Equipment Malfunction

What are some of the most annoying things that can happen to you in the sport of triathlon? Hmm, let's see. Here's a quick list below.

-- Flat tire (check)

-- Flat tire on downhill at 30+mph on your first group ride with a new cycling club (check)

-- Flat tire on downhill on a hot day and getting stung by a yellow-jacket while changing it (check)

-- Elbow/foot to face during swim (check)

-- Getting sick before or during training or a race (check)

-- Forgetting necessary equipment for a bike, swim or run (check)

As of this morning, I can now add one more:

-- Completing a time trial and realizing only at the end that your brake pad on the front wheel was rubbing ever-so-slightly.

Unfortunately, check.

The whole time on the bike, I couldn't quite figure out why my speed seemed less than awesome considering how hard I was working.  It was too loud to hear the telltale "thhppt...thppt...thppt" of the brake scraping the rim earlier in my TT because of the freeway traffic along the I-5 bike path.

On the upside, my heart-rate didn't cross into zone 3 until the final 10 minutes of my 45-minute sprint.  Why?  I'm having a very hard time getting my heart rate up while pedaling flat in the aero tuck.  is this normal?  What am I doing wrong?  How can I push harder?  How can I go a little faster?  Besides make sure my brakes aren't holding me back?  Maybe it was fatigue too, which is entirely possible.  I do know this, given my anticipated swim and run stats, cycling between 20-23 mph probably isn't going to get me to the national championships in Alabama.

On another note, I'm having a hard time keeping my front wheel straight when I place it in the skewers before rides.  This undoubtedly is contributing to the brake pad problems. I've tried putting the wheel on from the front of the bike so the alignment is straight.  I've tried from the top down.  I'm always pushing the wheel either to the left or right of the brake pads.  How can I be better about this?  Any tips/tricks?

I won't be getting back on the bike until Sunday.  And thankfully I only had one workout today to complete since my Fortius swim was optional.  Still, that's 8.5 hours of training since Monday.  And tomorrow, I've got a two hour trail run before volunteering at Coach Gerardo's middle school for a career fair.  I hope my legs will propel me through what has been one of the more challenging weeks of training in a long while.

And slightly annoying, too.

167 days and counting.

From the Sea to the Mountains...

The late KABC-TV anchor, Jerry Dunphy, used to open his newscasts with a greeting along the lines of "From the desert to the sea, or wherever you may be, good evening."  (I know that's not exactly it.) That's what my day of training felt like today.  It started at 6:30 a.m. in Santa Monica for my first ocean speed circuit with the LA Tri Club.  We -- and by "we" I mean about 100 other folks -- met at Tower 26 off Ocean Park and Barnard Way, where we then swam out to a buoy about 250 yards offshore and triangulated back to the lifeguard tower.  We jogged the distance from the tower to the entry point, with the goal of completing at least three loops in the typical one hour allotment.

I was still feeling pretty crispy from the Fortius swim the evening prior, but had enough in the tank to complete three loops with fairly little effort.  The water was cold but manageable and especially salty.  I don't remember the water being as salty in Marina del Rey and Malibu. I'm not sure why that is.  I didn't really know too many people at the swim, but friendly faces Byron, Bob, Mo and Liana made my first experience pleasant.  Bob reminded me that some workouts just require you to show up and log the time.  This would be one of those days.

Of course, my training didn't stop there.  To conclude the day, I rejoined the LA Tri Clubbers at Griffith Park earlier this evening for our weekly brick.  We "only" had 1.75 hours instead of the usual 2.25, but it might as well have been that long based on how my legs felt and my heart-rate performed.  My bike ride was pretty pathetic, though I stayed mostly in heart-rate zone 2 on the climb up Mount Hollywood and managed to get out to the Griffith Observatory and back in just over an hour.  That's kind of encouraging since I didn't exert much effort but still got up the big hills without much trouble.  Still, I just didn't have much power in my legs and I have a 45-minute time trial tomorrow.  I need to find the extra power for that one.  Fortunately, my run was a pleasant surprise. Though I didn't feel great, I managed two sub-eight-minute miles at the end of he run, even getting down to around 7:30 without coming close to heart-rate zone 4.  I didn't expect to see that kind of progress after beating myself up the past few days.  I hope I can build on that moving forward.  We'll find out on Friday, when I have a tempo two-hour trail run with the last 5-8 miles in zone 3.  Wheee!

Perhaps the best part of the day came in the middle, when I visited the dermatologist.  A year ago at this time, I literally was receiving some very light radiation treatments on my face for some pre-cancerous growth on my nose.  Today, I received a 100% clean bill of health from the skin doctor, noting that I was progressing "perfectly."  Considering how often I'm outside, this was a huge relief.  I've been much better about using quality sunblock whenever I can, and it clearly has made a difference.  I can only urge my friends to please do the same, and PLEASE get checked out by a dermatologist.  Or at least have someone monitor your body for unusual moles and pigmentation.

We covered the sea.  We covered the Hollywood sign.  We covered Griffith Observatory.  We ran trails.  We ran on the road.

I think we did Jerry Dunphy justice today.

168 days and counting.

1,000 Yard Stare Saturday

I've got the 1,000-yard stare down cold today.  That unmistakable look worn by those who have pushed themselves either to their physical or mental limits, or both. Four hours on the bike with a monster climb followed by an hour run can do that.  (Thank goodness I opted to bring the road bike today and not the tri bike!)  I haven't uploaded the Garmin data yet, but I think I burned north of 2,000 calories today.  The amazing thing to me is that I didn't even come all that close to completing a 70.3-mile distance and I'm pretty spent.  Granted, I dipped into heart-rate zone 5 on the bike and zone 4 on the run a little too.  But still, I didn't swim, biked two miles longer than the standard Half-Ironman 56 miles, and essentially ran half of a half-marathon.  Total time: roughly 4:50.

I know I'll be fine in less than two months when the starting gun at Vineman goes off.  But getting to that point now is harder than I realized.  I'm climbing a new fitness peak after plateau-ing the past few weeks.

Speaking of climbing, my Fortius teammates and I slogged our way up the big peak on Portrero Road.  Most people carefully steer down that road at very cautious speeds.  The climb was most certainly the steepest I've ever encountered, and it didn't help that I was accidentally in my big ring -- which I didn't realize until the peak when I started my descent and tried to switch into that gearing.  Darn it, I was already there!  That would explain the 35-45 rpms up the hill and feeling like I was going to tip over at any moment. The upside, of course, was the next big climb of the day -- "baby" Portrero hill by Sly Stallone's house -- was much, much easier.

The "toughest luck of the day" award went to none other than Fortius teammate and friend Mike.  He got a flat as we started our big Portrero climb... and then a bee flew into his helmet on the way down the hill and he got stung on the head!  As weird as that sounds, almost exactly the same thing happened to me in 2008 when I was a rookie rider with the San Fernando Valley Bike Club.  The only difference was that I got stung by a yellow jacket, and I was all alone.

For me, the best part of today's bike ride was cycling on some of the roads on tomorrow's final stage of the Amgen Tour of California.  The same streets I ride on regularly will now be considered holy as the likes of Cavendish, Shleck, Zebriskie, Leipheimer and all the other amazing pros blast through them.  I can't wait for them to show me how it's really supposed to look.

That's all I got for today.  I'm going to watch the Amgen Tour of California time trials on Versus, go to Fortius Coach Ray's house to try on our new K-Swiss sample racing team kits (woohoo!) and get ready for Stephanie to head back into town after a night out in Palm Springs with her best friend.  Go go go!

One last note.  I'm inside of six months until Ironman Arizona on November 21.  Yet my blog countdown is WAY off.  I'm nine days off.  So, I'm resetting my countdown clock to 179 days and counting with this post.

Wait for it...

179 DAYS AND COUNTING!!! Less than six months to go!

Big Brick

I embedded the details of my Sunday brick in the post above.  I can't figure out how to embed in the post properly yet.  But I think the duration of the workout (hopefully) speaks for itself. Of course, it was yesterday's workout -- not today's.  I was so busy powering through a five-hour brick and rushing to a neighborhood potluck dinner and then rushing to my buddy TJ's house to catch the finale of The Pacific (best one of the series) that by the time I got home...I had zero energy to blog last night.

I apologize to both of you who read this blog daily.

I'm back now, with a vengeance.  Actually, it's just a quiet night at home and an off-day for training.  I didn't get one last week so today's is most welcome.  Though my legs feel like lead after climbing 5,663 feet on the bike in Malibu, swimming a mile in 57-degree ocean water and lightly jogging a couple miles after the bike. I hope I don't sink to the bottom of the pool tomorrow morning with our Fortius team swim!

I learned a few things during yesterday's epic day of climbing Encinal and Piuma canyon roads.  They were probably more powerful observations as they were occurring in the heat of the moment, but at least 24 hours of rumination  can distill things down to their core.  So here goes:

-- Hill climbs are getting easier.  As you can see by the speeds involved, Mike, Karen, Frank, Richard and I weren't going too fast up any of the hill climbs. But, outside of the latter part of Piuma, my heart rate remained low and steady.  I never felt winded, except at the top of Piuma as massive blankets of fog rolled over the mountain peaks directly overhead, sending headwind blasts directly in our path.  I think the best way to build stamina on the bike is long, slow, and steady hill climbing.  Rinse, wash, repeat.

-- Cycling is a dangerous sport.  Two friends of mine, one of them being Anat, went down in accidents this weekend.  Neither accident was their fault nor could have been prevented.  Anat crashed on Pacific Coast Highway, which further gives me the jitters because of the number of people who crashed their last year.  I used to think that road was among the safest and most scenic.  Now I realize it's probably safer up steep hillsides than down by the ocean. Please, ride with caution on PCH.  Don't follow too close.  Watch the car doors.

-- Ocean swimming gets more and more enjoyable with more and more practice.  Many of my friends don't understand how I can enjoy ocean swimming.  There are the creepy crawly critters, for instance.  The polluted water.  The tides.  The seaweed.  The sand.  You know what?  Once you get past the surf, it's calm.  Once you channel out the cold, it's comfortable.  Once you accept your peaceful insignificance in the giant ocean, swimming is a total joy.  It's rhythmic.  Hypnotic.  And something I never thought I'd say a couple years ago.  Further, if you're training for an Ironman with a large open-water swim, I suggest swimming in some really cold water at some point before your race just to be mentally prepared.

-- My friend Karen is really improving on the bike!  After Frank bowed out of the climb due to mechanical problems with his shifting cables and Richard went home due to a bum knee, Karen braved riding alone behind Mike and me.  And she not only did so admirably, but Karen outright powered up Piuma -- only .25 miles behind Mike and me at the summit.  On the steep descents, something she's admittedly uncomfortable with, Karen kept up.  I was super proud of her and impressed.  It's really nice to see improvement happening right before your eyes.  Karen's one of my favorite triathletes because she embodies the spirit of the sport.  She's tenacious and flat-out battles through anything.  I can relate to that mentality and have that much more respect for it as a result.

There's much more I could write but I'm shutting it down for the night.  I've got another busy week ahead and a 6 a.m. date at the pool.  Good night everyone!

192 days and counting.

Wiped Out

Never take a workout for granted. I packed my bag last night for two workouts: The usual 6 a.m. swim coached by Megan, followed by my first track workout.

And why not?  I haven't missed a workout due to being physically unable to complete it (outside of illness) since I first started training with Fortius last year.

That streak is now over.  Either because of the swim workout's intensity or because this past weekend's training caught up with me. Maybe a little bit of both.  Either way, I struggled mightily all day to find the energy to complete the second workout.  It never showed up.  I came home from work, tried to take a nap knowing full well that Bam-Bam would do everything possible to prevent that (he did so admirably, the little shit), and have basically remained planted on the couch since 5:30 p.m.

Instead of forcing the issue, I texted Coach Gerardo to tell him I'm skipping the track session.  We're adjusting my workout schedule to squeeze it in this Friday, my usual day off.  That's now been moved to this coming Monday.

So what caused my exhaustion today?  I slept well enough (seven hours), wasn't stressed out and even got a little yoga and stretching in before bedtime last night.

Hmm...let's take a look at the swim (55 minutes):

-- 300 warmup (I think, maybe more)

-- 100 kick, 50 any stroke x 2

-- 250 x 2 fast (1:00)

-- 500 race pace

-- 100 sprint x 5 (1:00)

-- 200 any stroke cooldown

It's not a ton of yards, but the intensity definitely took its toll.  I was in a faster lane than usual with Bob and Lisa, two much faster swimmers.  I was also bothered by my goggles today, which kept leaking water into my eyes and caused me to lose focus from concentrating on my stroke.  In the end, I just never quite felt right in the water, not until the final two sprints of the morning.  By then, I was pretty gassed.  Yet it was my turn to lead one of the last sprint 100s since there were four of us in a lane.  I poured everything I had into making sure I didn't slow down the group.  The good news is that nobody passed me.  The better news is that according to Bob, each of our 100s was in the low 1:30s, meaning I can hold that threshold for 500 yards if need-be.

The bad news is that I'm exhausted on a couch instead of logging my second workout.

Tomorrow's a new day though.  And a very exciting one at that.  I'll be taking out Charlie, my TT bike, for her maiden voyage.  This will be part of a morning brick instead of the usual Griffith Park LA Tri Club afternoon workout.  Stephanie and I have plans to attend the Ben Folds concert tomorrow night.

Now it's off to take a recovery bath and get some much needed rest.

198 days and counting.

Hammerin' the Conejo

This morning, Team Fortius participated in the 26th annual Cruisin' the Conejo bike ride across the Conejo Valley.

My ride was closer to "Hammerin' the Conejo."  The whole cruising part just didn't work out so well today.  Not that you're really surprised.

The ride was a last-minute (but very welcome) addition to our training schedule.  And to get it out of the way up front, I recommend this ride for anyone looking to see the Conejo Valley at its finest.  The route is fairly easy for riders of all levels. We didn't do a ton of climbing, most of the ride was flat, the wind was moderate and the temperature never got hire than the upper 70s. The rest stops, course marking and organizers are first-rate.  And as far as organized group rides in Southern California, I'd definitely put it ahead of the Cool Breeze Century in Ventura.

David, my teammate and friend (and sports massage therapist) and I chose the 68-mile "moderate" metric century, which would take us from Newbury Park to Westlake, into Oxnard, Camarillo, through Moorpark and my hometown of Simi Valley and back to Thousand Oaks/Newbury Park.  The climbing was moderate, but the pace was not.

We started the ride at 8 knowing we needed to be back in Los Angeles by 2 p.m. since David had a massage client at 3:30.  We knew we'd make our deadline if we were efficient on the bike.  Had we not had places to be and things to do, I think today's ride would have been a lot more mellow.  That, and David had a friend, John, who joined us.  John was a big guy who, in David's words, "liked to go fast."  I didn't realize how fast until we quickly lost at least three packs of riders on the course with us.

In fact, literally not one person passed all three of us for an extended period.  And, of course, my competitive side coming out BIG-TIME, absolutely nobody passed me on the course during my ride.  Once we realized we were among the best cyclists on the course, David, John and I made a friendly gentlemen's pact that nobody would pass us.  All day.  My kind of challenge.  Our piss-and-vinegar approach manifested itself the most during a roughly 10-mile stretch on Las Posas Road coming from Camarillo into Moorpark.  We formed a pace line and seriously hammered.  Coach Gerardo will see this soon enough via my Garmin 310x data, but let me just note up front I spent way more time than I should have in zone 5 on the heart-rate monitor.  I was in a cycling trance today.  That's the only way to describe it.  When I expressed my concern to David that maybe we were pushing too hard, he calmly noted that "it's good to get in a little speed work every once in a while."

Noted.  And check.

We took the pedal off the metal in Moorpark and into Simi Valley, where I had a visitor pop by to say hello: My father. He met us on the same road I used to bike as a kid with a Haro mountain bike when I'd gather the nerve to venture from Simi into the next time.  I remember vividly those afternoons with Frank and Jeremy, when we'd think we were practically like Magellan wondering if the world was indeed flat.  What's beyond the next town? What if we don't make it back by dark?  What if we get a flat tire?  Oh, the excitement!  Oh, how it was only 13 miles yet felt like 68.

Oh, how nice it was to ride on that road again for the first time in 20 years and think about how far I've come, and how lucky I was to be able to enjoy such a moment with my dad.

After Dad left, we ambled up Olsen Road and battled a headwind before rallying for the last stretch down Thousand Oaks Boulevard and onto Hillcrest Drive.  One rider in an Amgen kit tried to stay with John and me.  I was having none of it.  Not that far into the ride without having anyone pass.  This guy tried to pass me twice and on both occasions I floored it, the second time looking directly at him, smiling and saying "nice push" before dusting him the final two miles into the parking lot.

We rode 68 miles in just about 3:46, or an 18 mph pace.  We were on our road bikes since it was a group ride, so I'm very eager to give my TT bike a go and see if I can improve upon that, minus the elevated heart-rate.

I know I need to curb this competitive fire right now.  I've got so many more months of training and it's all about pacing and patience.

But I just couldn't help myself today.  Fortunately, there were some great recovery tools available at the end of the race...err...tour.  I was stretched out by a chiropractor truck and then David, John and I were treated to electro-therapy for 15 minutes to restore blood flow to our aching leg muscles.  What a trip!  My legs looked like they had a mind of their own the way they were dancing from all the electricity pulsating through them.  But I can say it worked.  My legs feel fine, and I can also partially attribute that to the 2XU compression calf sleeves I wore on the ride.  I can definitely tell a difference now when I wear them in terms of recovery and stability in my legs.  It might be a little mental (hey, so am I!), but I swear the compression tech works.

It had better.  I've got a swim with the LA Tri Club tomorrow along with a 1.75 hour running session.  I will have to take it a little easy on the run, I'm sure.

Unless someone faster tries to pass me.

Just kidding, Gerardo.  Kind of.

201 days and counting.

Inspired Exhaustion

I'm going on 11 hours of sleep spanning two-and-a-half days. I partied with my LA Tri Club and Fortius friends until 10 tonight.

I'm done. Tired.  Spent.  A short but hard work and training week is over.  Tomorrow I have the day off work for a company outing, which I can't wait for: Ironman 2!

Yep, that's how my company rolls!

I capped the week off in style though, taking Stephanie's and my friend Erin to the LA Tri Club's First Thursday event in Sherman Oaks.  It was a record crowd, close to 85 attended.  Watching a newcomer experience the LA Tri Club was a special treat for me.  Erin was truly inspired by everyone's enthusiasm, positive outlook and high energy.  She said the club represents the kind of people she would like to surround herself with, and I couldn't agree more.

I remember a few years ago after my first 5k race seeing an LA Tri Club tent and thinking, "Those guys are crazy!  Who has the time for that kind of training?!"

Now I know I've discovered a lifestyle for a lifetime.  Something that keeps me feeling younger and stronger as when I was in high school.

I'm eager for Erin to experience that same joy.

My evening revelry served as the perfect bookend for an equally inspiring morning.  After a strong swim with the Fortius team (including a 3:11 timed 200), I went home to ride on the bike trainer for 40 minutes.  One DVD made an ordinary ride anything but: The Ford Ironman Kona 2009 World Championships recap.  If you don't own this, buy it.  If you've seen it on YouTube, buy the real thing.

Watching the pros battle in the heat and learning about some of the other truly tear-jerking stories from random competitors swelled my heart with adrenaline and optimism.  I got the DVD as a consolation prize for not being selected to the 2010 Ironman Kona lottery, but I didn't realize how valuable a prize this video would be.  It will serve as my visual Bible for the next several months -- teaching, inspiring, illuminating in deeper and deeper ways every day.  I can relate to each athlete's struggle to overcome their own personal adversity to achieve something most other people will never comprehend.

Well, almost.  One athlete featured is a double-leg amputee who is a nationally recognized triathlete.

No matter how much I hurt or think I hurt, that guy has had it worse.  I will try to complain far less and always keep him in mind when I'm sore, frustrated or just not feelin' it.

So after a long string of days, after being so tired right now my 1,000-yard-stare has a 1,000-yard stare, I wish I could bottle up all the optimism and excitement blasting through my veins.  I know I'll need it for other days down the line.

Or maybe I can just resolve to have more optimistic and exciting days?

203 days and counting.

What Fuels My Fire

I'm sensing a potential problem with my training.

It's centered on fear.  Fear of finishing last in a pelaton. Or in the pool.  Or on the track and trail.  It stems from being dropped on numerous rides with the San Fernando Valley Bicycle Club early in my cycling career, or my past inability to keep up in swim workouts.  And an athletic inferiority complex in general that is best represented by my irrational love for underdogs like Rudy Ruettiger.  Fearing that I'm the slowest or the worst fuels my competitive fire, as much as when people tell me I can't or won't be able to do something. Anything.

This fear is manifesting itself in a pretty obsessive competitive streak lately.  My training partners and friends, Ann, Richard and Mike, have encountered that side of my personality recently.  Richard and Mike were playfully teasing me about notching up the intensity a bit too high during our weekly Griffith Park brick sessions on Wednesday nights.  I can't help it though, especially when a few of us cyclists tackle Mount Hollywood en route to Griffith Park and occasionally treat it like we're racing for the polka-dot climbing "king of the hill" jersey at Le Tour de France.

OK, maybe that's just me that feels that way.  Maybe I'm the only one who hears British Tour de France TV commentator Phil Liggett in my head -- announcing my progress and stumbles to the world in real-time.  And that's part of my problem.

It happened again today, where what felt like an unusually large pelaton ratcheted up the intensity almost as soon as we turned out of the LA Zoo parking lot.  I was prepared for an easy spin and run considering our recent race weekend at Wildflower.  Nobody else in the group received that memo, apparently.  We took off fast, and hard.  I was almost dropped at first until I warmed up properly.

That got my attention.  And drew my ire.  Then, what was supposed to be a jaunt turned into a near-sprint, starting at around Forest Lawn Drive before heading right up a long hill en route to Mt. Hollywood.

Phil Liggett took over.  He called the action in my head with every pedal stroke.

"Ryan seems to be struggling today, his weary legs almost begging for mercy after a grueling Wildflower stage on Sunday.  He's towards the back of the pack at the moment, or is he calculating his big surge? It's hard to tell if our man on the Colnago is wearing the look of a confident, intense competitor or someone who's at the end of his line before the real racing begins.  What's Ryan made of today?  We will all soon know.

"Oh look at that!  Ryan is making his move now, passing to the outside left of a small group of riders who seem to be slowing down.  He's picking up steam! But can he catch the man up front, the blue-jersey, Trek wearing monster who is trying to lose the entire pack up the mountain?  Can Ryan pick it up to slay Goliath?  Or is David simply out of rocks?

"It appears we'll have our answer shortly.  Ryan is making his move!  He's separating from the pack and is solely focused on tracking down the Trek.  Now Ryan is riding Trek's wheel, forcing the leader to pick up the pace.  The man up front is becoming uncomfortable. I think Ryan's got him!  Yes, the Trek rider is now standing and pedaling up the hill.  Laboring!  Panting!  Cold and merciless, Ryan passes.  Seated.  A point has been made.  'This is MY hill.'  This will indeed be Ryan's day!  From worst to first, for one moment, Ryan is king of this hill. A huge victory for Team Colnago."

Yep, that's how my brain works. Even if it's 5:30 on a Wednesday evening on a seemingly routine ride. I know I'm a little crazy.  I know.

I hate losing. I hate being dropped.  I hate being perceived as too slow.  Not good enough.  Not fast enough.

Nothing ever comes easy for me, so I never take a workout for granted. Maybe that's a secret to success: Treat each workout like it must be your best.  Because somewhere out there, someone is training harder.  Getting better.  Becoming faster.

What are you doing?

203 days and counting.

Karmic Pizza

I have discovered the elusive missing link to achieving a great triathlon race result.

Pizza.

But not just any pizza.  This is a special kind.  And instead of eating it, you must give it away to someone in need before your race.  It doesn't really matter when in the day that happens.  In return, if you're lucky, the pizza recipient will wish you a good race and shower cosmic karma upon you.

I know this to be true, because that's exactly what happened to me the day before posting a 2:54:00 Wildflower Olympic time this past Sunday, 10 minutes faster than my predicted best-case scenario, good for a top 50 finish in my age group (top 23%) and top 26% among all men.  I even saw all my swim training pay off with a 29:36 mile swim, breaking the 30-minute mark for the first time and beating my old personal best open-water swim by four minutes.

I need to find more pizza to give away!

Here's what happened.  My buddy Dustin and I were waiting in the stands near the finish line for our friend Darrin to finish the long-course, which ran the day before the Olympic race.  Darrin had a long day but demonstrated what it meant to persevere over adversity.  He snapped his chain within the first mile of the bike portion, walked the bike a mile back to our RV camper, fixed the chain (pictured below), walked his bike back to the course and was on his way.  While we were waiting for Darrin, Dustin and I both felt mid-afternoon hunger pangs.  I went on a scouting mission for pizza and on my way back with two slices in hand, a girl who had just completed the long course walked up next to me and said, "I could attack you for a slice of that pizza right now!"

After a little banter back-and-forth, I realized she might not be joking.

I told the girl, whose name I never got, to follow me back to the stands.  Once I gave Dustin his slice, I tore half of my pizza and gave it to the girl. Even though she protested at first, she quickly relented.  After doing so, she looked up at me, smiled wide and said, "You are going to have the race of a lifetime tomorrow.  You just got a TON of race karma.  You are going to kick major ass."

Instead of making a joke back or some self-deprecating comment, I did something I normally don't do when someone says something nice to or about me...I simply said, "Thanks, I hope so."

So it was wished, so it occurred.

And I have pizza to thank.  So there you go, fellow triathletes...you can train as hard as you want, but maybe simply doing something nice for a fellow racer will put you in the best position to achieve your goals.

In the end, while the race itself was a special moment for me, it was overshadowed by the "one and only" experience that is Wildflower.  There were a reported 30,000 people on hand to witness the weekend's activities.  And many of them dotted the entire race course cheering on athletes of all abilities.  I can say that in least two spots on the bike and at least three on the run I received a much-needed adrenaline boost just from the encouragement.  (The bikini-clad college girls handing out water at the aid stations helped a little too.)  The crowd was at its finest in the stands near the finish line, where runners' gritty and sometimes-grinning facial expressions told lengthy tales of dedication, sacrifice and determination.  I welled up with tears on Saturday at least five times watching fathers pick up their children to run to the end with them, or small children high-fiving strangers as they passed by.  Or couples holding hands while running to the finish together.

The magic of the sport is not solely possessed by the elite. Far from it.  It's a form of karmic pizza all its own, where triumphant finishers give back energy to the crowd as much if not more than what they're gaining by completing a massive personal challenge.

We think we're taking, gaining, obtaining, and striving.  But really, we're giving, sharing, encouraging and caring.

If you haven't been to Wildflower, go.  Even if you don't race, go.  There's a reason it's called the "one and only."

And if you've been to Wildflower, let's sign up again for next year.

I'll even bring the pizza.

204 days and counting.

Race Ready

I'm fired up for Wildflower! Yesterday, I could barely tell I had a race this weekend.  Today, I'm jacked UP!

Dustin got my day started properly with a phone call discussing logistics for tomorrow's trip to Lake San Antonio.  Even though we were only confirming groceries, I realized we were in store for an epic weekend of triathlon awesomeness.  While the movie probably wouldn't sell well, Dustin, his buddy Darren and I are about to star in "Three Triathletes and a Winnebago." Can't wait.

My excitement built after my Fortius teammate and massage therapist, David, gave me a 1.5-hour massage tonight to restore some flexibility to my tight and tired legs.  I feel invigorated, if not slightly sore.  David is Escaping from Alcatraz this weekend, so we both discussed our various races and our preparation.  What a great way to enter that race-ready frame of mind.

The evening has concluded gracefully and in style...with a sushi dinner and the soothing sounds of classic jazz wafting through the house as Stephanie enjoys a cup of tea while I type.  Seriously, does life get any better than this?  Actually, it would if I didn't have to leave Steph behind this weekend where we can't even get cell phone access.  I know how absence makes the heart grow fonder, but it's so bittersweet to know you're going to miss your roommate and best friend even before you leave.  I've been sitting here thinking about all the melancholy entries I wrote at the beginning of this blog regarding our break-up, and I don't want to read them.  I don't have to.  I remember how it felt every day being without her and am grateful I never again have to go back to that place.  I can handle three nights away from her, but I don't have to like it!

So now, as the evening winds down, all that's left to complete is the race gear checklist:

-- Wetsuit (man, it stinks!)

-- Goggles (two pair), swim cap

-- Bike, shoes, helmet, gloves

-- Body glide, camera, Garmin

-- Clothes, blankets, towels, pillows, snacks, toiletries, books

Yep, that covers it.

This is my last entry until Monday, when I return from the race with a full report.  Predictions?  Well, no pre-race summary would be complete without one.  I think I'll hit between 30-33 minutes on the swim.  I'm going to pace myself on the bike so I'll likely be somewhere between 1:40 and 1:45.  I intend to push a bit on the run.  I'd like to hit between 50-54 minutes.  So, throw in roughly four minutes of transition times and that should add up to between 3:04-3:16 total.  I'd love to break three hours for this race but I don't know how realistic that will be if I follow my pacing recommendations from the Fortius training camp weekend earlier this month.

Let's see how close I come.

For now, this is the Ironmadman signing off until I return to internet civilization.  Good luck Ironman St. George competitors!  Good luck Escape from Alcatraz studs!  And good luck, Wildflowers. See you at the lake in about 13 hours.

209 days and counting.