Cake

It appears as if I will need to pull off the rare negative split. As much as I would like to think I can make it another 60 years, odds are, I won't. Meaning that the decline is mandated to immediately go into effect. 50 more? Doubt it. 40? That would be interesting. Realistically, I have 20.92 according to the Social Security Department whose job it is to keep records of this type of thing and whose greatest bureaucratic hope that most of the people die before they can collect. What a scam!!!!! But back to the split. And its criteria.

To negative split one's life, much the same way the we NS a race, means to perform in the second had better than we did the first. And since I have already encountered the ravaging effects of age induced speed loss, there has to be another way to measure. And there is.

Quality. Good 'ol Quality of Life. Difficult to measure, granted, but real non-the-less in a few (semi)objective areas. Key among them:

Health

Fitness

Purpose

Happiness

Meaningful work

Friendship

Community

Growth

Challenge

Service

Kindness

Calm

I truly feel that if I can find the ways and means to keep putting one foot in front of the other along this long, strange path, everything will be OK. 

As I was driving home this morning, wondering again about some silly financial obligation and its connection to my SPS (Spiritual Position System) I had to laugh as I weighed my current income against the situation known as 'doing what you love'. 

Seems love is expensive these days. Back in 1952, and well into the 60s it was free. Now I gotta pay an inflated rate for it. 

I think the negative split has a lot to do with dealing successfully with this paradox. Not getting crushed under its immense weight. Not giving up, getting overwhelmed or going bitter or ballistic. Seems folks from all over are cracking under the hypocritical oppression of neo-political power, greed and corruption gone mainstream. It is now OK to deceive, manipulate and broker dividends at the expense of the proletariat. 

There are fences to mend. Work left to be done. Gross insensitivities to assuage, atrocities to amend. Love to spread. I will start at home, fix my fence first. I will be the change I would like to see. It starts here. Where it ends I can only hope and pray that it is somehow, someway better. 

A negative split positive. 

With vanilla please.

Touchdown Huskies

It is almost time. Game time. The 2012 College Football season kicks-off Saturday night at 1935 at Century Link field. I wish I could say Husky Stadium, but because of renovation construction we are borrowing the Seahawks house for our home games this year. If there are any WSU alums among the VBA you are probably wondering about tonight's contest between two Cougars, Wazzu and BYU. So am I.  It might be interesting. I hope the new coaching staff will instill a sense of swashbuckle that has long been missing from the Pirates of Pullman. The better the Cougs, the better the chance they might plunder and pillage one of the teams the Huskies need to top in the PAC12 North. So here is the first time in man-years I have said this: GO COUGS!

I might watch a few plays after the completion of the current video project, but there is only one team that I follow with unblinking devotion and one dimensional bias, as I have been doing since 1978. There have been some good times, some great games and some unforgettable moments along that stretch of Saturdays. From Joe Steele to Chris Polk, Warren Moon to Teeth Price, Dave Hoffman to Johnny Timu and The Dogfather to Sark, my heroes have always been Huskies. 

There is nothing like the energy and passion generated at College Football Game Days. Nothing. I enjoy watching the kids develop. I like the drama. I like the high probability that some of these kids will make alarming errors of omission and that and equal number will create highlights clips of artistic, graceful explosive power. It is war. The object is simple. There are lines drawn. There are colors. You have teammates, specialists and intel. You have an individual assignment within a larger team goal. Every skill you have ever been taught, been given at birth via DNA or learned in a playbook or on film, needs to be put into play, in real time, with fatigue and sometimes injury, in front of 60,000 people live and another million or so watching on TV. 

My favorite colors are purple and gold. We fight for that inch. Saturday we start a new era in the 100 plus year history of University of Washington football. I will be watching closely. The nuance in the trenches, the pro style offense, the tandem of slick tailbacks, the D-line play, the backers and the new talent in the secondary. I'll watch Tru & Tre lock the corners, Jessie and Bishop slip to the sidelines, Josh and Danny play a little smashmouth all as Sark negotiates the momentum, game clock and emotion. I can hear Bob Rondeau now:

TOUCHDOWN HUSKIES.

Salt

Open wound, pour salt. Ouch.

The results are final. Our illustrious age group ended the day with two Kona slots, this first going to Murray Macpherson of Calgary, the overall winner, and deserving of the honor as a result of his stunning 10:47, and second place finisher Mark Strong, from Irvine, CA., who clocked an equally terrific 11:32. And while not up to the intricate and detailed statistical recap ala Runtri.com, a quick analysis shows their finishing differential to be a whopping 45 minutes. Give or take, plus or minus. You will remember that my predicted estimated time was 10:50.

Meaning, in that pathetically ironic and comical way that now seems to be the norm, that I could have gone 40 minutes slower than my target and qualified. But nooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo.

As I wrap the wound and prepare to regroup and attempt a redirect assault on the target (compete in Kona, KQ, do the big dance, race at the World Championships), it seems that there are two important lessons here. I will share them with you. 

One. When we talk about the journey being a road, a process, we never really know what will take place along it. Nor do we know how long it will take, or the tax upon our abilities, resources and stamina. As often as I cite the need to enjoy the ride, to make the road the goal and to keep in the present moment, sometimes, the odds, circumstances or challenges are can overwhelm. 

Two: The only way that we really lose is to quit. To toss the towel, to admit to the insurmountable of the task and take the easy, downhill path back home. There we can sit and watch on the big screen others doing what we refused to try. 

I would rather have two tons of sodium dumped into my open veins. 

Once again, my sincere congratulations on fine performances to locals, Bob and Kerry, and to the two gentlemen whom I hope to meet in Kona in six weeks, representing our illustrious group Murray and Mark. 

They will be racing. And I will work. Pass the salt. 

Mayo with that?

Article from the Mayo Clinic on the bennies of exercise. Followed immediately my my pithy and trite comments. 

1) But not as much as a great diet strategy

2) But not as much as an impeccable stress management strategy

3) But not as much as meditation, love or red wine

4) Way more then Red Bull

5) Way more than The Tonight Show

6) WHATEVER WORKS

7) Totally

BOTTOM LINE: I understand what the Mayo saying. There is, as with most things, another layer, one more level, that we, we defined as 'those who get it' already consider to be the eleventh commandment. There is detail above and beyond simply listing a few, in this case seven, reasons why exercise, here defined as 30 minutes per day of physical activity, is, well, good for you. 

We know better. 

And manifest this knowledge as the wisdom of the word. Let's take it one step further up the staircase, shall we?

1) Exercise controls weight when used in correct and proper combination with your diet. The guy who walks 30 minutes a day, calls it a workout and wolfs a double cheese pizza for lunch, is controlling his weight while asleep at the wheel. Cruise control for disaster. 

2) I have known people who exercise to exhaustion every day, then drink and smoke to calm nerves from off-the-charts high-stress positions. Fartleks and anti-depressants will not help your heart stay healthy. 

3) Happy chemicals rock!!! I am an admitted endorphin junkie. But there is a balance necessary to stay in the zone. Deep breathing, social interaction and Spanish wine help too.

4) Yes it does. One paradox after another. The more you use the more you make available. The more you spend the more you have. Oh, and please, don't drink that nasty Swiss bull swill. Water, mates, water. 

5) Nothing gets me into REM faster than reading, quiet introspective breath counting (zazen) and a thankful sense of accomplishment. That might be a long ride, a snappy 10K, yoga, doing something I would rather not or a goodnight kiss. 

6) When I need to put the spark back into my sex life it usually means finding a partner. I suppose it helps to be healthy, fit and ready, so OK, thanks Mayo.

7) Duh. This is the epitome of the second level. We believe that exercise is fun. And that means spinning, riding, 2x20s, Hurricane Ridge, recovery 5Ks in the park, time trial racing, triathlon, marathon and everything in-between. 

Except perhaps swimming. I would rather spend time looking for a partner. 

Have a great day. 

Pic: In our travels with Little Miss Mirthy, sometimes we break the exercise/diet adage. Espresso and a blackberry tart after 50 miles is OK, however. 

Credit where do

Now that THAT is out of the way. We can move forward. Learning from the mistakes, letting go, taking the lessons, and…..

Getting on with it, doing what must be done.

The THAT in question, was, as you know, and by now probably are sick of hearing about, the 30th and last Ironman Canada. It was yesterday. But before we officially turn the digital page and sprint towards our next target, let's give some credit where due. 

Even though I took a dreaded DNS, I have enough fond memories of this event to last my next three lifetimes. For these I sincerely thank the people of Penticton for their support and hospitality and RD Graham Fraser, compere extraordinaire Steve King and all the staffers who contributed to the three decades of staging this unique event. Sure, it appeasers to be merely undergoing a change of management, but those memories, that experience will always, to me, carry the emotional IMC brand. 

At dawn yesterday I began the on-line tracking of a few folks. For their endurance efforts I applaud Bob who went 13:37, Kerry @ 14:06, Sister Buder who clocked a 16:33 at 81 years of age, and Murray Macpherson, who won our age group with terrific 10:47. My goal was 10:50, the second place finisher yesterday came in at 11:29, so make of that what your will. I have yet to see the Kona roll-down chart to see who or how many Q'd, but I will later and report the 'salt in the wound' data.

I was asked this morning if another IM is in the works for this year (only Arizona and Florida remain). I said I am not sure. I think maybe Couer d' Alene next June might get the nod. Not quite sure as yet. It will get some attention from the planning department. 

There were some other oddities at the top of yesterdays results. Three of the top 10 Men were age groupers, as was the overall female. Kendra Lee of Colorado beat the top Pro Female by two minutes, an amazing story. 

The ink is dry on thirty years of history and the book closes. Placed on the shelf, ready for reference when necessary. In the dusty, dark walnut  library of my mind, this volume rests as a classic. 

Which is not to say that it will be the last. 

Pix: Sunset on Sunset Ave Friday night. The pizza oven with Trixie Saturday night and a few shots of our ride around Blake Island yesterday. A fun weekend, even if it was at home. 

The Road Tomorrow

7: Sloop John B 

6: Peace, Love & Understanding 

5: Superstar 

4: One More Saturday 

3: Hey Tonight 

2: You Ain't Seen Nothing 

1: China Grove 

Answers to this mornings Seven Song Standing Climb Quick Recall of Specific

Fact  (SSSCQRSF) contest, won my Willow, who as a result of her brilliant non-random access memory and outstanding climbing acumen, wins one of the last remaining CompuTrainer/BAC club jerseys. Way to go WIll-O!!

I cannot begin to tell you how bittersweet is this gorgeous last Saturday in August. But I must try. Tomorrow is Ironman Canada and I will have to deal with the most dreaded of racing acronyms, the DNS. DNF's, Did Not Finish, are light years better than not having started at all, at least you got there and tried. But to lay your hard earned dough down, train with a focus for an entire year, make arrangements, take a logistical dress rehearsal of the bike course and boldly predict an age group win, to sadly end up sitting here typing on the eve of the 30th anniversary of this sensational event, leaves me a touch, well, disappointed. 

It is my fault. I fully pass the blame from me to I. The responsibility for this weird and stupid scenario I assume. I created it. As innocent as it was, as silly as it became and as pathetic as it will seem in five years, today it hurts like hell. I should be in Penticton with a thousand butterflies in my stomach, resting, trying to relax, with all gear checked and nothing better to do than go to bed early and await the 0330 alarm. 

Instead I prepare to head back to the pizza oven after a 90 minute spin. 

We talked some this morning about the road being the goal. About the "destination", and "the goal" being illusions, and about the practice of keeping in the present moment, relaxed and focused. About potholes, mountains, detours, flat tires and inattentive drivers having the potential to offer us the gift of growth. Challenge and its eventual hard earned wisdom is what is really important, that we learn vigilance, that we keep moving forward, that we give the best that we have to offer at all times, under all circumstances and in every race or ride. 

The taste of my own medicine is tasting bittersweet today. But down she goes. Salute!

Pix: The Pizza Oven project gets more attention today. Last night's meal, (not looking quite as good as it tasted) Tofu squares baked in Green Curry soup and ladled upon sauteed onions and garlic with fresh, local snow peas lightly heated in grape seed oil with basil and rosemary. 

Congrats to Willow, thanks to Rob for the food suggestion, go get 'em Bob, Kerry and all the old bastards in my age group. Enjoy the ride. 

This road may not take me to Penticton tomorrow, but one day it will. Cheers! 

Yesterday

But fair play is also a philosophy - one of respect for others, and respect for the institution of sport. It leads to an agreement, between all of those involved in sport, on the values and lessons that we want sport to teach our children and ourselves.

Yesterday. All my troubles seemed so far away. 

Yesterday, one might say that the shat hit the fan. (The excrement made physical contact with a hydro-electric powered oscillating air current distribution device and used primarily to describe a set of circumstances where events became inflamed to a point that control was lost.) 

As busy as my yesterday was, two rather startling incidents surfaced in the news. Both grabbing headlines in the myopic media circles in which I spin. You, without question, heard of them as well. On the RCVman scale of importance (measuring vibrational shockwave intensity from blog zero as positiver-negative) they were:

1) Lance says no mas, and

2) Ironman Canada is no mas

NOW I NEED A PLACE TO HIDE AWAY.

Because this is a editorial soap-box, not merely a 'lazy fair' social media chance to cut and paste other peoples opinion and ask for validation, link and like, and because I think there is room for commentary among all the shallow 'fair and balanced' reporting of current events, I humbly submit my abridged thoughts on the subjects du jour. 

Lance. THERE'S A SHADOW HANGING OVER ME. 

I will take a stab at it: 80%. That is the percent of pro cyclists, better, pro cyclists riding in any TdF, in any given year, doping. I have no evidence to validate this number, it is a wild estimate. I have no proof. I have caught no one on camera with needles in their arms. It is all, 100%, total hearsay. He said that she said that so-and-so may have cheated. OMG, stop the presses and call the cops. This malicious innuendo is exactly what Lance has endured since 1999. Despite all his glory, fame, championships, altruism and generosity, this dark shadow hung over his head and foundation like an umbrella. I would plead 'no more' as well. Walk away. Fine, you win. It makes no difference to me. As LA cites in his official response "I know who won those seven tours, the other riders know, and you know". Here is another poignant example of why I have issues with authority. I will continue to know who won, and choose to believe he won because of his superior work ethic and God given genetics, his courage and his competitive concentration. His skill and his personal power. If he was in the 80% group or the 20% group is not the story I opt to follow. The guy is 40 years old and wants to win Ironman. He won the most important cycling race on the planet seven times. He beat cancer and has provided millions of dollars for further research. Did he dope along the way? I guess it depends on who you ask. Americans like their heros on a pedestal almost as much as they like knocking them off. In my book, and by my rating scale, Lance tests positive. 

IMC: I BELIEVE IN YESTERDAY.

Thirty years and out. My all-time favorite event is 48 hours away from extinction. Politics (and its evil twin, greed) have won another one. After Sunday's 30th running, WTC, Ironman, Ironman Canada, will relinquish its license to the Challenge group, headquartered in Europe. The event will continue under, as they say, new management. I don't know what really happened between the mayor of Penticton, long-time RD Graham Fraser, Felix Walchshöfer, of the Challenge Group and WTC, but is sure seems to reek of political pork and the policy of profit. Meaning, of course, that it saddens me. For a number of reasons. One, I will miss the last running of my favorite event due, in part to similar politics and my overt disdain for hypocritical, hallow authority, and two, because I find it distasteful that money, profit and power have become such demigods in our society. The culture of Ironman used to be of sport, challenge, camaraderie and support. All this was epitomized by the people of Penticton and the long course participants in their annual celebration of the human spirit and soul. Now event production simply goes to the highest bidder. I believe in yesterday's joy, in the value of competition. As an athlete, as a manufacturer's representative, as journalist, as a volunteer, I have been fortunate to have participated in fifteen of the thirty events known, now retrospectively,  as Ironman Canada. Each has been special. I believe in yesterday, and hope Felix will carry the torch onward and upward.

That's enough commentary for today. A long run and more pizza oven work on tap. Some nice irons that have been heating in the fire look to be, at last, ready to hammer to shape. Details as they happen.

Have a great weekend. Hang in there. Go hard. 

Tell U Ride

 Some VERY interesting data from Training Peaks on the fist stage of the Pro Challenge, won of course, by Wenatchee's own Tyler Farrar. The first stage was a grueling 125.6 miles and almost 10,000 feet of gain from Durango to Telluride. What I find interesting is in the analysis of Tyler's ride into Telluride, or to tell you of the ride, so to speak. 

Seems the young ace from Garmin-Sharp not only did the deed at critical speed, in a snappy 4:42, he spent almost an hour COASTING DOWNHILL!!!

Try THAT on your CompuTrainer! So we have from Tyler the classic example of the work-rest interval at play. Another example is from Tejay van Garderen, another Washingtonian, and an equally savvy racer. He knows when to conserve and regroup and when to recherché. We also see evidence of his overall power as noted in his attack on Lizzard Head Pass at 327w controlled and steady watts. This is good stuff with which to make some comparisons. 

Yes, between the top Pro's and what we do on a daily basis to mirror their efforts in the humble House of Mirth. 

The secret being, if there is such a thing as a secret in the cycling world, that critical power, functional power and power to weight ratio are crucial to success at any altitude. Please also notice that Lucas Euser weighs in at 128 pounds yet managed to generate 912 peak watts with a 207 average at 25.8mph over his five hour ride. Wow.  

That is a lot of data. A ton of information but also a simple and sure way for us to toss in the towel and surrender. Before you give up because these numbers indicate the chasm of difference between you, me and them, please factor in a few variables. Such as your:

Age

Profession

Filial responsibilities

Available training hours

Current fitness

Dispossable income to spend on sport

Number of years on the Pro circuit.

Plug this number into the equation and see what you get. 

You get an 'atta boy" or an "atta girl" from me. 

If you are going to compare, beware. 

Because some of you have inquired, shown are last night's post workout dinner (and dessert): Curried basmati rice with sweet potato and sunflower seeds, and Sharlyn melon, peaches and strawberries with Sicilian Lemon and Blood Orange gelato. Good and good for ya! 

44 words to fatigue

"The ability to maintain a high power output during prolonged cycling is limited by the ability of the cyclist to resist fatigue. What precisely causes this fatigue, however, is controversial. Indeed, understanding fatigue during prolonged endurance exercise has been a major research agenda of exercise scientists for at least the last 50 years. However, despite numerous theories and models, no precise explanation exists."

I will go WAY out on a limb and scream a suggestion that the way to resist fatigue is to fatigue more. 

The quoted article, from Harvard no less, is very thorough, bordering on a potent, yet legal, sleep inducer with few side effects. If you have ever wondered where I dig up some (not all) of the crazy workout protocols that are basically designed to test and train your motor to resist fatigue one iota longer, read some of the Harvard paper just before bedtime.

What I would say to a Ironman Canada virgin (as advice) in less than 44 words:  

Relax

Enjoy

Start the swim on the port side and tardy

Take the bike easy until the top of Yellow Lake, then hammer back to town

Commit to a negative split on the run

Your race starts at the run turnaround

Relax 
Enjoy

LIke Air & Water

I am glad today that I need to stay busy. For two primary reasons:

1) Left to my thoughts I would stew in a sea of sorrow,

2) There is lots to do. 

Like the air and water we discussed in class this morning, they are the basics, the foundation from which we build. We breathe, relax, re-construct in a balanced growth zone. A mode of movement. Not rushed, or hurried, more like perpetual power released as required. Played out over time. Maybe one day, maybe one event, one ride, one race. 

Maybe one life. 

Regardless of my personal melodrama, life will go on. It becomes my challenge to sustain a focus on what I can control, namely, me. My air and my water. My awareness, my thoughts. That mixture will eventually manifest as my actions, and much like an athlete looking for personal records, the clearer I think, the more oxygen I can successfully integrate with my movement, the cleaner and purer my intake of water, the greater my chances are of success. If I can somehow add a few of the other components we so diligently practice, speed, power, grace, balance, endurance and gratitude, this day will pass as successful. As will the next. 

I also suspect that one day in the not too distant future I will be out there on some long course, perhaps under a bright sun and surrounded by others all wanting what I want, and look back on this day, happy that I was able to cope. To rise to the occasion and keep the faith and focus. To let love win. 

Not let something silly slow me down or cause a scurried sprint to addictive behavior. 

Stay focused. Keep moving. Do your best. Clean your heart and sweep your soul. Stay in the present moment, do not allow the mistakes of the past to affect your ability to use this present as a gift. 

There is your future. 

Breath the air. Relax. Drink the water. Refresh. Let go. 

Then get after it. No matter the temporary pain, grasshopper, this is part of that. 

Footnote: The following quote was sent to me Saturday by a great friend, who would not be surprised in the least as to its ironic timeliness. 

"Nothing in this world can take the place of persistence. Talent will not; nothing is more common than unsuccessful people with talent. Genius will not; unrewarded genius is almost a proverb. Education will not; the world is full of educated derelicts. Persistence and determination alone are omnipotent. The slogan "press on" has solved and always will solve the problems of the human race" 

Easy Friday

This just in from Slowtwitch.com, the Hollywood Reporter of Triathlon. Gosh.

Friday's are easy, only a sunrise 5K and a 2x20 @ 80% of FTP at 1700. Then some tasty micro brews with my legal team (voting 4-1 in favor of IMC boycott). What kills me is the one, which makes two. Golly.

No banana for you

A couple of quotes before I light out for missive island. 

Great expectations create great disappointments. Anon.

It's not the end of the world. ibid.

I will not be racing Ironman Canada this year. There, it has been verbalized and shared. The reasons behind this are myriad. It is a long story. It has its moments of pathos and drama. It is important only to me. The story is mostly comical, in a paradoxical and ironic way. Mostly it's simply pathetic. I made some foolish decisions which all returned to haunt. The vibration of this will not cause any butterflies to die nor instigate a hurricane in the Midwest or a drought in China. In the bigger picture, nobody will even know, let alone care. In such a snit about forfeiting the $600 entry fee, missing a great opportunity to qualify for Kona and not partaking in the 30th anniversary of this truly special event, mostly I am devastated and humiliated in the fact that, above all, I have let a lot of people down and turned what could have been a unique opportunity into an embarrassing disappointment. I have failed. I did not get to the start line. That is job one. Be prepared and show up. 

Perhaps time will heal this wound. I will not give up. There is no quit. I will live to race again. It simply will not be this year. I will go to Kona again in October, work the expo, and witness on race day another spirited duel between and among the best triathletes in the world. I will again be inspired and motivated to continue what I began in 1994. I should be happy that I can still do this, grateful for the chance. Instead I feel like a baboon. Lying on the canvas, dizzy and bruised by a flurried combination of political reality and divine comedy, I have but one choice:

Get up and get on. Learn from it. Take the lesson, leave the blood on the tracks. 

I remain greatly disappointed. Oh, well, so what. I have been here before. Most likely will be again. What I don't want to be is a disappointment to those that have been supportive in so many ways along this rocky road. To you I offer my sincere apologies. We will just have to delay our shared gratification and victory a little while longer. I am using this as motivation. It is merely another hurdle along the same path. We will get there. Nobody ever said that one foot after the other meant in a straight line. 

And when we do get there, this latest round of disappointment will have played a major part. I STILL have great expectations. There will be additional disappointments. I will not throw the towel, nor allow my friends, teammates or allies to. It is not the end of the world….

It is the start. 

Postscript: I realize that there are details omitted in the above missive. The, what happened?, for example. Let me summarize by saying that a 'misunderstanding'  between myself and the Canadian agency controlling the fence between our countries temporarily prohibits my south to north passage. I guess I gave the wrong answer when asked if I had issues with authority. This will change and life will go on. The change, however frustratingly, will not happen by Sunday the 26th. 

In closing, I wish the very best of luck and God speed to all my friends who will be racing this year. Have a great day in Penticton and enjoy every mile. 

I will return. 

Post IMNY

Following on the NYC trip, here are a few links to some of the contacts made while taking a bite of The Apple:

Bobby Hammond is a thirteen year old triathlon phenom. He is coached by Mikael Hanson of Enhance Sports. Photo (topmost) is of Mike and Bobby, saddled atop the CompuTrainer. Bobby is the youngest triathlete ever to lend celebrity testimony to the indoor cycling ergometer of World Champions, Olympians and serious cyclists everywhere. Speed does not discriminate by age. 

Over at Chelsea Piers, they put on quite a show, including CompuTrainer Multi-Rider classes and coached training. They also produced an exceptional video (film) that deserves a look. Check it out here. 

I mentioned in class Monday my latest attempt to solve the pain in my right elbow (and wrist and shoulder) issue(s). As we spun out a series of climbing repeats, each with a sprint finish, I told the story of my adventure with Rock Tape. Here is their site, complete with tons of info, history and video. 

Mojo Socks are to sports fashion what Bono is to rock vocals. Yes, U2 can be a star on the rock, or triathlon, circuit simply by using pump compression to assist your recovery. Proven results, in a myriad of colors, all designed to get you to the top. And we know that is a long way if ya wanna rock and roll. 

The Everyday Triathlete boasts what I think is as accurate a report, with data and analysis on why we cramp when we run (fast or long) or bike (hard) as I have come across. Short answer: We are not prepared for the muscular stress levels when over working. There ya go. More training, more hills, more intensity and more volume. Mojo socks will help, too. 

All this of course if you are planning on racing. Some folks prefer sailing. Like Junior, shown above in preparation for his sailing lesson this morning at Eagle Harbor. Even managed to spot some starfish (unlike the Hudson) on my walk out. 

Lastly, because i knew you were going to ask, about what item(s) got left behind to get my suitcase to the required weight limit (50lbs) on the escape from Newark Sunday night. Pic should satisfy as answer. These fleas were just not made for my dogs.

Also pictured is a shot from the trees near Englewood on the PIP. You can guess what I was doing in the trees. No photo necessary. 

Have a great day. Decision on IMC tonight. 

Get to the Start LIne

"I know from experience that everyone out there who has a blue wristband has a story about their journey that’s equally improbable and amazing and hard to believe. Ironman is incredible. And it’s made incredible by all of you - the athletes that decide to undertake and endure the challenges of race day - like heat and humidity that make you wish for nothing more than to go stand inside a freezer for a really, really long time. But getting to the starting line is often just as - if not more - difficult than getting to the finish line, although there were times when I wasn’t sure those switchbacks in Riverside Park were ever going to end. "You’re telling me I have to turn around and run the other way AGAIN?"

Jordan Rapp's eloquent victory speech at the IMNY awards banquet was particularly poignant to this triathlete. For many reasons, but the one that resonates with irony is his astute observation that getting to the start line is often just as hard as getting to the finish. 

There will be another chapter added to this theme over the course of the next eleven days. The bib numbers are up for IMC. God willing (that is part of the story) I will be wearing (proudly) number 1929. My buddy Bob is number 1544. I remember the good old days when I was in the 1500 group!

In case you missed it on the YouTube site or over at our FB site, embedded is the four minute highlight from Ironman New York. I am glad to have had the opportunity to shoot some video as it now appears that this years inaugural event might also be the last. Very appropriate for The Big Apple: The One and Only.

Planning to do. Logistics to set. Strategies to formulate. Training to do. Intel to gather. A team to form. A goal to achieve. A journey to make. 

Get to the start line. 

- 0 -

Some interesting data and stats from Saturday's Ironman New York. Contrary to what I would have expected, the DNS rate (22%) was greater than the DNF rate (5.7%). That means that 596 people, for whatever reason (and I can guess) did not start the race and therefore forfeited their $950 entry fee to the race organizers. Works out to a cool $566,200. Oh, and btw, if you are considering entering the 2013 event, the price has gone up. It is now $1,200. Again dong some math, this is $8.53 per mile. Or, factoring the overall average finish time of 12:56, $1.54 per sixty seconds of racing. That my friends is the Ironman definition of a New York minute!

I am working on the video and should have something to show for the effort later tonight or tomorrow, latest. 

And speaking of stats, here are a couple of juicy ones culled from Men's Fitness magazine, my read from Charlotte to Seattle last night:

% of runners who experience an injury each year - 74

Minimum number of seconds a static stretch needs to be held to improve flexibility - 20

Average bike ride in minutes in the US - 40

% of Health Clubs that offer Yoga - 82

% of Americans who cite $$ as their biggest stressor - 75

% of calories in one cup of arugula - 5

Still have time for a run. After watching the men's 4x100 Saturday night, I might even try to finish with a little kick. 

Number of times I have run that fast - 0.

WOW.

Pic: Sign says "Go Complete Stranger". Number of times I have seen a sign that cool - 0 - Till Saturday in Ft. Lee. 

Scramble mode

I am being pressured by housecleaning to get my smelly stuff and self outta my room. Lot's of packing to do, and some tough decisions as to packing weight. I refuse to spend $90 for an overweight baggage charge, when all I have to do is take five pounds out of my check-in bag and carry it aboard in my backpack. This actual scenario happened on the flight out and I asked the US Airways check in attendant if it was really, and could he say it with a straight face, going to cost me (actually the company) almost a C note for four pounds. He said yes and did. Sea-Tac is a tough house, Newark cannot be much better. Badda-bing. So I begin the process. Something has got to go.

A few more shots are over at the FB site, because their photo album loads faster and I am now, officially, in scramble mode. Ciao