tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-53587218048536282002024-03-06T04:49:36.741+03:00What's Going OnJohnhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00180345730200342103noreply@blogger.comBlogger107125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5358721804853628200.post-43793032071508372992022-12-08T16:24:00.002+03:002022-12-11T11:03:42.766+03:00Ironman Western Australia Race Report<p>What a fantastic event! Definitely the best organized and most well run Ironman-brand race I've done. No surprise that it always sells out and sees a ton of people coming back year after year. I'd certainly like to do it again in 2024.</p><p>Race day started with a huge pancake breakfast the day before, and I do mean huge. Three giant pancakes topped with white chocolate mousse, shredded almonds, and dark chocolate ganache. Not sure this is what Mary, my former coach, had in mind when she gave me her famous day-before-race-day fueling advice (eat as many pancakes as you can....then have one more), but who cares. I was going to burn many thousands of calories the next day; some chocolate won't hurt. :)</p><p>Alarm went off at 4am, and I was already awake to silence it. Like most people, I don't sleep much the night before a big race. I wandered into the kitchen arounds 410 for a bowl of rice with soy sauce. I tried this as pre-race fuel in Salalah at the suggestion of my training partner, and it worked like a charm. Simple and easy to digest, extra salt from the soy sauce, and plenty of carbs to top off the tank. After any number of toilet breaks, I changed into my race kit for the day (Roka trisuit) and left for the race village shortly after 5. I had my favorite CW-X compression shorts in my Run bag in case the trisuit chafed too much during the bike, but barring that kind of catastrophe, I planned to wear the suit all day long.</p><p>I reached my bike in transition around 530 and had my first "oops" of the day when I realized I left the 1.5L bottle of water intended to fill top my hydration system in the fridge. Thankfully, I had a bottle of water in my bag to use to drink from before the swim and sacrificed that. I managed to snag a bottle from one of the local tri clubs on my way to the swim, so it all worked out in the end. There was not much to do in transition other than place nutrition bottles and helmet on the bike, start my bike computer and leave it on auto-pause (one less thing to have to remember when heading out for the bike leg), and check my tires. I wanted to ride with a lower pressure than normal because as we learned during our course recon a few days earlier, the road surface in some areas is fairly rough chipseal. Once that was done, I made one last trip to toilet and made my way over to the swim start. I put the lower half of my wetsuit on right outside transition because the weather was chilly - 60 degrees, 15-20 knot winds with gusts to 30, and solid cloud cover. Upon seeing hundreds of others shivering on the beach, I thought better of getting in the water for a few practice strokes. Popped a gel at 635, gun went off at 645, and I was in the water 5-6 minutes later. </p><p>The sea in Busselton was perfect - cool, clear, and flat. I saw a few people not wearing wetsuits, and I'm not sure why. The free speed is worth way more than the 1-2 minutes spent taking it off in transition, especially if you're able to get it down halfway before you get there. My plan for the swim was to go steady, not hard, and come in between 1:10-1:20. Starting close to the front of the race allowed me to find plenty of people to draft off of along the way, though I had to leave a few when they started to meander away from the rhumb line. A 3.8km swim is already long enough, no sense in making it longer. I threw down a gel during the Aussie exit in about the middle of the swim. Wasn't sure I really needed it, but it worked really well during the Oceanman Worlds back in October. I came out of the water in 1:14 and made my way into T1, including a climb up and down a temporary overpass across part of the run course. That wasn't much fun.</p><p>T1: my transition was pretty efficient. Once I got my wetsuit off, I dumped out my bag and followed my mental checklist: dry and wipe sand off feet. sock, shoe, sock shoe. Apply extra chamois cream. Sunglasses on. Stuff wetsuit into bag. Stuff goggles and cap into bag. Hand bag to very helpful volunteer. Sunscreen on arms and back of neck. Jog to bike. Took maybe 8 minutes from exit of the swim to crossing the line with my bike, a marked improvement over IMFL, and yet I didn't feel rushed or stressed to go any faster.</p><p>Remember that wind mentioned above? Well, I kinda forgot about it until the first time I dropped into aero. Holy shit, it was frightening! I popped back up immediately to settle my nerves and convince myself that while I'm not the best bike handler in the world, I am good enough to stay upright in these kind of conditions. (Morgan Freeman narrator voice: he would have that same mental conversation for the next 180km) The relentless wind made the bike course very difficult for me because there were not many places on course where I could settle into a groove and focus on being smooth. Every out and back section of the route was in some kind of crosswind, with only the last 10km into town on each of the two laps being a real tailwind. When we were riding along the shore, the wind was constant and somewhat manageable. When we were in the national forest, the trees would block much of the breeze. When a gap in the trees appeared, though, all hell broke loose as you got hit with a blast from the side and stiffened up to keep rolling in a straight line. </p><p>My nutrition on the bike was 14 scoops of Tailwind in a super-concentrated bottle. At 2 scoops per hour normally, I thought that would be plenty. My computer is set to remind me to feed every 20 minutes, and I stuck to that plan all day. Unfortunately, I ran out of Tailwind with about 65km to go and had to stop for a few minutes at an aid station to mix in some more. Most of it went in the bottle, but the wind blew some of the powder all over the bike, leaving it quite sticky for the rest of the leg. At the next aid station, I dumped water all over the bars to at least get them and my hands more comfortable.</p><p>My power target for the bike was 150 watts. The plan went out the window almost immediately due to the wind. I couldn't concentrate hard enough on the watts while trying to keep the bike steady and stable underneath me. That said, I was shocked to see my time after the first loop was 3:00 on an average power of 143. While it was far too early in the day to start in on the math to calculate my finishing time, knowing I was right on target for the 6-hour bike I wanted was a nice mental boost.</p><p>The second lap was just like the first, though I felt more at home in the wind because I was learning how to deal with it better as I went along. Nothing really hurt or was uncomfortable until somewhere after the fourth hour had elapsed. That's when my brain started arguing with itself over we have only two hours left vs. we still have two hours left. I suppose the one advantage of the wind is that it focused all of the tension and muscle stress into my upper back and neck, meaning I didn't have the opportunity to pay much attention to how my ass was hurting from being in the same position all day. There are no real breaks from aero position on this course. No hills, no inclines, no downhills, nothing at all to allow you to sit up and get a break. It's constant pedaling at roughly the same rpm all day long, and that gets pretty taxing. I made it through the second loop in 3:02, again better than expected especially considering the stop to refill the Tailwind. 6 hours and 2 minutes after I left, I was back in transition for T2.</p><p>T2 took about the same time as T1. It felt longer because part of T1 was the run up to the changing tent from the beach. I tried again to be as efficient as possible getting out of my cycling socks and shoes and into my running ones. Took one gel before I loaded my trisuit pockets with the other gels and fuel. Then came the hat followed by the suncream. Last was putting on the sunglasses and heading out. A quick cup of water and off I went, only a marathon left to go.</p><p>For the last hour or so on the bike, I couldn't wait to get off my bike and onto the run, and now it was finally here. This is where I know I can perform exactly as I want to, though in this case, I started a bit too fast. My strategy was to keep my HR in the 140-145 range for as long as possible without letting my pace drop off. First 3 miles were below 9:30/mile with my HR in the 145-146 range. I backed off slightly to make sure it didn't creep up any higher. The first loop of the four passed very quickly with pace in the 9:40s and HR steady at 145. The clouds and wind were still very present, which was a blessing. It was 75 when I started the run which is pretty warm. Had the full sun been out, it would've been a miserable marathon for all of us. </p><p>As much as I dislike looped courses, I found myself enjoying this one. Maybe because there were thousands of spectators along much of the course screaming and yelling and cheering words of support to all the athletes. Throw in a few DJs (one even taking requests) and people sitting out in front of their houses playing tunes ranging from rock to pop to Christmas Carols (enjoyable but not very motivational), and there were not many stretches where something wasn't happening. The surface on most of the course was excellent, although there were a few places on the road where the camber was severe. I felt my left hip ping every once in a while and made sure to keep to the center of the road when possible to avoid any potential issues. </p><p>The temperature cooled off slightly during the second lap, taking with my HR along with it. I averaged in the 9:40s again with my HR now 139-141. Two down, one to go, and I took my first peek at my watch. The first half took me ~2:08. I figured if I could hold that for the second half, I stood a pretty good chance of coming in under 12 hours. I even snuck glance at the total race time screen a little while later to see when it hit 10 hours of racing time, which happened with about 11.5 miles left. Some basic math told me I could run 11-minute miles and hit 12 right on the dot, not that I wanted to do that. </p><p>During the third loop, I really noticed how much salt I was losing. My black kit was now at least 50% white from the waist down. There was so much salt on my upper legs I could've used it instead of my BASE salt to keep my sodium levels up. I can't wait for the race photos to be released so I can see the progression from the first to the last lap. Maybe 1/4 mile from the end of the lap, Team Flying Dutchman all came together. Inalize caught me as she was finishing her race, and about 25 meters later, I caught Mirjam. I was in a groove at this point and gave her a "hi, looking good, bye bye," as I went past. Lap three complete with 9:50 miles and HR around 141/142.</p><p>I stopped caring about my HR during the fourth lap and ran by feel instead. Apparently I felt good because mile 21 came in at 9:19. As I made the u-turn at the short end of the course for the last time, I thanked the marshal for being out there all day (same woman had been standing in the same spot each time I went by) and told her I was sorry (not sorry) I wouldn't see her again. She laughed and got all her friends to join in a "last lap" celebration for me. The volunteers and supporters at this race went above and beyond the whole day. A little while later, I made hit the turnaround at the long end and took off for the finish a little over 2 miles away. Mile 25 - 9:25. Mile 26 - 9:26. I was smiling, pumping my fists, and enjoying every bit of the crowd support. Left turn for the finish, and then another left onto the red carpet. There was no one in front of me, and I made the most of the moment to fly down the chute in true Flying Dutchman fashion. And then I was done!! My second IM complete! I crushed my 12-hour goal with an 11:52!!! </p><p>The volunteer who caught me gave me my medal, my finisher towel, and asked if I was good. I looked kinda sideways at her, and she chuckled as she said "okay, you just raced and Ironman. Maybe good is not the right word." I assured her I felt fine as she walked me into the recovery tent, found me a cup of cold coke, and then went to get my street clothes bag for me. Have I mentioned enough how incredible the volunteers at this race are? </p><p>I'll save the post-race details for later and drop in a few bits about my fueling during the race instead. I ate and drank a ton, and thankfully my stomach never complained or revolted. </p><p>Swim - one gel before the start, one during the Aussie exit</p><p>Bike - 14 scoops of Tailwind, one additional pack at ~115km. One sip from the bottle every 20 minutes. Water when prompted by the bike computer or when thirsty.</p><p>Run - gel in T2. One gel every 40-45 minutes until I ran out, then one pack of Sport Beans at mile 22. Water at every aid station, usually two cups. Gatorade at every aid station. 3 licks of BASE salt every hour or when I could feel I needed it.</p>Johnhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00180345730200342103noreply@blogger.com0Busselton WA 6280, Australia-33.6516465 115.3473335-61.878731724000708 80.191083500000019 -5.4245612759992881 150.5035835tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5358721804853628200.post-23601293037476289412022-10-02T10:39:00.002+03:002022-10-04T17:31:21.938+03:00Salalah 70.3 Race Report <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Salalah is a small town on the southwest coast of Oman developing itself into a resort destination for the region. It's in a unique location with the Indian Ocean on one side and lush mountains complete with waterfalls on the other. The race was held in the middle of the resort area with the swim in the protected marina, bike northeast along the coastal road, and run in the opposite direction. With less than 800 people entered, this felt more like a local race than a big international Ironman event, which meant there was plenty of room in transition and always a friendly face out on the course.<br style="box-sizing: border-box; caret-color: rgb(3, 42, 70);" /><br style="box-sizing: border-box; caret-color: rgb(3, 42, 70);" /><span style="caret-color: rgb(3, 42, 70);">Swim:</span><br style="box-sizing: border-box; caret-color: rgb(3, 42, 70);" /><span style="caret-color: rgb(3, 42, 70);">My swim started poorly. Got kicked in the face and my goggle's left eye kept filling up with water. Took me several stops and several hundred meters before I could get it properly back into place without continual leaking. Once I sorted that out, I felt strong and composed. I intentionally never really pushed too hard because I knew the sun was coming out and taking off a minute or two wouldn’t help me in the end. Didn’t hit the watch for transition until I was already into T1, probably in the tent. Time: 36 minutes</span><br style="box-sizing: border-box; caret-color: rgb(3, 42, 70);" /><br style="box-sizing: border-box; caret-color: rgb(3, 42, 70);" /><span style="caret-color: rgb(3, 42, 70);">T1:</span><br style="box-sizing: border-box; caret-color: rgb(3, 42, 70);" /></span><span style="caret-color: rgb(3, 42, 70);"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Dried feet. Sock, shoe, sock, shoe. Sunglasses. Helmet. Belt. Stuff swim kit into bag. Fast walk to bike and away we go. Seriously, this transition area was smaller than some of our local races in Dubai. Time: 4 minutes<br /><br style="box-sizing: border-box;" />Bike:<br style="box-sizing: border-box;" />Heading out was fast and fun thanks to a 15-20knot tailwind. I aimed to keep mypower in the 155-165 range (zone 2) on average with the hills. No matter what this race organizers said, this is not a flat course. Total elevation was ~420 meters. The return was mentally tough. It's really frustrating to be going so slow back to T2 (38-40 kmh on the way out, under 25 on the return), but I knew I couldn't push it. The day was heating up fast, and I knew a half marathon would crush me if I started out too depleted from the bike leg. Time: 2:58<br style="box-sizing: border-box;" /><br style="box-sizing: border-box;" />T2:<br style="box-sizing: border-box;" />Rack bike. Helmet undone. Grab bag. Shoes on. Eat gel. Change sunglasses. Put on water bottle belt. Stuff bag. Drop bag. Pee in porta potty. Away we go. Time: 4 minutes<br style="box-sizing: border-box;" /><br style="box-sizing: border-box;" />Run:<br style="box-sizing: border-box;" />My plan for the run was pretty simple. First 5k aim for HR under 152. Second 5k under 155. Third 5k under 160. Last 5k under 167 with a harder push the last 2k. I dumped several bottles of water over my head at every aid station. I stuffed wet sponges behind my neck at every aid station. I dropped ice down back of my trip suit whenever possible. I ended up fueling much more than I normally would (Gel at mile 4.5, 7.5, and 10.5-ish) because the sun was draining, and I kept topped up on my BASE salt too. Thankfully, my plan worked like a charm. I was firmly in control running easy and steady the entire time. Passing all the people who overbiked was a nice treat. Time: 2:06<br style="box-sizing: border-box;" /><br style="box-sizing: border-box;" />Total time: 5:50<br style="box-sizing: border-box;" /><br style="box-sizing: border-box;" />This was a much tougher race than any of us expected. We knew it would be warm, but the heat and the humidity were stifling by late morning. I wanted to push harder on the bike on the way back, and I'm glad I didn't. If you went too hard on the bike, you died on the run. Practicing staying easy and in control was a good mental exercise for Busselton. My only complaint about the race is the decision I made to skip the awards ceremony. I didn't think slots for the worlds in Finland would roll all the way down to my lowly 14th place. Narrator voice: they did <img alt=";)" height="16" src="blob:https://www.blogger.com/2d24fd07-61d2-4617-bcb2-5befc2d1f8e5" v:shapes="Picture_x0020_1" width="16" /> Lesson learned - always go and see what happens.</span><span face="Calibri, sans-serif"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p>Johnhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00180345730200342103noreply@blogger.com0Salalah, Oman17.0193843 54.110750499999988-11.290849536178847 18.954500499999988 45.329618136178844 89.2670005tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5358721804853628200.post-48399334604001933502020-08-02T16:03:00.001+03:002020-08-25T17:33:21.175+03:00vEveresting, Part 1 - Training<p style="text-align: left;"></p><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-weight: 700;"><font size="5">“FIENDISHLY SIMPLE, YET BRUTALLY HARD.</font></span></div><span style="background-position: 0px 0px; border: 0px; box-sizing: border-box; font-size: x-large; font-weight: 700; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"><div style="text-align: center;">EVERESTING IS THE MOST DIFFICULT</div></span><span style="background-position: 0px 0px; border: 0px; box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"><div style="font-size: x-large; font-weight: 700; text-align: center;">CLIMBING CHALLENGE IN THE WORLD.”</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">Those are the words that greet you when you first visit the <a href="https://everesting.cc" target="_blank">Everesting web site</a>. The concept is very basic: climb the height of Everest (8848m) on one hill during one activity with no sleep and no time limit, You ride up and down and up and down for as many times and as many hours as it takes to reach 8848m of ascent. Pretty simple, right? Like the site says, don't forget about the brutally hard part. </div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">Everesting has been getting a lot of press recently thanks to all the pro cyclists giving it a try. With racing canceled this spring and summer due to covid, more than a few of them took up the challenge as a way to try something new while keeping busy during lockdown. Mark Cavendish, known more for his sprinting than his climbing ability, <a href="https://www.cyclingweekly.com/news/racing/mark-cavendish-and-luke-rowe-complete-everest-rides-on-zwift-455212" rel="nofollow" target="_blank">took 10 hours to do it back in May</a>, Alberto Contador <a href="https://www.cyclingnews.com/news/alberto-contador-sets-new-everesting-record/" rel="nofollow" target="_blank">knocked it out in under 7.5 hours</a> a few weeks ago, and three days ago, a <a href="https://www.velonews.com/news/road/irishman-takes-everesting-record-from-alberto-contador/" rel="nofollow" target="_blank">former elite cyclist in Ireland set a world record of 7:04</a>. </div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">We didn't set out to Everest because the pros were doing it, but just like them, we needed something to train for after our 70.3 in Oman in September was canceled. We'd been riding together on Zwift and Zoom almost every day since the quarantine began in March, and when we heard our race was off the calendar, our motivation went with it. Sitting around at breakfast one day after a sea swim in early June, Matt and I started talking about what else we could do to keep busy during the summer and the idea of Everesting came up. I thought it sounded fun and tough and something I honestly didn't have any intention of participating in. I don't see myself as a particularly strong cyclist and I'm a terrible climber. Plus, could I really get physically prepared for something of the magnitude in just six weeks? I had my doubts. Still, I asked <a href="https://www.growingscoaching.com" target="_blank">Trace and Barb</a> to switch my training plan and told everyone I'd try a few climbs and see how it went.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">Our first task was to acquaint ourselves with <a href="https://everesting.cc/virtual-everesting-rules/" target="_blank">the rules for a virtual Everesting</a>. They're basically the same as for Everesting outside with one key restriction: the difficulty on the trainer must be set at 100%. This is done to ensure you feel the pain of the gradients on the climb with exactly the same gearing that you'd be using outdoors. Next step required us to choose our hill. There are any number of hills and mountains in Zwift which can be used for virtual Everesting, with the two most popular being the <a href="https://veloviewer.com/segment/17264705" rel="nofollow" target="_blank">Alpe du Zwift</a> (8.5 laps) and the <a href="https://veloviewer.com/segments/11596925" rel="nofollow" target="_blank">Epic KOM Reverse</a> (~20 laps). The Alpe is longer, steeper, and more challenging, but it has one big advantage: you can get off your bike for about 10 minutes to stretch, eat, and refuel while your avatar makes the descent, no pedaling required. The Epic Reverse has two short and steep uphill segments on the way down which require you to get back on your bike and pedal. Your avatar can't freewheel all the way down, but the tradeoff is a shorter and less steep climb on the way up. </div><div><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">Everyone else jumped straight to the Alpe as their chosen route. I opted to try both of them during training to see which one I thought I could handle better. Friday June 12th was the first test ride, consisting of 2 x Alpe du Zwift climbs. I was pretty terrified starting out. The Alpe du Zwift is a spot-on GPS recreation of the L'Alpe d'Huez in southeastern France. I've watched enough of the Tour de France to see the pros struggle up it time and again, and if they're having difficulty, how in the world was I going to get up it once, let alone multiple times back-to-back? Much to my surprise, I completed both climbs, the first in 94 minutes and the second in just under 91. My aim going in was to be cautious and keep my HR at or around 140bpm for the first climb because I had no idea how it would feel. In a word, it felt <b>tough</b>! 12-14% inclines at 100% trainer difficulty are no joke. I was in my granny gear nearly the entire time and still struggled to align my HR, cadence, and power in a reasonable fashion. During the second lap, I knew it was my last for the day and let my HR and power both drift up from my comfort zone. HR averaged 156 vs 139 during the first climb, power was 156 vs 146. I knew I couldn't sustain the kind of effort over 8.5 climbs, but it was a nice confidence boost to know I could get up the mountain twice in a row. </div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">I also learned I'd need more gears if I was going to attempt to Everest on the Alpe. The 28t in the back is not enough for me for that kind of climbing. Before making any changes, though, I gave the Epic Reverse a go the following week. As expected, this route was much easier effort-wise than the Alpe. Each of the six laps took about 45-47 minutes to get up and back down, and I could use more than one or two gears during the climbing. As nice as the Epic Reverse felt physically, I decided it was not the best choice for me for Everesting. <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div>Not being able to get off the bike for 10 minutes to refuel meant I'd have to add an extra break after each 2-3 laps which would only serve to add more time to what I knew would be a very long day. The free time was worth the extra suffering during each climb of the Alpe, and if i could find a way to minimize the suffering, so much the better. The next day, I brought my bike and trainer to <a href="https://www.thecyclehub.com" target="_blank">the Cycle Hub</a>, where I'd found a guy who Everested on a local mountain in 2019. He knew exactly why I wanted to change my gearing and hooked me up with a 32t cassette and the long cage OSPW needed to make it work with my existing derailleur. </div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">Over the next few weeks, our big Friday rides became progressively longer with an additional 1000m of climbing added to each one. June 26th was 3.5 climbs and 3531m, and on July 3, three weeks before the big day, I made it to virtual Basecamp with 4424m ascent. Had only planned on completing four, but my friends convinced me on Zoom that an extra few hundred meters of climbing was no big thing. This was a big deal for me. Even if I tried and failed during the Everesting attempt, at least I'd made it halfway and gotten <a href="https://everesting.cc/hall-of-fame/#/hill/3706950209" target="_blank">my first badge in the Hall of Fame</a>. <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://i1.wp.com/everesting.cc/app/uploads/2020/03/Everesting_Icons_02-01.png?w=1080&ssl=1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="577" data-original-width="551" height="98" src="https://i1.wp.com/everesting.cc/app/uploads/2020/03/Everesting_Icons_02-01.png?w=1080&ssl=1" width="93" /></a></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div> My peak training ride was on July 10th - 5 ascents of the Alpe which took almost 10 hours. During this last big ride, I focused on my strategies for fueling and making the most of the 10 minutes of the bike after each climb. My primary fuel source was Tailwind. I settled on drinking 1-2 bottles during each climb with each bottle containing 200-300 calories. During the descent, I supplemented the Tailwind with salted potatoes (a favorite from <a href="https://jmsenger.blogspot.com/2014/06/comrades-training-pacing-and-fueling.html" target="_blank">my ultra marathons</a>), sliced smoked turkey wrapped around string cheese (a trick I discovered when reading about other Everesting rides), potato chips, Clif bars, and chocolate cookies. Basically, I tried to take in a mixture of carbs and protein in various forms because I knew that during the attempt, my desire to eat any one particular food will not always be guaranteed. </div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">With July 24 as the date for our attempt, the next two weeks were spent tapering and resting up for the big day, </div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div></span><p></p>Johnhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00180345730200342103noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5358721804853628200.post-53654143027660270182017-02-16T14:24:00.001+03:002020-08-14T16:16:35.295+03:00Dopey Challenge Race Report (5k and 10k)5k<br />
The 5k is my favorite of the four races making up Dopey. Not because I love the course (a boring stretch of parking lot followed by a nice run through Epcot), but because it starts at 6 instead of 530, allowing for some extra time to sleep in. Sleep is important during Dopey. As anyone who's done it will tell you, it's not the miles that are the hard part; it's the four early morning alarms. If an Ironman is a bike race with a swim to warm up and a jog to the finish wrapped around an eating contest, Dopey is a few days of running wrapped around a sleep deprivation exercise.<br />
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Keels drove us over to the start, getting us a nice space in the lot closest to the corrals. We took our time wandering over to the race, and by the time we did, corral A had already been released to the start line. I ended up in the back few rows of the corral, only a few meters in front of the tape marking the first row of corral B. The race itself was nothing special, though running through World Showcase in the dark was as good as ever. I ran easy, never felt too crowded, took a picture in front of the ball, and finished in 28 minutes.<br />
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10k<br />
Just like the 5k, Keels worked her magic parking skills to get us a place in the front lot again, this time in the front row. Our walk to the corrals took maybe five minutes, and this time, we arrived before A had been released. I still ended up in the back, which was fine with me. Having the fast people head out before me meant a relatively open road with not much congestion during the race.<br />
<br />
I love the 10k course because you run through World Showcase; around Boardwalk, Yacht Club, and Beach Club; and back into Epcot again on the way to the finish. Lots of nice scenery and things to look at to make up for the time spent on the road and in the parking lot. I stopped for a few pictures, and more importantly, I stopped for a beer. Keels' friends Mercedes and Angela were outside Beach Club with a bag of beer, though they wouldn't give one to me until they checked my name and number on my bib against their records. Good to see them protecting our supply against all the other people looking for a cold IPA at 615 in the morning. I didn't run very hard during this race, obviously, in order to save myself for a proof of time effort on Saturday.<br />
<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Keels says I need to work on my product placement skills.<br />If I don't get the label turned towards the camera, no brewery will want to sponsor me</td></tr>
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<br />Johnhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00180345730200342103noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5358721804853628200.post-36699791846942193602016-12-18T16:01:00.000+03:002016-12-18T16:08:54.867+03:00IMFL Wrap-up, Stats, and Final ThoughtsHere are some fun and maybe interesting stats, pictures, videos, and random thoughts about the race looking back on it four weeks later. Some are information people have asked to see, others are answers to questions I've been asked, and some are here simply because I want them to be. :)<br />
<br />
<u>Training Stats</u><br />
Meters in the pool – 219,329<br />
Longest swim – 5000 meters<br />
Miles ridden on the trainer with <a href="http://zwift.com/" target="_blank">Zwift</a> – 2524<br />
Longest Zwift ride – 6.5 hours<br />
Miles on the treadmill – 239<br />
Longest run in the parking lot – 18 miles<br />
Pairs of Asics Kayanos – 3<br />
Toenails lost – 0<br />
Pounds lost – 12<br />
<br />
<u>Race Fueling</u><br />
1 Clif bar after waking up<br />
1 Clif gel 10 minutes pre-race<br />
¼ Clif bar in T1<br />
2 700-800 calorie bottles of <a href="http://www.tailwindnutrition.com/" target="_blank">Tailwind</a> on the bike<br />
1 200 calorie bottle of Tailwind on the bike<br />
1 sleeve Clif bloks on the run<br />
Potato chips, chicken broth, and coke on the run<br />
Water as needed on the bike and run<br />
<br />
<u>Garmin data</u><br />
<a href="https://connect.garmin.com/modern/activity/1436113964/1" target="_blank">Swim</a><br />
<a href="https://connect.garmin.com/modern/activity/1436113964/3" target="_blank">Bike</a><br />
<a href="https://connect.garmin.com/modern/activity/1436113964/5" target="_blank">Run</a><br />
<br />
<a href="https://www.relive.cc/view/767197384" target="_blank">Google Earth view of the bike leg</a><br />
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My video highlights</div>
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<iframe allowfullscreen="" class="YOUTUBE-iframe-video" data-thumbnail-src="https://i.ytimg.com/vi/gljRZevnpWM/0.jpg" frameborder="0" height="266" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/gljRZevnpWM?feature=player_embedded" width="320"></iframe></div>
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<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
Official Race Day Video (you can find me at 7:42 and 8:50)</div>
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<iframe width="320" height="266" class="YOUTUBE-iframe-video" data-thumbnail-src="https://i.ytimg.com/vi/iErRmPQXcdQ/0.jpg" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/iErRmPQXcdQ?feature=player_embedded" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen></iframe></div>
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<br />
Answers to Common Questions<br />
Q1: Did you have fun?<br />
A1: I had a blast! My race day went better than I imagined it would, and my execution during the day was just about perfect. I felt great the entire day and never once wanted to quit.<br />
<br />
Q2: How was the recovery?<br />
A2: I recovered from this much faster than from Comrades. I was exhausted for several days after the race, but I didn't feel as physically beat up as I did in South Africa. I was able to walk the next day, which wasn't really possible following Comrades.<br />
<br />
Q3: When are you getting your M-dot tattoo?<br />
A3: I'm not. If <a href="https://www.instagram.com/gabrielmasseytattooer/" target="_blank">Gabe</a> can work up a swim/bike/run design which fits in with the others on my arms, I might do that, but an M-dot itself is not for me.<br />
<br />
Q3: Will you do another one?<br />
A3: Definitely. I've got unfinished business, which I know sounds weird considering I just said my race day execution was nearly perfect. In hindsight, I see places where I can save time (no more 25 minutes in transition, and fewer stops on the bike and run legs) and go faster. Mary said I didn't trust my fitness enough, and she's right. I could have pushed higher power on the bike and brought my time down by 45-50 minutes, and I probably could have done the same thing on the run. Keeping my heart rate in low Z2 instead of high Z1 would have gained me another 5-10 minutes. Add all those bits and pieces up and a 12-hour finish looks possible. Not a given, but definitely possible.<br />
<br />Johnhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00180345730200342103noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5358721804853628200.post-66382541431128121722016-11-26T14:53:00.000+03:002016-12-10T14:57:20.373+03:00IMFL Race Report, Part II - Race DayPre-start:<br />
My alarm went off at 430am, but I was already awake. <a href="http://www.trimoxiecoaching.com/mary-bio.html" target="_blank">Mary</a> gave me these instructions in my pre-race brief: 'You won't want to eat. Tough. Eat anyway." She knows me too well. I reluctantly ate half a Clif bar and opened a bottle of Powerade. The next 50 minutes were spent sitting on the couch trying to wrap my mind around what I was about to do, sipping on my drink, and running to the bathroom. Holly and I left the condo at 525 to drive to the race. She dropped me off at the run turnaround point where they were collecting the special needs bags for the bike and the run. I handed mine over and walked over to transition. I pumped up my tires, filled my aero bottle with water and put my Tailwind bottle and extra water bottle into their cages, hit the porta-potty (surprisingly short line), and went to find Holly. Our meeting point was at the first trash can to the right of the walkway exit onto the beach, and she was there waiting for me.<br />
<br />
Rather than try to get into my wet suit on the beach and end up covering myself in sand, we squeezed our way through the crowd on the walkway and found a convenient corner to stand in. I covered my neck, arms, and shoulders with Body Glide and Tri Slide, and put my wet suit on about 15 minutes before the start. There was a slight moment of panic when I got the sleeves on and realized I hadn't started the zipper first. My Huub suit has a two-piece zipper like on a jacket which needs to be fed into itself before it gets zipped up from the lower back, and it's very tough to do get it started while wearing the suit. Thankfully, Holly got it zipped after a few minutes of struggling, and my heart rate returned to normal. <br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Stuffed in and zipped up</td></tr>
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Keels had found us by this time, and after my pre-race gel, the three of us walked down to the beach. Holly helped get my cap situated over my goggles (I know, nothing new on race day, but it was a better option than being kicked in the face and losing them) and gave me a big hug. I shed a few tears, upon which Keels said there's no crying today, and then I knew I was ready.<br />
<br />
Swim:<br />
I lined up in the 1:31-1:45 area for the start. Based on my swim times at Abu Dhabi and Galveston, I thought this was a good place to be. I chatted with the people around me, borrowed a splash of water to rinse the anti-fog drops out of my goggles, and waited for the cannon to fire for our start. The wind was whipping (turns out there was a small craft advisory in effect until 7am), and I could see the swells, the chop, and the whitecaps waiting for me as I walked into the water. <br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Lots of nervous energy</td></tr>
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My plan was to relax and swim with smooth and easy strokes, just like Charlotte and Paul advised when I met them on Cape Cod this summer. I wanted to avoid as many people as I could in order to keep a straight line and focus on swimming, not battling for space. I saw a pair of goggles float by underneath me about halfway out to the first turn, making me even more determined to find my own water. The swells and chop got larger and worse the father out we went. To keep me focused and breath under control, I told myself "catch, pull, breathe" over and over again with each stroke.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Off we go!</td></tr>
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After what seemed like forever but was really only 800 meters or so, I made it to the first turn, went left, and was swimming right into the wind and waves. This made it very hard to sight the next turn buoy. Finding a rhythm was tough with all the large swell and wind-blown chop on top, but I did. Growing up on the water taught me to feel the timing of waves, and I would take two strokes, glide through the wave, and repeat. Sure wasn't easy, but better than fighting back. Once I made the turn, I switched to breathing on my left to keep the sun out of my eyes and waves out of my face. If you could only breathe off one side, you had a really tough swim.<br />
<br />
I drafted off a few people heading back to the beach to save some energy and relax a little bit. I knew from the practice swim on Thursday which building marked the exit, and although I kept a good eye on it, I still had to correct a little for the wind, waves, and current. Pretty soon, I was close enough to shore to be able to body surf in to the beach, riding the waves like when I was a kid at Jordan's Beach. With a few steps in the surf and up onto the sand, I reached the fence to make the turn back to the start of the second loop. I glanced at my watch and 35:xx was staring back at me. I was elated and worried at the same time. This was faster than I swam at Galveston back in April, and I still had to do it all over again. I vowed to walk to the start of the second loop and try to be even more relaxed than I was the first time around. I didn't want to ruin the rest of the day by blowing myself up on the swim. A volunteer gave me a small cup of water as I passed the aid station on the beach. I drank a few sips and back into the water I went.<br />
<br />
Conditions were much harder for the second lap. The wind was building, the waves were now at 4-5', and the chop was steep and nasty. Heading out was okay. I swam inside the buoys and let the wind push me to the right to the turning mark. Much less effort and a whole lot less people around me. I could see a long line of caps and arms to my right who were in for a tough push back to the left to get around the buoy. The short leg across to the final turn back to the beach was awful, directly into the wind, waves, chop and sun, which had risen above the horizon and was exactly in line with the buoy. Made it fairly easy to stay on course, though, since if you weren't swimming right into it, you were off to one side or the other. Again I used my feel for the water to swim down the back of a wave, breathe, stroke into the face of the next one, glide over the top, and repeat for 200 meters. Very very tough. There were lots of people around me on their backs, breaststroking, and/or panicking. "Pull, glide, pull, glide, don't fight, pull, glide," I kept telling myself over and over.<br />
<br />
Finally I made the turn and was on my way home. I tried to resist the temptation to pick up the pace and focused on staying relaxed and drafting off anyone I could. I got blown off the side once or twice but otherwise stayed right along the buoys. A few minutes of body surfing later, I was done. I glanced down at my watch as I made my way up the beach to the arch and was shocked to see 1:15 staring back at me. Here I was, barely into my first IM, and I just knew I had blown my race with a time like that, much faster than I thought possible. But wait, I said to myself, you're not out of breath and your heart isn't racing. I couldn't get my head around how I felt (great) vs. how I thought I should feel (less than great), so I decided to walk briskly to the changing tent just to be safe.<br />
<br />
T1:<br />
<span style="text-align: center;">Cap off, goggles off, and go find the wet suit strippers. I lay down on the sand and two very enthusiastic volunteers whipped my suit right off. I took it back from them, made my way to the PVC showers, and took time at each shower head to get as much sand off as possible. The last thing I wanted was to have sand chafing me during 112 miles of cycling. I heard Holly and Keels cheering for me and waved at them as I rounded the corner into transition where my bike gear bag would be waiting for me.<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Heading into T1</td></tr>
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</span><br />
<br />
"I'm number 2540! Where's my bag?" I shouted to the volunteers, who seemed to be confused and not sure of what to do. Having to track my bag down myself wasn't fun. Easy enough, but mentally distracting given everything else I had to think about.<br />
<br />
Once in the changing tent (a conference room in the hotel), I found a chair, sat down, and pulled my gear out very carefully and slowly. Using Holly's chamois towel (definitely on my list of gear to get for next time), I wiped off all the sand I could before lubing up with Betwixt and putting on my bike bibs. My Allagash bike jersey went on, and off, and back on again due to a twist in the sleeve. I dried and brushed off my feet, put my socks and bike shoes on, and stuffed a piece of Clif bar into my mouth. There were no volunteers around to help, so I crammed my swim gear back into the bag, picked up the Tailwind packet which had fallen out of my pocket during the jersey donning debacle, put on my helmet and sunglasses, washed down the Clif bar with some water, and was on my way to my bike. A volunteer asked for my number, and by the time the ladies slathered sunscreen all over my arms and neck, he had it off my rack and out in the main aisle ready and waiting for me. A nice touch which made me feel important and put a smile on my face as I went out under the arch to the mount line. I got to see and wave to my parents, Holly, and Keels heading out on the bike too.<br />
<br />
Bike:<br />
Mary's plan called for me to wait until my heart rate settled into zone 2 before ramping up to my IM power (135 watts). Looking down at my computer as I left transition, I was already in the middle of Z2. That's good, I thought, now I can pedal easy for the first five miles to get my legs going and pick it up after that. Conveniently, the five mile mark came when I got to see Heather outside the Starbucks across from our condo. Then it was time to get to work. I slowly began to focus on my power output and my nutrition, taking my first sips of Tailwind 20 minutes into the leg. My Tailwind bottle held 600-700 calories, enough for me to take two good sips every 5 miles until special needs, where a frozen bottle of 800 calories would be waiting for me. My aero bottle had only water and I refilled it at every aid station (~11 miles apart) to keep fully hydrated.<br />
<br />
I intentionally kept my power in the 120-125 range for the first 20 miles. I wanted to be careful and easy until I felt I was settled into a groove and could ride at my IM power. That plan fell apart a mile later when the course turned east and hit the wind. It blew from the east/northeast all day long and was a headwind most of the time. I switched to a strategy of keeping my heart rate in zone 2 instead of my power at 135 and fell into a nice routine. Refill water at every aid station, sips of Tailwind when the computer beeped at me, cadence in the 85-95 range, smooth and steady. I would power up until my HR went to 2.9, then ease up until it went back to 2.6 or 2.7, then start over again. Battling the wind really pissed me off so I focused on small goals like seeing Heather, Holly, and Keels at mile 40. They were right at the turn as promised, screaming and yelling and cheering. Having Heather run alongside and tell me how good I looked me gave me a huge mental boost and took my mind of the wind for a little while.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Passing the crew at mile 40</td></tr>
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<br />
Sticking with the focus on short goals, my next one was the special needs bag area at mile 53. As you might expect of me, I fell over while stopped with my bag. The very helpful volunteer was polite enough not to laugh. I took time to put my cold-but-not-frozen 800 calorie bottle into its cage, mix a Tailwind packet into my spare third bottle, had a few sips of Coke Zero, popped in some gum, and was on my way. OMG, gum! The best idea ever, thanks to Holly. Getting the sticky feeling out of my mouth felt so refreshing and picked me right up.<br />
<br />
The rest of the bike leg was about the same as the first part. I stared at my computer, drank water, sipped my Tailwind on schedule, and cursed at the wind. It never appeared to be anything but a headwind. I know there were portions where it was behind us, but they seemed to be few and far between. The running joke between all of us as we were riding was "do you think this next turn will be a tailwind?" as we grimaced and shook our heads. I also stopped at every other aid station to pee. Okay, maybe I didn't have to stop as often as I did, but it gave me comfort to ride empty rather than full. Tailwind is great stuff, but it sure makes you have to go.<br />
<br />
The worst part of the bike course came around mile 74 when we turned right for an out-and-back section which began into the wind, again, with some long uphill stretches. Nothing too steep (it is Florida after all), but fairly soul-crushing anyway. I'm not a strong cyclist, so I dropped into a very low gear, tried to keep my cadence up, and waited and waited for the turn-around to come. Finally, it did, and I was able to relax for a few miles. From there, I had two simple goals left: 20 miles to the bridge and then 12 miles home. The closer I got to the end, the more people I saw on the side of the road with flat or other mechanical issues. I heard there was some broken glass shortly after coming down off the bridge, but I never saw it. Good thing too, or else I would've totally freaked out because ability to change a flat is limited in a race environment.<br />
<br />
I made the last turn back onto the beach road with six miles left, and found myself once more pedaling right into a 15-20 mph wind. I dialed back my effort to bring my HR down even more, chatted with some folks around me, and began to plan for T2. I kept telling myself not to think about the run while out on the bike, but I was close enough now to know I'd finish the longest ride I'd ever done.<br />
<br />
To my surprise, I felt great the entire bike leg. I was never depressed, tired, or sad. I never felt like I wanted to quit. I focused hard on my heart rate and cadence numbers and on not looking ahead to the run. It was really really tough because of the wind, but my fueling (yay Tailwind!) kept me from getting down and losing focus. Watching people in front of me get blown off the road and crash was extremely disconcerting, especially given my bike handling skills, and there were a few 30 mph gusts that blew me around too. Thankfully I was smart enough to sit up to get through them. I didn't ride the way Mary and I had planned, and I'm fine with that. I did what I knew I had to do in order to get to the run.<br />
<br />
T2:<br />
I got to see and wave at everyone heading into transition, which is always a good thing. I hopped off my bike (no falling this time), gave it to a volunteer, and had my bag handed to me without having to go search for it. My legs felt strangely un-wobbly as I walked to the changing room. I used my bib shorts and my jersey to wipe off the sand which I hadn't gotten entirely off in T1 and could feel chafing during the last 30-40 miles on the bike. I layered on lots and lots of Body Glide, and then put on some more. I had no intention of stopping during the run to reapply. Compression shorts on. Race top on. I noticed one of my Band-Aids had fallen off and tried not to think about how uncomfortable the run could turn out to be if I needed Vaseline two hours from now and couldn’t find any. Socks and shoes on. Breathe. Stuff bike gear into bag. SPI belt on. Number belt on. Sparkle skirt on. Breathe. Sunglasses on. Sunscreen on. Across the parking lot, under the arch, and 26.2 to go. Everyone was waiting for me right out of transition. I gave some quick high fives, a kiss to Heather, and told them I'd be back in a few hours.<br />
<br />
Run:<br />
Heading out on the first loop of the run, I couldn't believe how awful a lot of the people around me looked. Many of them were already shuffling or walking, setting them up for a very long afternoon and evening. I, on the other hand, felt great. I was finally back in my element and ready to chase down all the people who passed me on the bike. The first mile or so of the run was populated by tri club tents and lots of local residents out partying. They loved my red sparkle skirt, hooting and hollering and naming me Skirt Guy as I ran past. I was having a great time already, and I hadn't even really gotten started yet.<br />
<br />
Rather than try to hit a certain pace, mainly because I had no idea what my pace should be, I ran by feel and by heart rate. I quickly found that a 9:45-10:00 pace kept my HR around 1.6 or 1.7 and felt good. Curiously, 9:15 felt really good too, but I was pretty sure that was not sustainable. I took in my first water and Gatorade at the mile 2 aid station. Gatorade was a mistake as I felt my stomach get nauseous less than five minutes later. I opted to use coke, potato chips, and water instead after that. Without much else to do, I tried chatting with my fellow runners but most of them weren't interested. Too lost in their suffering, I guess, though I think talking helps take your mind off how you feel. On the plus side, the spectators in the neighborhood were more than happy to chat and engage with people. One group had a huge white board listing all of the college football games being played that afternoon and a sign about 40-50' up the road reading "college scores ahead." If you yelled out a game as you passed the sign, they'd shout the score back to you as you reached the board. They told me Michigan was up 21-0. A few miles later, it was time to eat. I took only two Clif bloks because I didn't think my stomach could handle three thanks to the Gatorade, and then two more every 45 minutes until the sleeve of six was gone.<br />
<br />
Around mile five, the course runs through the parking lot of a bar. The bar places a flier in the race packets playing up their location on the course (come see your runner four times!) and offering a free beer to the competitors if they show up with a race bib or wristband. The advertising certainly works because the place was packed, porch and patio filled with people cheering, ringing cowbells, and giving us lots of encouragement. Definitely one of the more fun sections of a run course I've been on. Good thing too, because the next three miles were nearly devoid of people as we finished the out portion of the loop in a state park. Beautiful park with great scenery, but not much in the way of action except the party station being manned by BASE salt and their crew. I didn't mind this stretch as much as some of the people around me who grumbled about how boring it was. I like having a quiet part of a race during which I can focus inward instead of outward and enjoy the serenity for a little while.<br />
<br />
With 6.5 miles down, I made the u-turn still feeling great and keeping a smooth and steady pace. I waved at the crowd in the bar, drank my coke and water at the aid stations, munched on potato chips every so often, passed lots of people, and before I knew it, lap one was coming to an end. I heard and saw Keels yelling for me on the corner before the special needs area/turn-around point. Since I didn't see anyone else, I figured she was the advance party, and sure enough, thanks to the wonders of text messaging, Holly and Heather popped out of the crowd to run me into and out of special needs a few hundred meters later. I chewed some more gum (glorious!), left everything else in the bag, and set off on lap number two.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhB0g60yNDCszCjoFSQ6VY-c9Txam4YdeGR6ImyKkTKFzyhV4qbWu14eA8DUkrYQWYRyRUbWAM7YxeUeWDfFTgXJ1Ia-n8BApzPmrEN1RlVYsRzqE8gVHEuqBlZ6QSfaRO9lBFonMtGSts/s1600/14925512_10154238817167561_3690606289206777480_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhB0g60yNDCszCjoFSQ6VY-c9Txam4YdeGR6ImyKkTKFzyhV4qbWu14eA8DUkrYQWYRyRUbWAM7YxeUeWDfFTgXJ1Ia-n8BApzPmrEN1RlVYsRzqE8gVHEuqBlZ6QSfaRO9lBFonMtGSts/s320/14925512_10154238817167561_3690606289206777480_n.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Heather and Holly running me out to loop 2</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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The second loop was pretty much the same as the first. I ran the whole way except at the aid stations. I took on chicken broth when they began offering it to get a break from the coke and potato chips. I was sad to see the people partying under the LSU pop-up tent had disappeared indoors to watch by the time I went by on my way out to the turn-around. I had hoped to get some Mardi Gras beads as a souvenir.<br />
<br />
The second trip into the state park was a little scary. There were no lights once past the BASE salt crew, making it very hard to see people around me. I ran in the middle of the road to avoid the camber on the side which bothered my knee and was extremely cautious to avoid colliding with someone coming back at me in the other direction. My pace dropped in this section by about a minute per mile, which was fine with me. I didn't really pay much attention to my time until I made the last turn around and began my way back. Even then, I told myself that six miles is a long way and anything can happen. I found a few people to talk to, one of whom was on her first lap, which explains the awkwardness when I told her "we're doing great. We've got this!" as we ran along. The perils of a two-lap course, I suppose.<br />
<br />
I kept powering along and hitting the aid stations until I had two miles left. At that point, I knew I would be okay if I stopped stopping for water and broth and picked up the pace. From there, it was simply a matter of running and chatting with the guy next to me, building speed, and thanking all the people in the club tents lining the course who had been cheering for Skirt Guy all day. One last left turn to the finish chute, and it was time to start celebrating. I implored the crowd to make some noise, slapped every hand being stretched out over the barriers, including Heather's who I saw but didn’t remember seeing at the time, and powered my way to the line. No tears across the line, but as you can see in the video, I was pretty damn excited. :)<br />
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I was surprised at how well I did on the run. I had no cramping, no exhaustion, no issues at all really. I just ran. If there's one thing I know I can do, it's run and pace a strong marathon. Being able to do so while everyone around me was walking and shuffling helped keep me mentally focused and happy. Nothing like running down people lots who flew by me on the bike.<br />
<br />
Swim - 1:15<br />
T1 - 13:21<br />
Bike - 6:57<br />
T2 - 12:20<br />
Run - 4:35<br />
<b>Total - 13:14</b><br />
<br />
Overall, I felt GREAT the entire day. I never had a single moment of doubt. From the time I entered the swim chute to when I crossed the line 13 hours later, I felt strong and knew I'd be able to finish. I was shocked at my time, though. Much much faster than I thought I would do. Had I know I was as good at this as I proved to be, I would've spent less time in transition and at aid stations and come in under 13. Then again, maybe being calm and relaxed and not even thinking about the clock is what made me go as fast as I did. I wasn't even aware of my time until Heather and Holly told me after the finish.<br />
<br />
I have to thank Mary for being my friend and my coach and for getting me so well prepared for this race. She deserves a lot of credit for giving me a training plan tough enough to push my limits but not impossible to complete. I had an absolute blast on race day, loved every minute of it, and felt fantastic all day long. Being physically ready had a lot to do with that. I also need to thank Holly for being my super Sherpa and keeping me sane and calm-ish in the days leading up to the race, and Keels for driving over to support me and cheer me on. Finally, thanks to my wonderful wife Heather who puts up with me doing all these crazy endurance events. I'm glad we were able to find a way for her to be there because hearing from her after the finish how proud she was of me really meant a lot.<br />
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<br />Johnhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00180345730200342103noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5358721804853628200.post-62244662366496690102016-11-14T00:22:00.001+03:002016-12-10T14:57:30.732+03:00IMFL Race Report, Part I - Pre-Race<div class="Body">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: "Arial Unicode MS"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Arial Unicode MS";">I signed up for IM Florida on December
5, 2015, exactly 11 months before race day. It was a month after Rocketman, my
first half-Iron distance race. I always swore I'd never a) do an Ironman, and
b) do an Ironman while living in Iraq and having to train primarily indoors,
yet there I was clicking on the blue Confirm Registration button on </span><span class="Hyperlink0"><a href="http://active.com/"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: "Arial Unicode MS"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Arial Unicode MS";">active.com</span></a></span><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: "Arial Unicode MS"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Arial Unicode MS";">,
watching $650 fly out the window. My prior protestations aside, after
discussion with Heather, Holly, and Mary, we all agreed Erbil provided a fairly
ideal training environment. Sure, having to bike in my living room and run on a
treadmill or around a parking lot would be taxing, but I had no outside
distractions to get in the way of my training. When you're not living with your
wife and aren't allowed outside of the hotel grounds, there's not much to do
other than work and workout. I missed less than five workouts while in
Kurdistan in 11 months, whereas I probably missed that many during my first
business trip of the year to Houston in February alone. Like I said, tough
training conditions but a lifestyle well suited to getting the training
accomplished.</span><o:p></o:p></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: "Arial Unicode MS"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Arial Unicode MS";">With the exception of the last two
weeks of workouts in mid-October (we got evacuated to Dubai in advance of the
Mosul offensive), I did all of my swimming in the Divan's 20m pool. It's
designed for fat Kurdish men to bob around in but works well for lap swimming
anytime before noon. After lunch, all bets are off as you spend more time
dodging the hairy guys using the orange life guard rings as floaties than
working on your stroke.</span><o:p></o:p></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: "Arial Unicode MS"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Arial Unicode MS";">My key to surviving the cycling on the
trainer for so many hours on end came in late December when someone on the
Ironman Florida Facebook group mentioned trying Zwift, a new online bike
training software environment. Zwift is basically a multiplayer game like World
of Warcraft, only for cycling. The designers have created virtual roads and
routes to ride, and your little avatar is one of dozens or hundreds on the
course at any given time, giving you other people to ride with and talk to
while you're on your trainer. Like any game, there are increasing levels to
attain, different kits to unlock, and achievements to conquer. I did all of my
long rides on Friday mornings and got to know the other regulars on course at
the same time pretty well. </span><o:p></o:p></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: "Arial Unicode MS"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Arial Unicode MS";">My running was like choosing whom to
vote for in the election - two really bad options (Gary Johnson not
withstanding). I could watch movies and TV shows on my iPad in the gym, but
treadmill. I could run outside and enjoy some sunshine and fresh air, but
parking lot. I ended up outside as often as possible when the weather and
traffic in the lot cooperated. I'll take making a turn every 20-30 feet over
feeling like a hamster any day. Plus, the Kurdish security guards patrolling
the hotel grounds were pretty entertaining. I've never seen so many men trying
to project an air of machismo while lying in the grass posing for selfies or
smoking cigarettes twice as slim as Virginia Slims. They are decent guys,
though, who would move their vehicles to give me more room to run a straight
line before having to make a turn.</span><o:p></o:p></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: "Arial Unicode MS"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Arial Unicode MS";">I left Dubai for Orlando on October
23rd to head home for the race. I was exhausted from the last few weeks of
training and the stress of having to evacuate out of Erbil at the last minute.
Let's hear it for tapering! While I didn't feel like I was tapering for another
five days, it was nice to have less taxing workouts to get through. Even nicer
was being with Heather again. The presence of your spouse is always calming, at
least until you drive her nuts with race talk. I spent the week relaxing as
much as possible, getting my bike tuned up and my new race wheels installed,
and also managed to fit in a great dinner with Heather at Victoria &
Albert's too. Finally, November came and it was time to go. I did my last real
workout and made the long drive to Panama City Beach.</span><o:p></o:p><br />
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: "Arial Unicode MS"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Arial Unicode MS";">Wednesday was my race registration
day. </span><br />
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: "Arial Unicode MS"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Arial Unicode MS";"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4O9Z4PjfgSUMYj_l8xvgMoGo7t2LywIwGY-jql5nDHzskI-sxdrJm7s8mHindRPLo8Zh3YDen7zaVPrKAG2A5eoK1J1ImDEHt-A19GtDCCptRTw_OsYeLf3WWN5Sa30Y-BOtjdQA3eHY/s1600/Photo+Nov+02%252C+10+34+57+AM.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4O9Z4PjfgSUMYj_l8xvgMoGo7t2LywIwGY-jql5nDHzskI-sxdrJm7s8mHindRPLo8Zh3YDen7zaVPrKAG2A5eoK1J1ImDEHt-A19GtDCCptRTw_OsYeLf3WWN5Sa30Y-BOtjdQA3eHY/s320/Photo+Nov+02%252C+10+34+57+AM.jpg" width="240" /></a></span></div>
<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: "Arial Unicode MS"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Arial Unicode MS";">I opted to go early to avoid the lines and crowds said to arrive later
that afternoon. This turned out to be a wise choice. When I arrived at 930,
there was no line. I filled out all the paperwork, thanked all the volunteers,
and tried not to freak out. I was fairly successful at this until I reached the
last step and was assigned my timing chip. Seeing my name and number on the
screen was a huge "holy shit, I'm racing an Ironman" moment, a moment
which quickly passed because the next step in the process was the merchandise
tent. I don't care who you are, you can't stress over a race while shopping for
goodies. I bought the two things I knew I wanted - the shirt with all the names
of the competitors on the back and the event backpack - and skipped the
IM-branded pot holders and a zillion other tchotchkes. I wonder who feels their
race experience is not complete without an oven mitt covered with the M-dot
logo.</span><o:p></o:p><br />
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: "Arial Unicode MS"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Arial Unicode MS";">Holly flew in late on Wednesday
afternoon and promptly helped me deal with the first pre-race crisis. Heather
sent me a text saying she was having problems checking into her Thursday
morning flight, and things escalated quickly from there. Silver Airways had
cancelled her flight back in July but Priceline, through whom she purchased her
ticket, never bothered to notify her. The three of us spent close to 2 hours on
Facetime together researching flights, schedules, and options to get Heather to
the race. We finally found a workable option to get her in on Friday morning
and out on Sunday morning. Not ideal, but as Holly told me, you will regret not
having her here if she doesn't come. Holly was right. Seeing Heather around the
course on race day was a much needed boost of the spirit.</span><o:p></o:p></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: "Arial Unicode MS"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Arial Unicode MS";">Thursday morning I drove over to the
race beach to get in a practice swim. I planned on meeting up with a bunch of
people from the Facebook group, but as I was walking over from my car, I struck
up a conversation with a guy heading that way too. His name was Mike and he
invited me to join his group instead. There were ten or so of them, mostly from
North Carolina, and hanging out with them was a blast. Lots of joking,
laughing, and words of encouragement from the veterans to the two of us
rookies. A few of them practiced both with and without a wet suit in case the
swim wasn't wet suit legal, but I kept mine on the whole time. With no chance
of a<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>podium placement, there was no point
in me not wearing it. The water during our swim was perfect - flat, calm, and
clear - and allowed me to thoroughly test my suit for chafing, swim with both
pairs of goggles, and practice sighting the finish line. A great morning of
confidence building two days before the race.</span><o:p></o:p></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: "Arial Unicode MS"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Arial Unicode MS";">Following a short ride and run, and a
trip to the grocery store for supplies, the time had arrived to begin packing
my race bags. Good thing Holly was there. She helped checked things off my list
as the piles in each bag kept growing, made sure I mentally walked through the
race and didn't overlook anything, and provided a calm voice of experience to
lower my stress level. We agreed it ended up for the best Heather wasn't there.
She's not a fan of race talk in general, and would not have enjoyed the hour or
more of watching us discuss the merits of each and every item as I moved it
from one bag to another.The final bags were loaded like this:</span><o:p></o:p></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: "Arial Unicode MS"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Arial Unicode MS";">Swim: wet suit, cap, goggles (2), Body
Glide, Tri Slide, Clif gel. </span><o:p></o:p></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: "Arial Unicode MS"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Arial Unicode MS";">Bike: chamois towel, bib shorts, bike
jersey, chamois cream, sunglasses, 1/2 Clif bar, Tailwind packets (3), bike
shoes, bike socks. </span><o:p></o:p></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: "Arial Unicode MS"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Arial Unicode MS";">Run: Body Glide, compression shorts,
run shirt, shoes, socks, race belt & number, SPI belt loaded with Sport
Beans and Base salt, hat, sparkle skirt. </span><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Body">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: "Arial Unicode MS"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Arial Unicode MS";">Bike Special Needs: Coke Zero, gum,
spare CO2 cartridges, spare tube, single-use chamois cream packages (3), Sport
Beans, Tums. </span><o:p></o:p></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: "Arial Unicode MS"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Arial Unicode MS";">Run Special Needs: Coke Zero, gum,
Tums, spare socks.</span><o:p></o:p></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: "Arial Unicode MS"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Arial Unicode MS";">Holly cooked a tasty pasta dinner on
Thursday night, after which we hung out watching the World Series and relaxing.
I knew this was my most important night of sleep before the race so I turned in
early and missed the end of the game. I also didn't set an alarm and hoped I'd
be able to sleep in a little the next morning.</span><o:p></o:p></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: "Arial Unicode MS"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Arial Unicode MS";">The agenda for Friday was pretty simple: easy
ride for 10 minutes to confirm the bike is working perfectly, big pancake
breakfast, drop bike and bags off at transition, pick up Heather from the
airport, sit on butt until bedtime. I was not the only athlete out riding, but
I sure seemed to be the only one taking it easy. Most of the other riders were
flying up and down the beach road, though given my cycling ability relative to
most people, they might really have been taking it easy.</span><o:p></o:p></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: "Arial Unicode MS"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Arial Unicode MS";">For breakfast, Holly and I made our second visit to Another Broken Egg cafe. Lots of neon green Ironman wristbands visible on the other diners and plenty of bikes on cars in the parking lot.</span><br />
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: "Arial Unicode MS"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Arial Unicode MS";"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_Pbe1AAHg-HWUHYGCfjlfGIoBYxZ2h7TBVatCNDPiT2VckgcZ8ASA42KWtfVTfB12HO4gBbf67svSKMWMUAdHlaX2YjcxB5GnMrzikApDOtPQW7JAfCuus2PTxU__83MBHcl-8tqFA6I/s1600/Photo+Nov+02%252C+1+27+10+PM.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_Pbe1AAHg-HWUHYGCfjlfGIoBYxZ2h7TBVatCNDPiT2VckgcZ8ASA42KWtfVTfB12HO4gBbf67svSKMWMUAdHlaX2YjcxB5GnMrzikApDOtPQW7JAfCuus2PTxU__83MBHcl-8tqFA6I/s320/Photo+Nov+02%252C+1+27+10+PM.jpg" width="240" /></a></span></div>
<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: "Arial Unicode MS"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Arial Unicode MS";"> I ordered the three pancake breakfast with a side of eggs & bacon. Half an hour later, I felt like I was in an episode of Man vs. Food as I struggled to consume the last of the pancakes. During a break to snack on the bacon and
gather myself for the last third of the last one, I sent a text to Mary asking for help. She had no mercy or pity.</span><o:p></o:p><br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJZ1yvLuPojMtHcraEIVQ0BS1W6ZlDPn78PifAgBKUL3mzRrHAaQ5JWpacv3Z1nudVEPGvSqGDU8tnBy468IUsBJgp5HZCjtQ5hmoRoyFpvlT0Bx5wWds3gscS2KoOgqlsf5qPtg0NK08/s1600/Photo+Nov+12%252C+3+28+09+PM.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="159" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJZ1yvLuPojMtHcraEIVQ0BS1W6ZlDPn78PifAgBKUL3mzRrHAaQ5JWpacv3Z1nudVEPGvSqGDU8tnBy468IUsBJgp5HZCjtQ5hmoRoyFpvlT0Bx5wWds3gscS2KoOgqlsf5qPtg0NK08/s320/Photo+Nov+12%252C+3+28+09+PM.jpg" width="320" /></a><br />
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: "Arial Unicode MS"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Arial Unicode MS";">With a stomach beyond full, we made our way over to transition to drop off my bike and transition bags. As suggested by both Mary and Holly, I walked around many times and spoke with many volunteers to learn the flow we'd be following the next day.</span><br />
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: "Arial Unicode MS"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Arial Unicode MS";"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2hbSJsMEnQg_d2_V9WvaseQZOmRPgidV6FscvIs-p3ZfJWjLYyFPl_CnYV8ydRL_PNnz7G6hyphenhyphen5rUVKWMWO14lfL9MvdKHE66jfzcohNV_HMaBZcvC9HPmYPtsiWtTobwxSjGSgiwFMmM/s1600/Photo+Nov+02%252C+10+33+33+AM.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2hbSJsMEnQg_d2_V9WvaseQZOmRPgidV6FscvIs-p3ZfJWjLYyFPl_CnYV8ydRL_PNnz7G6hyphenhyphen5rUVKWMWO14lfL9MvdKHE66jfzcohNV_HMaBZcvC9HPmYPtsiWtTobwxSjGSgiwFMmM/s400/Photo+Nov+02%252C+10+33+33+AM.jpg" width="400" /></a></span></div>
<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: "Arial Unicode MS"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Arial Unicode MS";"> I felt like I was in the middle of an agility course walk-through - swim exit, turn left, grab bag, into changing room, exit, turn right, etc. - as I paced out exactly
where I needed to be. Having the layout and movements implanted in my brain on Friday would help overcome the adrenaline-induced brain fog on Saturday. Holly and I also scoped out a good place to meet on Saturday morning after she dropped me off before the swim. </span><o:p></o:p></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWd5ObnNSsuqBi7bUI9rEwItRV84Bjs6jlkdsoU2I9ObQ2Tixk54HhpBXdR3v3wENlZ_E2dl08p0tzI3XCaUBgXlcfmQIKescw2IEE9aYLXnT171yXr-XJ5y5nIk8I-W3yGEax9zaAm40/s1600/14963184_10154234737157561_2278416833875011034_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWd5ObnNSsuqBi7bUI9rEwItRV84Bjs6jlkdsoU2I9ObQ2Tixk54HhpBXdR3v3wENlZ_E2dl08p0tzI3XCaUBgXlcfmQIKescw2IEE9aYLXnT171yXr-XJ5y5nIk8I-W3yGEax9zaAm40/s320/14963184_10154234737157561_2278416833875011034_n.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Racked and ready to go</td></tr>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: "Arial Unicode MS"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Arial Unicode MS";">Lunch on Friday after getting Heather from the airport was at Red Robin. I know, not exactly what most people would choose, but their bottomless potato wedges provide an excellent source of carbs and salt. I ate at least a full basket, along with some mac and cheese too, surprising considering how huge my breakfast had been only a few hours earlier. Can't go wrong with more carbs before race day, right?
</span><br />
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: "Arial Unicode MS"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Arial Unicode MS";">My parents arrived late afternoon and came over to join us for dinner after stopping by the race village to learn more details about their volunteer jobs on Saturday. They signed up to slather sunscreen on people from 1030-230, giving them something to do while I was out on the bike course. We ordered pizza from Papa John's for dinner. It's something I frequently have the night before a long run, and I know it will not cause me any stomach issues the following morning. I often had Indian before my long rides while in Erbil during our customary Curry & Darts nights on Thursdays, but that's a lot easier to deal with when the bathroom is a few steps away from your living room. And when you're not going to be out on a race course for 140.6 miles.</span><br />
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: "Arial Unicode MS"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Arial Unicode MS";">I was in bed by 830 and fell asleep around 9. Melatonin and 1/2 of an Ambien for the win!</span></div>
Johnhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00180345730200342103noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5358721804853628200.post-75666093585418868212016-06-05T17:51:00.001+03:002016-06-05T17:51:03.749+03:00Galveston 70.3 Race ReportThe half Ironman at Galveston was my second race at this distance. I went into the race with two goals: learn how to ride and pace on the bike with a power meter, and complete the swim. The latter was really the the one thing I was sort of worried about. While I had a great swim at the ITU triathlon in Abu Dhabi, I had never completed an entire 1.2-mile half-iron swim. The one at Rocketman doesn't really count because the course ended up being short after the buoys drifted out of position. I'm a fairly strong swimmer, though not terribly efficient since my stroke is stuck in the 80s, but I had this mental block over getting through the entire open water swim without completely exhausting myself.<br />
<br />
The swim start is in the water off one of the piers at Moddy Gardens. You hop into the water, but unlike Abu Dhabi where you hold onto the dock before starting, you swim out a bit and tread water between two buoys until the horn sounds. I'm not a fan of the pushing, kicking, and elbowing that happens right after the start so I chose to move towards the right end of the line and let the chaos move along without me. I found it fairly easy going to swim towards the first turning buoy from an outside position. There weren't very many people around me so I had clear water and could focus on my stroke and my breathing. Shortly after making the first turn, I passed someone from the wave in front of me. To catch someone who had a 4-5 minute head start in such a short distance meant that either I was swimming really well or they were quite slow. I assumed I was doing well, and that gave me a boost of confidence and energy as I made my way down the long leg of the course.<br />
<br />
I managed to have a clean line for most of the second leg, although there were a few spots where someone who couldn't swim in a straight line kept cutting across my line from right to left and then from left to right a few minutes later. A few sharp elbows into his thighs kept him from doing this more than once. Once I made the second turn onto the final short leg to the finish, things got a little more crowded. I was right in the middle of the slow people from the two waves in front of me, the decent people from my wave, and the really fast people from the two waves behind me. I tried to draft off one of the women going past me, but that was a futile effort. I lost her wake after 20 or 30 seconds, though any little bit helps, right?<br />
<br />
I made my way out of the water and went straight for the wet suit strippers. There were people half out of their suits that kept running into transition, which made no sense to me. Why go right to your bike and have to step and stomp your way out of your suit when there are numerous strong young volunteers ready and willing to peel your suit off for you? A quick lie down on your back, a few pulls from the helpers, and you're out of your suit and on your way in 5-10 seconds.<br />
<br />
My time in T1 was slightly better than my time at Rocketman. Officially, I was 3 seconds faster, but since Galveston had a much longer run to get to my bike, I think I managed to be quite a bit quicker in getting changed and on my way.<br />
<br />
The bike course began with a few zigs and zags through the neighborhood near Moody Gardens before we made the right turn onto the road running along the beach and took off to the west. My primary goal for the bike course was to learn to ride a long distance with my power meter and keep in the 150-160 watt band that Mary set out for me. I also aimed to keep my heart rate in zone 3, preferably on the low end of the zone, because I've yet to learn how to prevent my HR from skyrocketing at the beginning of the run coming off the bike. I'm sure I'll figure it out someday, but for now, I'm using every race as practice and training for Florida.<br />
<br />
The wind on the bike course wasn't nearly as bad as predicted. With a forecast of 20-30 knots from the south-southeast, I was expecting to struggle and slog through a headwind or crosswind most of the time, and thankfully the conditions were much more moderate. Heading west towards the turnaround point (the course is one long out-and-back loop), the wind was somewhere between a cross and a headwind with much less force, maybe 15-20 knots. A few strong gusts knocked me around a bit, but I held on and stayed upright, which is more than I can say for one of the guys in front of me. He swerved to avoid an orange safety cone marking a pot hole and went head over heels into the grass shoulder. Fortunately for him, he was unscathed, popped right back to his feet, and passed me again 10-15 minutes later.<br />
<br />
Immediately after making the U-turn to start the second half of the course, I saw a woman laid out flat on her back on the ground, thankfully with a few volunteers from the nearby aid station warning the approaching riders so she didn't get run over. I couldn't figure out exactly what happened to her, but I'm pretty sure there's no way she finished the race.<br />
<br />
To this point, my ride was tracking pretty much on plan, with my average power sitting around 145 and my HR in low to mid zone 3. Of course, that's when disaster struck. I felt my rear tire turning a little soft and squishy as I motored along in the tailwind. A few glances down and back at the wheel confirmed my worst fear: a flat. Now you must understand that I'm not really afraid of a flat. I simply happen to be absolutely terrible at changing them, a fact proven again during this race. I struggled to get the tire off the rim, struggled to get it back on once the new tube was in, and even struggled to get all my tools back into the bag under my saddle, though that's mainly because I was furious at that point. My HR track bears this out. I dropped down from ~145 bpm to 120 bpm during the first 10 minutes I was on the side of the road working on the tire, and then it gradually rose in direct correlation to my level of frustration. By the time I was up and going again, my heart was beating at 152 bpm, faster than it had been while I was riding. [on a positive note, all this unanticipated practice came in handy when I returned to Erbil and my pump ripped the valve off my training tire. I had that sucker back on and rolling again in under five minutes.]<br />
<br />
Needless to say, my mental frame of mind deteriorated significantly during this period. I argued with myself for the next 25 miles about whether it was even worth it to attempt the run or call it a day and have a beer with Jackie and her friends. I also stopped paying such close attention to my heart rate and my average power. There's more enjoyment from mashing the pedals when you're mad than there is in calming down and sticking with your race plan. In the end, my bike leg turned out pretty well, not counting the flat debacle. Remove that lost time from my official record and I finished in 3:03, just a few minutes over the three hours I was shooting for. I am confident I would've been under three hours if I had kept riding and concentrating for the entire race and hadn't had to stop along the way. That, at least, gives me some hope I'll be able to handle the IMFL bike leg.<br />
<br />
T2 was far from speedy. I had no real sense of urgency because my personal goal of 6:15 or less was long gone. All I wanted at this point in time was to be done, making the 13.1 miles left to go that much less appealing. I've never quit a race, though, so as much as I felt like it, tossing in the towel wasn't really an option, especially since Mary was at the race too and I knew I'd hear it from her at the bar afterwards if I did. To be fair, going balls out to run as fast as I could wasn't really an option either. I chose a happy medium and ran when I could and walked when I felt like it.<br />
<br />
As hot as the run course was, I did have a pretty good time. I ran into some friends along the run route who were kind enough to let me have a few sips of their beer to keep my carb level up. I tried chatted up people who seemed to be taking it easy like I was, but didn't have much luck. A few people talked to me about meeting up for IPAs and chip & salsa once we finished, but for the most part, triathletes aren't the conversational bunch that marathoners are. Sad. I'll have to do something about that at IMFL this fall.<br />
<br />
While I didn't enjoy this race as much as I did Rocketman, I'm still glad I did it. I learned how to ride effectively with a power meter, realized my open water swimming is better than I thought, and reinforced to myself that it's better to keep going to the finish even when your flat tire and chain problems make you want to quit.Johnhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00180345730200342103noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5358721804853628200.post-44639046638932740782016-05-01T14:31:00.000+03:002016-05-01T14:32:05.277+03:00Back in the SaddleA pretty decent week of training this week. I finally got back into the groove after struggling with jet lag the week before. The only part of a workout I missed was the last few intervals from today's swim. Brian cooked an incredible meal last night (rib roast, Yorkshire pudding, roasted veggies, and chocolate fondant for dessert), and I ate way too much. Tough to swim well and for a long time when you've still got a pile of meat in your stomach. Worth it though. He's off rotation on Tuesday, so we won't have another dinner like that for a month.<br />
<br />
Swim - 4.15 miles<br />
Bike - 61 miles<br />
Run - 15.9 miles<br />
<br />
It's taking me some time to get used to my new position on the bike. The adjustments Adam made moved my saddle up and forward and dropped my stem, increasing the pressure on my shoulders. It's not horribly painful, but after a few hours, there's definitely some discomfort. Better to be working through this now well in advance of November, though.Johnhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00180345730200342103noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5358721804853628200.post-30250020831721342382016-03-18T17:46:00.003+03:002016-03-18T17:46:42.272+03:00Abu Dhabi ITU Race ReportI signed up for the Abu Dhabi ITU because several of my friends in Doha went last year and told me it was a great event. That might have been true back then, but it sure wasn't the case this year. Parts of the weekend were good, but overall I was very disappointed in what's supposed to be one of the premier races in the region. I won't be going back.<br />
<br />
I flew down to Abu Dhabi via Doha on Qatar Airways, a fairly uneventful trip. This was my first experience on their discount arm, and I hope I don't have to fly it again. The seats are pretty uncomfortable, there's no entertainment system, and the legroom is much less than on their normal planes. It's like flying on United, really, and I expect more from QA. After waiting what seemed like eternity for my bike to show up at baggage claim, I hopped in a taxi and was on my way to the hotel to check in and meet up with Alan. He wasn't too hard to find - at the hotel bar of course. We had a few beers, talked about the plan for Friday, and went off to bed at a decent hour.<br />
<br />
Friday morning was the practice swim. The race organizers opened part of the course for anyone who wanted to get in to test the water, sight the buoys for the race, and loosen up after traveling. They let us swim the 500 meters the sprint athletes would be tackling the next day. This was good for getting used to the water, but not very helpful for learning where our course would be. The entire marina area was filled with buoys of all shapes, colors, and sizes. One of the race officers had to show me which tall orange buoy was the correct one for the Oly race, and it's a good thing he did. The other tall orange one near that one was for the elite course. Apparently more than a few people went the wrong way on Saturday. I opted not to bring my wet suit for the practice swim. I wanted to see what the water felt like in case it was deemed too warm for wet suits on Saturday. The verdict? Not too bad, definitely doable without a wet suit, but much preferred to have one.<br />
<br />
Trying to get into the swim was my first view into how well the event was or was not organized, and it was clear they didn't think things through. In order to be allowed on the dock for the swim, you needed to show your wrist band. In order to get your wrist band, you had to pick up your registration packet. Registration opened at 10am. The swim was from 8-9. Presented with this dilemma, the organizers did not choose option 1 (allow people to swim without the bands) or option 2 (open registration early). No, they chose option 3, open everyone's packet to take out the wrist band and make them come back and stand in line again at 10 to get everything else. Not a huge inconvenience but definitely a bad sign of things to come.<br />
<br />
Knowing we couldn't get our packets for over an hour or rack our bikes until noon, we walked back to the hotel to shower and get some breakfast. I think breakfast before race day has become my favorite part of a race. What's not to like about the freedom to eat as many pancakes as desired? Add in the masala omelettes the chef was making to order, and I had one delicious meal.<br />
<br />
We met at 1230 to ride our bikes over to registration, which turned out to be not too much of a hassle. The volunteers at registration were able to keep up with the crowds pretty well, and aside from a line to get our bikes inspected before entering transition, things went pretty smoothly. One of the local bike shops was there doing free tune-ups, and not just the basic stuff either. They were tweaking the derailleurs, truing up the wheels and spokes, and cleaning and lubing the drivetrain too. Had I known they were being that thorough, I would've stood in line for one instead of making a mess of myself cleaning my chain while the bike was on the rack.<br />
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I spent the rest of the afternoon browsing through the vendors (picked up a nice pair of 2XU bike shorts for half price), visiting with people I knew from my novice tri camp last year (one of whom is doing a full this year like me), and drinking as much water as possible. The high 70s of Friday were forecast to be 80s on Saturday, a bit warmer than usual and not exactly ideal weather coming from Erbil.<br />
<br />
With transition opening at 5am, race day came early, and then I got up. One of the very nice things this race does is keep transition open for athletes in later start waves. Rather than have all 2300 people arrive at once to set up, they allow you to enter transition when it's convenient for you, though they did close it at certain periods to let the swimmers from the maxi distance waves that started first exit the water and get out on the bike course free from interference. For all the things they got wrong over the weekend, this is one of the ones they got very right. Being able to show up at 7 for a 750 start sure beats getting there at 530 and sitting around for a few hours.<br />
<br />
I used this race as practice for how I want to do things at Galveston next month, one of which was a new way of setting up my bike computer. Rather than having to remember to start it when getting on my bike coming out of T1, I tried turning on the auto-pause functionality, hitting Start, and leaving it sitting there on the bike. This worked like a charm. When I grabbed my bike to head out to the bike course, the unit detected movement and resumed operation. I use my Garmin to record the entire race, but I find it easier to see the bike computer instead of mounting the 920 to the bars and looking at the small screen.<br />
<br />
Leaving transition on my way to drop off my bag at bag check, I noticed no line at the toilets (the UAE uses portable toilet buildings instead of the plastic ones used everywhere else) and decided to take advantage of the situation while I had the chance. Once inside, I realized why there was no line: there was no water and thus the toilets and sinks didn't work. The ladies toilet building didn't have any water either. How the race organizers botched this one up is beyond me. With a few thousand people entered, you'd think that restroom facilities would be near the top of the list of things to be sure were in place and functioning.<br />
<br />
I dropped off my bag, sat down in an empty chair, and delayed stuffing myself into my wet suit for as long as possible. To pass the time, I chatted with a guy across the table from me from Finland. He had flown in for his very first tri, leaving behind sub-zero temperatures for the warmth of Abu Dhabi where it was already in the 70s. Poor guy was already a lot more uncomfortable than I was. Finally, around 730, they called for my wave to report to the dock. The time had come to get into the suit. Thanks to plastic bags on the feet and Body Glide on my wrists and neck, I managed to put my wet suit on, and after a few minutes of rolling the material up my legs to my waist and up my arms to my shoulders, my new friend zipped me up and I was on my way.<br />
<br />
They held us on the dock until the wave in front of us made the turn at the first buoy, at which point we were asked to slide into the water and hold on to the dock until the start. Even with a few hundred people in the wave, most of us were able to grab a piece of the dock. The rest put their hand on one of our shoulder's and floated until the horn went off and away we went. I started at the very righthand end of the dock with a straight line to the first buoy that would hopefully keep me out of the scrum in the middle. I took off very quickly. I blame the extra buoyancy from the wet suit and not my inability to pace well during an open water swim. Before too long, I settled into a routine that seemed to work pretty well for me. Swim 3-4 minutes, switch to breaststroke to catch breath and see the buoy, lather, rinse, repeat. I felt I was working hard, maybe too hard, and liked having the 10 second break to calm down and relax. I got pretty mentally discouraged when the buoy I thought was the turn for shore wasn't. I'm not really sure what it was for. It could've been there to guide us along the course to the real turning point, but there were enough people swimming to either side of it that make me question that assumption. Either way, when I realized I wasn't able to turn left and swim hard for the finish, I started doubting whether I'd ever be able to get through an Ironman swim. It felt like I'd been out there forever. Finally, I made the last turn and swam towards the dock. Or as much of the dock as we could see. The arch that we thought was marking the swim exit was off to one side, making it difficult to judge exactly where the exit was until you were close to shore. For evidence of this, <a href="https://connect.garmin.com/modern/activity/1073213632/1" target="_blank">look at the nice curve in my path</a> and you'll see almost the exact spot where I figured out the exit was to the right of the arch.<br />
<br />
Coming out of the water, I felt tired but good about my swim. I didn't get run over, managed to draft for a while off the people around me, and didn't get caught by anyone in the wave that started behind me. Turns out I had a 30-minute swim, much better than I thought I did, and was 19th out of the water in my age group. Needless to say, I didn't remain in 19th for very long. I took my time in transition to make sure everything was in place and ready to go. I know Mary is going to fuss at me for taking so long, but while I'm still learning how to do this, spending an extra few minutes is worth the peace of mind of knowing I'm ready for the bike.<br />
<br />
The bike course was two loops along the Abu Dhabi Corniche. Quite scenic and very flat, though without a lot of shade. The roads were closed to vehicular traffic, so for most of the course, we had plenty of room to ride. There were a few places where it narrowed down to one lane and got fairly congested. It was almost comical listening to people coming up from behind shouting "On your left," and trying to pass in those sections when the riders were already three or four abreast. No collisions occurred between bikes or between bikes and cones, but more than a few "Fuck off and wait" were uttered. As my bike handling skills are barely beyond the novice stage, I simply held my line and let everyone else get wound up.<br />
<br />
My instructions from Mary were to keep my hear rate in zone 3 and try for a steady and even ride. I think I managed to accomplish both goals, especially since zone 3 felt way too easy. I was clocking along at 18-20mph and had a mental discussion with myself over slowing down to be in low zone 3 or to keep motoring along in the 3.8-4.0 range. I opted for the latter. I kept up with my fueling the whole time, drinking one bottle of my Powerade and most of one bottle I picked up at the aid station. They planned the course very well to locate the aid station on a slip road so the main course didn't get dangerous with people slowing down and bottles in the road. I ate a piece of Clif bar every 20 minutes, kept my head down out of the wind as best I could, and yes, I took advantage of the draft of some large clumps of riders in a few of those narrow one-lane sections. Technically against the rules, I know, but I wasn't about to intentionally slow down while 15-20 people went by.<br />
<br />
The end of the bike course was extremely dangerous - a hairpin u-turn followed by the dismount line 30 yards later. It was too far away to slow around the turn and just coast to a stop. I saw one woman ditch her bike and slide across the line so she didn't crash into the other riders who were braking and getting off their bikes. I nearly did the same thing because it really was a quick slow->u-turn->pedal->speed up->halt kind of sequence. Not very well thought out at all, like a lot of the small but important details during the event.<br />
<br />
T2 was another more-leisurely-than-truly-necessary happening. Not all of the wasted time was my fault, though. When I got back to my towel, I saw the guy who was racked on the other side of the bar from me had stuck his bike on top of all my stuff and there was no room for my bike. After trying to find room for mine somewhere near where it belonged, I gave up and stuck it on his side on top of his gear. A few sips of water and a change of shoes later, I was on my way. It was really hot by this point in the morning, and I knew constant fluid intake would be the key to a good 10k run.<br />
<br />
My first mile was sub-9, probably a little to fast for the conditions, but I couldn't slow my feet down. The legs just kept turning over rapidly as if they were still on the bike. At each water stop, I walked while drinking a cup or two of water, poured one over my head, stuffed ice down my shirt if they had any, and started running again right away. There was no Powerade, Gatorade, or sports drink at either of the aid stations. They only had Red Bull, helpfully in both the regular and sugar-free varieties. Or not. Needless to say, I didn't see very many people choosing to drink Red Bull in the middle of a race. I held a pretty good pace and routine on the entire first lap and most of the second. The wheels fell off at mile 5 when the aid station ran out of water and ice. The mental letdown of looking forward to a cup of water on your head and then coming up empty was significant. I began walking and ended up run/walking the rest of the course until I got to the finishing area. No walking allowed then; have to look good for the crowds and the photographers. Not that any of my race pictures ever come out with me looking good. I've always got the worst expressions on my face, my form has gone to shit, and I look like I'm dying.<br />
<br />
Anyway, I crossed the line in 3:01, barely missing my goal of coming in under three hours. Those lazy transitions killed me. Once across the line, I expected to be given a medal (nope), some water (nope), and maybe a snack (nope). There was nothing, and I mean absolutely nothing, for the finishers. They had run out of everything and no one was taking the initiative to ask for more supplies. "Go to the registration tent," was the default answer of every person there, including the race officials with the formal ITU passes. Like any of us were in the mood to walk all the way through transition and back to the registration area to get a medal and some water. I ended up talking to the very friendly guy who was announcing people coming across the line, and he was able to reach someone who showed up about 10 minutes later with a shopping cart full of medals. It really shouldn't be that hard to have all of the boxes of medals stored at or near the finish line along with several hundred cases of water too.<br />
<br />
My next trip was back to the tent where we had dropped out bags off before the swim. I figured I'd pick up my bag, go back to transition and pack everything up, and head to the hotel to shower, change, and have a beer before the pros started their race two hours later. Good plan, right? Too bad it didn't work out that way. The bag drop tent was woefully understaffed by people who had clearly never organized numbered bags before, and the line to get into the tent had a 45 minute wait because they couldn't figure out how to efficiently retrieve people's bags. I decided not to wait around because in a surprise turn of events, the race announcer began telling people that everything had to be out of transition, except the bikes, by noon. So much for the race program telling us that transition will be open for our use from when we finished until 6pm. Once again, their desire to cater to the pros made things complicated and difficult for the rest of us.<br />
<br />
Carrying my wet suit, bike shoes, and other gear along with my bike wasn't easy, but I managed to get it all sorted and out of the area with 15 minutes to spare. By this point, the line for bag drop had decreased to a 25-minute wait. Still a long time to be standing around in the sun, but better than it was before. Finally, I made it into the tent and understood exactly why things were taking so long. The woman at the table looked at my number, pointed to a pile of bags, and said "yours is over there. Go and get it." Fortunately, my bag was a grey transition bag and was very easy to find. The participants trying to find their blue race-provided bag amongst the sea of blue race-provided bags weren't so fortunate.<br />
<br />
All told, I had a really good time seeing my friends from Doha and Dubai, and with the actual race segments themselves. The organization surrounding the race was abysmal, though, and I'll never do this event again. I doubt I'll be living here a year from now, but if I am, I'll go race at TriYas which got glowing reviews from everyone who had been there the weekend before the ITU race.Johnhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00180345730200342103noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5358721804853628200.post-59083357542036950802016-03-13T12:40:00.003+03:002020-08-14T16:17:04.381+03:00FTP TestMary had me do my very first FTP test the other day. It's a test to measure how much power I can put out while riding for a set amount of time. Basically, you warm up and then go as hard as you can for 20 minutes and record your average power over those 20 minutes. Your FTP is roughly 95% of that average. Technical explanations are <a href="http://support.trainerroad.com/hc/en-us/articles/201993760-FTP-Testing-The-Cornerstone-of-Training" target="_blank">here</a> for those so inclined.<br />
<br />
The test was the hardest riding I've ever done on a bike. I felt like I was going to fall over at the end, which I probably would have done if the bike wasn't on a trainer. I'm not sure how people do the same test outside. After looking at all my data, Mary gave me two important pieces of information. One is my FTP, 193 watts, which I guess is not bad for a beginner cyclist. The other, more crucial bit is that the test showed that my hear rate zones for the bike were not set properly. They'd all been too low. Now I know why some rides felt easier than I expected them to for a workout in a given zone. Those days are over. To quote Mary, "alas, now we know, so things are going to get markedly harder for you on the bike from this day forward. This is good news for your future performance, good news in terms of my assigning specific workouts for you that target what they should, and bad news in that you are going to have to work much harder
going forward."
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Lucky meJohnhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00180345730200342103noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5358721804853628200.post-8736660125617490772016-01-31T18:43:00.001+03:002016-01-31T18:43:09.005+03:00Training TotalsI missed updating my training results last week, so I'm going to include them in this week's post. Seems kind of fitting because Mary hasn't given me a day off since I got back from Florida. Thankfully, there's one on the schedule for tomorrow. She's pushing me to get ready for the 70.3 in Galveston in April, and it's a bit tiring getting back into more than just maintenance workouts.<br />
<br />
<u>January 21-24</u><br />
Swimming: 0:49, 2275 yards<br />
Biking: 4:11, 56.1 miles<br />
Running: 1:31, 8.8 miles<br />
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<u>January 25-31</u><br />
Swimming: 1:53, 5140 yards<br />
Biking: 4:10, 59.2 miles<br />
Running: 3:11, 18.6 miles<br />
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I did strength/weight lifting workouts this week for the first time in many years. With all that shoulder and chest work on top of the swim yardage, I could barely lift my arms to shampoo my hair. This is going to be a very difficult and painful part of my IM training. I'm not good at it at all, and I really don't like it. I have almost no upper body strength. I know, I know, it'll be good for me in the long run, but that doesn't mean I'm going to enjoy it any or pretend that I'm any good at it.<br />
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My new 920xt has been put through its paces for two weeks now. Generally, I'm very happy with it, but there are a few things that drive me nuts. For one, it skips a lot more laps in the pool than my 910xt. That watch never missed a single one. The 920 misses about 10% of them, which is really aggravating, especially when trying to keep track of longer sets and intervals. Garmin suggests pushing off harder from the wall and/or having a longer glide before taking a stroke in order to keep this from happening. Great advice that should be totally unnecessary. It's not terribly accurate in the parking lot either. I need to do some testing to see if that's due to my having GLONASS enabled or just a bug in the watch. I plan on wearing both watches next weekend during my outdoor runs to do a comparison. Other than those annoyances, I am very happy with the watch. Far more comfortable than the 910, better battery life, and a bunch of extra features (like drill sets for kicking in the pool) that are very handy.Johnhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00180345730200342103noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5358721804853628200.post-89809196079436735802016-01-17T01:39:00.000+03:002016-01-17T01:39:07.035+03:00Sunday Summary to Jan 10I'm a little late in posting my summary for last week, but I've got a good excuse. I was on a plane for most of the day on the 10th and spent the next several days working and relaxing at Disney.<br />
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Swimming: 1:37, 4615 yards<br />
Biking: 2:30, 39.3 miles<br />
Running: 0:29, 3.1 miles<br />
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I hit all of my workouts last week except one run. I had to cut that one short when the power to the hotel and the gym went out.Johnhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00180345730200342103noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5358721804853628200.post-46439565526526714372016-01-03T20:49:00.000+03:002016-01-03T20:49:37.357+03:00Sunday SummaryI'm going to try to get in the habit of posting a summary of my training for the past week every Sunday night. If nothing else, it'll give me something to look back on as IMFL gets closer this fall. Maybe I'll also get back in the habit of writing more and more often. Maybe.<br />
<br />
Swimming: 52 minutes, 1960 meters<br />
Biking: 2:11, 36.5 miles<br />
Running: 2:10, 13.1 miles<br />
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I had a hard time getting out of bed at 530 to workout last week. I ended up doing most of my training in the late morning before lunch or once I got off work in the evening. That's not a sustainable habit going forward seeing as most weeks of the year are not as light as the one between Christmas and New Year's.<br />
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I really enjoyed my biking this week. I discovered a really well done online cycling "game" called <a data-mce-href="http://www.zwift.com" href="http://www.zwift.com/" style="color: #00aadc;" target="_blank">Zwift</a>. You can ride a simulation of the world championship course in Richmond, set up your own workouts, and even race against people around the world if you're so inclined. They even have jerseys like the Tour de France that you can earn if you're faster than everyone else riding at that time. Today, by some miracle, or more likely a computer glitch, I took home the green jersey.<br />
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Zwift keeps me focused better during the interval workouts that Mary gives me, but for longer endurance-type rides, I think streaming movies still wins out.Johnhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00180345730200342103noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5358721804853628200.post-63218937463436550572015-12-12T12:08:00.000+03:002015-12-12T17:19:44.855+03:00Rocketman Race ReportThis was my first attempt at a half-ironman distance triathlon. Holly made me promise to do one with her since she had run Comrades back to back with me. I thought that was a fair trade, and we started looking around for a race to do together. I looked at a few in the Philippines figuring that would be a nice place for a destination race, but most of them were either sold out or had rather hilly bike courses. For the most part, I've got nothing against hills but they're really tough to train for on a turbo trainer in my living room. Unless I upgrade my trainer. The fancier ones have an electronic mechanism that apparently will adjust the resistance of the trainer to simulate climbing hills. Food for thought if I continue this triathlon adventure beyond the end of next year and am assigned to another garden spot. Anyway, back to the search for races...Holly found one in Croatia with no date attached other than TBD 2016. Finally, at some point after Comrades this summer, while going up and down various Internet rabbit holes, I stumbled across a race called <a href="http://rocketmanflorida.com/" target="_blank">Rocketman</a>. After a quick read of their web site, I knew this was our race. It's small, flat, and only 25 minutes from Heather's house in Florida at a time when I already had tickets to go visit. Plus it's held at the freaking Kennedy Space Center and has rockets for medals! What's not to like? <br />
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With the entry fee paid, it was time to get started on the training. With recovery from Comrades plus my general post-major-event-laziness coupled with a dive trip to Indonesia in July, it was probably early August before I began training again. Thanks to an email or two from Mary expressing her concern for my ability to finish, I got my ass in gear and got serious. Erbil was a pretty crappy place to train for Comrades because all of my runs were on a treadmill, but it's not quite as bad for tri training. The pool is designed for splashing around, but it's 20m long and not bad for lap swimming early in the morning. As mentioned above, my bike is on a trainer in the living room, so while I don't improve my bike handling skills any, I also don't fall off and get to watch lots of movies and TV shows. The treadmill is still the treadmill, but I can handle a two hours on one much better than the three or three-plus hours that Comrades required.<br />
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Over the next few months, I realized why people (usually spouses, I think) complain how expensive this sport is. Not that I spent a ton of money, but a little bit here on a front-mounted water bottle (the best purchase I made since I have minimal control of the bike on the road when I try to pull a bottle out of a cage), a little bit there for a set of Flo wheels, and a new top and shorts all made it look like Christmas when I arrived in Florida 10 days before the race. Side note: on the subject of traveling home, Emirates now has a flight direct to Orlando from Dubai, making life so much easier. Too bad they didn't start that flight four years ago when we first moved to the Gulf.<br />
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One of the race sponsors is <a href="http://bobsbicycles.com/" target="_blank">Bob's Bicycle Shop </a>in Indian Harbor, about 20 minutes south of Heather. I brought my bike in the day after I arrived so they could install my new wheels and race tires, give it a tune-up, and have it ready for the race. Really nice little shop with great service. They had the bike ready the next day, giving me over a week to practice out on the road. <br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Doesn't it look nice all cleaned up with new race kit?</td></tr>
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I got in a 50-mile ride the weekend before the race and a couple of shorter rides during the week, enough time to make me not confident in my biking skills - that's a long way off - but at least semi-comfortable that I could make it through the race without hurting myself or anyone else. I also learned that cranking up your heart rate the last 20-30 minutes before getting off the bike and going for a run does not lead to a very successful or enjoyable run. In my defense, I was trying to hit 50 miles in the time Mary gave me for my workout because I'd never gone that far in one ride before.<br />
<br />
Holly flew in on Friday from Houston, and after she put her bike together that night, we dug into our favorite end-of-the-week meal: pizza and champagne. It's a tradition that began when Heather and I would go visit her in Dubai. We'd stop in duty free on the way out of the airport to buy wine and champagne for her (it's the cheapest place in Dubai to get it) and always end up having a bottle or two with a pizza for dinner that night. We've been doing ever since. It might not be the most nutritious meal, but it works.<br />
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Saturday, we went out for a quick ride and run before heading up to the race site to pick up our packets and check in our bikes. All the lines were short except for the one to purchase a one-day membership for the national triathlon organization. People had been waiting in that one for ages because the race organizers couldn't find the forms. I gave up after 15 minutes, whipped out my phone, and paid for the full year membership online. Score one for modern technology, although it still irks me that I had to pay anything at all. One more reason to prefer running: there's no individual fee to a nebulous national body. The rest of the day was spent having a beer or two while watching college football, checking lists and packing everything into a bag for the race, and having a light pasta, pesto, and garlic bread dinner. I'm sure there was a salad in there too. Unlike me, Holly has a salad with dinner almost every night. I get mine at lunch at the restaurant at work.<br />
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Of course, as is common before a big race, I had a hard time getting to sleep. I wasn't nervous like I was before Comrades, but I did wonder in the back of my mind how I was going to do. I knew I'd be able to finish one way to another, and felt fairly sure I'd be under the stated time limit of seven hours. I think I was mostly questioning my ability to swim the 1.2 miles. I've swum that distance or more in the pool quite often, but in open water during an event? Never.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Hanging out in transition before the start</td></tr>
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Like with most races, Dublin and Stockholm excepted, the alarm went off way too early. I straggled out of bed and wandered into the kitchen to eat a Clif bar. Mary wants me to eat something three hours before a big race, but a Clif bar when I wake up is about all I can handle. I have a hard time eating first thing in the morning. I did manage to follow my liquid fueling plan and sipped on a bottle of Powerade Zero while driving to the race. We arrived at 535 and found a parking spot with no trouble at all. We seemed to have arrived right after the early birds and right before the masses because there was no line at body marking or chip pick-up either. With both of those activities out of the way, I set about pumping my tires and setting up my gear. I hit the porta potty, talked with my parents, and stalled as long as I could before stuffing myself into my wetsuit. Wetsuits are never flattering in the base case, ones designed for tri swims even less so, and the extra pounds I was carrying didn't help matters either. Good thing Holly and my dad were there to help with the zipper. Before too long, we heard the call for the half distance people to line up for the swim, and off we went.<br />
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The entrance to the swim was down a narrow set of stairs to the water. There were only three waves for the half (men under 45, men over 45, and all women), less than 250 people in total, starting four minutes apart. In order to alleviate crowding on the stairs, they sent the first wave into the water, kept us on the stairs, and had the women wait at the top until we went into the water.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggDQziJEhGUem0pbLSuyd_Ko9TqhCTtV1iq-EeWzT2Fz5T3cVFVMF8UpoOCnLH1AnuC0XRrvHq-LXBGS03XgVEbyt0WgRIASrYRUt41pdi2a08AzY61nKwBJSj7AxORPoJfKr2dybIdZQ/s1600/Oct++and+Nov+pictures+062.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggDQziJEhGUem0pbLSuyd_Ko9TqhCTtV1iq-EeWzT2Fz5T3cVFVMF8UpoOCnLH1AnuC0XRrvHq-LXBGS03XgVEbyt0WgRIASrYRUt41pdi2a08AzY61nKwBJSj7AxORPoJfKr2dybIdZQ/s400/Oct++and+Nov+pictures+062.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">One of those green caps is me</td></tr>
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<br />
Finally, the first wave started and they let us into the water. I began the walk out to the start buoy with the water barely getting over my knees. The river was much shallower than I expected. We could walk for a good portion of the swim (and had to in several areas where you'd touch bottom with your hand while swimming) and touch our feet down to catch our breath if we needed to. Which I did once or twice. The swim was missing the argy bargy kicking and hitting that are common in larger races. We were able to spread out easily, and I had no real issues with being kicked or hit by other people. With 15-20 knot winds, the chop was pretty stiff and not something I was prepared for. I swallowed a lot of water heading out to the first buoy. The second leg was better as we were a a less severe angle to the waves, and third leg was a fast combination of swimming and body surfing back to shore. Glancing at my watch as I reached the shallows and could walk faster than swim, the numbers looking back at me were 19:xx. I'm a decent swimmer, but I am nowhere near that fast. I chalked it up to good fortune and went on my way up the stairs to the wetsuit strippers and T1.<br />
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When I reached my bike, I took my time to make sure I went through things calmly and carefully. I washed the dirt off my feet to make sure there was nothing under my sock that would cause blisters later, put on some sunscreen (missed more than a few places I found out later in the shower), and prepared to head out. I kept checking to see if Holly was close behind so we could bike together. With the course being shorter than expected and the four minute gap between our starts, it would've been hard for her to catch up, so off I went.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZfF6zCCf0-v_lIJr6kgtpa4L4u9hZvXIAQpR02umDOFjFT_iBtIOGiuYL-ffikh6DUvVlajJ7iLnLwgGJQ66sgCh9BchoBijO4nObu6MRHhHDmlHcNHL05z3vVM-V89umjNcFL53hSVI/s1600/Oct++and+Nov+pictures+069.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZfF6zCCf0-v_lIJr6kgtpa4L4u9hZvXIAQpR02umDOFjFT_iBtIOGiuYL-ffikh6DUvVlajJ7iLnLwgGJQ66sgCh9BchoBijO4nObu6MRHhHDmlHcNHL05z3vVM-V89umjNcFL53hSVI/s400/Oct++and+Nov+pictures+069.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Heading out of T1</td></tr>
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The bike course was in the Merritt Island Nature Preserve and on the ground of the Kennedy Space Center. Aside from a small drawbridge and a few on and off ramps, it was about as flat as you can get. I really, really liked the bike leg. I know, I know, I'm not a cyclist and never will be, but it really was a blast. Not a huge fan of the wind, though. Zooming along at 25-30 mph in the tailwind was great fun. Crawling along at 14 in the headwind? Not so much. I especially enjoyed the benefits of an aerodynamic tri bike. Blowing past people upwind and downwind sure kept me motivated the whole way around.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgXhWwnACfErqCxw8Uoj8fReFjOJFRJ3D5gAk5kFUJ1w20Q41PVnNF0qbPpizBWkV39ovIpsF3U2vvTv6SggKh0qEmmQI-dZut_Sh_6hKgKwBPX12b82Rb9lTSD_PV6mFkNgCUClm8V5E/s1600/1375_010602.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgXhWwnACfErqCxw8Uoj8fReFjOJFRJ3D5gAk5kFUJ1w20Q41PVnNF0qbPpizBWkV39ovIpsF3U2vvTv6SggKh0qEmmQI-dZut_Sh_6hKgKwBPX12b82Rb9lTSD_PV6mFkNgCUClm8V5E/s400/1375_010602.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Right after leaving transition. Not entirely comfortable on the road.</td></tr>
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<br />
The guy I enjoyed passing the most was on a bike with 90mm rims in front and a disc wheel in the back. I'm sure he would've dusted me in calm weather, but in the wind, he didn't stand a chance of keeping his bike under control. I wonder why he didn't change to rims with less windage. It's not like the breeze was a surprise. It was blowing all day on Friday and Saturday, and the forecast wasn't any better for Sunday. Anyway, we had a good chat as we approached one of the u-turns together, and then I was gone.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEieYZkjdRLW-vBCkaCDRFC1rqT9rKEpIFvZH_5NjxpqvrBSvsrckHDmb-SqPA01io2rFh87mf72A8VVRTEp7vyu9xfdkx8ryMZ9klmhPfeDk-we2pAjpj_bs8Do96pyt8lI2zIUr7wZbgA/s1600/1375_004299.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEieYZkjdRLW-vBCkaCDRFC1rqT9rKEpIFvZH_5NjxpqvrBSvsrckHDmb-SqPA01io2rFh87mf72A8VVRTEp7vyu9xfdkx8ryMZ9klmhPfeDk-we2pAjpj_bs8Do96pyt8lI2zIUr7wZbgA/s320/1375_004299.jpg" width="213" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Taken about 6 miles after the first one.<br />
I almost look like I know what I'm doing.</td></tr>
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I started in with fluids at 15 min as per Mary's plan. My bike was loaded with three bottles filled with a mix of Powerade and Powerade Zero, and I emptied all of them by the time I was done. I grabbed a bottle of Gatorade at mile 48 and drank maybe 1/4 of it too. There was supposed to be an initial bottle exchange at mile 14, but I never saw it. I did see the guys from Bob's out there helping people fix flats and deal with other mechanical issues. Really nice of them to spend the day riding around to make sure we all made it back in one piece.<br />
<br />
I ate 1/4 of a Clif bar (thanks to Holly for the great idea to cut them into little pieces the night before) at each of my feeding times. About 20 minutes before I got off the bike, I had two Clif bloks to get ready for the run since I was tired of the bars. I also swallowed a salt tab every hour. I probably should have had more had I bothered to look at how much salt was accumulating on my shorts and sleeves. The temperature was not all that hot, thankfully, or things could have been a lot worse.<br />
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I only nearly killed myself once or twice during the 56 miles, usually when I was trying to wipe the sweat off my face or grab one of the bottles out of its cage. Damn twitchy tri bikes. Otherwise, my bike handling was decent. I stayed in aero the whole time except for when I sat up to open the bag and get something to eat. Parts of the course were so extremely rough, I felt like my fillings were going to fall out. The out and back to the north gate of the KSC was the worst. Carbon bikes with race tires do not seem to be very forgiving. My wrists, neck, and shoulders really got sore from being so tense on that stretch of road. Biking through the rest of the Space Center was really fun, though. I loved seeing the assembly building, the Space-X building, and all the other NASA stuff they have on site there. I even managed to look at the camera for the iconic race picture.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPrm1hulafjm0ZVQldWxWfr3GnEVum5x41JMrkpu_xBtZeZlxQm_s-haYWoaOUhjPm3vDv4aMmJKc4ATWmdsYzpQ4Q3VZM2GIUMEwzH6N1LAyj_GAol2caoZOs3MuG13F6MKWzFvWAk1U/s1600/1375_009668.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="563" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPrm1hulafjm0ZVQldWxWfr3GnEVum5x41JMrkpu_xBtZeZlxQm_s-haYWoaOUhjPm3vDv4aMmJKc4ATWmdsYzpQ4Q3VZM2GIUMEwzH6N1LAyj_GAol2caoZOs3MuG13F6MKWzFvWAk1U/s640/1375_009668.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Smiling for the camera while plodding upwind.<br />
Small improvement in bike handling skills.</td></tr>
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The last few hundred meters of the bike got a little interesting. We had to make a sharp lefthand turn across the road where the runners were heading out for their last leg. I wanted to keep a decent speed so they could get back to running (they were held up while we crossed), but I also wanted to slow down enough to be able to dismount without falling over or crossing the dismount line on my bike. Fortunately, I survived and had no issues, but I bet there's a huge spike on my HR monitor at that point in time.<br />
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Once in T2, I was a man possessed. I racked my bike, changed my shoes, grabbed my number belt, put on my visor, and left as fast as I could. No, this wasn't because I was racing. I had to pee. Bad. Those three bottles of fluid and the brackish swim water went right through me. I really really had to go while on the bike but wasn't going to stop. Thankfully, there was a bank of porta potties right before the timing mat that starts the run with no line. Two minutes and half my transition time later, I was on my way.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2pU11qs_vfZ9z29CIv9OV1N7Y86_RVrGqRwruUWtFM3wDNbMEjgXIlLEt1wHS69VYoHbBSJKTRLnSKCZ5nzSKBIJxyjBmy1UjiaDYKFgZF3W3cLotx06896sqdjEpsXpY2-lCZTZg0ac/s1600/1375_026937.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2pU11qs_vfZ9z29CIv9OV1N7Y86_RVrGqRwruUWtFM3wDNbMEjgXIlLEt1wHS69VYoHbBSJKTRLnSKCZ5nzSKBIJxyjBmy1UjiaDYKFgZF3W3cLotx06896sqdjEpsXpY2-lCZTZg0ac/s320/1375_026937.jpg" width="213" /></a>The first mile or two of the run were good. My legs felt like jelly but were turning over a good quick pace. I ate a gel after 20 minutes or so, and that's when my day started going downhill. My stomach wasn't thrilled with that, and I didn't have anything else except fluids the rest of the run. I ran between the water stops, and walked for a bit after each one. I hoped by doing this that I would a) start feeling better, and b) let Holly catch up so we could run together. I began to feel better once I stopped drinking Gatorade and used just ice water. Thankfully, the aid stations between miles 5 and 9 had Coke so I drank a cup at each one. That really made me feel better. The pain of chafing in places that should never chafe prompted me to take two salt tabs at the mile 7 water stop. Apparently the water I'd been pouring over my head coupled with the ice melting down my shirt mixed with the large amount of salt dried on my shorts to create a really uncomfortable mess.<br />
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Holly caught up at mile 10 and we ran the rest of the way together. She knew my first half was rough when we saw each other on the out & back and ran faster so she'd reach me. She's a great running spouse.<br />
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Overall, I had a great time. I still can't believe how much I enjoyed the bike. Maybe that's because I loved passing people. Tri bikes sure do make a difference. I am sure I could've gone faster on the bike and pushed more during the run, but my main goal was to finish upright and happy. Mission accomplished.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6qhqce1ZCJIRobZYI4hMKDvJcu-gLYSlJ9idWnZvw2bS6IRFmFHN6hg5FErJGjjkjrSxWhS42uADKd7HvEkEZWZvP-v6vHuxwL73j6Y78VOU8VkGUa3Thv0s5e7Mb_Pf2zveETzCULz4/s1600/IMG_1063.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6qhqce1ZCJIRobZYI4hMKDvJcu-gLYSlJ9idWnZvw2bS6IRFmFHN6hg5FErJGjjkjrSxWhS42uADKd7HvEkEZWZvP-v6vHuxwL73j6Y78VOU8VkGUa3Thv0s5e7Mb_Pf2zveETzCULz4/s320/IMG_1063.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The medal is a miniature Saturn V rocket!</td></tr>
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Results:<br />
Swim: 19:23<br />
T1: 4:10<br />
Bike: 3:10<br />
T2: 5:19<br />
Run: 2:25<br />
Total: 6:04<br />
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Postscript: Thanks to my parents for some of these pictures and for volunteering during the event. It was pretty funny to hear the race announcer say "John Senger, hurry up and finish. Your mother is looking for you." as I approached the line. Turns out they had missed seeing me come in on the bike and weren't sure where I was. Mom was the person holding back the runners as we crossed in front of them and Dad stood at the dismount line so we knew where to stop. How all three of us missed seeing each other is beyond me.<br />
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P.P.S. I'm really glad I have this picture of Holly and me at the finish. It came in handy on my way back to Iraq. Due to a flight cancellation by Emirates, I had to fly from Dubai to Amman to get a Royal Jordanian flight to Erbil. While going through transit security, my medal was confiscated by one of the officers. He tried to tell me it was forbidden because it looked like a weapon. I think he just wanted to take it home for himself or his kids. I protested and argued and pleaded my case with him and four other people, using up over twenty minutes of my one hour connection time. Finally, when talking to the head guy who came out from the central office at the other side of the airport, I explained again what the medal was from and showed him this picture of us at the end of the race. He relented, handed me the ribbon, and I was on my way straight to the gate. The race sent out an email the other day offering to let finishers buy one of the leftover medals. If I knew how to reach the guy who first grabbed my medal, I'd forward him the email and offer to bring one back for him.Johnhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00180345730200342103noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5358721804853628200.post-65482725706849986102015-07-10T13:53:00.000+03:002015-07-10T13:53:24.084+03:00Comrades PicturesSome pictures from during the race<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Coming down into the halfway point</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Just passing the halfway cutoff point</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjik466QHvWhNF7AXm2wiTw4siIZDfk0wKoUFtGN-d31I_z0vFyRx_fkvdksBhkPH6RULgjDGzJ5_vqbEzHaRRPD7Q6XaveXI2oNjnkdDwK1AWVbJ99yyVF_t_bS5uWTNz7zTyO0LdF-kk/s1600/21522151_527.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjik466QHvWhNF7AXm2wiTw4siIZDfk0wKoUFtGN-d31I_z0vFyRx_fkvdksBhkPH6RULgjDGzJ5_vqbEzHaRRPD7Q6XaveXI2oNjnkdDwK1AWVbJ99yyVF_t_bS5uWTNz7zTyO0LdF-kk/s640/21522151_527.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Running the start of the hill</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Not running the top of the hill</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Coming into the stadium</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Just a few steps to go</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Done!</td></tr>
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Johnhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00180345730200342103noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5358721804853628200.post-33536760851489136942015-06-23T14:10:00.001+03:002015-06-23T14:10:32.112+03:00Comrades 2015 Race ReportAnge, one of my coaches, asked me to write a race report again this year. This one won't be as involved or as long as <a href="http://jmsenger.blogspot.com/2014/06/comrades-marathon-race-report.html" target="_blank">last year's,</a> but I'll provide as much detail and color commentary as I can. First, before we get to race day, let's have a look at what was in store for us.
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That's pretty much a marathon straight uphill followed by a marathon on seriously rolling hills followed by a few kilometers of down and up to the finish. And of course, the cartoon profile provided by Comrades doesn't really show you how steep and nasty all those climbs really are. Here's the chart from my Garmin for comparison. </div>
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But that's getting ahead of ourselves. Let's turn back time to the day after last year's race. There we were, hanging out at Joe Cool's in Durban, having a few beers (okay, more than a few) to celebrate having conquered Comrades. Everything was all fun and games until our South African friends heard us expressing our relief at being able to cross the race off the bucket list. "Not so fast," they said. "You haven't really done Comrades until you've done it back to back in both directions. It really is a different race going down vs up." And with that, the seed was planted. By the time registration opened a few months later, there was no real question about if we were going to run again or not. Erin was certainly going to be back so she could get revenge on the course after finishing but not making the cutoff in 2014. Holly and I knew that since she was going, we were too, and Holly even managed to talk Desiree, one of her friends in Houston, into coming along as well. I was the last one to sign up, I think, mostly because I had some reservations about being able to train properly while living in Erbil. I hate treadmills in the base case and was not at all looking forward to having to do all my training indoors.</div>
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Fast forward a few months, and training wasn't as bad as I thought it was going to be, mostly because I got to spend time in Dubai instead of Erbil. I did have a few months of hours-long runs on a treadmill on both weekend days, though, and that certainly wasn't any fun. I only made it through by watching episodes of Game of Thrones. I'd watch one, stop to change my shirt and refuel, watch another, etc., etc. Thankfully, I managed to schedule a business trip to Houston at the end of April that allowed me to get my last three weekends of back-to-back long runs done outside and with other people. The peak weekend of 24 and 16 would've been really tough to do in the gym at the Divan.</div>
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About three weeks before the race, the race organizers (the Comrades Marathon Association) announced that due to road construction in Pinetown, the course would be 877 meters longer than the usual up-run course. Personally, I don't see much difference in running 86.9 km and 87.7 km, but I was clearly in the minority. The online moaning and wailing and gnashing of teeth was astounding. People were panicking about not being able to pace properly, how the extra distance would impact their strategy, and even going to far as to ask the CMA to extend the time limit for the race beyond 12 hours. All that fussing over an extra 8 seconds per mile. That's nothing more than a few minutes more running and less walking over the course of a 12-hour day. Nothing for us mere mortals to worry about, though it did cost the female winner a few hundred thousand dollars. She missed the course record by three minutes. </div>
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As race day approached, I was much more scared and nervous than I was last year. I knew what was coming (see those lovely course maps above) and also knew I wasn't as well prepared as last year. I had done all my workouts, but my overall mileage was down and I didn't have Heather's yoga classes to build my core and leg strength, two things absolutely critical for running uphill. Holly hadn't trained too well either thanks to a stress fracture in her foot that kept her from running most of the spring, though she got plenty of swimming and biking in to make up for it. Sitting on the plane from Dubai to Durban, I had some doubts as I whether I'd make it the whole way or not. I was most worried about getting to the top of Field's Hill and then to the halfway point. Three out of the five big and named hills are in the first half of the race, and I was afraid they'd suck so much energy out of me that I wouldn't have anything left for the rest. Thankfully, copious amounts of champagne banished those thoughts to another day.</div>
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Friday morning, we all met up for our traditional 5k run along the water in Durban followed by breakfast at Circus Circus. While taking pictures after we ate, we were approached by a team from the local paper asking us if we were running on Sunday and if they could ask us a few questions and take some pictures. The next day, we woke up to our smiling faces on the front page of the paper!</div>
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After breakfast, the expo beckoned. We grabbed our packets, did some shopping, found our names on the wall of entrants, and hung out for a little while in the International area. I felt bad for the poor security volunteers who had to keep kicking one of the local running clubs out of the area. They certainly knew better but kept coming back in over and over again. I'm sure all they wanted was a place to sit down and to have some coffee, coke, or water. Lots of the people running Comrades can barely afford the entry fee and a place to stay the nights before the race, so we left most of the stuff from our goodie bags on the table for them. They need the granola bars and energy drink powders and other stuff much more than we do.</div>
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Hanging out with Holly, Erin, and Desiree at the apartment after the expo made me feel much better about the race. None of us felt completely confident, but as a group, we were all certain we'd get to the starting line and find a way to finish. Nerves and anxiety were giving way to the normal pre-race excitement and anticipation. We talked about our plan for the hills (run/walk at 3 minute/1 minute intervals), our fueling (bring on the salted potatoes!), and our bio breaks (when one stops, we all stop). There wasn't much talk about the weather because we knew it was going to be warm and sunny. We didn't do much on Saturday either - pancake breakfast at Circus Circus (along with dozens of other runners), lounging around the apartment, and one last dinner of pizza and pasta before heading to our room in Durban for the night. Staying in Durban the night before the race was one of Holly's more brilliant decisions this year. Being able to sleep in a few extra minutes and simply walk to the start sure beats having to drive in and deal with traffic.</div>
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I woke up Sunday morning not feeling very rested. Desiree says I slept pretty well, but it sure didn't seem that way to me. After a Clif bar for a snack, some Powerade to wash it down, and half a dozen trips to the bathroom, it was time to get moving. I put on my racing outfit, threw a Qatar Airways PJ top over my head to keep warm on the walk to the start, grabbed my fuel belt and drop bag, and away we went. Ten minutes later, we arrived at bag drop just outside the corrals. Holly and I had the purple numbers signifying that we were international runners (foreign runners get their own tent and bag check area at the finish), but somehow Kim, Erin, and Desiree never got them at the expo. The guys at the truck handed them yellow numbers, and no matter how much he claimed otherwise, we knew their bags were going to end up in the general tent and not the international one. Not much we could do about it at that point, so we handed over the bags and entered our corral.</div>
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Kim and I opted for the first visit to the porta-potty while the others stayed behind and watched our stuff. When we got back, the other three left while we kept an eye on everything and kept people from crowding into our spot. With a strict 12-hour gun-to-gun cutoff time, there's a strong desire to get as close to the front of your corral as possible, and people will squeeze into whatever space is available. Somehow through the noise of the crowd, I heard Holly yelling for me from outside the fence. Kim and I grabbed all of our belts and belongings and ran over to see what the problem was. "They won't let us in the gate! Security won't let us in!" Holly was a little panicked, as were the rest of us, and it didn't help that right at the moment, they dropped the ropes between the corrals and thousands of people surged forward like at a general admission rock concert. Fortunately, she was able to pry apart two sections of the fence, and they all squeezed in next to us. Some calming breaths later, we shuffled forward with the crowd and began to look forward to the pomp and circumstance of the start. Even after experiencing it last year, the singing of the national anthem and Shosholoza, the playing of Chariots of Fire, and the recording of the cock crows still gave me goosebumps. By far the best atmosphere at the start of any race I've ever done. You can see for yourself in this video starting around the 30:00 mark.</div>
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Bang! And we were off. Okay, not exactly off because we still had to make our way to the line, but our watches were running. Four minutes later, we were running! Another four minutes later, we were not running, as the 12,000 people in front of us ground to a halt. The roads in Durban are much wider than those in PMB, but we sure seemed to do a lot more stopping and starting this year. In order to keep an eye on each other, we quickly fell into a system where you'd raise your hand over your head if you wanted to find out where everyone else was. Empty hands while dodging around people or spreading out on the hills, full hands with water sachets to pass back and forth - this worked really well all day. </div>
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The first few miles were really crowded. The hills were just steep enough to keep people from running too fast but not steep enough yet to separate the runners from the run/walkers from the walkers. We held ourselves in check (not much choice, really) and ran along mostly in silence. We'd laugh at something here and there, but most of what we said was "are we all together?" and "do we have everyone?" I felt okay, not a really good sign this early in such a long race. By the time we passed over the top of Cowie's Hill, the first of the big five, I could already tell that the hills were going to wear me out. Thankfully, one of us needed a nature break heading through Pinetown shortly thereafter and I was able to catch my breath for a few minutes.</div>
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After turning the corner to begin the long climb up Field's Hill, Desiree and Kim steadily moved ahead of us. They were off to a great start so we wished them well and sent them on their way. Their training had obviously been better than ours, and it wouldn't be fair to hold them back. Erin, Holly, and I kept on plugging away and eventually reached the top. This was one of the big milestones I had in my mind since it's the longest climb in the race, but the mental boost I expected never materialized. Just the opposite happened. I began to lose confidence and get depressed thinking about how much farther we had to go and how much energy I'd already felt drain away. I was exhausted and still had 40 miles to go. Seeing Erin and Holly out in front of me didn't help any either. Not that I wanted to beat them. I'm as competitive as they come, but I do have my limits. No, this was more of a realization that I was struggling and they weren't, and that just made me feel worse. A few more miles of this seemed to take forever. I knew I had to do something or else I wasn't going to make it to the end. I grabbed Holly and told her that she absolutely had to stay with me, right on my shoulder, until I came out of my funk. She agreed without hesitation and reminded me that we were in this together no matter what. I'd like to say that hearing this from my running spouse was all it took to snap me back to normal, but that'd be a lie. Another hour or so passed before I was happy and cheerful once again.</div>
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The three of us soldiered on up Botha's Hill (one of the steepest climbs of the day) and down into the halfway point at Drummond. We managed to pick up our pace pretty well on the first real downhill stretch of the race thus far. Once again, it was a huge success that we crossed halfway (5:29) before the winner finished the race (5:38). Our excitement and enjoyment of the easy running was short-lived, though. Inchanga starts not even half a mile later and is a bitch of a climb (2 miles at 6%) even when you don't already have a marathon on your legs. By this point, we'd given up on our strict run/walk intervals and had moved to "run when we can and walk when we must," as Holly put it. For Inchanga, that meant mostly walking with some slow running (me) and power walking (Holly). Finally, with 30 miles behind us, we reached the top, and I knew I was going to finish. I'd told myself before we started that if we could get to the top of Inchanga in under 6:30, we'd have 5:30 to make it through the last 25 miles with nearly all of the climbing behind us. We crested in 5:56.</div>
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We cruised down the back and made our way to Harrison Flats. Don't let the name fool you. Harrison Flats is not flat. It's rolling hills that felt as much uphill this year as they did last year. About this point in the race, we got passed by a huge 11:30 bus (they call the pace groups over here "buses") and fell in behind them for a little while. They had a nice routine of running a few minutes followed by a short walk break, but they were going way too fast for their expected finish time. We fell back and let them go, as did a lot of other people around us. Either our math was wrong (after last year's debacle that wasn't entirely out of the question) or theirs was, and it wasn't worth the risk to find out. [side note: they were way off and finished in 11:12. I'm sure a lot of people blew up and had trouble even coming in under 12 because of that.]</div>
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Running along towards Cato Ridge, Erin began drifting back slightly and then catching up to us as we slowed down to wait for her. Like last year, she was having a hard time getting a full deep breath. Holly and I started to have the conversation that no one running with their friends likes to have - how long do we stay back with Erin before leaving her and running our own race? Knowing how she didn't make the cutoff time last year and not wanting to see her miss out again made our decision all that more difficult, but in the end, we knew we had to move on. To her credit, Erin knew what we were thinking and asked us if we wanted to keep going before we could bring it up. I gave her a huge hug, cried a little, and told her we'd see her at the finish. </div>
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Holly and I settled into an easy pace as the miles ticked by. By the time we hit the Lion Park timing mat, we knew we weren't going to be sub-11 but were certainly going to be sub-12. We crossed in 9:03, leaving us just under three hours to travel the last 11 miles. Not wanting to cut it quite that close, we decided to try to keep ourselves under 14 min/mile so we had plenty of time to spare if the wheels completely fell off down the road. No problems with math this year.</div>
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About half an hour later, approaching the chicken farms, we ran into James's friend Carl. He was struggling a bit running by himself and was more than happy to join us for the last bit to PMB. With the pressure of chasing sub-11 long gone, we ran and walked and talked and enjoyed ourselves as best we could. Finally, we hit Little Polly's. It's not one of the big five named hills, but rather gets its name from the fact that people often mistake it for the real Polly Shortts. Polly's is steeper, longer, and closer to the end, making Little Polly's just a teaser for what's left to come. There were some terrific spectators along this stretch. Not that the ones we saw during the previous 50 miles weren't good too, but one group here really was wonderful. I stopped to ask them if they had any sunblock I could use, and instead of having me stand there and wait while they found it, they told me to keep going and they'd bring it to me. "You need to keep moving. No wasting time!" they said. Sure enough, about 20 seconds later, one of the women came running up to me with a bottle and sprayed some in my hands and on my face. Now that's the spirit of Comrades that people always talk about.</div>
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At last it was time to tackle Polly's. It's not the biggest hill in the race, but it sure is the most difficult. Climbing 400 feet in barely more than a mile when you've already run 50 miles is just awful. Holly was the only one of the three of us to be thankful to be going uphill. She developed a huge blister on her toe coming down Little Polly's and going up took the pressure off of it for a little while. Coming down the other side wasn't too enjoyable for her, requiring her to tread gently and take it easy. We had plenty of time to spare, so going slowly wasn't a concern. We had to, really, since the last five miles have a lot more up and down in them than we thought. At the top of one little bump, we could see big banks of lights up ahead and started looking forward to seeing the stadium. How wrong we were. Those lights were for the rugby field about two miles out of town. </div>
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Finally, we made the last big right turn into Pietermaritzburg and knew we were almost there. A quick left brought us right to the stadium with cheering fans lining the road the whole way. This was a much more enjoyable finishing stretch than coming into Durban on the highway and running through the commercial center. That was pretty empty, but the people in PMB turned out in force. We stopped walking and started running as soon as we approached the stadium. I have a personal rule to always run the last mile of a race, or in the case of this Comrades, the last half mile. Coming through the tunnel and onto the grass wasn't as emotional a moment for me as it was last year. I was just happy to have beaten the damn course and made it to the end. It was Holly's turn to tear up a bit as she waved to her parents and we made the final turn to the line. Fists pumping and arms raised in celebration, we crossed the line in 11:21. <a href="http://www.energade.co.za/website/mysports.html?r=11620&e=CO15M&n=John+Senger&ct_s1=05:34:08&ct_f=16:51:34&nt_s2=02:00:45&ct_s2=07:30:46&nt_s3=05:29:02&ct_s3=10:59:03&nt_s4=07:15:14&ct_s4=12:45:15&nt_s5=09:03:32&ct_s5=14:33:33&nt_s6=10:18:33&ct_s6=15:48:34&nt_s7=11:21:02&ct_s7=16:51:03&k=finish&l=EN&gotostream=false" target="_blank">You can see the video here</a>. </div>
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We hobbled over to the international tent, got our bags, and collapsed on the ground. I was absolutely freezing, shaking so hard I threw up a few times. Lovely, I know. I'm really glad Holly's parents were there to help us with food and drinks because I wasn't going anywhere for a while.</div>
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I stopped feeling sick and cold once I saw Erin come "walking" up. She made it! One of her friends from Doha grabbed her along the way and wouldn't let her not finish. She was as happy as I've ever seen someone at the end of a race, tears of joy running down her face. She also had really bad leg cramps and had to be taken to the medical tent, but let's focus on the positive, shall we? </div>
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Getting the medal for finishing was great, of course, but getting that extra medal for going back to back is what made it all worthwhile. Now I've done it both ways and never have to do it again. I'll certainly never do it again while I'm living in Erbil. There's no way to get the proper training in when I'm not allowed outside. </div>
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A few quick words on fueling and hydration because I know Mary and Ange want to hear about it. I used much the same approach as last year - fuel every hour, salt tab every hour, and water as often as I felt I needed it. I started out with gels and bloks for the first few hours until salted potatoes started being handed out by the race or by the spectators. I only had to take one or two more gels the rest of the way because there were enough potato stops to get me through. I drank a lot of water this year, much more than last year. Even drinking two or three sachets at each water stop, I could feel myself getting dehydrated around mile 25 and was thankful to get back to a better level a few hours later. It's never good to feel goosebumps on your legs when you're running in warm sunny weather. I didn't have any of the Energade sports drink available at the aid stations. To me, the stuff tastes foul, so I got my electrolytes from the salt tabs. I also drank a lot of Coke. Holly made me start drinking it when I was feeling nauseous and didn't want to eat anything. It might be horrible for you, but it sure is great ultra fuel, even if it wasn't flat like I've had in the past.</div>
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Johnhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00180345730200342103noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5358721804853628200.post-48387307453619429362015-02-13T14:21:00.000+03:002015-02-13T14:31:42.314+03:00Brave New World<div style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">
After years of poking, prodding, and not-so-subtle pressure from my wife, my coach, and my running spouse, I finally dipped a toe into the world of triathlon. I have no one to really blame for this except me. I set out to buy a bike and a trainer to bring with me to Erbil so I'd have a way to workout for Comrades that didn't involve sessions of 4+ hours on a treadmill. I figured sitting on a bike and watching a movie for a few hours would be more tolerable. While we were home in Florida over the holidays, I picked up this beauty, got a <a href="http://catonefitness.com/" target="_blank">professional fit from one of the top fitters in the country</a>, and left t<a href="http://www.winterparkcycles.com/" target="_blank">he store</a> with all the gear and crap I'll need to ride it. Side note: Adam, the guy who did the fit, was eternally patient with me. He knew I was a new biker and took his time to help me get my cleats into the pedals (apparently Speedplay are great once you're using them; they're not so good for novices like me to learn to clip in and out of), explain all of the measurements he was taking, and talk me through the whole process. As a former engineer, I was fascinated by watching all the sensors hooked up to me show their data as a little cartoon stick figure pedaling away on the screen.</div>
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It took less time than the car ride home for Heather to inform me that after spending thousands of dollars on a bike and gear, I had no choice but to start training for a tri. Within an hour of posting a picture of the bike on Facebook, Mary emailed to tell me she was adding swim and bike workouts into my schedule as soon as I returned to Dubai. I landed in Dubai on 1/19, set the trainer up a few days later, and learned very quickly during my first workout that indoor riding is hot and sweaty. I was far more drenched after an hour than I am running outdoors for the same period at this time of year.<br />
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A week later, I found out about a <a href="http://www.uaetricamps.com/" target="_blank">beginner's triathlon training camp</a> that some volunteer coaches from <a href="http://tridubai.org/" target="_blank">Tri Dubai</a> were offering nearby. Needless to say, I signed up immediately. We spent the weekend at a really eclectic and oddly entertaining resort in Ras Al Khaimah, a few hours north of Dubai. This is the email I sent Mary about what the experience was like.<br />
<blockquote>
1. Wet suits are awesome! They keep my legs up. </blockquote>
<blockquote>
2. My stroke is stuck in high school. Not enough glide, hands cross in front, big S curve during my pull, hands enter angled with thumb into water first, all of which combine to make my hips wiggle. And we haven't even watched the video yet. It's clear to the coach that I was trained for racing and not for longer distance endurance swimming. She swims an Ironman in an hour or so, so I'm assuming she
knows what she's talking about. :) </blockquote>
<blockquote>
3. Tri bikes are very twitchy and squirrelly. You probably knew that, but it was quite a surprise to me. It was all I could do to keep my balance when moving my hands from the aero bars to the handle bars. Getting my bottle out of the cage was an adventure to say the least. And let's not mention how I kept weaving all over the road every time I turned my head one way or the other. </blockquote>
<blockquote>
4. Speedplay cleats are great when I'm clipped in. They're a complete pain in the ass to get clipped in. I spent the first 3-400 meters of each lap during our transition training just trying to get them in and hear that lovely "click."
Speaking of clipping in, I fell over with one foot in and one foot out before we even started our first ride of the weekend. In the parking lot. In front of the whole training group. Sigh. </blockquote>
<blockquote>
It really was a fun and enjoyable weekend. Lots of great swimming and biking
drills, coaches who knew a ton about their best discipline, and a helpful and
friendly bunch of people there with me.</blockquote>
Thanks to all the support and advice I received from everyone, I decided to go whole hog and enter a sprint tri the following weekend. It helped knowing that I'd be riding up to the race with one of my fellow campers who could show me how to get everything set up in transition. I knew the swim would be fine and the run wouldn't be a problem, but I was just a bit nervous about getting on the bike in a race given my dismal performance with clipping in at the camp. Turns out a generous application of dry lube on the cleats, springs, and pedals can help even a rookie like me get clipped in within a 50-100 feet. Recycling my email to Mary once again, here's how the race went:<br />
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I had a great time! Best part was kicking ass and passing people on the run. :) </blockquote>
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Swim - not bad for my first one. Total chaos in the water because they had to swim both the sprint & Olympic on the same short course when the fog rolled in. I never got kicked but gave & got a few elbows along the way. Was breathing very hard by the
end. Definitely took some serious effort to get my heart rate down coming out of the water. </blockquote>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Trying to get my cap off while unzipping the suit. Not smooth.</td></tr>
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T1 - slow. Not smooth in running while peeling off my suit. Shoes & socks on pretty
fast. Helmet strap came out of the buckle so I had to stop & rethread it before
starting my ride. Ate some bloks while leaving to avoid having to try it on the
bike.</blockquote>
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Bike - clipped in fast for me. Yay lots of dry lube. Managed to keep a decent pace
for all three laps. Had to learn to downshift coming into the uturn so as not to
struggle coming out. Only made that mistake once. Passed some people and happy about
that. Learned that a tri bike & aero bars are really much faster than a road bike
when it's windy.</blockquote>
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T2 - unclipped okay. Hard to run in bike shoes. Fast shoe change and out on the run. </blockquote>
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Run - Legs just wanted to turn over quickly coming off the bike so I let them.
Started around 7:30 and settled in at 8. Total focus on sub-25 time. Made it by 5
seconds. :) Legs felt really strange. Not like jello, more like they were tired but
still going fast. Does that make sense? It was like "jeez, I'm barely going" with
"wow, how can I be this fast"</blockquote>
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Had a blast overall. Tons of work but really fun.</blockquote>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2mc_O4jVSSxjYslRRX6wCIOyu2QwRMEFX23CKrJiJxtaQO60S5l0Z8B7b27rjJpovhln99iL1lO64rr_BXlBv9s_-LvWo8vpk8Tg8mWr2fsZoxXKUidIexFUJyMQE1s_Fcl9xU7uCbTc/s1600/IMG_0991.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2mc_O4jVSSxjYslRRX6wCIOyu2QwRMEFX23CKrJiJxtaQO60S5l0Z8B7b27rjJpovhln99iL1lO64rr_BXlBv9s_-LvWo8vpk8Tg8mWr2fsZoxXKUidIexFUJyMQE1s_Fcl9xU7uCbTc/s1600/IMG_0991.JPG" height="320" width="240" /></a></div>
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</div>Johnhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00180345730200342103noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5358721804853628200.post-36967819266821029572014-09-01T09:01:00.000+03:002014-09-01T09:01:54.646+03:00Stuck in DubaiOkay, so we're not exactly stuck as bad as <a href="http://www.panarabiaenquirer.com/wordpress/man-lost-in-dubai-mall-for-13-months-describes-ordeal/" target="_blank">this guy</a>, or <a href="http://www.abc.net.au/foreign/content/2014/s3981125.htm" target="_blank">this guy</a>, and yes, it's not exactly a bad place to be stuck, but we're still stuck. We're living in The Address hotel at the Dubai Marina for at least another month. It's a pretty nice hotel with good food and free drinks in the lounge every night, but it's still a hotel. We're dying for a real fridge, a comfortable couch, and to see the rest of our belongings. Most of mine are either in Erbil already or on a shrink-wrapped pallet in the Allied warehouse in Doha waiting to be sent to Erbil. Heather's are in a container on the <a href="http://www.vesselfinder.com/?imo=9333034" target="_blank">Maersk Detroit</a>, currently west of the Azores making its way across the Atlantic to the US. We've hit the Dubai Mall a few times to buy clothes for work and for working out, though I'm fully prepared for another dive trip should the opportunity arise.<br />
<br />
The worst part, really, is not knowing when we'll be moving somewhere else. We're heading back to the US for a vacation and business trip at the end of the month, but everything after that is still up in the air. The company has given no indication as to when they'll make a decision about sending people back to Erbil, sending us to Houston, or keeping us here. All depends on how calm the situation around Erbil remains and the continued effectiveness of the ongoing US air strikes. In the meantime, we'll be here in Dubai, working out of a hotel conference room. Bleh.<br />
<br />
On a totally unrelated topic, does anyone reading this know anything about buying watches online? I've got a few I'm interested in from <a href="http://www.jaeger-lecoultre.com/US/en/luxury-watches/home-page" target="_blank">Jaeger-LeCoultre</a>. They're much cheaper online, but I'm a little leery of the after-sale service and warranty work should anything go wrong, as compared to buying from a retail store you can walk into and deal with directly. Anyone have any experience or helpful advice?Johnhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00180345730200342103noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5358721804853628200.post-25706048214859408432014-06-28T10:33:00.000+03:002014-06-28T10:33:40.438+03:00Comrades - Training, Pacing, and Fueling<div style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">
<u>Training</u><br />
My training plan was developed by my friend and coach <a href="http://www.trimoxiecoaching.com/mary-bio.html" target="_blank">Mary Holt-Wilson</a> of <a href="http://www.trimoxiecoaching.com/index.html" target="_blank">TriMoxie</a>.
She blended the plan from Hal Higdon that I used when I ran the Rocky Raccoon
50-mile trail run in 2006 with the official one from the Comrades web site, and
added her own ideas to create one that suited me and my schedule. The primary focus
was using back-to-back long runs on the weekend to build endurance and get me used
too running on tired legs. Mileage built from 40 miles a week for most of January, February and March to 50-55 miles a week in April and early May, with the long runs
typically 2.5-3.5 hours on Friday and 2-3 hours on Saturday. My peak long run week
was the first week of May and culminated with 2 hours on Thursday and 4 hours on
Friday. Monday and Wednesday were usually easy runs of an hour or so, Tuesday was up
to an hour and a half including 30-40 minutes of hill repeats, and Sunday and
Thursday were rest days.<br />
<br />
Three races formed an important part of my training. First up was the Dubai marathon in January. I used that as my official qualifier for Comrades (everyone must run a marathon under five hours in order to be an official Comrades entrant), and while I didn't hit the 3:45 I was hoping for, my time of 4:05 is still pretty good. Next up was the Wadi Bih 50k run in early February, 25 km up a mountain in Oman and then back down. Great practice for fueling, running on rolling terrain, and climbing and ascending steep hills, not to mention getting accustomed to running long distances. The third race was a 50k night race here in Doha in early March. It was 10 laps of a 5 km loop on cobblestones, only good for fueling, mental toughness, and running long distances when tired, which, really, are things you need to be good at when doing something like Comrades.<br />
<br />
My monthly mileage was:<br />
Jan - 128<br />
Feb - 105<br />
Mar - 143 (including ten days of no running while on vacation)<br />
Apr - 205<br />
May - 146</div>
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Another key component of my training was yoga. I took classes several times a week,
the most important ones of which were my wife Heather's on Monday and Wednesday
nights. She develops a new lesson plan for each class and always incorporates a lot
of core work and hip flexibility/stretching poses, two things that were absolutely
critical for me a) getting to the starting line injury-free, and b) getting across
the finish line without having that feeling of total exhaustion, the one that comes
when your core gets overworked and tired, at any point during the race.
</div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">
<u>Pacing</u><br />
My plan for the race was pretty simple: run at a comfortable pace whenever possible, walk or power walk the steeper hills when necessary, and be gentle on the downhills to protect my quads for later. The plan worked beyond my wildest dreams. I never felt exhausted, never hit the kind of low points that I did during Two Oceans last year, and ran a very strong second half of the race. Here are my placings at the timing mats during the race. I'm thrilled with how steady I stayed while much of the field was slowing down around me. Nice to see that I ran all of the second half intervals faster than the many of the people who finished in front of me. Being conservative at the beginning paid huge dividends at the end. I'm also extremely proud of the basically even split for the race. 5:17 for the first half and 5:23 for the second is pretty damn good. Most of those 426 people I passed in the last 7 km were in the 11-hour bus.</div>
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</div>
<table align="center" border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="participant_table_data" style="background-color: white; border: 0px; color: black; font-family: Helvetica, Arial; font-size: 11px; font-weight: bold; width: 705px;"><tbody>
<tr><td align="left" class="split_hdr" style="border-bottom-color: rgb(150, 150, 150); border-bottom-style: solid; border-bottom-width: 1px; height: 18px; padding-right: 3px;" valign="bottom">location</td><td align="right" class="split_hdr" style="border-bottom-color: rgb(150, 150, 150); border-bottom-style: solid; border-bottom-width: 1px; height: 18px; padding-right: 3px;" valign="bottom">time</td><td align="center" class="split_hdr" style="border-bottom-color: rgb(150, 150, 150); border-bottom-style: solid; border-bottom-width: 1px; height: 18px; padding-right: 3px;" valign="bottom">speed</td><td align="center" class="split_hdr" style="border-bottom-color: rgb(150, 150, 150); border-bottom-style: solid; border-bottom-width: 1px; height: 18px; padding-right: 3px;" valign="bottom">o/a</td><td align="center" class="split_hdr" style="border-bottom-color: rgb(150, 150, 150); border-bottom-style: solid; border-bottom-width: 1px; height: 18px; padding-right: 3px;" valign="bottom">sex</td><td align="center" class="split_hdr" style="border-bottom-color: rgb(150, 150, 150); border-bottom-style: solid; border-bottom-width: 1px; height: 18px; padding-right: 3px;" valign="bottom">cat</td><td align="right" class="split_hdr" style="border-bottom-color: rgb(150, 150, 150); border-bottom-style: solid; border-bottom-width: 1px; height: 18px; padding-right: 3px;" valign="bottom">split</td><td align="center" class="split_hdr" style="border-bottom-color: rgb(150, 150, 150); border-bottom-style: solid; border-bottom-width: 1px; height: 18px; padding-right: 3px;" valign="bottom">speed</td><td align="center" class="split_hdr" style="border-bottom-color: rgb(150, 150, 150); border-bottom-style: solid; border-bottom-width: 1px; height: 18px; padding-right: 3px;" valign="bottom">o/a</td><td align="center" class="split_hdr" style="border-bottom-color: rgb(150, 150, 150); border-bottom-style: solid; border-bottom-width: 1px; height: 18px; padding-right: 3px;" valign="bottom">sex</td><td align="center" class="split_hdr" style="border-bottom-color: rgb(150, 150, 150); border-bottom-style: solid; border-bottom-width: 1px; height: 18px; padding-right: 3px;" valign="bottom">cat</td><td align="right" class="split_hdr" style="border-bottom-color: rgb(150, 150, 150); border-bottom-style: solid; border-bottom-width: 1px; height: 18px; padding-right: 3px;" valign="bottom">time of day</td></tr>
<tr><td align="left" class="split_time" style="border-bottom-color: rgb(150, 150, 150); border-bottom-style: solid; border-bottom-width: 1px; border-right-color: rgb(220, 220, 220); border-right-style: solid; border-right-width: 1px; font-weight: normal; height: 18px; padding-right: 3px;">17,50 km Lion Park</td><td align="right" class="details_racetime" style="background-color: #cee3e4; border-bottom-color: rgb(150, 150, 150); border-bottom-style: solid; border-bottom-width: 1px; border-right-color: rgb(220, 220, 220); border-right-style: solid; border-right-width: 1px; font-weight: normal; height: 18px; padding-right: 3px;">2:00:18</td><td align="center" class="details_racetime" style="background-color: #cee3e4; border-bottom-color: rgb(150, 150, 150); border-bottom-style: solid; border-bottom-width: 1px; border-right-color: rgb(220, 220, 220); border-right-style: solid; border-right-width: 1px; font-weight: normal; height: 18px; padding-right: 3px;">6:53 min/km</td><td align="center" class="details_racetime" style="background-color: #cee3e4; border-bottom-color: rgb(150, 150, 150); border-bottom-style: solid; border-bottom-width: 1px; border-right-color: rgb(220, 220, 220); border-right-style: solid; border-right-width: 1px; font-weight: normal; height: 18px; padding-right: 3px;">8128</td><td align="center" class="details_racetime" style="background-color: #cee3e4; border-bottom-color: rgb(150, 150, 150); border-bottom-style: solid; border-bottom-width: 1px; border-right-color: rgb(220, 220, 220); border-right-style: solid; border-right-width: 1px; font-weight: normal; height: 18px; padding-right: 3px;">7158</td><td align="center" class="details_racetime" style="background-color: #cee3e4; border-bottom-color: rgb(150, 150, 150); border-bottom-style: solid; border-bottom-width: 1px; border-right-color: rgb(220, 220, 220); border-right-style: solid; border-right-width: 1px; font-weight: normal; height: 18px; padding-right: 3px;">2639</td><td align="right" class="details_splittime" style="background-color: #d4ffbf; border-bottom-color: rgb(150, 150, 150); border-bottom-style: solid; border-bottom-width: 1px; border-right-color: rgb(220, 220, 220); border-right-style: solid; border-right-width: 1px; font-weight: normal; height: 18px; padding-right: 3px;">2:00:18</td><td align="center" class="details_splittime" style="background-color: #d4ffbf; border-bottom-color: rgb(150, 150, 150); border-bottom-style: solid; border-bottom-width: 1px; border-right-color: rgb(220, 220, 220); border-right-style: solid; border-right-width: 1px; font-weight: normal; height: 18px; padding-right: 3px;">6:53 min/km</td><td align="center" class="details_splittime" style="background-color: #d4ffbf; border-bottom-color: rgb(150, 150, 150); border-bottom-style: solid; border-bottom-width: 1px; border-right-color: rgb(220, 220, 220); border-right-style: solid; border-right-width: 1px; font-weight: normal; height: 18px; padding-right: 3px;">8263</td><td align="center" class="details_splittime" style="background-color: #d4ffbf; border-bottom-color: rgb(150, 150, 150); border-bottom-style: solid; border-bottom-width: 1px; border-right-color: rgb(220, 220, 220); border-right-style: solid; border-right-width: 1px; font-weight: normal; height: 18px; padding-right: 3px;">7265</td><td align="center" class="details_splittime" style="background-color: #d4ffbf; border-bottom-color: rgb(150, 150, 150); border-bottom-style: solid; border-bottom-width: 1px; border-right-color: rgb(220, 220, 220); border-right-style: solid; border-right-width: 1px; font-weight: normal; height: 18px; padding-right: 3px;">2680</td><td align="right" class="split_time" style="border-bottom-color: rgb(150, 150, 150); border-bottom-style: solid; border-bottom-width: 1px; border-right-color: rgb(220, 220, 220); border-right-style: solid; border-right-width: 1px; font-weight: normal; height: 18px; padding-right: 3px;">07:30:19</td></tr>
<tr><td align="left" class="split_time" style="border-bottom-color: rgb(150, 150, 150); border-bottom-style: solid; border-bottom-width: 1px; border-right-color: rgb(220, 220, 220); border-right-style: solid; border-right-width: 1px; font-weight: normal; height: 18px; padding-right: 3px;">44,97 km Halfway</td><td align="right" class="details_racetime" style="background-color: #cee3e4; border-bottom-color: rgb(150, 150, 150); border-bottom-style: solid; border-bottom-width: 1px; border-right-color: rgb(220, 220, 220); border-right-style: solid; border-right-width: 1px; font-weight: normal; height: 18px; padding-right: 3px;">5:17:23</td><td align="center" class="details_racetime" style="background-color: #cee3e4; border-bottom-color: rgb(150, 150, 150); border-bottom-style: solid; border-bottom-width: 1px; border-right-color: rgb(220, 220, 220); border-right-style: solid; border-right-width: 1px; font-weight: normal; height: 18px; padding-right: 3px;">7:04 min/km</td><td align="center" class="details_racetime" style="background-color: #cee3e4; border-bottom-color: rgb(150, 150, 150); border-bottom-style: solid; border-bottom-width: 1px; border-right-color: rgb(220, 220, 220); border-right-style: solid; border-right-width: 1px; font-weight: normal; height: 18px; padding-right: 3px;">8754</td><td align="center" class="details_racetime" style="background-color: #cee3e4; border-bottom-color: rgb(150, 150, 150); border-bottom-style: solid; border-bottom-width: 1px; border-right-color: rgb(220, 220, 220); border-right-style: solid; border-right-width: 1px; font-weight: normal; height: 18px; padding-right: 3px;">7530</td><td align="center" class="details_racetime" style="background-color: #cee3e4; border-bottom-color: rgb(150, 150, 150); border-bottom-style: solid; border-bottom-width: 1px; border-right-color: rgb(220, 220, 220); border-right-style: solid; border-right-width: 1px; font-weight: normal; height: 18px; padding-right: 3px;">2770</td><td align="right" class="details_splittime" style="background-color: #d4ffbf; border-bottom-color: rgb(150, 150, 150); border-bottom-style: solid; border-bottom-width: 1px; border-right-color: rgb(220, 220, 220); border-right-style: solid; border-right-width: 1px; font-weight: normal; height: 18px; padding-right: 3px;">3:17:06</td><td align="center" class="details_splittime" style="background-color: #d4ffbf; border-bottom-color: rgb(150, 150, 150); border-bottom-style: solid; border-bottom-width: 1px; border-right-color: rgb(220, 220, 220); border-right-style: solid; border-right-width: 1px; font-weight: normal; height: 18px; padding-right: 3px;">7:11 min/km</td><td align="center" class="details_splittime" style="background-color: #d4ffbf; border-bottom-color: rgb(150, 150, 150); border-bottom-style: solid; border-bottom-width: 1px; border-right-color: rgb(220, 220, 220); border-right-style: solid; border-right-width: 1px; font-weight: normal; height: 18px; padding-right: 3px;">9181</td><td align="center" class="details_splittime" style="background-color: #d4ffbf; border-bottom-color: rgb(150, 150, 150); border-bottom-style: solid; border-bottom-width: 1px; border-right-color: rgb(220, 220, 220); border-right-style: solid; border-right-width: 1px; font-weight: normal; height: 18px; padding-right: 3px;">7716</td><td align="center" class="details_splittime" style="background-color: #d4ffbf; border-bottom-color: rgb(150, 150, 150); border-bottom-style: solid; border-bottom-width: 1px; border-right-color: rgb(220, 220, 220); border-right-style: solid; border-right-width: 1px; font-weight: normal; height: 18px; padding-right: 3px;">2819</td><td align="right" class="split_time" style="border-bottom-color: rgb(150, 150, 150); border-bottom-style: solid; border-bottom-width: 1px; border-right-color: rgb(220, 220, 220); border-right-style: solid; border-right-width: 1px; font-weight: normal; height: 18px; padding-right: 3px;">10:47:24</td></tr>
<tr><td align="left" class="split_time" style="border-bottom-color: rgb(150, 150, 150); border-bottom-style: solid; border-bottom-width: 1px; border-right-color: rgb(220, 220, 220); border-right-style: solid; border-right-width: 1px; font-weight: normal; height: 18px; padding-right: 3px;">58,27 km Winston Park</td><td align="right" class="details_racetime" style="background-color: #cee3e4; border-bottom-color: rgb(150, 150, 150); border-bottom-style: solid; border-bottom-width: 1px; border-right-color: rgb(220, 220, 220); border-right-style: solid; border-right-width: 1px; font-weight: normal; height: 18px; padding-right: 3px;">6:58:07</td><td align="center" class="details_racetime" style="background-color: #cee3e4; border-bottom-color: rgb(150, 150, 150); border-bottom-style: solid; border-bottom-width: 1px; border-right-color: rgb(220, 220, 220); border-right-style: solid; border-right-width: 1px; font-weight: normal; height: 18px; padding-right: 3px;">7:11 min/km</td><td align="center" class="details_racetime" style="background-color: #cee3e4; border-bottom-color: rgb(150, 150, 150); border-bottom-style: solid; border-bottom-width: 1px; border-right-color: rgb(220, 220, 220); border-right-style: solid; border-right-width: 1px; font-weight: normal; height: 18px; padding-right: 3px;">7786</td><td align="center" class="details_racetime" style="background-color: #cee3e4; border-bottom-color: rgb(150, 150, 150); border-bottom-style: solid; border-bottom-width: 1px; border-right-color: rgb(220, 220, 220); border-right-style: solid; border-right-width: 1px; font-weight: normal; height: 18px; padding-right: 3px;">6679</td><td align="center" class="details_racetime" style="background-color: #cee3e4; border-bottom-color: rgb(150, 150, 150); border-bottom-style: solid; border-bottom-width: 1px; border-right-color: rgb(220, 220, 220); border-right-style: solid; border-right-width: 1px; font-weight: normal; height: 18px; padding-right: 3px;">2452</td><td align="right" class="details_splittime" style="background-color: #d4ffbf; border-bottom-color: rgb(150, 150, 150); border-bottom-style: solid; border-bottom-width: 1px; border-right-color: rgb(220, 220, 220); border-right-style: solid; border-right-width: 1px; font-weight: normal; height: 18px; padding-right: 3px;">1:40:44</td><td align="center" class="details_splittime" style="background-color: #d4ffbf; border-bottom-color: rgb(150, 150, 150); border-bottom-style: solid; border-bottom-width: 1px; border-right-color: rgb(220, 220, 220); border-right-style: solid; border-right-width: 1px; font-weight: normal; height: 18px; padding-right: 3px;">7:35 min/km</td><td align="center" class="details_splittime" style="background-color: #d4ffbf; border-bottom-color: rgb(150, 150, 150); border-bottom-style: solid; border-bottom-width: 1px; border-right-color: rgb(220, 220, 220); border-right-style: solid; border-right-width: 1px; font-weight: normal; height: 18px; padding-right: 3px;">5628</td><td align="center" class="details_splittime" style="background-color: #d4ffbf; border-bottom-color: rgb(150, 150, 150); border-bottom-style: solid; border-bottom-width: 1px; border-right-color: rgb(220, 220, 220); border-right-style: solid; border-right-width: 1px; font-weight: normal; height: 18px; padding-right: 3px;">4710</td><td align="center" class="details_splittime" style="background-color: #d4ffbf; border-bottom-color: rgb(150, 150, 150); border-bottom-style: solid; border-bottom-width: 1px; border-right-color: rgb(220, 220, 220); border-right-style: solid; border-right-width: 1px; font-weight: normal; height: 18px; padding-right: 3px;">1718</td><td align="right" class="split_time" style="border-bottom-color: rgb(150, 150, 150); border-bottom-style: solid; border-bottom-width: 1px; border-right-color: rgb(220, 220, 220); border-right-style: solid; border-right-width: 1px; font-weight: normal; height: 18px; padding-right: 3px;">12:28:07</td></tr>
<tr><td align="left" class="split_time" style="border-bottom-color: rgb(150, 150, 150); border-bottom-style: solid; border-bottom-width: 1px; border-right-color: rgb(220, 220, 220); border-right-style: solid; border-right-width: 1px; font-weight: normal; height: 18px; padding-right: 3px;">71,00 km Cowies Hill</td><td align="right" class="details_racetime" style="background-color: #cee3e4; border-bottom-color: rgb(150, 150, 150); border-bottom-style: solid; border-bottom-width: 1px; border-right-color: rgb(220, 220, 220); border-right-style: solid; border-right-width: 1px; font-weight: normal; height: 18px; padding-right: 3px;">8:25:30</td><td align="center" class="details_racetime" style="background-color: #cee3e4; border-bottom-color: rgb(150, 150, 150); border-bottom-style: solid; border-bottom-width: 1px; border-right-color: rgb(220, 220, 220); border-right-style: solid; border-right-width: 1px; font-weight: normal; height: 18px; padding-right: 3px;">7:08 min/km</td><td align="center" class="details_racetime" style="background-color: #cee3e4; border-bottom-color: rgb(150, 150, 150); border-bottom-style: solid; border-bottom-width: 1px; border-right-color: rgb(220, 220, 220); border-right-style: solid; border-right-width: 1px; font-weight: normal; height: 18px; padding-right: 3px;">6797</td><td align="center" class="details_racetime" style="background-color: #cee3e4; border-bottom-color: rgb(150, 150, 150); border-bottom-style: solid; border-bottom-width: 1px; border-right-color: rgb(220, 220, 220); border-right-style: solid; border-right-width: 1px; font-weight: normal; height: 18px; padding-right: 3px;">5837</td><td align="center" class="details_racetime" style="background-color: #cee3e4; border-bottom-color: rgb(150, 150, 150); border-bottom-style: solid; border-bottom-width: 1px; border-right-color: rgb(220, 220, 220); border-right-style: solid; border-right-width: 1px; font-weight: normal; height: 18px; padding-right: 3px;">2130</td><td align="right" class="details_splittime" style="background-color: #d4ffbf; border-bottom-color: rgb(150, 150, 150); border-bottom-style: solid; border-bottom-width: 1px; border-right-color: rgb(220, 220, 220); border-right-style: solid; border-right-width: 1px; font-weight: normal; height: 18px; padding-right: 3px;">1:27:24</td><td align="center" class="details_splittime" style="background-color: #d4ffbf; border-bottom-color: rgb(150, 150, 150); border-bottom-style: solid; border-bottom-width: 1px; border-right-color: rgb(220, 220, 220); border-right-style: solid; border-right-width: 1px; font-weight: normal; height: 18px; padding-right: 3px;">6:52 min/km</td><td align="center" class="details_splittime" style="background-color: #d4ffbf; border-bottom-color: rgb(150, 150, 150); border-bottom-style: solid; border-bottom-width: 1px; border-right-color: rgb(220, 220, 220); border-right-style: solid; border-right-width: 1px; font-weight: normal; height: 18px; padding-right: 3px;">3946</td><td align="center" class="details_splittime" style="background-color: #d4ffbf; border-bottom-color: rgb(150, 150, 150); border-bottom-style: solid; border-bottom-width: 1px; border-right-color: rgb(220, 220, 220); border-right-style: solid; border-right-width: 1px; font-weight: normal; height: 18px; padding-right: 3px;">3356</td><td align="center" class="details_splittime" style="background-color: #d4ffbf; border-bottom-color: rgb(150, 150, 150); border-bottom-style: solid; border-bottom-width: 1px; border-right-color: rgb(220, 220, 220); border-right-style: solid; border-right-width: 1px; font-weight: normal; height: 18px; padding-right: 3px;">1201</td><td align="right" class="split_time" style="border-bottom-color: rgb(150, 150, 150); border-bottom-style: solid; border-bottom-width: 1px; border-right-color: rgb(220, 220, 220); border-right-style: solid; border-right-width: 1px; font-weight: normal; height: 18px; padding-right: 3px;">13:55:31</td></tr>
<tr><td align="left" class="split_time" style="border-bottom-color: rgb(150, 150, 150); border-bottom-style: solid; border-bottom-width: 1px; border-right-color: rgb(220, 220, 220); border-right-style: solid; border-right-width: 1px; font-weight: normal; height: 18px; padding-right: 3px;">82,28 km Mayville</td><td align="right" class="details_racetime" style="background-color: #cee3e4; border-bottom-color: rgb(150, 150, 150); border-bottom-style: solid; border-bottom-width: 1px; border-right-color: rgb(220, 220, 220); border-right-style: solid; border-right-width: 1px; font-weight: normal; height: 18px; padding-right: 3px;">9:52:01</td><td align="center" class="details_racetime" style="background-color: #cee3e4; border-bottom-color: rgb(150, 150, 150); border-bottom-style: solid; border-bottom-width: 1px; border-right-color: rgb(220, 220, 220); border-right-style: solid; border-right-width: 1px; font-weight: normal; height: 18px; padding-right: 3px;">7:12 min/km</td><td align="center" class="details_racetime" style="background-color: #cee3e4; border-bottom-color: rgb(150, 150, 150); border-bottom-style: solid; border-bottom-width: 1px; border-right-color: rgb(220, 220, 220); border-right-style: solid; border-right-width: 1px; font-weight: normal; height: 18px; padding-right: 3px;">6414</td><td align="center" class="details_racetime" style="background-color: #cee3e4; border-bottom-color: rgb(150, 150, 150); border-bottom-style: solid; border-bottom-width: 1px; border-right-color: rgb(220, 220, 220); border-right-style: solid; border-right-width: 1px; font-weight: normal; height: 18px; padding-right: 3px;">5471</td><td align="center" class="details_racetime" style="background-color: #cee3e4; border-bottom-color: rgb(150, 150, 150); border-bottom-style: solid; border-bottom-width: 1px; border-right-color: rgb(220, 220, 220); border-right-style: solid; border-right-width: 1px; font-weight: normal; height: 18px; padding-right: 3px;">2020</td><td align="right" class="details_splittime" style="background-color: #d4ffbf; border-bottom-color: rgb(150, 150, 150); border-bottom-style: solid; border-bottom-width: 1px; border-right-color: rgb(220, 220, 220); border-right-style: solid; border-right-width: 1px; font-weight: normal; height: 18px; padding-right: 3px;">1:26:31</td><td align="center" class="details_splittime" style="background-color: #d4ffbf; border-bottom-color: rgb(150, 150, 150); border-bottom-style: solid; border-bottom-width: 1px; border-right-color: rgb(220, 220, 220); border-right-style: solid; border-right-width: 1px; font-weight: normal; height: 18px; padding-right: 3px;">7:41 min/km</td><td align="center" class="details_splittime" style="background-color: #d4ffbf; border-bottom-color: rgb(150, 150, 150); border-bottom-style: solid; border-bottom-width: 1px; border-right-color: rgb(220, 220, 220); border-right-style: solid; border-right-width: 1px; font-weight: normal; height: 18px; padding-right: 3px;">4645</td><td align="center" class="details_splittime" style="background-color: #d4ffbf; border-bottom-color: rgb(150, 150, 150); border-bottom-style: solid; border-bottom-width: 1px; border-right-color: rgb(220, 220, 220); border-right-style: solid; border-right-width: 1px; font-weight: normal; height: 18px; padding-right: 3px;">3803</td><td align="center" class="details_splittime" style="background-color: #d4ffbf; border-bottom-color: rgb(150, 150, 150); border-bottom-style: solid; border-bottom-width: 1px; border-right-color: rgb(220, 220, 220); border-right-style: solid; border-right-width: 1px; font-weight: normal; height: 18px; padding-right: 3px;">1421</td><td align="right" class="split_time" style="border-bottom-color: rgb(150, 150, 150); border-bottom-style: solid; border-bottom-width: 1px; border-right-color: rgb(220, 220, 220); border-right-style: solid; border-right-width: 1px; font-weight: normal; height: 18px; padding-right: 3px;">15:22:01</td></tr>
<tr><td align="left" class="split_time" style="border-bottom-color: rgb(150, 150, 150); border-bottom-style: solid; border-bottom-width: 1px; border-right-color: rgb(220, 220, 220); border-right-style: solid; border-right-width: 1px; font-weight: normal; height: 18px; padding-right: 3px;">89,28 km Durban</td><td align="right" class="details_racetime" style="background-color: #cee3e4; border-bottom-color: rgb(150, 150, 150); border-bottom-style: solid; border-bottom-width: 1px; border-right-color: rgb(220, 220, 220); border-right-style: solid; border-right-width: 1px; font-weight: normal; height: 18px; padding-right: 3px;">10:40:14</td><td align="center" class="details_racetime" style="background-color: #cee3e4; border-bottom-color: rgb(150, 150, 150); border-bottom-style: solid; border-bottom-width: 1px; border-right-color: rgb(220, 220, 220); border-right-style: solid; border-right-width: 1px; font-weight: normal; height: 18px; padding-right: 3px;">7:11 min/km</td><td align="center" class="details_racetime" style="background-color: #cee3e4; border-bottom-color: rgb(150, 150, 150); border-bottom-style: solid; border-bottom-width: 1px; border-right-color: rgb(220, 220, 220); border-right-style: solid; border-right-width: 1px; font-weight: normal; height: 18px; padding-right: 3px;">5988</td><td align="center" class="details_racetime" style="background-color: #cee3e4; border-bottom-color: rgb(150, 150, 150); border-bottom-style: solid; border-bottom-width: 1px; border-right-color: rgb(220, 220, 220); border-right-style: solid; border-right-width: 1px; font-weight: normal; height: 18px; padding-right: 3px;">5113</td><td align="center" class="details_racetime" style="background-color: #cee3e4; border-bottom-color: rgb(150, 150, 150); border-bottom-style: solid; border-bottom-width: 1px; border-right-color: rgb(220, 220, 220); border-right-style: solid; border-right-width: 1px; font-weight: normal; height: 18px; padding-right: 3px;">1899</td><td align="right" class="details_splittime" style="background-color: #d4ffbf; border-bottom-color: rgb(150, 150, 150); border-bottom-style: solid; border-bottom-width: 1px; border-right-color: rgb(220, 220, 220); border-right-style: solid; border-right-width: 1px; font-weight: normal; height: 18px; padding-right: 3px;">48:14</td><td align="center" class="details_splittime" style="background-color: #d4ffbf; border-bottom-color: rgb(150, 150, 150); border-bottom-style: solid; border-bottom-width: 1px; border-right-color: rgb(220, 220, 220); border-right-style: solid; border-right-width: 1px; font-weight: normal; height: 18px; padding-right: 3px;">6:54 min/km</td><td align="center" class="details_splittime" style="background-color: #d4ffbf; border-bottom-color: rgb(150, 150, 150); border-bottom-style: solid; border-bottom-width: 1px; border-right-color: rgb(220, 220, 220); border-right-style: solid; border-right-width: 1px; font-weight: normal; height: 18px; padding-right: 3px;">3677</td><td align="center" class="details_splittime" style="background-color: #d4ffbf; border-bottom-color: rgb(150, 150, 150); border-bottom-style: solid; border-bottom-width: 1px; border-right-color: rgb(220, 220, 220); border-right-style: solid; border-right-width: 1px; font-weight: normal; height: 18px; padding-right: 3px;">3087</td><td align="center" class="details_splittime" style="background-color: #d4ffbf; border-bottom-color: rgb(150, 150, 150); border-bottom-style: solid; border-bottom-width: 1px; border-right-color: rgb(220, 220, 220); border-right-style: solid; border-right-width: 1px; font-weight: normal; height: 18px; padding-right: 3px;">1149</td><td align="right" class="split_time" style="border-bottom-color: rgb(150, 150, 150); border-bottom-style: solid; border-bottom-width: 1px; border-right-color: rgb(220, 220, 220); border-right-style: solid; border-right-width: 1px; font-weight: normal; height: 18px; padding-right: 3px;">16:10:15</td></tr>
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<u>Fueling</u><br />
I began to focus on my fueling a week before the race, slowly reducing my intake of the spicy foods I love to eat and replacing them with bland and easy to digest carbs. Friday was a big breakfast after our easy morning run; chicken enchilada and rice for lunch; Italian for dinner (foccacia, calimari, ham, pasta, pesto, etc.).<br />
Saturday - huge breakfast of pancakes, bacon, sausage, and toast. Light-ish dinner of pasta and potatoes. Lots of water and Powerade all day. Two tablets of high-test Imodium in the latter half of the day.<br />
Sunday - Clif bar and half a peanut butter sandwich for breakfast at 3am, along with one last Imodium. I sipped Powerade until getting in the shuttle at 4. I started out with a gel and a salt tab every hour. 1-2 sachets of water at each water stop starting around 10-15 km. Only 1-2 sachets of Energade the whole race (it’s pretty foul compared to Powerade and Gatorade). I grabbed salted potatoes whenever I found them being offered by the aid stations or by the spectators along the route. 2-3 water sachets per water stop the second half of the race (stops along the entire route were ~2 km apart). I took another salt tab and a gel or 3 bloks if an hour had gone by without any potatoes. I had to stop to pee twice (10-15 km in and maybe 70 km in) and use the porta-potty once (at 30 km or so). Along with my conservative pacing strategy, my fueling plan helped keep me strong through the end of the race. I was tired, of course, but never felt like I had run out of energy in my body, mind, or legs.</div>
Johnhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00180345730200342103noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5358721804853628200.post-43594910404490537272014-06-16T13:09:00.000+03:002014-06-16T17:32:13.947+03:00Comrades Marathon Race Report<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;"><b><u>Race Day</u></b><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">This was it, the day I'd been working and training and looking forward to for what seemed like forever. And I was right, the alarm rang (really, the iPhone emitted some lovely electronic tones) way too early. I was already awake, as I had been for a while. Even with taking melatonin, I didn’t get much sleep, maybe 3-4 hours or so. I wasn't all that nervous, though I guess my brain just didn't want to slow down and relax. Once I got up, I popped my last pill, ate my breakfast (Clif bar and half of a peanut butter sandwich), started sipping on my Powerade, and made a few trips to the bathroom to try to make sure I was as empty as possible. Holly was doing the same thing, and it was pretty humorous. We looked like little kids just learning to be potty trained – into the bathroom, back out, wait ten minutes, lather, rinse, repeat. I'm not sure it was helping any, but it gave us a way to occupy our time and procrastinate before gearing up. I applied as much BodyGlide as I possibly could to any and all areas and body parts that might chafe during the run, stuck my trusty Band-aids on my chest, put on my clothes, grabbed the drop bag, and went down to the lobby to find the shuttle.</div>
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<div style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">As expected, the shuttle was there at 330 but not really planning to leave any time soon. We sat in the lobby for a bit, moved ourselves to the van, and sat some more. I took advantage of the delay for one more trip to the restroom (success!). Back in the van, no one was saying much. I think we were all in our own space trying to mentally prepare for the day's adventure. The driver did have the music blasting, though. Nothing like Will Smith's Gettin' Jiggy Wit It at 4am before a race.</div>
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<div style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">The trip to the start was as easy as could be. Coming from the northern side of PMB, there was no traffic at all, and we were dropped off about 200 meters from the starting area about 15 minutes after we left the hotel. Holly, Erin, and I said goodbye to Tee and Scott (they were in different corrals than we were), brought our drop bags to the trucks, and entered corral F. I was shocked at how few people were there with an hour to go before the 530 start. Not only was our corral empty, all the other ones were too, and there was no real line at the porta-pottys. We worked our way to the front of the corral and started keeping an eye out for Wendy. The plan was to meet her at the front left corner of corral F. She has a green number signifying that she has finished at least 10 Comrades, so we figured she'd enter corral E, the green number corral, and step under the rope to join us. As we watched for Wendy, the trickle of runners walking past the corrals to bag drop and the entrances to F, G, and H turned into a flood. Arriving at the start before the buses from Durban began discharging thousands of runners was definitely a good thing and helped keep us relaxed and calm. And speaking of bag drop, people were certainly taking advantage of the race not requiring an official bag be used. I saw giant duffel bags, backpacks, and even a few wheeled suitcases being hauled over to the trucks.</div>
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<div style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">With about 25 minutes left before the start, everyone in our corral suddenly stood up. We followed suit without really knowing why or what was happening. A few seconds later, the ropes between the corrals dropped and everyone surged forward toward the start line. With a firm 12-hour gun-to-gun time limit for the race, the closer you are to the line, the less time you lose before actually starting. I'm not really a fan of gun time limits because the people who need the most time to finish lose the most getting across the line. Historically, the runners in the last corral, corral H, take 8 minutes or more to cross the line, meaning they really only have 11:52 in which to run the distance, not 12 hours.</div>
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<div style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">Now pushed forward to what used to be corral C and packed in like a mosh pit, we pretty much gave up on trying to find Wendy. It was just too crowded to spot her unless she was within about 10 feet of us. We were on our own, and I was oddly okay with that. James, Wendy, Emile, and Keith gave us lots of advice about the course, the race, and how to manage them in the days and weeks before the race, and I knew that if I trusted my training and kept their advice in mind, I'd be fine. Holly and Erin didn’t seem too concerned either, though we all knew we'd have more peace of mind having Wendy with us.</div>
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<div style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">Five minutes before the start, it was time to ditch my throw-away clothes, retie my shoes, and get myself ready to run. There were so many people picking up the tops and pants being tossed over the fence of the corral that I don't think my lovely grey PJs hit the ground for more than a second or two before being snatched up. Then came the singing of the South African national anthem (all three verses in all three languages) and Shosholoza. What an amazing moment. Tens of thousands of runners and spectators all proudly singing along with each other with a passion I've rarely seen elsewhere except for the Boston Garden after the marathon bombing last year. Truly, truly special and inspiring. In the silence after the songs, I heard the guys next to us talking about the cock crowing and getting on with the race. Sure enough, a minute or so later, the silence was broken by someone at the start letting out a huge cock crow sound. I thought that was the start of the race and pushed the Start button on my Garmin. No one was moving, so I hit Stop. Two seconds later, the gun went off, I hit Start again, and the race, at least for those up front, was underway. The rest of us were still shuffling toward the line. About three and a half minutes later, we crossed the line, heard the beep from the timing mat, and were on our way. Durban or bust, 89 km to go.</div>
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<div style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">The first few miles were gently uphill. We didn't have a problem holding our pace back because the huge field of runners was running at pretty much the same pace. We couldn't have gone any faster if we had wanted to, not that Holly didn't try. When she feels fresh and eager to run, she likes to push the pace. My job for the first third of the race was to keep her in check. There's a saying at Comrades that for every minute you go too fast in the beginning, you pay for it 10x in the end. That's not something I wanted to test the truth of, so I pulled her back when needed.</div>
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About a mile and half along, we came across a guy dressed in a rhino costume running to raise money for rhino conservation in Africa. The guy next to him was carrying the costume's head, and we heard them talking about trying to find volunteers who would each carry the head, which weighed a few kilos, for one kilometer during the run. Just as I was about to stick my hand out and hold the head for the next km, Erin read my thoughts and in no uncertain terms told me "John, no. You are not carrying that head."</div>
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We ran along in the dark enjoying the cool temperatures (it was in the low 50s at the start) and dodging road furniture (curbs, traffic medians, etc.) when after half an hour or so, the route took a sharp bend to the left. As we turned the corner, the three of us had a collective "WTF are we doing?" moment. We could see a solid stream of runners across the way making their way slowly up a hill that looked to us to be gigantic. In reality, this section of the course was only about half a mile long, dropping 60 feet from where we made the turn, and then climbing 100 feet on the other side. Not exactly a huge hill, but in the darkness at the very beginning of our first Comrades, it was enough to make us wonder what all the truly big hills would be like.</div>
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In the small neighborhoods leaving Pietermaritzburg, the local residents lined their front lawns and cheered for us as we went by. Most of them looked like they were going to head back to bed as soon as the tail end of the field passed by, but more than a few were starting the party early. I think it was about 640am when I spotted the first drinkers with what appeared to be whiskey and coke. I'm not sure that was any more appealing than my first gel, which I had taken along with a <a href="http://www.saltstick.com/products/sscaps/cfeatures.htm" target="_blank">salt tab</a> just a few minutes before. Erin had needed a bathroom break, a perfect opportunity for a quick pee and some refueling.</div>
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Our first real descent came on the back side of Polly Short's, about six miles in. 700 feet down in just over a mile. The sun was barely starting to light the sky, and we could see the mist of the peaks and valleys all around us. As we reached the bottom, I heard a familiar and welcome voice yell my name. I turned around stunned and amazed to see Wendy catching up to us. Turns out she had entered corral F from the back and not the front. Once the race started, she guessed correctly that we were in front of her and kept moving along until she spotted my <a href="http://sparkleathletic.com/shop/red-sparkle-running-skirt/" target="_blank">red sparkle skirt</a>. Yes, sometimes dressing silly for a race does come in handy. Needless to say, we were very happy to see her and spent the slow jog up the next hill chatting about all that had happened so far in the race and what was coming up next.</div>
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Next was a short descent down the back of Little Polly's into a pretty little valley, across a small river, and then onto the long climb towards the highest part of the route. With the sun now well up over the horizon, I finally ditched my hat and my long sleeve top. I downed my second gel and salt tab right on schedule, but quickly realized i should have waited another five minutes. The road made a 90-degree right turn into a stiff wind carrying the foul stench of the local chicken farms. The urge to vomit during a race has never been so strong. It was a long quarter of a mile before the road turned left and I could breathe deeply again.</div>
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It was in this section where I noticed Erin beginning to have trouble staying at an even pace. She would be right with us, then stop to walk, and then run to catch up again. Holly and I would keep moving on slowly, and Wendy, bless her heart, would go back for her and pull her up to us. Eventually, Holly and I told Wendy we needed to keep running. She said she's go back for Erin and to wait for them at a gas station a few miles up the road, at the end of what's called Harrison Flats. We looked at our watches to see when that would be and couldn't believe we'd covered 18 miles already. The first three hours had flown by and I was feeling great. The sun was out but behind the clouds, the breeze was keeping things cool, and the previous aid station offered salted potatoes so I was able to grab a handful of them for fuel instead of using another gel.</div>
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<div style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">When Holly and I got to the gas station just before mile 22, we were in total agreement that the Flats were not flat and that they are best described by a South African runners' guide as the graveyard section, a singularly barren stretch between the undulating grassland behind and the Valley of a Thousand Hills ahead. I took advantage of the wait for Erin and Wendy to catch up to make a bathroom run, and a few minutes later, we were on our way again.</div>
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Four hours in, we ran past the Ethembeni Home. It's a school for mentally and physically challenged children who come out onto both side the road to cheer and yell and scream for the runners as we pass by. This is one of the highlights of their year, and shaking their hands and slapping high fives with them did as much to lift their spirits as it did mine.</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://hambarobin.files.wordpress.com/2011/08/ethembeni-flickr-bestjobbens.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://hambarobin.files.wordpress.com/2011/08/ethembeni-flickr-bestjobbens.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I found this on the Internet from Comrades a few years ago</td></tr>
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I found them to be a wonderful source of inspiration as we approached Inchanga, the first really big hill of the day. Not that the others had been small, but Inchanga is a beast. You climb 300 feet in 1.5 miles on the way up and descend 450 feet in another 1.5 miles into Drummond and the halfway point. At the start of the climb, Holly took off power walking (she's a machine at that), Wendy and I alternated walking and running, and Erin was a little bit behind us. Wendy, Holly, and I agreed to meet at the top across from the Comrades sign and wait for Erin.</div>
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When I arrived at the top, I found Wendy standing on the side of the road, but Holly was nowhere to be found. I knew she wasn't behind me and told Wendy I was going to continue on to find her. Wendy said she was going to wait for Erin, and I had a feeling that was the last time I'd see either of them until the finish. As I set off down the hill, I could hear the crowds of Drummond in the distance and hoped that Holly was somewhere between here and there waiting for me. I stayed to the righthand side of the road where the camber of the road was not as sharp and kept my eyes peeled for Holly. The road was thick with runners, so finding her was not going to be easy or even very likely. Just as I was resigning myself to running the next 50 km alone, I happened to glance to the other side of the road, glimpsed a flash of red sparkle, and saw Holly standing there. Had I looked over 5 seconds earlier or later, I never would have seen her. I told her Wendy was behind us waiting for Erin. We stood there waiting for the amount of time it took me to eat a gel, at which point we made the decision to press on together without them. Kind of selfish, I know, because we'd planned on running as a group of four all day, but neither Holly nor I wanted to jeopardize our chances of finishing. At some point, you just have to go and run your own race. I felt bad about leaving them behind, but I knew they'd understand.</div>
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The atmosphere in Drummond is electric. Thousands and thousands of people line the route cheering, yelling, and screaming in support of the runners. Many of them are also handing out sliced oranges, salted potatoes, pieces of banana, chocolates, and all kinds of other goodies they know we need. Not only is this the halfway point, it's also where the first major cutoff occurs. You need to be across the timing mat in Drummond by 11:30am, six hours into the race, the thinking being that if you can't make it halfway in half the official race time, you'll never be able to negative split enough to get to the finish before the gun goes off. We crossed at 10:47 for a first half time of 5:17. Doubling that and adding time for slowing down, we figured we were looking at a finish somewhere between 11 and 11:30. Not the sub-11 we'd be hoping for, but still safely under 12 hours with plenty of cushion in case something went drastically wrong during the second half.</div>
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Climbing out of Drummond, I felt like I was a rider in a mountain stage of the Tour de France. The crowds were that big and that excited and that packed in on the road. There was barely enough room for us to run next to each other, and it was awesome. I needed that energy to drag myself up yet another hill. For a "down" run, there sure was a lot of running up. This was definitely the prettiest part of the route. Mountains and hills and valleys all around, as far as the eye could see. Along this stretch, we saw people grabbing wild flowers from the side of the road and stopping briefly a little farther on. We had reached Arthur's Seat, a spot where the ghost of Arthur Newton, a famous Comrades runner, is said to live. Arthur apparently used to stop and smoke his pipe at this location before continuing on with the race. That wouldn't work well for me, but the guys won the race five times, so maybe he was on to something. Legend says that if you greet him and leave a flower, he'll ensure you a strong second half. We didn't have any flowers but made sure we said hello and touched his plaque for good luck.
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Shortly after leaving Arthur's Seat, the 11-hour bus passed us by. It's not really a bus. It's a group of runners led by experienced pacers with the intention of finishing the race in under 11 hours. They call it a bus because of the size of the group. Whereas a typical pace group for a regular marathon might have a few dozen or even a hundred runners following along, the buses for Comrades have hundreds if not thousands of people, with the 11-hour and 12-hour buses being the largest. Sub-11 is a key finishing time for Comrades. It's the traditional finishing time before they expanded the field and added an extra hour to the race in 2003. Many experienced Comrades runners, especially the South Africans, still view 11 hours as the time to beat. Watching the bus pass us by was a bit depressing because we knew we had the ability and had trained well enough to get in under 11.</div>
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We soldiered on up Botha's Hill and began a wicked descent into Hillcrest, dropping over 500 feet in not even 1.5 miles. At the bottom, as we entered Hillcrest, we passed the 33 km sign. The markers for this race show how many kilometers you have left to go, and seeing this one was a huge mental checkmark for us. It meant we'd covered the same distance we had run at Two Oceans last year (56 km) in only 12 more minutes. Now we knew we'd be able to finish so long as we kept moving forward at at least a 15 min/mile pace. Or so we thought. For two MBA grads, we were having a hard time with math at this point. Converting from km into miles was hard enough. We then had to figure out how much time we had left for an 11:30 finish and a 12-hour finish, divide that by the miles we thought we had converted, and come up with some sort of a pace, all before the next km maker sign showed up and we had to start over again. We kept coming up with paces ranging from 12 to 16 min/mile and were never really sure which one was right.</div>
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Hillcrest is where I finally felt like I was running downhill. The slope was gentle, maybe 2-3%, but it was definitely downhill. Our pace was definitely strong and determined during the next four or five miles as we knocked them down between 10:30-11 min/mile.</div>
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Now it was Holly's turn to ask for a bathroom break, so we stopped at the next port-potties that came along. We thought there wasn't a line since we didn't see any runners waiting. Wrong. There were a few little kids standing there instead. Luckily, a guy in the crowd had seen us come over and directed us to a small trailer of VIP-type bathrooms with no line, stairs (ow!), flushing toilets, and even a sink. The extra 50 feet we traveled to get there and back was well worth it.</div>
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Not more than five minutes after we were back on course and running once again, a familiar voice called out from behind us. Wendy! Holy shit, were we happy to see her! Turns out Erin had sent her on her way shortly after they crossed the halfway point and she'd been keeping an eye out for us ever since. Score one more for the red skirts! We quickly realized how nice it was to have her back with us because she knew everybody along the route. Okay, not everyone, but she wouldn't get more than 50-100 meters without someone in the crowd shouting out to her, and we were still 10 miles from where she lives.</div>
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By now it was close to 1pm and the sun was no longer hiding behind the clouds. I began taking three of the water sachets at each stop, two to drink right away and one to carry with me. I never really felt hot, though. Warm and sweaty and covered in salt, sure, but I never came close to feeling like the heat was oppressive and beating me down. Let's hear it for training in the Doha heat all spring because a lot of the local runners around us were complaining about how hot it was, and it was maybe 80-82.</div>
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The route was taking us through lots of neighborhoods, and I kept wondering where the Green Mile was and why we hadn't reached it yet. I had it in my head that it was just around the corner and kept getting disappointed that it wasn't. Finally, we made the turn under the highway at mile 39.5 and there it was. Thousands of cheering spectators all dressed in green. Cheerleaders in bikinis (Holly said no stopping for pictures like we did in Stockholm). Bands playing. Holly pointed out the girls in swings in the trees. Not sure how I forgot about them, but I did.</div>
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As the sounds of the Green Mile faded away, we took a left turn onto the highway and began the approach to Field's Hill. This is the one we had driven up the day before and that everyone warned us was the place where many people end up ruining their race by running down too fast. I was so focused on getting prepared for the descent that I didn't even bother to look up and have a view towards Durban, the sea, and the finish line off in the distance. Probably just as well. After running 65 km to this point, it would've been a mental blow to see how far the 25 km left really are. And then we rounded the bend and down we went, Wendy reminding us to go slow and easy.</div>
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All I could think on the way down was holy fuck, this is steep. Fuck this is long. Maybe walking will help? Nope, not helping one bit. Ow, my knee! Damn this hurts. Ow, ow, ow! Fuck this hurts. Steep, steep, steep. I remember hearing two guys way back a few hours ago talk about how Field's and Inchanga would be classified as Category 4 hills if one were to use the cycling criteria and rank them. Not sure if that's true or not, but with a 6% average gradient and a length of 1.5 miles, it was brutal. By the time I reached the bottom, the back of my right knee was ON FIRE. Clearly, my ligaments back there did not enjoy having to help absorb the shock of running downhill.</div>
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Finally, the monster had been tamed. We turned left and gave our quads a chance to recover while walking up a small overpass. My knee wasn't any happier with walking, in fact probably less so. The road for a bit so up and down we went, walking and running, as more enormous crowds urged us on to Cowie's Hill, the last of the Big Five hills on the route. It's short, only half a mile long, but it climbs over 300 feet. The back of my knee did not enjoy the walk, and my right foot didn't either. I developed a huge blister on the outside of my big toe from altering my gait and stride to compensate for whatever I had done to my knee. To block out the pain, I started doing some more math in my head. Looking at my watch at the top of Cowie's, we had between 10 and 11 miles to go and had been on the road for slightly more than 8.5 hours. To finish in 11:30, I roughly calculated that we could get there with 16-minute miles. Hey, wait a minute, I thought. If we keep ahead of our previously discussed target of 15 min/mile, we could get there in 11:15.</div>
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We continued on our way, walking uphill, running downhill, and making good time. The miles were clicking off at a decent clip. 46 - 13:57, 47 - 10:42, 48 - 13:45. I mentioned to Holly that there's a chance we might get in under 11, but she didn't want to hear it. She was going through a tough patch and was worried about even finishing. I reached over, grabbed her hand, gave her a smile, and told her there was no way we weren't going to make it. She had this funny look on her face trying to figure out why I took her hand instead of patting her on the shoulder or back. I told her it was because her hand was probably the least sweaty and sticky body part she had left. Smiles all around.</div>
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My smile vanished a little while later when I felt like there was a huge rock rubbing against the back of my heel. I stopped briefly, tried pulling and moving my sock around, and got back up to speed again. Unfortunately, I didn't quite get the sand out and had to stop again. Wendy told me to take my shoe off and clear it up properly. I started to lean against the guardrail when I saw a young woman unfolding a camp chair so she could sit and watch the race. She graciously let me sit my sweaty self down for a minute while I simultaneously took my shoe off while trying not to let my legs stiffen up and cramp. I thanked her profusely and away we went.</div>
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This part of the course is a rolling downhill section. There are a few small ups, but for the most part we could run. It's also the part that goes through Westville, Wendy's hometown, and her friends and club supporters were out in full force. Everyone was yelling hello to her and asking about "her group." She had told them she was running Comrades with some friends in order to make sure they finished, and they were excited to see and wave at us too. Really, though, my mind was just focused on continual forward motion. Not Wendy, though. She was chatting with people, running across the road to say hi and take pictures, and even managed to set up lunch with one of her friends for Wednesday. Yes, while the rest of the field was doing all they could to get to the line, she's out there making lunch plans. She's a machine.</div>
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Leaving Westville, she told us we had 10 km left to go. Hmmm, my watch says 9:36. We've got 1:24 to run a 10k and finish in under 11 hours. I started upping the pace slightly and told Holly that I would decide at the Tollgate if I wanted to really try for sub-11. We hit the next mile in 11:41. Even with a very steep climb up what's know as 45th Cutting, the one after that was still 11:58. With a sharp left turn and a walk up a very steep ramp, we eased on to the highway for the final pull into Durban. A nice and gentle downhill brought us across the 82.28 km timing mat in 9:52. We had about an hour to run the last 7 kilometers, and that I knew we could do. We walked up the hill to Tollgate and began the last 5 km of the race.</div>
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Cresting the hill, I was struck by the huge mass of humanity on the road a few hundred meters in front of us. Holy shit, I exclaimed! It's the 11-hour bus!!! Somehow, our steady progress and mix of strong running with walking when needed had brought us to the back of the bus. Now we had a decision to make, either stick with them or go around them, but really, there wasn't much of a choice. It wouldn't be easy since they were stretched across the shoulder and all but one of the highway's four lanes, but there was no way I was going to sit behind them and finish in the middle of a pack. I charged off around them, pulling Wendy and Holly along with me. I think I got a little carried away because Holly had to slow me down more than a few times and we still ran mile 54 in 10:08.</div>
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<div style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">We ran and walked and ran and walked, getting ever closer to the stadium. There weren't any spectators on the highway, but we did run an overpass beneath which was a really interesting looking outdoor market. Turning left off the highway onto what was the only flat piece of road we'd seen all day, I was doing my best to stay composed. Not an easy thing to do when I'd been training and working for this for so long. Not only was I about to finish, I was about to finish well under 11 hours after giving up all thoughts of doing so five hours earlier. Before I knew it, we had passed the 1 km to go sign and were making the turn into the stadium. We did a little zig-zag through the gate, watched a guy get told to turn his hat around because it wasn't one from the race sponsors (this is why Holly put a Band-aid over the Nike logo on her hat), and entered the tunnel.</div>
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<div style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">Coming out of the tunnel into the stadium, we were hit with a deafening wall of sound. The stands were packed with people screaming and yelling, ringing bells and blowing horns, and willing the runners around the finishing loop to the line. When my feet hit the grass of the pitch, I broke out a huge smile, pumped my fists over and over again, and had my own celebration of conquering one of the hardest and most challenging races in the world. I waved to the crowd, pumped my arms some more, and made the last turn and could finally see the finish line. I threw my arm around Holly, she put hers around Wendy, and we crossed the line together 10 hours, 40 minutes, and 14 seconds after the gun had gone off in Pietermaritzburg. We did it!! Holy fuck we did it!!!! I was ecstatic and never more thrilled and excited to have finished a race.</div>
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<div style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">Then the tears came and I gave Holly a huge hug for being my friend, my running spouse, and crazy enough to do this race with me. The volunteers gave us our medals and patches, I sniffled a few more times, we took a picture, and we shuffled off to keep our legs moving and find the International tent. Comrades provides a huge tent and gathering area where international runners can relax, eat, drink, and meet up with their family and friends after the race. Sadly, by the time we managed to hobble over there, the water was gone and so was literally all but six cans of beer - Castle Light, so no great loss there. We found an empty patch of grass and collapsed onto the ground. All I wanted to do was get my shoes and socks off, a process that took at least five minutes. I untied one lace, started to loosen it, felt my feet and legs cramp up, and stopped to stretch them out. This went on over and over again until my swollen feet were finally free and my toes able to wiggle in the grass.</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhijmqBoOKxCccWgJk_pflXyJpvrKBf9ufOWbZE0rbZInESwUeqvFrQlepC7IoKMCCm76r4r_IJrbL0FL4vNEAS_ZFmUxgU1z3IDSDFPNFamRPQrLutnznR-NMhCVk-5bqdpsfqLRe7xT0/s1600/IMG_9611.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhijmqBoOKxCccWgJk_pflXyJpvrKBf9ufOWbZE0rbZInESwUeqvFrQlepC7IoKMCCm76r4r_IJrbL0FL4vNEAS_ZFmUxgU1z3IDSDFPNFamRPQrLutnznR-NMhCVk-5bqdpsfqLRe7xT0/s1600/IMG_9611.jpg" height="265" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The scene inside the International area.<br />
The finishing loop is just on the other side of the short metal fences.<br />
The video screen is showing the approach to the stadium, the entrance into the stadium from the tunnel, and the loop all the way around to the finish line</td></tr>
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<div style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">Now we needed our drop bag with our clean and dry clothes. One of the volunteers told us it would be at the general bag tent, which was somewhere on the other side of the pitch. As I limped off to find it, Holly stayed behind with Rupert. I ran into Vanessa at the exit of the International area. We had seen her on our way into the tent, and she was still there waiting for James to show up. He was supposed to finish an hour and a half before us, not a good sign. She did give me some very helpful information, though. She told me our bags were on the far side of the tent and not all the way on the other side of the stadium. That's what I had been led to believe originally, but I was too mentally drained to argue with the volunteer who gave me the erroneous information.</div>
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<div style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">With bag in hand, Holly and I could finally change out of our sweaty tops, put on flip flops, and, most importantly, dig out our phones and start taking pictures and letting the world know we had done it. James had arrived while I was picking up the bag, and his friend Greg took some great shots of us celebrating our accomplishment.</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">All hail the red sparkle skirts!</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Tiny medals, big smiles </td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Rupert, James, me, Holly</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Rupert rocking his back to back medal</td></tr>
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By now, the 11-hour mark had gone by and there was still no sign of Erin. I pulled out my phone to check on her progress, thankful that we'd all signed up to have our splits from the timing mats automatically posted on our Facebook page. I saw she crossed the 82.28 km mat in 11:10 with a projected finish time of 12:06. We all crossed our fingers and hoped she'd find the strength in her legs to cover those last 7 km in 50 minutes.</div>
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With each passing minute, the roar of the crowd grew louder and louder and louder. They wanted to see as many people finish the race as possible, and with something like 40% of the finishers crossing the line in the last 30-45 minutes, there was a steady stream of people receiving those cheers. The first of the 12-hours buses, hundreds of runners, passed by the tent at 11:45, and then another equally large one a few minutes later. The crowd was at a full-throated roar at this point, and I was too. I went to stand by the fence to watch for Erin, bang on the metal, and yell as loud as I could for everyone pushing to get across the line before the gun went off. It was quite interesting to see the different kinds of people finishing in the last 10 minutes. Some were members of the Green Number club signifying at least 10 Comrades finishes, and their experience showed. They were generally relaxed, calm, and not stressed over cutting it close. The first-timers, on the other hand, were clearly stressed and then finally relieved to have made it in time.</div>
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At 11:57, the video screen showed a runner collapse on the grass as he entered the stadium and two people behind him stopping to help him up and carry him along towards the finish. The crowd exploded in recognition of the potential sacrifice the two men were making in helping the fallen runner. From the point where your feet hit the grass to the finish line is several hundred meters and probably two minutes of running at the end of a 56-mile race when you're carrying another runner. That's the spirit of Comrades, as they say, and thankfully all three of them made it across the line in time.</div>
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10! 9! 8!! 7!! 6!!! 5!!! The countdown was ear-splitting as we willed all of the runners in the stadium to make that final left turn and cross the line. As heartwarming as watching those guy carry the injured man across the finish was, the firing of the gun was equally that heartbreaking. The official stood with his back to the line, and when the clock read 12:00:00, he pulled the trigger. The gun fired and the race marshals moved to block the line so no one else could cross. The last finisher was on the ground, having lunged and dived forward to just squeak across. The first non-finisher, who was less than three feet from the line when the gun sounded, was crushed. I felt really bad for the guy, not only because he didn't make it but also because the SABC TV crew was right there to interview him. Watching on the big video screen, he seemed to handle his fate and interview with much more grace than I think I would have.</div>
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12:06 came and went and still no sign of Erin. Finally, about 5 minutes later, we spotted a flash of green sparkles on the approach to the stadium. A few minutes passed by, and there she was, still smiling and doing what she set out to do: finish the damn race.</div>
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I'll have more pictures coming soon once the official photographer is finished tagging them all, but in the meantime, <a href="http://www.mysports.tv/events/CO14/redirect.asp?r=11620" target="_blank">here's a link to my race video</a>. You can see a great shot of us crossing the line if you choose the "Finish - Total right (until 16:40)" option.<br />
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My Comrades Summary post, coming soon, will have all the stats I can think of about my training, my race day plan for fueling and hydration, and whatever else comes to mind. My Garmin profile of the race will be there too, but <a href="http://tpks.ws/R2AO" target="_blank">here it is now</a> for those who have asked for it.</div>
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Johnhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00180345730200342103noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5358721804853628200.post-91714039643666101942014-06-13T15:57:00.000+03:002014-06-13T15:57:30.165+03:00Comrades Marathon, Part 1<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">I slept in Friday morning as long as I could before getting up to go for a short run on the Durban Corniche with Holly, Erin, and James. What a strange and pleasant feeling to be running outside in the sunshine at 830 in the morning without melting into a pool of sweat. We did a short out and back to the World Cup stadium (a gorgeous building) and saw lots of other Comrades runners along the way, including the Russian twins who have won the women's race the past 11 years. Long and lean they are not, which just goes to show that you don't need a so-called perfect floating stride to be the best of the best elite runners.</span><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Wendy, Erin, Holly, James, and me<br />
Durban beachfront after breakfast on Friday</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">After a delicious breakfast on the beachfront at Circus Circus and a quick change of clothes, we were off to the expo to pick up our bibs and do some shopping. I felt I was tempting fate by buying Comrades gear before finishing the race, but I really didn't have much choice. I wasn't coming all the way down to South Africa for a race of this magnitude and going home empty handed. The selection of shirts was pretty good, but there weren't many jackets to choose from. I found an understated grey hooded one, a much nicer option than the satiny-looking one with COMRADES in large block letters across the shoulders that Erin felt would have been more at home on a boxer. Handy tip for anyone planning to enter Comrades in the future: do whatever you can to register as an International runner. The entry fee is higher, but the perks are more than worth it. We had our own registration area with maybe a 10-minute line whereas the South African runners had to wait upwards of two hours in order to pick up their bibs. That's a long time to stand in line two days before an 89 km run.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">While at the expo, we met up with some of the other Doha runners including Scott, Keith, and Wendy. We sat down with Wendy for a bit to discuss the game plan for Sunday morning. A veteran of 11 previous Comrades, she graciously offered to forego her own race and run with us to help us with strategy, pacing, course highlights, and whatever else she could do to get us across the finish line. Running a race this far is pretty daunting in the base case. Throw in the extreme hills and the added pressure of the strict 12-hour time limit, and things get downright scary. Knowing we'd have Wendy with us on race day helped keep me calm.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">We stopped at a grocery store on the way back to the hotel from the expo to pick up some water and Powerade to get us through until the race. Seeing a liquor store in the same building, Holly and I thought we should grab a bottle of champagne and some beer to stock the fridge and have waiting for us after the race. With the most expensive bottle of bubbly being all of $4 and the best beer Carling Black Label, we hightailed it out of there. Post-race beverages would have to be found elsewhere.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">The rest of the afternoon was spent wandering along the beach to find lunch, watching a kids surfing contest, lounging around the hotel room watching the Giro d'Italia, digging through the goody bags to see if anything worthwhile was in there, and beginning to put our race gear together. Comrades doesn't provide you with an official drop bag, you're free to use pretty much anything you want. We didn't know this until the expo, so I bought a nice Comrades duffel bag to use as a drop bag. Me and thousands of other people, I bet. The bag was plenty big enough for Holly and I to share for our race gear and the clothes and things we'd need Saturday night at the hotel in PMB.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">Dinner Friday night was at an Italian restaurant in north Durban near where James' sister-in-law Vanessa, her husband Simon, and their daughters live. We feasted on bruschetta, calamari, prosciutto, and huge plates of fresh pasta with cold beer (me and Erin) and red wine (everyone else) to wash it all down. We talked about the race a lot, of course, but none of us three novices were really that nervous. At this point, our training was done and there was nothing we could do about our fitness, the weather, or anything else related to the race. Rather than stress over every little detail, it seemed a better choice to have a beer, make some new friends, and relax, so I did.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;"><b><u>Saturday</u></b><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">I woke up to perhaps my favorite workout that Mary gives me: rest and eat lots of pancakes. That's always a much more enjoyable task than running four hours in the heat and humidity of Doha, so back to Circus Circus we went. Erin arrived first and thankfully found a table because the place was packed with runners loading up just like us. After polishing off colossal stacks of pancakes with extra sides of bacon and sausage, the three of us went back to the hotel to relax, pack, and kill time until James came to pick us up for the drive up to PMB. I started in on my pre-race fueling strategy of alternating bottles of water with a bottle of Powerade and taking a high-test version of Imodium every 6 hours until the start of the race. I wasn't having any GI issues but felt that the pills were worth using in hopes of not having to make any stops during the race. The last thing I wanted to do was slow down Holly, Erin, and Wendy by having to hit the porta-potty multiple times along the way. With only 12 hours to get across the line, every minute and every second are precious.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">James and Vanessa stopped by to get us around 315, and after rounding up Erin and Scott at their hotels, we were on our way. As the car pulled onto the highway, James and Scott began giving us a reverse tour of the route, pointing out the toll bridge at 5 km to go, the short & steep ramp to get onto the highway before the bridge, and some of the other key parts of the course close in to Durban. He asked Vanessa to stay on the highway a while longer so we could see what Field's Hill looked like. It's one of the five named hills on the route and it's a doozy, climbing 213 meters in 3 kilometers (roughly 700 feet in 1.8 miles). We'd be running down this, James reminded us, and we needed to make sure we go very slowly and carefully to avoid blowing out our quads for the last 25 km. Cresting the hill, the car got very quiet. Erin, Holly, and I sat in silence trying to comprehend descending that hill 65 km into the race, along with climbing all the ones we could now see stretched out before us towards Pietermaritzburg just to get to that point.<o:p></o:p></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">James had mercy on us and decided not to show us any of the other major climbs. Those we'd get to experience for ourselves the next morning. Instead, he drove us down <a href="http://news.comrades.com/articles/352-nedbank-green-mile-the-official-spectator-point-on-the-2014-comrades-marathon" target="_blank">the Green Mile</a> where Nedbank, one of the major Comrades sponsors, sets up a huge spectator and cheering zone for well over a mile of the route. During the race, the Green Mile comes with roughly 26 km left to go and is a kilometer or two before the top of Field's Hill. He told us we'd hear it before we saw it and to be on the lookout for the women in the swings hanging from the trees. I wasn't really paying much attention at this point. I was too shell-shocked by all the ups and downs of the road as we made our way to the hotel. The scenery was truly gorgeous and reminded me a lot of California – green trees, acres of fields of brown and green grass an crops, and hills without end. The longest hill I found to run on in Doha, maybe a few hundred meters long at best, paled in comparison to the ones we now found ourselves driving over. As calm as I had been up to this point, I now had a pit in my stomach and for the first time really wondered what I had gotten myself into.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">Checking into the hotel was quite the adventure. Getting our room was easy, but the staff had a very hard time trying to sort out the shuttle to the race in the morning. Holly had already been in contact with a shuttle company, and no one really knew if that was the same company, what time departure was, or how to pay for the trip. We heard everything from a free shuttle leaving at 330am to having to call and reserve a taxi. In the end, we just decided to be in the lobby at 330, assuming that one way or another, the company that Holly made our reservations with would be there.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">Once in the room, Holly and I set about organizing things for the race rather than wait until after dinner. Not that I'd be able to sleep much or well, but I wanted to be able to lie down and relax as best I could. The list of stuff I had for the race sounds like a lot, and it was, but I think I made good use of all of it at one point or another: running shoes, socks, compression shorts, shirt, red sparkle skirt, Garmin, hat, sunglasses, Band-aids, Bodyglide, chip, bib, salt tabs, gels/bloks/beans, SPI belt, long-sleeve running top for the first few hours, Qatar Airways PJs to keep warm before the start. My belt strained to hold everything, but I wanted to make sure I had enough on hand to keep up with my fueling plan – one salt tab per hour, one Clif shot or three Clif bloks or one pack of sport beans per hour. Not that I ever could or would eat that much sugar along the way. I planned on switching to salted potatoes once I found them being offered, but it was mentally comforting to know I had the gels if I or anyone else really needed them.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">Dinner Saturday night was another super-Imodium and a pretty decent buffet in the hotel's restaurant. I ate as simply as possible – potatoes, pasta with garlic, and a slice of warm bread and butter – and left before I felt full. The last thing I wanted was to wake up Sunday morning feeling heavy from a solid rock of pasta still in my stomach. Back upstairs, I downed a salt tab and was in bed with the lights off by 8pm. That 245am alarm was going to come very early.</span></div>
Johnhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00180345730200342103noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5358721804853628200.post-91007704761486987882014-02-02T09:45:00.001+03:002014-02-02T09:45:11.164+03:00One More Easy WeekOnly one more easy week of training left. After getting through <a href="http://www.wadibih.com/" target="_blank">Wadi Bih</a> on Friday, the training for <a href="http://www.comrades.com/" target="_blank">Comrades</a> begins in earnest. When Heather and I ran <a href="http://www.tejastrails.com/Rocky50.html" target="_blank">Rocky</a> many years ago, it was sort of a last minute decision made after getting confirmation we'd be moving to Russia. Because of that, the training wasn't all that long. We ran the Richmond marathon in November (her second, my first), did a half in Charlotte in early December, and then jumped into getting ready for a 50-mile ultra-marathon in less than two months. We had probably four weeks of the killer back-to-back runs (2-3 hours one day, 4-5 hours the next) before starting to taper down for Rocky. Training for Comrades won't be quite so short and sweet. I'm not sure what plan and approach Mary and I are going to settle on, but whatever it is, it'll probably look something like this:<div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAJYhKfLMv_8BJaBAiqcpZP5APYWdehQA5Jh4C_TNo7Q4IknGXlzVBAippEQ_Julc2clg2-DXnjOGA-uAkMg1MONVi1fy6OG9IzKtTNmcsZASQlRUKc-WbKVuS34dvcrtL0hsi9DLVANQa/s1600/hal+higdon+ultra+training+schedule.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAJYhKfLMv_8BJaBAiqcpZP5APYWdehQA5Jh4C_TNo7Q4IknGXlzVBAippEQ_Julc2clg2-DXnjOGA-uAkMg1MONVi1fy6OG9IzKtTNmcsZASQlRUKc-WbKVuS34dvcrtL0hsi9DLVANQa/s1600/hal+higdon+ultra+training+schedule.jpg" height="640" width="465" /></a></div>
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Add in the hill work (for the 4700' of climbing) and the strength training in the gym (for the 6600' of quad-busting descending), and it's going to be a busy four months. At least there's our anniversary trip to the Maldives to give me a breather at the end of March.</div>
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Johnhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00180345730200342103noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5358721804853628200.post-87870687470749481592014-01-02T12:02:00.001+03:002014-01-02T12:02:23.618+03:00Safari Day<p> Yesterday was our safari day. We spent the afternoon in one of Sri Lanka's national parks hanging out with the elephants. We saw three herds ranging in size from 10 to 70 members. Our guide told us it's not uncommon to see only a few or even none at all, so we got pretty lucky. Here's a few pictures from my iPhone. Ones from the real camera will be posted once we get home.</p>
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-6GcN_Zf8WvA/UsUqwNgJgtI/AAAAAAAABbI/vROEmLVU6b4/s2048/Photo%252520Jan%2525201%25252C%2525202014%25252C%2525203%25253A55%252520PM.jpg" target="_blank" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-6GcN_Zf8WvA/UsUqwNgJgtI/AAAAAAAABbI/vROEmLVU6b4/s500/Photo%252520Jan%2525201%25252C%2525202014%25252C%2525203%25253A55%252520PM.jpg" id="blogsy-1388653254864.5913" class="aligncenter" alt="" width="500" height="375"></a></div>
<p> </p><div style="text-align: right; font-size: small; clear: both;" id="blogsy_footer"><a href="http://blogsyapp.com" target="_blank"><img src="http://blogsyapp.com/images/blogsy_footer_icon.png" alt="Posted with Blogsy" style="vertical-align: middle; margin-right: 5px;" width="20" height="20" />Posted with Blogsy</a></div>Johnhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00180345730200342103noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5358721804853628200.post-86456917047202176332013-11-16T11:11:00.001+03:002013-11-16T11:13:49.193+03:00Abu Dhabi Half Race ReportI flew over to Dubai last weekend to visit Holly and run a half marathon in Abu Dhabi. I wasn't really expecting great things from the race because I've been pretty lax in my training over the past few months. Still, I figured it would be a good gauge of where I am in terms of fitness and a good kick-in-the-pants to get me training harder for the Dubai full in January. I brought Ellie, our DBRC mascot, along in hopes she'd bring me luck. As you can see, she's not a good influence. She clearly does know how to make the most of the Doha airport lounge, though.<br />
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The weather for the race was quite nice for this time of year, with temps in the high 70s, no humidity, and a slight breeze some of the time. <a href="http://trimoxiecoaching.com/mary-bio.html" target="_blank">Mary</a> wanted me to start out at an 8:40 pace and hold it as long as I could. Holly said that was fine with her but not to expect her to keep that up the whole way. I didn't think I'd maintain that pace for the entire race either, so we kind of expected one of us to fall of the rails around mile 9 or 10.<br />
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The course was a nice tour around Yas Island and all the major attractions it has to offer. We ran up to the entrances of many of the hotels, did a nice out-and-back along the marina, cruised past the F1 track and <a href="http://www.ferrariworldabudhabi.com/" target="_blank">Ferrari World</a>, and then looped around back to the start/finish at Waterworld. A much better course than the Qtel one in Doha (4 laps of the Corniche) or Dubai Creek Striders (multiple bridge climbs, running on pavement, dirt, grass, and cobblestones).<br />
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We set off from the start in the middle of a crowd, and after reaching the main road, the course opened up and we were able to settle into a nice rhythm and pace.<br />
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Mile 1 - 8:46<br />
Mile 2 - 8:36<br />
Mile 3 - a slight ramp up to the entrance of the Crown Plaza hotel, where the employees were kindly handing out bottles of water. 8:39<br />
Mile 4 - nice run along the water and the marina. I was surprised not to see any timing mats in places where it would've been easy to skip portions of the course. Holly told me I'd been living in Doha too long and that they trust runners over there. 8:39<br />
Mile 5 - 8:41<br />
Mile 6 - not a big fan of the climb up to the marina hotel, as small as it was. I definitely need lots and lots of hill work before Comrades. 8:38<br />
Mile 7 - this is where the pace started to get hard. I could feel my legs starting to ache and found I had to focus more on keeping the pace up and not as much on talking and looking around at the scenery. 8:39<br />
Mile 8 - a dull stretch of road outside Ferrari World. Not much talking going on. A few minutes of a lapse in concentration led to a slow mile. 8:47<br />
Mile 9 - this is where I thought I was going to bonk. I was starting to get hot, the water stops seemed farther apart, and I could see a big bridge up ahead that I just knew we'd have to climb to get back to where we started. 8:47<br />
Mile 10 - this is where I knew I was going to make it. I kept telling myself there was only 3 miles and 25 minutes left to go. I felt like speeding up slightly, but I wasn't sure if Holly would be able to keep up, so I just kept steady. As it turns out, she felt she could go faster too, but wasn't sure how I was feeling. Note to self: we need to talk more during Dubai. This is also where we noticed that the course markers seemed to be a bit short of where they should be. The 16km sign came well before we had 3 miles left to go. 8:41<br />
Mile 11 - a nice shady run along the empty lot behind Ferrari World. 8:40<br />
Mile 12 - we could hear the finish line as we got closer to Waterworld. The 10k runners merged into the road with us at this point. Nothing like having to dodge people walking three or four abreast as you're trying to conserve what little energy you have left. 8:40<br />
Mile 13 - not quite a mile, actually, more like 0.9. The course was definitely short. We crossed the line, picked up our medals and towels, and walked around in the shade to cool down before heading into the park for breakfast.<br />
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I ran a 1:51, which was much better than I expected given my training or lack thereof. Now it's time to drop a few pounds, make all my workouts, and get through Dubai with a sub-4 qualifying time for Comrades.Johnhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00180345730200342103noreply@blogger.com0