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 They must put lead weights in my legs when we land (that or the bike is just crap and out of date) because when I start to spin up there it feels as though I am surrounded by quick sand mixed with syrup as the workout chugs along.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!

Back to dreamin...

It's been awhile. Such a common phrase, like welcoming an aquaintence you've been subconsciously avoiding for.... a while. It would have to be said that this holds some water when it comes to this blog.

When the blog was first named it was named for the three guys who set out on a journey to finish an iron distance race. 140.6 miles in one day, under our own steam, using various methods of self inflicted forward momentum. This is always a challenge, no matter how many times you've completed the distance. However, you need purpose is absolutely necessary to drive you forward, to want to endure such a feat.

There was a charitable purpose to the last attempt in Idaho. A real purpose that could drive you through the massive amounts of training to be ready for race day. Ready I was, yet the mental training wasn't up to snuff and yet again I found myself hindered out of the course and unable to unleash myself to my full potential. Another mediocre time. It was almost as if time was meandering on by. The motions being followed. Familiarity ringing strong in the ears as the course passed us by. The swim is brilliant. The run very enjoyable, as you see the faces cheering you on. However, that bike has become so.....very.....boring. Self-inflicted. Self hindered. It could be exciting if I was confident enough to unlock the hooks that mentally dig in and hold me back.

There is no doubt in my mind that another iron distance (or more) is part of the future. The near future? Perhaps not. A few things need to occurr before jumping back up that well worn path. The enjoyment and subsequent desire needs to be re-ignited from within. Riding 180KM is still something that can be fun. Heading out with the lads for a day on the bike with purpose is something that can always be fun. As part of a race, that enjoyment needs to be re-discovered. The foundations of which are in proper racing. The endorphin rush of smashing a course that you have the most confidence in and letting go of the oars. Throwing caution to the wind.

How can this be done, I hear you ask? Short....er course racing is where the fun can be found once again. Different challenges from within the triathlon world. Enthusiasts are re-inventing how we swim bike and run everyday. Super Sprint; Olympic; Half Iron; All three in a weeked????? There is no question that, mentally, I am "burned out" on long course racing for now. Hopefully, some good short course and varied fun can make 2016 a very fun year.

First up race on the calender will be a fun indoor shindig at the Lifetime Indoor Tri at our local university. Shake off the cobwebs time trial each discipline for 30 minutes at a time. In fact, Lifetime is likely to gain a lot of my dollars this year, as they dominate the local landscape of triathlons. Well run and local. That's what the doctor ordered. One race a month (June-August), with a half ironman thrown in for a bit of fun :). What's not to love about that kind of schedule. Become fast and start truly racing again.

There has been a fair amount of the famous soul searching this autumn. It has presented a few welcome challanges and has reinvigorated the inner workings. Purpose is key to keeping one moving forward. Purpose. For me, regarding triathlon, is racing for those who can not. December is a month that will always be reflective since the loss of my father almost a year ago. He didn't have the chance to even attempt a triathlon, as so many others don't. We all take it for granted, those of us that find health an easy option. It is for my father and so many others who don't have the option to attempt a triathlon, or any other sport, that I find purpose within sport. This will be my inspiration moving foward. It is such an incredible motivator to do well and not just do. It's unlcear what form this will take. Charitable? Raising money? Donating time outside of racing and helping others find the joy that I find when toeing the line? My re-introduction to this sport came from joining a charitable racing team. It would be an apt continuance of the journey. It remains to be seen what guise it may take. Perhaps it will present itself in the coming chilly months, spinning away in the cold, dark basement.

In the meantime, it's time to dream of what may come and what could have been.

Good luck to us all!

Broken, but not forgotten

It's been a long old season. The heat was turned up to seventy stupid. The roads proved long and arduous. The hills seemed never ending. Yet, the light continues to shine at the end of the long dark tunnel.


It's pretty common to feel such doldrums after a long season. Look at Lizzy Yarnold. Professional Skeleton racer, taking a year away because of exhaustion. It was important for my psychological betterment to complete another year of iron distance "racing", but not necessarily my physical one.


The end of the season is nye, with just one more bit of fun left to do - to fly back to my home village and race the local 10k to benefit my local elementary school. However, the season long, yet again more discoveries have been made. Possibly a discovery that iron distance racing is no longer exciting. The key phrase "racing" distinctly lacking. Smashing and having an awful lot of fun racing an Olympic distance triathlon opening my eyes to the fact that perhaps it was racing, true competing, that I truly miss. Flying around a course, truly racing those who come by and wanting to catch back up to them, burying your legs long past when they wanted to give up. Only in the latter parts of a long distance race do I begin to feel the challenge of racing, but if only against myself. Crossing the line and completing the course may no longer be enough. A new re-imagining of why to train long and hard is needed.


A local Olympic race in St Paul, MN is where I first discovered my long lost joy of racing. Flying out the swim in 4th place overall and then riding the bike segment with complete abandonment was a thrilling feeling. As much as my body began to fail me towards the end of the run leg, my achilles screaming at me to stop, to cross that line in contention is a newly rediscovered joy. Glancing down at your watch and wondering whether you may have accidentally stopped it halfway round. A new personal best time splashed across the screen, letting you forget your suffering lower body as you are overcome with adrenaline at the thought of truly racing against others on the course. A latter discovery reinvigorating you and allowing you to glance forward to the favourite half iron man, late season race in Square Lake Minnesota. The question bounding around your thoughts, "could I actually race those around me there?"

Ignoring injuries the whole season, say since April, will not make them go away. Works with bad behaving children, but not hip injuries. Post-Olympic elation and my achilles and hip were greatly displeased. Introduce, stage left, the elliptical for the rest of the season. A few test runs and an arduous cricket match later, it becomes very apparent that running is not on the cards for a while. Good news, they have a relay for the half ironman coming up. A "calling all cars" all points social media bulletin later and a trusty running fellow has been found. The race is back on!


And what a race we had. I managed to bike the fastest I have ever biked for the 54 miles distance and swim myself in to 3rd position out of the water. My initial curiosity as to the low numbers for the race that year, is replaced by the realization that this is what transition looks like when you are ahead of a lot of people. Fascinating!


With a solid run from my cohort, we found ourselves with a second place silver medal hanging around our necks, departing in the car to home with a Cheshire cat grin on my face that Rex would be proud of! What a great feeling.

So, once again, I announce retirement from the full iron distance. My body is quite frankly broken and needs repair. Hello, long distance swimming, with a smattering of shorter distance triathlon thrown in for good measure. The outlook for winter is dominated by the gym and the pool. To repair my damaged hip and continue to the repair of my achilles, both likely linked.


The weather is cooling and so will the racing season. Hopefully, there is a bit left to smash it around the Frieth Hilly 10K in 4 weeks. Such a stunning and picturesque race that deserves my full effort.


Time for some ice and stretching, not in that order.


Good luck to us all!

The Need for Speed

To say that the feet were itchy during the normal two weeks off, down time after an ironman, would be an understatement. The lingering and somewhat nagging feeling that I hand't pushed myself enough on the day of Couer D'Alene was ever present in the deep - and shallow - parts of my mind. The answer needed to be found as to why there was a lack of confidence in my body's ability to be pushed to move faster in an iron distance race. This doesn't seem an issue for my shorter races. Simply put, fear drives me in an ironman, which can be a good thing for some, but I believe prevents me from triumphing in this distance.

There is pure joy upon entering the loud, thrilling and inspiring finishing chute of an iron distance race. Yet, the lights dim, the pain subsides and realizations dawn on the timing clock which you saw as you crossed that line. One has to progress to maintain an enjoyment level to keep us driving every year. I do not enjoy that fear. One of the main reasons I do this is the enjoyment of doing what others wouldn't consider. However, that doesn't mean distance is the sole dictum. Speed can be just as fun.

Thus, the ever reduced attention span has been redirected towards those shorter distances that have been missing. Thus, an olympic and half ironman are on the cards  for the season finale. Perhpas a marathon too :)

I enjoy biking, but get bored easily when the bike course is monotonous. A little speed injected in to the day will go a long way to reinfuse the excitment. The question is whether I can keep up with the kids. We shall see in a few weeks time in St Paul.

The legs feel strong and the ticker is happy. Let's hope the lungs agree and let the average speed show what fitness I've been feeling for a few months. No fear.

Good luck to us all!

Someone left the oven on!

Ironman Coeur D'Alene Race Summary

Someone left the oven on.......

It's not often you view a 10 day forecast 10 days out and discover 10 days later that it was actually correct. Very rare. That was my attitude leading up to the most recent iron distance race that myself and the fellas completed this passed Sunday in Idaho. What a race. What an experience. What an oven!

If you're sitting there and have never been to Coeur D'Alene Idaho, stop reading, open a new browser window and started booking your tickets. It is a stunning place to visit. The lake is pristine. The scenery magnificent. The people are kind. It certainly helped that the entire town came out to support us, but I'm sure they would have been that nice normally.

We arrived 5 days out and settled in to our cabin in the woods, along with Frank the Rooster and his chickens. Frank's clock was a little off and he tended to crow long before sun up. However, that proved quite useful as Ironman decided to move the race start time up an hour due to the forecast heat. That forecast was displaying a high of 107F! On the face of it, this appeared to be a good idea. However, upon closer inspection, we realized we would be running longer in the heat of the day. Not much to be done about it now, but that didn't stop my worry.

I had never even considered racing in such temperatures, let alone training for them. I was even worried about my supporters who would spend the day hunting for shade and surviving their own battle with the heat. How my body would react to such temperatures concerned me greatly, but as my wise friend and trusted support mechanic Mitch would remind me the night before, there was nothing to be done about the weather. I could only control how I behaved in that temperature and to trust in my training. He's a wise old friend. Sometimes you need that kind of dressing down to bring you back to reality and get your mind focused on the task at hand. That task being to complete the job ahead of me in the memory of my father.

We awoke to the announcement that the day would not be shortened due to the temps and we would race through the Idaho hills, where the sun would bake the riders and the road up to 109F. Such a temperature, that at one point we descended and my hands were heating up, instead of cooling down.

As far as getting up and starting the swim, we could not have asked for anything better. It was 70 degrees. Clear skies. Calm winds. The water temp was actually above the air temp at 73F. Almost non-wetsuit legal. This is unheard of for the race typically cold and windy race. We chose wetsuits, but in hindsight, I would have preferred to swim without, as the body was a little toasty strapped in to all the neoprene. However, the lake provided such clarity and under water scenery that an excess body heat drifted to the back of my mind. As we glided out in our rolling start waves, you could see the bottom from 20-30feet up. Such delights can not be found in the lakes of Minnesota. What a view it was! With two laps, combined with an "Australian Exit", the swim was a delight. The strokes were moderated as the heat was ever present in my mind. Even though I record swim was well within my grasp, I wanted to have as much energy as possible going in to the ride. With 107 on the cards and 5,700ft of climbing on completely exposed roads, I would need as much energy as I could reserve. With little more than one or two strong strokes, I coasted out of the swim in 1hr 11min. A time I was ecstatic with, considering the low efforts. 

We set out on the bike and the first mini out and back of 16 miles was stunning. Along the lakeshore with a slight climb and a quick return to town made for a lovely warm up. Then we set out for 40 miles of undulating terrain, snaking through the hill farming country of northwest Idaho. It did have some great scenery as well, but I was busy conserving energy on the climb and ensuring I still had matches left in the book for the second lap. Boy, was I glad I did. The second lap proved to be a scorcher. As the stronger bikers headed in and us weaker lot were left to bake, the heat began to take it's toll. We rose like a cake in the oven on that second lap. Slowly, but assuredly, not too well done and soft enough for the true flavour allowed to burst out on the run. It didn't help our moisture content when one of the aid stations ran out of water. That led to myself and the newly arrived Napoleon to have to work together to stay hydrated with what we had onboard. Constitution must have had something in his nutrition because that boy, despite the heat and being taken down by another cyclist, smashed the ride and rode in a 6hr and 45min split. A full hour ahead of myself. I was disappointed to be so far back, but it was quickly turned to confidence when I came out of T2 with plenty of juice in my legs.

As the first tentative steps were taken departing T2, I was waiting for the knee to show it's true colours. However, as the run went on, I found the miles drifting by without too much pain. Although, again energy was being conserved and the pace modest, the first half marathon felt fantastic. The locals all had the hose pipes on full and doused us at every opportunity, which made the heat seem a non factor for much of the time out on the trail. This is the part of the race that I truly enjoy. I'm no longer on a saddle giving me the wedgy of a lifetime and I'm running with the noise of all the supporters ringing in my ears. It is such a great feeling. Constitution was pounding out the miles, seemingly unaffected by the heat and smashed through the finishing tape in 13hrs and 31mins. What an effort! I managed to track down Napoleon at the finish and we plodded the last 4 miles together. We talked about how he was going to ask his girlfriend to marry him at the finish line, which made the miles fly by and set up the greatest and most fun finish I have ever completed. The crowd were booming and when he hit one knee 100 yards from the finish the noise exploded in our ears and we finished the last 20 or 30 yards with grins as big as cheshire cats. My friends and family were brilliant! I managed to see them at least 6 times out on the course and the two loop format was a perfect way to race this distance.

Naturally, you alway wish you could have gone faster and I do have the feeling that I left something out on the course. I definitely feel I could have turned in a stronger bike split which would have brought me a lot closer to 14hrs. The marathon was very satisfying considering the conditions. The knee didn't chirp up once. With the thrill of that Ironman finish, unparalleled in my opinion, what could the future hold........?

Good luck to us all!