My Ironman Canada Wristband

(I posted this on Slowtwitch.com a week ago, but felt it was more appropriate to my blog.)

I'm still sporting my IMC wristband 2 1/2 weeks after the race.

2010 was my 12th banding at IMC, but I'm finding it hard to part with this year's flourescent green reminder. Maybe I'm trying to prolong my IMC experience, hoping to stave off the post traumatic IM doldrums. Maybe I'm just too lazy to find a scissors. Maybe I like neon green.

But neon green is not subtle. So, the cynic might say it's my subliminal eddy sucking the unsuspicious into an Ironman "all about me" conversation ad nauseum. Maybe.

My yearly pilgrimage to Penticton is the celebration of a lifestyle that allows me to participate in something bigger than myself. I get to don the costume of an Ironman, and sate in the accolades of ten thousand cheers. My joy graciously on loan vicariously to those nameless faces. So akin to the last mile of IMC, vicarious is a two way street. And I reap much more than I sow.

The patience of the volunteer at registration, working a double shift. The innocence of the little kid asking for my glowstick, then shyly asking for my autograph. The respect from the old folks sitting for hours, with bodies betrayed by time. Their barely audible cheers are deafening to me, and it is I who now betrays them, as I shuffle by, my pained acknowledgment and labored thank you belying my true gratitude. The Spartan volunteers at Yellow Lake, aka Ice Station Zebra. The awe, wonder, apprehension and fear on faces of Ironvirgins. The excitement of the finish line, building up to Midnight.

And the humbling experience afterward, while walking to my car along Winnipeg, as the crowd emptied onto the course. Up ahead I hear the din of excitement, I see the horde part, and a lone runner emerges from the darkness. People gasp in amazement, stopping to applaud and cheer what they are seeing. She is determined to cross the finish line, still over a mile away. I'm honored to celebrate her triumph, and overwhelmed with pride to witness her determination, as she passes me by. You go girl. Congratulations. You are an Ironman.

So I've got this plastic wristband that I haven't taken off yet. I think I'll keep it on just a bit longer.

2010 IMC, The best of times, the worst of times

This year's version of Ironman Canada featured cool temps, rain, sleet, and strong North winds.
Swim: Cold & Slow 1:28
You reap what you sow. Notorious for my lack of swim training, I did even less this year, and it showed.
Bike: Steady pace 6:40
More bike miles this year (3500+), and it paid off. Didn't go faster, but felt strong and in control all day.
Run: Into the Abyss....and back! 5:19
Felt like a runner, had to slow my pace down in early miles, my legs felt great. Started to get tight around mile 8, the beginning of the meltdown.
Got to the turnaround in OK Falls, and walked up the big hill out of town. Tried to baby step jog, but my legs said no. Walked about 1 mile with a guy who was having more trouble than me. (I'm on the edge now, looking down). Saw him to the medical tent at the next aid station, then tried to jog again, but instead fell directly into the abyss.
Yes, I fell into the abyss, and I like it. This is a nice place, I didn't want to leave it. I knew it wasn't my happy place, but in this warped reality, I was in la la land. I was feeling sorry for myself, thinking I was suffering so badly, I wanted to quit, and the darkness of the abyss offered me refuge. I could stay here, and everything would be just fine. Misery loves company, and I was lonely. Then a funny thing happened.
Coming up to mile 18, my brain told me it was 19. I knew it was 18, but wanted to believe it was 19. I couldn't yet read the mile marker, and squinted into the distance. Is that an 8 or a 9? It better be a 9, I told myself. Soon I could read the numbers, and seeing it was only 18, I got angry at the mile marker. I was really ticked off. But my anger helped me out of my funk, and I began to climb up from the darkness. I realized I wasn't suffering any more than anyone else, and I should stop feeling sorry for myself.

I begin to get mad at ME! I use this to get to mile 19, where attempting the math, I thought maybe, just maybe (if I was seeing my watch right), I could finish just past 14 hours. I'm climbing up and nearly out of the chasm now. It took the next mile to clear my head, and at mile 20 I more accurately evaluated my situation. I had 6.2 miles to go, and 1 1/2 hours to 14 hours. Can I run a 10k in an hour and a half?
As you can see, I was getting my wits about me, and now I had a goal. The last 10k was the most gratifying I've ever run. My will to finish strong, and my determination to hit my new goal, was very satisfying. This fueled my desire to finish strong. Rather than trying to survive the run, I embraced it, and went for it. Again, I felt like a runner. By mile 22, I ran the long incline just past Skaha Lake beach. I made the turn onto Main. This impossibly long uphill stretch went by effortlessly. I crested the rise, and lengthened my stride. I was back in town, feeling great, and felt like I was flying.
Turned left off Main, then right onto Winnipeg, and saw the mass of people lining the course. Did the last left turn of the night onto Lakeshore, only 1.2 miles to go, and I was going to enjoy every step. If you've done IMC before, you know the nasty trick of the finish line so near, and yet so far. 1k to the Sicamous, do the u-turn, then the final 1k to the finish. This usually is a difficult section. Not this night, not for me, not after what I'd been through.
I hear them screaming and clapping. I hear the pounding from the bleachers. I see the faces, they're as excited as I am. This finish is my celebration from the abyss. My celebration of the power of the human spirit, which when called upon, can lead anyone to great things. I once was teetering on the brink, I now have strength. I once felt pain, I now feel euphoria. I once had doubt, I now am in awe. Ten thousand voices escort me to the finish line, and it's over. The abyss, there and back again.

Your Bucket List. Perspective from 14 days out

Skydiving, climbing Mt. Everest, Seeing the Great Pyramids, running a marathon....These are the types of things to put on a "bucket list"... to do before you "kick the bucket".

With 2 weeks until Ironman Canada, I was thinking what a unique time this is. It's supposed to be taper time, reduce the volume, relax, let the body heal, then come Ironman day, you'll feel GREAT! Trouble is, with 2 weeks to go, this is often how one feels: Doubt; I didn't train enough. Anxiety; My body hurts, and I suffer through "easy" workouts. Fear; I don't think I can finish.

Ah yes, the "magic" of the taper! With 2 weeks to go, and thousands of miles behind you, you feel WORSE than you have all year! And to top it off, this is a likely time for illness and injuries.
It's supposed to be stress free; a healing time of rejuvenation. Instead, it's often worry leading to panic, loss of sleep, appetite, confidence, halatosis, ADD, sexual dysfunction, forest fires, global warming, and just not much fun.

For me, entering my 12th Ironman Canada, I have all of those symptoms, and then some. On top of all this, I have no car (blown transmission), and just completed my first week in my new apartment, in a new town, for my new job (Boys and Girls, can you say "Stress"?)

So back to my original theme, I'd highly recommend you add Ironman to your bucket list. This one item will help you cross off many firsts, which should be on a bucket list anyway. Like trying on a wetsuit, riding 100 miles, running a marathon.

PLUS, as an added bonus, you get to experience this unique time called THE TAPER. If you survive the final 2 weeks of this hallowed time, you can say you can survive anything, and you're ready for whatever comes next!

And what comes next? Your Ironman experience including your finish! And the best of the best Ironmans, is of course, Ironman Canada.

Heart of the Lakes Triathlon

This is a favorite race of mine. First time I raced it was back in the 80's, in my Speedo, steel frame bike, Tinley tights, and Oakleys. During one awards ceremony (a couple dozen people standing around awaiting hand calculated race results), the announcer read a note: "Greg LeMond just won the Tour de France by 6 seconds".

Now they cap the race at 1000 people. This modest little race has become the MN state championship. My time this year, 2:04:28, my first triathlon since IMC last August. Not a record, but 12 minutes faster than my last HOLT triathlon in 2006.
Swim: 17:15 slow, stayed wide, easy stroking
Bike: 59:59 21 mph, Mostly small chainring
Run: 41:51 7:53/mile, felt like an easy pace
All in all very pleased. I was concerned about pacing, because I haven't raced in a year. I had lots left in the tank, and I had FUN.

Welcome to Flatville, life in 2D, and my tesseract

Carl Sagan told a story of life in Flatville, where the 2 dimensional inhabitants knew only length and width, there wasn't a 3rd dimension (height). Well, that is life in southern Minnesota farm country. But I'm finding the quiet flat roads challenging with the 25 to 35 mph sustained winds! But yesterday the heavens had pity on me, as the winds were mild. My morning ride was just over 100k.

So back to Flatville, where if by chance a 3 dimensional object would come into view, I wouldn't be able to describe it other than perhaps a UFO or other such unexplained phenomenon. I could perhaps concieve of a 2 dimensional representation of what the 3rd dimension might be, ala the tesseract (3 dimensional object representing the 4th dimension). But I'm stuck in this vortex of reality for the near future.

Journalism 101, Don't bury the lead. I'm in this land because my Mother fell and broke her hip. Surgery went great, she's doing fine, and prognosis is excellent. She'll be coming home from the hospital in the next few days, and I'm here to help however I can.

My mom is 91 1/2 years old, and she's my inspiration to dream big, respect the neighbors, but live life loud! Hurry up and get well Mickey! I love you.

How not to run a 1/2 marathon

Last Saturday I ran the New Prague 1/2 marathon, finishing in 2:10. I did the first mile in 8:18, and was under 34:00 minutes at 4 miles. My 5th mile was about 9 minutes, and that's when I "blew up". Years ago I could have easily held that pace, but not this year. I had to walk, and the rest of the run was at 10 and 11 minute mile pace (ouch!).

But....I kept telling myself it was good training, to have gone out too fast, and then be forced to keep going. I wanted to quit at mile 6, but still had 7 more miles to go! Hundreds of people passed me, as I shuffled along, wishing it was over.

This reinforces what I need to do. Up the intensity of workouts. I'd rather run 1 mile at 7:00 pace, than 10 miles at 9:30. So today at Bally's I ran fast mile, 1/2 mile, 1/4's on intervals. Once or twice a week I'll do intervals, and lots of steady tempo stuff. Then, hopefully, those 8:30 miles will come real easy. We'll see.....

Lake Minnetonka RR, and now May we pump up the volume?

Last week was recovery week, this week More is More!

LM 1/2 marathon: Perfect weather, fantastic course, loads of people, and tons of fun! Yes, it was fun, even with all the hills. In fact, LM 1/2 is hardly ever flat. It's a series of undulating ups and downs for 13.1 miles. Even had to climb a 2 tier steep hill at the end, but got the a fun short downhill and tight turn to the finish.
Very conservative beginning, low HR and easy breathing. Picked up the last mile, and felt strong. My mile times were:
9:37, 9:37, 9:32, 9:31, 9:30, 9:46, 9:26, 9:20, 9:32, 9:13, 9:25, 9:05, 8:25, 0:38.

Over 20 minutes off my PR, but I'll take it. I haven't been running much, so I was happy with how good I felt during the entire run.

This week is back to big volume, and not sure if I'll run New Prague 1/2 or not. We'll see....