Hammerfest Triathlon

For a lot of people, Hammerfest is an end of season race. In a sense, it felt like one for me as well. After racing a half-ironman last week, and with ten weeks of training in front of me to prepare for Arizona, I wanted to just have a solid race today and then get down to business.

It was a cool morning. I was up early considering the race is about three miles from my house, because my son had woken up briefly. So I was pretty relaxed by the time I got to the race. And as I started setting up in transition, I didn't think that it was that cold until I took my shoes off and stood on the grass. Man, the ground was cold. Really cold.

The water was flat, but the tide was still out- even though low tide had been two hours earlier, the water was extremely low. It wasn't a question of whether you'd start out walking, but how far you'd walk.

I hate this. I'm short. It's not as easy for me to walk in the water as a taller guy. I prefer to swim anyway. You start walking and your heart rate goes up. Or mine does.

But this has happened before at Hammerfest and other races and what have I learned ? I start losing time early. Whatever. It is what it is. About 200 yards out I banged my hand on a rock. I just kept swimming and pretty soon I was in the mix with the other guys in the first wave. That was when I started hear a 'whump' 'whump' 'whump' in front of me.

I did everything I could to try and get away. I've been racing triathlons for about seven years and I have always feared getting kicked.I don't understand why people have to kick so hard, why they don't get how dangerous it is. It is you know ? There's a difference between using your legs to aid propulsion and thrashing with your feet. Or so I think. And this guy was swimming erratically, turning left and right. He turned in towards me and kicked me hard in the face.

And I was fine. I put my head up, missed a stroke to adjust my goggle and that was it.

There was no panic, no water in my goggles. Yeah, I got kicked. No big deal.

After we turned around the final buoy it was a long swim back. For me. Maybe not anyone else, but for me it was.

I exited the water and as soon as I got up off the beach I was struck again by how cold the ground was. This also has happened at Hammerfest and other early and late season races before. I cut my left foot twice but didn't feel it, and then I was on my bike, after a slightly slow transition getting off my wetsuit.

This is the course I time trial on all year, so I know every inch of the road.

It's a tale of two loops, this race. Even more so, finding myself in the first wave. I was working pretty much solely to pass people in the wave after me and in my own wave, and for the first half of the first lap, it was a series of straight passes with no one challenging me. I lost 3-4 minutes on some of the top finishers in the water and this was my big chance to get back into the race.

You can't relax in a sprint, you can't rest or reset yourself and it's worse when your swim is slow. I was on the nose of my saddle a lot, really pushing on the flats and mostly gentle grades.

I was moving up steadily, and then I passed two guys without shirts. One was in his fifties and the other one was in his late thirties and from my vantage point, the younger guy spent his entire ride drafting the older guy. This was in contrast to the 55 year old that I was back and forth with on the bike- we took turns passing each other, then dropping, then passing again. And even that was tough for me. I mean, I was having a really good bike in my opinion but some 55 year old guy was basically not letting me get away from him after I'd caught him- which meant that he'd already out swam me by 3 minutes.

I continued to move up on the second lap, when you're out there with people who are on their first lap. That creates some congestion. It's not, however, an excuse to latch onto a guy almost 20 years older than you and follow him like a shadow. Again, that's my perception of what happened with these other two riders. I'd make a pass and the next thing I knew I'd have three guys going by me, one who'd earned it, and...

Whatever. Truth is the drafting was nowhere near as bad as last year. It juts happened near me, that's all. As Steve said to me, I went by and there were three guys right behind me...

I had a good bike- 8th overall including relays if you eliminate the guy that only did one loop. He was on a hybrid with straight bars and he was headed back to transition at the same time as me. I told him he had to go out and do a second lap but he probably didn't even hear me and I'm sure in the excitement he just lost track. That's too bad, you hate to see that happen to someone.

My feet were numb when I dismounted. I took my helmet and discarded it less than gently on the ground and did the same with my shoes. After the race one of the race directors asked me if something was wrong and I just said I needed to put some things aside before I started the run. Which I did. I left any frustration with my bike and my wetsuit.

My left shoe went on without issue. But the right shoe ? I looked down and the smallest toe on my numbed foot was outside the shoe. The other toes were inside. My opponents were heading out on the course, I was losing time...

I shoved the foot into my shoe with my hand and started running. My feet were dead to me. This meant that I was getting zero giveback when I took a step. Have I mentioned how much my calves have been aching ?

When I started the run, I was pretty sure that I was going to frak my calves once and for all and it would be at least a week before I could get back to training for Arizona. Screw that. In for a penny, in for a pound. I was racing and I was damned if I was going to save anything. I had five guys in front of me that were in range. I passed one guy I didn't know, then I passed Max, who had just a great race, then I passed two more guys, including- ah, let's not go there.

As I neared the turn around, I saw what seemed like four Heat guys running together. Then I saw Scott. I hit the turn and he was in my sites now. Of course, he'd started a wave behind me and-

This story is starting to sound old. That's what happened to me at Firmman- I buried myself catching a guy from a later wave and nearly did myself in. But this wasn't an half. This was a sprint. Go hard or go home. My dead legs had me worried. It was a while before I could run hard enough that I felt like I was in aerobic deficit. I continued to push and as we wound our way around the back of the course, I closed Scott down, then passed him. Of course in a mile and an half I was never going to put three minutes on him or the other two fifty-somethings I'd passed.

I ran steady, my legs half-numb and half-soar, but in the end it was a good run, a fast run, and for a sprint seven days after a fairly decent half, I'll take 11th overall and second in my age group (thin competition do to other races not withstanding).

I'm satisfied that I at least gave it what I had.

Now, it's time to get serious about the task at hand.

Arizona.

Hammerfest Triathlon- the Day Before

Why Music Anyway - An East Coast Liberal Learns to Live with Nickleback

Today was a pretty decent day here in CT weather-wise if your goal was to get in a workout. It wasn't so good if you wanted a white christmas- amazing how almost all the snow was melted this morning.

We got up, opened stockings, had traditional breakfast, opened presents, took a Lathan-style walk, then took turns doing workouts and trying to enforce the nap time and zone. Pictures here

When it was my turn, I cranked up my iphone to Dark Horse. I wanted to do a sort of time-trial effort on the mountain bike on the Hammerfest bike course and then do a run that would take me on the Branford Road Race and Y Walk and Run courses.

I got off to a really good start, and had a really good workout. The two loops of the bike course were hard, the first one was faster than the second, and what seemed like a mild breeze at my back seemed like a strong headwind in my face- no doubt being on a 20 pound bike had something to do with that...

I got off the bike and started running, and I was running really well, and I was definitely into the music.

But I have to admit that enjoying Nickelback's music is a little embarrassing sometimes. I've always been pretty attuned to the lyrics in the music I listen to. While I can't listen to music that sound horrible just because the lyrics are awesome, I can get turned off to music with lyrics that really bother me. Yeah, Sweet Home Alabama is a great song, but the words, well, I just can't stand the lyrics.

The funny thing about Nickelback is that I love working out to the music. And the worst part of it is, that when they are at their drunkest, most debaucherous, and most mysonginistic is when the music is at its best. The lyrics are often sophomoric and seem to appeal to the 17 year old boy the band has got to be assuming is in all of us. Yet the song Burn it to the Ground is at its best at the point where the lyrics go 'No class, no taste, no shirt and shit-faced.' While Dark Horse is not entirely given over to this, the songs that have a higher value- Never Gonna Be Alone, especially- don't always carrying the same impact, and leave you having a sort of weird, metallic, scratchy-voiced Air Supply flashback.

There's nothing boastful about finding enjoyment in a song like Something in Your Mouth. And I couldn't help but think about how many people view music as uplifting, spiritual, something to help a person find contentment, even completeness. I get this- I can feel a little bit of that when I listen to Gregorian Chant, Ravi Shankar, even (forgive me) Alanis Morissette.

But something Yo Yo Ma was saying on public radio last night connected the dots for me as I was running. He was talking about how he dislikes CDs because they are a possession. They do not allow for a dialogue, but rather enforce a monologue. He's running a contest allowing you to participate in his music: by collaborative sampling of Dona Nobis Pacem.

And that's the thing. When I listen to Nickelback, or Nine Inch Nails (whose lyrics are far more complex) and other bands making those kinds of music, I am establishing a two way dialogue. This is loud, in your face music. these people are shouting at me, and I'm shouting right back, not with my mouth (unless you hear me singing along), but with my legs and arms. What draws me to Nickelback isn't the women-as-sex-objects or let's drink ourselves stupid lyrics, it's the balls to the wall energy and emotion.

I'm not a highly talented athlete. I work hard, I try to race hard. And this music, well, it puts me in that emotional/physical space I need to be in. It's a tool.

Yes, I enjoy the music. Even if the lyrics rub me the wrong way, I do enjoy the music.

And there's nothing wrong with that. For all the right reasons...

Hammerfest Triathlon

This race is best seen in the bookends.

One bookend- my wife is primarily responsible for setting up the registration materials for the race, assigning numbers and waves, and so on. She went to drop off the registration packs at the race venue at around 10:30 PM the night before the race. She comes back at 11:10 PM- and tells me there's a mouse in her car (it had been living in a friend's shop vacuum used to blow up the buoys). Guess who was on mouse patrol.

Other bookend- Sunday afternoon, after a few hours to recover and a big (for me) lunch, I did my 90 minute run, to try and salvage the day. About 45 minutes in Depeche Mode's Precious was up on the iPod, and that run, in searing sun and heat that brought a thick haze to the shoreline, got good really quick.

http://www.plattsys.com/results/res2008/hammer.htm

I had to wait for Ian to wake up, then get him dressed and ready to go to the race. So I got there a little late, there was no one to watch him as I searched for a rack or racked my stuff. By the time I got in the rough water, it was 7:20, 10 minutes before race-time.

I was not ready to swim in the chop. I needed a good 10-15 minute warmup, and that didn't happen. That's my fault- as a result, I had a slow swim. That's all there is to it- it was slow.

I came out of the water right behind Steve Surprise, who started 3 minutes after me. We had roughly even transitions. I rode him down somewhere around the hill by Tom Girard's house. I then worked my way up on the first loop, then the chaos began. The second loop is full of first-loopers from other waves. Usually, you still pick up plenty of people in the second loop from your wave, but two athletes I know suggested that maybe the large group of people from my wave in front of me were taking advantage of one another's pace. Who knows ? I did not catch enough people on the bike.

I had a good run. I took out about 15 people, but that only worked me up to twentieth place. I ran by Joe Whalen, and he encouraged me to get my ass in gear and catch the people in front of me, some of whom I did.

Bottom line- I raced poorly. It felt like my second race of the season. It looked like the second race of my season.

I had a good run in the afternoon. That made me feel a lot better. Sunday is a half-ironman, and there, I have to race well.

Force 5 Team Race

For the second year, Force 5 held its own team race on Sunday right here in Branford. The idea came from Steve Surprise and Scott Casper, and they both deserve huge credit for putting this event on.

It's a handicapped start race, which last year meant that I started last. This year I started second to last. Unlike last year, the swim was actually close to half a mile.

There's something interesting about standing on the beach and starting by yourself. Watching over a dozen other people head out in twos and threes and fours and knowing you are starting alone, in fact you are starting alone and Henry Brown will be three minutes behind you.

I hadn't been in the water in 11 days, and although my warmup went well, it showed. I swam so hard that by the time I'd swum 200 meters, I was struggling to breath and had to keep my head up a bit. It was tough going to the halfway point and I caught sight of Henry heading out as I was going back, which is odd, because normally in a race I don't see anything. I did my best on the swim, but it's really tough to stay calm when you start 13 minutes or so behind some of the other people on the road, and you have to swim half a mile before you can start making up time, and you have 8 miles on the bike and a 2 mile run in which to do it.

Ouch. On one hand it's a compliment to be respected by your teammates. On the other hand, it's weird to have a goal of not finishing last. It was a good 100 meter run to the transition. At my bike I looked down the hill to see Henry on the verge of exiting the water. I didn't look again- I just put my socks and shoes on (no sense wrecking my feet on a friendly) and headed out on the bike.

I knew I wasn't beating Henry, but I knew I really wasn't going to beat Henry if he started the run ahead of me.

We had our adventures- the boat being backed into the driveway for example. I know the Hammerfest course backwards and forwards, so that gave me the barest advantage. I attacked the hills, the flats, and the downhills. And as Michael D'Addetta, who saw what he called 'the pass' said, there wasn't really anything I could do but get passed.

Henry was a gentleman and let me hang back around 50 meters, and he paid me the honour of a lock back at the first turn he didn't need to take, then dropped a very impressive hammer on me.

Hey, I didn't finish last, and I had fun.

Tools

As an extension of the side-work I do (websites) I was reading a triathlete's blog. This is someone I don't know, who used to work with someone I do know.

I'll start out by saying that for 99% of us, this whole multi-sport thing is nothing more than a hobby. So when you start looking at our opinions, or what we like or dislike, who cares, right ? If you're happy, then that's it really, right ? I mean, if you say 'I think drafting should be legal in USAT races' I'm going to argue with you, but otherwise, hey, whatever makes you happy makes you happy.

This athlete was saying that it's no secret that she doesn't like training with a heart-rate monitor. She's right, because it's on her blog. In her opinion, training with heart rate holds her back.

I thought that was interesting.

I see the heart rate monitor as a tool. I don't use it for all my workouts, but I use it frequently. If coach tells me to run 45 minutes in A or spin easy for 90 minutes, I certainly don't need the HRM for that. If I'm doing a run with short bursts at race pace, I probably don't need the heart rate monitor. It can provide interesting data, but I use speed and effort to determine if I'm reaching race pace (or I do the workout on a treadmill, where I can guarantee it).

This athlete was talking about using power on the bike. It would be cool to be able to afford and have the time to adjust to working with a power tap. That's probably not going to happen for me. I actually find the HRM extremely useful on the bike, because unlike on the run, in workouts at least, I often have trouble elevating my heart rate. Today was an example.

I was supposed to ride in low B for an hour. That was no problem, although I was under 120 a lot, which technically isn't B, it's upper A. But then it was 12 X 1 minute in C with 2 minutes recovery. The highest my heartrate ever got was 152 on one effort that included a climb, other than that I was barely reaching 145. What does that tell me ? I still need to work on what it means and feels like to ride in C.

I guess it comes back to how you use the tools. I use heart rate to complete my workouts the way my coach tells me to. But if I really don't want to be passed by a scooter when I'm supposed to be riding in low B, I let myself go for a few minutes (and then yes, I'm in C). On the run, if I've got a chance to make a catch, or I spend part of my two hour run doing a loop with someone else, maybe the heart rate takes a back seat.

That's not to say I just shove it aside. I think if you've got two hours in low B, you better be in low B 1:45 of that. Eric says that heart rate is a guide, and don't sweat it.

I don't know, I think all the tools you can use, all the data you can gather, it's all got its uses. That said, if you're happy, you're happy, and if you're not, you're not.

But to me, heart rate is a pretty time-tested and valuable training tool.

Long Run as a Curative for Bad (?) Race

I emailed my coach around lunchtime today, asking if I could push tomorrow's 2 hour run up to this afternoon. I had three reasons I wanted to do this, only one of which I felt was worth articulating. I had done a duathlon in the morning, so the original plan was to do the long run tomorrow.

I mentioned scheduling issues in my email. Because of the way tomorrow is set up for me, the only way to get the run in was to get up at 5 AM and run for two hours, after what was probably going to be another six hours of sleep (if that).

Eric said to go ahead and do the run as long as I was up for it, which I felt I was.

But there were two other reasons I wanted to get out there today and not wait besides the muted joy of knowing that long run is once again out of the way until next week.

The first is that while the duathlon I did will not help me in any measurable way for Lake Placid, going out and running tired will. I've done LP three times and here's what I've learned- if you aren't feeling a little beat during the run, you aren't working hard enough. Getting up on Sunday morning and eating some fruit and drinking some coffee and nailing a two-hour run at 20 seconds a mile faster than IM pace is important, but it doesn't get it done 100%. I wanted to be leg-sore, tired, frustrated. John Hirsch wrote about this on his blog, but this isn't a case of wanting to be able to relive my glory days of massive volume followed by instant recovery (I've yet to have any glory days or massive volume).

The second was that I was annoyed with myself. I lost second place today by eight seconds, and did not feel that I should have lost by eight seconds. It was a failure to achieve a better result, a mental breakdown in will power or a simple lack of ability to go fast on this day. I have nine seasons of coaching field hockey, track, and lacrosse under my belt and I know sometimes you have to get tough with your athletes. Sometimes you have to play bad cop and give a workout that says 'I'm not satisfied with your effort or execution and when that happens, you will suffer.' You're trying to breed a desire to succeed and quite frankly, a fear of failure, and that can be learned even when you know it's coming. I wanted to atone to myself for failing, although there are far more serious things that I should be atoning for, such as every time I say no when my son wants me to do something with him and I feel like a little part of each of us dies. As demanding, irrationally so sometimes, as a 3 year old can be, 'No, I can't right now' never quite feels right

So I went out and ran, with a small bottle of g2 and a cliff shot for food, cranked up the headphones and set out while wife and son were at his swim lesson, which is a one-parent affair.

The first hour was tough. My left leg was sore- achilles, calf, and vastus intermedius. I alternately felt like my lower intestines were either channeling a Chilean volcano or trying to give birth to the Rising Star. My heart rate was up around 143 and my goal is 129-132, a heartrate at which I can run surprisingly fast for a surprisingly long period of time. I actually was considering whether or not to just stop at home at an hour for a while.

Then something funny happened. I relaxed. I started channelling the athlete people tell me I am, the guy that does OK at the races but doesn't exist inside my head, where good is what other people better than me are. My heart rate dropped into the mid 130's but i was running faster. I did the hardest climbing in the last 50+ minutes (I ended up only running 1:52, but who's counting ), ran better, opened up my stride, worked my arms better, felt good. Actually felt good.

The goal of running tired and getting through it really did come to fruition. The preparation for IMLP, itself a springboard for my real focus, IM Florida, actually didn't take a hit despite doing a race in the morning. It was also a reminder that some things feel like they need to be kept close as reminders or motivation, both good (family) and not so good (IM AZ), but that the race this morning was not one of those things. Maybe I'd been slower than last year. Maybe I didn't prevail against a fellow athlete I had outran on the first loop, and only ran even with on the second.

Where will I be in July, that's the real question.

And then at a dinner for people who have worked on Brian's and Hammerfest to raise money for the Myelin Project, Michael D'Addetta mentioned to me I was faster than last year. That came as a surprise, so when I got home I looked it up. 1:25 faster, not the two minutes slower I assumed I must have been based on the results of where other people were around me.

Which is why a certain coach says to base what you do on what you do, not on what other people do....