel, some yogurt and granola with a little protein sprinkled in, tons of Gatorade and water. Dad was nice enough to haul out of bed to take me down to the transition so I wouldn’t have to ride down in the dark.
I was there when transition opened, racked my bike, spread out all my gear, and got on t he first bus to the pier where the boat was waiting. Got marked at the pier, hit the Port-O-Let for the last time, and boarded the boat. Found a spot near t he starboard of the boat so I’d be one of the first from my wave out the door. Leaned against the pole and tried to relax and stretch as the boat filled up. Pretty soon, the bottom deck of the boat was noisy and filled with people. It wasn’t so bad that it was claustrophobic, but it was definitely full and noisy. The boat finally started moving at 7:15 and I pounded a gel pack and 16 ounces of Gatorade. As we neared the island and got into position, we started crushing for the door. Really had to pee, but no time. I noticed the carpet by the door was wet and I looked around and noticed a lot of people just peeing in their wetsuits. I couldn’t quite bring myself to it.
Pros got the gun and you could feel the anxiety in the air as we queued up to jump in for the age group waves. The fog was starting to roll in over SF, and the communications tower we were told to sight from was drifting in and out. I switched to the backup, the dome of the Exploratorium.
I managed to get to the rail as one of the first age groupers and stepped over. Dropped about 10 feet to the water, felt the crushing shock of the cold water, and stroked hard to get away from the boat to avoid getting jumped on from behind. So damn cold, but the squid lid was helping quite a bit. Finally let it go and warmed up the wetsuit a little. Even though there were tons of people in the water around me, I had plenty of room and felt surprisingly alone. The waves were around ten inches and most were whitecaps. Tried to find a good stroke and rhythm, but the wave sets would swamp my breathing every six or seven strokes.
Couldn’t find anyone moving at my pace, or slightly faster, so was stroking it alone. About half way out, I stopped to cough up a little salt water I’d just swallowed, and took the opportunity to turn around and take in the scenery. There was Alcatraz and Oakland in the early morning light, and the water was silvery. Seemed like millions of swimmers behind me. Turned to look back toward the Golden Gate Bridge and SF. Starting to lose both in fog, and now the Exploratorium dome was starting to fade in and out of the fog. Really needed to just follow the swimmers in front and hope they knew where they were going.
I wasn’t having a great swim, but it didn’t bother me too much. I knew the terrain of this course didn’t really favor a heavy guy like me, so I had no ambitions of a high place. Got to within about 200 yards of the shore when some of the back eddies really started pushing me around, and it was a struggle to line up with the exit gate. Made the exit and the crowd was deafening. My family said they were right there shouting for me and from the pictures, looks like they could have reached out and touched me, but I didn’t hear or see them through the tunnel vision and the din.
Got the wetsuit off and shoes on for the half-mile run to T1. My feet were completely numb, so t he run felt weird. Got to T1 and had a decent change to the bike. Tried to get the legs moving with a high gear, but definitely wasn’t setting the place ablaze. Up the hill past the GGB, and the fog was getting really thick. The salt air was creating quite a scum on my glasses and making the roads a little slick. Some of the descents and corners were pretty technical and I was surprised not to see bodies stacked up in a couple of them. Maintained a decent tempo coming back, although I was clearly not shining on the climbs. Got onto the last flat section of about 1.5 miles leading back to transition and poured it on because I was back in my element. Felt very fast and it was nice to feel like I wasn’t completely worthless.
Bit of a slow T2, and my legs really weren’t moving well. The crowd was very thick along Marina Green, and I got lots of yells for Texas thanks to my Texas Iron jersey and UT visor. It was about two miles on the flat trail along the beach before the trail turned sickeningly skyward. The pros were just coming back on mile six and hauling ass when I made the turn up the stairs. They were composed of railroad ties, had uneven tread lengths and were fairly steep. Felt like shit after the run and because they were uneven, it made it hard to get into a rhythm. It got pretty narrow in places and then I saw the worst part: the pros were coming back down the same narrow trail. This was completely nuts!
We ran on rocky trails along the gun emplacements, up rickety stairs, over protruding tree roots, through tunnels so short you had to duck way down, and two lanes of traffic through ridiculously narrow trails. Dropped down a very sandy and loose downhill onto the beach. The sand was deep and damp, and very slow going. Everyone was trying to get to the hard-packed sand at the water’s edge and it was sometimes a game of chicken with competitors coming the other way.
We started heading back off the beach and came to the dreaded Sand Ladder. This was every bit as bad as they made it out to be. It is just three sets of long cables that stretch from the top of the hill to the bottom. Every twelve to 16 inches is a rounded 4x4 piece of wood strung along the cables to form a ladder. Each is about four feet wide with cable “hand rails” on either side. The shitty part about all this is that it is just tossed on a dune, so some of the steps are half submerged in sand. It was steep enough that most were reduced to a fast walk. Absolutely leg-busting. Got back up to the top and started struggling down the narrow trail. Had to stop to the side a couple times to let the faster people through. I wasn’t having a good day, but I wasn’t going to keep these people from having a good one.
Down the stairs and the crowd coming up was getting pretty thick. Just tried really hard not to knock knees with anyone on the way down, but the shoulder contact was inevitable. I heard Stacy yell for me as she passed going the other way, but was concentrating on the stairs and didn’t have time to see her or wish her well. Finally got off the stairs and back onto the flat section. Legs just weren’t turning over well, but it felt so good to be on something stable. I was still getting passed by seemingly every Tom, Dick, & Jane on the course, but couldn’t / wasn’t willing to push any faster. Some of the miles on the hills had been damn near 10 minutes, but now I was content just to get back to seven minute pace. Still felt impossibly slow.
Got back to the crowd and closed in on the finish; made the turn onto the grass and struggled up t he finishing stretch to the finish. Finally over! An epic day; truly everything the race was billed to be as the best in the world. Would recommend it to any masochist.
A quick look at the results afterward and I finished at 2:45. Good enough only for 128th out of 1800, and a very poor 32nd out of 220 in the age group. Didn’t stink the place up, but definitely not one of my better races. Still lots of fun. I think this goes into the category of been there, done that. Not really ambitious to do this race again, but happy I did.
Results: http://www.tricalifornia.com/alcatraz/2006/ Click on the 2006 Race Results link, then click on the link for the 1-500 list or the 30-34 link in the Amateur Division Results Male: section
Photos: In the 2006 Escape from Alcatraz folio in the photo section in the upper right and http://www.brightroom.com/view_user_event.asp?EVENTID=12529&PWD=&BIB=365
My brand new carbon fiber rear wheel with zero miles on it and a brand new tire was, disappointingly, out of true from being crunched into the bike carrier. It wasn’t bad enough that it was catching the brakes or would slow me down, but you do tend to wish for perfect when you pay $800 for a wheel… Found a local bike shop (Sports Basement) and bought a couple CO2 canisters that I couldn’t ship on the plane in case of any race-day flats.
We had a great room at the Hyatt at Fisherman’s Wharf, two blocks from the water and about two miles from transition and registration. Our hotel room was also about four doors down from Hunter Kemper, last year’s defending champion and 2006 ITU points leader. Hoped a little talent would wear off on me by being so close to someone good. It was nice to be so close to the water and I spent a lot of time down at the pier taking pictures and strolling around when not getting things ready to race.
Friday morning I got up early. I was trying to stay on Central Time in order to make the 4:00 a.m. get up race day a little more tolerable. Went for a short run along the pier that took me by the Dolphin Club, and saw a number of competitors out in the bay swimming. Ran back to the hotel, grabbed my wetsuit and goggles and headed back. Suited up and jumped in and instantly got the biggest ice cream headache I’d ever had from the cold. It felt like my head was in a vice. Got through about 75 strokes and things weren’t getting any better. I bagged it for the day and resolved to buy a squid lid to try to keep my head warm. Otherwise, the wetsuit was great. My hands and feet just went numb, but there was no pain.
Got the squid lid and found some Spenco blister pads that turned out to be my savior. I’d torn up my feet very badly at CapTex Monday as a result of running without socks. These pads got me through race day without any blood. They stuck well through all the sand and transitions, but proved to be a little too tenacious when I tried to remove them after the race, taking decent chunks of skin with them.
Mom, Dad, Darlene, and DD’s Mom were patient with me and let me do my thing to get ready for the race. They were a big help all week. We met up with Al and Sylvia, Darlene’s friends from work, for dinner Friday night. They drove up from LA for a long weekend and stuck around Sunday for most of the race, despite the seven-hour drive home. Nice to see them again.
Saturday, Darlene and her mom took off to go shopping and eat lunch at the Cheesecake Factory up on Union Square. Mom and Dad went to a museum, and I spent most of the day on my back resting. Couple quick workouts in the morning to get the body recovered from the rest day, but still not quite feeling right after the quick turnaround from Monday’s race.
Went down to transition for packet pick up and for the mandatory race briefing. It was out in the middle of a grassy area and the sun was absolutely beating down. They started the briefing with lots of words from the sponsors before the meat of the presentation, particularly on how the swim would work. They punctuated everything with a five minute interlude for some sponsor or another to talk about their stuff and how happy they were to be a sponsor. After 90 minutes, we’d only covered the swim, and I was feeling dehydrated and sunburned. Decided to bail on the bike and run portions, thinking I’ve done enough that I could figure those parts out on my own. Don’t have any idea how much longer the thing went on, but the next briefing was supposed to start three hours later. They were at least done by morning when I returned for the race…
Woke up race morning at 4:00, bolted down a bagel, some yogurt and granola with a little protein sprinkled in, tons of Gatorade and water. Dad was nice enough to haul out of bed to take me down to the transition so I wouldn’t have to ride down in the dark.
I was there when transition opened, racked my bike, spread out all my gear, and got on t he first bus to the pier where the boat was waiting. Got marked at the pier, hit the Port-O-Let for the last time, and boarded the boat. Found a spot near t he starboard of the boat so I’d be one of the first from my wave out the door. Leaned against the pole and tried to relax and stretch as the boat filled up. Pretty soon, the bottom deck of the boat was noisy and filled with people. It wasn’t so bad that it was claustrophobic, but it was definitely full and noisy. The boat finally started moving at 7:15 and I pounded a gel pack and 16 ounces of Gatorade. As we neared the island and got into position, we started crushing for the door. Really had to pee, but no time. I noticed the carpet by the door was wet and I looked around and noticed a lot of people just peeing in their wetsuits. I couldn’t quite bring myself to it.
Pros got the gun and you could feel the anxiety in the air as we queued up to jump in for the age group waves. The fog was starting to roll in over SF, and the communications tower we were told to sight from was drifting in and out. I switched to the backup, the dome of the Exploratorium.
I managed to get to the rail as one of the first age groupers and stepped over. Dropped about 10 feet to the water, felt the crushing shock of the cold water, and stroked hard to get away from the boat to avoid getting jumped on from behind. So damn cold, but the squid lid was helping quite a bit. Finally let it go and warmed up the wetsuit a little. Even though there were tons of people in the water around me, I had plenty of room and felt surprisingly alone. The waves were around ten inches and most were whitecaps. Tried to find a good stroke and rhythm, but the wave sets would swamp my breathing every six or seven strokes.
Couldn’t find anyone moving at my pace, or slightly faster, so was stroking it alone. About half way out, I stopped to cough up a little salt water I’d just swallowed, and took the opportunity to turn around and take in the scenery. There was Alcatraz and Oakland in the early morning light, and the water was silvery. Seemed like millions of swimmers behind me. Turned to look back toward the Golden Gate Bridge and SF. Starting to lose both in fog, and now the Exploratorium dome was starting to fade in and out of the fog. Really needed to just follow the swimmers in front and hope they knew where they were going.
I wasn’t having a great swim, but it didn’t bother me too much. I knew the terrain of this course didn’t really favor a heavy guy like me, so I had no ambitions of a high place. Got to within about 200 yards of the shore when some of the back eddies really started pushing me around, and it was a struggle to line up with the exit gate. Made the exit and the crowd was deafening. My family said they were right there shouting for me and from the pictures, looks like they could have reached out and touched me, but I didn’t hear or see them through the tunnel vision and the din.
Got the wetsuit off and shoes on for the half-mile run to T1. My feet were completely numb, so t he run felt weird. Got to T1 and had a decent change to the bike. Tried to get the legs moving with a high gear, but definitely wasn’t setting the place ablaze. Up the hill past the GGB, and the fog was getting really thick. The salt air was creating quite a scum on my glasses and making the roads a little slick. Some of the descents and corners were pretty technical and I was surprised not to see bodies stacked up in a couple of them. Maintained a decent tempo coming back, although I was clearly not shining on the climbs. Got onto the last flat section of about 1.5 miles leading back to transition and poured it on because I was back in my element. Felt very fast and it was nice to feel like I wasn’t completely worthless.
Bit of a slow T2, and my legs really weren’t moving well. The crowd was very thick along Marina Green, and I got lots of yells for Texas thanks to my Texas Iron jersey and UT visor. It was about two miles on the flat trail along the beach before the trail turned sickeningly skyward. The pros were just coming back on mile six and hauling ass when I made the turn up the stairs. They were composed of railroad ties, had uneven tread lengths and were fairly steep. Felt like shit after the run and because they were uneven, it made it hard to get into a rhythm. It got pretty narrow in places and then I saw the worst part: the pros were coming back down the same narrow trail. This was completely nuts!
We ran on rocky trails along the gun emplacements, up rickety stairs, over protruding tree roots, through tunnels so short you had to duck way down, and two lanes of traffic through ridiculously narrow trails. Dropped down a very sandy and loose downhill onto the beach. The sand was deep and damp, and very slow going. Everyone was trying to get to the hard-packed sand at the water’s edge and it was sometimes a game of chicken with competitors coming the other way.
We started heading back off the beach and came to the dreaded Sand Ladder. This was every bit as bad as they made it out to be. It is just three sets of long cables that stretch from the top of the hill to the bottom. Every twelve to 16 inches is a rounded 4x4 piece of wood strung along the cables to form a ladder. Each is about four feet wide with cable “hand rails” on either side. The shitty part about all this is that it is just tossed on a dune, so some of the steps are half submerged in sand. It was steep enough that most were reduced to a fast walk. Absolutely leg-busting. Got back up to the top and started struggling down the narrow trail. Had to stop to the side a couple times to let the faster people through. I wasn’t having a good day, but I wasn’t going to keep these people from having a good one.
Down the stairs and the crowd coming up was getting pretty thick. Just tried really hard not to knock knees with anyone on the way down, but the shoulder contact was inevitable. I heard Stacy yell for me as she passed going the other way, but was concentrating on the stairs and didn’t have time to see her or wish her well. Finally got off the stairs and back onto the flat section. Legs just weren’t turning over well, but it felt so good to be on something stable. I was still getting passed by seemingly every Tom, Dick, & Jane on the course, but couldn’t / wasn’t willing to push any faster. Some of the miles on the hills had been damn near 10 minutes, but now I was content just to get back to seven minute pace. Still felt impossibly slow.
Got back to the crowd and closed in on the finish; made the turn onto the grass and struggled up t he finishing stretch to the finish. Finally over! An epic day; truly everything the race was billed to be as the best in the world. Would recommend it to any masochist.
A quick look at the results afterward and I finished at 2:45. Good enough only for 128th out of 1800, and a very poor 32nd out of 220 in the age group. Didn’t stink the place up, but definitely not one of my better races. Still lots of fun. I think this goes into the category of been there, done that. Not really ambitious to do this race again, but happy I did.
Results: http://www.tricalifornia.com/alcatraz/2006/ Click on the 2006 Race Results link, then click on the link for the 1-500 list or the 30-34 link in the Amateur Division Results Male: section
Photos: In the 2006 Escape from Alcatraz folio in the photo section in the upper right and http://www.brightroom.com/view_user_event.asp?EVENTID=12529&PWD=&BIB=365
CapTex Triathlon Race Recap
Been training very hard for the CapTex triathlon on Memorial Day. It’s the biggest race in Texas, with about 2600 competitors, including the best pros and elite racers in the state. Because the competition is so fierce, it makes the race a big point-getter in the regional USAT rankings. The more elite racers in the race, and the closer you are to their time, the more points the race is worth and the more points available le to you.
Despite doing Escape from Alcatraz six days later, this was my A race for the season. Planned to leave it all out on the course and put in my best race. The competition did not disappoint. There were approximately 25 pros and elites in the invitational wave and 95 competitors in my age group. Time to get to getting.
My plan was to move quickly on the swim and the bike, but save a bit for the run, since that’s where I always struggle. I was shooting for a 20-minute swim, about 60 minutes on the bike, and 42 on the run. I was aiming a little higher than I thought I was capable of on the run, but wanted to really push to see what I was capable of. Overall, wanted to hit 2:10 for the race.
My age group was split into two waves and I was in the second. Had plenty of opportunity to talk to teammates and friends in transition and in the swim staging area. Texas Iron has really been a good thing for me, both in terms of elevating my training, but also because it forces me to be a little more social than I tend to be normally. I tend to be somewhat introverted as I get ready for the races. I still put the same amount of pressure on myself to perform, but at least I can loosen up and laugh a little before the race. Since the race is in town, there are also a lot of my coworkers or other acquaintances racing.
One of my coworkers is training for Ironman Canada and was an All-American swimmer at Auburn in college. I have been swimming pretty well, and thought I could rival him on the swim. He was in the first wave, so he’d be starting five minutes before me.
Before we got in for our start, the elite wave of swimmers was finishing up their swim. James Boney was first out of the water at a little over 17 minutes, a really fast time. My coaches, Jamie Cleveland and Andrea Fisher were out of the water together about a minute later and took up the chase. I heard right before I got in the water that Andrea’s derailleur broke out on the course, so she was done for the day. I learned from some of the other Texas Iron folks working the event that Jamie had come off the bike about 2 minutes behind Bonney. Now Bonney’s no mean runner. He won the Buffalo Springs half-Ironman two years ago, and is capable of some pretty fast times. Jamie, however, is a freakish runner. He ended up running a 34-minute 10K to catch and pass Bonney. That’s a 5:38 mile average folks!
Anyhow, I got into the water first for my wave and grabbed a spot on t he inside buoy at the front to stay out of the froth. Got a good start and settled into the lead. I saw another swimmer moving in behind me and soon felt him tap my feet to let me know he was there. At the first turn, we started to catch the stragglers from the first 30-34 wave. I settled my pace a little to see if this guy would come through and he slowed with me. No help there.
I started running him over the buoys and the other swimmers we caught to give him a little bit of a hard time for his not contributing. As we made the turn at the far end of the course, he was still with me, tapping my feet every so often. We started catching different colored caps that had started way ahead of us, so these folks were really not on a good swim.
I was feeling pretty smooth, but I was laboring a little. I started to piece together this guy’s intentions and had this nagging feeling that he was going to try to come around me to win the swim prime. I decided I didn’t really want this foot-sucker to take the spoils, so I started lifting the pace to make it uncomfortable. As we rounded the last buoy with about 75 meters to the ramp, I poured it on and sure enough, this guy started to come around. I was breathing to the left and him to the right, so we were goggle to goggle headed in. It was a real drag race. I hit the ramp first although he made it first over the timing mat up on shore. I still consider it a victory. I heard Darlene cheering for me as I went past, but I didn’t’ see her.
Fairly slow transition as I had trouble getting the wetsuit off and getting out on the bike. Bolted down a GU pack on the way out. Got off to a decent start and didn’t push too hard. Started to feel the legs and lungs were with me by the time I made the turn onto Congress headed toward the capitol. The course was already choked with slower riders, but they were behaving well and I made it easily past them. Got a little dicey at the 180 on the top of the course because a lot of these riders were moving slower, and weren’t the best at railing the corners.
Managed through them pretty well and kept a good pace to finish the first 6-mile lap at 14:40. Next lap would be faster because I wouldn’t have the transition wind-up. Kept a mildly uncomfortable pace for the second lap at about 14:20, then 14:30 for the third. I hear Darlene cheering at the turnaround on t he first lap, but not on the subsequent laps. Things were really getting crowded out on the course by now and the dipshits were really making hard to pass. I did a lot of yelling and had to cross the yellow line twice to get around slower traffic. Fortunately, no officials present at either crossing.
I averaged 24.6 mph for the bike and was really moving past the slower riders on the faster sections. Some of these folks were in for a really long day! Coming off the bike, I am barefoot, having left the cleats in the pedals. The lead in to transition is lots of stones and a pebbled sidewalk. I try to tiptoe quickly through to avoid stone bruises on the bare feet. The shoes in the pedals are dragging as I run through transition, and eventually one completely buries itself. This jerks the bike completely out of my hand and it hits the dust. I pick it back up, find my rack and put it away, not noticing that I’ve lost one of the aero bar plugs in the brand new VisionTech brake levers. That caused me much heartache after the race because I haven’t been able to find replacements.
My feet are completely muddy, so I sacrifice a few seconds to wipe them off, but still go sockless in the running shoes. I feel really slow heading out onto the run. I hit the GU again, take a hit off the asthma inhaler and get going. Trying to keep my steps small and light. The hill at the first turn hurts, but I shorten stride, swing the arms and go over. I get to the first aid station at about 6:40, but don’t see any distance markers. I assume it’s a mile, so the first split is not so bad. This is about the pace I need to be going. The uphill to the bridge on Congress really hurts. I make the turn at the top of the course and see a bunch of the non-racing Texas Iron folks cheering. They’re lead by Susan and her husband who are really giving it their all, complete with cowbell pom-poms and lots of cheers.
I finish the first 5K in about 22 minutes, a little off the pace, but I can still recover the time. I hit the last gel pack to keep t he tanks topped. It’s one of the sugary kinds that should burn quickly and give me something soon. I haven’t been able to put down much water because every time I take a drink, I feel about to cough up gel pack. I only made through half a bottle on the bike, and I’m only able to take a cup at every other aid station.
My legs are really starting to feel loaded, but I’m not completely out of wind. I’m breathing hard, but without my HR monitor, I have no clue how close to the edge I am. Still feel like there’s travel left in the throttle to pick it up. The hill leading the first turn on the second lap really hurts and the legs just aren’t responding. I’m slowing down and I can’t seem to pick it back up. Still, no sight of my teammate, Spence, who was just about 90 seconds behind me at T2. He’s a stronger runner than I, so if I can hold him off, I should put in a good run.
Really falling apart now. It really hurts and I just can’t seem to get enough oxygen to keep the legs moving quickly. My stride feels labored and I must look like a 300-pound running man. I keep telling myself to put it back together and pick the pace back up. No response from the engine room. I hit the hill on Congress again and I am almost reduced to a walk. I actually tell myself out loud to go, but just can’t seem to induce myself to make it hurt more. Shortly thereafter, Spence passes me with a word of encouragement. I tell him he’s going well, but I am unable to stay with him. I watch as he drifts away ahead.
My feet are killing me, and the decision to go sockless to save time is proving yet again to be a bad one. I can tell there are a couple spots that will be bleeding. Coming into the last quarter mile, I try to lift the pace and convince myself that if I make it look like I’m going fast, I might be able to convince my lungs and legs to join in. Finish reasonably strong, but completely spent. 47:30. Immediately peel the shoes off to reveal a number of open cuts. I have no intention of tromping around the dusty transition area with bloody feet, so I head to medical tent for some bandages.
Darlene soon joins me and we talk while one of the volunteers cleans and dresses. She was using my new camera and took quite a few good pics of me out on the course. One of the run pics confirms that I run like the Michelin Man. I’ll try to get those up in the gallery to the upper right. She takes off to get out of what has become a blazing hot day. I wander the finishing area to chat with some folks, load up on water, and recover.
Got back to transition, packed the gear, changed, and got out when they opened transition. I was absolutely dripping wet when I got to the truck, but the A/C fixed everything.
Saw the final results and I ended up fourth in my age group, 45th overall. Quite an improvement, but a bit of a disappointment after falling apart on the run. I ended up at 2:13:27 total, including a couple lackluster transitions. I was eight minutes faster than two years ago when I last did the Olympic.
One of my teammates and arch-rivals went 2:06, on a 39-minute 10K. I have room to improve, but I don’t think I can get that fast. Will keep working on the run, pushing for longer tempo runs, etc. Now on to recover for Escape from Alcatraz.
Results: http://www.doitsports.com/newresults3/client/87787_117881_2006.html
Photos: 2006 CapTex Triathlon in the photo section to the right and http://www.kreutzphotography.com/ under Cap Tex Tri (05/29/2006); search for bib 939 or name north.
Despite doing Escape from Alcatraz six days later, this was my A race for the season. Planned to leave it all out on the course and put in my best race. The competition did not disappoint. There were approximately 25 pros and elites in the invitational wave and 95 competitors in my age group. Time to get to getting.
My plan was to move quickly on the swim and the bike, but save a bit for the run, since that’s where I always struggle. I was shooting for a 20-minute swim, about 60 minutes on the bike, and 42 on the run. I was aiming a little higher than I thought I was capable of on the run, but wanted to really push to see what I was capable of. Overall, wanted to hit 2:10 for the race.
My age group was split into two waves and I was in the second. Had plenty of opportunity to talk to teammates and friends in transition and in the swim staging area. Texas Iron has really been a good thing for me, both in terms of elevating my training, but also because it forces me to be a little more social than I tend to be normally. I tend to be somewhat introverted as I get ready for the races. I still put the same amount of pressure on myself to perform, but at least I can loosen up and laugh a little before the race. Since the race is in town, there are also a lot of my coworkers or other acquaintances racing.
One of my coworkers is training for Ironman Canada and was an All-American swimmer at Auburn in college. I have been swimming pretty well, and thought I could rival him on the swim. He was in the first wave, so he’d be starting five minutes before me.
Before we got in for our start, the elite wave of swimmers was finishing up their swim. James Boney was first out of the water at a little over 17 minutes, a really fast time. My coaches, Jamie Cleveland and Andrea Fisher were out of the water together about a minute later and took up the chase. I heard right before I got in the water that Andrea’s derailleur broke out on the course, so she was done for the day. I learned from some of the other Texas Iron folks working the event that Jamie had come off the bike about 2 minutes behind Bonney. Now Bonney’s no mean runner. He won the Buffalo Springs half-Ironman two years ago, and is capable of some pretty fast times. Jamie, however, is a freakish runner. He ended up running a 34-minute 10K to catch and pass Bonney. That’s a 5:38 mile average folks!
Anyhow, I got into the water first for my wave and grabbed a spot on t he inside buoy at the front to stay out of the froth. Got a good start and settled into the lead. I saw another swimmer moving in behind me and soon felt him tap my feet to let me know he was there. At the first turn, we started to catch the stragglers from the first 30-34 wave. I settled my pace a little to see if this guy would come through and he slowed with me. No help there.
I started running him over the buoys and the other swimmers we caught to give him a little bit of a hard time for his not contributing. As we made the turn at the far end of the course, he was still with me, tapping my feet every so often. We started catching different colored caps that had started way ahead of us, so these folks were really not on a good swim.
I was feeling pretty smooth, but I was laboring a little. I started to piece together this guy’s intentions and had this nagging feeling that he was going to try to come around me to win the swim prime. I decided I didn’t really want this foot-sucker to take the spoils, so I started lifting the pace to make it uncomfortable. As we rounded the last buoy with about 75 meters to the ramp, I poured it on and sure enough, this guy started to come around. I was breathing to the left and him to the right, so we were goggle to goggle headed in. It was a real drag race. I hit the ramp first although he made it first over the timing mat up on shore. I still consider it a victory. I heard Darlene cheering for me as I went past, but I didn’t’ see her.
Fairly slow transition as I had trouble getting the wetsuit off and getting out on the bike. Bolted down a GU pack on the way out. Got off to a decent start and didn’t push too hard. Started to feel the legs and lungs were with me by the time I made the turn onto Congress headed toward the capitol. The course was already choked with slower riders, but they were behaving well and I made it easily past them. Got a little dicey at the 180 on the top of the course because a lot of these riders were moving slower, and weren’t the best at railing the corners.
Managed through them pretty well and kept a good pace to finish the first 6-mile lap at 14:40. Next lap would be faster because I wouldn’t have the transition wind-up. Kept a mildly uncomfortable pace for the second lap at about 14:20, then 14:30 for the third. I hear Darlene cheering at the turnaround on t he first lap, but not on the subsequent laps. Things were really getting crowded out on the course by now and the dipshits were really making hard to pass. I did a lot of yelling and had to cross the yellow line twice to get around slower traffic. Fortunately, no officials present at either crossing.
I averaged 24.6 mph for the bike and was really moving past the slower riders on the faster sections. Some of these folks were in for a really long day! Coming off the bike, I am barefoot, having left the cleats in the pedals. The lead in to transition is lots of stones and a pebbled sidewalk. I try to tiptoe quickly through to avoid stone bruises on the bare feet. The shoes in the pedals are dragging as I run through transition, and eventually one completely buries itself. This jerks the bike completely out of my hand and it hits the dust. I pick it back up, find my rack and put it away, not noticing that I’ve lost one of the aero bar plugs in the brand new VisionTech brake levers. That caused me much heartache after the race because I haven’t been able to find replacements.
My feet are completely muddy, so I sacrifice a few seconds to wipe them off, but still go sockless in the running shoes. I feel really slow heading out onto the run. I hit the GU again, take a hit off the asthma inhaler and get going. Trying to keep my steps small and light. The hill at the first turn hurts, but I shorten stride, swing the arms and go over. I get to the first aid station at about 6:40, but don’t see any distance markers. I assume it’s a mile, so the first split is not so bad. This is about the pace I need to be going. The uphill to the bridge on Congress really hurts. I make the turn at the top of the course and see a bunch of the non-racing Texas Iron folks cheering. They’re lead by Susan and her husband who are really giving it their all, complete with cowbell pom-poms and lots of cheers.
I finish the first 5K in about 22 minutes, a little off the pace, but I can still recover the time. I hit the last gel pack to keep t he tanks topped. It’s one of the sugary kinds that should burn quickly and give me something soon. I haven’t been able to put down much water because every time I take a drink, I feel about to cough up gel pack. I only made through half a bottle on the bike, and I’m only able to take a cup at every other aid station.
My legs are really starting to feel loaded, but I’m not completely out of wind. I’m breathing hard, but without my HR monitor, I have no clue how close to the edge I am. Still feel like there’s travel left in the throttle to pick it up. The hill leading the first turn on the second lap really hurts and the legs just aren’t responding. I’m slowing down and I can’t seem to pick it back up. Still, no sight of my teammate, Spence, who was just about 90 seconds behind me at T2. He’s a stronger runner than I, so if I can hold him off, I should put in a good run.
Really falling apart now. It really hurts and I just can’t seem to get enough oxygen to keep the legs moving quickly. My stride feels labored and I must look like a 300-pound running man. I keep telling myself to put it back together and pick the pace back up. No response from the engine room. I hit the hill on Congress again and I am almost reduced to a walk. I actually tell myself out loud to go, but just can’t seem to induce myself to make it hurt more. Shortly thereafter, Spence passes me with a word of encouragement. I tell him he’s going well, but I am unable to stay with him. I watch as he drifts away ahead.
My feet are killing me, and the decision to go sockless to save time is proving yet again to be a bad one. I can tell there are a couple spots that will be bleeding. Coming into the last quarter mile, I try to lift the pace and convince myself that if I make it look like I’m going fast, I might be able to convince my lungs and legs to join in. Finish reasonably strong, but completely spent. 47:30. Immediately peel the shoes off to reveal a number of open cuts. I have no intention of tromping around the dusty transition area with bloody feet, so I head to medical tent for some bandages.
Darlene soon joins me and we talk while one of the volunteers cleans and dresses. She was using my new camera and took quite a few good pics of me out on the course. One of the run pics confirms that I run like the Michelin Man. I’ll try to get those up in the gallery to the upper right. She takes off to get out of what has become a blazing hot day. I wander the finishing area to chat with some folks, load up on water, and recover.
Got back to transition, packed the gear, changed, and got out when they opened transition. I was absolutely dripping wet when I got to the truck, but the A/C fixed everything.
Saw the final results and I ended up fourth in my age group, 45th overall. Quite an improvement, but a bit of a disappointment after falling apart on the run. I ended up at 2:13:27 total, including a couple lackluster transitions. I was eight minutes faster than two years ago when I last did the Olympic.
One of my teammates and arch-rivals went 2:06, on a 39-minute 10K. I have room to improve, but I don’t think I can get that fast. Will keep working on the run, pushing for longer tempo runs, etc. Now on to recover for Escape from Alcatraz.
Results: http://www.doitsports.com/newresults3/client/87787_117881_2006.html
Photos: 2006 CapTex Triathlon in the photo section to the right and http://www.kreutzphotography.com/ under Cap Tex Tri (05/29/2006); search for bib 939 or name north.
Wednesday, May 17, 2006
Bike Time Trial Results
http://www.doitsports.com/newresults3/client/56461_157777_2006.html
A high quality field in the top 10 with three pro triathletes coming in ahead of me. I thought I had gone a little faster, but only good enough for eighth place. Funny thing is that my time was the same, to the second, as it was 10 days ago when we did the Texas Iron ITT.
My 27.6 mph average is respectable, but just to keep my head from getting too big: Dave Zabriskie won the opening TT of the Tour de France (roughly the same distance) at an average speed of 33.8 mph!
A high quality field in the top 10 with three pro triathletes coming in ahead of me. I thought I had gone a little faster, but only good enough for eighth place. Funny thing is that my time was the same, to the second, as it was 10 days ago when we did the Texas Iron ITT.
My 27.6 mph average is respectable, but just to keep my head from getting too big: Dave Zabriskie won the opening TT of the Tour de France (roughly the same distance) at an average speed of 33.8 mph!
Friday, April 28, 2006
Photos from Cactus Challenge
http://www.kreutzphotography.com/default.asp?LOC=%2FKPhoto%2FPhoto%5FViewPic%...
The pictures almost capture the pain.
I am not a good looking man. Last time I saw a mouth like that, it had a hook in it.
The pictures almost capture the pain.
I am not a good looking man. Last time I saw a mouth like that, it had a hook in it.
Thursday, April 13, 2006
Entry for April 13, 2006
Sorry it's been so long since I updated. Lots going on recently. Race turned out reasonably well Sunday, although I was extremely disappointed with my run split. Swam a personal record and did a good bike. Transitions were fast, despite having to baby the tape on my feet and put on socks.
Nevertheless, it was good enough to take out the win in the age group. http://www.doitsports.com/newresults3/client/86024_150959_2006.txt. Now just training for the next big one Memorial Day and a sprint in between. Hoping to carry good form from the MD race to San Francisco for Alcatraz.
Also starting to get the Ironman Itch again. Registration for Ironman AZ opens Monday and I'm doing some serious soul-searching. I think I know how much running I can do to avoid injury this time, but it is, as always, a really big commitment...
Nevertheless, it was good enough to take out the win in the age group. http://www.doitsports.com/newresults3/client/86024_150959_2006.txt. Now just training for the next big one Memorial Day and a sprint in between. Hoping to carry good form from the MD race to San Francisco for Alcatraz.
Also starting to get the Ironman Itch again. Registration for Ironman AZ opens Monday and I'm doing some serious soul-searching. I think I know how much running I can do to avoid injury this time, but it is, as always, a really big commitment...
Thursday, March 30, 2006
Entry for March 30, 2006
Today seems like a pretty good day so far. I feel engaged, and feel like what I'm doing is somewhat important here at work. Could be due to the fact that I just got a raise and a promotion, but I'll take whatever motivation I can get.
Looks like all the rain is past us, although we needed it. I also get to leave work a little early this afternoon to go to the Texas Iron group training. We're working on bike and bike transitions tonight, so I'm excited to be working in my favorite discipline.
I have also developed a major obsession with upgrading the handlebars, aero bars, and brake levers on the race machine. I recently got the latest Excel Sports catalog and they are all cheaper than I expected. Still more than I have but hey...
Hoping to have a good weekend. Have some serious training to do on the bike and on the run, but I hope to be able to get in an easy swim and some sun at Barton Springs. I'm registered for my first Olympic distance triathlon of the season next weekend, so need to hit the training just right. It's one of those damn events where they make you leave your pricey bike outside in transition with them overnight. Don't like the elements and leering eyes on my machine.
I'm going to watch Darlene run the Capitol 10K Sunday morning, so that should be fun. Then it's out on the bike to pound away.
Looks like all the rain is past us, although we needed it. I also get to leave work a little early this afternoon to go to the Texas Iron group training. We're working on bike and bike transitions tonight, so I'm excited to be working in my favorite discipline.
I have also developed a major obsession with upgrading the handlebars, aero bars, and brake levers on the race machine. I recently got the latest Excel Sports catalog and they are all cheaper than I expected. Still more than I have but hey...
Hoping to have a good weekend. Have some serious training to do on the bike and on the run, but I hope to be able to get in an easy swim and some sun at Barton Springs. I'm registered for my first Olympic distance triathlon of the season next weekend, so need to hit the training just right. It's one of those damn events where they make you leave your pricey bike outside in transition with them overnight. Don't like the elements and leering eyes on my machine.
I'm going to watch Darlene run the Capitol 10K Sunday morning, so that should be fun. Then it's out on the bike to pound away.
Sunday, March 19, 2006
Race Results and Pics
Overall: http://www.brittonbikes.com/timing/results/wet-n-wild/wet-overall.htm
Age group: http://www.brittonbikes.com/timing/results/wet-n-wild/wet-age-group.htm
Not a great race, but very informative as to where I need to focus my training going forward. Didn't have that zip on the bike and definitely was flat on the run. Looks like lots more long intervals and tempo sessions are in my future.
Three photos in the album to the right.
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