Ground Control To Major Tom: Countdown to Rev 3 Cedar Point

T-Minus 10 9 days and COUNTING.

I've realized a some things:

1) With ten days left to go, I should probably book my hotel for Rev3Full Cedar Point. I am NOT kidding. This is just how I have to roll. I know... I know... how long does it take to book a hotel room? Look guys, I have FIVE kids. I might be sleeping in a tent outside on the beach before the race. The good news? The walk to the swim start will not be far.

2) I am nervous— way more nervous than I was before my first attempt at this distance. Why is that? I think it is a combination of having some sort of expectation of how I should do now after having one iron distance race under my belt, and being scared to death of how much pain I will be in at mile 15 of the run.

3) There is no substitute for sleep.

4) I have little time for sleep between now and Rev3

5) I will sleep when I'm dead. It's overrated anyway.

6) I have got the best job on the planet. Really. I came in to work the other day with this name plate on my door.

7) Blog posts tend to get less long and less funny the closer it gets to Rev3 Full Cedar Point. Some inverse relationship thing. I am not a mathematician. I don't know.

8) There are only 10 kinds of people in the world. Those that understand binary, and those who do not.

9) I received a new t-shirt in the mail the other day. None of my friends really understood it. Even those who have raced the distance. Do they teach periodic tables in school anymore? Is it just me or is my head a little fuzzy? Must be taper week.

10) David Bowie, although very cool, androdgynous, and quite svelte in leather, has absolutely nothing to do with this blog post.

Oh, one last thing.... my CRAZY friend Alexa just wrote  a HYSTERICAL post about our Iron distance  showdown here. I have some serious reservations concerning some of the rhetoric in her post though. Allow me to unpack a little:

#1) Alexa claims that as a full-time professor I have my summers off. That could not be further from the truth. First of all, five kids does not allow you to ever have your summers off. In fact, going to work at the end of the summer is like going on vacation. Don't judge me, those of you with children know what I'm talking about.

#2) Alexa wrote a list of advantage/disadvantages to handicap our showdown. What was interesting is that she said because I am a man, I have an advantage. Her argument for this was that no matter how fast Chrissie Wellington is, she will never beat a male pro. I am not sure I buy this argument. No... no, in fact I know I do not buy this argument. First off, you can not compare elite, pro triathletes to a couple of age-groupers with real jobs and responsibilities outside the world of triathlon. Secondly, I think the REAL comparison should be AGE, which is completely ignored in Ms. Harding's post. Alexa is a at least a decade younger. Sure, you could point at kick-ass age-groupers in their 50's and 60's and say age does not matter, but it does. Not to mention, that most of them (old fast men and women) have been going faster for longer than either one of us.

#3) Alexa has got one thing right. We both can be loud, but if it were a competition, she has me beat by a long shot. We both have decent abs and we are not embarrassed to wear as little clothing as possible to let people know that we've suffered long, hard hours for our statuesque ancient Greek-like physiques.

#4) If I win, it will be the upset of the millennium. It would be like Frazier beating Ali, the Buffalo Bills winning at least one Superbowl against a superior opponent, or the coyote finally catching that ever-elusive Roadrunner. Whatever the case, I am going out there to kick-ass and have the time of my life, again!

Today is my anniversary, I am going to celebrate with wifey tonight. I've been together eleven years with my best friend. You are awesome wifey. Thanks for all of your support this year!

More from Rev3 soon!

Train Smart!

The Friday Top Five: Top Five Things I Love About Training For Rev3 Cedar Point Full

Do you know why it's Sunday and I am posting the Friday Top Five today?!  Because I am convinced my coach is trying to kill me. Honestly, I am not sure what I did to piss her off....

I think that working with a coach has has made one thing glaringly obvious this year: I had NO idea what the heck I was doing last year when I trained on my own. NOW, that is NOT to say that you can not train your proverbial ass off and race well. I really believe that for people with no time to set up workouts or, more importantly, asses the data from your workouts in any meaningful way, I would highly recommend going this route. The other problem with assessing your own data is that it is much too easy to lie to yourself about why you are not performing at a high level.

Without further adieu....

Top Five Things I Love About Training For Rev3 Cedar Point Full

5) PERSPECTIVE: Training for the Rev3 full provides perspective on what is really important. Training for the full distance is time-consuming. If I do not get my ass out of bed and up at five in the morning for a 6 hour ride, it CAN NOT happen. Why?  Playing catch with my boys, building legos with the bambini, or coloring pictures with my girls pays more dividends down the road than beating my last Iron distance time by an hour. Not to mention that staying gainfully employed means making sure I don't substitute training for say, syllabus design.

4) COACH MARY: Seeing steady progress in my swim and run are exciting. Coach Mary is the ultimate jedi-f-ing-Master. I am not sure how I arrived at this level of fitness after not running for 8 WEEKS, but I am excited that I am not hurting anymore and running fairly solid. I learned a lot this season about training, pacing, nutrition (and Coach Mary learned something about my nutrition plan.... I call it the "Olivieri Small Panini Plan, or just O.S.P.P. for short). Don't worry, I'll explain my "untraditional" nutrition plan in a future post. 

The progress has not been limited to the bike. I have done several hour swims in open water the last few weeks. I am swimming as fast this season sans wetsuit as I was swimming last year WITH my wetsuit. If that is not improvement....

After a few long rides in some rolling hills, I also appreciate how quickly my bike fitness improves. I went out for a ride on a course I have ridden a bunch of times. I was scheduled for an easy hour zone two ride the other day. Something about hitting hills makes going into that westerly New York wind a heck of a lot easier.

3) ELITISM: There is no substitute for that totally elitist, self-rightous feeling that comes after finishing an long run before seven or eight in the morning. I also enjoy casually mentioning the fact that I "just rode six hours today, now I am going to the pool with my family for the rest of the afternoon." Sure, snobbery is not attractive. If you want to truly come off as being an elitist, you have to be (or at least pretend) that you are totally aloof to the fact that you are acting like Thurston Howell. 

No one looks better in spandex than a disproportionate
Barbie. 

2) SPANDEX: Look, if I have to wear it to race, I better have the svelte, rippled physique of a seventeen year old Swedish downhill skier (even I am not sure how I arrived there with that one, but go with it). Sure, my wife makes fun of me because of my 80's aerobic attire, but if I need to wear spandex—and, boy do I ever—I might as well be in my best physical shape of the year. 

1) FOOD: Consuming over 10,000 calories on any given day is both fun and annoys the heck out of many of my friends. It is only during Iron distance training that I can somehow justify eating half of a sheet pizza, drinking a gigantic chocolate milkshake, and having a bowl of ice cream for an evening snack.





RANDOM CRAZINESS:

Building over the past couple of weeks has been both EXciting and EXhausting. I can barely log my workouts for Coach Mary because as soon as I get home from a six hour ride, my kids ask me to go on a bike ride with them. I look at them suspiciously, but then I remember that they are way too young to lay on the sarcasm that thickly.

• Yesterday after my ride, Julian asks me "...when I get older, can I have your  Kestrel so I can beat me you at Ironman.

I said, "Julian, what makes you think you are going to beat me at Ironman?" He replied, "Dad, I am really fast, and you will be older."

• I remember when going out for a 10k, an hour bike, and a 1000 yard swim seemed like crazy long distances to have to traverse. I have an hour bike tomorrow and I am like "thank goodness!"

Okay, that's all for now. Looking forward to seeing all my Trakkers teammates and blogger buddies at REV3 Cedar Point in 20 DAYS!

Train Smart!

Aqua Mussel Race Report

HAPPY ANNIVERSARY. TO ME! Yes, tomorrow shall mark the anniversary of my very first blog post. Two years ago I did my first HIM at the Musselman Triathlon in beautiful Geneva, NY. Musselman will always be near and dear to me since it was my first HIM. The good news is I have definitely gotten faster since that first HIM just two short years ago. Musselman is a really unique race. The race director, Jeff Henderson puts together a fabulous eco and family-friendly race that was voted one of the top five family races in the country for four consecutive years by Triathlete Magazine. Jeff has a great sense of humor too. Last year, Jeff established the micromussel, a race consisting of a 100 yard (or so) swim, .6 mile (roughly) bike, and  a .02 mile (give or take) run. The athletes must either ride a tricycle or bigwheel for the ride portion of the microMussel.

My weekend was pretty crazy. You know, par for the course. I arrived in Geneva Friday afternoon. Kelly and I stayed at an apartment of a colleague of mine—thanks Izzster! Kelly and I were scheduled to work the Tri Slide Pit at the MiniMussel Saturday morning—which we totally rocked. I can not even begin to tell you how many athletes approached us to ask us where we could pick up TriSlide the morning of the race. Later that afternoon, Kelly and I had to be at the Smith Opera House for a rehearsal. We both were involved in the third ArtsTriathlon following the athletes meeting. This year was especially awesome since Kelly and I had an opportunity to play a piece together. We had not performed together since we were both students at the Ithaca Conservatory more than twelve years ago. How is this even possible?!

Following the Tri-Slide pit on Saturday, Kelly and I made our way to breakfast at a local restaurant where we ate our weight in pancakes. I ran out of the restaurant (literally) where I just got to my rehearsal time with moments to spare. Following the concert, I picked up my packet at the pickup, and Kelly and I returned to the apartment for some much needed Recovery Pump therapy. As you will soon find out, my legs certainly needed it last Sunday.



The Race: My knee started feeling better a couple of weeks ago, and I told Coach Mary that my run endurance was pretty good, and that I might be able to try giving the HIM a shot. I promised her that I would alternate running and walking, and that my ego would certainly not get in the way. Coach Mary's response was "... uh-huh. Let's talk on Thursday."

I then spoke to a couple of my friends—Kelly and Alexa—who also convinced me that my ego would get the better of me, and that I should not try to run. It came down to Coach Mary, who said "...you have two choices. Do you want to run this HIM, or run at Rev3 Cedar Point?" I chose the latter.

My swim was about 37-ish minutes. I never really felt great, but I did not feel bad in the water either. I think that I did not have enough to eat race morning. I drank a lot of my  First Endurance Grape, but I could only manage to throw down a bagel. I just could not stomach anything else. I wasn't nervous, just not hungry! The lack of nutrition in the morning turned out to be a critical mistake when I got to my bike. Gheez, you would think I would have this figured out by now!  I was hoping to ride in the high 20's, maybe even average 21 m.p.h. for the course. I had done the course a few times averaging around that, and thought that since I did not have to run, I could just leave everything out on the bike.

When I got to my bike, I had a little extra motivation waiting for me as I pulled my bike off the rack:

Despite my motivational mantra, the first ten miles on the bike were not fun. My legs were just never with me. Last season, I was able to do a lot more rides where the hills are. Unfortunately, this season, I have not been able to get out and do those rolling hills. I think I felt it on Sunday. There is no substitute for putting in the miles and finding some hills to climb. I averaged just over 19 m.p.h. for the course. I am pretty disappointed with my bike, but I learned something from the experience though, and that is progress: force the food down, no matter what! It was blazing hot on Sunday. The temperatures soared to 94 degrees. My bike split was 2:56. I have some work to do, but I will get it done, or I will suffer like crazy come September.

Off for an hour and a half spin. More soon. Train Smart!


From Urban Dictionary under the "Triathlon Widow" heading:

A triathlete is any person who was once human, but has now transformed into something super-human, and can no longer hang out with other mere mortals. They must spend all their spare time swimming, biking, running, and shaving themselves in order to keep their new-found sport god status. During this time, they are technically still married, but their wife/husband considers them dead due to their lack of normal human function.
Note: The spouse is only considered a triathlon widow during the time the triathlete is wasting all their spare time spent training, racing, shaving, or thinking about their multi-sport addiction in general.

I'm a triathlon widow this weekend. My husband is gone from our family for 3 days to do an Iron Man race 5 states away. Yes, he had to pay to be in it, and no he does not win anything.

Back By Popular Demand: The Nephews

When I raced my first Ironman at REV3 Cedar Point back in September, my nephews met me out in Ohio to act as my support group for the weekend. They were fabulous, and comic. To know them is to love them. I am happy to announce that the comedic pair has agreed to come out once again this summer to spend a weekend with me in Ohio as I set my sights on "getting even" with that little thing called the marathon. I have a score to settle with the marathon at REV3 Cedar Point.

My nephews are twenty-something young professionals. My nephew Nicholas is a  mechanical engineer, and Michael (at the wheel) is a marketing guru. 

One look at this video and you will immediately understand why I enjoyed having them around with me Ironman weekend. They do not take themselves, or Ironman, too seriously. They kept the mood incredibly light, and just went along with the flow. Awesome. 

Training: I think I tried to come back to soon after being sick. I had a two hour trainer ride yesterday (that was truncated to an hour and fortyy-five minutes. When I was done, I was literally spent—dripping from head to tow. My body did not feel right. Last night, I paid for it. The wonderful phlegm I started coughing up reminded me that I am in fact, not immortal as I previously thought. I am really disappointed because I have wanted to get in a long run for some time and I had an hour run scheduled for today. My body just feels terrible still. This is SO frustrating! What do you do? Take two or three days off? 

I am back at the Colleges this week teaching, so I want to be healthy for that as well. There is nothing worse than sitting in front of a class lecturing while you feel your lungs are about to collapse, or you have a sinus headache. 

I have a pretty long swim workout next week that includes an 800 kick. Yes.... an 800 kick, so I would like to be healthy for that. Oh, and I would like to grow fins for that as well. 

More soon. Train Smart!

Rev3 Cedar Point: Race Report

FRIDAY: Ah, Ironman. It lasts but a day, but my journey began back in January when I decided I was going to make it official and start training. Some might say that it was at this point that I had completely gone mad, as I embarked on a part-time job that I would never get paid for, spend countless hours away from family, sacrificing sleep, beers, good-humor, pork fat, ice cream and countless other 21st-century creature comforts. Not only that, but in my third season of triathlon, a lot of people suggested getting another year or two of HIM's in before I attempted the "Big Boy." Ignorance is bliss, isn't it?

I was pretty fired up all week for my trip out to Ohio to race Ironman. One of the things I was most worried about all year was getting sick days before the event—or worse—the  morning of Ironman. Although, I did not come down with anything as life-threatening ebola virus, I did start getting a terrible case of the sniffles, and a sore throat. I was really concerned how my energy level was going to be for the event, and how this might affect my performance. Perhaps it was the nerves, the endorphins, or the incredible amount of adrenaline pumping though my body all weekend, but once I hit Sandusky, Ohio, I forgot all about feeling under the weather.

The weeks leading up to Ironman were some of the busiest weeks of my life. I was trying to work in my last little bits of training all while starting a new job with new students, and new colleagues. I did not underestimate how difficult the transition was going to be, only how much time it was going to take  me to prep new classes and correct papers while I am worried about going out for a half hour run.

I booked my hotel online. I have learned that this can be one of the greatest moves one can make—as evidence of the hotel Alaina and I stayed at in New York City—or, dreadfully misleading from the pictures, as was the case with the Howard Johnson Express that I stayed at in Sandusky. First, let me just clarify one thing: when I saw the words "Express" in the description of the hotel, I assumed it was a Holiday Inn Express, and had absolutely no qualms about breaking out my credit card and booking a three day stay only miles from America's Roller Coast—Cedarpoint. Yes, I ignored the little part about it only being a two-star hotel, and the fact that it could have been at the center of a crime-laden neighborhood for all I knew. It was relatively inexpensive, and they had beds. Well, when I arrived at my room, it made my college dormitory room seem quite large. It was small—real small. I had a ton of gear and I brought both my triathlon and road bike out, which had to be stored in the room. (I get really paranoid about leaving my bike on the rack even at my own home.) The bathroom was a little larger than a thimble. I actually had to step to the left side against the wall to actually close the door—hysterical! Keep in mind, I booked this room for me and my two grown nephews. Yikes!

I got settled in, and drove up to the park to pick up my race packet. It was fairly empty; only a few athletes walking around. Most of them were gone, or on their way out as I was parking. It also took me about twenty minutes to find the actual right place to park. Packet pickup had been closed for about five minutes, but I gave the woman some sighs, and she felt sorry for me and grabbed my packet anyway. Since I never have run an iron distance event, I had no idea what to expect. I received five bags in my packet:

Morning Clothes, Swim to Bike Clothes, Bike to Run Clothes, Bike Special Needs, and Run Special Needs.  I did not have to use the Morning Clothes bag since both of my nephews accompanied me in the morning and took my clothes for me. One less bag I had to get nearly thirteen hours later.

I went back to my cubicle, er, hotel room shortly after this and got into bed. I had picked up a sub at the greatest supermarket in the world—Wegmans. on the way out to Ohio.  Now I was sitting in my room eating half of it and pounding Gatorade as if my life depended on it.

SATURDAY: I checked the schedule Friday evening and saw that the Saturday practice swim was from 7-9:00 a.m. So, I got up around 6:30 and went to The Cracker Barrel Restaurant for some pancakes. The pancakes were "eh" at best. I would seriously have to think about where to have my pre-race meal now. I drove all the way to the beach at the tail end of the amusement park, only to turn back around and head back to my hotel room because I had forgotten my swim cap. Ugh! I finally did get out there. The waves were dreadfully ginormous out on the beach that morning. I would say that the swells were probably a good four feet once you got out about four hundred yards or so. The race director planned for two courses depending on which way the wind was coming from the morning of the race. I was hoping it would be calmer than this. I headed out into the surf. I must admit, when I got about 500 yards out, I started to panic a little bit. I took a stroke with my left arm and there was NO water underneath me. Then my body just fell down the crest of the wave. I took about thirty seconds, did some breaststroke. I regained my composure and started back out again. After that incident, I was completely fine the rest of the way—actually enjoying the waves, and getting tossed around like a little kid. In fact, I did something in the water that I don't think I do very often when swimming. I smiled. When I got out of the water, I saw the Trakkers team  down on the beach asking athletes if they wanted to try some type of wetsuit glide, anti-chaffing thingy. I saw my blogger buddy Anne and took a picture with her on the beach.

Congratulations on an awesome race Anne!

After the swim, I went back to my hotel room, cleaned up a bit, washed out my wetsuit from all the sand, and laid back down in bed a bit more until the mandatory bike check in opened at 11:00 a.m. I actually did not arrive at the park until noon. I walked around the expo for a bit. I saw that there was a place to get massages. I signed up for a A.R.T., or active release massage. I get talking to my therapist, and find out that this cat went to the same undergraduate school that I did. What are the odds of that?! So, clearly, I had to get a picture taken with him. Thanks for the massage Chris!

I got my bike into transition around 1:00, right before the pro meeting. Right after the pro meeting, I introduced myself to pro, Jacqui Gordon and asked for a picture with her (I have clearly overcome my shyness.) I have to say, Jacqui is as cool in person as you ever hope a professional triathlete to be. She is down to Earth, personable, and willing to answer any questions you have about the sport.






My nephews rolled into town around 4:00. After checking into my enormous suite at the HoJo Express, we realized that we were all starving. So, we rode down the street to Perkins—a regional restaurant chain known for their breakfasts'—for my official pre-race dinner:

Ironman pre-race dinner: Four pancakes, three eggs over medium. home fries,  bacon, and dry rye toast. Any questions? Don't worry, I ate plenty of fruit that night. 

My nephews and I went back to the hotel, watched a little t.v. and were sleeping by 7:30 p.m. Yes, 7:30! Most times, before a triathlon, I get too amped up to sleep. I don't know if it was because I was a bit under the weather, or just still exhausted from my busy week and ride out, but I did not have ANY trouble falling asleep. In fact, this might have been the best I have ever slept before a triathlon—ever!

SUNDAY: We woke up around 4:15 a.m. The thought of eating anything, absolutely made me want to gag. However, I kept on drinking Gatorade all morning. I got my bags into the transition area. Everything was handled really nicely by the Rev3 volunteers; no chaos. I got body marked and put my water bottles on the bike. While at my bike filling up my tires, I noticed that my bike computer was not registering my speed. Pfffttttt!  Who needs to know their speed?  Okay... okay... I walked my bike over to the mechanics and had them take a look. My sensor had just dropped down. The mechanic repositioned it and screwed it on tightly. The bike was ready. I walked onto the beach and down to the swim start. It seemed like I was the only person on the beach that morning. Oh, because I was. A lot of athletes were staying in the hotel in the park, so they went back there and warmed up, got more sleep.... who knows? 

Representing New York and keeping warm before the swim start. 

THE SWIM: For all my anxiety all through training about the swim, this was by FAR the easiest part of my day. When I first got in the corral,  I did what I always do, and made my way unconsciously

towards the front, before realizing that I am not that fast of a swimmer, and there is a pretty decent chance that I might drown from everyone swimming over me. I took my time the first half mile, just finding my pace. I felt great. I wanted to push the tempo a little, but being my first Iron distance race, I decided to keep swimming steadily and save my energy for the long day ahead of me. When I got to the final buoy, there was a guy in a kayak standing up and letting everyone know that we had a half mile to go. I smiled, thinking to myself.... "Wow... I am about to complete an Ironman swim. Three years ago I couldn't swim at all."

T1: Pretty uneventful. I found my bag, and took off my wetsuit. I now understand why age-grouper T1 times for Ironman are usually much longer than their half splits. Luckily, there were a ton of great volunteers helping athletes with everything. Some young volunteer even put suntan lotion on my body before I headed out onto the bike. Well, everywhere except the small of my back, which resembled a crimson crustacean, and was burnt to a crisp after getting of my bike. 

THE BIKE: Awesomeness. I love biking. Going out, it took me a bit of time to find my tempo. After that, it felt as though I was passing everyone. I think I remember only being passed by about a dozen athletes on the bike. I think at least three or four were pros who caught me on my first lap while they were on their second. That's not too demoralizing. I watched my speed, and felt pretty good the whole way. The last part of the course found us heading west towards the park into a brutal headwind. I noticed that I started to slow don considerably here. I did stop for about a minute at mile 50 to grab my special needs bag. I took some more gels that I did not end up needing. I followed through with the nutrition plan that I had practiced all along on my long rides—approximately 300 calories every half hour by  means of gels/shotblox, and Gatorade. The most difficult part of my day was on the bike between miles 80-95. I looked down at my odometer and went ... "wow... I have to pedal 30 more miles..."  *SIGH* I called on my father to help me at various times throughout the race, and this was one of those times. I know he was out there with me. 

T2: It was here that I believe I made my first crucial Ironman error. The night before, I had debated whether or not I was going to wear my fuel belt. "Race like you train.... race like you train," had been my mantra all along. However, going into the run, I realized that the fuel belt was unnecessary, uncomfortable, and felt like it weighed a thousand pounds. Plus, I had forgotten to take out all the excessive nutrition from my bib when I started out my run. Midway through the first lap of the marathon, I dropped a Clif Bar, and some gels at an aid station and continued on. 

THE RUN: This is where I made my second, and probably more fatal error. My first couple of miles were decent on the run—not fast—but very comfortable. I felt a little warm, and because it was so breezy, I decided to unzip my bib and pull it down to my waist. Not good. You see, although I prefer not to wear a shirt from say... mid-May until October, the sun has way too much surface area to beat down on your body and fatigue the heck out of you. I realized this around mile 12 of the run. When I went back out for my second loop, I zipped up my bib and started pouring water over my body to stay cool. I had another problem on the run that I am not sure was due to the scorchingly obscene distance that I had to run, or the fact that my new shoes were just not built for this distance. I decided to go with a lighter New Balance trainer a couple of weeks before Ironman. My feet hurt pretty much from the onset, which is really strange for me. Usually, I do not have any sort of foot pain at all running. I will have to figure that one out.

THE FINISH: My goal all along was to finish in under 13 hours. When I was 5k out, I looked at my watch and thought "...am I going to be able to do this?" It is amazing how fast your legs will start  moving when you are trying to meet a goal. With a mile and a half left to go, I put the proverbial hammer down‚ (which had now been reduced to a mere rubber mallet.) Running the last eight hundred yards, I suddenly found energy in my legs that I had no idea was there. I ran through the finishing chute high- fiving everyone on the left side. I crossed the finish line and got my official finisher shirt—a shirt I shall wear with pride. 

CONCLUSION: I am happy with my Ironman debut. Sure, I wish that I could have actually run more of the marathon, but I know I trained as much as I could have with the time that I had. If I had my way, I would do an Ironman every year. If the wifey said "decide between running a handful of sprints and olympic distance events, or one Ironman a year, I would run Ironman. Don't get me wrong, I LOVE running Sprints, Olympics, and HIM's, but I have never run a race that was more fun, and gratifying than this. ALSO—I have a score to settle with the marathon. Now that I have run one of these puppies, I have gained a lot of experience. I know I can train smarter, and more efficiently, and take a big chunk of my time off my race next time around. Of course, I will not make any decision to run another Ironman until everyone in the family is on board again. 

Thanks for all of you said prayers, thought of me, 

THE NUMBERS:

SWIM: 1:24:57

T1: 4:35

BIKE: 5:50:49

T2: 5:50

RUN: 5:31:41

TOTAL: 12:57:53

Apparently, this is what my nephews think about as I am running Ironman:

Two Days Out!

What goes through MY mind two days before Ironman?

Data, of course!

Here are some other things I am thinking about:

1. I have not been doing anything... running, swimming, biking. Okay, maybe a little. Can I still run an Ironman?

2. Upon finishing—I hope— how long will it be until I can walk again?

3. If I really, really, really love the experience, how many years will have to go by until I can convince my wife that it is time to run another one?

4. How many days do I get to wear the race t-shirt/hat/cape/every other piece of gear that I will purchase to prove that I ran this race before it is really lame?

5. How long do I get to talk about Ironman after my event before I become "that guy" to my coworkers?

I went out on a half hour run last night at 9:00 p.m. I had just come home from work, got the kids in bed, and my body was just itching to get out there and run. I really had to dial it back, because I felt like a racehorse chomping at the bit to sprint.  That's good, right?


As my triathlon season comes to a close, want to use this post as an opportunity to thank everyone who has supported me this year. Let's start with the obvious:

1. My family: You have been incredibly supportive and PATIENT supporting me as I logged countless hours away from home. We have sacrificed a lot together—thank you!    p.s. Huge family activities planned for the months of October and November.

2. My sponsors: especially the fine folks at crankskins.com—whose coolest company slogan ever, "Wrap Your Crank" has been the subject of numerous emails, blog fodder, and safe sex education classes this entire season, Blue competition bicycles for making me much faster than I really am on the bike, Lazer Helmets, and H20 Audio. Thanks for ensuring that I could actually take part in a sport that I absolutely love without mortgaging my home, getting divorced, and not holding a baked good sale once a week.

3. My blog readers and follower: I have gotten amazing motivation, training tips, psychotherapy, the occasional chastisement, and encouragement from all of you. Thanks for reading, and following along with me. I've loved your comments and your words of wisdom.

Okay, updates from the site to come!

Train smart!

T Minus ... Holy COW, It's Iron Week!

Yes, Rev 3 Cedarpoint Iron Distance is right around the corner. Am I ready? Ha!  Are you ever truly ready to go 140.6 miles? Really?

Have I told you how much I enjoy tapering?  It's a good thing.

Last week was a blast. Wifey and I celebrated our 10 year anniversary in NYC. I had to be in NYC for a concert of my music, so I surprised wifey by asking our families if they would chip in and watch the kids for the weekend. Everyone was down, so I bought a couple of plane tickets, booked a hotel, and we were off to celebrate 10 years, five kids, a mortgage, and more fun times to come. For a while there, we were averaging a kid every 1.6 years. Not bad, eh?

The wife and I are very different people in a lot of respects. She's a planner when it comes to the kids—you know, the juice boxes are ready, snacks, lunch if we're out too late, etc.

Me? If I am taking the kids out for the afternoon, I play it by ear. I am usually scrambling to find bathrooms, water fountains, and inexpensive places to feed five children. However, when it comes to an itinerary for our mini-cation, we had absolutely no prescribed agenda (other than making my concert Sunday afternoon on East 74th.)  We flew into JFK and took the Airtrain into the Jamaica Station.

Evidently, I am not from Queens.

Of course, the one thing I was concerned about was getting in some workouts. Despite how tempting it was with all the heat, I am not about to swim in the Hudson. Sorry Gotham dwellers, that is where I draw the line. I will not be running the New York City Triathlon anytime soon. I did, however, look for a hotel with a pool. Unfortunately, and fortunately, I got talked out of staying further south—we stayed on East 52nd so that we could be in the center of everything  midtown. So, I did not end up getting a swim in, but it was okay. The hotel had some treadmills. Wifey was a little concerned with me going out for a run, when really, I don't know where the heck I am going, and I would most likely get hit by a car my with my attention span. Secondly, I have the internal compass of a blind giraffe (I don't even know what this means, but the point I am trying to illustrate is that I have a lousy sense of direction in cities.) It had been a while since I've been in New York. It is almost impossible to get lost in NYC though. I mean, the city is pretty clear. It is laid out like a grid. Avenues run north-south, and streets run east-west. The only confusing thing is that 1st and 2nd avenue are on the east side, and the numbers get progressively higher from right to left—weird.

After dropping off our accoutrement at the hotel, wifey and I were famished. Despite our hope to get some good street food—you know: meat on a stick—we ended up going to a pretty good
"Mexican-y" type restaurant for burritos, beer, and margaritas. Actually, I had the beer. Wifey had the margarita. Of course, after just one, I had a nice enough buzz that I could quite possibly pass out. Shortly after that, we walked to a bike shop further uptown to see about renting a bike in the morning. I had to get out for a run in the morning, and Alaina said she would join me. Then, for some reason unbeknownst to me, Alaina talked me into getting my very first pedicure. That's right ladies and gentlemen, my nasty feet were pampered, exfoliated, rubbed down, and filed with the utmost care and precision. I am a little embarrassed to admit this, but it was pretty awesome. Can you imagine a bunch of dudes going out to a spa, drinking white zinfandel together, talking about triathlon and getting pedicures. Don't answer that. You can not see our feet in this picture, but trust me, they are in heaven.

 So after our pampering, we walked about fifteen city blocks back to our hotel to get ready for dinner. On the way there, we ran into the most amazing candy store on Planet Earth called Dylan's Candy Bar. This place was the REAL deal my friends. Three stories of candy and chocolate from around the world. A joint that would make any dentist smile from end to end. The top floor was an ice cream and candy bar. Very dangerous. We could not resist this opportunity to get a picture with the Dylan bunny. Ah, yes... that's all the wifey and I need around us, more symbols of fertility. 

We were pretty excited about dinner. We planned on going to Enio and Michaels, a restaurant in the Village, just south of Washington Square Park and NYU that is so Old School that it existed in SOHO before there was a SOHO and adamantly refuses to create a restaurant webpage, Facebook page, or any other of that frivolous stuff that has nothing to do with food. Despite a zero advertising budget, they manage to stick around while neighborhoods come and go around them, relying merely on their exceptional food, and word of mouth as their sole source economic sustenance. Imagine that. 

After dinner, we decided to take a cab back from the Village to midtown—a good three and a half miles. Well, we started walking, and never quite decided on hailing a cab. So, we walked all the way back to our hotel, Alaina's feet were killing her (good thing she had gotten that pedicure earlier in the day.) I ended my day with a 10k interval training workout in a stifling hot workout room in our hotel. It was tiny, but it did the job. 

The next morning wifey said she was going to come and run with me in Central Park. My wife never runs—unless chocolate is involved—but this morning, she threw on her shoes and went out there with me. Little did we know that the NYC Road Runners Club was going to be in the park that morning. We jumped in and just started running the course. People were amazed at how unbelievably fresh we look for mile fourteen. On the way back to the hotel, we ran into a crime fighter who is obviously really down on his luck. Apparently, crime fighting just doesn't pay what it use to. 

Later that evening, we did the Broadway thing and checked out Tony and Maria.

After the show, Alaina posed with the Statue of Liberty.

The following day was my concert at Jan Hus. What a great performance by everyone involved. The musicians were exceptional, the dancers well rehearsed and added sophisticated, intelligent choreographic essays to the music, and the space was beautiful. Here is the whole gang after the gig:

After the concert, most of us stopped and got some good eats at 

this unbelievable Italian restaurant that Alaina and I passed on the way up to the concert and thought "hey... that looks like a good place to eat."

And, boy was it ever!

Here we all are at Bella Blu 

One of the greatest parts of the whole trip—despite the obvious 10 years of marital bliss—was that I shared a concert with one of my former students who is now starting his PhD at the University of Kanas City Missouri, and another—Aaron Copland Hyzen—who studied piano and composition with me, now teaches guitar in the city, came to the concert hang and get some good eats. 

Nick Aaron and me at Jan Hus Church

On the way back from the restaurant, I told Alaina to break out the camera and take a picture of this dude. I don't know who he is, or what the heck he is doing, but it was about 100 degrees in the city that day, and this guy is just hanging out with a trench coat. I can not prove this, but somewhere inside that coat, I am sure he has a copy of J.D. Salinger's The Catcher In The Rye stashed away.

Eventually, all good things must come to an end. It was time to pack up my stuff in my car and motor out of the city.

Oh, and am I stressed about Ironman? Nah, not really. I don't have any expectations, except for trying not to drown during the swim and finishing come hell on high water. 

I have been feeling a bit under the weather this week—I was totally stressing about this all summer, and sure enough, not feeling 100%. I am just trying to take things easy and hydrate as much as possible this week and relax. Pshaw... it's only an Ironman anyway. (I am kidding Ironman gods—please have mercy on my soul!!!)

Next Up: Ironman post AND a really cool review of my totally awesome new super-duper fast helmet. Thanks Lazer!

The Duh Report, And Other Odds And Ends

There are things along my journey towards ironman that I think should be plainly obvious to me, but yet have struggled immensely to grasp.

For instance, training for ironman takes time. A lot of time. It takes a supportive family. When I finish (hopefully) Rev 3 Cedar Point, I am taking that medal and putting around the neck of the person who really deserves it more than anyone else on the planet—my wife. She put up with all the weekend bike rides, with my crabbiness after I get the kids in bed because I am thinking about:

° How I did not train as much as I was suppose to
° Whining about how frackin' tired I am all the time (no sympathy from her there)
° How sore I am from swimming, biking, and running more in one day than I have up to that point in  my life.
° How I will have to turn off training for a while come 13 September and remember how to be a composer and musician again.

Then, of course, there are some things that I could have never have anticipated. Because my first obligation is my family and work, there have been times when I have had to make the easy, but painful choice between training or spending time with my family. Given the choice, I am always going to choose my family, even it means I will not be able to feel my quads for weeks following ironman. This past Friday, I was scheduled to do a run/bike/run. The run was suppose to be 1:45, followed by a 45 minute bike ride, followed by a one hour run. Seriously? Get real training schedule. As it were, Luca had two afternoon baseball games. So, I ended up fitting in my workout in between his game, truncating each section a little bit. Okay, to be honest, I only ended up running about 15 minutes of my second run. The legs were fine. My nutrition was solid. I felt pretty good conisdering how hot and humid it was. The first one was at 11:00, the second at 3:00. Could I have gone out early in the morning, say 5:30, 6:00 and been done in time for his first game? Sure. But burning the candle at both ends has me spending some quality time with the wifey talking until 11:30,  midnight. One thing I seriously have to work on this next month is getting my butt to bed early—real early—and trying to start up my early morning routine again.

However, there are quite a few things that I have really enjoyed about training for ironman:

° Eating an insane amount of food  at all hours of the day.
° The camaraderie of training with people that make you work harder.
° Improving technique (my swim technique can only get better)
° The conversations I have with people when I explain to them.."Yes, it is all in one day."

Adam and I had a nice two mile swim on Wednesday followed by an hour bike ride. We then decided that we should take advantage of Wednesday night all you can eat sushi at one of our favorite sushi bars.

Our sushi chefs, Maria and Julia made us some hand rolls first. Too delicious!

 The ever shy Maria getting ready to slice and dice some avocados.

Julia did 99% of our rolls.

Two hand made hand rolls= YUMMY

Then, it was time for the smörgasbord. Yes, I successfully worked in the work smörgasbord AND and an umlaut in the same post. BONUS points.

I can not even remember what everything was, but man, was it delicious!

In the spirit of all you can eat sushi, Adam and I thought it would be almost offensive—like eating dinner at an Italian household—if we did not ask for more rolls after this. So, we shared three more rolls between us (in addition to the three we had after the hand rolls, and before this beautiful array of culinary art.

Adam posing with his new best friends. This is the face of
a sushi-drunk human. Did I mention ladies, he single?

OTHER NEWS: Did I mention I am also transitioning into a new gig? Check this place out! Isn't it just beautiful?

Okay, this is  not the building I will be teaching in, but it is right
next to it. 

Not a bad view of the campus from my blimp, eh?

Okay, go ahead those of you not in the know. Where is  

this mysterious new campus I will be teaching at

starting this fall?

Okay, I am off to the lake for another disciplined two mile swim. I did a 2-miler Wednesday with Adam. He finished before me, but it took me about 55 minutes. At least I know I can go the distance now, and the time. 

Okay, more exciting news coming soon. I have a meeting scheduled with Aquawoman. 

Train Smart!

Ramping Up During A Recovery Week: Great Fun!

Only FIFTY days left until Rev3 Cedar Point Iron Distance, but who's counting?  Me. Every day, minute, and second. Nothing like running a HIM and throwing yourself back into the fire to prepare for an iron distance event. I did some serious work during recovery week—if you can call it a recovery week. I managed a 12 mile speed workout, two open water swims of about two miles, a hundred mile bike, followed up the next day with a 14 mile run. Yeah. Feeling good. Thank goodness today is a rest day. I am resting, and hydrating. My legs felt surprisingly well on my run for beating the heck out of them on that ride the day before.

The week was also filled with a lot of family and job related activities. This past weekend, Luca participated in four All-star baseball games over three days. It was a family event. We had a picnic during his afternoon game Friday, and the wifey brought a sheet pizza to his second game on Saturday. This pizza was consumed with great vigor after my hundred mile ride earlier that morning. I am also amazed at the appetite of my four year old twins. How is it that little girls can eat so much food? Don't worry, we packed plenty of veggies to accompany the gobs of yummy melted mozzarella cheese and delicious pepperoni and mushrooms. For dessert, Alaina broke out a watermelon and we cleansed our palettes.

Here is how it went down:

Traveled south into the wind. Averaged around 17.5-18.0 m.p.h.  Then we travelled east. Felt a little better. We had moments when the wind died down and we were cruising at a nice 23-26 m.p.h. pace. Then we rode around Canandaigua Lake. We traveled south along the west side of the lake first. Not blazing fast. A lot of spinning here. We were all really looking forward to the big payoff; diving down from the bluff to the east side of the lake. It is a decent four mile descent and really fast. You can easily go over fifty m.p.h. (80 km.) on this stretch of road if you do not value your limbs, or teeth. Personally, I value both my ability to stand upright and my chiclets, and start to consider how tightly I put that skewer back on my front wheel after getting it down from my roof rack any time I am going over thirty miles per hour. I mean, seriously, at 30 m.p.h. you may as well kiss your sweet cuspids goodbye and sign yourself up for a lifetime of permanent dental work if you crash at that speed. Okay... better not to even think of that. The worst part—I did not have to think of it at all. Adam plotted out a fine course a couple days prior to our departure, but how was he to know that the fastest part of our day was going to be the slowest because the road was ground up awaiting resurfacing? So, I rolled, er, moseyed on down (yes, I used the word moseyed,) this steep decline at the speed of a constipated tortoise. I was not about to wreck my rims, break a spoke, get a flat, or fall on my butt by trying to defy the bike gods on this day. They have spoken. Let these Crankskins fools not go fast down a hill on this day. And so it was. To be honest with you, I never really go  more than I am comfortable with, even in a race. I am sure I could handle my ride just fine, it is my children that I think about. They need their daddy, and I need to be there for them.

Riding north along the lake ended up boosting our daily average nicely. On our way back, we stopped in the town of Canandaigua to see a couple of friends who were racing a two mile open water swim in the lake that day. What kind of imbecile does this you ask? Alexa, that's who. I also met up with a couple of super Aquaman type swimmers who I am convinced have gills behind their ears like Kevin Kostner in Water World (the finest film ever made about post-apocalyptic water covered Earth.)

Okay, this weekend I am taking a trip to the triathlon Mecca of the east coast. Need a hint? Think 1980 Olympics' Miracle on Ice. Going there with Adam to volunteer for IMLP. The goal was to volunteer so that we could both get in line to sign up for IMLP 2011. However, life has a funny way of derailing you—sometimes for the best—and making us adjust our trajectory. I have not mentioned anything as of yet, but I have accepted a position to teach at a small private institution that shall remain nameless for the time being, but it is exactly the right opportunity at the right time, and I am thrilled to be a part of the faculty. Of course, I would love to run Placid next year, but performing well and maintaining an active career trumps any desire I have of competing in another iron distance event for the foreseeable future. Like I said, I will not tell you were the new gig is (and please don't spoil it—all you in the KNOW,) but isn't the campus just lovely? I mean check out that quad. I haven't seen a quad like that since Greg LeMond in the 1989 Tour de France time trial versus Laurent Fignon (who arguably has a far cooler name.)

If the blog posts seem few and far between these days, it is because outside of my family and work obligations, I am trying to fit in the miniscule amount of time I have left over to train. 

On the docket today: A lazy 45 minute swim and half hour run. Yawn. Barely a workout. Of course, I am suppose to have a 5:15 bike on Saturday. I don't see that happening. Story at eleven. 

Train Smart!