Quadzilla, or How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Love the Ice Bath

I am not a member of Marathon Maniacs, but over the course of this weekend, I have spent quite a few hours with several members during the accomplishment of what they refer to as Quadzilla—four marathons in four days. This is as much of a logistical accomplishment as it is a physical one. Had this happened on nearly any other weekend of the year, I would not have been able to participate, nor had it happened anywhere but in my own town of Houston, TX.

So why should you care that I just ran four marathons in four days? You might find the details interesting as I have through the course of the experience. First, a little perspective.  As some of you know, I’m a triathlete and ultra distance runner. I have run somewhere between a dozen and 20 marathons, although I haven’t taken count in a while. I’m typically a sub-4 marathon finisher and my PR is 3:43, which usually puts me right around the top third of finishers in the big races I run. It’s nothing extraordinary and I’m on the fast side of average. I’m also training for a 100 mile trail run.

On Friday, I ran the End of the World Marathon. On Saturday, I ran the After the End of the World Marathon. On Sunday, I ran the Apocalypse Survivor Marathon (see a theme here?) and this morning, I ran the Tired Santa Fatass Marathon. Here are my Garmin numbers:

Friday

Saturday

Sunday

Monday

As you can see, I went into each of them shooting for a 5-6 hour finish which is considerably slower than my typical marathons. I played it cautious and I think it was the right choice. There were a number of things that went about like I expected and a number of things which I was not prepared for. Much as you would expect, fatigue accumulated throughout the weekend and I became more and more tired with each progressive race. The mental fatigue was harder than the physical fatigue and part of this was due to the multiple loops especially on the 3^rd and 4^th days. The string of races took its toll on my immune system as well and by the 3^rd day I was coming down with a head cold and by today it was full-on, which made running a marathon just that much less pleasant.

What I found surprising was that the soreness in my legs seemed to peak after the 2nd race and stayed fairly consistent throughout day 3 and 4, although my calf did seize up a bit toward the end of the 4^th race. I would run a race and then come home and soak in an ice bath for as long as I could stand it and then try to just rest up for the next race. I also gained weight from eating and drinking during and between races. Maybe I shouldn’t be surprised by that, but considering I probably burned in the neighborhood of 10,000 calories as well as the 2000 or so I normally burn in a day, I really didn’t think I ate all that much.

So, all of this being said, why did I subject myself to this?

For one thing, it sounds pretty awesome! I ran four marathons in four days and it was quite challenging. It’s also something that I have been curious about and until now I had not easily had the opportunity to do so. I got to meet some really neat people who probably have mental conditions (meant in the kindest way, of course). I cannot otherwise explain why someone would feel compelled to run 100+ marathons in a year and meticulously document all of them. Of the group this weekend, there were at least five people who can claim that. Should I wish to join Marathon Maniacs, I can now jump straight to level 6, having finished Quadzilla.  The real reason I did it, though, was because I’m running a 100 mile trail race in February and running a marathon on tired legs is a fair simulation of how my legs may feel and behave 70, 80, 90 miles into the race.

In the process, I put up some pretty neat running numbers. If you take the week from last Tuesday through today, I ran over 123 miles and put in just shy of 24 hours on my feet. I ran Friday and Saturday with my friend Stef who is also doing the 100 with me. She also ran some more on the side and logged over 80 miles this weekend. I ran Sunday and Monday with my friend Rosie who ended up with 94 miles on the weekend. All three of us are preparing for Rocky Raccoon 100.

Some of the other guys there finished up today and drove off to San Antonio where there is a “12 Days of Christmas” series of marathons and they can keep their consecutive streaks alive all the way to 17 races in 17 days or perhaps even more. No thanks! Right now, my focus is on recovery, getting over this head cold, and paying off some of the time debt I have accumulated from my wife this weekend.

I got to spend some quality time with good friends. I got to meet interesting new people. I got to get some quality swag along the way, and I picked up some ridiculous oversized medals. All in all, a quality weekend.

2012 Ironman Austin 70.3: The end of the road

What a weekend! Where should I start? I guess this story really starts early in the year when I decided 2012 would be the year I did the Ironman sweep of Texas, meaning I planned to race every Ironman race in the state of Texas—three Ironman 70.3 races and the big daddy, Ironman Texas itself. I’m pretty sure it sounded like a really good idea at the time.

Back in April, when I was in the height of my Ironman Texas training, it occurred to me that I was getting some pretty heavy burnout. I distinctly recall thinking to myself that I wanted to hang up the goggles and bike shorts and just go get lost in the woods alone at night. Nonetheless, I toughed it out and raced Ironman Texas and did well.  Then about a month later, my wife and I headed up to Lubbock for Buffalo Springs 70.3 and admittedly, I coasted pretty hard on my Ironman fitness, but I still managed to do well enough.

…and that was it. No more biking and no more swimming after June 24^th. Admittedly, I picked up my running in earnest.  I put down some quality miles throughout the summer and enjoyed nearly every minute of it, but when it came time to hit the pool or dust off the bike, I just couldn't be bothered. Taking July off because taking August off, then taking September off and then all of a sudden it was October and the race was at the end of the month. I’m sure fear would push me back onto the bike for at least some remedial miles and I know it doesn't take more than a week to get back into 2000 meter swim fitness.  But it just never happened.

So the weekend of Austin Ironman 70.3 rolled around and it was time to quit talking and do this race. It would be my 7^th Ironman 70.3 race and my 3^rd time racing this course. I was curious to see where I would land—I assumed somewhere between the 7:25:43 from 2008 when this race was my first-ever half Iron race, and the following year when I raced 5:52:48, breaking six hours for the first time ever.

We drove into Austin and picked up my race packet, which was pretty uneventful aside from me being in line right behind two-time Ironman world champion Chris McCormack. After that, we drove down to the bike drop-off, but took some wrong turns and ended up driving the long way around the lake before getting to where we meant to go. That ended up being fun too because unbeknownst to us, a truck followed us the whole way.  When we finally got to the lake and parked, the truck parked next to us and the guy got out and made a joke. Introductions were made and Alida and I met Chris and Mindy from Houston. This would be Chris’ first triathlon and jumping straight into a 70.3 is a pretty ballsy move.

Alida chatted with Mindy by the cars while Chris and I checked in our bikes. We ended up inviting them to join us for pre-race dinner that evening with some other friends. Then we checked into the hotel. Apparently when booking online, I had never specified a non-smoking room, so the hotel was sold out and we got a smoking room.  Great. That actually didn't end up being too much of a problem.  What was a problem was being kept up all night by a massive college party in every room around us with people blaring Tejano music starting at about 2AM (when I assume they finally got kicked out of the clubs) and running until about 4.

Finally Alida and I had enough and we packed up our gear and checked out and rolled to the race side by about 4:30. Transition didn't even open until 5 so we hung out in the car for a while. It was quite cold that morning, bottoming out at 44 degrees. I had never done a triathlon in weather this cold before and I really didn't know what to expect.  Actually, I did know what to expect. I was going to suffer J

Eventually, folks showed up, we got everything ready, and hung around by the water’s edge to see the pros go off and wait for our respective wave starts. My group was called, I kissed Alida goodbye and entered the water, which, thankfully was 71 degrees and I was wearing a wetsuit.

5, 4, 3, 2, 1, GO! I know my swimming is way out of practice, but I have also been through enough of these to keep my cool and pace myself properly.  I hoped that my first-timer friend Chris was keeping his cool because a mass start is a terrifying experience the first time you do it. I swam a few hundred meters, then took a breaststroke or two and caught my bearings.  I was in no hurry whatsoever and I knew it would be a long day. I wanted to come out of the water in the 45-50 minute range.  That is slow for me, but not excessively slow. The swim went well and I emerged in pretty good shape in just over 42 minutes.

The wetsuit came off and I was down to just my little Speedo and quickly started freezing my tail off.  I opted not to wear a shirt under my wetsuit so that I would have a dry shirt to put on in transition for the bike. I believe this was an extremely wise decision in retrospect. I put on a pair of cycling shorts over the Speedo and put on my arm sleeves and a little cap to keep my head from burning through the slits in the helmet and off I went.

It occurred to me pretty quickly that I had not thought this through properly, as it was a cloudless sunny day and I had on no sunscreen whatsoever.  About ten miles into the ride I hit the first aid station and discovered they had sunscreen.  I pulled over to happily exchange three minutes of lost bike time for a good coating of sunscreen on my shoulders and face.

The ride wasn't too bad and I was happy to remember much of the course.  Lots of rolling hills.  Not a lot of wind to speak of. What I had forgotten about were the roads. Some of the road surfaces were pretty horrible. I ate every half hour and stayed on top of my water and Gatorade. Actually, I think my nutrition and hydration were pretty spot-on for the whole day. Just like I expected, my performance improved as my legs warmed up. I kept my gears low and my cadence high and tried not to overdo it, but of course I failed and pushed way too hard because no matter what happens before the race, when the gun goes off, it irritates me every time someone passes me and I want to chase them down.

At around mile 45, something happened.  I don’t know if it was the wind or the roads or the hills or what, but I felt strong. I was pushing and holding over 20 mph for stretches at a time. I caught my friend Mare as we rolled into the final mile leading back to transition.  As I passed her I asked how she was doing and if she wanted to run with me. Running in with her sounded like a good idea. She is a little slower and I had a feeling I was really going to pay the price for hitting the bike harder than I should have. Final bike time: just under Three hours and 23 minutes. My goal going in was to come in under four hours. I had one of my stronger rides despite not training for it. I think it was the weather.

I rolled into T2 and did another full clothing change. This was where I decided to have fun. The bike shorts came off and so did the tri top. I put on a short tank top and my Netwon running shoes and off I went in my blue unicorn rainbow Speedo. I had no idea how this would go over, but I really didn't care. On my way out of transition, I called for sunscreen and about five ladies assaulted me all at once, which is every bit as fun as it sounds like.

I ran out onto the run course feeling surprisingly strong.  As I ran by Alida, she led a chorus of wolf whistles and supportive comments to my unconventional running garb. It was a lot of fun.  I covered the first mile feeling pretty good in about seven and a half minutes, which is entirely unsustainable and my quads reminded me of this as they started to cramp up.  I tried to slow down my pace even more and go easy, but by the third mile, my legs were cramping so hard I had to talk a walk break.  I rubbed them as I walked and focused on breathing and eventually I got my legs under control again and was able to run at a much more reasonable pace. So began my afternoon of running. I would run for a while, feel strong, walk the aid stations, and then have to walk briefly every 45 minutes or so to get the cramps down.  No doubt this was because I went too hard on the bike. Leg cramps like this were a new experience for me so I tried to treat it as a learning experience.

The run course is three loops of a little over four miles and by the time I started my second loop, I realized that there was a chance I could finish the half marathon under two hours. I think of a two hour half marathon at the end of a half Ironman race as a good indicator of a strong race because it also means I didn’t wear myself too thin on the swim and the bike ride.  I had only ever gone sub-2 on the run twice before so it was an accomplishment worth pondering. Lots of people made comments on my shorts—most of them positive. I stayed on top of my hydration and tried to take some electrolyte drink (read: Gatorade) to help my cramping quads, but I knew they weren't cramping from a lack of potassium.  They were just overworked.

I made good time on the run and stayed strong as I watched my clock click closer to two hours.  In the end, I worked it out and came across the finish line in 1:58 with a smile and a sense of satisfaction.  My total time was 6:19:47 and I had completed the Texas sweep.

Galveston 70.3, Ironman Texas, Buffalo Springs Lake 70.3, Austin 70.3

I think this will draw to a close my relationship with World triathlon Corporation and the Ironman brand--at least for a while. I still feel like all I really want to do right now is run and I have all kinds of running adventures planned for 2013 and beyond. Never say never, but for now, the bike goes into the garage.

Now I have to rehab these legs quickly because I have a 50k trail run this coming Saturday and I don’t intend to miss it!

Ironman Texas 2012: Once More Unto the Breach

I remember a few things about the Ironman Texas 2011 triathlon.  One of my most vivid memories was during the marathon as the sun was getting low in the sky I distinctly remember thinking to myself, “This is not fun.  How did I ever think this was fun?” and then shortly afterwards, I finished the race and Mike Reilly told me I was an Ironman and I got all caught up in the excitement and three days later I had registered for the 2012 Ironman Texas.

Well that was a year ago.  In the meantime, a lot had changed.  Some things changed for the better, like my overall fitness and my education when it comes to endurance nutrition.  Some things changed for the worse, like my general enthusiasm for swimming.  I’ve never enjoyed swimming workouts and it still holds true.  I just get bored out of my mind swimming lap after lap in the pool.  So, after finishing my winter running calendar with an incredible Tahiti marathon in February, I threw myself half-heartedly (well, more than half-heartedly, maybe ¾-heartedly) into training for Ironman Texas 70.3 in Galveston at the beginning of April.

You see, I had gotten this idea in my head that I wanted to do the “Texas Sweep” as I called it.  Ironman puts on four M-Dot branded races in Texas every year.  Three of them are half Ironman races and then the big one, Ironman Texas in May.  The race in Galveston in April went very well and I raced it with my new low-stress attitude towards racing.  I told myself I was going to take the same approach for the big one, but I think really I was making some early excuses for some low-intensity training.  It wouldn’t have been so bad except that so many of my friends were knocking out phenomenal training weeks and I just didn’t have the dedication to match their workouts.

Of course, the day came, as it always eventually does and none of what I did before mattered because it was time to race.  Even before the race started, I knew a few things would be different this year.

·        It was going to be hotter - Bad

·        It was going to be sunnier – Bad

·        I had been slacking a bit on my training - Bad

·        My base fitness was better – Good

·        I had the benefit of knowing what I was getting into - Good

·        I felt like I had finally figured out my nutrition – Very Good

So just like before, we all crowded into the water in Lake Woodlands watching the big timer clock tick towards 7AM and when it got there a cannon went off and the PA system cranked out “Jump” by Van Halen and the muddy brown water of the lake turned white as 2500 arms and legs churned the surface and off we went on our 2.4 mile aquatic journey which made up the first leg of the race.  As expected, the mass swim start was crazy.  It was hard to find a piece of water to take a decent stroke without having someone crawl up your back or without you going up over someone else.  I kept myself calm and told myself that I just needed to keep breathing and protect my face and eventually things would thin out.  And of course they did.

None of my training swims had been over 2000 meters and the Ironman swim is just shy of 4000 meters.  I had a hunch it really wouldn’t matter though, because once I got into my swimming rhythm, I felt like I could just go forever.  My goggles eventually fogged and I did the same trick I did last year.  I pulled them up, rubbed my thumbs on the inside of the goggles, and then flushed them out.  I don’t know if my thumbs were greasy or the water was just that filthy or what, but sure enough, they stayed clear for the rest of the swim.  We swam from North Shore Park down to South Shore Park and then turned around to come back.  Just before we returned to the beginning, we took a right turn into one of the canals and swam through part of the river walk as fans lined the sides of the canal cheering for us.  I swam right by our apartment and I knew Alida would be up on the balcony, so as I got close, I shouted out to her and sure enough, she heard me and saw me and gave me a wave.  I yelled out, “See you in six and a half hours!” and finished up my swim.  I got out of the water in 91 minutes, which was within a minute or two of last year’s swim time.  Hey, at least it’s consistent.

Just like last year, I took my time in transition.  I put on my cycling gear and slipped on a pair of cycling shorts over my tri shorts, which has always proven to be a good thing.  I strapped on my hydration fanny pack, got on my bike, and off I went for the 112 mile ride.  T1 was about 10 minutes and that was just fine with me.

Like I said earlier, my plan was about 6:30:00 on the bike.  I knew this year would be hotter and without the benefit of cloud cover, which we had last year.  I had my water all set and I had my secret weapon this time—the coconut date balls.  My nutritionist, Penny Wilson, had devised these last year as a “food on the go” solution for long-distance endurance running and they worked so well, I decided to work them into my cycling routine as well.  My watch beeped every five miles and that told me it was time to pop another one of them and chase it down with water.  Not only are they high in carbs, but high in salt as well.  If I could keep my salt up, I thought I could keep my energy up.  I was right!

The bike course was absolutely predictable.  I had ridden it last year in the race and I had done much of my training on the race course—an advantage of a local Ironman race.  The upside was that I knew every bump, curve, and hill on the course.  I knew where the roads were bad and I knew where I would get a headwind.  Unfortunately, it also meant I got to spend all of the fun parts thinking about just how long it would be until the next lousy part.  The sun baked my shoulders despite applying generous amounts of sunblock.  The hills were heavy and my butt ached from hours in the saddle.  Then my legs ached from hours of turning the gears.  Then everything ached.  I kept watching my GPS to see how far I had gone since the last time I looked at it.  70, 80, 90, 100 miles and finally I was back in The Woodlands.  Just 12 miles to go, but what a long 12 miles.  By the time I got back to transition, I truly wondered how I was going to have the strength to get off my bike, let alone run a marathon.  Total time on the bike: 6:33:52 — about 8 minutes slower than last year.

Despite my concerns, I got off my bike just fine.  I hobbled back into the changing tent and my buddy Rik was there volunteering, as was my father.  They talked to me as I stripped off my helmet and cycling shoes then put on my socks and running shoes.  Another round of sunblock and off I went onto the run course.  T2 time was again about 10 minutes.

Heading out on the run course, I waited for the nearly instant feedback from my body telling me I simply would not be able to run.  This is what happened last year.  This year it was a little different.  I think it was the nutrition, but I was actually able to run a bit.  Of course, I still needed a lot of walk breaks, but it wasn’t like before where the marathon seemed hopeless.  I was in high spirits and joked with strangers and high-fived friends when I saw them.  It took me a good 7 or 8 miles, but eventually, I actually found my legs and I was able to carry on a sub-11:00 pace and sometimes even sub-10:00 pace for a few miles at a time, before having to take a few minutes of walking to recover.  I stayed on top of my hydration and even choked down some of the awful-tasting mango Ironman Perform (relabeled Gatorade essentially)

I started my marathon at about 2:30PM and it was absolutely cooking out there.  I remember that as the afternoon went on, the trees along the side of the course cast longer shadows and that was where I ran.  It wasn’t so bad in the shade.  One aid station had fresh0cut watermelon and in addition to tasting wonderful, it gave my mind something to think about as I dug out the seeds and spit them out.  The run is a three loop course of about nine miles per loop.  By the time I finished my first loop and started on the second, I felt like I had a pretty good rhythm going.  Every time I would run by friends, I would give a big thumbs up and smile and tell them how great I felt.  It was only kind of a lie because I really didn’t feel too bad—just tired.

The second loop went the same way and some of the aid stations started cooking up big pots of chicken broth.  When I’m tired and dehydrated, a nice hot cup of chicken broth is like a magic potion for me.  Never mind the fact that temperatures outside were still in the high 80s.  The hot salty broth was just what I needed and it kept be going from aid station to aid station begging for another cup of broth.  By the time I was on my third loop, I felt better than I did on the first two.

Several times, the course makes an out-and-back path so you will be running one way and cross paths with people who are a decent ways ahead of or behind you.  On the last loop, I crossed paths with Sylvia.  Sylvia almost didn’t race this race.  She had gotten injured recently and her training had not been up to her standard.  She was extremely discouraged and many of us pushed her hard to start the race.  We told her that even if she dropped out, she should start the race and see how far she could go.  She was hurting, but when I saw her on the run course, I knew she was going to finish.  I stopped and gave her a big hug and we went our separate ways.

When you are out on a race for hours and hours, you have a lot of time to do math in your head.  With about five miles to go, I realized that I could make a run at finishing under fourteen hours.  My only stated time goal before the race was that I kind of sort of wanted to finish in 13:xx.  I also knew it would mean no more walking.  I needed to start running and keep running so I did just that.  My Garmin started ticking off mile splits as I went.  11:25 one mile while walking the aid station.  9:45 the next mile where there was no aid station.  I ran past Alida and the group around mile 22 or 23 and told them I was trying to finish before 9PM and for her to please call my dad.  It was probably 8:15PM when I said this.  They were a ways from the finish line and I wanted to give them time to get there ahead of me.  I started seeing people on the side of the course wearing their finisher medals and that motivated me even more.  I wanted my medal!

The last two or three miles went by really smoothly.  I really only remembered walking the last aid station for long enough to drink a hot cup of chicken broth and then it was back to the grind.  As I entered the finisher chute, I high-fived people all around me.  I even found my dad in the crowd and ran over to greet him as I went by.  I tried to time my finish so that nobody was very close in front of me or behind me.  I wanted Mike Reilly, the voice of Ironman, to give me the full Ironman shout-out.  Well it turns out he did just that and it was great!

I crossed the finish line a little before 8:45PM with a finishing time of 13:42:42.  My good friend Chad, who was volunteering, was waiting at the line for me to cross with a big smile on his face.  He had one more surprise for me.  He led me over to get my finisher medal and the person who put it around my neck was none other than four-time Ironman world champion and world record holder Chrissie Wellington, who did not race but was in town for this race as an ambassador for the sport.  Go ahead and Google her and almost any picture you will find of her will show her with a huge smile on her face.  She is unfailingly positive and energetic.  She congratulated me and gave me my medal and just like that it was all over.  Several of my friends were volunteering in the finisher’s chute and Alida was right there outside the fence.  I was tired and ready to stop running, but I didn’t feel broken.  There was no nausea, no cramping, no shakes or shivers.  It was a warm evening and once my body had calmed itself down, there was nothing I wanted so badly as a chair and some food.  Thankfully, I promptly found both.  My friend Ron finished only a couple minutes ahead of me and another friend Curtis, who came down from New York, finished just a couple of minutes behind me.  It was great.  It felt like a reunion right there in the finisher’s chute.

Eventually, I rested up enough to make the half mile walk to transition to pick up my bike and my gear bags.  Then another short walk put us back in the apartment.  I had a shower and downed probably four more bowls of the salmon quinoa salad Alida had prepared for the weekend.  I really wanted to go back down to the finish line for the midnight finish.  Every Ironman race ends at midnight, which is 17 hours after it starts.  This is the way it works all over the world.  Everyone in the race knows it and if you finish one second after midnight, you are not an ironman.  It’s just the rules.  This, of course, makes for some really emotional finishes as the clock ticks closer to midnight.

Jay at the finish line with his coach Dave Shaw

I’m glad I went.  Several of my friends finished in the last fifteen minutes of the race.  Michael Simpson, who was the next-to-last finisher last year with less than five minutes to spare, managed to slightly better his time this year, finishing with a gracious bow to the crowd.  Jay Farr, 74 years old, was the oldest competitor in the race.  Jay was also the oldest finisher of the race, trotting in with several minutes to spare.  Jay won his age group and secured a coveted Kona slot, meaning he got a guaranteed entry into the Ironman World Championship in Hawaii in October.  I never saw Sylvia cross the finish line.  I found out later that she had in fact finished several minutes before I arrived.  I was so happy for her.  It was not her first Ironman race, but she took on a big challenge this time and made good on it.

I also learned that I just don’t really enjoy the full Iron distance events all that much.  I don’t have the focus to train rigorously for a high performance finish and as a result, I suffer out there on the course.  Never say never, but I don’t see another Ironman race on my radar.  The 70.3 (half Ironman distance) races are a lot of fun and I will continue racing them, but I just may be done with 140.6 mile races.  All in all, it was a good day and a day to remember.  I beat my previous year’s time by nearly an hour on a much tougher day when nearly all of my friends finished slower than the year before.

Ironman Texas 70.3 - Here we go again!

It has been an interesting winter and spring leading up to Ironman Texas 70.3 this weekend.  All of my winter training was running in preparation for Rocky Raccoon 100.  In fact, I had not done a swim workout since Ironman Texas back in May.  After Tahiti, I decided enough was enough and I got back in the pool for some 2000 meter workouts, but only three weeks before the race I had no idea how my fitness would be.

Two weeks prior, my friend Jeremy and I rode 50 miles then went straight into a two-hour run, which did well to simulate the bike and run portions of the race.  I did them at a light intensity, but I got through them feeling pretty good and it boosted my confidence going into the race.  Nonetheless, I really felt underprepared so I decided to take it easy on the race and treat it as a training workout for the full Ironman event in May.

We checked my bike in on Saturday and picked up my race packet, as was the requirement.  The drive down to Galveston was slow.  Traffic was heavy because good weather was predicted for the weekend in addition to the 3000+ people heading down for the race.  I checked in my bike and then went to visit a lot of friends who were working the expo.  One nice thing about being the president of the biggest triathlon club in Houston is that I have gotten to know a LOT of people in the local triathlon scene and it’s always nice to see a friendly face.

My stress level was at all all-time low before this race.  Accepting that I was not going to go all-out put me in a very positive frame of mind.  I planned to have a good time and encourage everyone around me. My personal best on this course was 5:37:17 back in 2010.  Tentatively, I wanted to come in under 6 hours, but if that didn’t work out… well I was fine with that too.  Alida and I drove back to Friendswood and met up with my dad.  We stayed there Saturday night.  It’s an easy 45 minute drive to the race from there and despite the alarm going off at 4:30AM I still got about seven hours of quality sleep.

Alida made me a bowl of oatmeal with walnuts and banana and off we went.  Traffic was light until we got near race parking and we ended up parking about a mile away from the transition area.  That was annoying, but no big deal.  I had plenty of time before transition closed.  We hung around our club’s tent as people started to show up.  Steve had spent the night in the back of his truck while tending his massive BBQ trailer.  Steve is great.  He takes a lot of pride in his grilling and everyone always appreciates his contributions.  Today would be no exception.

Just look at this guy.  Pure dedication!

After transition closed and everything had been set up, there was nothing left to do but wait around.  The pro wave, including Lance Armstrong, went into the water at 7AM.  My wave wasn’t until 7:55.  This was fun because I got to hang around outside the transition area and see the pros come charging out of the water 25 minutes later.  Lance was in the first group and quickly off onto the bike.  After that I made my way down to the water and jumped in with my wave.  3. 2. 1. GO!

I had forgotten what it felt like to be in salt water in a wetsuit, but it’s great.  It feels like cheating.  I was as buoyant as a cork and glided across the surface of the water with minimal effort.  I deliberately went out at a controlled and light pace because the last thing I needed to do was stress out and exhaust myself on the swim.  My goggles never leaked or fogged and I was able to see far into the distance.  As a result, I had no problem staying on course and after 39 minutes, I popped out onto the shore relaxed and ready to go for a bike ride.  Of course, I didn’t know until after the race what my swim time was because I completely forgot to look at my watch.  That’s how easy I was taking things.

After a somewhat slow transition including me putting on my arm sleeves and a quick spray of sunblock, I was off on the bike.  There was a slight headwind on the way out, but it was not crushing.  I just kept telling myself “Wait until the turnaround and you’ll have it at your back.” About ten miles in, I saw the pros coming back.  Lance was in the lead with a guy about 10 seconds back from him.  That was too close.  Lance was going to have to have a pretty spectacular run if he was going to win today.  I kept a bottle cage on my bike open for water and Gatorade hand-ups from the aid stations.  Bicycle aid stations are an interesting experience.  It’s not always easy to grab a bottle from someone at 20mph.

The ride went pretty well and I knew I was working my legs pretty hard, but even though it was tough, it felt good so I kept it up.  I got passed a lot and I passed a lot of people.  Our race bibs have names on them so I greeted people by name as I went by.  “Good job, Steve!”  “Good job, Kim!”  People seemed to like that and it gave me something to do while grinding away at my pedals.  I hit the turnaround at 28 miles and much to my pleasure, the promised tailwind was legit.  It wasn’t massive, but I could definitely feel the difference.  Sections where I had been pushed down to 16mph on the way out were now a comfortable 19 or 20mph on the way back.  I still felt great and my nutrition seemed to be holding up.  I just didn’t know how I was going to feel on the run.  Oh well, I’ll find out soon enough.

Time went quickly and before long I was turning back into the race venue and heading for transition.  After a quick change of shoes and a hat and one more spray of sunscreen, I grabbed some food and went out onto the run course for a half marathon.  As they say in triathlon, “You ride for show and you run for the dough.”  That would explain why I’m broke.  But it’s an accurate statement.  You never really know how your race will go until you get out there on your feet for the run.  Heading out of transition, I needed to hit the restroom, which is a very good thing because it means I had been handling my hydration properly.  I made a right turn out of transition and ran right by our club’s aid station.  All my friends were there as well as Alida and my father.  Everything was feeling great.

Normally when you get off the bike, your legs feel very heavy and you are subject to an optical illusion.  I had just spent the last three hours watching the world go by me at 18 miles per hour on the bike.  Now I’m getting off and running at 7 or 8 miles per hour and everything just feels so SLOW!  It’s easy to go out way too fast without even realizing it, but luckily, I am aware of the effect and have the experience to know to take it easy for the first quarter mile.  As it was, my legs felt really good.  In fact, I thought a sub-2 hour half marathon might be in the cards for me—a feat I’ve only managed once before at a half Ironman race.

I think nutrition was the reason I was able to keep feeling good.  On the bike, I had a bottle of water and a bottle with six scoops of Perpetuem, which is pretty thick in that quantity.  Six scoops is about 900 calories and appropriate for a 3-hour ride.  I finished the bottle and drank several additional bottles of water given by the aid stations.  On the run, I took a page from my Rocky Raccoon nutrition playbook and had some coconut date balls.  These things are magical.  They are made with dates, nutritional yeast, white miso paste, maple syrup and a heaping portion of salt.  You put them in a food processor, then roll them up into little balls and finally roll them in shredded coconut.  They taste sweet and even a single ball is incredibly filling.  You can feel the calories as soon as you eat it.  It was a little hard to eat them on the run, but I knew they would keep my energy up and they did.  I had three of them on each of the three loops.

Speaking of the three loops, let me take a minute to talk about the new run course.  In the past, the run course was a four-loop course around the Moody Gardens resort.  It had a lot of turns and doubled back overitself a lot.  Some people didn’t like it but I never minded.  There are four aid stations per loop and that made for 16 aid stations on a 13.1 mile race.  I thought that was outstanding.  This year, they kept most of the course, but added on an additional leg across an adjacent airfield runway.  This expanded the course and dropped the loops to three.  The runway section was easily the least popular part of the course.  It was right at the end of each loop, there was NOTHING to provide shade and aside from an aid station right at the beginning, there was nothing out there but an endless line of runners all suffering.

Since I was in high spirits and feeling good, I was running at a comfortable pace and walking the aid stations as I tried to wash down my food.  Along the way, I saw many friends and fellow competitors and greeted them all.  In particular, I saw Brandon a few times.  Brandon is a blind athlete who competes in triathlons and endurance events.  I’ve known Brandon for a couple of years and I am continually inspired by his determination and his accomplishments.  Someday I’ll write a blog post all about Brandon.  Anyway, he was out there with his running guide and they were going strong.

My first and second loops went well and I held a steady pace of about 9:15 per mile, which put me on course for a little over two hours on the half marathon.  I was ok with that.  I figured I would probably be pretty close to six hours and I felt so good that I was content with however it worked out.  I have never in my life felt this good during a 70.3 triathlon.  While I was in the dreaded airport section near the end of my second loop, Wendy Hammerman ran up on me.

Wendy is a good friend and she’s a fiercely competitive person.  She is very driven and any time she puts on her race gear, she’s looking for a personal best.  She must have started several waves after me because I knew she was much stronger on the bike and she was obviously running faster than me.  But she wasn’t running THAT much faster than me.  So I picked up my pace little bit and ran alongside her for a while.  Wendy was hurting.  She couldn’t catch her breath and was desperately chasing a new personal best for the race.  I was feeling good so I figured I would run with her for a little while and then send her off when I didn’t feel comfortable holding her pace any longer.

We finished the second loop together and ran by our club’s aid station.  By that point, Wendy was moving well and I told her I just didn’t feel like working that hard so I sent her on her way.  By the time I got to the next aid station, Wendy was still walking it so I grabbed my gear and ran up to her.  We ran together for a little bit and I sent her on ahead again.  This became a sort of ritual on the last loop.  She’d go off and then walk the aid station until I caught her.  We’d run together for a moment and off she went.  As good as I was feeling, I got the impression she didn’t want me to talk to her anymore because she was very much in the zone.  She got this weird mantra to get her through the last loop that she would repeat out loud over and over.  “Beach, Airport, Finish” describing the three parts of the loop we had left.  She said it so much that people around us started looking at her and I announced she was my pet parrot.  That seemed to get some laughs.  Wendy did not laugh.  We got past the beach and her mantra changed to “Airport, Finish.”  None of us were looking forward to one last trip through the airport, but there was nothing to do but run it so off we went.

By this point we were running together more often than not and even though I was working harder than I planned, I was happily watching my average pace fall to right around the two-hour half marathon pace.  Once again I picked up the hope that maybe I could come in under two hours.  After we left the airport, there was only about half a mile to go and I asked Wendy if she wanted to go on ahead and dig out a sprint finish.  I wouldn’t have minded, but I had no plans to do that.  She said no and we should finish together.  That sounded like a plan and so we did--right through the finisher’s chute.

As it turns out, I finished the half marathon in 1:59:12, which made me smile.  More importantly, I felt so good I could have gone out for another loop (not that I had any intention of doing so).  Wendy did indeed make her personal best and my overall finishing time was 5:49:54.  Not only did I come in well under six hours, I was only 12 minutes off my personal best on this course.  That gave me some pause for consideration.  If I can race comfortably and finish with a smile and feel great after the race, but still finish only 12 minutes off my all-time best, then why should I be turning myself inside out on these races?  I plan to do a lot more comfortable racing.  The stress is low, the fun is high, and the entire experience is far more enjoyable this way.  And apparently, it’s 95% as fast as when I go all-out.

The first time I saw her smile all day.

2012 Tahiti Moorea Marathon

I think I could get used to racing here.

We arrived in Moorea on Saturday morning and checked into the Hilton, which was very nice.  Packet pickup was the same day several miles away down near the airport.  As we wandered around the common area trying to figure out how we would get to packet pickup, we ran into Team Austria who was staying at the Hilton as well.  Three men and three women were completely decked out in Austria running kits and one guy was waving a giant flag around.  It was great!

Team Austria

After trying to figure out why the shuttle to the packet pickup had not arrived, we started fending for ourselves.  The parking lot guard, Serge, had an interesting idea for getting our packets—he tossed me the keys to his car.  Well, at least I assume it was his car.  At any rate, the car sat the four of us and I hopped in the driver’s seat and got a quick refresher on driving a manual transmission.  It had been a few years, but I got it all sorted out pretty well and we were on our way.

Packet pickup was on the beach and, as one might expect from a low-key affair, it was pretty basic.  Chris and Genevieve had their packets waiting for them, but Alida and I were not on the books.  That was annoying, but after a bit of finagling, we managed to convince them to let us run anyway.  I have no idea where the money went, but I know we paid entry fees so I don’t feel the least bit worried about them getting paid.

After packets were sorted out, we wandered around the “expo” for a bit while they got things set up for the pasta dinner.  I have to give them credit, they did everything right, it was just a very basic version of it, but when you are in paradise, you learn to go with the flow and so we did.  We browsed some of the vendors and sat around listening to some music for a while as we watched the ocean.  Eventually, we all had some very simple pasta and chicken, then headed back and returned the keys to Serge.  It was off to bed early for a 3:30 wakeup the next morning.

The alarm went off and we grabbed out gear.  The Hilton had very kindly prepared breakfast boxes for us since the dining area didn’t open until 6—long after we would be on the road.  We got all of our gear together and met up with Team Austria as we waited for the shuttle to the race.  After catching a ride to the Total Gas Station, which also doubled as the race start, we had some time to kill as we got ourselves situated and figured out our game plans for this race.  Chris and I were running the full marathon, starting at 4:30AM, and Alida and Genevieve were running the half, which started at 5AM.

My game plan was to throw all expectations out the window.  I knew I had a pretty nasty sinus infection and I really shouldn’t even be running this race.  I refused to take any Tylenol or Advil because those do not mix with endurance activities.  I just had to tough this one out.  The cutoff was six hours and I planned to keep my heart rate under 150.  I knew it would be hot and humid so I decided to run with my two liter hydration vest and I brought eight Pedialyte packets.  Water stations were scheduled every 2.5k so I planned to have a Pedialyte packet with water every 5k.  This should keep my chemistry pretty solid and all the water should keep me hydrated.  I had no idea how recovered I was after my bout with Rhabdomyolysis only two weeks prior, but I planned to take no chances.

The gun went off and so did we.  Chris and I were right back in the rear of the pack heading out as I monitored our pace and my heart rate.  I wanted to get into a flow of slow and steady right from the start and not get too excited and go out hard.  The first few miles went well and we settled into an easy pace that allowed us plenty of conversation.

I should take a moment to describe the water stations.  The day before the race, we saw the people constructing them on the side of the road.  The people built a framework of bamboo and then thatched the roofs with palm leaves.  They were completely homemade and absolutely perfect!  They offered cups of water, various fruit drinks, and lots of chopped fruit.  I really felt like Moorea takes this marathon seriously, which made me very happy.  Many stations also had people playing music and dancing.  It was exactly the way you would expect a Tahitian marathon aid station to look and sound.  The Pedialyte was a bit hard to choke down sometimes and I really felt like I was drinking more of it than I needed, but I knew the reward outweighed the risk so I chugged away.

The course is a 42 km out and back with the turnaround just before 21km, which means we overrun the end and ended up at the beach near the packet pickup area.  I’m not one to complain about finishing a marathon on a beautiful tropical beach, but first there was a race to run.

Chris and I plodded onward having a great time, chatting, taking photos, and dancing along with the musicians, which always brought some laughs.  Chris started struggling a bit before the turnaround and I stuck with him for a while, but he waved me on and so on I went.  I hit the turnaround and picked up the customary red garter belt, which was how they knew you ran all the way to the turnaround before returning.  After the turnaround, I saw that Chris wasn’t very far behind me and he was still in good spirits, so I wished him well and continued.

The sun had come up by this point and I was over two and a half hours into the race.  I was starting to get a little bit tired even though I wasn’t exerting the intensity I normally do on a marathon.  I jogged onward, taking walk breaks whenever my heart rate would top 150 and then walking until it got back under 130.  This was a pretty good system and I knew I was ahead of cutoff pace, so I saw no reason to change things up.  It would just be a long morning.

About 30k in, I jogged up on a couple of guys who were walking at a strong pace.  I ran up on them and tried to make some light conversation.  They were both Tahitian and spoke not much English, but we exchanged thumbs up and general encouragement.  I walked with them for a while and then decided it was time to jog onward.  The views of the two bays were spectacular, especially during and after sunrise.  I stopped many times for photographs of the stunning vistas.

After leaving the two Tahitian gentlemen, I eventually came upon another runner near the 35k mark.  This guy did speak some English.  His name was Christian and he was from France.  He was an older gentleman and this was his 85^th marathon.  He had just flown in from a diving trip in the Marquesas Islands, which are the most remote islands in French Polynesia.  We walked some, jogged some, and chatted a while.  We were moving along nicely and the much-awaited 40km mark finally fell to the wayside and I knew we didn’t have much more to go.  After we passed the gas station where we started, we went further then split off into the jungle.

The last bit of path was through the jungle eventually, dropping us on the beach as we ran up to the finish line were we found Alida waiting for us.  My finishing time was 5:42:29, which is by far the slowest marathon I have ever run (not counting Ironman) but I have no regrets.  The sinus infection was a bummer, but I took care of business and I banked my third continent.  French Polynesia counts as Oceania.  The finisher’s medal was even pretty neat and I got a shirt as well.  The best part—The vacation was only just beginning!

Here’s the tale of the Garmin.

Rocky Raccoon 100 Mile Trail Run - DNF

Last year at the 2011 Rocky Raccoon 100 mile trail race, I had a great night of running and made it over 75 miles before my inexperience in nutrition took me out of the race.  This was supposed to be the year that I set the record straight.  Things did not go according to plan.

Let me start by contrasting the races this year and last year.  Last year’s 100 mile trail run was the weekend of a severe ice storm.  Starting temperature, while clear, was 28 degrees.  All of the footbridges were covered in ice and running after dark was bitterly cold.

This year, temperatures were better, but conditions were miserably rainy.  I thought that would make things better, but it actually made the event harder.  I base this on the fact that last year’s finishing time was nearly 45 minutes faster than this year’s time.  As we pulled into Huntsville State Park at 5AM on race morning, the sky opened up and torrential rain came down.  Not just rain, but a true storm.  Lightning lit the sky and I had time to think about just what I was getting myself into.  As we prepared to line up in the start area, I made a last-minute decision to switch into running tights instead of shorts and to run in my Houston Dynamo rain jacket.

Rain at the race start (taken from Ian Sharman's blog)

I went out at a quick but comfortable 12:00/mile pace with Sarah and the two of us ran the 10k to the Dam Road aid station uneventfully.  The torrential rain had already created some massive puddles and runners were presented with the option of running right down the middle or trying to skirt the puddles.  I was very conscious of my nutrition and calorie intake after last year.  I had spent a lot of time working with Penny Wilson on getting together a race day plan and I intended to stick to it.  At my Dam Road drop bag, I topped off my water again and grabbed another Perpetuem packet.

We ran the 6.5 mile Dam Road loop without incident as well.  This part of the course was not as boggy and featured several long inclines that gave me walking break opportunities to spin my waist pack around and get at the food I had picked up.  In this case, it was four rice balls wrapped in seaweed.  I was consuming calories at about the limit of my ability to take them in.  I wanted to set the tone early for how I planned to eat throughout the day.  We made it back to the Dam Road aid station at the 20k mark and again I grabbed another packet of Perpetuem and topped off my water.  My hydration and my nutrition were spot on.  I also grabbed a packet of potatoes to eat on the move.  I was spending an extremely short period of time at the aid stations, which was another thing I wanted to do better from last year.

From that point, I passed through the Park Road station and eventually, Sarah and I finished our first loop at mile 20.  We came in at 10:02AM meaning our first loop was just a touch over four hours.  That was a little fast, but not taxing for the first loop and besides, it was nice to know we had a little cushion of time for later on.  I topped my water, but missed Alida who had my drop bag.  As I was running out, I told her to meet me 5k later on at the Nature Center, which she did.

One thing that did strike me as odd about the first loop was that I was beginning to feel some fatigue in my quads.  That didn’t seem right to me.  I had two solid weeks of rest and I certainly wasn’t running hard enough to have tired quads so soon.  I resolved to slow the pace a bit and be more attentive on the second loop.  As we went out on the second loop, the 100 mile leaders were already coming in at the end of their second loop.  Ian, Hal, and Karl led the way with race numbers 1, 2, 3.  By the time I got to the nature center, my quads were noticeably fatigued and it was starting to concern me a little bit.  I was only 23 miles into the race—not even ¼ of the way finished.

By the time I made it through the Dam Road station again, I was really sore to the point where I wanted to take some walk breaks every now and again.  Something had to change or else I was going to be in trouble.  I just couldn’t figure out what was going wrong.  My hydration, nutrition, and calorie intake were right where they were supposed to be.  I crossed paths with Stef, who was running her first 50-miler.  I was proud of the way she had been approaching this race and we trained together on a few long runs leading up to this race.  It was good to run with her.  Eventually, we reached the 50-mile cutoff and she turned right whereas I had to go straight.

After Stef split off, I stepped behind a tree to relieve myself.  This was good.  Having a full bladder meant I was managing my hydration properly.  What was not good was when my urine came out the color of coca cola.  At first I thought it was blood, but it reality it was much darker.  This is when I knew I had a problem.  I have done all kinds of long distance training runs and ultramarathons in the past and I’ve never had this happen before.  I called Alida on the phone and told her of the troubles with fatigue I was having and my most recent shock of the kidney issue.  We decided it would be best to finish the 6.5 mile loop back to Dam Road and then ask someone about it once I got there.

Once I hit the 28 mile turnaround and unmanned timing mat, my legs were so tired I almost could not run at all.  Even hiking felt like a chore.  I called Alida again and we discussed the very real possibility of me having to drop out of the race before I was even 1/3 of the way through with it.  It turned out I would never even make it to the next aid station.  It got so bad I had to stop at a park bench and rest for a few minutes.  Eventually, I had the energy to walk a half mile or so to the next park bench on the dam itself.  Looking across the lake I could see the finish line close by even though it was over 8 miles away by way of the race course.  I decided I could not continue.

I called Alida and told her to have the race crew either send an ATV to pick me up or if possible, to send a boat across the lake.  It turns out they were able to send a boat, which was much shorter and faster.  As I sat and waited for the boat, it began to rain again and I got colder and began to shiver.  It was early-stage hypothermia, but I was not concerned because I knew I would be picked up in a matter of minutes.  It was still pretty unpleasant though.  Final score: 30.5 miles.

The boat picked me up and took me to the medical tent.  I laid on a cot and they covered me with blankets.  Once I warmed up a little bit, I was able to get some chicken soup down.  When I described my strange and seemingly unrelated symptoms to the doctor, she immediately told me it sounded like I had Rhabdomyolysis, which I had never heard of before.  Apparently it is not all that uncommon in ultra distance runners.

Rhabdomyolysis is the breakdown of muscle fibers that leads to the release of muscle fiber contents (myoglobin) into the bloodstream. Myoglobin is harmful to the kidney and often causes kidney damage.  Symptoms include: Abnormal urine color (dark, red, or cola colored), Decreased urine production, General weakness, Muscle stiffness or aching (myalgia), Muscle tenderness, Weakness of the affected muscles.  Well heck, I had five of the six symptoms right there.  But why did I get it here and now?  The most common cause of it in ultra runners is dehydration, but I had been very careful in taking in the right amount of fluids throughout the race.

Most importantly, the doctor told me that I should drink a lot of fluids and electrolytes.  If I can flush the color from my urine, then I’m good to go, but if I cannot, then I need to go to the emergency room.  I didn’t like the sound of that.  I drank a ton of water, chicken noodle soup, and Gatorade and eventually, everything came out clear like it was supposed to.

The reason for why I experienced this was a complete mystery until the drive home the next day when it all came together.  I had made a last-minute decision to run in my Houston Dynamo rain jacket.  It did a good job of keeping my upper body dry and warm, but it removed all ventilation.  I had wondered why my running shirt was soaking wet under my jacket and why water would pour out of my sleeves every time I lowered my arms.  I just assumed some rain had gotten into it.  After looking at the results from my Garmin GPS watch, I see that my heart rate was also far higher than it should have been right from the start.  I'm not exactly sure about why this is, but I do believe that was a factor as well.  http://connect.garmin.com/activity/147545601

I was disappointed to have to drop out of the race for the second straight year, especially considering I had put so much effort into training and preparing for it this time around, only to be taken out of the race by possibly the last thing I would have imagined.  All I can say is that I will be back again next year with yet another hard-earned piece of wisdom and experience.

I would like to give thanks to everyone who donated toward my fund raiser for Team COCI.  Even though I was unable to meet my goal this time around, I can assure you that this money will go to children who are in great need all over the world.

I should mention I feel fine now (unfortunately) and I believe the danger has passed.  Next stop: the Tahiti Moorea marathon!

It seems Rocky Raccoon 100 has become a bit more sophisticated and is offering online tracking now at http://www.ultralive.net/rr100/webcast.php

I'm racer number 61 if you're interested.  The race starts at 6AM Central time this Saturday and with some luck, I'll be finishing just before 6AM on Sunday.

Hello (again), world

After some real headaches, I finally managed to get my Google account associated with blogspot.com properly again. For a while, I had just about given up hope, but here I am again.

So, lots of good races and race reports were missed between IMTX and now. Maybe I should go back and add them in. Reykjavik Marathon, Portland Marathon, four different 50k races including a new PR of 5:07 and just recently, I led the 4:15 pace team at the Houston Marathon on an interesting and thoroughly fun tour around town.

Last November I was elected president of Houston Racing Triathlon Club and I'm having all kinds of fun and adventures leading that group into new and ever better horizons.

I suppose the most immediate thing on my mind is the Rocky Raccoon 100 mile trail run which is less than ten days away. I have been training for it since the summer and I've brought in the help of my friend and nutritionist Penny Wilson to fix the problem that took me out of the race last year. I have two great pacers lined up this time and I believe this is the time I get the finisher's buckle.

I guess we'll find out.