A Humbling Race, and some Thoughts on God

Where has October gone?! Halloweekend is fast approaching, and I have bright red contact lenses, small cosmetic fangs, and elf ears ready to go. I’m going to be a blood elf, which only seems appropriate since I take blood for a living. It will be nice to cut loose and have a little bit of fun.

This past Saturday I woke up ready to set off on another race, the Great Pumpkin Challenge 10k. I was still getting back into the swing of run training the week leading up to it, and just getting over the knee pain. With nearly 3 weeks since my last long run and very little high intensity training in the same period, I knew I wasn’t in tip-top condition, but I felt good and was ambitious. How could I not be, since I had been win, place, or show at all three of the other running races I had been in this fall? I was humbled to find myself crossing the finish line in 8^th place overall, in a time of 39:57. I guess I should have seen it coming, given the low volume and low intensity of my training through injury, but it was really a big wakeup call. The half-marathon I’m training for is on December 1^st, and this certainly is not the time to be slugging!

Monday rolled around, and I was lucky enough to have the day off from work. I considered getting back on track with my running, but then made alternative plans. On impulse, I decided to wake up at the crack of dawn, pack up my bike and cycling gear and take a trip to Lake Placid. I know cycling fitness is a low priority right now, but sometimes you just have to enjoy the last bit of fair weather before the snowfall begins! My plan was to do one loop of the Ironman course, plus the climb up Whiteface, totally 75 miles and 8000 feet of climbing. This was not a training ride in the traditional sense, but more of a pleasure ride, where lots of picture breaks are taken (the Adirondacks are beautiful this time of year!).

The top of Whiteface was an experience of a lifetime. The road to the top is technically closed this time of year, but since I passed by a couple of maintenance vehicles and smiled and waved, I guess they don’t care if cyclists use it. This meant that I had the entire mountain to myself. Not a soul was on the road, and there wasn’t any snow yet for the skiers on the other face. I took the road as far as possible (up to 4,610 feet). When I got to the rough walking path, I set my bike aside and climbed my way up the rocks for the remaining 200 feet. Standing at 4,865 feet and taking in views as far as Vermont and Canada on a clear day like today, I let out a roar which echoed seemingly for minutes, and then a gust of wind slammed into me as I held my arms open and took it all in.

I don’t want to turn this blog into a place for debate of any sort, but I am going to go out on a limb here and tell you that I felt God in that moment. How I feel about organized religions is irrelevant. Just a couple of weeks ago I found myself in a really dark place, and I confided in a friend that the world is such a terrible place that God either does not exist or just doesn’t care enough to fix it. At the top of Whiteface I realized that in order to see God, you have to get yourself away from everything else. God doesn’t act in the hustle and bustle of city life, or even in the long hard training days when you feel alone. He is there when you close your eyes and get in touch with the world he has created, the things beyond humanity. When I really stopped to think about this I realized, it’s not that God doesn’t care, he just would rather we find greatness in ourselves instead. He’s not the parent who raises you and teaches you right from wrong. He is the parent who watches what you turn yourself into and either shakes his head and shrugs his shoulders, or takes pride in what you have become. Either way he loves you, but he makes you want to be the best version of yourself you can be.

I won’t rant anymore about my existential experience on top of the mountain, but I will say that being alone makes you think deeper, and the longer you sit alone with your thoughts, the deeper the rabbit hole gets. Today during a 2 hour 16 mile long run, I thought about my goals for next summer and what I want to be. I thought about what the upper limits of my own performance could be, and concluded that there are no limits but the ones we imagine. With this conclusion in mind, I have decided that being top three in my age group is a good goal, but I could dream bigger. Winning my age group and breaking 10 hours is a better goal, but implies that I just want to beat those around my age.

In 2010, I saw Logan Franks, 23 at the time, win the amateur race at Ironman Lake Placid and set the course record with a time of 9:20. There is no reason why I can’t do the same. The bar has been raised once again, and in 2013, I want to break the amateur course record with a time of 9:19 or better. Call me ambitious, and I will reply with a “thank you.” The slogan of Ironman is “Anything is Possible,” and I want to prove it. I am going to continue running hard this Fall to set myself up with a strong foundation for Winter training and Spring training/racing. I’m going in for the kill next summer. I will be the best version of myself I have ever been. See you out on the roads, happy training, be afraid.

A Rough Week, But at Least I'm Lucky

When life gives you lemons, make lemonade, right? So when October gives you excruciating knee pain, hang up the running shoes for a while and hop back into the pool and onto the bike. After finishing September with a bang at the Run for the ROC 5k, where I ran a personal best 17:43, I soon found myself struggling to hit my running stride without a stabbing pain in the front of my right knee. I’m not sure if it was the relative intensity of track workouts, races, or long runs that triggered the pain, but the volume should not be the culprit giving my history of injury resilience at higher run training volumes in triathlon season, not to mention the absence of cycling and swimming mileage this fall.

Whatever the reason, I’ve had to adjust the past week’s training to a mere 1-2 miles of treadmill running until my knee pain was unbearable, and finish with a few pool yards or a bike ride. When this past Saturday finally rolled around, I had accumulated just 5 miles of running all week, and there was a morning 5k I had planned on running with my friends from the Skidmore Running Club. Unsure if I would be fit to race, I went to the race site early and alone instead of traveling with the club. This allowed me to get a warm-up in, decide whether or not I should race, and possibly bail without the other runners knowing I had even gotten out of bed should the pain be too bad.

After 3 miles of easy warming up, the pain was minimal, and I decided to have a go at the race. Even if I was reduced to a walk, the raffle prizes were sweet, so I figured it would be worth it. My friends and I all toed the starting line, and when the start horn sounded, we were all bullets out of a gun. For some reason, as always, the crowd took off at a wretched pace, as if everybody forgot how long 3.1 miles actually is. Nonetheless, I found my way to the front of the race in a matter of seconds, probably owing to the large hill at the beginning of the course (It can be difficult to book it up such a hill too hard and then find your stride quickly when it flattens). The rest of the race was relatively uneventful, which I always enjoy. The out and back portion allowed me to see my friends and give them all a friendly wave of encouragement, which was nice. Of course though, after the second mile marker, my knee began to hurt. With the out and back format, I was able to judge how far back the next runner was, and I estimated I had about 20 seconds at the moment. I tried running the numbers through my head to figure out how slow I could run with this pain and still win. My final conclusion was that it was better to finish it in strong just in case, because you never know what somebody else has in their tank. I pushed hard up to the last 200 meters or so, and when I was able to glance and see that there was nobody within the 200 meters behind me, I finally felt comfortable jogging it in for my first ever 5k win, with 34 seconds to spare before the second runner came cruising in. My college friend and new Running Club president, Kate, managed to pull of first in the female overall rankings as well, giving the Skidmore Running Club its first ever race sweep! Kate and I both won gift certificates to a Mexican restaurant, so I suppose we will be celebrating our victories sometime this week with enchiladas and margaritas.

I have to admit, I am not particularly proud of finishing a race anything short of my hardest work ethic, but some days I suppose you can only play the cards you were dealt, and this is what I had to work with on Saturday morning. I shamelessly will admit that I am lucky to have finished on top, but my grandmother always told me, “luck is always better than brains,” so I wonder if luck might be better than fitness? Since finishing triathlon season with Timberman, I have been on the podium at every race (except for cyclocross…) this fall. As much as I would love to take credit for these accomplishments, I think a little bit of fitness and a whole lot of luck is where it’s at. Hopefully my luck will continue into the rest of the fall and winter training, and I can get back to higher volume running for the OUC Half Marathon in December.

On another note, the 2012 Ironman World Championships also just happened this weekend, which naturally leaves me inspired to work harder and get fitter throughout the winter. Pete Jacobs decisively beat out fellow Aussies Crowie and Macca, who got far more media attention leading up to the event. This is Pete’s first title, and when asked about how he felt at the finish line, his words were “I’m in love.” He mentioned being in love with the sport, the island, the crowds, his support team, wife and kids, and nobody could have put it better. That’s what I feel when I train and race. Sometimes we lose sight of what matters most when the pain sets in, but we have to remember why we do it- for the love of the sport. It also helps to keep take note that, even though Oz has won the title for a 6^th year in a row, Germany and Belgium dominated the top 5 this year. Fair weather in Australia makes the major metropolitan likes of Brisbane and Sydney ideal training homes year round. Meanwhile, the Nordic folk in middle and northern Europe are either bundling up or taking the training to the indoor trainers for about half the year. Next time I ride and my toes start to get a little numb, I’ll just have to tell myself, “If the Germans are doing it, I can too.” I am going to come out of this winter with the strongest swim stroke, most powerful pedal stroke, and the fastest running feet of any season. Mark my words, when the race season rolls around this spring, I will be ready for it. And hopefully I will catch a little bit of luck too.

September: Cyclocross and Lots o' Running

So… September has been a fun month. After returning to Saratoga from Electric Zoo I made haste to jump back into being an endurance athlete. A few track workouts with one of my training partners, James, were some solid reminders that it takes hard work to get back to fitness. James is a great guy, and I love the hard work he puts into being an athlete day in and day out.

As my blog has probably already given away, I am addicted to training and racing. My second addiction may be a little less obvious, which is retail therapy. Yes, I love to shop until I drop, and September may be the worst month of my life when it comes to giving into said temptation. As far as clothes to wear out and about go, I could give a hoot. But when it comes to training and racing gear, especially bike stuff, I am clinically addicted. One of the best reasons to be a runner and leave cycling, swimming, and triathlon alone is the cash savings. If all I did was run, I would spend a mere $300-400 a year on race entries and shoes. In fact, since I can still fit into kid’s size running shoes, I spend about half as much money on shoes as my friends and training partners. When it comes to cycling, however, it seems frugality is impossible. This month alone I have bought a Specialized Tarmac with full Ultegra and a Dura Ace rear derailleur with an Ultegra wheel set, a pair of red stainless steel Speedplay pedals, and a pair of Gaerne Mythos cycling shoes. BUT in my defense, I paid nowhere near retail value for any of these items. The Tarmac is valued at $3700 new with all Ultegra components, and I got it for $1467 with a derailleur worth an extra $100 and a wheel set worth about $400 more than stock wheels. The pedals are worth $200 new and I got them for $110, and the shoes are worth $400 (and only sold in Europe), bought for $140. That amounts to about $3,000 in savings, and I would like to look at everything as a glass half full, even if my bank account appears 90% empty.

Don’t get me wrong, I’ve still been putting in some hard work! I just finished my second 50+ mile running week. If you know anything about my resume as an endurance athlete, you would know that running is my greatest weakness, so when I tell you that on Saturday, September 22^nd I dropped a 38:20 10k (GPS says 6.1 miles, so probably closer to a 38:57), I promise that the effort is there, not just a ton of cash spending.

I also had my first go at cyclocross, the sport that is half road cycling, half mountain biking, and all pain and suffering. I turned my girl, Annie’s, old road bike into a cross bike with just a $40 investment in tires, and at the first Adirondack Cyclocross in Johnstown, NY, ripped it up! Yes, I may have been beaten by a few hotshots with actual cross bikes worth over $1,000, but I guarantee that nobody spent as little as I did to make it across the finish line in fine fashion. I finished 11th out of 20, which is satisfactory for my first attempt.

The highlight of the month, however, had to be this past weekend (29th-30th). It literally rained every hour of every day this weekend, but I still managed to get in a handful of running miles and show up for the Run for the ROC 5k in strong form. The race is sponsored by Saratoga Hospital to benefit the radiology oncology center, so there were a bunch of my coworkers present. The race also attracted a good sized crowd of Skidmore Running Clubbers (11 am start), so I had an opportunity to catch up with a few college friends as well.

After a thorough warm-up run, I made my way to the start, where I toed the line with a couple of familiar faces from some of the other local races. Matt Ingler is a gentleman who runs very similar paces to me, so I more or less knew what to expect from him. I have to give the guy a boatload of credit; He had run the Adirondack Marathon, possibly the hardest marathon course within 200 miles, the weekend before, and was gearing up for the Hudson-Mohawk River Marathon this coming weekend. Just a little 5k sandwich this Sunday morning! Shaun Donegan also showed up at the start line, making a fashion statement as always in patched up cut-off jeans (he took them off just before the start). Shaun is an animal of a runner who stands on a whole different level from me. This guy runs ultra-marathons, not because he is too slow to do well in shorter race distances, but because he is that jacked of a run. He came to the 5k Sunday morning after participating in the Ragnar relay, a 200 mile race from Saratoga to Lake Placid, the Friday and Saturday before. He would eventually win Run for the ROC in a time of 16:25.

But enough about Shaun! I felt great at the starting line and was ready to run relaxed but fast for the first mile, hoping to gradually build into a slightly more aggressive pace as the race progressed. I forgot my GPS watch so I don't have any splits, but I executed this race perfectly as planned. From the start, the runners around me looked like Olympic sprinters, as always. with no GPS watch to tell me my pace, I had to trust that they were going out too hard, as is very typical in local 5k runs. In the first mile I slowly worked my way through the dying crowd from about 15th or so all the way up to 4th, where I sat content for most of the second mile. In the second mile I began to creep up on Matt Ingler, and I knew we had a good race on our hands. We alternated between 3rd and 4th for quite some time, and ran stride for stride some as well. Knowing the course as well as I could have, I sweated it out with Matt until a sharp turn with about 0.2 miles to the finish, where I darted for a tangent run line, grit my teeth, and never looked back. I held onto my lead for the last stretch in front of the iconic horse track of Saratoga and came in with a time of 17:43, and 3rd place overall! Average pace comes out to about 5:43 per mile. Besides the time, this race felt great for me because it has given me the confidence that I can hunker down and dig when I find myself in a close race, something that has long been a recurring weakness in nearly all of my triathlons this season. I have to attribute my performance to a combination of lots of training miles, a little bit of cutting loose (this was also Skidmore's alumni weekend, so I may have partied a tad), and a disciplined pacing strategy. I can't wait to carry some of these lessons to my training and racing next summer in pursuit of Kona qualification.

Hope you all enjoy this blog, it was written under the influence of alcohol (don’t judge!), so hopefully you all had as much fun reading it as I had writing it. I'm taking the Certified Strength and Conditioning Specialist exam next weekend in New York. Hard to believe I'm still studying even outside of college. Happy training, thanks for reading!