Aim Small

Following up the last post about pointing in the right direction, I can also share that I'm going to have a much narrower focus this year -- at least, as far as my athletic goals are concerned. IM is big, way too big, for me to comprehend any time soon.

Actually, truth be told, I have a pretty narrow focus about anything that matters to me. For example, I have a very specific financial objective, and (almost) everything I do supports that. What's nice is that, even if I blow it, I'll still be way ahead of the curve. I'm following the saying, regrettably popularized by Mel Gibson in "The Patriot," "Aim small, miss small." Logically, the second part follows, "Aim big, miss big."

As in just about everything I do well, the only way it's going to work is with a narrow focus. Anything that falls outside my goals is extraneous.

So, as far as sports go this year, I'm going to be going after one event, and it's a little event at that. Everything else is either a building block to that little (but important to me) event, or it means I got off track.

Obfuscation

I'm still not going to say exactly where I'm going athletics-wise, but I'll point in the general direction... that way (man, I am so funny).

Over the last year I've read a bunch of books about endurance sports training. Interestingly, two of them (Swim Coaching Bible and Daniels' Running Formula) focus on training youth athletes. The important message was not to start with too much -- volume, intensity, specificity, etc.

I have this buddy who, seemingly on a whim, ramped up from zero to marathon training a little over a year ago. He's also got an ongoing, consistent string of injuries.

My take away here is that actual age doesn't reflect "athletic age" (I didn't make that term up, I swear -- sports scientists much smarter than me have been using it for years). The problem with so many "non-youth" athletes that start as masters or return to sports after a long lay-off is that they want to go after the big events (marathons, Ironman tris, century bike rides), despite being effectively "infants." Jumping straight into marathon training works for a lot of people, I'm not going to deny that -- and if it makes them happy, that's great. But if you're constantly injured, I'd wager your body isn't ready for the training stress.

So what does that say about me? I've been pretty lucky over the years, injury wise. A likely reason is my athletic age is probably pretty close to my actual age -- I've been swimming, or rowing, most of my life.

That said, I do have some recurring injuries related to my achilles, likely because my "impact sports" athletic age has me still in diapers. Those problems have only come about since I've been training for the long stuff, so, the direction I'm pointing right now --> no long stuff until I get this worked out.

Listen to me

...Unless you're faster than me, in which case, I have nothing of value to offer you.

...But if you're faster than me, and injured, there be a small bit of value in what I'm saying.

...If you're slower than me, you might only be slower because you listen to too many people. Stop reading so many magazines and ignore the forums. You should add "don't listen to me" to that list as well (other than following the advice in my previous sentence).

...If you're slower than me, and injured, man... that just sucks. Go see a doctor. Don't worry about an ironman; worry about being able to walk when you're 50. Then worry about running a 5k without getting injured again.

...If you're about my speed, listen to everything I say: read all the magazines, follow every piece of advice on the internet forums, ignore your doctors and spend as much time as possible researching and then purchasing the best gear imaginable (like this or this).

My brother and his friends

So, JNM, the most artistically talented of my brothers, has gotten himself connected with a whole crew of folks just as creative, and just as car-azy as him. I don't think he even needed the interwebs to find them, they just all gravitated towards each other.

He's part of a new show, that, even if it just turns out to be a gimic, should prove to be wildly entertaining. I fully expect it to be awesome and not gimic-ey.


The title alone is clever enough to warrant a viewing. Go see it.

On the off chance someone my brother doesn't know is reading this blog and doesn't already know where to buy tickets, click here.

I'm not a beach person

I've confirmed that I am not a "beach vacation" kind of guy. I think it has something to do with the idea of paying money to sit around that doesn't appeal to me (clearly, I'd rather pay money to get all lycra-ed up and run around in a circle).

We did have a good time in St. Thomas overall though. The best days were spent snorkeling or hiking (in St. John).

The day we went hiking was probably my favorite, despite it being a little frustrating. Because of our less-than-attentive bus driver, we didn't stop at the trailhead we were supposed to, and instead hiked a significantly more challenging -- and significantly less traveled/marked -- trail to join back up with the originally planned trail. We got a little lost, got a lot hot and got even more sweaty. I had a blast, but I think Hannah was a bit cranky. It didn't help that she was dealing with the ridiculous sunburn she received the day before.

The snorkeling was really cool too. Aside from one incident where I almost swam into a jellyfish, we didn't see any big or scary sea life, just lots of smaller, happy (I'm assuming) fish that were content to let you swim around with them.

We encountered some other wildlife, none considerate enough to pose for photos. So you get some of the dregs from the digital camera:


Wacky albino crab (not its technical name)


Attack of the lazy iguanas. These guys were all on the cliff outside the condo we stayed in. Easily a couple dozen.

How the weekend went

So I'm back from Texas (well, three days ago anyway).

Hannah and I ran in a 5k hosted by the local running club, proceeds went to Habitat for Humanity.

Interesting occurrences:
-I think about 50 people ran. That might be the smallest event I've ever competed in. I did not come close to winning.

-Hannah came in third woman overall.

-The entry fee was $10 each. Hannah had mailed the check and entry forms in a week or so earlier, yet they didn't have us registered on race day. The organizer said it was probably because nobody bothered to check the mailbox in the past week. So they took us at our word and let us race. We'll see if that check ever clears.

-As I mentioned, total entry fees for us were $20. They gave out door prizes after the awards. Between us, we won two free dinners at a local Mexican restaurant, plus $10 off at another restaurant. So, somehow, we came out ahead in all this (especially if they never cash that check!).

So, the upshot is we plan to race in more tiny Texas races, as odds are we'll probably end up breaking even.

San Angelos Number Two

I'm heading down to see Hannah again tonight (well, tomorrow. Tonight I fly to Dallas). Maybe this time I'll take a picture or two. Maybe.

We're both signed up for a local 5k. Then Hannah's going to wrestle a longhorn. She's preparing for when the rodeo comes through, in hopes they'll offer her a job. None of this corporate stuff anymore. I'm planning to apply to drive the rodeo clown car.

...wait, what? ...They have cars!

Confirming what I know

This WAS likely going to be my greatest post ever, but, as luck would have it, when I pressed "save," Blogger actually interpreted that to mean "don't save... and in fact, delete what you saved the last time you pressed 'save'... no, wait, on second thought, make that delete everything but your first sentence."

So you only get my frustrated second attempt, which means shorter and less amusing.

--------
The Skylands Sprint went about as good as could be expected. Some observations:
-People don't know how to swim straight (or I don't, but I'm people, so my statement still counts).
-Northwestern NJ is really hilly. I think the bike course had 50,000 ft. of vertical gain... at once. Some people were walking their bikes up one of the hills. I did not, but I was in danger of falling over at one point.

This race confirmed what I've known for a while: I can't compete on athletic talent alone, since I don't have any talent. My only shot at being competitive is to be at the peak of my fitness.

A comparison: I was racked next to a guy who was also at Ironman Lake Placid. He too hadn't done anything since that race. Before the race, we joked that this might be an unpleasant day.

He came in second in our age group (just outside of first), and somewhere in top 25 overall. My best possible placing on the day was likely to be third in the AG. Ultimately, I was racing for fourth. I finished fifth and 101st overall.

So there you go.

Idiocy or just plain old stupidity?

On a whim, I signed up for the Skylands Sprint Triathlon last night. The race is this Sunday in Clinton, NJ (about 45 minutes away).

I was stuck between dropping into one of many (relatively) local 5ks or signing up for this tri. I was leaning to the 5k option, using the logic of, "there's something to be said for just showing up in shorts and a t-shirt and not having to lug all the extra crap."

Interestingly, Hannah had an opposing opinion: "You can do a 5k almost any time. There's not many triathons you can just sign up for a few days out." Coupled with the fact that this would be the first time I could sleep in my own bed before a multisport event, the tri won out.

Now, of course, I haven't really done anything since Lake Placid. The majority of my activity has been the 40 minute roundtrip walk to/from the train station every day. My bike still has my IMLP race number on it. My wetsuit is still rolled up in a ball in the garbage bag I threw it in for the drive home from the Adirondacks. My race water bottles are on the bike frame and still have the leftover drink mix from July 22 (oh, I kid... I washed them out this morning).

So, I'm not sure if I'm an idiot for signing up for this, or just mildly stupid. One thing I'm sure of is that I'll have fun. Hey, worst case, I'm confident I can walk the 5k.

Where am I going?

I've been reading a lot about aging in general and aging athletes. I haven't necessarily sought the content out, it just seems to be everywhere today.

Maybe it's because of all these people getting old. I'm sure it ties into every financial services company aggressively going after the Baby Boomers.

In any event, I've been thinking about both my long-term athletic goals and my long-term health. I've pretty much decided on that athletic goal, but I'll keep that to myself for awhile (even more to myself than this blog anyway). I can say that my long-term health is tied into the goal, or, rather, the goal is tied into my long-term health (oooh... lame crypticosity).

A lot of people I know are hobbling around on worn down body parts (and some of these people aren't that old). I'm going to try to avoid that as best I can. I've got a few of my own niggling physical problems to deal with and I'll be addressing those immediately (I actually started a few weeks back).

Tomorrow I do my first Maximum Aerobic Pace (MAP) run test. The plan is start from zero and raise fitness over the next plentysix months. At some point I'll share where I'm going with all this.

Ironman Lake Placid - Part 3: The Sequel ...to Part II

I had two objectives by changing into running gear:
1) Have nice, new, ungrossified clothes to put on.
2) Give myself something to focus on (changing), so that I could get in and out of the change tent and not get stuck to the nice, comfortable, hard plastic, folding chair.

That plan worked on both fronts, so I was quickly off on the run.

...or rather, off on the walk. My marathon "race" plan was actually to run 10 minutes and power walk 45 seconds, starting with a walk to get myself used to moving again. Naturally, all the spectators were yelling at me to go (since it was just the start of the marathon), but I smiled and waved and stuck with my walk. A few minutes into my first run, I passed everyone that I had left transition with, never to see them again.

My little run/walk strategy worked great. I stuck to it except for a few aid stations and the last two hills back into town. Very few people passed me, but I got to get through a bunch of people, some of whom I'm sure where annoyed that I'd run past them, then they'd pass me when I walked, then I'd pass them back when I ran again.

I had a nice conversation with one of the pass/repassers about my awesome ugly shoes (Vitruvian Running -- $60!). Exchanged stupid jokes with other runners, none of which were funny, but we all politely laughed. That's mostly what I remember.

I never hit "the wall;" I just gradually slowed down (10-minute miles on the first loop, 11-minute miles on the second). Mostly that's a result of my (lacking) run fitness. However, I maximized the fitness I had and ran to my full potential (on the day).

Moving through lap two (somewhere around mile 15). Luckily this is a downhill, so I still look like I'm moving at a decent clip.



Coming in to the finish. Hey, did you know that Ironman is sponsored by Ford?

No, really, I'm serious.

I swear, it really is. I guess you'll just have to take my word for it.


So, that's that. I executed the race exactly as I had hoped, and came up with an almost 40-minute PR, almost all of which occured on the run. You can't ask for a much better day than that.

Here's my support entourage/family post-race (minus Robin and Bob). It was great to have everyone there.

Well, at least JNM looks good. And maybe my dad.

Ironman Lake Placid -- Part II: This Time It's Impersonal

I don't have too much to say about the bike section. It's long. It's hard. It's quite scenic. A lot of people think they're faster than they really are.

I had traveled to LP in early June to ride the course and got myself walloped. After that experience, my entire goal was to train to ride conservatively and set myself up for the marathon. So, it was all business (slow, slow business). I executed my (slow) race plan flawlessly, so flawlessly (slow) in fact that I rode within 11 seconds of my (slow) Wisconsin bike time from '05 (that's a 6:57 for those of you keeping track).

While you might think I was slow, I was happy with my overall bike performance. The only low point was into a wicked headwind on the downhill and flattest parts of the course (naturally). I typically don't do well in headwinds, and this was no exception. Here's me trying to be as aero as possible and hoping the headwind will be a tailwind on the climb back to town (try not to be blinded by the pasty white skin).



Well, I don't know if there was a tailwind into town or not, but clearly I paced myself well, because I rode the back climb only three minutes slower than the first lap. It was probably the first time in any triathlon I've done where I passed a bunch of people on the bike. Of course, none of us were moving that fast, but it was nice to be the demoralizer instead of the demoralizee for once.

T2 was a complete wardrobe change -- new shorts, shirt and socks. I kept telling the volunteer in the change tent that I was going to change everything and that, while appreciated, I didn't need his help, but he seemed intent on helping me put on my race belt. It wasn't until I dropped trou that he realized he might want to back off a little. Awkward.

Then I got glopped with sunscreen by another helpful volunteer (who I did not get nude for) and I was off on the run.

Ironman Lake Placid - Part: the First

Finally, the moment all (none) of you have been waiting for... my IMLP race recap!

I drove up to Lake Placid the Thursday before the race. Had I been thinking, I would have taken pictures of the constant downpour, which was more than a little unsettling. I had prepared myself for the likelihood that it would be warm; or rainy and warm; or cold at first, then warm; or cold, then rainy, then warm. However, it hadn't ever occurred to me that it would rainy and cold only. So, in a mild panic, I had Hannah bring up three different long sleeve shirts when she came on Saturday with RDM and JNM, none of which I ended up using (the day ended up cold, then warm... whew).

There was a minor incident with Johnny Law that kept my vast fan base from arriving as originally planned, but it worked out in the end.

Race day got off to a (cold) start with some aimless wandering around. Here's everyone (minus photographer RDM and my uncle) after I dropped off my special needs bags. I had seen them from a decent ways off and was waving to get there attention, but it wasn't until we were right on top of each other that they noticed me. I'll be honest, I was a little unsure of their spectator skills at this point, as the race hadn't even started yet and they couldn't identify me (don't worry, they did fine).

I got myself (wet)suited up and headed out to the start.

After splashing around trying to stay warm for 30 minutes or so, we got rolling with the start canon. I had lined up in the second or third row back, right in the middle of the start line. I might as well have started in the very front, because I got pummeled like never before. I don't think I was so much swimming as much as climbing on top of people for the entire swim. It was the first race I've ever done that I thought about that old Clif Bar commercial.




I wasn't too happy and chose to walk the section on the beach between the two loops. Here's me taking my time amidst others not taking their time (I'm in the middle with red shoulders, you know, the one with the white cap and goggles).



The second loop was only marginally more pleasant than the first. I finished in just under 1:01, with about two minutes difference between the laps.

After the swim I had trouble getting out of my wetsuit sleeves (I wore a somewhat unique two-piece suit), then had trouble getting into my arm warmers in T1. Slow going, but it was worth it to be warm enough for the first part of the bike.

As much as I would like to pretend I was being all cool and giving a thumbs up here before getting my bike, that wasn't the case.

Sanangelos

According to my friend Ed, Hannah's living in a fictional California city from Demolition Man. I'm going down to visit this weekend, so if I run into a crazed Wesley Snipes or a knitting Sylvester Stallone, I'll be sure to take a picture.

The Big Goal

I'm going to go under 12 hours in an Ironman.

Now, that's not a huge deal to many people in the sport, but it represents a significant breakthrough for me. I'll need a sub-4:15 marathon, sub-6:30 bike and sub-hour swim. That also gives me 15 minutes for transitions.

Winning means sub-12. Losing means not sub-12. This is the first time in a while I've had such a quantitative goal.

Delays

I'm waiting for RDMs photos before I post my witty race report for Lake Placid. Otherwise, you'd get Hannah's pictures from the race. While good, they're not the best for the web, if only because she takes a bunch of shots of me getting closer and closer, then nothing when she puts the camera down to wave, then pictures of my back.

So you get little faraway Nick --> slightly bigger faraway Nick --> Nick's backside --> slightly smaller Nick's backside. I appreciate the waving and cheering more anyway.

RDM on the other hand is all business. I don't remember seeing his face on race day.

He's in Dallas right now, but I hope to get the pictures this weekend.

Self-Awareness

Why I think I've been happy with almost all of my triathlon results over the last few years: I've become more self-aware. Basically, that means I race to my fitness level.

It's easier to do that in long course events because it's such a long day. If I tried to "race" the 11-hour guys, I'd blow up by the halfway point (or sooner, since I'd be drilling it on the bike -- my weakest event). In short course stuff (for me, that's my youth swimming, all my rowing and various short triathlons) it's harder to moderate effort, since you have to go from the start if you want to win (or get a PR).

My last four long distance tris (Devilman '06 and '07, Musselman '06 and IMLP) were all successes (to me), despite not always resulting in PRs. Mainly that's because I was looking to raise my fitness over two years and have a breakthrough at Lake Placid -- I wasn't overly concerned with my times, so long as I executed effectively.

I'm spending some time thinking about a new long-term athletic goal. Likely it will be another IM in two or more years. I think it will take that long to address my various limiters and raise my fitness to a level that can allow me to reach another breakthrough, without compromising on everything else I need to focus on.

I'm also working on incorporating that self-awareness into the rest of my life. I think I'm doing okay with it, but there's always more room to improve.

Okaaayyyy... enough personal introspection in a public forum. Back to self-deprecating race summaries in the next post!

Official Lake Placid Photos

Official race photos are up. Some pretty good, some not so flattering. I'll get my race summary up sometime in the next week. Good day!

http://www.asiorders.com/go.asp?21875351

2007 Early Races

I did a couple of events this year leading up to Lake Placid. Naturally, I have no pictures from the NJ Devilman Half, the only distance race I've done more than once. So, you'll just have to take my word for it that I showed up again.

Devilman was a windy one this year. In '06 I PRed at the distance. This year... I did not. Although I had my fastest run ever. So that's something (a faster run, in fact).

I also joined in a half ironman relay with Phil (Hannah's dad) and Dan, a guy I know from work. I swam (quelle surprise).

Apparently late May in Harriman State Park in NY is really freaking miserable. I wore my full wetsuit (as opposed to the sleeveless) for the first time ever. I believe I had the warmest leg of the race.

Relays were in the second wave, along with most of the women and older men. I was one of the few people charging from the start horn, along with one other guy who I overheard telling someone else that he was in a relay. So, my plan was to hang with this guy.

That lasted about 200m. I'm a fairly fast swimmer (in the age group triathlon world), but this guy was unreal. It was taking everything I had to hang on his feet, so I downshifted to a more reasonable effort and swam solo the rest of the way. No drafting for Nick.


At some point during the swim, it started to rain, but I didn't notice until I came out of the water (2nd in the wave, 6th overall, there's something!). I ran to transition and handed off the timing chip to Dan (our cyclist), who was wearing every piece of clothing he owned. I then went to the bathroom to change and lose my breakfast and then had a long sit in the car, broken up by short trips to the bike course to cheer Dan on (it was a four loop course). I think about half the field dropped out on the bike, many of whom assumed that they would be okay in a tri singlet in sub-50 degree temperatures with rain and wind. Ahhh triathletes, we're a vain, stupid bunch.


Dan didn't drop out, what with some intelligence and clothes and all.


After the bike, Dan and Phil exchanged the chip and Phil was off. Hannah and I sat in the car again. Dan changed and tried to get warm in his own car.

It actually stopped raining for the run portion and Phil came back shirtless. At first I thought it was a result of the madness you hear climbers getting when they get lost on Everest. You know, when they go hypothermic and actually think they're overheating, so they take off all their clothes and end up freezing to death. I'm serious, I didn't make that up.

In any event, Phil was actually just hot.

We had a good race overall and finished fourth. First place had the fastest time of the day (uber swimmer was on that team) and beat us by over an hour.


It was nice to only have to bring a speedo, wetsuit and goggles to a race, instead of all the gear you need for a full event. However, the key lesson I learned is that while small long distance triathlons are fun to do, they are boooooring to watch. I think I'll throw Hannah a bone and only do short distance races next year (see I do care).

These people looked deep within my soul and assigned me a number based on the order in which I joined

That's the second time I've used that quote, the first is from IMWI in 2005. So what does that mean? It means I have a race number for Ironman Lake Placid: 279. There are 130 guys in my age group. I will be racing none of them (until the last few miles if there are any still around).