Now That I Have Some Time...

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Perhaps I'll be writing a bit more. Besides, you know the old saying, "Those who can't do, blog."

It's Saturday night. Steph and I are home, blissfully crossing off longstanding to-do list items. Primarily the fun kind. Well, at least mine are.  Write more.  Read more -- just finished Tyler Hamilton's Secret War about the rampant corruption in cycling during the height of the Lance Armstrong Years.  Visit more -- hung out with my buddy TJ and new neighbor Ruben at my favorite local bar.

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There Are Two Kinds of Cyclists...

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If you're an avid triathlete or cyclist, I'm sure you've heard this phrase at least once on a group ride: "There are two kinds of cyclists; those who have crashed...and those who haven't crashed yet."

I remember the first time I heard that phrase. It was a group ride with the San Fernando Valley Bike Club, a crusty group of veteran cyclists who didn't have much interest in teaching a new kid like myself how to ride properly. I was mostly ignored...and dropped.

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The Second Finish Line

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Last week, more than six months after I completed Ironman St. George, I crossed the finish line a second time.

My family and I visited Los Robles Hospital in Thousand Oaks to dedicate one of the two Nintendo Fun Centers we fundraised leading up to my third Ironman.  We chose Los Robles (along with Simi Valley Adventist Hospital) because my grandfather, grandmother and mom have all stayed there over the years. Unfortunately, my grandfather contracted the deadly MRSA virus following his heart surgery and was never able to shake it.  We spent many days and nights at Los Robles and became friendly with several nurses and doctors in various parts of the hospital.  Dedicating the Fun Center at Los Robles marked some closure for my parents, sister and I from grieving for my grandpa and some resentment we -- OK, I -- may have felt for having him taken from us unnecessarily.

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By the Time I Get to Arizona...Again

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This past weekend, I volunteered at Ironman Arizona again.  And somehow I signed up to try my luck there again. Two months after competing at Ironman Lake Tahoe in all its 6,200-foot glory, I'll be toeing the line in Tempe as my friends Kevin and Melissa experience the joy of their own first-time Ironman journey.  I couldn't let them do it without me.

My favorite part of the weekend was watching them take in the swim start, atop the 12th floor of the Microsoft building overlooking Tempe Town Lake. You can get a glimpse of it here, though warnings that some of the language is NFSW :)

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The First Workout is the Hardest...

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A writer who's afraid to write ain't worth much. I've written blog posts for three months, except the only problem was that I my brain doesn't have a "tele-publish" button that sends my thoughts straight to this site.

In some ways, it's like training.  You stop working out for a couple days, and next thing you know it's been a weekend.  Then, it's a week without packing a swim bag, and from there...who knows.  The hardest workout is the first one.

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Feelin' You?

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In LA sports broadcasting, there's a laughable legend named Vic "The Brick" Jacobs.  Thick Noo Yawk accent.  Dresses in bizarre fashion.  Jewish Buddhist.  Laker fan for Life.

I love the guy.  I'll admit it.

His catch phrase is "Feelin' You!"  It's what he practically yells into the radio mic when fans call in to his shows.  It's his way of acknowledging his fans' presence, energy, and support.

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Ironman Games: St. George Recap Part 3

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The good news with an Ironman marathon, when the race is going well, is knowing you can walk the damn thing and still finish before midnight.

That's what I thought as I walked toward the T2 changing tent from the bike dismount after my 112-mile ride.  I couldn't pick my legs up enough to run, still trying to process the day's events to that point.  The idea of running 26.2 miles in that moment seemed not just ridiculous, but cruel. It was 82 degrees with no cloud cover, which meant with the asphalt heat rising it would feel closer to 87.

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The Ironman Games: IM St. George Recap Part 2

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Wind is nature's snake.  It's unpredictable, can lash out and strike at any moment, wreak incredible damage, poison body and mind, then meekly slither away like a faint breeze.

If that's the case, the wind on the first loop of the Ironman St. George bike course from Sandy Hollow Reservoir to and through Gunlock was a black mamba.  Merciless.  Sinister. 

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The Ironman Games: Part I from IM St. George

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Be careful what you wish for.

That thought first crossed my mind midway through the first loop on the Ironman St. George bike course, right after sand blasts smacked my face from 30-40 mph wind gusts.  After the wind blew me literally from one side of the road to the other.  After the myriad leg-biting rolling hills yet before any of the three "big" climbs near the tiny towns of Gunlock and Veyo.

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Just Another Adrenaline Junky

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The bike is dropped at the reservoir.  The run bag is at T2.  The items on my three-day pre-race checklist have been checked.

Now, I wait.

I wait knowing that in 24 hours, I'll still be on the bike for up to another 30 minutes or so.  I wait knowing that in several hours after that, this whole thing will be over for several months.  No more races on my calendar until September.  Possibly no more Ironmans (unless WTC comes through with an inaugural event in Tahoe or San Luis Obispo) until I qualify by lottery for Kona one day.  70.3 events?  Sure!  I'm down with that.  Full Ironmans...we'll see.

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