Define Torture

It's 3:55 on Friday afternoon before a 3-day holiday weekend.  84 degrees with scattered clouds.  There are probably three attorneys in the office, including me.  And every time I look up from my work, I see MacAttac peeking from behind the door, like a dog with a leash in its mouth.

Long rides and runs are painful.  But it's even more painful to stay focused when a beautiful ride awaits.

I must be feeling better ...

Because I just signed up for the Patriots Half-Ironman in Williamsburg VA on September 8.  Bring it! 

I have actually recovered from the Kinetic Half rather quickly this time around.  I took Sunday and Monday off exercising, but I completed an hour of swim drills on Tuesday and rode my bike 47 miles today.  While my feet are still a little fatigued, I plan on running in the next couple of days.  I have a couple of running races on the schedule for June, but nothing else really until IM Florida in November. 

10 Reasons to run the Patriots Half:

1. It gives me another event to look forward to prior to Ironman Florida.  5 months is just too long to go without a race.
2. It is still 2 months before Florida, so if there are any problems, I should be able to correct them.
3. I have a place to stay in Williamsburg.
4. Rob Stone will be running it as well, and Rob makes any race fun.
5. The course is flat, similar to the course in Florida.
6. The swim course is in brackish water.  There is simply no other way to practice open-water swimming than, well, swimming in open water.
7. Let's be honest.  I've never ranked so high in a multisport event as the Kinetic Half (and the Rumpus, for that matter).  Maybe I want to recapture the magic one more time before I turn into a pumpkin (Florida).
8. I need to redeem myself for my poor showing on the run course last year (after I ran on only 2 hours of sleep).
9. Of course, I can't discount the allure of riding The Assassin on the open road with no stoplights, street crossings, or angry pedestrians.
10. All the free Gatorade, Hammer Gels, and flat Coke that I can consume in 5 hours.  Yummy!

Race Report: Kinetic Half-Ironman 2012

Official Time:  5:04:07  (Rank: 74/374 men, 14/55 in age group)

Swim 1.2mi: 41:00 / T1: 3:04 / Bike 56mi: 2:33:22 / T2: 2:05 / Run 13.1mi: 1:44:38

Some days, 74th place feels like 1st place.  Saturday, after cutting 52 minutes off my 2010 Half-Ironman personal record, I felt like an absolute champion.  The swim went well, the bike was fantastic, and the run was my best ever. 

It could have gone all wrong in so many ways.  Traffic kept me from picking up my packet the night before the race, so my original plan to "sleep in" until 5:30 was foiled.  The hotel that Rob Stone and I stayed in was only $50 a night.  When was the last time you only spent $50 on a hotel room?  If you're smart, then you've NEVER spent $50 on a hotel room.  And the morning started out cold ... and really foggy.  This is a picture I took about 30 minutes prior to the 7am scheduled start time.  Can you see any of the orange buoys?  Neither could the race organizer, so the start time was delayed 15 minutes.

I suppose I lost track of time during the fog delay, so imagine my surprise when the horn sounded for wave 1.  (I was in wave 2, 3 minutes later.)  So I finished putting myself together and ran down to the beach.  My first goal was to not get beat by Rob Stone, whose wave started 9 minutes after mine.  If you think 9 minutes is a long time, you haven't seen how slow I swim!

The Swim:  41:00.  (276 out of 374 men.  eek.) 
There is so much to love about triathlon, and so much to hate about each specific discipline.  For example, I love swimming in open water.  I hate getting kicked in the lats.  And getting an elbow to my right temple.  (For the record, I got a fistful of someone's swim cap and goggle strap, so I suppose we're even.)  Note in the photo below that I have given up on my plan to start "in the middle," and have reverted to starting "in the back."

I have swum in Lake Anna often enough that I could just about describe the taste of the water.  It was a balmy 69 degrees -- warmer than the two previous times I've contested this race.  The hardest part about this particular swim was the sun peeking over the horizon.  On the backside of the triangle, and especially on the home stretch, the sun was right in my eyes.  In fact, I never saw any of the 3 or 4 buoys on the home stretch because I couldn't see anything straight ahead.  I just tried to keep an eye on the swimmers to the left and right of me.  I unfortunately got a little bit off course, so my overall swim time was off by a minute or two from my best.

Obviously, I still felt fresh at this point.

The Bike: 2:33:22  (21.92mph average, rank 52/374)
Apparently my prayers to the Gods of Transition have been noted.  I had the spot at the very top of the row, so I didn't have to fight for space while I yanked off my wetsuit.  I took this photo before the race to show off my excellent spot.

I knew coming out of the water that I was on track for a time similar to 2010.  I watched my heart rate during the first loop on the bike to make sure I kept it between about 140-150, with a few exceptions for the steepest hills.  The course was more "rolling" than I had remembered, but I was still glad to be on The Assassin.  This bike has paid for itself many times over.  (Thanks Honey!)

At the end of the first loop, I realized that I was clicking out a record pace.  At that point, I had already taken 15 minutes off my personal best.  So I kept up the pace as much as possible.  One more benefit to being in an early swim wave is that there are very few bikers on the road during the first loop.

The only thing that slowed me down on the second loop was a truck pulling a wide trailer.  He was chugging along behind a slow rider on an uphill, and refused to go around.  Normally, I would have blown around the truck, except that a race official was right behind me on a motorcycle.  In this race, if you cross the yellow line, you are automatically disqualified.  Race over.  So I loafed behind this trailer up a long uphill for what seemed like forever (but was probably only 3 or 4 minutes).  Once the race official got impatient and passed the truck himself, I sneaked around the trailer, followed by about 10 other riders who were waiting for someone else to take the penalty.  Luckily, I did not draw a penalty, though I wasn't sure until I checked the final results on Sunday.

So much to love and hate about traithlon.  I absolutely love the feeling of fluid legs beneath me, churning out an even cadence, my body tucked into an aerodynamic position, hitting 25 mph on a flat.  I absolutely hate the last few miles, when legs are on fire, form is falling apart, and each turn of the pedals feels heavier than the last.  The constant rhythm of your cadence can almost hypnotize you after a few hours.  I find myself repeating several phrases under my breath in these times:

Shut up legs!  Shut up legs!
Trust your training.  Trust your training.
Quiet upper body, fluid legs.  Quiet upper body, fluid legs.

Yes, it was painful.  But I knew that I was working on a personal best, and by the time I finished the bike, I had cut a total of 35 minutes off my personal best.

The Run:  1:44:38 (7:59/mi average pace, rank 77/374) 
For some reason, I didn't think Alisha had gotten a good enough flex photo, so I gave the crowd several more.  Note the bottle of sunscreen in my right hand.  (Thanks Honey!)  I've done a lot of things while running full speed -- now I can say that I've put sunscreen on my own back while turning out a sub-8 minute mile.

I didn't have high hopes for a good run time.  Last fall I ran a half-Marathon (as part of a Half-Ironman relay team), and pulled off a 1:46.  My feet have been bothering me lately, so my mileage is nowhere near what I had hoped.  That said, when I got off the bike, my back and thighs felt surprisingly fresh, and it didn't take me long to find my efficient stride.  In fact, for the first two of three loops through the park, I felt great.  Joking with people, showing off my biceps, thanking all of the volunteers, high-fiving the kids.  It was about mile 10 when things started falling apart.

I was on pace for a sub-5 hour Half-IM.  The thought of it was intoxicating.  The big boys race at 4:something ... I found myself really pushing through the run, breezing through aid stations, focusing on my stride, and watching the clock like my life depended on it.  But at about mile 10, my right calf started twitching, as if it was ready to cramp.  I don't know if I was dehydrated, low on sodium, or just worn out, but every time I tried to push off my right leg, the cramp threatened to manifest itself. 

I looked at the watch and ran the math again ... If I pushed it for a few more miles, I could break 5 hours.  If I pushed too hard, I could have a debilitating cramp, and I would literally not finish the race with a couple of miles left.  I thought about how hard I had worked for the last 4+ hours, and decided to ease off the throttle.  I couldn't be disappointed in a low-5-hour Half-Iron, even though I came so close to running with the big boys.  Plus, I still beat my half-marathon time from the Patriots Half-Ironman last fall (when I didn't swim or bike before running it)!

Did I forget to flex for any photos?  Well, just in case, here's a freebie!

At the end of races like this, I've noticed that athletes are so worn down, and so focused on finishing, that they never smile or even respond to the crowd cheering.  So I decided before I began this race that I'd really ham it up at the end.  So as I approached the finish, I started swinging my arms like Hulk Hogan, screaming YEEAAAAHHHH!  YEEAAAAHHH!  It was certainly more fun for me.  (though the crowd didn't seem to care)

Again, so much to love about triathlon, and so much to hate.  I hate having to run on sore knees, twitching calf, and toes that are certain to turn dark colors the next day.  But I love crossing the finish line, looking at my watch, and letting the endorphins wash over my brain like a tsunami. 

Here I am with Rob Stone, who took 1st place in the Clydesdales division!   I've said it before, but this was the race of my life.  Perfect weather, good luck, and good training.  Now, for a light week to reset my brain, and on to training for Ironman Florida.

One more thing I absolutely love about triathlon:  My wife.  Alisha always gives me first priority for my workouts.  She never complains when I need to get in a long bike ride or when I'm late coming home from work because of a workout.  And she woke up before 5am Saturday to drive herself and Emory down to Lake Anna to take 342 photos of me and Rob (including about 341 of me flexing), even though she had a million other things to do.  I'm really lucky to have her. 

Bring on the sufferfest. And the vomit.

Saturday is the Kinetic Half-Ironman Triathlon at Lake Anna, VA.  I have completed this triathlon twice before -- 2006 and 2010.  As part of the race preview, here is a brief "race review" of the two previous races.

2006 - 6:23:19
As part of my "If anyone can do a triathlon, then so can I" routine of 2006, I signed up for the Kinetic as a "halfway point" on my way to a full Iron that October.  In 2006, the Kinetic was in April, a few weeks earlier in the season than it is currently.  It was my first real long-distance triathlon, and though I had trained more than ever before, I was not entirely prepared for the event.  On top of that, race conditions were not great. 

• The lake temperature was 52F that morning.  That's like swimming in a Diet Coke that you just pulled out of the refrigerator.  It was my first time swimming in open water, and my first time wearing a wetsuit.  Oh, and I wore tinted goggles, which are great in a well-lit swimming pool.  Not so great in the dark water.
• I couldn't swim in a straight line to save my life.  Alisha actually took a video of my second entry into the water (to swim the second loop), and I immediately shot off in a 45-degree angle away from the buoy.



• A torrential downpour hit at the beginning of the bike portion, and it did not relent until halfway through the run.  When I hit 40mph on a downhill, the raindrops felt like rocks on my cheeks.  It's a modern miracle that I did not wreck on my new triathlon bike.
• What's with my fatboy legs?  Did I really have Man-cankles?


 (You can see how wet the roads were from the rain.)





• I learned the hard way that protein drink at the start of the run "primes the pump" for vomit, the true fourth discipline of triathlon.
• I wore a totally lame biker shirt (and though I don't remember doing so, it appears that I changed into running shorts at some point).
• For more information on the evolution of my fat face, click here.

Despite my lack of experience, I actually put together a good bike split (3:01:57).  The half-marathon was slowed by a) my lack of training and b) several stops to vomit along the way.  In hindsight, if I had been able to run an average half, I would have been in the top part of the bottom half (my normal position in these types of events).  But I was glad just to finish.

2010 - 5:56:01
After I had a few more triathlons behind me, I signed up for the Kinetic in 2010.  Most importantly, I lost my fat face.  A few other factors also helped me immensely, but a few problems remained.

Lake temperature was 62F.  Ten degrees makes quite a difference in your heart rate and panic level.  And because the swim course was changed at the last minute, it may have been inadvertently shortened.  Whatever the reason, my swim split was 14 minutes faster than in 2006.

• No rain!  My shirt is actually wet from the pee in my wetsuit.  Yeah, it's gross.  I pee my pants while I'm riding my bike too.  Get over it.











• I learned the hard way (a second time) that protein drink is bad bad bad during the run.  Only this time I tried to swallow the big bubble for 12 miles.  At last, I vomited on the 12-mile marker, then ran my fastest mile to the finish.
• I had a much cooler shirt than in 2006, and my man-cankles are now gone.



• I had a larger cheering section -- Alisha and little Genevieve this time!  Alisha worked her usual magic with the camera, and she made a shirt for Genevieve that says, "I run fast ... like my daddy."

Overall, it was a fantastic race.  I was much better prepared, but I had not put in near as many miles on the bike.  In fact, I think my longest training distance was around 40 miles.  So I actually lost 6 minutes on the bike portion.  Luckily, I made up more than enough time on the swim and run.

2012 - (Aiming for sub-5:50)
This year the water temperature is projected to be 70 degrees!  No rain in the forecast, though it may be in the high-40's at start time.  I've put in more miles and more hours than ever before.  Still, I have a few nagging injuries and my run isn't where I want it to be.  So here are my goals:

• Sub-45 minute swim.  (Rob Stone starts 9 minutes after me, and my goal is to not get passed by him.)
• Sub-3-hour bike split.  I have the bike for it.  Now it's just a question of the engine.
• Sub-1:55 run.  Sure, I've run faster half-marathons in my lifetime, but not after 4 hours of swimming and biking.  Have you?
• No vomit.  (Unless it's a spectacular one.)  I will resist the protein drink like I resist chick-flicks.  Both have the same effect after a half an hour.

Bring it!

Stretching is for injured people.

I used to wake up an extra half-hour early to run an extra 4 miles before work.  Now I wake up an extra half-hour early to stretch my aching limbs before and after my runs.  It's so responsible.  And so pathetic.

I often tell people that my stretching routine is like a history book of every injury I've ever had.  The Incas tied knots in their Quipus to memorialize significant events; I add stretches to my routine to memorialize my painful injuries.  My history goes something like this:

- Elongate achilles, press against the wall (achilles tendons)
- Roll out hip to knee on the foam roller (IT bands, hamstrings)
- Side lunge and hold (groin, calves)
- Cross-legged stretches against the wall (lower back, right hip)
- And so on

A few more injuries, and I might have a well-rounded stretching routine!

Wednesday morning I ran a 10-mile "hill run."  Rosslyn's short, steep hills are the closest thing I have to a mountain, so I run up and down the hills to simulate something higher than a 100-foot climb.  As I was rolling out my IT bands on a foam roller afterward, a guy who recently had his knee replaced was attempting to (slowly) ride the exercise bike.  Whenever the pedals turned and his leg bent to a 90 degree angle, he cried out like someone was pulling out his fingernails.  After about 60 seconds of this, he stopped pedaling and leaned over the handlebars, weeping loudly.  (It was a little awkward, to say the least.)

I visited an orthopoedist a few years ago for stress fractures in my left tibia, and while I was waiting for my appointment, I innocently thumbed through a photo book of his previous patients.  The photos were actually of "chop & replace" knee and hip replacements.  It was possibly the most gruesome photo album ever created.  Robocop and Darth Vader still have more human parts than some of these patients.  When the doctor triumphantly sauntered into the room (the way that only doctors can), he saw my blank stare.  I told him, "I will never, ever run again."  He responded that "whether you will require knee or hip replacement in your future is all genetic - whether you run or not won't change your likelihood of joint replacement."  I took his advice like I would take candy from a dentist.  ("Some teeth are just genetically predisposed to cavities, so eat your candy!")

It is true, however, that some people are just built to run more efficiently and more trouble-free.  I have apparently passed on my substellar running form to my son.

The Kinetic Half-Ironman is only a few days away.  I always feel underprepared for this distance.  But the worst part about training for these events is the small breakdowns in joints, tendons, and muscles that are harmless in isolation, but that seem to accumulate and intensify over the weeks leading up to the race.  Friday I had intense pain in my heel -- possibly a warning shot from plantar fasciitis.  Saturday I had looseness in my right knee, and some swelling after my run on Monday. My forefeet hurt after my runs, my right achilles gives me an occasional "remember me?" and so on.

I'm never short on aerobic capacity or motivation -- just short on youth. 

Halfway There!

Here is what my training looks like for the first 6 months of training for IM Florida.

My totals so far (including the first few days of May):  Run - 302.5 mi, Bike - 1358.8 mi, Swim 67.9 mi.
As a point of comparison, the last time I trained for an Ironman, these were my totals through April:  Run - 105.3, Bike - 843.9, Swim - 27.36.  Yep, I had no idea what I was doing!

The Kinetic Half-Ironman is next weekend.  It represents the "halfway point" for training.  The Half is a totally different race than the Olympic, because you can never be 100% prepared in all three disciplines. A 6-hour race also takes a good deal more strategy than a 2.5-hour race.  In years past, I have been weak in either the swim or the bike.  I've tried to keep everything a little more balanced this time around, but I am probably the weakest in the run.  Overall run mileage is on target, but I have not run over 12 miles at a time for the last 6 months.  My hope is that because of the extra time I've spent on the bike and in the pool, I'll have a little more energy at the end.