A changed world - 2020

It’s certainly been a while. I’m not sure what draws someone back to the keyboard to write a blog to no one in particular, but nonetheless here i find myself, tapping away in the back garden watching the dogs try to find one last morsel to eat in the garden, looking for inspiration. Although, 2020 isn’t a year that needs much inspiration for writing. To say there has been a few “goings on” would be somewhat understating the fact. They say that great art comes from great hardship. I will try to dispel that myth in the next few paragraphs.

First we had The Virus. The type of thing Hollywood has been writing scripts about for decades, professing to depict the end of the human race only to find a cure at the last act. Well, the end of humanity isn’t near and there’s no miracle cure in sight, but there certainly is a virus in our midst. Known as Covid-19, it has shaken the world in a way that leaves no hiding place under the bed to escape from it. It doesn’t seem to care who you are. Young or old. Black or white. However, the biases in our system seem to be highlighted. The prophetic news outlets will claim that African Americans are more vulnerable, or that children could be next. We are now 6 months in to our new way of life. Covered faces. 6ft apart. No handshakes or embraces. It seems that the virus targets vulnerable people, already experiencing other issues. However, the saddest statistic of all is that the virus seems to highlight socioeconomic hardship, particularly in the US, where the richer you are the more chances you have of surviving. Poorer sections of the population, without the healthcare coverage or the confidence in the system to protect them, seem to be suffering the most. There are those that will point out New York City as dispelling this hyperbole. However, put that city’s stats under the microscope and you’ll find that the poorest boroughs are suffering the most. I’m not a professor, doctor or any kind of specialist. I fly a plane. It is still clear to me that once again we are conveniently escaping the harsh reality of the system in the US. The wealthy and mainly white middle class, of which I would likely be classed as a member, are getting away with it, for the most part, and the financially poorer of those in our society are suffering simply because of their status. 

Well, I hear you mutter, what are you going to do about it?? I don’t know yet. I don’t know what I can do yet. I don’t know what my first step will be yet. I am writing this out to help with that. Perhaps I will get the virus and get to see firsthand how some benefit from status and some don’t. Without that experience, I can tell you for sure. I can only provide conjecture.

Now on to the other virus. Racism in the world. I live in Minneapolis, the epicenter of what will likely become known as some form of revolution of 2020. A human revolution, or even, evolution. 

Two weeks ago George Floyd was murdered by a policeman, not 3 miles from where I am sitting now. The policeman stood, or knelt, on his neck for 8mins and 35seconds. He cried out for him to stop. He didn’t. What followed was 7 days of civil unrest that we haven’t seen since the 1960’s (a time I wasn’t even alive). It spread far across the country. Particular damage was done in Minneapolis, where citizens rioted for many nights in a row. Property was damaged. Lives were lost.

Then the world began to awaken. At least, I hope it has. We are only a couple of weeks in to this new new world. People like myself, middle class and white, are asking ourselves some very uncomfortable questions. It took me a number of days to come to terms with what my role was in all of this. Sure, I could exclaim the standard rhetoric, but anyone can read a meme and share it, without believing in it. I was very uncomfortable and uneasy with where I sat and how I was reacting. However, I found myself fatigue ridden with the awkward and uncomfortable feelings I was experiencing. I was only dealing with this for a week! African American and other minorities have been dealing with this fatigue for centuries! And here I am whining about dealing with it for a week. 

I’m still not convinced about which lane I will ride it on my journey to helping society to fix the broken system we clearly live in. I know that voting this year will be of upmost importance. Probably the most significant vote in my lifetime. I am decided that I will act accordingly and ensure others have the information they need to act similarly. Your biggest power comes from your vote, from the most local of elections to the highest of offices.

It’s easy to talk a good game. I need to put that in to practice. Writing about it might be the way to hold myself accountable. I don’t know yet, but I’m ready to find out.

Good luck to us all!

P.s. I don’t proof read these things, or reread what I’ve written. It is as it comes out of the keyboard. Forgive it all or don’t. It’s up to you.

No more Marseillaise

Writing can tend to come in fits and starts. It’s definitely therapeutic but first the one on the receiving end has to be ready to receive. Hence why there hasn’t been an entry all year. 

It’s been the year of speed and suffering. There won’t be any race reporting or details in this post. Simply a constant flow of mental regurgitation on the minimalist thoughts that bloomed from this years work. 

This year has been a progressive step backwards towards achieving the goal of gaining speed over the shorter and middle distances. At least that what you tell yourself, when in actuality, it was suggested to you that it would be in your better interests not to do an Ironman this year...or else....he says nervously. 

There is a level of joy to be found in returning to the distances that started it all. Much like finding some old favourites in the attic after times long by. A sense of familiarity that brings an ease and sense of relaxation to the affair. With that relaxing affect comes a mental ease that frees the mind up to travel faster and quicker and stronger. 

The speed on the bike and the ability to translate that to a subsequent run leg has been the most notable change. It seems to be an air of confidence when riding that has been the change. Perhaps it has always been there, lurking in the shadows of the mind, but being crowded out by a business of concerns that are unhelpful to racing. 

There were a few times when exiting the water in to T1 when there were almost all the bikes remaining and the rubber hit the pothole ridden roads only to not have the familiar sounds of a whizzing disc wheel approaching from behind. It was an entirely addicting feeling, realizing that there was certainly potential in the old legs yet. The Marseillaise wasn’t even heard once! 

What has shown to be a true, thanks to consistent and reliable coaching from the boss man, is the reliable running legs coming true each time. The harder biking has certainly drawn questions when leaving T2 with grand designs of gliding across the hard top, gracefully passing my competitors. At least that’s what happens in my mind. Yet, after a mile or so of wobbly legs and wonder as to whether the old trotters would come good, slowly and assuredly the turn over would increase and the speed would return. The American Triple T was the first sign that the strength I never thought I had was there. A small peaking from behind the trees to let me know it was there. Subsequent races illuminated the strength in the shadows, breaking the Olympic personal best and coming within a few minutes of the half Ironman PB (on a far more difficult course compared to the flat as pancake race the PB was set in). 

This all has now provided the confidence needed to chase a full distance race in 2019 at the glorious venue that is Roth. An epic triathlon event that is sure not to disappoint. 

The legs are still there for a little bit longer this season, with an eye on the late season race, as the leaves slowly begin to turn their stunning spectrum of colours, indicating that the time of year has arrived when rest and relaxation is required. This R&R will give way to the winter block that will lay down the foundations for 2019’s challenges. To be honest, I can’t wait. 

Good luck to us all!

Getting away with it

It has been a while since last writing my thoughts in to the digital diary which, lets be honest, this effectively is. Since October, the snow has come and is still coming, Donald Trump hasn't yet been impeached, Putin is still secretly plotting to annihilate everyone, Facebook has stolen all our data and Harvey Weinstein is still a perv.

What has also occurred, but with far less fanfare and importance, is training for the London Marathon and forthcoming triathlon season. As has been mentioned before on this blog, the winter training brings the chance of reflection. The long indoor sessions, cowering from Winter's chill, leaves a lot of time to reflect on the ripples that life's pond presents to us. This winter has been no different.

There is plenty of mindless sweating and exertion that happens as the peddles spin and the music blares. Yet, it is particularly during the ever lengthening runs that reflection is strongest. As fatigue naturally sets in during the later stages of a particularly long run, the mind will wonder on a every winding path to nowhere and everywhere.

One particular theme that is on the reoccurring track that seems to play on endless repeat in my ears is the theme of appreciation. Admittedly, no coincidence that this is currently the theme of my guided meditation. However, there is an element that plays out in the behind the scenes footage of my mind. The Avett Borthers have a beautifully, poignant song on their current album called "No hard feelings". It's playing in my ears as I type. The song's lyrics resonate well in a life that has been somewhat jostled in the last few years. It explores many themes, but appreciation is one that rests within me the most.

It's not the "oh, I so appreciate my where I find myself today", or, "I really appreciate that" type of saying. Yet, it's more of a getting away with it appreciated. It's like a walk through a jungle full of hazards and waiting for something to strike you down, but forever dodging each proverbial bullet. There was indeed one massive strike in that jungle 3 years ago when my father died way too early. There's no doubt that it left an indelible mark in my ledger. However, with that exception, it feels like this life that has been presented is one of "getting away with it". I have been put in a position of security and safety, somehow, and it seems like I'm just getting away with it. This particularly popped up on to the film screen of life last night whilst playing indoor footie. My body has been letting me get away with plenty for the last few decades. Last night however, it was the first time I wondered to myself whether my ankles would have many more games in the tank. That is a fucking depressing thought to have.

There are many more miles left in the straight and narrow, singular approach that triathlon and long distance is. Yet, the side to side and gyrating side of sport may not be long in to my future. This is what brings that thought of getting away with it to the forefront of my mind. Meditation currently asks the question "what is it that you truly appreciate in life"? However, this reflection shows ripples that ask the other form of that question: what have I gotten away with for so long? People will argue you that this is indeed a odd form of appreciation, which is a fair point. However, the approach can be slightly different.

In two weeks, I'm sure I will have plenty of time to reflect further on this question bouncing around in my mind as I run the London Marathon. I can not wait for the experience. It is sure to be one like nothing ever experienced. Hopefully, the body will hold true and the ankles stay strong for the long run around London. Crossing that finish line will signal that the season is well and truly underway and the only thing standing between me and a long season of racing is work. The schedule is attempting to race 4 half IM distance races in 6 weeks, which, quite frankly, was a mistake at the time but is now a "fun" challenge. It shall be a lesson is recovery and intelligent training and racing. We shall see if I possess either. This endurance lark is a trip in to the unknown. I don't feel the need to see if i can go further, but whether we can reshuffle and reinvent how the endurance is tested. Some would argue it is a form of therapy. It's easy to see their reasoning, but if it works, it's probably the most expensive therapy in history and insurance isn't covering this one.

The London race report should be the next to follow. If my mind during the long runs is anything to go by, there is sure to be some mental stories to tell, along with the external ones.

Good luck to us all!

 (I don't proof this shite. So all the mistakes are unintentional and pure written diarrhea)

London Beckons

Kona Ironman World Champs was last week. I don't have any desires to go out there or even qualify, in particular. Offer me a spot I doubt I would say no, however, I lack the desire to put the extreme effort in to set a qualifying time and then pay the exorbitant fees to get there.

That said, one of the flames that begins to burn in the pit of my stomach ignites when the pre-race coverage begins, listening and watching the race and it's interviews of all those involved. It is enjoyable! It lights up that flame and throws my eyes towards next years calendar and starts my mind running through dates and potential races.

It is exciting. Planning out the season and envisioning the thrill that is gained from being in a race. The training is just collateral damage resulting from that desire. There are many who will play it cool and act the hard man or woman in the transition area, but make no mistake that we all love the thrill of the race and the desire to match ourselves against others to see who can go the fastest. Fortunately, by being in the middle of the pack, half the field is eliminated from that race which makes it so much easier. Ha!

To be honest, post ironman this year, my desire to race was naturally waning. Even though the ideal race at that distance had peaked it's head above the horizon, like the sun cresting at dawn, which had indeed emboldened my desire to go faster at the distance,  my eyes weren't searching for the next iron distance race. In all honesty, there was a lack of direction at all. Then an email hit my inbox that livened things up a bit.

Two things happened at the beginning of October. In that first week back from vacation, we raced at 10 mile race that was a smash and garb of a race. One and a quarter hours later and it's all over, back in time for coffee and cake. A run that you can just leave it all out there and know you won't do too much damage. Sadly Napoleon did his usual 2 minutes faster that me ;)

The next thing to happen the Monday after as I looked through tired eyes at emails, was one entitled London Marathon. It had, in fact, slipped my mind that the ballot was even approaching, but this year it would appear success awaited. A scanned picture of the front of the "YOU'RE IN" magazine was attached to the email from my mum and suddenly that flame exploded in to a bonfire. I would get the chance to race one of the most famous marathons of all. What a treat!

The brain immediately started in to over drive and the desire to race came rushing back like a flash flood flowing down an Arizona washout - and to race faster at that.

Our coach is a firm believer in spending October taking it easy and dropping down all the volume in the world. To get the athletes under his charge to begin to chomp at the bit like horses awaiting the starting gates to open. And it works. The team members and, if I'm honest, myself included are checking to see when the November schedules will be loaded so we can begin to start chipping away at that fitness iceberg to set ourselves back up for the next season. It's somewhat ironic though, as we all swear, sweat and suffer during those winter months spent in the dark basements on the trainer or out in the freezing cold pounding the ice-ridden pavements, or spending an eternity getting in to the seemingly frozen over pools. Yet there is no denying that in some twisted way, we all love it. No matter what someone tells you, they love it, otherwise they wouldn't do it. Simple really.

Okay, I'm off to stare at the calendar a little more and enter some races.

Good luck to us all!

Ironman Coeur D'Alene Race Report

Ironman Coeur D'Alene race report: an unexpected and welcome surprise.
Despite all the hype about ironman CDA's weather, we have done this twice now and each time it has been 108F and 95F temp with abundant sunshine.
The swim started early this year at 6am, so we were up and at them by 4am. I slept surprisingly well and have worked hard on pre-race and race day chimp brain for the last 6 months and it seems to have paid off.
Got in the water to the promise of no wind, thus no chop. Complete tosh. Despite no wind, there was plenty of chop. Fortunately, the swim is my stronger discipline and it doesn't bother me. It is the clearest of lakes (30ft vis at least) and with a temp of 70F at beachside, the swim was brilliant for me. Came out in 1hr 07min which is slower than I would have ideally liked, but for the effort, quite pleased.

My least favourite part: The Bike. With 1,553m of climbing, this course is a challenge. Long climbs, but equally long descents and with some good enough areas to time trial, does make it a fun course. However, my chimp brain hates the long bike and convinces itself that death will be imminent and why oh why would anyone want to bike this long. 3/4s of the way round I had a sobering experience. No more than a few hundred yards ahead me, at the bottom of the descent, another racer of cleaned out by a car. Bike and him, sadly thrown high in to the air. As we all hit the brakes, I was thankful to see him awake, despite in pain, and I hear he is okay. However, with that experience, I quickly righted the brain shipwreck and got a hold of myself. Gave myself a proverbial slap in the face and started to bike. I would have liked to come in under 7hrs, but knocking off 45mins from the last time I biked this course, I was amazed to see 7hr04mins on the clock. However, as I entered transition, I wondered whether a run was even possible.

With the promise of no more biking and some great race support, the legs began to move and move they did. The run is 3 loops and reasonably flat, with some rolling. The town really embraces this race and every corner provides an opportunity to cool down. My nutrition was being absorbed well. They say never trust a fart in an ironman. Well, I did and was fortunate ;). Upon the realization that hammer was not going to work today, I switched to my emergency gels which did the trick. Combined with coke and normal on course food, the energy levels were kept up.

I awaited the bonk that never came and then outbound on the final lap my wonderful wife stated "I would need to burn some matches to take it under 13". I couldn't imagine what she was talking about, as I felt that was long since forgotten. (I wasn't looking at my watch, that much). Then Vincent mumbled something to me when I stopped to chat and with him sending me off running, I thought "hmmm".

As the wheels hadn't fallen off for some reason, I pushed on, raising the pace, when I heard someone shout out the time to another racer. 6:37pm. I thought he must be wrong, but he wasn't. That was all I needed to really grab the last 3 miles by the scruff of the neck. I ended up running the last 10k faster than my first and was elated to cross the line in 12:48. To be this is perspective for coach Rob's fine efforts with us, my previous best finish was 13hr55. The last time I ran this course, my finish was 14hr34. That's a 1hr 45min improvement. Massive!

I learned that biking well, so that you can run even better is the key. I learned that I am still not mentally there for biking, but can now see that I can bike better than I think I can. I learned that I really can run off the bike, despite my self doubt. Additionally, I learned that you should never promise to not do an ironman again during the bike leg :)

This was an amazing experience for me personally and there was plenty of emotion across the finish line. I am still in disbelief today. Thank you to the group and coach for such great support. I better start to work on convincing my wife to do another.

Good luck to us all

 ALL PHOTOS CREDIT TO MITCH BOWERS OF IMAGEWERX PHOTOGRAPHY

Overtraining and tapering

It is this time of year when iron distance triathletes come to love and hate. We love the idea that tapering is just around the corner, but we come to loathe the final push in the training.

Blog

The body is tired. The mind is fatigued. Yet, there is huge motivation at the knowledge that the end is but a few weeks away. The threat is to be so motivated that you ignore your body calling out for a change in the schedule or a reduction in the load. 

Many will argue that at this point you are fit enough to race the longest day and that it really doesn't matter what you do, no amount of physical fitness can be gained. There is an element of psychological fitness yet to be achieved, whether it's from the strength that it takes to walk away from a session when you know your body isn't ready for it, or from the power of knowing you can finish a long swim without a wetsuit to guide you. Whichever the case, there are still goals to be achieved and training session to be accomplished. 

Admittedly, racing a half iron distance race 4 weeks from Ironman was not ideal. It required and continues to require a smart and thoughtful approach as to how you recover and train immediately following the race. It was always unlikely that I possessed the self restraint to dial the run intensity back during the 3rd leg of Sunday's race. Perhaps a little naive of me to think I would. The race went very well and a significant improvement on a personal best was achieved. However, now 8 days post race, it is apparent that there was a price to be paid. Having awoken to high fatigue after good nights sleep 2 days in a row, it became very apparent that time off of training was what the doctor was ordering. Stepping away was the right move and enjoying a trip with my wife was the right medicine. A long run was on the menu for yesterday and was completed. However, it became quite apparent that the legs still had a way to go to achieve full race recovery. The second half of the run felt like the second half of the Ironman marathon. That said, a lot was accomplished during this tough effort. I learned that despite tired muscles, I could still maintain pace and be consistent, which is a key element to a good iron distance run. Simply put, it's who slows down the least. The mental boost I received from yesterday, I believe, will far outweigh the cost of extra recovery today. With my trusty lovely lady biking beside me, it was the toughest of runs, with the most satisfying results. 

The next few days sees a bit of adjustment needed. Volume needs to be dialed down to a recovery level, with a new order of a 3 week taper towards Ironman CDA. This is the 2nd best part of iron distance training (1st one is the finishing line). Knowing that short 3 or 2 hr rides are merely a week away is enough to drag any overstrained triathlete out of the mire. It's the most fun we will have since last December! Can't wait. 

The next week will also be spent figuring out the enjoyable parts of race week. Lodging, BBQs, socializing and enjoyment. 

I just can't wait to arrive and absorb all the fun energy that surrounds race week. I used to fear it. Now, it's time to embrace it. The first few times you get the emails with the athlete guide, within which is the course info, a sudden surge is felt within you as the realization kicks in that soon you will be out there on that imaginary red line, racing the longest day. 

Here's a link to that imaginary line. 

Ironman Coeur d'Alene Map

https://goo.gl/maps/zZccMA2WrL72

And here's a fun finishing pic. Look at that time!

Good luck to us all!

Chisago Toughman - Half distance

There are those that are close to me that happily argue that this kind of effort always existed, but the chimp brain that controlled the output of effort had such a strangle hold on the willingness for muscle output that a performance was always left wanting. Well, professor brain had boss rights yesterday!

This was not a winning performance as far as awards go, but it was winning brain award, in the fight between chimp brain and professor brain. It's been a struggle heavily dominated by the rampant chimp that bounces out of control in my mind during races. If you could project my race mind, I suspect the audience would feel like they are watching a steroidle version of Gravity in 3-D and end up vomiting all over the theatre. No a good ending. Although Mr Chimp brain was still very much loose and out and about bouncing from one proverbial branch to another, the professor brain very much had a leash around the chimps neck, keeping him in check. This allowed my professor to dictate the day and control my effort outputs. Now, this may sound like a controlling of the reigning it in sense, however, it is quite the opposite. Imagine the chimp being the dog walker and having a unlimited roll out leash and the dog (being my brain) being allowed to run wild all over the place, as far as the leash would allow. Professor brain has a very short leash and keeps my mind on track, with a focus on what needs to be done in order to achieve a result. A huge step towards that result occurred yesterday when professor brain and I stepped somewhat in sync and knocked 20mins off of my previous best time (achieved only 6 months ago) for the half distance, coming quite close to breaking the 5hr30min barrier.

Chisago Toughman bike course definitely lends itself to some fast biking and racing, but that's why we do it. To go fast breads the confidence and foundation for the professor to be boss come race day. The swim was so warm that wetsuits weren't allowed (for those wanting their time to count) which led t a somewhat slow swim for me, but considering I swam the same time in Ohio with a wetsuit, I can't complain too much. To be honest, even in my skin suit it was very warm in there and I felt my effort was about right for the day.





Once we hit the bike, despite a techy balls up, I had a feeling that the bike would be fast. Note to self: do not hit the lap button on a triathlon watch. It will sequence to the next discipline and not show you what you want. As a result, I had the very freeing feeling of not knowing exactly where I was in the race and had to rely on the course signage. As I sped along, the mileage cones seemed to be flying by. "Surely they must have mismeasured", was the thoughts repeating in my mind. However, my watch seemed to agree and thanks to some beautiful roads and very light winds, I managed to fly (well for me anyway) around the course with an average close to 19mph and finish under 3hrs, which, I would have said before hand, would have crushed me. However I felt fantastic. Having paced the course from bestbikesplit.com prior to the race, I thought the site was broken, because it suggested I would finished in 2:48 at a power output of 80% the whole way. Well, I put out 75% and finished just adrift of that. Now, I'm an athlete who loves and breeds confidence from numbers, so this was indeed the boost I needed. Wow, what a great feeling it is today!

Getting off the bike, I was so convinced I would pay for my efforts that I ran out of T2 without my race number. A mistake that I have never made in all my years of racing! Oops. Other organizers would have sent me packing, but no these fine and relaxed race organizers from Wisconsin. Phew.

I hit the run taking the usual first mile to let the heart settle down from the excitement of T2 and settle in to my stride. Following the suggested pacing plan from the coach, I took it as a 9:30min run and 30sec walk for the first 10K and then kicked the shackles off and went for it. Simultaneously, I spotted Victory up ahead, figuratively and literally, allowing the increase in pace to come easily. The temps were beginning to climb out on the not-so-shaded , with ice from aid stations providing the relief that was needed. The proof is in the pudding - the first 10K took 1hr. The second took 54mins! A negative split for the first time. A result of some great coaching and some good work from professor brain!

As you may be able to notice, I'm pretty happy with the effort. The body isn't too bad today at all, which means there is plenty left in the locker for 4 weeks from now. It was a huge confidence boost for the ironman and I am now really beginning to look forward to our fifth visit to the longest day!

Good luck to us all!

Down Time

As this is being typed, yet again a short glance at the calendar will show that 5 weeks is the time that remains before we embark on yet another "longest day" challenge. We aren't saving the world. We aren't curing cancer and we aren't feeding starving children. It's not life altering work we are doing. However, it slowly begins to peak it's head over the horizon and the excitement begins to build. As far as endurance sports go, this is one of the highlights for those stupid enough to embark on a long journey towards sporting achievement.

I think one of the reasons these endeavors entice me so much is that just finishing this event is a victory. I rarely came first in too much in my sporting life....2nd, 3rd or 4th for that matter. Yet, every time we cross the finish line of an iron distance race it's a victory and we are treated like it is. That said, this year will be number 5 and it's time to begin to shed the mental shackles that stop the legs stretching further and achieving a bit more at this distance.

There's been a fair amount of study and reading that has been done on the matter. I imagine that a writer might do the same thing when trying to overcome their block. I had a block and I plan on smashing through it in 5 weeks. We'll see what hand the body deals me on the day in question, but the plan is to maximize that hand and bluff my way to the finish.

In the mean time, consistent training is the key and, until this last week, that has been one of the mantras that I have held to constantly. This past week, however, took us to Iceland. The trip was always going to stand in the way of finishing all the training, but it was worth it. What a stunning, stark, and at this time of year, eternally light country. From Volcano's to lush warm hot springs, this country has an addictive lifestyle. It will bankrupt you, but it's addictive. You know when you're in peak training weeks when the first thought in to your head is, "I could ride at midnight and there wouldn't be anyone on the roads!"

As it happened, we were there just two weeks before Challenge Iceland (a race now firmly in my sights) and there were a few pros arriving to get some good weeks on the beautifully smooth roads that surrounded the course. The water temps were a balmy 15C which would at least make the swim quick! Unfortunately, I didn't have the wetsuit or the time to head in for a quick dip. One thing about Iceland, though, is the abundance of outdoor pools and accompanying hot pools. This makes a convincing bribe to getting some laps in whilst the others take a relaxing dip. I wish there were more outdoor pools around where we are. Technically there are, but they aren't as well maintained, have snapping turtles and visibility is quite limited. Yet, you don't come out smelling of chlorine for hours. Bonus!

The water everywhere in Iceland is crystal clear, from the rivers to the lakes. It's amazing. I just wish I had the time to take a dip. Fortunately, there was plenty of time to run and swim, so training wasn't completely missed.  I'm excited to return to Iceland, take out a second mortgage and race here!

Between now and August 27th, there lies a little bit of a warm up in the form of Toughman Minnesota. A local race of the half iron distance variety. Should provide a good test of how far the structured training has taken me. There's a lot of anticipation leading in to it. A good race plan and great practice for the "big day" in August. There's nothing quite like race morning. Just that alone creates the kind of excitement that is unlike any other. It's addictive.

As we see the end of August galloping towards us, that anticipation will build, but this year it will be melded in to excitement and joy instead of the usual. We have a great house and the promise of a great venue that we know well. Sadly, it will be the last running of Ironman Couer D'Alene. They've chosen to cancel the race after this year, a typical response when the mighty Ironman brand doesn't get it's way. Oh well, there's other great destination races out there and hopefully, with the support of my beautiful "team" we shall discover more. Who knows what lies ahead, perhaps Challenge Iceland!

Good luck to us all!

And...

The training continues.....lots

Recovery went well from the Triple T, mainly because I was fighting a fatigue induced sore throat type gross thing the whole week. It made taking the weekend off fairly straight forward, thus leading to a good week this week. It's quite oddly the hardest thing to do sometimes. To let go. To acknowledge a weakness as a good thing in certain cases. Surprisingly difficult. Like trying not to eat chocolate when it's free and sitting in front of you on a plate. Yet, like with the chocolate, realizing it's better that you walk away can lead to something else so much better, like avoiding diabetes!

Training is becoming like a long steep hill. The type of bill you begin straight from cold and your lungs are splitting trying to get up it. Then, all of a sudden, you begin to settle in to that climb, that increased intensity, and begin to acclimatize to your new surroundings. The hill gets easier and more achievable and then suddenly you're out riding for 6hrs and the only thing complaining is your "undercarriage". 

That's how training has been since returning from the long race weekend. We find ourselves 9 weeks from race day with a few races in between, beckoning is forward to the finish line. Two weeks of constant travel -not professionally - will increase the difficulty of fitting it all in, but we shall persevere and despite all the obstacles in our way, will arrive at that start line, ready or not. It's the inevitability of time.

-----recovery food-------

With a little bit of luck, an Olympic race should be next, provided work doesn't need me to, you know, work! After that, a good half iron test awaits at the end of July, goading us closer to the end of August and our ultimate goal. News has filtered through that this Ironman Couer D'Alene will indeed be the last of all. As triathlons popularity fluctuates and reaches its pinnacle, more and more of these races will fall by the wayside. To participate in the final race in CDA will make it that little bit more special. Can't wait. 

The biking is improving. The key to all of this, I am convinced, lies in nutrition. I believe it's getting close to just right. Bonks are becoming less and less and without those dips, my training and strength will get a chance to shine and not be held back by the all dominating brain dips. The next two weeks should give me a great insight it to how that particular element is progressing. We shall see. 

Until then!

Good luck to us all

American Triple T

What a weekend! Tired. Hot. Epic

The American Triple T is everything I hoped it would be. We signed up to this race after I listened to a favourite podcast of mine and the New Zealand presenters interviewed the organizers. It was enthralling to me to have a go at a race that most seemed impossible, or even bonkers. I think that's why I'm attracted to this lovely sport of long distance triathlon. There's those that climb up El Captain without ropes or those that scale Mount Everest without any oxygen. Now they are nutters. I find myself content with just pushing my aerobic and mental system just far enough to avoid any danger of death or severe injury, but far enough that most wouldn't even consider it. That's the sweets spot.

The Triple T filled that spot nicely. We started our journey from Minnesota on Thursday. With a pit stop in Indianapolis on the way down, we arrived in the picturesque Shawnee State Park on Friday lunchtime, in time to check in and register. Our cabin lay in the lush woodlands near the race start. The catch was that the start/finish line lay down a steep hill, about 1/2 mile from our temporary front door. That climb was to represent our proverbial struggle after each race. To climb back atop our mental steads and recoup for the next race.

Friday evening began with what I termed a "smash and grab' 250m swim, 6KM bike (up that bloody hill) and then a 1 mile run. About 30mins or heart pounding out of your chest fun. The introduction to our lake swimming area for the weekend was a rude one. The temperature was ideal, the content was not. We discovered through smell, taste and feeling that the lake was somewhat shallow in spots and not high on the visibility. Despite warnings not to stand to early when exiting the lake, some did and with it scooped up a triathlon short load of stewed up mud and grime that would redefine muddy for all the years to come.

After getting out of the swim we jumped on our bikes for a smash fest of fun, burning fun. Up and down the hill and straight out for a mile of quick step and fancy feet. 28mins later it was all over and off we went for some R&R before the next days festivities.

One of the huge appeal of this race is the camaraderie between the entrants. We immediately discovered this when we found that our picnic table represented the mecca of cell phone reception, with an unprecedented 4G signal. Word was out and the few of our neighbours nightly ritual became to visit our spider infested picnic table for a quick hi and good night to their loved ones. We met a top couple of lads, an Irishman and Frenchman from Buffalo,  who proved to be a valuable resource by imparting their 10years of knowledge from the race. Their advice probably saved us on Saturday.

We awoke Saturday morning to the prospect of 2 olympic distance races back to back, with a 4 hour break in the middle. The second race being an unconventional bike, swim and run aka cramp fest. Both races went according to plan. We quickly learnt to take wide lines in the lake to avoid all the silt and downed tree limbs hiding under the murky surface and that the hill we had to climb up back to our lodge was nothing compared to the hills outside of the park! However, any pain of suffering experienced on those hills was trumped by the beautiful vistas presented to us and the smooth roads during our journey. The country in that area, at times, could easily be mistaken for a high plateau in the french alps. It was gorgeous. The run portion beauty was no exception with the butterflies in abundance, floating around your head like you were in a dream. This being a fortunate feeling, because once you began the climb up the infamous Lamp Black Run you wished you were in one! The "fire road" that became our "old friend" for the next 3 races was a beauty of a run through the woods of the forest, but a run with relentless climbs and descents which compounded fatigue as the weekend progressed. That said, this was easy to forget as athlete after athlete passed by encouraging each other to forget the pain and enjoy the views. There were some inspirational athletes there. Cancer survivors. Veterans. Athletes who were competing in their last triathlon due to injuries sustained in crashes. However, the one that will stick with me for a long time will be the blind athlete. I was lucky enough to criss-cross her and her guide in almost the same spot each day on the run. When you race along side blind athletes and their guides you will always be inspired, but these too stood out from the rest due to the difficulty of the run. The rocks, divots and potholes made it challenging for those of us lucky enough to have our sight. However, the difficulty is surely ratcheted up when you can't see your steps in front of you. These two athletes gave me such a well needed boost every race and it's a experience that I will take with me throughout my life.

By the time we finished Saturday's racing we were well in need of a good rest. The second race's format and tested us all a little bit more than usual, although, being a good swimmer, I really enjoyed it.

When you wake up Sunday morning, high mental fatigue levels have been introduced to delirium. You begin to be silly and make some terrible jokes, all to avoid the inevitability of the half iron distance race that awaits you. A distance that we've done a fair few times, but ramping yourself up to the level needed to finish the distance was the challenge of the morning.

At this point in the race we were down to 2 of us, out of the 4 that began the weekend. Illness and snuck up on our two companions and it was down to Napoleon and I to get to the finish line. Competitiveness gave way to an attitude of let's-get-through-this-together. A piece of shared mentality that would help me through the bike and us both through the run. The bike was a combination of the previous two olympic races and the run a double visit to Lamp Black Run's hilly and gravely 6.55 miles. It was a race that you grew in to. As the legs warmed up, along with the lungs, the bike became a pleasure instead of a chore. Competitiveness gave way to contentment. Even the most arduous hill at mile 45, with a little hubris (:)), made for enjoyable riding. The day was warming up quickly and by the time we made the fast descent in to T2, I was ready for the day to be done. However, 13.1 miles still had to be covered. It normally takes me a mile to find my running legs after a ride and that was to be no different today. We climbed. We descended. The fluid were consumed and doused. After a couple of hours in the blazing, but somewhat shaded forest, we emerged to be greeted by the glorious sight of the finish and our team mates cheering us to the end. You don't get the long finish chute that an Ironman race gives you, with screaming supporters all around. It's more of gentle and, in my opinion, far more enjoyable finish. Quietly satisfying why you came to race - to show yourself what you didn't think you were capable of achieving. Taking yourself on a physical and mental journey that continues long after the race has finished.

This is a tough race. No doubt about it. However, the mental side far outweighs the physical. It's a race that reminds you what great race organization can give to you with a small event and a beautiful venue. There is no doubt in my mind that we will be back, if not just remind ourselves every year why we chose this sport in the first place and bring us back (mentally) to where we all started, if not with a little pain for extra sweetness.

Good luck to us all!

Preparation begins

When triathlon first appealed to me, it resulted from a desire not to run all the time and to shed a few pounds along the way. I didn't even know what an Ironman race was, or even, comprehend that one day I would attempt to race in a small park in Ohio at a race known as The American Triple T. And so, 12 years after my good friend Mitch encouraged me to race a short triathlon in Estes Park, Colorado, I find myself preparing to make the long, unidentifiable ride down to a state park in Ohio to race 4 triathlons in 3 days.

There'll be minimal supporters, but the races themselves. 250 of us. There'll be plenty of humidity and hills. The camaraderie will be strong and plentiful. The legs will be sore in the end. Yet, we shall have all completed a very challenging race that pits your natural instincts to race, and race hard, against the necessity to conserve your energy stores.

After the 12 hour drive from Minneapolis, we shall immediately begin our weekend with a super sprint race, just to sweeten the legs a little. Saturday will follow with 2 Olympic distance races (ish) with the first being traditional and the second a little mixed up. Sunday will present us with the unenviable task of a half iron distance race, which will be the cherry on top of the ice cream (I really hope there'll be ice cream!).

The race director warns to bring your climbing gear. It's probably wise to bring your climbing legs too. So, now we begin the preparation. Food, glorious food! However, the key is which food. The group had a meeting and we decided that Vincent would do all the cooking. Fantastic. That's that sorted, now all we have to worry about is racing..... and a few thousand miles of driving!

The next 10 days are going to involve a lot of training and some seriously fun racing. I am really looking forward to this race format, with the brand new experience to add to the CV. To go with friends and fellow triathletes will make it that much more of an experience for us. I can't wait.

This past weekend I was able to fly back to the UK and enjoy some wonderful training scenery which always makes those long hours flow by like a meandering river. Helped that much more by wife riding beside me as support. When you train and see the same scenery every day, to have a new vista in your sights can make all the difference, even if it's an old familiar face of the Chiltern Hills. The ideal place for a training camp by the way!

Now it's time for a bit more swimming,  running and biking. 2.5hrs of running awaits, with a trip along the banks of The Charles River in Boston. one of the truly unique places to run, seeing some of tomorrows future running, walking and talking along those banks. Makes the time fly by.

A race report will follow in a few weeks. I wonder if I will be as enthusiastic then as I am now??

Good luck to us all!

Phlegm and long rides

It's a quite like finding yourself at the bottom of a hill or mountain and looking up to the summit. You may well be excited to get to the top to share in the glorious views that your achievement has awarded you with, but you know full well that the climb to the pinnacle will be tiring and sometimes exhausting. That's how this training can be. It's not as much about the race day, but the trails and climbs that take you there. You're not alone. A team who are your friends and family around you that make sure you reach the summit of race day.

True, it is inspiring to hear and read this type of thing, but, as I heard yesterday on a podcast that helped me ignore the fact that a long ride was the day's offering, inspiration is a not the ideal word. You have to want it within you. Inspiration may drive you when you are down, but the internal desire is what has to be grounded deep down in order for you to want to start and keep it going throughout the whole season.

That is what was needed this week. A combination of a lack of sleep and a signal of 18 weeks to go, along with a noticeable increase in training volume led to a onset of a cold. When one is suffering over and above the training, be it daily life, work, family or lack of sleep induced fatigue, it is the deep desire that helped you begin this journey that pushes you forward even when it seems insurmountable. The last few days have been a bit like that.

It will seem sad, but true, that for an iron distance athlete, or even any endurance sport that requires such a time commitment, letting go of a planned session is not easy to do. Everything will point to a necessity to skip the session due to illness or overtraining, but we will have to overcome a monumental desire to "tick the box" and "have a green week". However, when you conquer that unreasonable desire, it is oddly very satisfying.  That's indeed what was needed this week with the long run. However, the temporary burying of that desire let's you hop back on your stead far quicker and keep the train moving. Of course, I sit typing this, fully recognizing that I have a cold, yet still rode four hours yesterday and ran with a club in the evening. Denial is not just a big river in Africa!

This week promises to be as challenging, with longer  rides and runs mixed with intense indoor sessions and some red eye flying thrown in for good measure. However, as above, we don't achieve this without the team around us. We must rely on them and always remember to acknowledge and appreciate their input. They make it possible for us to push these limits and achieve the goals we have set forth. For that I will always be truly thankful.

Good luck to us all

Smell of spring in the air

The long ride yesterday found myself and the new Yeti cycle out in very familiar weather conditions - conditions reminiscent of my childhood growing up in the UK. The clouds rolled in like a strong tide and kept the temperatures snug enough below to wrap the landscape in a slightly mild blanket above freezing. Whilst damp, it wasn't wet. With hand warmers in my cycling cleats, the feet warm and toaster like a fire on a winter's day, off we went out the door, grossly overdressed having over estimated the "spring" weather.

That's how the week concluded. The first (well, second) long ride out of the basement and feeling my first non-manufactured wind in my face. It wasn't even face numbing! Was a fitting end to a week filled with diverse landscapes and environments.

The week began in chilly temps in Minnesota, running with a diverse group, who will encourage anyone that they can run. When we get bogged down in these intense training environments that ironman training often presents us, it is easy to forget that we are the abnormals. Running in a group that ranges from 12min/milers to sub 4hr marathoners is a very encouraging and inspiring group to find yourself in. For 45 minutes very Monday, we get to forget that we are training for and endurance feet that most can not begin to comprehend and remember that the joy of running can spread as far and as wide as our imaginations can go.

A quick trip later and I find myself suffering in the smog and altitude of Mexico City once again. They must put lead weights in my legs when we land (that or the bike is just crap and out of date) because when I start to spin up there it feels as though I am surrounded by quick sand mixed with syrup as the workout chugs along. However, like everything, it is just a test to pass so the greater and more challenging, be it mental or physical, can be surmounted in the future. The reward was a very pleasant, smoggy, sunny and traffic ridden run the next morning before we left for the day.

This week could probably be summed up the vegan recovery drink that is currently being choked down, in an attempt not to simply ralph it back up. You know that what you are doing is worth it and the results will be positive just as long as you make it to the other end of the shaker bottle, even though presently you question your sanity at taking on this challenging liquid/bike/run/swim.

Many times during training, not matter what your goal is, you will find yourself in a mentally dark place - think "hello darkness my old friend" - and you will question whether you can make it to the figurative light at the end of the tunnel. Before you know it, and the negative thoughts have subsided, you find that the pain is over and the negativity found no purpose and no foothold despite the enormous influence it was trying to have. You come crashing out the other end like a wave breaching the sand. All is suddenly calm and the world retreats back out in to the ocean and all that remains is a fresh bit of beach that is the new you, that has only benefited from the chaos that just occurred within you. Simply, you never regret riding the wave of chaos, be it physical or mental. it is one of the big reasons I love endurance training and racing. The daily realization that I just discovered a new piece of myself that I didn't know existed.

The next couple of weeks appear to be the calm before the storm. Training is going to ramp up in the middle of April and we shall see if I'm still this jovial then.

Good luck to us all!

High on smog

Last time I posted on this blog was over a year ago. The world has changed quite a bit in that time, so say the least. Some things remain the same. Subway is still awful and not fresh. Minneapolis is still cold. Maggie is still my best pacing partner and Mexico City is still entirely over polluted. Random facts instead of fake news.

I haven't written a lot simply because I would argue that I had lost the way in triathlon training. Yes indeed the training was plentiful, non-stop and somewhat enjoyable. However, the end goal had become somewhat blurred by the mental side of the game.

2016 was a year of falling back in love with endurance racing and remembering why I started this in the first place. There were personal records set at the Half IM distance and marathon distance. I'm not about to enter any elite divisions by a long stretch of the imagination, but I was very pleased with what I perceived to by some fast racing. I remembered how to hurt and not just calculate and manage. Admittedly, I achieved this at distances I knew could be conquered, having accomplished each many times.

The psyche I am in possession of is one that becomes conflicted at iron distance races. I am greatly disappointed by a result that I knew I could have achieved more with. The competitive side will always give me a push along, but then the careful and calculated side of me bullies it's way in and puts a stop to all this nonsense. I can honestly say that I don't mind losing at any given sport, so long as I know that I have given everything that there was to give in that time period. That happened during my first iron man. I was truly spent, not to mention very burnt. I can also say that of my second race. A depressing testament to how I know this is that when completely knackered I lose the ability to control my emotions and often fight back tears as I cross the line. That hasn't been the case during the last two races - Boulder and Couer D'alene. I looked at the clock and thought that the mental had won the day, despite the conditions we raced in. It's time to let go.

A once wise Frenchman lent me a few books over the most recent winter period in a bid to help me finally beat him in a race that he actually finished :). They have begun to allow the first small steps to be taken to allow myself to discover what it takes inside myself to achieve what I know my body has the potential to do. "But this is only triathlon!" I hear you exclaim. Yes, this superficial fact is indeed true. However, this sport and the lengths that it pushes you to, irregardless of the length of the race, allows the self to continually improve and you will take these lessons out with you in to the world outside of sport. Mentally, this will make me stronger and wiser in every day life. Displaying as a reflection  of the potential that you are willing to achieve. Your mind will always stop you before the body does. Always. It protects and sometimes not for the betterment of the person within. Just like the body, however, we can train it to be leaner and stronger when we most need it. That's the goal for this season.

Having taken on a coach within a group called Team Oxygen Addict based in the UK and having begun to explore what lies within the deep confines of the psyche, I truly hope that this season will be one that I look back on with pride knowing that I truly gave it all, mentally speaking.

Good luck to us all!
 

Whispers in the Dark

Did you hear that? Was it the door creaking? Was it someone calling a name? Was it the chimes sailing in the wind? 

It sounded like a memory calling from the deep caverns of the brain. A memory perhaps purposely forgotten. A memory of a feeling willfully (semi)retired. A memory that releases a sudden rush of adrenaline and excitement. 

Such a recollection seems to rear its head from behind the metaphorical sand dune, peaking in to your conscience, reminding you of a time that can not be erased. A time that, despite the pain, suffering and soreness, blazes back from the past and reveals that memory like the first dawn of summer, bringing a rich smile across your face. 

This memory of a feeling, a form of joy which instantly makes you want to up the pace, inevitably shows a few miles in to a winter run in the sun. A spark is ignited as you lament on a race from yester year and all of a sudden you begin to think how much better you could do. Like the inevitably of the luge's icy run, the mind weaves you along contemplating what you would do different or how you would better train. All of a sudden the computer screen is in front of you and your scrolling through the race pages, tempted to hit the "register" button. 

It is, yet, still important to control those memories and release of endorphins, to bring in to check these desires for competition and ensure that you are competing for the right reasons - for you and those who support you. That said, those endorphins are quite addictive. Let's see where they take me. 

Good luck to us all!