To Ironman or not to Ironman? That is the question

It's a simple question with numerous variables. To be frank (as long as I can still be Nick!), this wasn't even a consideration at the end of the season and I'm not even sure it's a serious question even now. However, I currently do have the smallest of inklings to contemplate it. 

Constitution has entered Ironman Texas. It's in May. All the shit stirring has begun. Napoleon and I will be shadowing his training to maintain fitness. Therefore, naturally, the will be a slight and small desire to join in on race day. However, it is not just me. I am one part of a team. A family. When an individual is undertaking this type of endurance feet they are not only having an impact on one life. Many are likely to be affected in the process. We aren't olympians. Just normal everyday working folk who happen to love a little bit of pain and suffering in our spare time. A desire to attempt distances that most would not consider a "normal" desire. A major part of the appeal for me is just that. To venture to where some would simply scoff and turn away. I think an analogy that I can identify with is when my parents used to forbid me to go somewhere or do something (in all cases quite justified). I wasn't an adventurous type at a young age, but the minute you were forbade the lure doubled in size. The idea of someone telling me that attempting an Ironman is crazy (myself included after finishing my first half iron distance) makes it all that more alluring.

With all that in mind, there is also a time to step back and reflect on the selfish pursuit of such a goal. There is no team out on the course. No outside help. By definition we are a selfish bunch in the pursuit of individual glory. Narcissists. To simply blindly commit without consideration of those around us would simply be demonstrably unfair. One of the many things I learned from training for my 2nd and 3rd iron distance races was that training alone is not why I do this. Being with company whilst training and racing is what appeals. The race day in Henley was fantastic. Sharing the experience with my family and friends who had not experienced such a race before. Boulder, again was a lonely endeavor until race day at which point it exploded in to a fantastic group experience. A reflection on the exciting surroundings we found ourselves in. Even though the training would be with the original group of lads, the destination is what completes the journey and the destination in this case just doesn't appeal. That has to be, for me personally, a key element. Each race so far has had an appeal. Nice's southern French coastline. Henley's hometown feel. Boulder's glorious scenery and old friends. Texas just doesn't yearn to be raced. To be honest, right now, there isn't a race I can think of that would drag me out of semi-retirement from iron distance racing. 

That said, there are a number of half distance races that hold great appeal and are licking their chops at my 2015 race calendar. However, only one may be picked.....for now :). And the race streaking clear at the top of the list is a race held in Door County, WI. Like it has been discussed previously, 2015 is the year of speeding up. Getting faster and more efficient on the bike, so I can chase that pesky Frenchman down. What better place to achieve this than in Door County. A stunning lakeside vista that is shore to be a destination that brings appeal to all The Team.

So the goal is set. The one race (or maybe two or three :)) has been chosen. Let's see if I can behave myself enough this winter to deliver the body in to spring well trained and chomping at the bit. The calf is recovering nicely, so now to be smart about it all. And with that.....

Good luck to us all!  

A close miss, a 10K and some end of season pain

The real end of season has arrived. Not the almost end of season or it's just around the corner end of season. It's actually here with all the benefits of the off season awaiting. If only I would heed them. 

Napoleon and I bashed out of the end of season marathon. The twin cities marathon is fantastic event that is becoming the staple of my calendar. Such a beautiful race with some fantastic crowds all along the diverse route. From lakes to boulevards to hills. It's all there with a fantastic finish, albeit sadistic, downhill in to the finish. Sadly, as much I would have liked to have broken the elusive 4 hour barrier, it wasn't to be. Missing the mark by a meer 4 minutes. It was indeed a PB, but a poorly paced first half marathon took its toll in the final 10k and even though the Napoleon slowly faded, my legs weren't enough to burst through that 4 hour line. Luckily, I discovered this would be the case by mile 24 and the trusty beer vendor, who is reliably there every year, gave me the alcohol induced boost to finish the final miles. I don't care what people say, a stand alone marathon hurts far more overall than an Ironman. I'm convinced of this now. We get to walk without prejudice during the ironman marathon. No such relief awaits during the stand alone version. Next year perhaps the 4 hour barrier will be crushed. I hope so. 

Thereafter, came the next trusty race on the calendar. It is somewhat of a "drive", but taking the time to fly back to the homeland to run in order to raise money for my old elementary school IT department is always worth. This year, joined by my wife made it all that more special. With my parents on the sideline again (our family house positioned well on the course) the race has become a staple on the calendar as long as the schedule allows. It's a stunning and challenging 10k that I would recommend to anyone. The Frieth Hilly 10K. It was truly a smash fest this year. Pouring everything I had in to the course. Sadly, another goal was missed. A sub 50 minutes too far from my reach to round off a great jet setting weekend. 

Unfortunately, all this jet setting and running at tempo was always going to catch up with me. I tried to take the week off but it's just not in my nature. After being bated by my coworker to head out for a gentle 6miles in one of my favorite running cities, Little Rock, 3 miles in and the right calf - the adjoining tendon having bothered me all year- finally gave out and it was a limp fest back to the hotel. Clearly, The Frieth Hilly was the last straw. Good news is that the pool beckons and the bike will get a lot of love for the winter. 

For the next few weeks I will play and work my way through the one hour workouts on the triathlete.com website to maintain the fitness I have worked so hard to gain, hoping not to throw it away on my winter of relax and gluttony. Food is such a favorite of mine, particularly the sweet kind. Here's to some rest and reading. Lots of books to chug through whilst the calf works it's way back to good health. 

Good luck to us all!!

Marathoning, taper and the Amalfi Coast

It has been a busy two weeks of flying around the world whilst tapering for the last event of the season. 

The running has been plentiful and the efforts hard. The scenery has been ever changing. The first of the last long two runs that remained on the dwindling calendar was in the adopted home town of Minneapolis. With a few last minute changes, the venue flipped from a monotonous high paced trip around the track to a fast paced training run with Napoleon. How else would it have gone?? With time tight and opportunity slim, with gently bashed out loops around the lakes in the mid morning, we smashed out the miles in a surprisingly enjoyable time, despite our fast flagging energy stores. It was a good rehearsal for a showdown come Oct 5th. It's going to be a lot of "fun". 

Seven days later and the scenery flipped to the English countryside for a hilly and very picturesque run with my lovely wife in tow on the bike. 18 miles looping around the rolling and sometimes harsh hills of the English country. 

It was a perfect ending to the short marathon specific training that has lasted the last six weeks. We couldn't have picked a better day for it and the 18 miles ticked by and with the accompaniment of  my wife, before I knew it the final climb up Frieth Hill was upon us and we were in the house for a well earned cuppa. 

The following week after we flew down to the never ending steps of the picturesque  town of Positano nestled in the seaside mountains of the Amalfi Coast. Just a couple of short runs on the calendar, but what a view! 

Presented with a last medium run of six miles, we elected instead to climb 1,750 steps up to the mountain town perched above us. A perfect replacement and a final view that made the steps all that much more worthwhile. 

What a great ending to the taper and now back to the United States for the last week and the season finale - the most beautiful urban marathon in the world. 

Good luck to us all!!

Temporarily retired, but still dreaming

Even though we are now entering the off season and temporary iron distance retirement, the dreaming season is beginning to sneak in to my thoughts. So often my mind wanders aimlessly around the mind's garden wondering about how I can make iron distance races that much better. This year the body didn't fail me at all. The legs felt "fine" to the end. Yet, my thoughts are clouded with idealistic dreams of how it would feel to glide along on a wave of fully fuelled euphoria. They say it is simply a case of practice. I thought I had. 

This year's dreams are also dominated by faster times and shorter races. The half iron distance races have the greatest draw, like a bee to a sunflower. I like the idea of powering through that distance in under 6 hours. I'm beginning to feel that the length of race is where the body will find itself the happiest and most balanced, not to mention the reduced time consuming nature of it all. I just have to learn to let go of the leash of moderation and caution and trust in the training and simply go for it!

I'm hoping the first test of my body's speed will be the Medtronic Twin Cities Marathon in a few weeks. A marathon is still just that. 26.2 miles of gruelling effort when, no matter what distance you body has experienced previously, you still fatigue and feel the pain. Hopefully, the 4 hour barrier can be broken and the first brick of the winding path laid towards a sub 6 hour half iron. 

After that effort, I will look to a more local feel. Work schedule permitting, which is rarely does, I hope to find myself in the town of my youth. Gliding around it's hills and valleys competing in the Frieth Hilly 10k. This very hilly and heart maxing 10k hill-fest really is a fantastic race through the english countryside. It's popularity has boomed since it's inception a fews years ago, gaining reputation as one of the best 10k races in the south of England. Plus, it provides funds to the elementary school I attended as a young scallywag, which is an apt choice for my entry fee. I have only managed to secure the weekend off once before, but I truly hope to get out there with my wife and break my previous time of 50 minutes, making the Hilly an international affair. The last hill, a hill I have walked a thousand times through the middle of the village, is the "home stretch" and a lung buster at that. With the draw from the smell of the bacon butties dragging you magnetically up the hill to the finish, you'll be sure to finish.

After that, perhaps some down time to let the ankle improve and do a  little rehab. Yes, perhaps I should be doing that now, but where's the fun in that?? With a winter full of snowy tempo runs, perhaps the body will make it out the other side quicker, faster and stronger. We shall have to wait and see.

Good luck to us all!

Recovery Marathon :)

The problem with completing an ironman is the ever talked about post-ironman blues. Fortunately, in Minneapolis, we find ourselves in an edurance mecca. What else do you expect with a winter so cold and arduous? It is incumbent on ourselves to get out and ensure that the warmer months are celebrated to the maximum. Therefore, it is toward the end of this warm season they call summer, that we find ourselves with one of the most picturesque and well supported marathons in the nation. It would have been rude not to. Plus, I had the added motivation of supporting the charity that I have raced alongside the last few years during the Lifetime Triathlon. A triathlon I missed this year and greatly missed the team. It wouldn't hurt to find out if I can break 4 hours for the marathon distance either!

Only 6 weeks between the long endurance event of an ironman to a marathon seems only a short time. However, I chose to view the marathon distance of only having to complete one third   of a   much more intimidating distance, thus enticing in it's short nature. Could I completed a marathon in less than 4 hours? Only the day will tell. I have the help of good training and supprt, plus a running partner in Napoleon that will be sure to push me during race day.

The Twin Cities Marathon has been a family affair for the last few years. An event that almost would be amiss if it weren't on the family calendar. It is very much being look forward to. Let the six weeks of running begin!

Good luck to us all!

Race Report

As I sit here in the airport awaiting my flight to the recovery destination of England, there is time to reflect on this past weekend and the Boulder Ironman which occurred on Sunday.

As already mentioned on these pages, the week did not begin well with a virus knocking me out of action until the Wednesday before the race. At which time, the first race began, to refuel myself and gain back a bit of wait that was lost, before the gun went off on Sunday morning. Lots of carbs later that race was being won.

My wife arrived on Thursday evening which was a lifeline. My hosts in The Bowers had done a simply priceless and superb job of looking after me so far and the arrival on my beloved was icing on the cake. 

Mitch, being the bike guru of Denver, a seriously accomplished mechanic, set to tackling my bike and more or less overhauling much of it. Let's just say I didn't quite keep it up to clean, noiseless standards and he was not all that enthused. A new chain, big ring, wheels and tires and pedals later and the bike was running as good as the day I purchased it. My Boy Blue was ready to race. We took her out for a spin the Thursday before the race, a little late due to my illness and the uncharacteristically wet days that formed Wednesday and much of Thursday morning. The bike was a dream to ride. Quiet as you like, drifting along the tarmac effortlessly. This was a good sign.

As the body began to turn around it was time to check the weather. Heat is not my biggest fan, so I will often keep an eye on temps leading up to the race. The Monday before they were claiming 79F and sunny. By Friday we were looking at race day temps of 89F. Still an improvement on the 90+ the area had been having in weeks previous. However, this would still push the theoretical altitude to close to 9,000ft! Couldn't be helped. Move on!

Come Friday, Marie and I moved to our rental house in Longmont, which turned out to be a gem. That evening we decided to get the whole support crew in for some carbo loading. What a support crew it was! The Bowers - hosts and sponsors. The Lindley/Delssandris - the long time travel companions. The Lanes - long time family friends who had known me since birth. The Lanes were the stand ins for my parents who were sadly not able to make this one. This group of individuals turned out to be the absolute perfect compliment to race day and if their accounts are anything to go by, they certainly had a lot of fun.

Saturday was a relaxed affair. Checked the bike in and drop the gear bags. Decided to drive the course, seeing as we had gas to burn for the rental car and received a non stop entertainment driven race course courtesy of Neal Lindley (my cohort from last year). That evening was early to bed and ready to race. Sleep does not come easy to me before an Ironman. It's such a dynamic event that I tend, to my detriment, to contemplate a lot the night before such a distance is to be tackled.

Before I knew it the alarm was going off at 3:45am and I began my list and worked my way through it, bleary eyed (avoiding any caffeine this time) until 4:15 rolled around and we were off to the shuttles. This was a split transition. Two different locations for T1 and 2. The logistics of all this meant that extra time was needed to get around, hence the early rise. We met Mitch at the shuttles and he was in fine spirits which calmed me nicely. By the time we made it out to Boulder Reservoir, I was surprisingly calm and ready to enjoy this picture perfect swim.

As the gun went off, I hit the water and an hour and ten minutes later exited feeling barely taxed and happy that, even though my swim wasn't quicker, I was significantly less fatigued than ever before. This, even at an altitude of 5,450ft!

I hit the bike knowing that the last third was a challenge. Taking it what appeared to be very easy indeed, I found the bike doing all the work and looked down to see the first 50 miles completed in only 2hrs55mins. Much faster than I had intended. Once we headed out on to the eastern plains, the temperatures shot up, the wind died down and reality set in. Average speeds bonked and from mile 70 on it was a case of maintaining control and measuring my effort closely. My DeSotto Cool Wings were working very well and even though I could tell the mercury was rising steadily, my body was pretty happy. I was drinking close to 48 oz an hour and staying as hydrated as one can at altitude on a hot day.

The hills introduced themselves right at mile 100. The Three Sisters, they call them locally, are a continuous climb up, shallowing out three times, only to hit you again until you reach the top, one mile later. Not so bad really, but 100 miles in, just a brutal kick to the teeth. Fortunately, it was mostly downhill in to the finish, during which I was bonking so badly that I seriously questioned my ability to finish. To be frank, the support I received from my team was invaluable out there and unquestionably propelled me forward.

After T2, I headed out on the run, or as I termed the first 11 miles, a slow death march. The heat meant that I couldn't digest as much hard food as I wanted, with most calories being consumed in liquid form. This was not cutting the mustard, as they say, and by the time I saw my team again at mile 11, I was seriously questioning my decision to continue. It was the darkest place I have ever been on a run. Legs and the rest were fine, but  my body was closing down. I decided to walk a lot of the next two miles as it swang around and returned to my team. During that time I consumed solid food like it was going out of style and was suddenly sprang with a new lease on life and the run was back on. I knew I had hydrated well. I couldn't stop peeing! I realized, much as a result of my watch running out of juice, that I simply was well behind on my nutrition. With the cooling evening temps, a plan was hatched and nutrition was back in business. Although I had a number of mini dark moments around mile 17 and 24, the rest seemed to fly by and my pace quickened significantly, although not enough to avoid recording my slowest marathon ever. That said, it was far and away my proudest finish ever and when I saw my support crew for the final time at mile 22, I couldn't wait to seem them all in the finishing shoot with a smile plastered across my face.

Although I was definitely tempted to cry, the smile took over in the finishing shoot, as I couldn't believe I had made it through and the noise and support during that last 1/4 mile was truly unparalleled to anything I have experienced. Miss Delassandri handed off the British flag as planned and I crossed the line happy as Larry in a time of 14hrs and 34mins.

What a day. What a crew. What a location! Now it's time for some serious rest and to look back in great fondness at the last 7 days. What a week!!!

Good luck to us all!!

No Danger Denver

I now find myself at the kitchen counter of my friend and lead sponsor. It's been two nights since I arrived and even though the body is not quite where it needs to be, the trip seems to be ticking along nicely. 

Downtown Denver from 7000ft

The bike guru that Mitch is and has lead my "Boy Blue" to be in the best shape it has been in since I bought it. Who knew you could take off the bottom bracket!? The bike now has race wheels, a new chain and cassette and pedals. Yes, this does constitute something new for race day. However, allow me to explain. The likely culprit of my foot pain was discovered during the bike overhaul. Upon a close examination of my pedals and cleats, a slow disappointed shake of the head from Mitch, it was pointed out to me that the cleats has been shorn down on one side completely. Confirming why I had frequently numbing outside toes and a very sore right foot after long rides. Even though a change to news pedals at this point is a risk, I feel the likely reward outweighs the risk of finishing the course on my old pedals with my sore foot facing a marathon. Fingers crossed the gamble pays off.

Tomorrow is athlete checkin day. Hopefully, the weather will behave and I can sneak in a practice swim in the morning after registration which will be the first time I've been in the open water, due to this illness and a touch of overtraining (related? discuss), for a few weeks. Should be interesting.

The preparation that has gone in to this Ironman race has been far from ideal. However, there is nothing to be done about it now. As I sit here, I listen to an interview with an Australian lady who was diagnosed with ALS during her road to complete an Ironman. Sadly, she had to refocus her goals. That is, until her friends stepped in and helped her completed Ironman Australia. This is an example of the type of stories that motivate me to do such long distance events. They motivate me and bring the realisation that no matter what adversity with think we face in our everyday lives, someone somewhere in the world is facing a far greater struggle, putting our worries in to prospective. We never remember what is was that we worried about. We remember the good memories! So, with that said, Sunday will be a day to be savoured and enjoyed, no matter how much it hurts.

I am lucky enough to have enormous amounts of invaluable support this week, locally and from afar. This is part of the journey that you can never be thankful enough for. They push me forward and remind me how lucky one individual can be.

Good luck to us all!