Third Quarter Results

Two thoughts at the 3/4 mark in Ironman training. 

1.  I can't believe I'm 3/4 of the way there. 

2.  I can't believe I still have to do this for three more months.

In reality, I enjoy the workouts about 90% of the time.  The other 10% include rainy days, swims, and any sort of interval training.  So here are the numbers for 9 months of training.

Swim:  94.80 miles, 61.21 hours. 
Bike:  2,398.35 miles, 143.81 hours. 
Run: 487.12 miles, 67.20 hours.
Weights:  39.22 hours.
Total Time:  311.43 hours.

I've been trying to follow The Bible's plan for intermediate peaks & troughs, subject to the demands of work, family, and church.  Note that the two deepest troughs are family vacations in December and June.  I look at this chart and wonder why I can't just meet the weekly workout goals.  But it's VERY hard to log 12 or 15 hours of training in one week.  That's like having a second job.  Only it doesn't pay anything and it makes me vomit sometimes.

If you're into charts, here are the monthly totals for the three disciplines:

 Yes, I slack off on swimming the month after a race.  I'm only human.

If it weren't for my bike commute to work, I don't know how I'd ever get in the bike miles.

Running is the easiest of the disciplines to maintain, even during work travel, because you only have to bring along your running shoes.  (No need to locate a pool or rent a bike.)  The downside is that I've run in some awful places (like Dallas), but I've managed to get the mileage in. 

Three more months to train for Ironman Florida.  I've been extremely lucky to avoid any major injuries thus far.  My race times have improved significantly, and I feel much more confident that I can make the full distances without flopping.  Time for the final peak ...

Words Cannot Express the Misery

Saturday's ride was awful.  There is simply no better way to describe it.  The weather forecast called for a 30% chance of rain, declining throughout the day.  Although it rained hard overnight, it appeared that the rain was stopping around 6am.  We thought a 100-mile ride up River Road to Poolesville, Point of Rocks, and back on the W&OD Trail would be a stretch, but with 6 riders, we could take turns pulling and give one another breaks.

We were wrong on many counts.  By the time we got into DC, it was pouring rain.  And just when we thought it couldn't rain harder, it did.  It's hard to form a paceline when the bike in front of you is spraying grimy water up your nose like a garden hose from Hades.  So although we rode near each other, we didn't get the benefit of a slipstream for the first 50 miles.  At 50, we stopped and half of the group took a shorter loop.  I needed to log some quality miles, and the rain appeared to be slowing again, so Seth Stewart, Ryan Taylor, and I decided to hit the full 100.  As soon as we took off, it rained harder than ever.  And to make matters worse, I got a flat tire at about 52.  Yes, that's the first flat I've ever had on the MacAttac -- over 4 years now.  Worse still, the brand new tube I installed was faulty and wouldn't hold air.  Worse still, I had used up both my CO2 canisters.  It came down to the last tube and last CO2 canister ... and my tire held the pressure.  Had anyone else lost pressure for the remaining 50, somebody's wife would have had to retrieve one of us ...

Shortly after the repair, I realized that I probably didn't have the legs for a 100-miler.  Well, shame on me, because I was about 50 miles from home.  At mile 75, Seth and Ryan had to leave me behind so that they could get home on schedule.  I was actually okay with this, because I couldn't tuck into their slipstreams anyway, and I needed to bonk in private.  So I swallowed some Grandma's cookies and the rest of the food I had in my pockets, and kicked it down to 16-18 mph for the remaining 30 or so miles.  In the old days, I would have completely bonked and someone would have had to pick me up off the road.  But in my old age, I've learned how to prolong the fall, and I prolonged it long enough to get myself home.

Here is Seth at about 72 miles.  He barely broke a sweat on this ride.  Phenomenal!  And you may not be able to see the thick layer of road grime on the MacAttac, but it took me a couple of hours to clean this bike after we finished.

And here is Ryan.  I owe him more than the $10 for the tube and the CO2.  He saved me from having to call my wife and explain where Poolesville was (and why it would be fun for her to drive the kids there in their pajamas).

And here I am about 10 miles from the finish.  There was barely anyone on the trail, so there was no pressure to kick up the pace beyond "survival" speed.  Yep, that face says it all.

All things considered, this was a ride I had to make.  It's hard to get over training plateaus, and I needed to start cracking the 100-mile mark sooner or later.  (IM Florida is 3 months away.)  I was reminded again why IM training is so difficult -- sitting out a ride or a run because the conditions aren't perfect just isn't an option.  That said, I might just wait for a day when there's a 0% chance of rain for my next century attempt ...



Race, er, Ride Report: High Adventure 2012

     Last week I had the opportunity to ride a mountain bike with the young men of our church from Williamsport, MD to the Washington, DC LDS Temple via the C&O Canal Towpath.  Every year, the event (called "high adventure") is an opportunity for the age 14-18 young men and the leaders to enjoy the outdoors and challenge themselves to, well, an adventure.  It wasn't a race in the traditional sense, though Brady Jones and I certainly contested the "intermediate sprints" along the way.  Lest you believe I took the whole week off Ironman training, here is a brief rundown of the adventure:

Day 1: Williamsport, MD to Antietam National Battlefield (30 miles)
     Our first ride was in the middle of a very hot day.  Although I had asked, "Do you guys all have enough water," and the answer was, "yes," I should have checked for myself.  A young man typically needs more than 8 ounces of water for a 3-hour mountain bike ride in the heat, but that's about all they brought.  Needless to say, I was emptying my camelback into their bottles until we could refill at one of the C&O pumps.  Just prior to that, at least one young man discovered just how refreshing a cool spring could be on a hot day.

Not far from Snyder's Landing (about halfway into the 30 miles), I saw a few chickens just off the towpath, and a sign that read, "Eggs for sale."  I couldn't ride by without asking.  So I dropped $3 and carried 24 farm-fresh eggs in my backpack the rest of the way to Antietam.

If the spring water didn't kill the young men, maybe these eggs would ...

In reality, the eggs were delicious, and we ate almost all of them the next morning.  Here is a snapshot of our incredible campsite.  We basically had the place to ourselves.  No mosquitoes, quiet and cool, and a couple of rope swings were a short walk away.  It doesn't get better than this!

Day 2: Antietam to Harper's Ferry (15 miles)
     Our second day we hauled logs around Antietam for a service project, then hit the road again.  The ride into Harper's Ferry was beautiful, though we had a couple of mechanical issues with the bikes.  One bike had front brake issues that led to a brakectomy, and another bike had a chain tangle so bad that two links were twisted to about a 30 degree-from-straight angle.  Adventure?  Yes!  Our final half mile into the campsite was a decent climb.  Just enough to wake up everyone's legs.

     I log plenty of miles on my bikes every year, but this week brought me back to my childhood when my only form of transportation was a bike.  I got a bit nostalgic when we rode our bikes to the service station in Antietam to buy sodas, like a gang of kids looking for trouble.

Did I mention there was a rope swing near our campsite?  The Ranger asked us if we wanted a free tour of the Battleground, but our young men just wanted to spend a couple more hours on the rope swing.  The adults were outvoted.

Day 3: Harper's Ferry

     I've heard more than my share of West Virginia jokes, and after camping at the WV KOA Kampground, I'm here to tell you that every one of them is true.  I love people-watching, and there is no better place on earth than a KOA -- especially in the heart of West Virginia.

     We ate well on this trip.  In addition to farm fresh eggs, we had dutch oven dinners three nights.  Shepherd's pie & peach cobbler, Creamy chicken with rice & blue cornbread & brownies, and chicken pot pie & brownies. 

 I've tried to replicate this cornbread in my oven at home, even using dutch ovens, and it's just not the same as cooking it outdoors.

We spent one whole day in Harper's Ferry doing a zipline/canopy tour and floating the river, and resting our bike muscles for the big day ...

Day 4: Harper's Ferry to Swain's Lock (50 miles)

     The Cycling Merit Badge requires a buildup of successively longer rides -- 10 miles, 10, 15, 15, 25, 25, then a 50-miler to finish it off.  Our 50 was a beautiful ride along the river and canal from Harper's Ferry to Swain's Lock, just a few miles north of the District of Columbia.  This photo was taken at the start of the ride -- nobody was smiling near as much 6 hours later when we rolled into Swain's Lock.

Everyone survived the ride, though our average pace slowed by about 25% every hour after hour 1.  We celebrated at the finish with Five Guys burgers and greasy fries. 

Day 5: Swain's Lock to Washington, DC Temple (20 miles)

     The next day we cooked breakfast in the rain and set out early toward the DC Temple.  It is amazing to me that DC has so many bike paths winding through the city that you can get from the canal all the way to Kensington (where the Temple is located) without riding on city streets for more than a block or two.  After the 50-miler, this ride was easy peasy.

     Although the high adventure trip was a deviation from the normal training routine, I was reminded of a few things:  1. I had forgotten how uncomfortable a mountain bike is compared to a roadie.  2. I had forgotten how much fun a rope swing can be on a hot afternoon.  3. I had forgotten just how refreshing an adventure could be when it doesn't involve a stopwatch or heart rate monitor. 

Sigh ... back to training!

IM Training Does Not Improve ALL Athletic Abilities

I never quite mastered the backflip.  And I'm comfortable with that.  (Now that the water has finally all drained out of my brain cavity.)

The Ride That Never Was ...

Friday night I went to bed "early" (10:20) to wake up at a "reasonable time" (5:00am) for a "longish" ride on the tri bike (75 miles).  Bike was ready, clothes were neatly crumpled in a smelly ball, and 8 GUs were ready for rapid consumption.  Just after I turned off the light, this happened:

(Our house is the one in the middle that's missing the top of the chimney.)  A huge wind storm / electrical storm hit the area and knocked out trees, electricity, phone, and even (gasp) the Internet!  While I still entertained the thought of riding anyway, and hopping over "a few" trees on the trail, I'm glad I didn't.  There were broken trees everywhere!  Plus, the thought of a ride in 100 degrees without an air-conditioned home for recovery sounded a little too extreme, even for this Iron Dad.  So instead, we enjoyed the day together as a family, consuming everything we could out of our fridge.

Only a boy scout can gain weight during a power outage ...

So when I have to lumberjack the tree in my backyard, does that count as a weights workout or cardio?

Prime the Pump ...

Okay. Let's get the mea culpas out of the way early.  Yes, there is a heat advisory in DC today.  Yes, I got a late start on my run, and the temperature was already in the 80's somewhere.  And Yes, I was only planning on running 6-8 miles.  But my legs felt good, and when I hit the 4-mile marker, I told myself, "If you can run one more mile, you'll get a drink at Canal Lock 5.  My rationale was sound:  Rather than run an 8-mile round trip with no drink, why not run two 5-milers with a drink in the middle?  You would think that rationale makes sense, wouldn't you?

You'd be wrong.  The drinking fountain at Lock 5 WAS NOT WORKING.  

I don't panic easily, though I did start noticing a lot more sweat than before.  I turned around and ran two miles toward Georgetown, but the thirst started to overwhelm me.  I was never really in danger of any heat-related illness, but I was losing the mental battle.  Horror stories started popping into my mind, like the story of the whaling ship Essex, where surviving crew members were so thirsty they sucked marrow out of bones of their less-fortunate crewmates.

At the 3-mile marker, I hopped off the trail and happened across a drinking fountain.  I have run past this spot probably 100 times (98 of those times very thirsty), and have never noticed the fountain before.  Lucky for me, this fountain worked!

As I finished my run, I laughed at myself a little for panicking about the water.  Though the thought of some juicy bone marrow still sounds pretty good ...

Race Report: 2012 Ragnar Wasatch Back

I'm not a naturally gifted runner.  I'm just better at suffering.

June 15-16 I had the unique opportunity to run the 2012 Ragnar Wasatch Back with Alisha, as well as all three of my siblings.  (Though two of them were on different teams.)  Although we never all met up at the same place at the same time, we crossed paths a few times and took photos to document our mini family reunions.  Here are 3 siblings and Alisha at Exchange 6.

Alisha's friend Ali organizes a Utah Ragnar team every year, and when one of her runners dropped out a few months ago, Alisha volunteered to be on the team.  We decided to make a family vacation of it.  As time went on, a few more runners dropped out, so my brother Jeff and I both volunteered to be on the team.  I can't pass up the chance to run in Utah, in the "original" Ragnar.

Now, if you are looking for a complete report of our team's experience (Team Wii Not Fit), you'll have to look elsewhere.  I thought all of our vanmates were very cool and capable runners, and I could probably write a much longer post with 800 photos of everyone.  But alas, The Fourth Discipline is all about me, so you'll have to ask everyone else for their race experiences.

I feel incredibly lucky to be able to run with Alisha again.  She really is the best Ragnar teammate you could ask for.  Forget your sunscreen?  She has it. Forget your drinks?  She brought extra. Need a photo?  She took 8.  And so on.  She basically owns these relay races.

So on to the racing.  And forgive me for bragging about Alisha and myself ... it IS my blog, you know. 

My first two legs were very tame, by Ragnar standards.  My first (Leg 10) was only 3.8 miles, mostly flat -- but at 5,000 feet.  Although I grew up at 5,000 feet, I haven't lived at that altitude for 11 years.  So it's hard to predict how your body will react to the thinner oxygen.  Joe Friel, author of The Bible, wrote this excellent blog post about the effects of altitude on performance.  He notes that VO2 max (the body's aerobic capacity) decreases by roughly 2% for every 1,000 feet in altitude change.  So at 5,000 feet, I'm only 90% of myself.

This was apparent from the beginning of my run.  Although I breathed as if I was running "race pace," my legs just weren't moving as fast.  In fact, when a guy named Nathan passed me at mile 1, I couldn't match his pace.  He's the guy in the white shirt.  As he began to pull away from me, I told him, "Congratulations, but you should know that I don't give up easily."

The afternoon was hot, but a local fire station sprayed us down as we ran by.

If you know me at all, you know how the story ends.  I kept Nathan in sight, and slowly chipped away at his lead.  Within the last 200 meters, I caught and passed him.  See him in the white shirt, behind me?  Petty one-upmanship?  Hypercompetitive attitude?  Absolutely.  But I don't give up easily.  Besides, what fun would "racing" be if there was no real competition on the course?

I was aiming for about a 7:30/mile pace, but given my competitive spirit, I overdid it a little and turned in a pace just over 7 minutes/mile.  Probably not a good idea for the beginning of a long race.

Wasatch Back has been around for 9 years, and it is much more mature than the DC Ragnar.  By mature, I mean that it has well-established exchange points, routes, and even volunteers.  One exchange in particular (19) was brilliant.  At 3am, in the pitch dark of a crescent moon, we drove up a quiet, winding road to the summit of a mountain.  when we arrived, we encountered Exchange 19, complete with strobe lights, an exchange chute that looked like an airfield, and music cranked to volume 11.  A DJ was hollering encouragement to the runners and pumping up the crowd.  It was exactly what we all needed at 3am -- a reminder that we were in the middle of something epic.

My second leg was 7.5 miles, but it was entirely on a rails-to-trails path (flat & hard-packed gravel).  Alisha ran the first 10 miles of the gravel path along this beautiful lake as the sun was rising.

But apparently the scenery was not enough to outweigh the frigid temperature and distance.  10 miles is no joke, and Alisha signaled her displeasure.

Most of our teammates were snoozing peacefully in the van at this point, but Jeff was kind enough to bring the camera and snap a few photos of us at the exchange.

My 7.5 miles were rather uneventful, and I unfortunately did not have a beautiful lake to look at.  But I now know what the back of a dairy farm looks like.  I again felt the heaviness in my legs of running at altitude (this time at 5650-5850 feet), but I turned in a respectable time.  This is a photo of me "high-stepping" to the finish for dramatic effect.

After our van stopped at exchange 30, we snarfed down some pancakes & eggs and tried to get a little sleep.  The exchange was very noisy and busy, with hundreds of teams coming and going.  And it was beginning to get really hot at this point.  One thing I missed about Virginia was the trees.  We found the few little trees in the area and huddled around them like animals crowd water sources in the Savanna.

Here are the three Lacey brothers, swapping war stories.  Can you tell which one of us is the runt in the family?  Rod's team would finish well before ours, so this was unfortunately the only time we crossed paths on the course.

Alisha remembered earplugs and eye shades.  (If you ask nice enough, she'll probably give you an extra set.)

And here we are huddling around the dwindling shade in that blazing afternoon sun.  Did I mention it was hot?

This is a photo of "The Ragnar," Guardsman Pass in Wasatch State Park.  I believe the pass is the little zigzag at the center of the photo.  Alisha and I split the responsibility for 3241 feet of climbing over our last running assignments.

Alisha's leg started with a mile of rolling hills, then turned up.  And I mean straight, up. 

I had tried to envision just how steep this hill would be, but it was even more challenging than I had expected.  She blew by other teams, even when she had to stop periodically to walk. 

I'm afraid the photos just can't capture the grade, but this one comes pretty close.  We were thankful that the road was (a) not covered with 6 feet of fresh snow as in previous years, (b) paved for the first time ever, and (c) slightly shaded for the first several miles.

Alisha finished her portion strong, and we shared a kiss at the exchange.  Jeff hollered that it was our 11th anniversary that day, and the people at the exchange gave us a quick golf-clap.  Off to the races!

Holy mackerel, this hill was steep!  I committed myself to running the 4 miles, whatever it took.  I told myself repeatedly that "I can do anything for 4 miles."  At times, my run slowed to a sort of run-in-place because of the grade, but I kept my legs churning. 

I'm not built to be a very fast runner, but I've learned to handle the suffering that goes along with long-distance races.  The run is the final discipline in triathlon, and those who can ignore their bodies tend to do best in the run.  This quality helped me immensely on "The Ragnar."  I don't remember smiling, so this photo has obviously been photoshopped.

As I moved higher up the mountain, the air became lighter and the shade disappeared.  According to Joe Friel, at 8881 feet, I'm roughly 82.24% of myself, running a steeper hill than anything I've ever run before.  Did I mention it was HOT?  Every 3/4 mile or so, the team doused me with ice water and gave me a drink.  It took no more than 15 seconds before my body craved another drink.

Because most people were walking, there were many teams bunched up on the mountain.  I churned away, keeping track of the teams I passed.  At one point, a guy I passed asked me, "What's your secret?"  I responded, "I train at sea level ..."  (Yes, that's obnoxious, but what was I supposed to say?  I own a hyperbaric tent?)

Another guy cursed loudly when I passed him.  "You're the first person in this whole race to have passed me ..."  Sorry dude.  I'm awesome.  You should read my blog!

In the end, I was happy with the results.  (Here comes the ritual gloating ...)  Aside from the team's overall start and finish time, this is the only part of the race that is timed.  I came in a respectable 36th out of 751 teams in the "mixed" division, at 41:37.  When was the last time I was excited about an average pace of 10:24 min/mi?  What's more flattering is that ours was the only non-Utah team to rank in the top 60.

The obsessive-compulsive Eric got stuck at 29 "kills," or 29 teams passed over the 4-mile leg.  #30 was about 200 meters ahead of me when the exchange came into view, and although I did my best to catch him, the distance was just too far.  In my rush to give Jeff the baton (a slap bracelet), I didn't notice that he was trying to lean in for his own "anniversary kiss."  Note my instictive reaction. 

I think he was still laughing for the next hour about this.

This is Jeff running down the other side of the summit (center of photo).  My only regret is that I didn't have a bike to ride down this insane series of hairpin turns.

While we passed the sufferfest on to Jeff for the next hour, Alisha and I enjoyed the fruits of another epic anniversary.  This year we ran our guts out to the summit of a mountain.  (Recall that last year we biked our guts out on a different mountain -- Mont Ventoux in France.)  The view from the summit was incredible.  And the feeling of having accomplished another challenge with my best friend made it even better.  I'm lucky to know Alisha, and I've really enjoyed the 11 years we've been married.

The finish line was special because my parents and two of three siblings were all there.  (Speedy Rod's team was already showered and home in bed.)  I'm grateful that we are all in relatively good health, and that we can run together like this. 

And I'm grateful that I got to spend another fun anniversary with Alisha.  Any ideas for next year?