Looking back on 2009

I thought I'd post a random list of things I'll remember from 2009:

1. Visiting the Grand Canyon and Sedona with my family
2. Changing my son's daycare and the positive effect that change has had on him
3. Ironman Arizona
4. Winning Brian's Beachside Boogie
5. Dave from Elite Bicycles turning my cracked frame into a new bike
6. Coach Eric's December Strength Challenge
7. Winning my fantasy football league
8. Watching my son mature and develop his own quirky personality
9. Firmman Half-Ironman
10. Sunday runs with Michael, Saturday rides with Force Five Sports

Getting Cold ? Not Really

While I was not looking forward to today's four hour ride- starting at 9:00AM, wearing booties (first time), gloves (first time), a jacket (first time)- it turned out to be a beautiful day to ride.

I don't like getting bundled up to ride. I'd rather jump on the trainer and climb Mt. lemon virtual with the heater blowing on me just to simulate the heat that's likely to be the issue in Arizona. And it's a bona fide pain in the ass to fish your nutrition out of that deep well jacket pocket.

You just tend to feel (or you get it in your head) that you can't ride fast, or hard or whatever.

And that's just bull. Maybe it was just having my bike back, with a working drivetrain and race wheels, maybe it was having watched the swim start of Ironman Florida, but I had a really good, solid ride today in blazing sunlight, beautiful blue skies with just a hint of clouds.

The leaves are down now and you get to see the countryside in a way you haven't seen it in a year- the air is crisp and fresh.

It was just an awesome day. And too cold ? No, not today.

Today was just a great day to be on a bike, and I was lucky enough to be out there for one more long ride.

My other Elite Bike

Thanks, Bruce- had a great five hour ride yesterday while my race bike was in the shop...

Niantic Bay Triathlon- Surprising Myself

I warmed up for about 15-20 minutes. The water was almost flat. It was low tide, but slack. That was until about 10 minutes before the race started. While the tide had come in a little during the warm-up it was calm water.

By the time the race started, however, the tide was coming in and we were swimming right into it. Nevertheless, it was still out, meaning that we had to wade about 75 yards into the water. It was a weird combination. I wanted to start swimming immediately because when you run in the water your heart rate goes up. But with so many people around me walking, I was worried about the people behind me diving on top of me (happens) and the people in front of me diving and kicking me with their heels (happens).

The end result of being the third wave in a fast incoming tide swimming straight out is predictable. Chop, big, chop. No big story here. It was a mess. People who are better swimmers than I am agreed it was a mess.

Mark Satran and I swam the exact same time. We went into transition together and I came out slightly ahead.

The bike starts up a hill. Rather than mount and climb I ran up the hill in my bike shoes, passing people. I stopped to mount and @poycc passed me. I quickly passed him back, hit the first big left hand turn onto the main road and started bombing.

For the first time all year, I felt good out of the water. My back wasn't bothering me as it had been for the last 24 hours, I wasn't hyperventilating and the rolling terrain is exactly what I train on. Usually I'm pretty low-key about how I'm performing, but I was really cranking the bike, and with two waves plus the elites in front of me I had to give it everything I had. I felt like all the training I'd done on the bike this year, especially the time trialing, paid off.

I was up on my bars maybe 2-3 times the whole ride, once on the flats late in the race when I was trying to drop someone from another local tri club who decided not to drop back after I passed. I just stayed in my aerobars and kept up a high cadence of around 90. I didn't shy away from the small gear either on the hills.

I don't think I've had too many bikes as good as this one. It's just too bad that I didn't listen to the advice to take my shoes off before going down the long steep hill into transition after the dismount. Well, actually, I undid the strap on my left shoe, only to find out that I do not, in fact, like the pros, know how to take my foot out of my shoe.

I lost time going down the hill and Mark passed me. He also got out of transition with me.

He's three weeks off an Ironman (Canada) and he really made me work on the first mile of the run. I tried to pass him, and he wouldn't let me. I felt like he was turning it up a notch, but I also knew I might just not be strong on the run today. I pushed a second time. No dice. But I noticed I had a little advantage on the uphills and finally managed a pass on a hill and then hit a quick left and tried to open a gap. For a guy who's doing the big final week of training (and has another ride he had to do later in the day) he really made it hard to pass him and he looks like he's in great shape for an awesome IM Canada- good luck.

I was now running down exclusively men in their 30s. Since I was putting a big chunk of time on these guys (7 minutes ?) that was great, but I knew there must be 1-2 40-44s in front of me.

I ran well, but it was not my absolute best stuff. When I hit the two mile mark, I was very glad, and I should have but didn't take a second Cliff Shot (I had one on the bike).

When we got near the beach I saw I had three guys right in front of me, about 15 seconds. But I didn't have the acceleration to run them down, and sure enough the guy that finished ahead of me in ninth was 41.

I was unhappy with myself, however, I had no idea I'd finished 10th overall.

This was a good race for me, no question, and with room to improve on the swim (102 out of 495) and run (just 5th). The 3rd overall bike I'll take.

Shout out to Charlie Hornak, who survived a pretty rough swim and finished his first tri in who knows how long and also @poycc and all the rest of the Force 5 crew who showed up and raced well.

Saturday Morning Mishaps- Bad Bottle Cage Installs

Maybe I should let the pros install my bottle cages from now on.

Dave Greenfield- Elite Bicycles

This is quintessential Dave...



Can I mention Richie spent time the day before the race tightening Margit's headset ? And she wasn't even racing. Or that Dave emailed me right after the race closed to make sure I was in for next year ?

These guys are the best.

Ironman Lake Placid- Something New

I talked to Eric last night about what my workout should be while at Jeff Molson's pre-race party. I'd swum a loop of the swim course and there'd been that funny smell I associate with bacteria in the water- which is unusual for Mirror Lake - so I was focused on getting in a 'big' bike ride, meaning two loops of the course, and didn't plan on another swim today.

Eric was riding today with a friend, so I assumed I'd be going solo. He suggested two loops without the out and back, the first one backwards, the second one forward, and a brick run. I'm a big boy, so riding alone doesn't bother me, it's what I usually do and last year I did two loops on my own.

But I wanted to make sure Margit and Steve also got out and rode and we couldn't agree on a plan before bed, so although I was up at 6:30, I just started assembling food, fixing a few things, and because I knew there was a small chance Dave Greenfield would see me, cleaning my bike.

Complicating everything was the final real stage of the Tour. While instinct had me ready to bolt at 7AM, I thought that would be bogus and selfish. Also, I'd only gotten about 3 hours of sleep- the lake had done a great job of stuffing me up and I'd spent most of the night with a headache and and a stoppered nose. So maybe I wasn't looking to start a somewhat technical ride all fuzzy-headed, although I'd have followed whatever marching orders came my way.

Finally around 9 AM, someone had to make a call. I was a lot shorter on time- my own fault- so I decided to do one loop- with the out and back- backwards, then run.

This was great. I got to watch the start of the Tour stage, and then I got in a great ride.

I can't recommend finding a time to do this ride strongly enough. You learn a lot- I mean a lot- about the course- tackling it in reverse. There are a lot of false flats and even some false uphills and downhills that I've wondered about for years. I've raced the course 4 times now and done numerous rides on it. There's always been the wind- you don't race here and not run up against any headwinds.

It's also simply a harder course the other way. You get hit with the hills on the backside either way, but after averaging 24 mph the first hour (and I was taking it easy), things start to get challenging from you as soon as you get about half-way out on the out and back.

The funny thing is the ride went by really quickly, even though it was one of the slowest loops I've ever ridden- nearly three hours to ride what ended up being 57 miles.

The big hills back into Lake Placid ? I honestly believe that if they reversed the course there would be a significant spike in attrition. Eric wanted me to stay aero and climb for a strength-workout, which I would say I did about 90% of the time, with 5% standing and 5% sitting up.

The hills were tough, but totally manageable. I mean, I thought I was gassed when I got to the top- and I knew exactly when I was there, and I gave a big fist-pump, which isn't like me, but then I was able to settle right back and I was flying downhill again.

I finished the loop, then ran for 15 minutes.

Thanks, EH. Going backwards was the way to go, and so what ? I only got one loop in ? My ironman is in November, I have a sprint Monday, a ten mile road race next Sunday, and another sprint after that, and my training has me perfectly positioned to do an half-ironman. Did I get 112 miles or two loops in ? Who cares.

I got a great workout, Steve and Margit got to ride a loop, I took Ian to see Dave Greenfield. It's all good.

Good luck tomorrow, everyone.

Griskus Sprint Triathlon- Lost in Transition Part II

It seems like it's easier to find time to train than it is time to right race reports, but Griskus is the sort of race you actually want to write about.

I've had a lot of bad races there. I've gotten lost in transition. I've gotten lost on the swim course. I've cut my hand open on my bladed spokes during the bike. It makes me wonder why Tom Wilkas would stick a guy like me in the elite wave. He explained that he expected me to be a top 75 finisher, which took a lot of pressure off.

Until I showed up at the race, and picked up my number.

8.

Man, these low numbers. I love to get them, but I feel, uh, so unworthy sometimes.

I'd drove up to the race with @poycc and we'd gotten there early enough that I had time get my number, hit the loo, buy a race belt (yes, another race belt, grrr, but it was only 10.00), get my wetsuit on and swim all the way out to the second of the five buoys on the swim course. The more buoys I hit pre-race, the more comfortable I usually am during the race.

I saw Carl Russell in transition (check out his blog), racked a few bikes down from me, before I started the swim and it was great to see a fellow EH athlete. He was- as always- in good spirits and looking forward to the challenge ahead that I was probably dreading.

I had a good swim warm up, but I was really nervous. My last race had gone well- I'd come back from a massive panic attack in the water followed by boot camp in the pool to place in my age group at an Olympic race, and here I was, standing on the beach and frak. There was Chris Thomas. Dom Gillen. Ian Ray. Joe Whelan. Finally I found myself standing next to Chris Schulten, another awesome triathlete and we were joking with each other about why we weren't standing right in front and being uncomfortable in the water.

That really helped me a lot. Chris is such a nice guy,a great positive attitude and really humble. We were laughing about how his dad and I always see each other when we're working out and it really took that nervous edge off. Normally I want to be left alone with my thoughts before a race starts and resent any sort of intrusion, so extra props to Chris...

I didn't feel that good on the swim out to the far buoy. I was short of breath and looking up a lot. Of course, I was worried about how badly I was being left behind and constantly checking to see that yes, there were other pink caps (yes pink, we're guys, so why we we pink and the women purple ?) around me. I was also convinced that Ian, Chris, Dom and the other elites would be slamming head on into me by the third buoy.

I hit the turn around and everything changed. Suddenly I was swimming- actually on someone's feet, using their draft, swimming strong. I had to dodge a few people going out in the other waves, but I had a good straight swim back in. I did not cross the women's side and slam into a floating dock. I didn't cramp. and I was 13th of 39 in my age group in the swim.

Huh ?

Oh yeah. I got my ass kick by 5-6 minutes by the actual elite athletes.

Then I got lost in transition again. No Bill Murray, no Scarlett Johnassen. Just the jarring dislocation of not being to find a time trial helmet or an orange bike that say 'Starbuck' on them. Which is half the reason those things are there.

Time lost: 10-15 seconds.

I started out hammering the bike. I passed @poycc and hit 30 mph. I stayed in that ranged until the turn, then started really bearing down on people after the turn. Except for one small uphill section, it's mostly downhill. I was really working, and my bike was making a ton of noise. I'd spent about half an hour cleaning and lubing the chain and adjusting the shifting, but no time fixing my disintegrating x-lab (thank you, Route 146), which was rattling like the chains in a medieval rack- a piece would fall off a few rides later.

I really had a good opening half of the bike. As always, there were tons of people to pass, I worked the downhills a little harder than I usually do, and I took some risks, which actually aren't risks as much as me trusting my reflexes and actually racing the bike, as opposed to just riding it.

I have to admit though that I was waiting for the sharp left-hand turn- and waiting, and waiting. It's always later than I think.

Then the climbing starts. On the plus side, there was no point in the race where I felt the need to consult the small ring on the front.

On the minus side, as I climbed my way through the pack, I lost my temper with someone who was, quite honestly, drafting. In my opinion at least.

I was well behind but closing on a woman, a man, and another man who was passing the other two. As the faster rider passed, the woman pulled out and followed. Both were on the yellow line or close to it- there were other riders that became engaged, and finally, as I closed, I'd had enough. I felt that this woman was playing off the faster rider, both blocking and drafting.

I shold have left my impression of what was going on in my head and said politely 'On your left.' Or 'on yer left.' (Check out On Yer Left online). Instead I, as loud as I could, and that loud, trust me, yelled 'Get off his wheel.'

I didn't. What I did was ill-considered.

I kept climbing.

Finally, you take a right-hand turn, get a break from the hills, even get some downhills. I passed Gary Rodebaug. It's a real honour to race against this guy and have him as a teammate- he's a multiple Team-USA athlete, and he kicks my ass in the swim. And when I am lucky enough to pass him he encourages me to get moving.

At the top of the last hill, Bethel had a car. the was a guy in front of me and I knew I needed to pass him before we crested the hill, that if I didn't, I wouldn't be able to take him on the downhill. I was slow getting past him, so I left the saddle, made a very angry face, and found the extra rpms I needs to get the job done, rocking the bike. It felt good. Afterwards, I was told that I am 'the angriest looking cyclist' and you'd never think I was the same guy that was standing around casually chatting after the race.

Well, I was angry. At me.

I got into and out of transition in much better order than the T1.

On the way out from the park I saw Robyn Passander, another top-notch teammate, the second place woman, and Mike Maxichenko. I wanted to pass all three, so I started turning it up. I was tired, but I'd had a Clif Shot so I was felling good. Ian and Margit were at the turn, but I didn't even look at them. I just turned the corner, waved, and ran. I made the pass on all three of them quickly and then I was on the downhill.

I hammered the downhill. I passed a bunch of guys and the first woman and I just kept running hard and pretty much all out to the turn-around, knowing that the climb back out would be brutal.

When it happened.

And that's the funny thing about the run back. It's not uphill all the way, in fact, it's not really uphill until you're near the overpass and that's like halfway back. So I think I undersold the return trip.

As I was climbing I had Oakes Ames, John Wilson, and Don Gustavason in front of me. John and Oakes are awesome athletes but I had to run them down. I passed them after the end of the climb, not know Oakes had two minutes on me and therefore had me in the can. I was chasing Don but I never quite got there.

Overall, I was really psyched about the race, finsihing 15th overall and 3rd in my age group. This was my best Griskus ever.

Of course, once I saw my splits, I was unhappy with how I climbed and could see places where I could have shaved maybe a minute off the whole race. That's the peril of being me. I am never quite happy, even when I am.

But if a sprint race in July is something that can be built on, then this was just that.

Duit Duathlon- Part II

I'm not much a pre-race guy. I like to warm up, get the race out of the way, and then socialise.

I left the house 10 minutes later than I wanted to, so I was about five minutes late to Seaside Park in Bridgeport. I got a good bike warm-up in, but not really enough of a run warm-up and that's no one's fault but mine of course.

I was standing at the starting line with Peter Daly, Charlie Hornak from Force 5 Sports/Athlete's Foot, and two others. One, Taylor- with the enthusiasm of youth (he is, after all, a teenager)- looks at Peter and I and says 'What are you looking to run ?'

This is probably one of the questions I hate the most at a race, regardless of the source. The truth is, I very rarely step up to the line with any idea of what pace I want to run. Why ? I might be good with numbers, but I don't look at races like that. At the Fairfield Half-Marathon, I want to run 6 minute miles, yes, and I need a plan to do that which is more complex than who cares ? At a 5K ? Who knows. I only know myself. I will go out too hard. I will struggle to hang on. One mile might be 5:40, the next might be almost 6:00.

At duathlons you have the added issue of strategy. My coach tells me to 'try and stay up in the mix'. While today's race made me realise that I have to get back to my Brian's work ethic and upgrade the mix (more tempo efforts inside my runs rather than just volume), my plan is actually to evaluate the people around me and run hard but not too hard on the first run. I'm planning to counter-attack on the bike...

I made some crack about running somewhere between 6-8 minutes a mile and then we were off.

It was obviously early that I was not in the A group, Peter, Taylor and a twenty-something being that. I was in the B group. Uh, I was the B group.

I felt a lot like I'd only raced four times all year. I was running ugly, with Charlie not very far behind me and I didn't keep contact with that A group.

What was I thinking as I fell 50 seconds behind Peter- who's just a great guy and a great athlete ? As I fell 35-40 seconds behind the other two 'kids' ?

I was thinking that I had better have one hell of a bike. Oddly enough, even though I felt like I wasn't having a great run, and generally was thinking that lack of sleep (five hours a night) is starting to nip at the edges of my ability, I was still focused on winning. It was my first race on the Elite Razor, and that bike is a fast bike. Whether it goes fast with me straddled on it or not is another matter. But I figured as long as I still had the bike segment in front of me, I had a chance.

I tossed aside my first run shoes, their work down. A spectator, clearly new to duathlon, said 'Oh no, his shoe fell off.' Then I was out of transition. I'd marked the guy in third who'd been in transition 10-15 seconds longer than me and quickly rode him down. That's when I start to feel good, once I've taken out someone. I'm still always paranoid about being overtaken by better riders, but that doesn't happen the way it used to.

It was two extremely flat 5 mile loops on the bike. We got to the 'top' of the loop and I saw Marty's car coming back at me. Peter was riding well, about as well as I was, maybe better. The guy in second was losing ground to him- and me. I did what works for me, what keeps me calm. I concentrated on the next pass and ignored-

Nah- that sounds good, but it would be lying. I never stopped thinking about Peter. I made the pass to take second some time before 4 miles and then just hauled ass. I saw Peter coming back out of the 'lower' turn around. I did something I don't do. I turned my head and took a good long look at where Peter was so I could do the math on how far I was behind. I turned my head back and uttered a very loud 'F@ck'. I did not want to finish second. Peter is, again, a great guy, real nice guy, great athlete. Still didn't want to finish second, not to him or anyone.

Although I busted my ass on the bike, I ended up losing time to Peter. I put about 2:20 and 3:10 on the two other guys that had been in front of me and came into transition second. I had a nice short transition, scooped the gatorade bottle off my bike, and started running like hell. My second run, although 30 seconds slower than the first, was closer to my first run time than everyone in the top finishers except Tyler.

I ran hard, but I ran steady and smooth and my strategy paid off. I had the fourth fastest first run but moved up to third for the second- and adding the second-fastest bike to that was enough to finish second.

But it was the comfortable way that running hard the second run felt that gives me some hope that maybe I am not too far off base right now.

Don't get me wrong. Getting schooled by Peter is not pleasing. He's better, no question, but I think I could have pushed him by staying in the mix on the first run and not finished so far behind. However, I went into the bike fourth and crossed the finish line second, I have a great new bike that I've had a chance to race now, and I had a solid second run that reminded me what I am capable of.

It's time to get it up a gear or two and find my speed.

Marty- you put on an awesome race. Well organised, great course. Do it (or Duit) again next year !

PS Charlie- get some damn 20s on those rims. It wasn't a fat-tire race !

Duit Duathlon- Part I- Grading the Race

We're trying something new here- providing some format to the race reporting.

Race Importance (to my season)- B
This race has definitely been on my radar since Brian's, which was one of my three A races, but it's a step in the process for me.

Race Course- A
This was a great course. Closed to traffic, easy to navigate, impossible to get lost on. Only negative? No hills.

Race Organization- A
Very well organised. Started on time, no problems with timing, good food post race, awards and post race occurred right after race ended.

My performance- B+
First run was too slow. Found my grove on the bike. Very good second run. Verdict- did not work hard enough to be ready to suffer on first run.

New Equipment, New Year, Same Me ?

Along with the new bike- new with just enough transplanted parts from my old bike to maintain a tenuous link backwards that brings a smile to my face because I am very fond of that first Elite- I got a new time time trial helmet for Easter, the Louis Garneau Superleggera Bike Helmet 2009.

I'm not much a gear guy. That is, I find something I like, and I wear/use/ride it until (or after) it is no longer serviceable and then I move on. I mean, a bike is one thing. I tested the Elite T-Class before I committed to buying one, spent time talking to Dave and other people who had Elites, but with helmets, like most of my gear, I want something light, easy to use, that doesn't require a lot of time to research, understand, set up, program, and so on.

Take shoes. I run in Mizunos. If I absolutely can't get something Mizuno, I'll try an Asics. I can no longer get Mizuno racing shoes, so I buy Asics or Brooks. If someone tells me I should try something else and I trust them, I'll try it. And usually then I'll go buy another pair of Mizunos (although I do like the Zoot TT or whatever it is called).

But this helmet, now that I look at it online, is a better helmet than anything I've previously had, and I've had two very high-end non-TT Specialized helmets.

I went out Wednesday and did a time-trial on the bike- two loops of the Hammerfest course. On Friday, I rode the bike to Madison and back. Both days, I used my race wheels and the time-trial helmet because I have races coming up and need to get used to the gear I'll use to race.

I'm heavy for a guy my size, and my bike has gotten quite a bit lighter. I have a high-cadence style of riding that's developed after a lot of time forcing myself not to grind. I find myself much better able to quickly recover from cadence work than grinding and because I'm a crotchety, someone old guy, am not likely to change my style again, not matter what I'm hearing is 'the new thinking'. The high-cadence though, does not feel as smooth for holding a sharp line. Hey, I never said I was any good on a bike...

I went out and found myself wearing a helmet that is an awesome, comfortable piece of headgear, on a bike that is light and scary-fast.

I also found myself on a much twitchier ride and somewhat unable to hear because my ears are covered.

The joy of flying down the road on the first bike I can ever really call truly my own- custom made to fit me, and even, not that it matters, custom-painted for me- was somewhat dampened by the nagging fear that was brought on by the combination of aural claustrophobia and an inability to to keep the bike right on the white line the way I like. The wind was blowing sideways and I was motoring, but also fighting the bike's urge to sail with the wind.

Make no mistake. This is not the flaw of the bike, or of the Zipp wheels, and certainly does not reflect any mistakes Dave Greenfield made. In fact, Dave's paid me a possibly undeserved compliment by putting me on a bike this good, setting it up as aggressively as he did- with my input.

I am not- yet - quite up to the bike.

I'm confident that this will pass though. For one thing, I've never wanted to feel 'safe' on a bike I'll be racing. I just don't want to feel unsafe.

For another, I remember feeling kind of the same way when I went headfirst over the handlebars of my Lightspeed and landed on my left eye last April (?). I'd already been taken out once at that point in time last year and suddenly I found myself-unsure. Unsure on a bike is not a place you want to be. I went through a month of that, including one race, during which it finally passed.

Or I can think about Lake Placid. Although I hate admitting it, those downhills going to Keene have at times scared me so badly I haven't been sure I want to race there. I'm over that, and after riding harder down those hills in the pouring rain than the people around me last year, I'm not sure I could muster up all of that fear if I tried.

It's April, and I'm outside, riding in the wind, not my basement. And everything is turned up a notch because I don't have the familiar weight of the bike to help me hold the line any more, because I need to attune my senses a little bit differently to hear. The T-Class was a fraction the weight of the larger Lightspeed, the Zipp race wheels a fraction of the weight of the training wheels I'd been racing on, my first TT helmet was a big adjustment from a typical helmet.

All of this has happened before, and in this case, I hope all of it happens again.

I just need some time. And maybe I'll even finally cultivate some genuine skill on the bike now. Anything is possible, but I won't hold my breath on that last part. I do know one thing.

This new bike is fun...

Back to the Long Run

The weather was not what you'd hope for the first day home with your new bike. A little before 8 AM it was pouring rain, pounding down on the skylights.

My schedule said 2 hour run. I'd been off the last two days after a nice hard run on the treadmill and spin on Thursday. So a little spin wasn't the worst thing, just to get on the bike and kind of get a feel for the fit. I slipped an old wheel on about 90 minutes before my run and spun for about 50 minutes and all I can say is that I want to get that bike on the road, where it belongs, and if I listen to my coach and the things Dave Greenfield told me, that could be one fast bike.

I had time after my spin to get settled in for my run, so it wasn't a brick. I ran over to meet Mike D'Addetta at 1 PM at what I thought was a pretty sedate pace and then we got up to speed. We ran a nice 65 minute loop at a very steady pace, drizzle on and off, and then I was on my own again, running in the opposite direction from home.

I know that taking time off is important. So is time with your family. I'd asked Eric not to give me anything for that Friday-Saturday trip. I know myself. If I have an hour run, I'm going to try and cram it in. Margit even asked me if I wanted to go for a run Saturday morning. I passed. Instead I moved the car down the street, walked to Starbuck's for coffee and even treated myself to a doughnut, which is usually only post-workout food.

So I wanted to have a good run today. I got into that last forty minutes and the drizzle was coming down, the Sunday afternoon traffic was seemingly everywhere. A bleak spring day, the kind that is easy to let demotivate you. I felt like I hadn't been running hard, that I'd been running that way you run when you're coming off some rest and you've eaten a bit too well the last few days.

As so often happens, a little music changed everything up. Snow Patrol's 'Chasing Cars'. The rhythm of the song was just right and I found myself settling into that long stride that I have when I'm running, well, like a runner.

I had to forward the shuffle twice over the next 50 minutes. But when I hit the three way intersection at the armory and had to decide whether to take a left and end up running only about 1:50 or take the right and run 2:05-2:10, I took the right, and picked it up a notch. And maybe some of that run in the last 40 minutes was a bit too hard and I know my legs will be a little sore tomorrow.

But then again, late in the run is when you want to know you can pick up the pace in a two hour run, and I ran the last section hard, steady, and when I was done I felt strong, and, well, I enjoyed my long run. It wasn't the usual somewhat dull satisfaction of having met the time requirements. This was a real satisfaction with having run well and picked it when I started to maybe flag mentally a little bit. It's a soreness I won't mind tomorrow when I get up.

I'm glad I had a long run today. Sometimes it's the simple, straightforward workouts that bring the most satisfaction...

Notes from Philadelphia

I just wanted to jot down a few notes about our trip to Philadelphia (more to come):

- Dave at Elite Bicycles rocks. I got another great fit yesterday, good advice about what I can do off the bike to help me on the bike, and he practically gave away an upgrade from my T-Class to a Razor. All between moving to a new house and flying out to California. He's too much.

- Horizons vegan restaurant. I was skeptical, but it was a great meal.

- Parking. Parking in Philadelphia sucks. It's that simple. There's nowhere to park and you're likely to get ticketed when you do. The one-two punch. Brotherly love does not extend to the meter police.

-Nodding Head Tavern. Great food, great beer, great pint class. We'll be back.

-Philadelphia Zoo. I always feel conflict inside when I go to the zoo. If it sparks an interest in conservation and awareness in kids, that's awesome. Would I want to be an eagle living in a cage that can be measured in square foot ? Um, no.

- South Street Bridge repairs. Definitely complicates going places.

We had a blast. I want to go back this summer.

Elite Bicycles- Awesome

I just wanted to add another gushingly positive endorsement of the guys at Elite.

As I posted on the blog previously, Dave from Elite discovered a crack in my frame a few days before Ironman Florida. First, imagine that your bike company travels to your two favourite IM races- Florida and Lake Placid- and services your bike for free, including upgrading any parts that need it and letting you pay up when you're ready.

Then, Dave lets me know that he'll be replacing the frame- on him. Or I can upgrade to a Razor for a ridiculously low price- and no pressure here either. Dave would have happily swapped out my old T-Class for a new one, perfected an already great fit and spent half a day with me.

Then he hooks me up with his art guy, who sticks with me through the usual difficulties deciding what colours I want on my bike, what I want done special.

Finally, he arranges to spend half a day with me, getting the fit just right again on the new bike, working around my schedule.

I don't know what else I can say about these guys except they really have taken the whole customer service thing to an insane level...

Pictures of New Bike

First the pix, then a few words about the guys at Elite:

Elite Bicycles- Buy a Bike from these guys

I got a call on the Wednesday after Ironman Florida.

"Hi, this is Dave Greenfield from Elite Bicycles."

I was surprised. I like Dave, and Dave likes me, but we don't have phone chats.

He said "I have good news and bad news." I asked for the bad news first and Dave delivered it in an even-handed way. "Your frame is cracked."

Wow. That's like, your bike is broken and you'll need another one. My aluminum frame, cracked, on the top tube where the brake cable feed is. I very much doubt it's the design- it's probably the dumb ass way I flex the bike when I'm climbing. And the bike is over 3 years old.

So I asked what the good news was and Dave delivered that just as quickly. "You're getting a new bike." That's probably obvious. However, what Dave meant was that he was replacing the frame. For free.

That's Elite's policy. Your frame is cracked, there's no discussion about how it happened, whose fault it is or anything else.

I decided to trade up from my T-Class to a Razor for a nice discount.

Dave and I talked about the crack, which was not immediately dangerous- he hadn't wanted me to get all freaked out during the race about it. While I would not have trusted the frame for the Lake Placid race (and it wasn't cracked then), it will probably hold another 2-3 months if I need it to.

Dave and Elite do not produce thousands of bikes a year, where he can just pull one out of the warehouse and write the loss off against damaged inventory. He's going to have to custom order the frame, get it painted- to my specs- and spend half a day fitting me and listening to me jabber. As always, I'm impressed. Dave, for his part, just says 'your family'. And when it says it, it sure makes you feel good.

Ironman Florida, Final Thoughts

So it's ten days or so later, I've written the race report, been home long enough to get used to the spreading fall cold, raked up about 50K leaves (yes, literally, and no I'm not sharing the math).

So what do I think ?

First I want to give props to the guy that was the real hero of the day, Force 5 Sports' Michael D'Addetta. Michael suffered a broken toe in the wetsuit stripping area, suffered an unrepairable flat about sixty miles into the bike and walked half an hour- in bike shoes with that bad toe- got a wheel, finished the bike, and went out and ran the marathon- ran it.

I thought Steve Surprise also put in an epic effort- two ironman races in eight weeks. Wow !

So how do I feel- ambivalently psyched ?

On one hand, this was a 17 minute PR, beating a four year old PR set at the same race. So I've gotten older and faster. Mostly older. At the same time, I was more than eight minutes over my 9:59:59 goal.

On one hand, I was hunched over on the cold tile of the bathroom floor with a fit of Outo-geri exactly one week before the race and spent twenty-four hours dehydrated and semi-conscious. On the other hand, I'd completely recovered at least 48 hours before the race.

On one hand, the drafting burned me. I don't think I'm a great triathlete, but did thirty-four guys in my age group beat me cleanly ? I'm going to say no. On the other hand, I'm racing the clock, and I raced it clean and put an hurt on it.

On one hand, I lost my temper on the bike and chirped and bitched at my opponents, letting them get in my head. On the other hand, I overcame it.

On one hand, I had a slow marathon at 3:30. on the other hand, most of the people out there would have been happy with the time.

Overall, I had a good race and a great time down there and I want to go back in 2010. More importantly I finally exercised the demons of Ironman Arizona 2007, and am ready to go there next year.

I'm going to take this one, both the emotion in that finish line photo, largely frustration at myself, and the rest of it- which is positive, happy thoughts about how I am making progress as a triathlete, and getting faster- I was faster than my previous PR in the swim, the bike, the run, and both transitions. That's a step in the right direction.

I want to stop taking steps and get there. That's for next year, for Arizona 2009. This one, this was a keeper.

Ironman Florida- T2 and Run Part 1

I went straight from my bike to a porta-potty. There's nothing like the Ironman- here's my bike, thanks- the volunteers are great.

I snatched up my bag and immediately started to ask about sunscreen. After Arizona, I was determined not to meltdown. I got the direction that I could get it on the way out of the tent and this time I did go in the tent.

The bike/run transition is not nearly as chaotic as the swim/bike- people are not soaking wet and throwing around wetsuits and there are far fewer people in the tent. I got in a quick change of footwear and decided against trading my bike jersey for a singlet. I wanted to advertise Elite, but I didn't have the time. I got my sunscreen (even my legs) on the way out, and then was told to switch my number to the front. This 'rule' clearly services ASI, but that's okay, although having the number on the front is a little annoying.

I wanted to moderate my effort as much as possible. I looked at my watch, which I'd started at the beginning of the bike and I was at 5:20:20. I started running, and running well. I thought I was at about 6:44 on the clock, which meant no chance of breaking 10:00. If the clock was still set to pro time, I had an outside shot, but either way, I thought PR was probably more likely.

Too well. At one mile, I was running 6:50 pace. I went by the Elite tent, Margit and Ian. Everyone was great, encouraging me, tell me I was doing well. Ian was half-nodding off, but he's three, so he's excused for that.

I ran up past the Sunset Inn, where we've stayed several times. I have an intimate knowledge of the run course- I've been down there five or maybe six times now and run the course as many as four times in a visit. It's so different on race day, so alive. I took sponges at the aid station and some water to wash down the Cliff Shot, then focused on trying to moderate my pace. I went up the little hill across the main road and at two miles I was at fourteen minutes.

Still too fast.

I continued through the neighbourhoods where we'd trick or treated less than twenty-four hours ago and my times were still seemingly too fast- I'd be at 7:10 per mile after 6 miles.

At four miles I had another Cliff Shot but my stomach wasn't quite so happy anymore and I needed a full mile to have it settle back. I took the last of my race caps and some endurolytes after crossing the main road the second time. I was passing people, still feeling pretty good. I desperately wanted to get in the park and out to the turn around, which I did. The sun was really high in the sky thanks to daylight savings time being that night and not a week earlier. There was some car traffic in the park, but nothing too bad going out.

I ran over the mat, careful at the cones. My left calf was already a little crampy. I went over the athlete encouragement mat, but the message from Ian and Margit didn't come up before I passed the huge LED.

I was back out of the park before I knew it and headed along the sidewalk. i hate that part f the run because we're all on top of each other and was glad to get off it and run by Schooners. For those of you that haven't done the race in a few years, you end up back on the main road for a short ways because they stuck a high-rise and parking garage on what used to be the course and the road doesn't go through like it used to.

Then it was back across the road and into the neighbourhoods again. I had seen Steve and Kramer around the park- then I saw Michael and Mandy in the neighbourhood, I think. I was still running pretty well, but as I got to around 11 miles, I saw Sue. She said 'alan, you're looking great !' and then a few seconds followed this up with 'are you all right ?'

It's never good to be asked if you're all right halfway through the IM marathon, but hell, it was a legitimate question. I'd taken more Clif Shot at 8 miles and at 11 was still waiting for my stomach to settle so I could take one at 12.

I went across the road and ran back along the next stretch. I saw the Elite guys again at around 12 miles and I was still running well, but hurting. Still, it was a psyche to run through there, get back on the main road and head towards the turn around, watching people go out, many of them on their first loops. I headed down past where I was staying, past Alvin's Island, and towards the arch, cruelly knowing I'd been headed out again at a point where the winner was already done, judging by the women pros I'd seen headed back on their loops while I was headed out, now an hour ago.

I hit the turn around, listening to the announcement of someone finishing, and headed back out.

I was hurting- but still confident. I thought a PR might just be in the works....

Ironman Florida- Transition and Bike Part I

I ran up the walkway to transition. Unlike Lake Placid, where your bags hang on hooks, in Florida the bags are on the ground, ordered by number. There is a changing tent.

My bags were at the far end of the last row for the men, so when I grabbed my bag, I saw there was another person changing behind the tent- and there were volunteers there catching wetsuits. So I changed behind the tent. There's no way to overstate what a timesaver this was. The tents are generally a madhouse, at least when you finish the swim in the middle of the pack. I was able to get shoes and gloves on, stuff nutrition in my bike jersey, get my number on, grab my bike and be out of transition in about 4 minutes.

That said, I'm hard-pressed to know where to start on the bike. I don't want to be a whiner. I don't want to bitch. I knew there would be drafting out on the course, and I knew it would affect where I finished. I spoke to my coach the day before the race and he specifically told me I should avoid surging to fight the packs. At the end of the day, what happened to me happened because I rode 22 mph instead of 24 mph. I had a good bike, despite the fact that I was absolutely buried overall- 330+, compared to twice ranking in what- the top 120 ?- at Lake Placid. But if I had buried the course ?

I'd have really run like crap. After all, the bike isn't about the bike- no one gets a medal for riding 112 miles- you get that medal for getting off the bike and running a marathon....

I picked up my first drafter shortly after I started riding. I ran my bike out past the mat, past where the other athletes were mounting, and then hopped on the bike while it was moving. By the time I had clipped in I was already pulling away from the other cyclists, but I quickly developed a shadow. This shadow, which appears in some of my race photos, appears to be about 5'8" and 175, which is amazing because I'm 5'4" and 135. The shadow followed me out onto the first long straight away, or about ten miles.

But then I was able to settle into a pace and was starting to feel pretty good. I finished the Propel in my water bottle, ate both when I got on the bike and again 30 minutes later. The first feed station is up on a hill, and I got myself some Gatorade and set to working on my nutrition. After that, things went well for a while. As I have no computer, I had only perceived effort, and time checks when I hit 10 mile markers (there were also KM markers, but i was being mathematically lazy and just using the mile markers to compute speed.)

However, at around 20 miles a pack of 20-plus riders swept past. I started dropping back, which takes a while. I was angry.

But what made it really bad was this: After they passed they went the same speed I'd been going, leaving me no choice but to pass them. All of them. I was angry, so this was a real surge, exactly what my coach warned me would lead to gastric distress.

This happened several other time with large groups in the next fifteen miles. I was not well-behaved. By that I mean I did not bear the drafting well. I asked people where their pride was. When people would tell me to relax, I'd tell them I'd relax when they'd stop &%$^ing cheating. This is not good. I should have kept my mouth shut. I would sit up, aggravated, and get harshed on for sitting up and not just riding with the group. It's one thing to draft, it's another thing to rag on people for refusing to draft.

I also should not have surged, but each time it happened, I'd drop four bike lengths behind the last bike in the chain, and then accelerate and pass the whole group- now between 30-40 people.

I had no problem doing it- passing large groups. Once you get out to their left, you are still getting a draft, but you're passing, so that's legal. I cut in sharply when I got up past the last person.

On one occasion as I was being swept over, I gave a hard left head fake and upset some mid-packer. That I regret because it was dangerous, but not as much as I regret the surges. Then something happened at 35 miles that changed the race for me. I passed my friend Steve Surprise. A pack immediately engulfed me. I started dropping, by sitting up and not pedalling. Maybe the drafters are right and this is some dickish, perverse version of following the rules. I can tell you some day someone is going to ask me 'what's wrong' when I sit up like that and I'm going to accidentally stretch my left arm out and catch them in the mush.

I went back by Steve, who was still pedalling but also dropping, just not as quickly. One of the officials had been following the large pack- you could hear the motorcycle.

She didn't penalize the pack of thirty-plus people. No, she flashed a red-card to my friend Steve, who was trying his best to drop back and had just been caught up in the back of the pack. It was a totally absurd penalty. I was behind him about 50 yards, banging, literally banging my front wheel up and down and screaming 'No f%cking way !'

I took another run at the pack and passed them, but it was the last senseless attack. My heartrate went through the roof, my stomach started to turn over the way it only can when it's full of Gatorade and Cliff Shot Blocks, and I knew my coach had been right and these surges were simply bad for me.

I was mad at myself for losing my temper, and I knew I had to get my ego and my temper under control and ride my own race, because at the end of the day, if I rode clean, that was great, but if I wanted to have a good race- and a shot at a sub-ten- I had to ride clean and smart....

Last Long Ride

I wasn't looking forward to my last long ride once I got up this morning. At 7 AM it was light enough to start of 4 hour ride, however it was still overcast and 42 degrees. A week ago, I'd done 4 hours in 60 degree weather, so this was just not what I wanted.

I waited until 9:20 and then set out. It was still in the 40s and I have to admit that at first I was feeling a little sorry for myself. It was cold- by fifteen minutes my hands and feet were paying the price, although I'd rubbed bodyglide on my face and that seemed to make a big difference. The wind was blowing hard in my face, I couldn't get myself to drink any appreciable amount of gatorade, I kind of had to pee. I couldn't help but thinking this was not an ideal training ride to prepare for Florida. On Thursday night, I'd been sweating in near seventy degree heat and humidity running...

But then I started to think about it. The clouds had blown off, it was bright and sunny, the leaves are turning- it was beautiful day. And I was cautiously optimistic that on the way back, the wind would be at my back and I'd be rewarded for the hard work into the wind I was doing- and it was hard work.

And for once, the wind was at my back and not a cross-wind (something I've been burned on plenty of times riding along route 1). In the end, battling the wind made it a better ride- I rode farther today than last week, negative split the ride by 8 minutes, and although it never really warmed up, I was able to enjoy the fall in all it's awesome splendor.

Then I hopped off the bike and at first, it was like the start of the bike ride. My feet were still cold. My tight hamstrings were making my ankles hurt. I was thinking about how it would be in Florida if I got off the bike and felt like this. And then everything warmed up and I started running not just well for after a four hour ride, but well period. It was a beautiful day for running- maybe a little chilly on the bike but a great day to run. I put in 50 minutes and when I finished, I realised that I'd just had my best workout yet getting ready for this race...

Sometimes, you have to just bundle up, get out there, and everything falls into place.