Why do something that hurts

So here I sit, sipping hot chocolate, after a very enjoyable last 26 hours.  In these last twenty six hours I went out to a karaoke bar with some friends, slept in a bit, took the majority of the day to catch up on little housework things like doing laundry, started building a new bookshelf, and spent several hours hanging out with my dad.  I had a wonderful conversation and I am now sitting here typing as I enjoy a mug of hot chocolate. 

By this time tomorrow I will have ground my way through an hour workout on the bike trainer, slung myself around the corners of a track at a six minute mile pace, and pounded out numerous sets of squats at 275 lbs.  In short, it’s going to hurt.  So why do it?

Athletics parallels life, and lessons learned from one can apply to the other.  Too often we are bogged down in life, going from one necessary task to another, to really learn anything from them.  The alarm clock rings, we dress, eat, brush our teeth, take a shower, maybe we get the kids ready for the school bus.  We work, take lunch, usually we fight the same crowd every day, and then we work some more.  We come home from work, take care of ourselves and possibly spouses and children, or we come home from school just to start on homework.  We eat, get ready for bed, and wake up the next day to do it all over again.  Rarely do any of us take the time to look back and learn something about ourselves from these experiences.  Rarely do we seek to improve.  Rarely do we feel it matters.

When you lace up your shoes to run, or pull on your helmet for a ride, or snap your goggles into place before your first lap, you take the first step into a different state of mind.  If you are pushing your body, in whatever manner, you are doing it because you have already decided that something matters.  Do you learn to run, then bike and swim, because you are a father who cares about his son like Dick and Rick Hoyt?  Did you realize that you had not gone for a walk with your spouse in years because that extra weight takes your breath away?  Do you want to open the door for others?  Is it for a healthier, happier tomorrow?  Is it now or never?

Whatever your reason, it matters enough that you are working, pushing yourself for it.  You finish a lap on the track and look at your watch; 2:34? 2:03? 1:35?  You dig deeper and give a little more of yourself because it matters.  You give and you get in return; in nothing else but sport do you have such complete control of your accomplishments. 

Then your day comes, and you might begin to wonder if you are ready.  Long ago you made two choices that have decided your fate.  First, you chose to make this sport matter.  Then, what is so special, is that you then truly acted like it mattered each and every day.  When you cross that finish line with a sense of pride, you hold your finisher’s medal and say to yourself “This is how strong I am, I can do anything, when it matters.”

You return to your daily life, you close that big deal at work and get this big smile on your face when your co-worker asks “So what if I wanted to try one of these triathlons?”  There seems to be a little more time in the day, maybe you get together with your friends and really laugh, you take the person you care about out for a date, or you pick your kid up from school.  Suddenly your daily routine begins to take on a purpose, you move through life with poise and determination; you remember that you cared.  Then you realize that you only glimpsed your potential, and that you really can do anything.  When you let it matter. 

See you tomorrow.

Why is this still a debate?

Okay, I was just flipping through my recent copy of Triathlete Magazine when I came across yet another point-counter point article on doping.  I figured I would weigh-in with my opinion on my own web site, where I have enough space to really exbound on my ideas.  I am thoroughly anti-doping, but I intend on making an argument based on sound ideas, not just emontion, so here goes.

First, a rehashing of what has already been said in favor of legalizing drug use: 

A lot of the “proponents of drug use in sport” say that the problem with drugs is not the drug itself, it is the tag of “illegal”.  They claim that the real problem is that these drugs (such as erythropoeitin, or anabolic steroids) are not regulated efficiently to prevent athlete deaths because they are illegal.  These drug proponents also say that it is the label of shame that is dropped on a sport when an athlete is caught/charged with using drugs (Barry Bonds for example, or more strikingly Lance Armstrong with Cycling).  The final argument is typically that athletes who wish to dope will always find a way to dope, regardless of testing.

First, drug proponents often use a “Regulation over Prohibition” argument, saying that it would be easier and safer to regulate a legal drug than an illegal drug.  Sudafed is legal, does that stop people from crushing it up and making methamphetamine?  No.  These athletes are abusing drugs when their use is illegal.  If you can convince yourself that winning is worth doing something illegal, do you think you would refrain from doing more of something legal to win?  It would be like telling a professional Ironman athlete they could only work out 30 hours a week or they will be disqualified.  Everybody who is abusing illegal EPO would continue to abuse legal EPO.  EPO deaths are not occuring from tainted drugs, they are happening from abuse, plain and simple.  Making it legal would only make it more available.  This is a thinly veiled attempt at making this argument sound like it has the athlete’s best interests at heart for health reasons.

 Second, the “Label of Shame” position states that it is not drugs themselves that ruin a sport, but the public scrutiny of those who use drugs.  Nobody ever told people to stop watching the Tour de France because of the Lance Armstrong/Floyd Landis doping controversy, our wondeful public illustrated their position on this argument very clearly.  They turned off Le Tour.  The general athletic public is of the opinion that performance enhancing drugs are a bane to sport, and they don’t want to watch drug-hyped athletes.  The “Label of Shame” exists not because these drugs are illegal, but because the public views their use as shameful.

The last typical argument is the “Impossible Fight” argument, where these drug-use proponents say that it is just too difficult, too costly, too time consuming to carry on with drug screening.  Cost may be prohibitive to some, but a basic drug screen costs about $20 per test, I was recently drug-tested for school as a requirement and I had to pay $18 for a laboratory to do my testing.  $30 catches more performance enhancing drugs, and if you want to go all-out you can test for nearly everything for $80 per test.  Initial positives are backed up with a confirmation test, which drives the cost up a bit, but only if you have a lot of dopers.  Say you run a local triathlon and you want to randomly test one of the top three finishers from the following divisions (Elite Male, Elite Female, M20-24, F20-24, M25-29, F25-29, M30-34, F30-34, M35-39, F35-39, M40-45, F40-45).  That is 12 tests, which costs between $240 and $960.  Assuming you have 400 contestants, this raises the entry fee per person by between $0.60 and $2.40.  Want to test all of the top three in those divisions? $1.80-$9.60.  If the race has 2,000 participants like many of the Ironman and 70.3 events the cost is hardly prohibitive to test these athletes.  I only picked the typically largest age groups, but you can see that the math works out.  What about how time consuming these tests are?  Not at all.  The athlete has to pee in a cup, big deal.  The organizers don’t have to wait for the results of the test to announce winners and hand out plaques or whatever.  If checks are involved, they will be mailed pending the results of the drug screening.  With everything being computerized nowadays it is easy to change the results of a race with a few clicks to move somebody to the DQ list.  Lastly, is it too difficult?  Sure, testing athletes for performance enhancing drugs is difficult, but last I checked so is completing a triathlon.  Should we give up because something is difficult?

Now I get to make a few points of my own.  Your reason for not using performance enhancing drugs should depend on your situation.  If you are a professional athlete, who makes a living off of your performance on one single day, you may be tempted to dope.  Your livelihood depends on your performance.  Do you want to risk your job?  Consider the ramifications of being caught.  From a monetary standpoint there is the fact that your winnings will be stripped for that race, and you will probably be banned from further competition.  Performance enhancing drugs take money out of the professional athlete’s pocket.  Also, if you are a professional or otherwise, consider the “Label of Shame”.  I have yet to see an athlete say, with squared shoulders and an upturned chin, “Yes, I am a doper, and proud of it!” 

What about the age grouper who just wants to stay healthy?  Doping should not even be on the radar for this athlete.  Doping is about as unhealthy as you can get.  Just check these links out for EPO, anabolic steroids, and amphetamines.  The end resultof abusing these drugs is death.

Lastly, an important argument that I have not seen made before in popular publication is relationship between success and other’s use of performance enhancing drugs.  I call this the ”Inspirational User”.  The Inspirational User may be a user for whatever reason; they may be a professional who races for money, they may be an average person who just wants to be faster than their friends so they can have a bit of admiration.  The problem is that we all inspire others, no matter how we perform.  The Inspirational User, like most users, has rationalized their drug abuse.  Sorry to those few athletes who may have been doped by trainers, most of the abusers knew and made some convoluted logic up to justify what they were doing.  The problem is when this Inspirational User convinces a friend, family member, co-worker, training partner or anyone else to do a sport.  They are the role model, and as such they are the gateway for others’ use of drugs.  The use of anabolic steroids in high school athletes is skyrocketing, and can the kids really be blamed when their successful role models are shown to be abusing performance enhancing drugs?

 Okay, that’s my soapbox.  Want some more light reading on doping?  Check here.

Off-season posts (or, Why I Have Not Updated My Blog)

My intrepid readers (both of them) have been demanding an update!  So, here goes.

I realized that I was really writing the blog to keep everybody up to date on what was going on.  First, it was just with racing, then I decided to put a little of my personal life into it, since it was getting a little repetitive.  I actually had close, personal friends admit to me that they enjoyed reading Gabe’s blog more than mine (of course, that could be because she has some wickedly awesome stories and is an english major who can write, imho, very well).  Unfotunately, I kinda try not to dish out too much of my personal life, so that didn’t work too well.  I just figured that the people who were really close to me would hear all my stories anyway, so I did not worry too much about updating.

Turns out, there are a few people that are really interested but I just can’t get in touch with often (sorry, I still like you all!), or when I can we talk about other things (hi bro!).  So here goes, this one is for you guys!

As always, three big things in my life: work, school, workout.  Work is wonderful, if you know me, you know where I work, and you know why.  If you know me well enough to have my phone number and don’t know where I work, you should probably call more!  Serously.  No, I’m kidding!  But really; call.  I have heard the horror stories about people’s bosses finding their blogs, I will not talk about my work on the inter-wubs.

School is, as always, kicking my butt!  I really just have one class which has me worried, and it is not really the material, but the grade.  The downside of having a good idea of what I want to do with my career is that it makes me have selective memory.  I am remembering the things that are going to be useful, but I am only really learning the rest for the test.  I don’t want to be that way, since it is all important, but there is just so much material I think it would be impossible to have any semblance of a normal life (or sanity) and truly remember it all.

Which leads to the rest of the post, the rest of my life.  Puppy has been doing great!  He is still cute, but now in a bit more of a dignified, dog kind of way.  Krieger has an interesting personality, too.  I will probably write a whole post on him soon.  The end of my triathlon season went well, I had a good race in Greenville, where the competition is always really stiff.  I went on to have a couple of really nasty races after that, though.  The Hartsville Olympic distance was the mentally toughest event I have raced yet; I went out and blew people away on the swim and bike but hit the wall hard halfway through the run.  I run-walked with cramps for the last three miles, getting dropped out of a top-three finish and feeling pretty down after running a 9:17 mile pace.  I hooked up with Anthony “The Beast” Buzetti for some long bike rides, threw a century out there, and then did something a little crazy.  I stopped riding outside, I focused on the trainer and riding hard.  I mean hard like riding my sprint pace for a solid hour, turning my biggest gear for like five minutes, just blasting my quads to kingdom come.

Then I had a solid improvement in Greenwood.  I swam and rode better than last year, and had enough left over, despite short training sessions, to run the whole half-marathon steadily.  I was actually having a lot of fun with these short, intense training sessions, so I kept them up for the next few weeks.

Then I had the race of my life thus far!  I went into the last race of the year secure in third place.  I was not moving up or down, guaranteed.  I wanted one thing, a great race, and I had one single chance to get it this year.  I swam like normal, passing people in the two waves ahead of me, then I got on the bike.  I rocketed past people on the steep hills and chased them down on the flats.  I stepped off the bike and across the timing mat to a 1:01:37 mile ride on that course for an average pace of 27.3 mph if their mileage is on.  I felt good and shoulder pressed the bike a few times in transition just to show off for Katie Malone!  Then I decided to run 6.2 miles in 51:14, an 8:16 mile pace!  I could go on and on describing how that race felt, but it really can’t be put into words.  Everything clicked.  I was laughing as I ran through the finish chute, it was great!  I got third in my age group that race, and third overall for the state age group.

I plan on writing some more soon, I have a lot of stuff to post on.  For now, I am in the middle of a workout; this was my break!

I am the Krieger!

For those of you really close to me, I may have seemed to be a bit bleary eyed the last few days.  Well, if you don’t already know why, this post will explain it.

 You see, there has been a new, small addition to my routine.  Well, small in one way, huge in another.  The addition is about five pounds and about a foot long, and is named Krieger.  Krieger is a long haired miniature Dachshund which I brought home with me just four days ago, and has had my rapt attention ever since!  He is absolutely adorable, as the pictures show, and is at this moment snoozing away on a pillow in my lap.  Krieger has been very good thus far, although I need to work on his whining and his potty training a good bit.  I will spare everyone the stories about puppy’s pooping habits, although I will say that is one of the primary topics of conversation these days!

Happy Birthday To Me!

I am now officially a quarter of a century old. I wonder if my femur has rings in it now?

Actually, July 12th was my birthday, but I have been so busy and behind on posts that this may not get posted until August 12th. I got to see family, eat out a lot, and all of the usual. To everyone who fed me: an enormous Thank You! To everyone who sent me money to help out with college tuition: I will be able to continue to eat next semester thanks to you! The most blog-worthy part of my birthday is just how special Caroline made my birthday, which is what I am going to write about!

First, it is pretty difficult to buy things for my birthday. Put simply, I am either too frugal or too poor to be able to afford to dream about what I want. So I often convince myself that I don’t really need things, and move on, forgetting about them by the time a birthday rolls around. Also, adding to the difficulty, was the fact that Caroline and I have only been dating a short while. The really amazing part was how well she did at picking out things for me. Caroline’s family has a tradition of having ‘birthday-weeks’. I really do like the idea, especially for kids, since you can spread things out a little and really enjoy them. She had six ideas, so there was one each day.

Tuesday she sent me a little teaser e-mail. It had a link to a flash animation which kept replaying a poem she had written. Now Caro is thoroughly supportive of my training and racing, and the Pee Dee race was that Saturday, so the opening line of the poem was: “What does a triathlete need, besides (of course) water, wheels, and speed?” The rest of the poem contained little hints as to what each day was going to hold. Some hints were generally easy, such as food and a massage after the race, but did not mention specifics such as where she was taking me to eat. Others were pretty difficult. ‘A challenge with a reward at the end’, ‘A little Kitchen Aide’, ‘and, of course, lots of water…for drinking’.

So the next day comes and she is prodding me for guesses about where we might be going out to eat. Eventually something clicks in my head and my first guess is “Yamato’s Steakhouse”. Her jaw just about drops. We had had a conversation about a month before, when we went to a Japanese Steakhouse with another group of friends, about where our favorite one was. She remembered which one I had said, although they had moved locations, and tracked them down and made reservations. It was just as good as I remembered it, if not better! Yamato is one of those places where the chefs prepare the food in front of you, they play the crowd and toss shrimp for you to catch in your mouth, etc. Our chef was absolutely hilarious; the other seven people at our table were celebrating an anniversary, and one woman had come without her husband so the chef kept making references to her coming just to see him, and calling her ’sweetheart’. A few laughs were had at Caroline’s and my expense as well, and a great time was had by all!

The next day was the challenge with a reward at the end. Of course this was impossible to guess. I picked Caroline up from work, and she told me she had to go run some errands and would be back shortly. She calls about a half-hour later and tells me she had forgot something on her errands, I thought she was going to tell me she would be late and not to wait up for dinner or something. Well, she asks if I would run get something for her, which sounded a little fishy, but I bite anyway and say ‘Sure, whatever I can do.’ Now, I was actually comfortably snuggled into the couch at this moment, but I knew something was up so I decided to play along. She tells me that she left something at Stronghold, in the climbing room, at the top of route #7, and asks if I would go retrieve it. Now I realize what the challenge was, and I have o smile because it is wonderful! The back story to this is that I used to be a pretty good rock climber for a few years, but have not been climbing in about two years. I took Caro up to Stronghold one time and she used that for setting up the birthday surprise. I grabbed my climbing shoes, which I still had around and still fit (or, I should say, don’t fit. Climbing shoes fit so tight that a day in them tends to turn your toenails black.) I head down to Stronghold and borrow a harness, take a good long look at the route (thinking, “Man, this really will be a challenge”) and try to find the ‘flow’ to the route and memorize any tricky sections and how to climb them before I get there. I tie in and the climb begins with the first moves being severe and steady, I can tell from looking at it that it will not let up for the next 50 feet. I click off move after move, glad that this is a route which is well suited to my style of climbing. I enjoy routes which have moves based on excruciatingly exact balance and weight transfers over very small hand and foot holds, where flexibility and precision are key. I climb away, hearing a group of girls below me, “He’s so tall, he can reach anything, it’s not fair!” I let the statement pass over me, not spoiling my concentration, and climb on. I reach the first crux, (crux= a particularly difficult section of moves along a route) it is not reachy, but rather it is a position where quick and precise hand placement is required to maintain balance. I steady myself and eye the exact point on the hold which will provide the necessary purchase to allow me to remain adhered to the wall. I look at it, and let my world narrow to just those two inches of plastic; then a flash, the sound of my hand slapping the wall and the hold, I feel the connection is right and I squeeze myself back in to the wall with a weightlifter-style grunt. A few moves more, then a particular move which requires I bring my left foot up very high, above my hip even. I rotate slightly to make the move less demanding, and walk my foot up the bare wall. Again I hear a comment from below, “He’s a guy, he’s not supposed to be able to do that!” This time I smile just a bit, I am a little more comfortable and can relax some. I carry on and near the top. Two moves from finishing is another crux move. It is unusual along this route, as it will require a burs of power to stick the reach. I press myself up, higher and higher, mantling over my right hand hold, tenuously gripping my left below my left shoulder and a foot out from my side I look at the hold. I know it is a good hold, but I know the amount of weight that will come down on that arm when I make the move. Even if I stick it precisely, I am not certain my out of shape arms have that much power, much less after having climbed a solidly difficult route. I inform my belayer that I may fall here, so he can be ready to lock off my rope and catch my fall. I look at it for a few more seconds, until I don’t think about falling anymore, until I just want to give it my very best effort. And I go. Toes standing on little nubs no larger than a AAA battery, left hand splayed out into the air for balance, right hand pinching a piece of plastic roughly the shape of a 2×4 laid flat against the wall. I feel my weight too far out, my hips too far off the wall, I had come further off balance than I wanted to and I was falling outward from the wall. There was no possibility of moving to a better position, just one way to remain on the wall: brute strength. Without time to think (that had all been done before the move, now I was just executing my plan) I yard on this hold with all my might, squeezing and pulling on a long-since untrained arm, now filled to the brim with lactic acid and screaming in searing white agony. No time to think also means no time to doubt. I lock off the arm, arresting the wrongful motion and rebounding back to the wall. I look up and finish the route with one more move before I can think about how tired I am. Then I see my prize: a letter taped to the wall. I call to the belayer who takes my weight on the rope and I tear down the letter. Back on the ground I take out the enclosed note: “Pack your bags! As soon as you finish your race, we’re headed for a weekend of wet n’ wild fun! So bring a swimsuit, sandals, and an old t-shirt.”

The next day was the Friday before the race. We did everything as usual, plus I went swimming with Caroline in the pond where the race was, which did wonders to stretch my back out after the car ride. It was pretty much just a normal pre-race day, until we stopped at Target for something for Caroline and she bought a few particular items which clued me in to what she had gotten me for today. I normally have a pineapple, orange juice, and banana smoothie which I am addicted to after big workouts, great for cooling down and rehydrating. Caro had gotten me a little travel blender where the blender containers are the actually drinking cups! We put it to use that night, and it actually crushes ice exceptionally well!

The next day was the race, then we came back home to get some stuff, and Caroline told me we had to stop by and pick up a friend of ours, Jonathan. I like Jonathan, so this was fine by me, but really piqued my curiosity about what was up. Caro directed me to begin driving up I-26, and eventually had to tell me directions and I realized we were headed to Cherokee, North Carolina. Putting two and two together, I realized we were going white water rafting, which she confirmed, but said there was more of a surprise still to come! I had not been white water rafting in a decade or so, so I was pretty excited! It turns out that Jonathan is a bit of a gambler (and pretty good too, he usually ends up breaking even and often has a significant winning streak for a while) and had gotten a free hotel room which he decided he would donate to us while he was at the Casino. It was really awesome of him to do that, and I need to write a thank-you note or something still. That night Caro gave me a massage, and was quite adamant about me telling her precisely where hurt most. It went something like this “It is tighter around the IT band area.” “Where?!” “Um, the outside of my thigh.” “Oh, gotcha.”

The next day were up early and going. After a continental breakfast at the hotel we began our wonderful day. Now, I had been up in this area before while hiking along the Appalachian Trail a few years ago, and I knew the NOC (Nantahala Outdoor Center) was one of the biggest rafting places around, but Caroline was giving me directions to some place else. “OK,” I thought to myself “she probably found a great deal, just like with the hotel room, since we are both still students.” Well we get to this small, beautiful, mountain town where she has me park the car. We then walk over and Caro picks up our tickets for a train ride! A few weeks before this we had had a conversation about trains and I had mentioned that I had never ridden on a train before. So we board the train and get rolling. I am just watching everything pass by, which is an interesting feeling. It really is not like riding in a car at all, since there are no turns, you are doing no work at all, you can walk around and do whatever you want. It is just very difficult to describe the sensation if you have never been on a train before. The train conductor gives us some information about the historic and beautiful sites we are passing, and after about two hours we arrive at our destination, the Nantahala Outdoor Center! There we get our life vests, a safety briefing, and a bus ride up to our put-in where we meet our guides for the trip. The Nantahala is a dam fed river, and the water comes off the bottom of the lake, so it averages 45-55 degrees (Fahrenheit) all year, so when we hit rapids and got splashed it was a very chilling experience!

We put in well upstream from the major rapids, so we would have a little time to learn the ropes before getting started.  We did a little bit of work learning how to paddle smoothly and evenly together, all six of us in the boat.  Down the river a short ways we were put to our first test as we encountered a rock which must be missed, seeing how it is rather tooth shaped, that has earned the nickname “Jaws”.  We got into some flat water and floated along, enjoying the scenery, and building up to taking on more and more difficult rapids.  Our guide called out when to row on which side, keeping us moving in the right direction.  I was having a great time observing how he brought us down the river, which parts of the current we were supposed to be in and which parts we were trying to avoid, which rapids we got set up for and how.  Our guide informed us about one rapid which was taken in a very unique manner, by bouncing the raft off of the first rock as hard as possible to set up for the next rapid.  The rock you bounce off of is shaped a bit like a ramp, so you slide up and back down it, and we managed to get about 1/3 of the boat out of the water and up onto the rock!  The first dozen or so rapids we approached pretty loosely, without a whole lot of preparation.  Then we started to hit rapids where our guide would  explain what we were going to do, how we would position the boat to catch the current just right and which side of the rapids we had to be on to avoid unseen rocks.  The last three rapids in particular required the most prep work, with Nantahala Falls, a category 3 rapid, to finish the ride off.  We passed through ‘Little Z’ and then got set up for our first category 3 rapid, our guide said we were set up perfectly.  We made the first drop, then started picking up speed through the following series of drops.  The guide called for us to paddle and with just a few strokes we were through the last of the rapid.  We were settling down in some quick moving but calm water, and the guide had just finished saying that we may have just had the cleanest run through Nantahala Falls with a newbie crew he had ever been with, when we hit a rock!  I was on the left side of the boat, and we were cruising downstream sideways, when the right rear of the boat caught on a rock.  The force of the water lifted my side of the boat up, tossing the two back left occupants off of their seats.  Now, the far back left was the guide, and just in front of him was Caroline, so imagine my situation here: I am still securely attached to the raft, I see Caroline’s back with her arms reaching out precariously overbalanced and hanging on by having her feet tucked under a portion of the raft, and I see the guide on his side with one leg tucked under the raft as his only means of remaining secured and the other waving around in the air saying “someone pull me back in the boat.”  Who would you grab?  One one hand is the girlfriend, on the other is the guy that can assuredly get you to safety.  I decided quickly that if I did not grab Caroline, the next month of my life (or more) would probably be unbearable, so I would rather risk getting to shore without the guide than going home with a soaked and freezing Caro!  I grabbed Caroline by the vest and yanked her back into the boat, then realized that the guide was still in his strange predicament, on his side with one leg tucked and one waving around, so I grabbed the flailing foot and sort of slid him back to a more balanced place on the raft.  We all had a quick laugh, then paddled our way up to shore at the pull out.

The day, the weekend, and the week of my birthday were pretty much over.   I was rather exhausted, so we headed back into Cherokee and picked up Jonathan, who had again managed to mostly break even, and headed back home.  We detoured through Greenville for dinner with my mother, then back to Columbia where the final great gift was coming.  That’s right, I went to sleep.

Tri the Pee Dee Race Report

Last weekend, July 14th specifically, was the Tri the Pee Dee sprint race just outside of Florence, SC.  It is a neat little race to do for fun, but it is certainly one that I will not try to really compete in next year.  It is held at Emerald Lake, which is a tiny ski pond just west of Florence.  The lake is very shallow, being about fifteen feet at it’s deepest, and the deepest part along the swim course is only about seven feet.  With that in mind, and the fact that the race occurs in the middle of the summer, the water temps are quite comfortable!  The lake actually has a very blue-green appearance, and the day before the race Caroline and I went for quick swim, which was great for getting the kinks out from driving.  The bike course is pretty much pancake flat, really you could sit on your trainer for an hour and get a perfect workout to do this race.  The bike course does have one unique aspect, however: the first and last mile are on dirt road.  They had it scraped just before the race, so a lot of the loose stuff was pushed off to the side, but that only helped the first few bikes through.  By the time I got onto the bike course (not too far behind everybody) there were loose sand ruts where the narrow bicycle tires had gouged through the sand.  It actually forced me off my bike one time, and I actually passed two people while running my bike along the sand!  The run is certainly the place to make up time on this course, as it is a three loop course which runs along the perimeter of the lake.  This made the race very enjoyable for spectators, which was good since it was Caroline’s first time going to a race with me.

I had a good swim, doing the 700 meters in 12:55, which is an acceptable pace for me.  I had been avoiding the pool for a while before this race as my back had been bothering me a bit.  It still irritates me some, just inside my right shoulder blade, and I can’t figure out what is causing it.  Fortunately it seems that swimming does NOT cause this pain, as I have been doing some consistent pool swims since the race with no ill effects.  I got out of the water and then had a really slow T1, spending 1:47 getting the big stuff knocked off my feet to avoid blisters and getting all of my gear on.  I swear I don’t wear that much!

The bike was, of course, horrible for the first mile.  I turned my computer on after the first half-mile, which was the worst section, and for the paved portion I averaged about 22 mph.  Including the dirt, however, brought my average pace down to 19.4 mph for a total time of 47:53 for the 15 mile bike.  All through the course I was riding up to people who had dirt and road rash down their sides where they had fallen on the dirt portion of the road.  I did not fall, but it took me a bit to get my head back into racing before I started really hammering again, I can only imagine how much falling must mess with your mental focus.  A friend actually had to lay his bike down to avoid running over a girl who fell right in front of him, and he ended up losing a chunk of skin out of his achilles area.  Somebody should tell Jeromy that that first mile is a dirt road.  Next year, I am bringing the mountain bike, lol!  No, seriously.

T2 took me 1:00 flat, which is about my average.  Actually both of my transitions were about my average, which I am fine with for now.  I have other places that I can make up much more than the minute and a half I lose in transition.  I came out of the run flying, ready to make up some time.  I heard that my friend Anthony was just finishing his first lap when I came out of the TA and he tried to catch up to run with me, but I was in full burst mode and he could not catch up!  My first mile was a 6:30, then I held about a 7 minute pace after that for a total time of 21:28 in the 3.1 mile run.  The average mile pace was a 6:55.

Total time was 1:25:00, which was enough for third place in my age group at this event!  It was nice to get to stand up on the podium, finally!  I know that a lot of the really stiff competition was not there, given the nature of this race, but it was definitely a confidence boost to place in the top three.  I feel really solid in my run, although I am looking forward to doing some run specific training this winter.  I cut more than a minute per mile off of my time over last winter, and had the injury which slowed me down a little.  I would love to chop my sprint run time down to under a 6 minute mile, my olympic time down to a 7 minute mile, and my half iron down to an 8 minute mile.  That would be pulling one minute per mile off of each average over this year.  If I could do that, my sprint run would be on par with the top runners, my olympic run would be 1 minute per mile short, and my half-iron would be just less than two minutes from the top runners at last year’s event.  I have not yet run a 6 minute mile, but I feel that I could.

Forty seven years later….

I spend most of my training time on Fort Jackson.  It’s a great place to bike, and if you are really creative you can get fifty miles in without a whole lot of doubling back.  It is always inspirational to be on a long ride and pass the troops training with the jousting poles, or on the rifle range, or getting way out in the back of the fort and hearing the artillery fire and watching the tank range.

There is also a pretty inspirational hill, where the new recruits are sent to run for discipline or fun.  From the bottom of Tank Hill to Hilton Field is a mile and a half in one direction, so running it as a loop is three miles.  A full mile of that is sustained and fairly difficult hill.  Of course, this is also where many of the barracks are located, just to provide easy access to the hill.

Forty seven years ago, in June of 1960, my father finished basic training at Fort Jackson.  He came to the base unable to run this hill; by the time he had finished in June, Tank Hill posed no problem.  It is a very visual reminder that, with effort and determination, anything, no matter how impossible it may seem, can be achieved.

Even forty seven years later.  3 Miles of Tank Hill in 48 minutes.  Proud of you Dad!

Activity Partner

So, I was out of town this past weekend with Caroline. We went up to Table Rock state park where we camped then hiked the 3.5 miles up to the overlook and back.

We have been doing quite a bit together recently, and I must say it has been a learning experience. Generally, whatever one of us has always wanted to do, the other has done. I want to see another country, she’s been to most of them. She wants to learn to sail, I’ve done it. So exploring each other’s interests and pursuing them further has been quite enjoyable, and has produced a couple of interesting stories to tell.

One day we were upstairs in the small gym which is on the ’spa level’ of my apartment building. Caroline had tagged along while I worked on my physical therapy workouts to keep everything nicely in shape. I was showing her the workouts that I do for the hip injury and she was learning and copying them. We were just working out when three other residents came up. First they turned on the sauna, then started killing some time while it warmed up. They were obviously foreign, and the language sounded Slavic in origin.

Now imagine how this looked. Three 20-something year olds, two girls and a guy, wander into a gym and turn on the sauna. They proceed to workout in a very playful manner, laughing and joking in a distinctly foreign language. Then they pull their clothes off down to their swim suits and step into the sauna.

Caroline looks over at me and says, “Does that look like the start of a bad porn movie to you?” This cracks me up and makes me loose count of what rep I am on, but things get even better! We finish the workout and Caroline looks at me and informs me that “we have done something you like to do, now we will try something I like to do.” After an comment about the inappropriateness of the location, Caroline starts teaching me how to dance. We were going over the basic steps of the Waltz when the young man comes out of the sauna and asks, in a thick accent, “Excuse me, but are you two dancers?” We explain that we are just having fun and that neither of us are good dancers, and he says “I was a professional dancer in Russia, and was wondering if you might know of any place which hosts ballroom dances.”

We chat a bit about it, and are ultimately unable to be of any help, but promise to let him know if we do find a place. About this time he realizes that he is standing there in his speedo and seems to get a little bit self conscious as he wraps up in a towel and excuses himself. Shortly after we have nearly the exact same conversation with the two girls who were there, at least one of whom was the young man’s sister.

We have told this story many times over, as it was quite the uniquely unexpected discovery after the initial impression.

Last weekend, however, was pretty much just fun. We camped out friday night, which was quite miserable since the heat and humidity combined for a ‘don’t touch me, you’re too warm’ night! The next morning we met a guy who was from Chapin, just up the road from Columbia, and was cycling all the way up to Virginia. We talked a bit about bike riding and planning multi-day cycling trips, since I have been wanting to do one for a while. We also talked a bit about climbing, as he was originally from New York and had done a lot of climbing at the Shawangunks up there, which is a pretty famous place.

That day was pretty warm for a good bit, but as we climbed the mountain the approaching storm fronts were cooling things quite a bit. When we reached the summit, 2,000 feet above where we started, we relaxed and watched a thunderstorm build up, let loose it’s fury, and then diminish over Greenville; all while sharing peanut butter and banana sandwiches on oat bran pitas. We relaxed and talked a bit with another group, a father and his three sons (ages 2, 3 and a half, and 5 and a half). They were from nearby Easley, and could actually see where their home was (the nearby water tower was the closest visible landmark). Caroline and I had stopped at a roadside stand and bought some peaches on the drive up, and we shared these with the other group, which the kids seemed to really enjoy.

Eventually we hiked back down, and who should we meet but Zachary Sutton, fellow age-grouper! Of all the places to be, at all the times, we were all out enjoying that particular park! We laughed and joked about getting ready for all the rough hill climbs the course in Florence will have (it’s gonna be pancake flat), and parted with a “See you in two weeks!”

We got back to the car, drove into Greenville and met my mother for dinner, which we both consumed quite heartily after a full day on the trail. Now here I sit the next day, at nine o’clock, tired and ready to call it a night! Nothing gets my day back on schedule like hiking!

I also will be going for a nice long bike ride one of these days with my friend Anthony, who I wrote about in one of my latest entries, so that will be quite fun!

The Festival of Flowers Race Report

Ok, it has been a while since I have sat down to write up a race report.  Back in the day (a few weeks ago) I travelled a long, long way (an hour and a half up the road) to a distant land (Greenwood) to embark on a great adventure (I had a race).

The Festival of Flowers is an Olympic distance event hosted every year at lake Greenwood, and it is a USAT National Qualifier.  I was really looking forward to the opportunity to see how I would fare in a race that was going to draw some of the strongest competitors around.  I had raced on part of the course before, during the SC Half Iron which is held at the same location, and it is a bit more hilly than the course at Langley Pond.  I figured that if I was doing well I could break 2:30 this time around, so I made that my goal.  I was shooting for a 27 minute swim (no wetsuits allowed), giving myself three minutes on the transitions, 1:10 on the bike, and a 50 minute run.

My dad and I rode the course the day before, and biked the run portion together.  By the way, anybody visiting Greenwood for one of the two races should really look at staying at the Hampton Inn, they usually get the staff in early to set up and open the breakfast area!  The bike course has just a few light hills, they are sustained effort without a significant downhill afterwards, so it is really a course of consistency.  I planned on pushing just a bit harder on the uphills, but could not really hammer on them or else I would have nothing for the flats!  The run was a simple, one-loop 10k with the same properties; consistent but not difficult climbs that really just meant you were running a sustained effort.

Race morning brought a lot of early morning wind, which was stirring the water up and making for a significant amount of chop.  Now, I am a strong swimmer, but I can really say that I would rather have a current than chop.  The current just slows you down or makes you change course, the chop is constantly in your face making you miss breaths, and as a result altering your stroke and body position as you try to get your head farther out of the water for a clean breath.  The first leg of the race was also going to be right into the morning sun, which was beaming quite nicely into our eyes, made me glad for the tint on my swim goggles.

Race start went quite well, although there were one or two people who seemed insistent on swimming in total body contact.  I have never had anybody so insistently try to swim in exactly my space (not just the same line, but exactly my space) for fifty or more meters, it was like playing bumper cars with the little kids who don’t ram you but just kind of push and rub, making both of you go slower.  I just kept swimming my line, when I could see the bouys through the sun, and eventually he fell off behind me.  I would like to say that was due to pace, but more likely it was because he eventually put his head in my right arm pit and caught a solid elbow, which I think just hit the top of his head more than anything sensitive like a nose or goggles.

The swim was pretty rough, and apparrently most people were complaining about the conditions.  Actually, a lot of people were saying that they had a bad race, which probably stemmed from having to expend a lot of energy on the swim.  I ended up choosing a wide right line for the second leg, letting the current push me into the bouy. and finished the swim in 29:50.  While that was behind what I was anticipating, I knew I had posted a relatively good swim for the day.

Within the first mile of the bike I saw my friend Anthony Buzetti walking his bike back.  He is recovering from a hip injury just like mine that has severely limited his running, but he has been making up for it by hammering on the bike.  Today Anthony was racing as part of a relay team, and his swimmer had finished ahead of me.  I stopped to offer him a spare tube, but he was using tubulars instead of clinchers and there was nothing that could be done.  He told me that he thought his day was probably over and sent me off with a, as is typical of Anthony, very sincere “have a great race”.  So I started biting into the ride, determined to have that great race.  Severe and steady for 24 miles, I did not feel like I had all the power in my legs I would like, but I was in a solid place to keep working at the pace.  I averaged 21.5 mph for the ride, finishing in 1:07:04.

Out on the run I had to smile inwardly a bit, as experience had shown me that the first mile is a long uphill which appears to be rather flat and I could tell others were struggling to run their goal paces and were close to overload.  Nearing the two mile mark I heard a familiar voice shouting a “Way to go Cameron!”  I looked to my left real quick and who do I see riding by but Anthony, back in the race and smiling!  I did not know what had happened at that point, but I was glad to see him getting to enjoy his day, and that provided a nice boost to the mind with four miles left.  The rest of the run clicked by smoothly, again without a feeling of deep power in my legs that I would have liked to have had, but steady.  I finished the run in 49:02 for a total time of 2:28:12.  I met my goal, and had a solid race, finishing just 5:17 from qualifying for Nationals.

As for Anthony, get this: Shortly after I saw him, a race official rode up and learned of his dilemma.  The official said he could help out as long as he did not actually progress Anthony any further along the course.  So he got a lift back to the TA for his keys, then to his car to get his spare set of wheels for training (look real close in the photo), then swapped over his rear wheel, and finally got back to the point where he had gotten the flat.  He lost 22 minutes, and if you were to subtract that from his actual time would put him around the 55 minute mark, putting Anthony’s pace around 26 mph!

The less I have to do, the more I want to do

Have you ever noticed that when you have less stuff to do, you actually end up getting more done?  I mean really, when I don’t have school work to do I get all the little projects done around the house that have been bugging me for the last eight months, and then end up having time left over.  If I didn’t use this time for working out, I would totally be into some sort of cause.  Oh wait, just checked my blogroll, I already have a cause!

Between school work and trying to combine all my errands into one trip the other day, I noticed that the price of gas has dropped recently.  Every time this happens my rear end starts to pucker, and I’ll tell you why.  It is just the oil company’s way of taking a deep breath in to blow out all of our candles before they dig into the birthday cake that is your (and, more importantly to me, my) wallet.  Too many times recently has the cost of a gallon gone down ten cents only to rocket back up a quarter next week.

Furthermore, here’s another disgusting concept.  The only time this country (as a whole, I will get to this later) begins to do anything remotely resembling a good thing for the planet is when gasoline starts to actually burn a hole in our wallets.  The use of hybrid cars jumped drastically when gas prices started to reach the ionosphere.  But really, was the development of these hybrids not actually fueled by the rising gas prices themselves?  I doubt that it was a completely selfless act; after all, the manufacturers with the best hybrids are carving out a nice little market share.  Don’t think the country’s motivation is purely economical?  Two words: “Kyoto Accord” – look it up.

Found it yet?  You won’t find it in US policy, since we didn’t adopt it.  We are the only developed nation which attended the coucil on global climate change in Kyoto and refused to sign the Accord.  By the way, did I mention that we are also, by far, the number one carbon emission producing country per capita in the world?  In english that means that nobody in the world pollutes more than the American citizen.  Now, I really don’t mean to hit everybody, because it’s really not everybody’s fault.  Okay, actually it is, but there are a few people who are in a perfect position to change things but won’t.  First off, let’s talk about automobiles.  Sure the new hybrids are cutting our use of gas by about 40%, but only for the people who actually buy one!  Hybrids make up a small amount of the automotive populus, but everybody who lives in a house with electricity could make a huge difference if one thing were to happen.  Here is a big hot topic when it comes to the environment: Alternative Energy.  If a few big companies (the power conglomerates) were to drop one significant chunk of change on some hydroelectric dams then everybody who they serve would be running their day to day activities nearly emission free.  Sure it would be an expense up front, but they would save money in the long run by not having to buy oil to burn for electricity!

Now, I assumed at the start of this that you knew why stopping global warming is important.  If not, read the links.

Of course, we live in a world where the fat cats lay off good people because they don’t want to pay an employee’s salary while they go cruising around the world on their new yacht for two years. 

Ok, now I am done ranting.

See, the less I have to do, the more I want to take on some new project.  Oh yeah, and things are going well otherwise.