Back Outdoors

My 11 AM meeting ran late (don't they always ?) and I found myself look at 12:15 with two choices- walk 5 minutes to my car to drive 10, and probably only get about 1000 yards in the pool, then drive back, or run 40-45 minutes wearing nothing but tri-kit and gloves.

This is not a choice. If my car had been in the parking lot and it had been noon, I would have headed straight to the pool, but even though the mid-thirties is a little cold for bike shorts and singlet, I knew that the cold would only last for, well part of the run. I'd had a good spin this morning and I'd done the hill workout on the treadmill (below) yesterday, so I needed a solid, really solid tempo run.

With the exception of the fact that my Zoot trainers let water in through the bottom (great for triathlons, lousy for running in slush and puddles), it was a great run and another example of how you can be one the fence about a run and it turns out to be the best thing you could do. By the time I was climbing up one of the bigger hills halfway through the run and NIN's Sin came on the iPod, I knew I'd made the right choice.

I may not be in Arizona like my coach and his camp, but that doesn't mean it's not time to get outdoors...

Ironman Florida- Pre-Race and The Swim

IM Florida is everything IM Lake Placid is not.

The venues are remarkably different. Lake Placid is a beautiful community, which may be built around a lake- Mirror Lake (not Lake Placid), but is built upon its history (two Olympic games) and its topography- the mountains and the by extension, the skiing. As much as I love it there, the town groans under the weight of athletes and spectators on race week.

PCB, on the other hand, is built to stand up to nothing less than being marketed as the #1 spring break capital of the US. Granted, half the restaurants are closed, but there's plenty of room for anyone and the only place outside the race venue where there seemed to be consistent waits was the Mellow Mushroom.

In much the same way, the swim starts are similarly different. The Placid start can't be a beach start- the beach is too narrow at its mouth and there is a dock in the way- you'd also have to swim counter-clockwise. Once you get in the water, there still isn't anywhere to go, and you have to get out there and tread until the cannon.

IM Florida is the exact opposite. The beach goes on for- well, who know. They make this cute little coral out of black mesh that still allows pretty much the whole field to stand inside. I was the third person over the mat and into the corral. Note: do NOT ask if you can put your socks, the socks you did two other ironmans in, on the glasses table. The answer is NO !

I started in the middle, in the water. They told us we could be knee deep in the water, and that's where I was. I could see the buoy, because no one was in front of me.

Let me step back. I got up early- 4:30- after another dicey pre-race sleep of probably around 4-5 hours that included a lot of sweating. Nothing like getting dehydrated while you (don't) sleep. I made some coffee, ate a banana, ran 10 minutes- up to the Sunset Inn and back. Then I ate two 'single-serving' bags of Fruit Loops. My two good IM races featured crappy cereal that I typically find inexcusable as anything except a snack- go figure.

I walked down with a friend who was a few minutes late, we got body marked and then went our own ways. Maybe it's just experience, but my last three IM pre-races have been easy and quick. I get body-marked, I get in line for the porta-potty, listen to some music- hell, I even posted to my blog from my iPhone in transition- the line to the bathroom was eight deep and I got bored. It was terribly not clever.

I heard a lot of good music off the iPod- Nine Inch Nails, Evanescence, Linkin Park.

I was not allowed to put the pair of socks I'd done at least two ironmans in on the glasses table. I was told this in no uncertain terms...

Back to the swim start. I was standing next to my friend Steve, who rightly questioned my decision to stand in the front row, dead middle, and start there. He was worried about my safety. I told him I was tired of starting off to the right. I had decided if I was going to get clobbered, I'd rather get clobbered by good swimmers than by the duffers on the fringe, who don't know what they are doing and trend large. After all, a good swimmer might swim over you, but they don't keep clubbing you after they do it. The weaker swimmers will pound the hell of you, it takes forever to get in to the buoys...

I looked back. There were people- mostly guys behind me. But not too many.

The cannon went off and I started swimming. Everyone around me was walking, but I was swimming. This is my thing. Unless my nose is scraping the sand I swimming. I paid 550.00 to swim 2.4 miles, and I'll damn well swim the whole thing.

It was the easiest swim I've had in an IM. Yes, there was traffic, and yes, I couldn't get that close to the buoys until the third green one out. But I didn't get that beat up. I did get a foot in the mush, but it didn't knock my goggles off. In fact, my first real frustration was at the red buoy, the outer marker at the turn.

Why do so many people stop at the buoy ? When I'm close to the buoy, the only thing I want to do is get around it. I'm not looking to stop and capture a mental image of the damn buoy. I just want to keep going.

The result of this site-seeing for me is that I always get pushed wide of the buoy and because of the shape of the course, it's important to start turning in, because between the outbound buoys and the inbound buoys the line cuts in.

I got across that line and came out wide headed back in. This was a serious problem the other time I did this race as I swam halfway to Alabama coming back in.

I got in at around 36:30, and despite having done the race before, I was shocked at how long it took to get from the arch to actually start swimming again.

We'd been told repeatedly while on the beach that we were allowed to swim inside the buoys as long as we cleared the two outer corner buoys. Although I've always seen this as a little underhanded, after talking with some people about it, I had come to the conclusion you still swim the same distance as long as you go around the turn buoys. I was determined to get inside the buoys. But it never happened. I swam the entire second loop on the buoys, practically running into all of them. Still, on an open course, being on the buoys for me is huge, because it means I am swimming the course and nothing extra.

I was actually hoping that I'd negative split the swim by swimming the course tighter. But my left shoulder did fatigue, and then the left calf started to feel like I had to be careful with it to avoid a cramp and kept my effort moderate. I has the same issue at the turn- people seemed to be taking it all in instead of swimming. I fought a lot harder at the turn to stay on the buoys- it was hard to see because of the sun, but there were fewer people and I did manage to get close to the buoys. I was swimming alongside a woman (pink cap) and we were going the same speed. That really calmed me.

There was certainly some craziness- people swimming into me, swimming at weird angles or frog kicking. But I got a good line into shore, swam until I could swim no more, and then hauled myself out of the water and started running. I went under the arch in 1:13 and was disappointed that I hadn't swum faster, but I got my wetsuit stripped and then ran to the shower.

At the shower, I pushed my way through people- I couldn't believe people were actually standing still under the thing. Standing still- in a race.

Next: Transition and the Bike- this will be the good stuff...

Nutmegman Half-Ironman, Part III

I put two pairs of running shoes out in transition. I always want to have two choices in any long race- a pair of racing shoes and a pair of lightweight trainers.

But you have to make up your mind what to wear on the bike. You can't get off your bike and not know what shoes you are taking with you. Same thing with food. I had plenty of blocks and gels and I'd decided that as much as I like the cliff shot blocks, they just aren't right on the run. I had a gel right away.

John was talking us all up in transition. He made what as far as I know was his only mistake on the mike. He was giving me running props, saying I would move up, and then called me a 'world-class' athlete. Clearly he meant 'fifth-guy-on-a-small-school-cross-country-team' class athlete. But he gave me an idea of what was on the table in front of me, and so I headed out, with a plan.

This plan was to attack the downhills and really manage the uphills but stay conservative on them- that's something for another blog post.

As I headed out I noticed that there was a guy in a red skin suit (or I think it was a skin suit) getting ready to exit transition. I also saw the first woman running her bike into transition. I knew she was a pro, or at least that there was a pro there, and I'm an average enough triathlete to know that if I can beat any pro, man or woman, I've had a good day. So I had people in front of me, people behind me, and that's a good way to exit transition.

Unlike the bike, the run sends you only about halfway up the hill out of the park and then you hook a right downhill to the lower campsites. As I was heading out on this out and back I was watching the people coming the other way, including a woman who had a good lead on me. What ? That didn't make any sense. I'd passed all the women out on the bike course...

I ran steady down the hill, but tried to moderate my effort. I almost felt like I was going too hard. I so didn't want to blow up on this run. I get some positive feedback about my running and it is a perceived strength, however, in a long race, I'm just like everyone else. If I'm going to have a rough patch or a meltdown, it will be on the run. the sun was out now, it was getting warm, and I had a plan. I had to stick to it.

I went around the cone and started back up, having run a mile. I had an athlete close ahead in front of me. But I was discouraged to see that the guy in red and the woman both had held their position relative to me. Having run a whole mile, that was not what I wanted. But I concentrated on making the catch and did that quickly. Then I climbed up out of the park, enjoyed the brief downhill, and then started climbing again.

This second climb was harder than the one leaving the park. George's Hill Road. I didn't seem to be making great progress catching the runner in front of me, and then the lead bicycle-leading the first runner- came through. Wow- that about a half hour deficit...

I passed the relay woman somewhere in all this but the long climb up Georges Hill on the first loop was the hardest part of the race. I was sure the people behind me were crawling up my back, not that I would look. I was tiring.

And then it was over- a quick right hand turn, a dip and then a little more climbing but very moderate. I hit the three mile sign and took one of my gels. The plan was one every three miles. And I started to feel a lot better. I got to a downhill section and really started to work, made a couple more passes before the turn around, and took plenty of water. One of the volunteers had said 'You have a nice long downhill to recover' as I'd headed down Jackson Cove.

What she didn't say was what the climb back out would be like. It was another out and back and I really didn't feel like I'd opened anything up on guy in red or woman pro. But I kept it moderate all the way back to Georges Hill and then opened up on the downhill. Everyone going out was great- lots of encouragement as I passed people and I tied to do the same. When I got back to the entrance to the park I took another gel. My stomach didn't really like the gel, but I knew it would be important to overcome that on the second loop.

I rounded the cone and headed back out. I ran that first mile again and got a look at the guy in red and the woman pro. I'd open a small- small- additional gap. But that gave me a lot of confidence. I wasn't just holding them off, I was starting to separate from them.

By the time I got out on the climb up Georges Hill I had another athlete in my sights, although he was still a ways off. I was also passing first loop runners.

At 9 miles, I went for a gel, but didn't have any, so I took one from a volunteer. Banana-strawberry ? Oh well.

I made the pass before the turn-around at Jackson Cove and was told I was in the fourth by Mike Baker, who I'd passed. That was nice of him to let me know where I was and said I was looking good and he wished he had my legs. We traded conversation a little and before I know t, I was at the turn-around. I encouraged all the volunteers to just throw water on me and they did such a good job of it that I was almost too wet and I felt a little heavy climbing up and out- it's basically all climbing back to Georges Hill Road.

This time, I could see that I'd opened up a bigger gap on the people chasing me and that gave me a big lift. I started digging for more- the guy in third was out there in front of me.

I ran hard to the entrance to the park. And then I flew through that last mile. It was some of the best long course running I've done- I really felt good and ending with a mile downhill is awesome.

I didn't catch that last guy, but I made t pretty close: http://www.plattsys.com/results/res2008/nutiron.htm by cutting his lead from 14 minutes to two. Of course, the top two guys crushed me.

I came into the finishers chute, John said some outrageously nice things and I bellowed that I wanted some NIN. He delivered a ten-pack. If there had been beer during the massage, I'd have given the race an 11 out of ten. I even finished early enough to sit down and talk to the really good guys that finished this awesomely tough course under 4:40...

It also can't be overstated that this race is probably one of the most environmentally friendly races I have ever seen, and that is a big deal !

I learned a few things:

1) Not to undervalue what running skills I have. I had a good bike, but it was the run where I did all the damage and got back into the race (more or less).
2) Confidence feeds itself as the race goes on. Staying patient early and making consistent gains had me relaxed in the second loop of the run and I really ran well because I felt good about how the race was going.
3) Gu and blocks DO mix, just as long as you use them in separate legs. I think I have my Florida plan...

Nutmegman Half-Ironman, Part II

Any questions about what this bike course would be like were answered in the first mile. The climb out of the park was just that. A climb. As Mandy had warned, there was a downhill and a sharp turn. Then you started climbing again.

Or rather, I started climbing again. Since this is my only actual skill on a bicycle, this is a good thing. The bad thing was that the cable for my rear derailleur is so badly stretched out that there's just no way that I can get into the low gear, or get into it without risking throwing the chain. So I put it in 21 and started climbing. I wanted to save big ring 23 for the really bad climbs and also while I've never snapped a chain- I'm no Eric Hodska- I have blown up more than one rear derailleur on a training ride.

I was breathing hard. While I'd had a great swim for me, I was still tired, and not only that, my left ear was plugged shut and no amount of banging on my helmet could fix it. It would stay plugged for about 25 miles, kind of affecting my balance.

Margit's lead was not insurmountable. I caught her about 7 or 8 miles in. On one hand it always makes me feel good to catch her because she's such an awesome swimmer and no slouch on the bike. But at the same time, I feel bad. That's probably not a big lift for her for me to pass her.

I ate some blocks, drank some Gatorade and worked my way by people, then got out to 188. I started what is really a kind of stair-step set of climbs, up, up, and up. This was some hard work, with no access to the small front ring. And I have an oversized big ring.

I saw the first cyclist, the race leader, headed downhill, in the aero blazing along as I climbed at 10 mph. Then I saw another. I started counting. At eight, I stopped counted and I made a decision. I decided that I really would be patient today, that I would keep it in my head that this bike loop would have to be ridden three times and I didn't need to get where I wanted to be- top 3- on the first lap. Or the second.

Still, I was moving up pretty well, and then I hit that damn hill Mandy said was a 2-6 minute climb. I went to big ring 23 and stood halfway up and stamped up the hill using my Thomas Voekler impression- yes, it's ugly. I passed a CT Heat athlete and he said 'That's not fair.' He caught me again on the next downhill and I let him get 5 bike lengths and then got back to work. He was a little heavier than me, so he had good momentum on the downhills but never really opened a gap. There were four or five people in a clump at the end of the 188 section and I set my sights on them.

We turned onto Hull Hill's road. He started making his passes as did I, but the gap between us vanished and I decided I was going to have to pick it up a notch and get out in front, which I did.

The first loop of a multi-loop course is the best one in some ways because you know what you are doing. Once you get on that second loop, things start to get a little confusing. After this group that I'd passed, the number of people in front of me was small enough that there was no regular pattern of catch and pass.

There was also no chance to establish a smooth rhythm on the course. It continued to either go uphill or downhill, and not little gradient changes either.

The second loop of the course cut out the climb out of the park, and actually basically began with some nice downhill, but twisty so you had to be reasonably careful- followed by a 90 degree left-hand turn and you guessed it, more climbing. This climbing was a fairly short section followed by one of the more twisty downhills. On this second loop, I noticed that when we descended, everyone was looking back a lot. Worried about the people coming up behind them ? I guess it might have been about safety...

Although there wasn't a ton of people in the race you never really felt alone and you never went that long without seeing your fellow athletes. I went by one who I'd been closing on- he'd parked the bike and ducked (just barely) off the road to urinate. I'd found a flat/downhill section on the first loop to do that while riding. I never saw him again.

Back out on 188, I was starting to tire of the big-ring climbs...

As I went up the last climb going out, I passed the one of the top two women. I needed a second to collect myself and she decided to pass me back, which really annoyed me. Mostly because I knew once we finished peaking, that I was going to be going by her again on the downhill in about ten seconds, and I would have to do it with auto traffic on my back- there were two cars halfway up the hill and closing fast. With cars and bikes on the other side of the road, there was a potential for the pass to be dicey, but at the speed I'd be going it would be pass or crash (or brake).

That's exactly what happened. I blew by her on the downhill just as a car went by, but oh well, that's what you get for trying to manage everything in your head instead of just going with the flow of the moment.

I hit the turn-around and had already dropped her. I got halfway up that big climb again and decided I had to try and get into the small ring. My legs weren't burning or anything. I just was not climbing efficiently. I eased the lever down, gave a gentle down stroke with my left foot and it went into the small ring.

I got to the top of the hill and considered just leaving it there in the small ring, but of course that was a ridiculous idea. I had to go back to the big ring, and then was able to get back to the small ring on the next hill. After that, I stayed in the big ring until the third loop.

I felt like I was starting to get some rhythm as I hit Hull's Hill road again. My speed was still averaging below 20 MPH I think, but then again, I'll never know....

I started the third loop chasing a guy that was about 200 yards ahead of me. I knew now anyone I caught I was going to have to put time into because I was starting to overtake people that might be competitive on the run. However, I was also lapping people (that had started late in the second lap) and that always makes for a confusing journey. I did get past him finally and we both passed a third person- I had to work on the downhills because he was definitely riding aggressively on Bower and Oneill. I turned back onto 188 and started climbing. When I got to the first real hill, I popped my chain into the small ring, excited about having the option.

It came off instead of shifting down. I tried reseating it by shifting up but it wasn't having it so I hoped off. I got passed by the guy I'd just passed. He asked if I needed help, I said no and grabbed the chain with my right hand and reseated it on the big ring. Normally I try to use a finger, but in a race- my whole hand was covered in grease, which I wiped on my shorts.

I passed the guy again on the next hill and built a small lead into the turn-around. Taller, leaner, he looked like he'd give me a run for my money on the downhills- I mean, he looked like a cyclist/triathlete after all. So I decided that I had to get into the small ring on the biggest hill- halfway up I did, and it was the last hill I climbed in the small ring in the race. Then I really absolutely bombed down all those hills on 188 like someone was chasing me to do violence.

After I turned onto Hull Hill that last time, I ate some food, drank some gatorade and what do you know ? I caught some people. I thought maybe they were second lap people, so after I got a small gap, I got up as much momentum as I could and peed. I immediately got passed back. One of the guys, in yellow, had a 41 on his calf. We started climbing the last hill before Maple Tree Round and something big and black went by me just as I was about to pass this guy.

I looked down. My brand new computer was gone. I looked at that 41 and decided to keep climbing. Turned out he was on his third lap.

I never really gapped the guy and as we got onto Georges he was pushing me. The road down was rough and there was that sharp turn, so I let him by and concentrated on staying back and giving him room.

He beat me into transition, and I beat him out.

Next: The run

Nutmegman Half-Ironman

I'll write my race report tomorrow, because I have a day off, but I wanted to get a few thoughts down, because wow, I had a decent race- and some fun.

This was a great race. Mandy did an awesome job of setting up a fair, challenging, well-marked course that was well supplied, well-staffed. The swag was the best I've seen in years. And John- anyone who plays not one but 10 NIN songs on request is a man among men. Awesome.

Backstory- Last year I finished third at what was at the time Connecticut's other half-ironman, Extrememan in Madison. This was a disappointment. With only 75 people in the race, I finished 3rd because I couldn't keep track of where I was on the race, and when, thinking I was fourth of fifth and started to melt down on the run, I didn't fight it. I was in second at the time and closing on a win.

Fast forward a year- Extrememan didn't survive, and Nutmegman was moved to a new, closer venue very close to some great babysitting- Margit's friend Helena. So we both signed up. And as I wrote yesterday, my goal was just to have a solid race and undo the damage I'd done last week at Hammerfest. I just wanted to have some fun on what I was sure would be a challenging course, be solid, swim well. This sport is hard work, but on a good day it's tremendously rewarding and a lot of fun.

Then I get my race number. 4. Bret Favre's number. I admit it. I felt a little pressure there. And I slept like it.

New race goal- sleep like I sleep before IMLP 2006 (7 hours straight through). Not 2 hours. Maybe 3. Felt like 0.

And the end result. As John pointed out as I was finishing, they called it right. I finished 4th. I earned the number, maybe even deserved the number. And hey, a number is just that. Meaningless. It's how you race. Today's was good.

Hard Easy Run

Today was one of those days I don't usually have.

I had two runs today- 45 minutes at lunch and an hour after work. I had a great run at lunch- very motivated, everything felt good, the music was sweet. It was a great break in another long day.

Then I came home. I stopped at the grocers and again at the Buds. I grabbed a Heath bar and gaffled it down before my run and that was probably a bad move.

I was on the road as quickly as you can be when you are feeding four cats every day. The run started off slow. The first seven and a half minutes took eight minutes, or rather, it took eight minutes to get where I wanted to be at 7:30. It was a nice late afternoon run, it was sunny, just barely warm enough. But I didn't really feel that good. I felt like I had little or no energy, like I was struggling to keep my pace.

I ran out through the marsh on the nature trail and the first half of the run just never clicked. This was the second late-afternoon run in the last month that felt this way- not my A game, that's for sure. But then I hit the turn-around, and things started to click. I no longer felt all wrong- whatever that means- I started getting my stride, the music sounded better.

Moral of the story: Don't snarf down a candy bar and go running for an hour....

Downtime, NIN, and Whoops

I've been in a two week (or almost two week) downtime, which is why there's been no blog posts. It's an interesting time to shut down- middle of the summer, the Olympics going on, lots of races. I've read a number of other blogs of people who are all jazzed up because of the Olympics, nailing their workouts, and so on. It's the height of summer, after all, regardless of the temperature and the rain.

But that's no big. I need the rest. Even if I didn't agree with my coach that you need downtime after an ironman, and I do, I have a few areas in my legs that needed some time off.

But sometimes your music can undermine your best intentions. I started out of my driveway and the song that came on was Nine Inch Nails Head Like a Hole. When it comes to music, Nine Inch Nails has a special place in all my playlists. And Pretty Hate Machine ? It's the album that made me realise what I wanted music to be like. And Head Like a Hole ? the best song from the album.

This is what I get coming out of the driveway when I'm trying to ride easy ? When I'd spent all day- a very hard day- at work, waiting, just waiting for the ride ?

No fair !

But I had a great ride. Too bad that I got started so late that my wife missed Force 5's Wednesday Night ride....oops- and sorry.

In Review- The Year that Almost Was

Well, I know it's New Year's Eve because I'm once again reviewing the wreckage of my Fantasy Football team as we head to the playoffs and the inevitability someone else will win the league I've run for 13 years.

I decided to take on some new challenges in 2007. Of course, the unspoken challenge is continuing to be an older first-time dad, something that is not always the easiest thing. It's ironic in a way, because my own adoptive parents entered the game late- my dad was 48 and my mom 46 when I was born, even older than I was. Hopefully, I'll see more than 10 of Ian's birthdays- number 3 is hard around the bend less than a month after Christmas. Potty training is coming too.

The year started off slowly, with graduate courses and slow, easy training. There was the misery of the diet and the misery of the Plunge on the diet.

With no race on Margit's calendar and Ironman Arizona the first on mine, we had much more important issues on our mind. Like where Margit was going to be working and where Ian was going to be in day care. These big ticket items worked out with a lot less difficulty than we at first thought they might as Margit hit on a temp job at Pfizer and I took over full-time day care transportation duties around January 31st. Around the same time, we came to the difficult conclusion Margit's mom would have to go into a nursing home...

My grades were good, really good, and so was my training. I was ready for Arizona, but at the same time, Lake Placid was weighing on me and I put a lot of pressure on myself. I have to be honest that I never really felt that I deserved the result I got in Lake Placid. I felt like I'd been in the right place at the right time and not really earned what had come the way I might have had to at a race with a better field. At the same time, having passed on Hawaii left me feeling like I had to try and get a spot again. That's not the best way for me to go into a race and one simple mental error- not taking sunscreen before the bike, really impacted my overall performance. It became my worst race, and yet out of, also a learning experience. I both broke and then, in the end, didn't break. Running the last five miles of a race I'd lost the will to continue in was, well something.

And hey, the beer was good.

Oh yeah, and Peter Daly beat me and I posted another second at Brian's two weeks before Arizona.

On a serious note, there was Dave Parcells passing away in Florida and that was- that was a blow for everyone. I can't really express anything other people with more right and eloquence haven't already said. Dave was a great guy. He left a hole.

I didn't take much time off- I'd signed up for Eagleman. I couldn't find time for courses with the afternoon pickup at day care, so there was parenting, day care, work, and training. Margit's mom's situation finally started to settle out, our cat population jumped to six, and of course, by May the lawn had gotten away from us.

I had to drop out of a duathlon in June just a week before Eagleman with a strained calf. That's the first DNF due to injury I'd ever had and so close to an half-IM... Ice solved the problem. I went to Eagleman, had a great swim AND overcame my math meltdown that had me thinking I'd had a miserable swim, survived the drafting on the bike, and posted a pretty good time for being hurt. I even learned to appreciate Avril Lavinge in the porta-potty line, and snapped a great picture of Ian reading a certain coach's catalog that he got a good laugh out of.

I think it was a good summer, although it's always hard to remember the best of the warm lazy summer days when it's 30 degrees. There was plenty of great weather- and oh yeah, an iPhone.

The big event of the summer for me was the Swim Across the Sound. Never in my life have I dreaded anything more (well, except that time I was waiting for Margit to bail me out on her birthday). The thought of being out in a boat, jumping off that boat into 80-100 feet of water. I'd rather be in a pressure suit orbiting the planet. But it worked out great. I wasn't the boat anchor you'd think I was going to be. The harbour made me horribly sick. I was sneezing up man-sized phlegm an hour after I climbed up on the dock. I couldn't breath well enough to sleep for about 48 hours.

John Brennan- thanks again for organizing that. Awesome job.

Margit went from a contract job to full-time at Pfizer. That was a relief but not a perfect solution- but hey, they do have their own triathlon (employees only). Ian switched day care- tough moments there. He still talks about his 'old school'.

While preparing for the Extrememan half-ironman I found myself helping to set up the Madison Triathlon. Steve Surprise and I sat on the 'race committee', we showed up a day early and helped set up transition- I even gave the race day instructions to the athletes and was a bike course marshall.

Then came my third big race of the year, and probably my only chance at winning a triathlon. I didn't get it done, instead coming third. Enough said.

I took that to heart and went on kind of a tear. I placed in the top ten at a half-marathon the next week. Another two weeks and I jumped into a marathon, cracked the three hour mark, slept it off and won a 5k the next day. Then it was Reunion weekend at Rochester and a second place at a dirt duathlon the following Saturday in one of Rochester's kick-ass parks.

My college reunion was a great time and a real reminder of how much I enjoyed the extended stay I had at UR. The only low moment was Richard Lewis at Curb Your Enthusiasm. Man, he just couldn't get it done.

Somewhere amid the races Margit's BMW crashed into a deer and was totalled. Car shopping sure is fun, isn't it ? A throw away call I made to the Acura dealership I bought my car at about a TL I saw on my iPhone while we were at CarMax led to Margit, well, driving a TL. Also, I lost a cat. Jonah, you were a great friend, the one cat I could count on to Bite the Hand That Feeds.

Of course, I over-raced getting ready for Christopher Martin's and put up a miserable race despite running my fastest 5k in years.

But the big story to end the year with was seeing my son have the first Christmas where he understood what was going on. From magic reindeer food and cookies and milk left out on Christmas Eve and sharing the classics- Santa Claus is Coming to Town and Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer, to opening gifts, he was a great joy. We have some greed issues to work out, and I swear this is the last year I stay up until 1 AM Christmas Eve building a toy, but it was a great day.

Now, 2008- my coach says let's have a great year. I have two IMs on the docket, my family is healthy, I have a roof over my head- so I think that's a great idea.

Winter Weather Running

Not that I know anything about anything, but I certainly have plenty of experience running in the snow and slop. I ran 5 days a week in high school, regardless of the weather. Living in upstate New York, that meant fairly frequent runs in snow, sometimes deep snow. Of course, my focus is a lot different these days. But one thing hasn't changed- a long run in the wintery mix requires a slightly different approach. I think it's a great workout, but I also think it's a certain type of workout and one that has to be approached a little differently.

You don't really get that many opportunities to do a long run in the snow when you're down here in CT, especially along the shore, and I think it's just a great opportunity to have a really good time and enjoy yourself. You do a lot of long runs and most of them probably aren't all that memorable, but a snowy run or a run in a storm- you'll remember that a lot longer because it is special.

However, if you're looking for a red zone workout (there's nothing wrong with that, maybe you're training for a late January/February marathon), stop reading this, find the nearest treadmill, crank it up to your 20K pace and elevate it to 4-5% and have at it.

Here's my tips for having a great, enjoyable long run in the snow, sleet and wind.

1) Dress just warm enough and nothing more. It's cold, it's wet, you want to get bundled up. But it's easy to overdo it and you could find yourself sweating up a storm and melting down. Or worse, you might be tempted to remove that outer layer, which usually cools all that sweat and then your core body temperature can crash. It's ok to be a little cold the first 5-10 minutes. Running is one of the best ways to elevate your core body temperature and once you do that, you'll be fine.

2) Leave the beat-up old running shoes at home. If a pair of running shoes aren't good to run in on a normal day, they aren't good enough to run in the slop either. If you're a triathlete you probably have at least 2K invested in your bike and associated gear- you can swing 80.00 for running shoes if the pair you wear really gets ruined (and they won't). Give the old shoes to one of those drives that collects used shoes.

3) Turn down the volume on the ipod- just a little. When the roads are bad, you have to be able to hear the traffic, especially snow plows. The last thing you want to do is go around a corner and find yourself face to face with a plow blade

4) If you (micro) manage your music on the iPod, take it down a notch. Add some festive holiday jingles. Snow Patrol and Stars of Track and Field's The Antarctica EP are mandatory. Nine Inch Nails and Evanescence is probably a little too extreme.

5) The big thing- take the heart beat down a good 10 beats. Your leg muscles are going to be working extra-hard pushing off the uneven, sliding 'ground'. Run at your normal heart rate and you'll be beating up your legs, which shouldn't be the point. Keep it moderate.

Pick a route you don't usually run, or run one of your routes backwards. That way you won't be watching your watch and worrying about how far behind your usual pace you are. Running for 90 minutes ? Pick an eighty or even a seventy-five minute loop- you can always add on if you're ahead towards the end.

6) Wear glasses. You'll probably be headed out into a pretty gray day, and it may seem like the right idea to ditch sunglasses that will only dim things down more or fog up. But driving snow, sleet, or ice can make it impossible to keep your eyes open, much less on the road.

The bottom line is that a snow run should be fun. A good workout yes, but you might be better off leaving the red zone run for another day. Take time to enjoy the scenery and see the world a way you rarely do.