June Lake Triathlon Race Report

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I had no idea what to expect driving to the Sierra Nevada range for the June Lake triathlon.  Expectations got me in trouble for Ironman 70.3 Boise.  I've since learned that when coming back from an injury of any type, expectations are fairly meaningless.  Data can tell you one thing -- or maybe what you want it to tell you, but unless you're racing exactly where you train in the same weather conditions, anything is possible.  Expectations just cloud the truth, which is this: Your body and mind are either ready to race...or they're not. I made a decision after Boise to stop worrying about how I'd race and just focus on the training.  Focus on one workout at a time, that is. The upside of that is that every day brings a new chance for growth and improvement.  The downside is that you can forget to see the metaphorical forest while you're lost amidst the trees. In this case, the very large pine trees near the Nevada border up at 8,000 feet.

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Ironman Boise Recap Part II: Reality Bites

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T1: Upon exiting the water, I ran to the carpeted ramp towards the bikes to have my wetsuit stripped.  And was dragged along the carpet at least five feet by two teenagers who couldn't get the suit off my feet! I don't have particularly large feet either.  The spectators roared with laughter and I did too. Hilarity amid total intensity. Perhaps this is the final sign though that I need to trim my wetsuit at the calves to make it easier to remove.

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Ironman 70.3 Boise Race Recap: Part I

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It's one thing to write about the Ironman Blues for triathlon websites. It's another to experience them in gruesome detail. Such were the past few days following what I had perhaps erroneously concluded was a disappointing Ironman 70.3 Boise.

When I define "disappointing," I mean failing to realize either an objective, an understanding or an achievement where all signs pointed to being able to do so.  In the case of Ironman 70.3 Boise, the latter part of my definition is key, as you'll see.  As a result of grasping that distinction, I'm no longer as bummed about Boise.

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Comeback Race Perspective

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I've conveniently used my attorney as an excuse why I haven't been writing since my accident this past December.  Basically, I'm not supposed to comment on "that" until all the paperwork is complete. And there's a lot of "that" to talk about, let me assure you! Finally though, I've found something worth writing about that doesn't directly involve "that."

So instead, I'm going to write about this.

I was with my coach this morning for only my second trail run since "that" occurred.  We were talking about my comeback race, the first race of 2013 for me, Boise 70.3.  Up until our conversation, I had every intention of unleashing THIS on the race course.

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A New Kind of Countdown

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A little less than a week ago, I received the results of my MRI report.  And I began a new kind of race countdown. Previously, I was gearing up for the Lake Piru TT on January 6. Followed by the Bandit 30k trail run on February 17.  Then, in March I'd have the Cheseboro Half Marathon.  April would bring the ITU Club Championship, all building for a shot to qualify for the Ironman 70.3 World Championships at Ironman St. George 70.3 on May 4.

Those countdowns all ended with one phrase from my orthopedist: "You've got the Blake Griffin injury."

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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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