Life has a funny way sometimes of making sure you're on your toes, keeping you guessing I suppose some might say. The last time I wrote I had just lost my job at General Dynamics, along with about 50 to 100 other good people. In my case I had two weeks notice from management, so on October 8th I reported to Human Resources and turned in my badge, Blackberry, and computer. I hadn't been in the building since receiving my pink slip (mine was white, actually) and I think I observed in my last post that I wasn't really missing the place; the people yes, but the work, no.
That afternoon was a beautiful Fall day in Vermont - clear, fresh, cool. I hopped on my Parlee TT and headed south for a ride. I wasn't going anywhere particular, nor was I trying to go fast. I let my intuition select the route for me, piecing together a ride that went down Spear Street with it's views of Lake Champlain and the Adirondacks on the northern stretch, and of the Green Mountains (who's flanks were the quintessential autumn colors) on the southern stretch. I rode into Charlotte, turned east towards Hinesburg, and came back via Shelburne on Dorset Street.
On the outbound portion I stopped for a minute or two to adjust my seat. On the return leg I took a break on the side of the road to pee. Between the breaks and the improvised turns along the way, I made about 6 or 7 decisions that brought me to the intersection of Swift and Spear right around 5 pm that day, at exactly the same time as a blue Toyota Corolla, already dented on the passenger side very near where I hit when he plowed into me.
At the time I was struck I was moving about 25 miles per hour, so I hit hard. My left side took most of the impact and I felt as if I was moving in slow motion....until the driver jammed on his brakes and I went flying through the air. I came to rest on my back, staring up at that clear, blue autumn sky. I stayed on the ground long enough for a few rush-hour commuters who had seen the accident to park, hurry over, and dial 911.
I ascertained that I was hurt but not mortally wounded. I got up and inspected the contusions on my left arm, hand and legs; other than a finger that wouldn't work I was thankfully in one piece. My bike was not, as the seat post was snapped off. I ranked two squad cars, an ambulance, and a fire truck. It was quite a scene and I'll be honest, I was in shock. My girlfriend retrieved me, the Parlee, and the Parlee's seat; I must say, never has a warm shower felt so good, a woman's arms so comforting, or a bed so welcome.
I do like to tell stories, and I can be a little long winded getting to the point, which is the case with this post. Both the loss of my job and the bike accident placed me in a situation where I had a lot more time on my hands; time to rest, to recover, to think about our modern lives, schedules, stress, diet, exercise, and social interaction. I haven't been lying on the couch watching soap operas, or even lounging about reading, which happens to be one of my favorite past-times. No, I've been looking for work, writing, and, until the accident, continuing my triathlon training.
I think I have a good work ethic; I am disciplined in how I go about things and I tend to put all of myself into those pursuits in life that resonate with me. Nevertheless, I find that I am enjoying a slightly more leisurely schedule than the one I was used to keeping (for years!).....more downtime, less chronic stress. To be sure, not having an income is a pretty big deal to me and I have been forced to make some tough decisions about how and where I live; my COBRA health insurance alone is going to cost me $533 per month.
But the interesting thing is that I feel better, happier, more rational and grounded than I did when I was working an 8 to 5 job for a Fortune 100 company. That job came with lots of expectations about performance, schedule, behavior, interaction, and morale to name just a few. Most of these expectations are unrealistic, or at least often in conflict with the needs, health, and well-being of individuals. There is definitely a part of me that does not want to find a new job, not if it is for an organization even remotely similar in culture and values to the one I just left.
I have been using some of my new found time to research and write about our Paleolithic ancestors in terms of their lifestyle as compared to ours. Many of you know that I eat a Paleo diet and that I perceive a great deal of benefit in consuming nutrition for which I believe my body is genetically optimized. My research takes this a step further to look at other aspects of lifestyle beyond nutrition to see if there are adjustments that I can make to allow me to be healthier and happier.
One interesting finding is that our ancestors only worked an average of 10 to 15 hours per week. Think about that in the context of the average 8 to 5 job, where expectations of employers today are that workers will put in at least 40 hours a week, but generally more. When our paleolithic forbearers worked, it was hard, physical, and often dangerous. But they offset this with natural downtime during which they rested, socialized, and played. They spent significantly more time than their modern brethren interacting with their clan and neighboring groups. And they slept longer and better than we do as their norm.
Two days a week I set an alarm clock and rise early to swim with a Master's Swim group that I like; it is social in that I am with people, not swimming on my own, and this group has many great swimmers, so I have to work really hard just to chase their bubbles. The other days I have been rising with the sun, as our ancestors did, and it feels so much better to begin the day that way. I don't rush out the door; I have a bite and start the computer; I work a while and then I exercise or take a walk; often I indulge in a short mid-day nap. I haven't mastered the early to bed behavior yet, but I'm working on it.
My point is that despite being unemployed, my stress level is down and I am better and happier for it; I feel as though I am more the person I am meant to be. This has led to me considering other ways of living and making money, because I am not getting any younger and I don't think the model that corporate America has adopted is one that I want to vest myself in for the balance of my career. Like the nutritional aspect of our genetic makeup, I believe that we also evolved genetically for a certain ways of living; the modern world with its pressures, stress, and demands on our attention is in direct conflict with the kind of environment the human body and mind evolved in over hundreds of thousands of years.
I don't have all the answers yet; I am simply doing a lot of pondering. But I can tell you that I will be writing more about lifestyle in the future, about work, sleep, stress, movement, and connecting deeply to other people. I expect I'll have to get a real job again, to make ends meet, but it won't be like my last one. And, I hope as I begin this new chapter in my life that I will be able to live, love, work and train more simply and reasonably than I have up to this point.
Tuesday, October 23, 2012
Saturday, September 29, 2012
Project Reclamation
It has been a while since I've written, or at least it seems that way to me. This is probably because so much has happened recently and, while it hasn't been that many weeks from last post, to me it feels like a lifetime. There is a good news-bad news-silver lining aspect to the way life has unfolded lately.
The Muskoka 70.3 Half-Ironman race was held on September 9th in Huntsville, Ontario, Canada. I drove the 400 miles into Canada for one last attempt this season to qualify for a World Championship race. The thought was that this year's 70.3 World Championship was occurring on the same day in Las Vegas, therefore the fast guys would be there, allowing me slightly better odds of qualifying early for 2013. It was not the best executed race I've ever had, but I can report that I was successful in my qualification bid, taking 4th in my division. This is an important milestone for me and I was really happy to have finally punched that ticket.
A week later I marched down to a local tattoo studio and celebrated my Ironman Lake Placid experience with an M-dot tattoo just above my right ankle. I'm still feeling very proud of what I accomplished in Triathlon this season. It was a stretch year for me, meaning I set goals in December of 2011 that were clearly going be difficult to meet. I said I would never do an Ironman, but in 2012 I did; I also said I would never permanently mark my body with ink. However, I have scars from riding bikes, diving, rock climbing. Ironman Lake Placid left an indelible mark on my psyche and I am proud to show-off my tattoo memorializing what my mind and body went through in July.
Which brings me to the bad news. This past Monday there were layoffs at my work and I was affected. I have worked for General Dynamics for 8 years now; in general I didn't like working there, but I also believe I made some of the most important contributions of my career while working on counter-IED systems during Operation Iraqi Freedom. In any case, I am now out of work and facing a looming end to my income. This has implications for my self-esteem, where I live, what I eat, whether I can retain a triathlon coach, and my overall health and sense of well being. It has been a hard week and I thank all those who have had kind words for me during this transition. It has been interesting who has offered condolences, support, and advice.....and who have not.
I had dinner with a couple of friends on Thursday evening and they observed that I didn't seem in bad spirits. When I talked with my half-sister Teri as she was driving down the 101 in Los Angeles, she made a similar comment, pleased and surprised that I had my sense of humor and, if not glib, at least sounded positive and upbeat. Both encounters led to my trying to figure out why that might be so; the explanation, as is often the case, was staring me in right in the face.....I stopped going into work at GD this week. For months, maybe years, I have been getting up to go into work each day and I disliked both the place and the job. Often I felt saddled with a sense of failure and futility, but there was nothing I could do about it.
I may be broke sometime soon. I may be bankrupt not long after that. But at present that reality seems a small price to pay for having my life back; for being given this opportunity to reclaim control over what I do for work, how my time is spent, and what really matters to me in this world.
The Muskoka 70.3 Half-Ironman race was held on September 9th in Huntsville, Ontario, Canada. I drove the 400 miles into Canada for one last attempt this season to qualify for a World Championship race. The thought was that this year's 70.3 World Championship was occurring on the same day in Las Vegas, therefore the fast guys would be there, allowing me slightly better odds of qualifying early for 2013. It was not the best executed race I've ever had, but I can report that I was successful in my qualification bid, taking 4th in my division. This is an important milestone for me and I was really happy to have finally punched that ticket.
A week later I marched down to a local tattoo studio and celebrated my Ironman Lake Placid experience with an M-dot tattoo just above my right ankle. I'm still feeling very proud of what I accomplished in Triathlon this season. It was a stretch year for me, meaning I set goals in December of 2011 that were clearly going be difficult to meet. I said I would never do an Ironman, but in 2012 I did; I also said I would never permanently mark my body with ink. However, I have scars from riding bikes, diving, rock climbing. Ironman Lake Placid left an indelible mark on my psyche and I am proud to show-off my tattoo memorializing what my mind and body went through in July.
Which brings me to the bad news. This past Monday there were layoffs at my work and I was affected. I have worked for General Dynamics for 8 years now; in general I didn't like working there, but I also believe I made some of the most important contributions of my career while working on counter-IED systems during Operation Iraqi Freedom. In any case, I am now out of work and facing a looming end to my income. This has implications for my self-esteem, where I live, what I eat, whether I can retain a triathlon coach, and my overall health and sense of well being. It has been a hard week and I thank all those who have had kind words for me during this transition. It has been interesting who has offered condolences, support, and advice.....and who have not.
I had dinner with a couple of friends on Thursday evening and they observed that I didn't seem in bad spirits. When I talked with my half-sister Teri as she was driving down the 101 in Los Angeles, she made a similar comment, pleased and surprised that I had my sense of humor and, if not glib, at least sounded positive and upbeat. Both encounters led to my trying to figure out why that might be so; the explanation, as is often the case, was staring me in right in the face.....I stopped going into work at GD this week. For months, maybe years, I have been getting up to go into work each day and I disliked both the place and the job. Often I felt saddled with a sense of failure and futility, but there was nothing I could do about it.
I may be broke sometime soon. I may be bankrupt not long after that. But at present that reality seems a small price to pay for having my life back; for being given this opportunity to reclaim control over what I do for work, how my time is spent, and what really matters to me in this world.
Friday, August 24, 2012
Outcome Of Change and Trepidation
About a month ago I wrote a post titled Of Change and Trepidation, which talked about my anxiety and fears regarding my impending participation in my first full ironman, my move to a new home after 12 years and many memories in my previous home, and a planned journey West to attend my 30th High School Reunion. As a good friend pointed out, these three events to some extent represent the intersection at a point in time of my past, present and future; A unique moment in my life and, despite my trepidation, these events have fundamentally changed me, altering my internal compass and reorienting my energy as well as my perception of my place in the universe.
Since writing Of Change and Trepidation I have completed Ironman Lake Placid, recovered for 3 weeks, and, this last weekend, raced in the USA Triathlon Age Group Olympic Distance National Championships. From a multi sport perspective this was a tricky feat to pull off and at both events I delivered solid races. At IMLP I was worried because it was uncharted territory. I had never done a mass start swim of that magnitude, nor had I ever run 26.2 miles. The swim start was chaotic and scary, but I had a plan and it was a good one. I listened to those more experienced than I, and that made all the difference. I had hoped to swim the 2.4 miles in about an hour. My race time was almost exactly 60 minutes. The race was not without its difficulties, frustrations, and pain....but I made it through all of that, which is part of the journey when you undertake an ultra-endurance event. I finished in 10:37, 94th out of 2800+ participants and 12th in my age group.
My goal had been a little faster time and a qualification to the Kona Ironman 2012, and I got close......close enough to convince me I can do it and should give it another try in the future. Completing IMLP left me exhausted, but with a renewed sense of confidence in myself to survive, to reach for success despite pain and setbacks, to look at my psychological and emotional state in terms of the tough moments encountered during an ironman where patience, focus, and toughness help you to persevere and keep going when you feel like stopping and giving up.
I carried this renewed confidence into my move, which happened to coincide with record high temperatures and humidity in the Northeast. I still haven't finished unpacking, I still haven't found a roommate, but I love my new home. The space appeals to me and it is new.....it does not carry with it the memories that my old home is steeped in.......I feel freer and happier in this new space, and when I relax on the back deck or wake to the morning light shining on Lake Champlain, I am flooded with brief sense of peace and serenity. I also am enjoying being downtown. I walk to the grocery store and lug my week's worth of food back home. I walk to breakfast on Sunday morning, Farmer's Market on Saturday, tea at Dobra Teahouse with my daughter, yoga with Malaika at Burlington Yoga. I talk to my neighbors and say hi to other walkers, and I feel a part of the town, of my neighborhood in a way that I never did in 12 years of condominium living in the suburbs. I miss a few conveniences of my old home, and I miss seeing my daughter Nicole on a daily basis, but despite that I think this change of residence has been good for me and has added dimensions to my life; it has helped open me to new possibilities.
A few days after the last of my possessions were dumped unceremoniously in the den of my new apartment, I boarded a plane that would take me from Burlington to San Diego, with a stopover in Chicago. My flight from Chicago to San Diego was cancelled and I spent a long, frustrating afternoon and evening in O'Hare wondering if I should just book a flight back to Vermont and the soothing respite of my own bed. I eventually got on a plane going west and as we few over San Diego just prior to final approach it occurred to me that the entire population of Vermont is only a fraction of the population of the greater San Diego metropolitan area.
I had a busy several days in Southern California, visiting old friends, attending my high school reunion, and also reuniting with my family. I thank Cindy Stigall for ferrying me about from place to place during my visit and Jennifer Mort for giving me a ride to the reunion, allowing me to meet her 23 year old daughter Audrey (the oldest of seven of Jennifer's children, yes, seven!), and for encouraging me to put my fears aside and make this journey in the first place. I also thank my mom and her husband Gil for hosting me, and my whole family for welcoming me and reminding me that I am special and I am loved, even when the rest of the world leaves me feeling insignificant.
I graduated with 603 other people in 1982 from Hemet High School. Only about 60 of these folks came to our 30th reunion, and I admit that I did not know most of them. I spent the evening at a table with a few people that I did know and I enjoyed talking and reminiscing about the old days. Our class had 5 honor graduates (valedictorians) and three of us were at that table. I've known Jennifer since the 5th grade and we were good friends in high school. Stacey Schilling was at the reunion, and while she and I were never close, I think we go back as far as kindergarten. Liz Rollman was there and I remember her nearly as far back as Stacey.
In a sense the reunion itself was anticlimactic because none of my buddies were there, no arch-enemies made an appearance, no ex-girlfriends came. It ended up being a relaxing, fun, unremarkable evening. For me the trip was worth it just to spend time with Jennifer, her daughter, and her mom Joyce; with Cindy; and with my family. I took my nephew shopping for shoes and a backpack to go back to school with......Zacharie didn't remember me from my last visit, and it effected me to know that and to start over with him. The same was true of my nieces, who have grown up not knowing me or my daughters.
As Cindy drove me to the airport for my flight back, I was overwhelmed with a sense of connection that has been missing in my life. It was bittersweet coming back to Vermont. A part of me wanted to stay in Southern California where I poignantly felt these connections to place and to people that I love, where affirmation of who and what I am seems to flow in a way that at best has been tenuous in Vermont. And yet, Vermont is beautiful and it has been home for many years now. It is where my life has centered.
In the few weeks that I have been back, I have stayed in touch with Cindy, Jennifer, and my family. I also feel more connected to those around me in Vermont....at work, with my daughters, in my triathlon circles, and friends like Hugh Marble, Kathryn Budnik, and Sarah Burroughs. And as I have opened, or maybe as I have been opened by the events and experiences of the last month, I find I have a greater capacity for connection, a willingness to grow in this area where for so long I have only felt isolation.
I can't explain it, which is hard for a writer, but feeling trepidation, going through change, reconciling my past so that it has a more active role in my present and future, have all worked a magic on me and I feel an energy and optimism about that I have never felt before, some days lately it is hard to contain.
And that is an outcome that I did not see coming.
Since writing Of Change and Trepidation I have completed Ironman Lake Placid, recovered for 3 weeks, and, this last weekend, raced in the USA Triathlon Age Group Olympic Distance National Championships. From a multi sport perspective this was a tricky feat to pull off and at both events I delivered solid races. At IMLP I was worried because it was uncharted territory. I had never done a mass start swim of that magnitude, nor had I ever run 26.2 miles. The swim start was chaotic and scary, but I had a plan and it was a good one. I listened to those more experienced than I, and that made all the difference. I had hoped to swim the 2.4 miles in about an hour. My race time was almost exactly 60 minutes. The race was not without its difficulties, frustrations, and pain....but I made it through all of that, which is part of the journey when you undertake an ultra-endurance event. I finished in 10:37, 94th out of 2800+ participants and 12th in my age group.
My goal had been a little faster time and a qualification to the Kona Ironman 2012, and I got close......close enough to convince me I can do it and should give it another try in the future. Completing IMLP left me exhausted, but with a renewed sense of confidence in myself to survive, to reach for success despite pain and setbacks, to look at my psychological and emotional state in terms of the tough moments encountered during an ironman where patience, focus, and toughness help you to persevere and keep going when you feel like stopping and giving up.
I carried this renewed confidence into my move, which happened to coincide with record high temperatures and humidity in the Northeast. I still haven't finished unpacking, I still haven't found a roommate, but I love my new home. The space appeals to me and it is new.....it does not carry with it the memories that my old home is steeped in.......I feel freer and happier in this new space, and when I relax on the back deck or wake to the morning light shining on Lake Champlain, I am flooded with brief sense of peace and serenity. I also am enjoying being downtown. I walk to the grocery store and lug my week's worth of food back home. I walk to breakfast on Sunday morning, Farmer's Market on Saturday, tea at Dobra Teahouse with my daughter, yoga with Malaika at Burlington Yoga. I talk to my neighbors and say hi to other walkers, and I feel a part of the town, of my neighborhood in a way that I never did in 12 years of condominium living in the suburbs. I miss a few conveniences of my old home, and I miss seeing my daughter Nicole on a daily basis, but despite that I think this change of residence has been good for me and has added dimensions to my life; it has helped open me to new possibilities.
 |
| Evening view from my new back porch |
A few days after the last of my possessions were dumped unceremoniously in the den of my new apartment, I boarded a plane that would take me from Burlington to San Diego, with a stopover in Chicago. My flight from Chicago to San Diego was cancelled and I spent a long, frustrating afternoon and evening in O'Hare wondering if I should just book a flight back to Vermont and the soothing respite of my own bed. I eventually got on a plane going west and as we few over San Diego just prior to final approach it occurred to me that the entire population of Vermont is only a fraction of the population of the greater San Diego metropolitan area.
I had a busy several days in Southern California, visiting old friends, attending my high school reunion, and also reuniting with my family. I thank Cindy Stigall for ferrying me about from place to place during my visit and Jennifer Mort for giving me a ride to the reunion, allowing me to meet her 23 year old daughter Audrey (the oldest of seven of Jennifer's children, yes, seven!), and for encouraging me to put my fears aside and make this journey in the first place. I also thank my mom and her husband Gil for hosting me, and my whole family for welcoming me and reminding me that I am special and I am loved, even when the rest of the world leaves me feeling insignificant.
I graduated with 603 other people in 1982 from Hemet High School. Only about 60 of these folks came to our 30th reunion, and I admit that I did not know most of them. I spent the evening at a table with a few people that I did know and I enjoyed talking and reminiscing about the old days. Our class had 5 honor graduates (valedictorians) and three of us were at that table. I've known Jennifer since the 5th grade and we were good friends in high school. Stacey Schilling was at the reunion, and while she and I were never close, I think we go back as far as kindergarten. Liz Rollman was there and I remember her nearly as far back as Stacey.
 |
| With Jennifer and Stacey after the reunion |
In a sense the reunion itself was anticlimactic because none of my buddies were there, no arch-enemies made an appearance, no ex-girlfriends came. It ended up being a relaxing, fun, unremarkable evening. For me the trip was worth it just to spend time with Jennifer, her daughter, and her mom Joyce; with Cindy; and with my family. I took my nephew shopping for shoes and a backpack to go back to school with......Zacharie didn't remember me from my last visit, and it effected me to know that and to start over with him. The same was true of my nieces, who have grown up not knowing me or my daughters.
As Cindy drove me to the airport for my flight back, I was overwhelmed with a sense of connection that has been missing in my life. It was bittersweet coming back to Vermont. A part of me wanted to stay in Southern California where I poignantly felt these connections to place and to people that I love, where affirmation of who and what I am seems to flow in a way that at best has been tenuous in Vermont. And yet, Vermont is beautiful and it has been home for many years now. It is where my life has centered.
In the few weeks that I have been back, I have stayed in touch with Cindy, Jennifer, and my family. I also feel more connected to those around me in Vermont....at work, with my daughters, in my triathlon circles, and friends like Hugh Marble, Kathryn Budnik, and Sarah Burroughs. And as I have opened, or maybe as I have been opened by the events and experiences of the last month, I find I have a greater capacity for connection, a willingness to grow in this area where for so long I have only felt isolation.
I can't explain it, which is hard for a writer, but feeling trepidation, going through change, reconciling my past so that it has a more active role in my present and future, have all worked a magic on me and I feel an energy and optimism about that I have never felt before, some days lately it is hard to contain.
And that is an outcome that I did not see coming.
Saturday, July 28, 2012
Lake Placid Ironman 2012
The second race of my 2012 triathlon season was Ironman Lake Placid on Sunday, July 22. It was a day of many firsts for me: my first full Ironman after having raced six half-ironman events, my first mass swim start, my first complete marathon, my first drafting penalty on the bike, my first time to ever pee while running, and my first hug from Coach Kurt Perham! It was also a hard day for many athletes, including my friend Mary Holt-Wilson who struggled mentally during her 5th Ironman, and my friend and sometimes training partner Gary Snow, who did not finish the race despite being in Age Group Winning Form. More on both of these exceptional athletes later.
This is going to be a long post, so for those short on time or attention, I'll give you the results first. My goal was to finish between 10 and 11 hours, the closer to 10, the greater the probability of reaching my dream of qualifying for the Kona Ironman. Last year my age group was won with 9:58, second place was 10:07. This year it was won with 9:39 and second, third, and fourth were all under 10 hours. I finished in 10:37, 12th in my age group (out of 321 who made it through the swim) and 94th overall (out of 2,896 starters). My splits were as follows:
These are fantastic results for a first Ironman and I am satisfied that I raced to the best of my ability last Sunday. I did not leave anything out on the course. I could have finished faster by doing a few things differently, but in terms of focus, patience, and toughness (Coach's mantra) I executed well. My age group had 5 Kona slots allocated to it and only one person in the top 5 didn't claim their slot, so roll down was to 6th place at 10:14:43.
My IMLP experience started on Thursday upon arrival for check-in and a swim in Mirror Lake. I had dinner with veteran triathlete Leslie Myers, who finished 2nd in her age group and is even now beginning to prepare for her trip to Kona. Leslie and I swam together Friday morning, and again on Saturday. I appreciated her company as we made our final preparations for race day. I met her husband Geoff and ate at their rented condo right on Mirror Lake all three nights prior to the race. Leslie did most of the cooking and it was great to eat well prepared, healthy food and not have to brave restaurant fare right before a huge race.
Going into the race I would say my biggest concern was getting through the run if temperatures and/or humidity were high and my largest anxiety was surviving the mass swim start. Race day temperatures began around 60 and climbed to about 80 under partially cloudy skies; humidity was higher than I would have liked, but not oppressive. Mirror Lake was 74 degree, wetsuit legal. Overall a great day for racing but with heat high enough to require some adjustment in pace and fluid intake.
Leslie and I talked a lot about where to start the swim. Mirror Lake is not a large body of water and the area where we start is quite small to accommodate 2800+ swimmers all trying to start at the same time. Based on our practice swims we strategized that it would be best to start near the dock and then take an inside line on the course, which is a very long rectangle. You swim the course twice, exiting the water midway through, crossing the timing mats to record your split and then re-entering the lake to swim your second lap.
So on race morning I woke at 3:45 AM, ate a 600 calorie breakfast, dressed and was in the transition area by 5:30. I set-up my bike by pumping the tires, getting fluids into my bottles, and placing race nutrition in my "Bento Box". I checked everything over and said hi to the legendary Mike Reilly, who was making announcements right next to my transition spot. I checked my Bike and Run bags that contained all the gear I would don during my two transitions, walked out to drop-off my special needs bags, which can have anything in them that you might want halfway through the bike and halfway through the run. Then I got into my wetsuit and warmed up. This photo was taken right before entering the corral, crossing the timing mats, and starting my swim warm up. Thank you Nicole and James for helping me get ready and keep my nerves in check.
I swam back and forth in the small bay behind the starting line until my lats had loosened up a little. Then I made my way through all of the swimmers already treading water 15 people or so deep, in a line that stretched all the way across the lake. I found Leslie near the dock as planned and when the gun went off we sprinted like hell for the inside of the first buoy.
There are a couple of more things I need to write about. First, the volunteers on the course were tremendous. I do not know how many of them there are, but their dedication and help make the race possible for the athletes. They help in so many ways and I especially appreciated the woman who "caught" me at the finish and supported me as I began to recover, as well as this volunteer below who took my bike and racked it for me.
Special thanks go to my daughter Nicole and her boyfriend James McAvoy for being there to support me, but also to be pit crew and photographers. They made it fun, helped keep my nerves from getting the better of me, and retrieved all of my gear after the race as I was in no condition to do anything; I could barely walk. I love you both.
I have to thank Jennifer O'Connor of Sustainable Wellness Massage and everyone at Green Mountain Rehab and Sports medicine. These people are first rate healers and they helped me nurse my body through the difficult training regimen. I could not have reached the starting line, let alone the finish line without them. In the same vein, I thank Malaika DosRemedios at Burlington Yoga for helping me with my physical and spiritual flexibility, strength, and most of all balance.
Thank you to Gary Snow and Chris Coffey. Both guys helped to fuel my dream, trained with me, and educated me. Gary did not finish the race, but his insight into triathlon and IMLP were instrumental in preparing me for the race. Chris' enthusiasm and willingness to drive over and cheer us on meant a great deal to me.
Finally, thank you to Kurt Perham of Personal Best Multisport Coaching for his willingness to work with me; he is knowledgeable, passionate, and motivating for me. I especially appreciate his ability to adapt to my schedule and issues, and to encourage me through the tough times, in training and in life. I am certain that there are very few coaches in the world who could have turned my dearth of talent and durability into an Ironman. My accomplishment is his as well.
Lastly, to Mary Holt-Wilson. You have quickly become a good friend and I want you to know that no matter the results on the race course, regardless of how you felt or now feel about racing, I and many others hold you dear to our hearts and respect your record and your guidance. Recover, heal, and join us out there again soon because we miss you. You may have felt that the hunger for the finish faded this year, but when I saw you on the course you looked great and you, like myself and about 2600 athletes this year, are an Ironman. Congratulations Mary.
 |
| IMLP 2012 |
This is going to be a long post, so for those short on time or attention, I'll give you the results first. My goal was to finish between 10 and 11 hours, the closer to 10, the greater the probability of reaching my dream of qualifying for the Kona Ironman. Last year my age group was won with 9:58, second place was 10:07. This year it was won with 9:39 and second, third, and fourth were all under 10 hours. I finished in 10:37, 12th in my age group (out of 321 who made it through the swim) and 94th overall (out of 2,896 starters). My splits were as follows:
These are fantastic results for a first Ironman and I am satisfied that I raced to the best of my ability last Sunday. I did not leave anything out on the course. I could have finished faster by doing a few things differently, but in terms of focus, patience, and toughness (Coach's mantra) I executed well. My age group had 5 Kona slots allocated to it and only one person in the top 5 didn't claim their slot, so roll down was to 6th place at 10:14:43.
My IMLP experience started on Thursday upon arrival for check-in and a swim in Mirror Lake. I had dinner with veteran triathlete Leslie Myers, who finished 2nd in her age group and is even now beginning to prepare for her trip to Kona. Leslie and I swam together Friday morning, and again on Saturday. I appreciated her company as we made our final preparations for race day. I met her husband Geoff and ate at their rented condo right on Mirror Lake all three nights prior to the race. Leslie did most of the cooking and it was great to eat well prepared, healthy food and not have to brave restaurant fare right before a huge race.
Going into the race I would say my biggest concern was getting through the run if temperatures and/or humidity were high and my largest anxiety was surviving the mass swim start. Race day temperatures began around 60 and climbed to about 80 under partially cloudy skies; humidity was higher than I would have liked, but not oppressive. Mirror Lake was 74 degree, wetsuit legal. Overall a great day for racing but with heat high enough to require some adjustment in pace and fluid intake.
Leslie and I talked a lot about where to start the swim. Mirror Lake is not a large body of water and the area where we start is quite small to accommodate 2800+ swimmers all trying to start at the same time. Based on our practice swims we strategized that it would be best to start near the dock and then take an inside line on the course, which is a very long rectangle. You swim the course twice, exiting the water midway through, crossing the timing mats to record your split and then re-entering the lake to swim your second lap.
So on race morning I woke at 3:45 AM, ate a 600 calorie breakfast, dressed and was in the transition area by 5:30. I set-up my bike by pumping the tires, getting fluids into my bottles, and placing race nutrition in my "Bento Box". I checked everything over and said hi to the legendary Mike Reilly, who was making announcements right next to my transition spot. I checked my Bike and Run bags that contained all the gear I would don during my two transitions, walked out to drop-off my special needs bags, which can have anything in them that you might want halfway through the bike and halfway through the run. Then I got into my wetsuit and warmed up. This photo was taken right before entering the corral, crossing the timing mats, and starting my swim warm up. Thank you Nicole and James for helping me get ready and keep my nerves in check.
I swam back and forth in the small bay behind the starting line until my lats had loosened up a little. Then I made my way through all of the swimmers already treading water 15 people or so deep, in a line that stretched all the way across the lake. I found Leslie near the dock as planned and when the gun went off we sprinted like hell for the inside of the first buoy.
 |
| 2012 LPIM: Mirror Lake seconds before swim start |
There was a bit of jostling, but I had a clean start, no worse than any wave start at a big Olympic or Half-Ironman event. I cleared the first buoy and then began to focus on my stroke and staying on the feet in front of me. Near the turnaround I had to swing across the buoy line in order to go around the end of the course, and then right back in to the inside line. I didn't have clear water, there were people on both sides of me, but we were moving fast and the rhythm was pretty good given how many good swimmers there were in the water. All those swimmers moving together creates a current and you can feel it pulling you along.
 |
| IMLP 2012: The Swim Start |
 |
| IMLP 2012: 23 minutes into the swim |
As I approached the beach to conclude the first lap, there began to be a great deal more contact, arm hooking, and people swimming into me on an angle; everyone was jostling to get position to exit the water. I hit the sand and started to jog. My first lap time was 28:33, a perfect start to the swim. However, as I re-entered the water my left hamstring cramped. I had to pause for at least a minute to work out the cramp. As soon as I was back in the water it grabbed again. I stretched a moment and then started swimming. The muscle was still contracted, but all I could think was that I needed to keep moving. After I passed the first buoy it relaxed and I had open water to swim. I focused on form, turnover, and breathing well. The second lap flew by.....it was slower than the first at 32+ minutes, but when I exited the water the clock read 1:00 hour.....right on target.
 |
| IMLP 2012: Running the gauntlet to T1 |
I undid my wetsuit and stripped it to my waist, then threw myself to the ground to allow the wetsuit removers to yank it off of my legs. After that I was up and jogging. It is about a 1/4 mile to the transition area, maybe even a bit more. I grabbed my bag, put on all my gear, and ran another 1/4 mile to my bike. Then I was rolling. The anxiety melted away and I focused on riding to my power goals, staying low and aerodynamic when I could, and taking in my nutrition.
Technically speaking my bike goal was to target around 180 watts instantaneous power, with a limit of 250 watts on the climbs, 235 on climbs longer than 5 minutes, and coasting whenever speed was above 30 mph. To achieve this and save my legs as much as possible, I try to maintain a cadence above 90 rpm. This is possible on all but the steepest sections of the course. I occasionally rise off the seat and ride standing to stretch my back and relieve pressure on the groin, but the remainder of the time I am as low and slip streamed as possible.
 |
| IMLP 2012: Bike nearing T2 |
The bike course climbs out of Lake Placid to an area where I used to rock climb, called Pitchoff. From there follows a long, steep descent to the town of Keene. On the first lap I hit a top speed of 51.8 mph going down to Keene. From there the course is fairly flat out to mile 36. It was on the out and back leg of this section that I saw Gary Snow. He was wearing the green polka-dot jersey of Green Mountain Rehab and Sports Medicine, which sponsors both Gary and I. We are both lucky to have their support and they were instrumental in keeping me healthy and getting me to the starting line ready to race. Gary was flying on the return portion of the out and back; after a 55 minute swim it looked like he was in the mix with some of the pros, riding strong in about the top 20 overall.
I made the turnaround and headed back toward the Hamlet of Jay, mentally preparing for the long climb back to Lake Placid. I came into a small group of riders and as I passed the last guy in line, another guy passed me. Before I had time to react the course referee pulled alongside on a motorcycle and held a red card up. He told me I was drafting and to report to the next penalty tent for a 4 minute timeout. I was horrified. I dropped back, collected myself, and then started riding with focus again. I finished the first lap right on target at 2 hours, 46 minutes. I ripped into the next lap knowing I was going to lose 4 minutes in a penalty tent before I was done.
On the climb out of Lake Placid headed back to Pitchoff I came to an intersection where race support vehicles and New York State Troopers were stationed. Prone on the ground was an athlete, a bike nearby, a small shade erected to keep the sun off his face and trooper standing over him. The athlete was wearing a green polka-dot jersey. I was shaken. I yelled to Gary but got no response. I kept going, muttering to myself the whole time about what could have happened. Within a couple of minutes an ambulance roared past me, sirens wailing. Another few minutes and a helicopter flew low overhead, following the road back to where Gary lay. By then I was nearly up the climb but I was pretty freaked-out. I later found out the helicopter was a coincidence, Gary was taken by ambulance back to the medical tent, given an IV and later released. He couldn't continue the race and is still having tests done to figure out why his energy and ability to concentrate was so severely debilitated during the race that he literally coasted to a stop on his bike and collapsed, unresponsive to attempts to communicate with him.
I continued my ride, served my penalty, and completed the second lap for a final bike time of 5:43:43. I was hoping for 5:30, so I was off pace a little bit, even accounting for the 4 minute penalty, but I wasn't way off, which was encouraging. I was 17th in my division after the swim, falling back to 22nd after the bike. Overall I was 171st after the swim, but moved up to 150th by the conclusion of the bike. Below is my bike file from training peaks showing cadence, power output, and speed. I put out an average of about 170 watts and average speed just under 20 mph.
 |
| IMLP 2012: Entering T2 |
 |
| IMLP 2012: Training Peaks Bike File |
By the time I started on the run I had been racing for almost 7 hours. I felt pretty good, but it was the hottest part of the day. I entered the run course carrying a fuel belt with 2 bottles of EFS and shooting to go 8 minutes per mile for 26 miles plus or minus a few. I turned the first corner and headed down the hill......and my left hamstring cramped. After trying to stretch it, massage it, shake it, and grimace it away, I proceeded to turn around and walk down the hill backwards. After 10 or 15 yards I was able to get the contraction to release and I started to jog, then run, and pretty soon I was cruising along normally. I saw Coach Kurt and my friend Chris Coffey after a couple of miles and was glad for their encouragement. The turnaround is at about the 5 mile point and as I made my way out there the heat began to weigh on me. The EFS did not sit well when I drank it, so I started taking the Power Bar Perform from the aid stations and dumping ice down my top to keep cool. Many people were walking on the course, but I was running well......a little slower than planned, but acceptable. After the turnaround my right hamstring cramped. I knew the drill by then, worked it out, and kept running.
 |
| IMLP 2012: 2nd lap on the marathon |
That was really my mantra for the rest of the marathon, keep running. However, at every aid station I stopped and walked to take in Perform, water, and to get ice. This resulted in an eroded average pace. On the first lap of the run I was able to gain some of those losses back by running a little harder between aid stations, but on the second lap this just wasn't possible. There are two nasty hills going back into town. On both laps there were long lines of people walking these hills. I refused to stop, and while I didn't run fast, I did run those hills. By keeping my feet moving with little steps I ran by a lot of people.
I saw my daughter Nicole and her boyfriend James at Special Needs halfway through the marathon. I took some nutrition from my bag, but seeing them was much better satisfaction of my "special needs" at that point. I headed out for the second lap hot, but confident. I ran well out to the turnaround, but my legs started to hurt in the quads and calves at that point. When I had passed mile 2 on the course it felt like I had a huge mountain before me to climb. At mile 22 I felt exactly the same way even though it was only 4 miles to the finish. People were walking or stopping entirely all along the course. I saw my friend Tyler Sperry weaving as he walked down the road.
At mile 24 I saw my coach again and told him how much everything hurt. He told me to ignore it and take it home, to pass every runner I could on the way back into town. And I did. Going up the last big hill I saw a guy from my age group who'd passed me earlier. He was walking. I so badly wanted to walk too, but I didn't. I kept running, I don't know how, and I passed him. Then I actually lengthened my stride and ran the last 1.5 miles to the finish at around 7:30 minutes per mile pace. My Training Peaks run file is shown below. Note the downward spikes in the blue graph that indicate where I stopped to walk through each aid station.
IMLP was the hardest race I have ever done. But I crossed the line alone to the voice of Mike Reilly, like so many before me, saying "Marc Meredyth, you ARE an Ironman". I cannot convey the rush of emotion I felt at having achieved what once upon a time I thought I would never accomplish. During the run I passed 10 athletes in my division to move from 22nd to 12th. In terms of the overall standings, I moved from 150th to 94th. My marathon time of 3:44 was not very fast, but conditions were tough and I persevered.
I saw my daughter Nicole and her boyfriend James at Special Needs halfway through the marathon. I took some nutrition from my bag, but seeing them was much better satisfaction of my "special needs" at that point. I headed out for the second lap hot, but confident. I ran well out to the turnaround, but my legs started to hurt in the quads and calves at that point. When I had passed mile 2 on the course it felt like I had a huge mountain before me to climb. At mile 22 I felt exactly the same way even though it was only 4 miles to the finish. People were walking or stopping entirely all along the course. I saw my friend Tyler Sperry weaving as he walked down the road.
At mile 24 I saw my coach again and told him how much everything hurt. He told me to ignore it and take it home, to pass every runner I could on the way back into town. And I did. Going up the last big hill I saw a guy from my age group who'd passed me earlier. He was walking. I so badly wanted to walk too, but I didn't. I kept running, I don't know how, and I passed him. Then I actually lengthened my stride and ran the last 1.5 miles to the finish at around 7:30 minutes per mile pace. My Training Peaks run file is shown below. Note the downward spikes in the blue graph that indicate where I stopped to walk through each aid station.
IMLP was the hardest race I have ever done. But I crossed the line alone to the voice of Mike Reilly, like so many before me, saying "Marc Meredyth, you ARE an Ironman". I cannot convey the rush of emotion I felt at having achieved what once upon a time I thought I would never accomplish. During the run I passed 10 athletes in my division to move from 22nd to 12th. In terms of the overall standings, I moved from 150th to 94th. My marathon time of 3:44 was not very fast, but conditions were tough and I persevered.
There are a couple of more things I need to write about. First, the volunteers on the course were tremendous. I do not know how many of them there are, but their dedication and help make the race possible for the athletes. They help in so many ways and I especially appreciated the woman who "caught" me at the finish and supported me as I began to recover, as well as this volunteer below who took my bike and racked it for me.
 |
| IMLP 2012: Thank you volunteers! |
Special thanks go to my daughter Nicole and her boyfriend James McAvoy for being there to support me, but also to be pit crew and photographers. They made it fun, helped keep my nerves from getting the better of me, and retrieved all of my gear after the race as I was in no condition to do anything; I could barely walk. I love you both.
I have to thank Jennifer O'Connor of Sustainable Wellness Massage and everyone at Green Mountain Rehab and Sports medicine. These people are first rate healers and they helped me nurse my body through the difficult training regimen. I could not have reached the starting line, let alone the finish line without them. In the same vein, I thank Malaika DosRemedios at Burlington Yoga for helping me with my physical and spiritual flexibility, strength, and most of all balance.
Thank you to Gary Snow and Chris Coffey. Both guys helped to fuel my dream, trained with me, and educated me. Gary did not finish the race, but his insight into triathlon and IMLP were instrumental in preparing me for the race. Chris' enthusiasm and willingness to drive over and cheer us on meant a great deal to me.
Finally, thank you to Kurt Perham of Personal Best Multisport Coaching for his willingness to work with me; he is knowledgeable, passionate, and motivating for me. I especially appreciate his ability to adapt to my schedule and issues, and to encourage me through the tough times, in training and in life. I am certain that there are very few coaches in the world who could have turned my dearth of talent and durability into an Ironman. My accomplishment is his as well.
Lastly, to Mary Holt-Wilson. You have quickly become a good friend and I want you to know that no matter the results on the race course, regardless of how you felt or now feel about racing, I and many others hold you dear to our hearts and respect your record and your guidance. Recover, heal, and join us out there again soon because we miss you. You may have felt that the hunger for the finish faded this year, but when I saw you on the course you looked great and you, like myself and about 2600 athletes this year, are an Ironman. Congratulations Mary.
Sunday, July 15, 2012
Of Change and Trepidation
In the next several weeks I have three significant events occurring in my life. Each is very different, exciting, challenging, gives me reason to pause and reflect, and yes, feel anxious.
In just ten days I will race my first Ironman in Lake Placid, New York. Ten days after IMLP, I leave the condominium that I have called home for the last 12 years to move into an apartment adjacent to downtown Burlington. And then, 10 days after that, I will fly across the country to my hometown of Hemet, California to attend my 30th high school reunion.
I have been a triathlete for about 7 years now. What started as something new to try became a way to stay in shape. From there it's fair to say that it became a passion, as well as a lifestyle (Editorial Note: to be fair to those so inclined in their opinions, you can replace "passion" with "obsession"). As I matured in the sport, so too did my interest in the triathlon world beyond safe, friendly, small Vermont. I started watching the bigger races and became fascinated with the Ironman World Championship in Kona, Hawaii. At some point that fascination spawned a dream of making it to Kona myself. Not since childhood had I been bold enough to dream such a dream.
I never thought I would do a full Ironman, but I also said that about half-Ironman races and I have raced 6 of those now and become fairly competitive in my age group. That success, and the fitness that enabled it, surprised me enough to consider that my Kona Dreams might actually be possible. So last year I talked with my coach about it and decided to go for it.
When I decided to do this race last November it seemed like I had more than enough time to prepare. Now the race is next weekend and all I can do is hope I am ready. My training has gone well....I have stretched my swim distances to be able to make the 2.4 miles without difficulty. I have learned to ride Ironman watts for 5 to 6 hours, practicing patience and metering out my effort to be able to finish 112 miles of riding with enough energy to complete a marathon, and I have built up my run durability so I can run off the bike and hold my pace for a long time. I have created within my body and my mind the pieces of the puzzle necessary to complete a 140.6 mile race.
But with all the hay in the barn, as my good friend Chris Coffey says, I am left with 10 days to go and plenty of time to think. Mostly I try to think positive thoughts, to visualize the race and my success. But sometimes the mass start of the swim presents images that are less, shall we say, reinforcing. I have never started a triathlon with 2500 other athletes. All of my races have had wave starts and they are benign compared with the melee of an Ironman race start.
I know on race day when the gun goes off I'll start racing and I will enjoy the experience even as I push to make my Kona Dreams come true. It won't be easy, but 10 to 11 hours after the cannon fires, I am certain that I will cross the line and become an Ironman. It will be a proud moment for me.
I'll have 10 days to recover and pack before moving at the beginning of August. I came to South Burlington when my daughters were entering middle school and I had accepted a job at IBM. I rented a three bedroom condominium in an area close to the girl's school and an easy commute to work. A couple of years later I bought it and it has been home ever since for my girls and I. Both Marissa and Nicole are now grown and in graduate school. I don't need a three bedroom place and I decided that I'm ready to make some changes in my life. So I rented a nice top floor flat in a spot close to downtown Burlington. I have never lived in "the city" and expect it to be interesting......especially as I rented a place too expensive for me alone, requiring that I find a roommate with which to share the apartment.
I've lived with my daughters and I shared a home with my last girl friend for about 3 years. But the last time I actually had a roommate was 1986 I think. Moving is going to be hard and so is sharing space with another person I'm not related to or involved with. I lie in my bed today and look out at the trees swaying in the wind, the moon peeking between them and wonder, why am I doing this again? And I have to remind myself that it's time for a change, time for new experiences and surroundings. Like the Ironman, I don't know how it will turn out, but it's the journey that really matters, at least for me.
Assuming I succeed in dragging all of my furniture, kitchen stuff, clothing, and triathlon gear (yes, I have enough of it to include it as its own category) then I should be able to enjoy my new home until August 9th, when I will trust the airlines to fly me across the country to San Diego. From there it's a short hop to where I was born, went through grade school, and graduated from high school......Hemet High Bulldog, Class of 1982, We Stand Proud.
I don't make it back to Southern California very often, but I always enjoy going home and seeing my family. My mom is there, as well as a brother and two sisters, along with their families. Somehow the centrifuge of family dynamics flung me just a bit farther afoot. However, while I enjoy going back to Hemet to visit and see my family, this time I will be going to attend my 30th reunion. I have not gone to any of the previous reunions, so I will be seeing most of my high school classmates for the first time since the year we graduated. I can't believe it has been that long and I'll be honest, I'm terrified. I guess I always assumed I'd be successful, happy, rich, with a good wife, a loving family. It didn't really turn out that way, so going back after so long carries with it more trepidation than I expected.
I have been in touch with a few other people from my class and they have reassured me that it will be fine, that everybody has gone through life's sorrows, disappointments, and frustrations. I'm sure they are right and I thank them for being good friends; as they were then, so they are now.
Worry, fear, trepidation, angst, self doubt - these are all normal parts of life, especially when we reach to accomplish, when we go through change, and when we face our past. But for every negative thought, for every fear, for every doubt, we can recognize the feeling yet refuse to succumb to it.....we can replace those thoughts with positive images, reinforcing messages. As I embark upon the next several weeks, that is what I am going to do. I'll let you know how it all turns out.
In just ten days I will race my first Ironman in Lake Placid, New York. Ten days after IMLP, I leave the condominium that I have called home for the last 12 years to move into an apartment adjacent to downtown Burlington. And then, 10 days after that, I will fly across the country to my hometown of Hemet, California to attend my 30th high school reunion.
I have been a triathlete for about 7 years now. What started as something new to try became a way to stay in shape. From there it's fair to say that it became a passion, as well as a lifestyle (Editorial Note: to be fair to those so inclined in their opinions, you can replace "passion" with "obsession"). As I matured in the sport, so too did my interest in the triathlon world beyond safe, friendly, small Vermont. I started watching the bigger races and became fascinated with the Ironman World Championship in Kona, Hawaii. At some point that fascination spawned a dream of making it to Kona myself. Not since childhood had I been bold enough to dream such a dream.
I never thought I would do a full Ironman, but I also said that about half-Ironman races and I have raced 6 of those now and become fairly competitive in my age group. That success, and the fitness that enabled it, surprised me enough to consider that my Kona Dreams might actually be possible. So last year I talked with my coach about it and decided to go for it.
When I decided to do this race last November it seemed like I had more than enough time to prepare. Now the race is next weekend and all I can do is hope I am ready. My training has gone well....I have stretched my swim distances to be able to make the 2.4 miles without difficulty. I have learned to ride Ironman watts for 5 to 6 hours, practicing patience and metering out my effort to be able to finish 112 miles of riding with enough energy to complete a marathon, and I have built up my run durability so I can run off the bike and hold my pace for a long time. I have created within my body and my mind the pieces of the puzzle necessary to complete a 140.6 mile race.
But with all the hay in the barn, as my good friend Chris Coffey says, I am left with 10 days to go and plenty of time to think. Mostly I try to think positive thoughts, to visualize the race and my success. But sometimes the mass start of the swim presents images that are less, shall we say, reinforcing. I have never started a triathlon with 2500 other athletes. All of my races have had wave starts and they are benign compared with the melee of an Ironman race start.
I know on race day when the gun goes off I'll start racing and I will enjoy the experience even as I push to make my Kona Dreams come true. It won't be easy, but 10 to 11 hours after the cannon fires, I am certain that I will cross the line and become an Ironman. It will be a proud moment for me.
I'll have 10 days to recover and pack before moving at the beginning of August. I came to South Burlington when my daughters were entering middle school and I had accepted a job at IBM. I rented a three bedroom condominium in an area close to the girl's school and an easy commute to work. A couple of years later I bought it and it has been home ever since for my girls and I. Both Marissa and Nicole are now grown and in graduate school. I don't need a three bedroom place and I decided that I'm ready to make some changes in my life. So I rented a nice top floor flat in a spot close to downtown Burlington. I have never lived in "the city" and expect it to be interesting......especially as I rented a place too expensive for me alone, requiring that I find a roommate with which to share the apartment.
I've lived with my daughters and I shared a home with my last girl friend for about 3 years. But the last time I actually had a roommate was 1986 I think. Moving is going to be hard and so is sharing space with another person I'm not related to or involved with. I lie in my bed today and look out at the trees swaying in the wind, the moon peeking between them and wonder, why am I doing this again? And I have to remind myself that it's time for a change, time for new experiences and surroundings. Like the Ironman, I don't know how it will turn out, but it's the journey that really matters, at least for me.
Assuming I succeed in dragging all of my furniture, kitchen stuff, clothing, and triathlon gear (yes, I have enough of it to include it as its own category) then I should be able to enjoy my new home until August 9th, when I will trust the airlines to fly me across the country to San Diego. From there it's a short hop to where I was born, went through grade school, and graduated from high school......Hemet High Bulldog, Class of 1982, We Stand Proud.
I don't make it back to Southern California very often, but I always enjoy going home and seeing my family. My mom is there, as well as a brother and two sisters, along with their families. Somehow the centrifuge of family dynamics flung me just a bit farther afoot. However, while I enjoy going back to Hemet to visit and see my family, this time I will be going to attend my 30th reunion. I have not gone to any of the previous reunions, so I will be seeing most of my high school classmates for the first time since the year we graduated. I can't believe it has been that long and I'll be honest, I'm terrified. I guess I always assumed I'd be successful, happy, rich, with a good wife, a loving family. It didn't really turn out that way, so going back after so long carries with it more trepidation than I expected.
I have been in touch with a few other people from my class and they have reassured me that it will be fine, that everybody has gone through life's sorrows, disappointments, and frustrations. I'm sure they are right and I thank them for being good friends; as they were then, so they are now.
Worry, fear, trepidation, angst, self doubt - these are all normal parts of life, especially when we reach to accomplish, when we go through change, and when we face our past. But for every negative thought, for every fear, for every doubt, we can recognize the feeling yet refuse to succumb to it.....we can replace those thoughts with positive images, reinforcing messages. As I embark upon the next several weeks, that is what I am going to do. I'll let you know how it all turns out.
Tuesday, June 26, 2012
Triathlon: What a Coach Can Do For You
I competed in my first triathlon in 2005. It was a local sprint event in Colchester, Vermont. At the time I was a serious rock climber; I used swimming and running to stay in shape, but my sport was about pushing vertical limits. I also sea kayaked a fair amount because it was more social and it rains a lot in the Northeast......the crags are not safe to climb when they're wet, but paddling in wet weather is no problem at all.
In the summer of 2005 I injured my back and couldn't climb for a while. I found that swimming didn't aggravate my injury, nor did riding my mountain bike. While I was recuperating an acquaintance, Rayne Herzog at the Shelburne Athletic Club, asked me to paddle my kayak at a Sprint Triathlon held in Shelburne, Vermont. This race venue at Shelburne Beach is a beautiful place to compete in a triathlon and has become one of my favorite places to train, as well as to relax in good company while drinking wine, enjoying good food, and watching the sun set over the Adirondack Mountains and Lake Champlain.
I had never seen a triathlon before and it was a great experience to paddle with the racers, giving aid when necessary, and then, after the last swimmer exited the water, move to Transition to guide bikers to dismount at the line for their T2 and then direct them on to the run course. Basically at that point I was hooked. I volunteered to work at the next couple of races and I studied what the top competitors did......I also started shopping for a road bike.
I decided I needed two things, better data and someone to help me interpret that data. I bought a Garmin Forerunner 310XT GPS watch and a Garmin Edge 705 bike computer so I would have accurate running pace, bike speed, and distance travelled available to me while training. The big investment, however, was in an SRM Power Meter so I would have unequivocal data of my output on the bike.
Technology accounted for, I began to shop for a coach. I wanted someone based in the Northeast so we could actually meet from time to time. I also wanted a coach that used the latest tools, namely power based data on the bike and Training Peaks or similar for delivery of workouts and review of data. I did phone interviews with several prospects and selected Kurt Perham at Personal Best Multisport Coaching (www.pbmcoaching.com). I chose Kurt because he uses the tools mentioned above, doesn't impose contact limits, is flexible regarding workouts and changing schedules, and he is experienced as both competitor and coach.
I hired Kurt to coach me in the Fall of 2009, and since that time I have steadily improved in terms of my fitness, my maturity as an athlete, and my performance. I haven't always met my goals or raced as well as I expected, but in every race I have completed since starting to work with Kurt, I have improved, and in most of these races I set personal bests in one or more disciplines. I turned 48 this year and I have been a life-long athlete. Nevertheless, in the last 12 months I have run faster at every distance I have attempted than I have ever run in my life. I am seeing similar gains in the water and on the bike, although I have less competitive history to draw upon in those realms. In 2011 I finished 5th at the Providence 70.3, qualified for Age Group Nationals, and earned All-American Honors from USA Triathlon. I was nationally ranked for the first time at 165th in the Mens 45-49 division.
I don't know all of the data that Kurt looks at, but I know he pays attention to the composite fitness index developed by Hunter Allen and Andrew Coggan, PhD called a Performance Management Chart, or PMC for short. You can learn more about this chart and the data / calculations that go into it on the TrainingPeaks website (http://home.trainingpeaks.com/articles/cycling/what-is-the-performance-management-chart.aspx) (http://home.trainingpeaks.com/articles/triathlon/fitness,-fatigue-and-form.aspx), as well as from Joe Friel's The Training Bible book series.
I will summarize briefly and if I mess it up, I'm sure someone will let me know. The PMC represents three aspects of training: fatigue, fitness, and race readiness.
Fatigue is technically referred to as Acute Training Load (ATL) and is a numeric representation of how hard you are training. Increased training stress from longer and/or higher intensity workouts will show as upward spikes when graphed.
Fitness comes as a result of our workouts. Referred to as Chronic Training Load (CTL), it is a numeric representation of what the hard training has yielded. ATL and CTL are complimentary, that is, hard training produces greater fitness.
Race Readiness is sometimes also know as form. It is technically referred to as Training Stress Balance (TSB) and is a numeric representation of how rested we are, a measurement of our recovery following hard training. In order to be race ready we need to recover just enough from our fatigue to be sharp, but not so much that we lose fitness. Effectively balancing rest and training stress is a knife edge when it comes to fitness.
Shown below is my PMC spanning the last two years. The first third of the chart shows my first season (2010) after hiring Kurt as my coach. The blue line is my CTL, which as a reminder, represents fitness. My fitness peaked for my main race that year, the Timberman 70.3 in August. I did alright at that race, improving significantly over my first 70.3 the year before, but I was still way back in the pack, 345th overall and 33rd in my division. My off-the-bike half-marathon run time was 1:48.
 |
| Two Year Performance Management Chart |
The middle third on the chart is last season (2011) where I peaked for the Providence 70.3 in July, with a second peak for Age Group Nationals in August. These peaks, and the associated ATL, are significantly higher than in 2010. In my second year with Kurt I was able to place 88th overall and 5th in my age division at a major 70.3 event - I was on the podium! My off-the-bike half-marathon run time had decreased to 1:36. I didn't place as well at the Age Group National Championships in my hometown of Burlington, Vermont, but I did PR the 10K run and finished 28th against some of the fastest men in my division in the country, which was quite satisfying.
The final third of the chart is this season (2012). I raced Mooseman 70.3 on 3-June and didn't have the bike ride I was looking for, however, I ran off-the-bike in 1:34, which is a PR for me in a half-ironman event. To be fair, I have been focused more on getting ready for the Lake Placid Ironman. From the chart it is clear that my fitness is higher, but I may have lost too much of it for Mooseman due to an injury a few weeks prior to the race, which the chart shows as a decrease in CTL and a rise in TSB. Hopefully I am on my way to a good peak for Lake Placid next month and a faster race at Age Group Nationals in August.
This has been a long winded way of making a point, which is that I never could have made these gains in performance on my own. The chart shows clearly my improvements in fitness and I am absolutely convinced that it has been Kurt's patience with me, his knowledge of training and training tools, his well prescribed workouts, his willingness to adapt to my changing schedule and unforeseen issues, and his advice and tips on everything from race strategy to nutrition to injury treatment and recovery, that have made it possible for me to improve beyond what I thought possible.
I'm not saying such improvement can't be accomplished on your own, but I am certain that I couldn't have done it without Kurt's coaching. I think the objectivity that a coach can have versus what we as athletes perceive day in and day out during training is invaluable. So my advice to any triathlete even moderately serious about the sport is to fore go the newest bike, the latest aero this or that, and consider hiring a coach. The gains will be much more dramatic and measurable over time.
Monday, June 25, 2012
Summer Camp
When I was a kid I use to go to this summer camp in the San Jacinto mountains of California above the city of Hemet where I was born and raised. The town was called Idyllwild and it was beautiful there, mountain meadows, fir trees that smelled of vanilla, Strawberry Creek for wading, hot days for playing frsibee and swimming, cool nights for campfire songs, star gazing and roasting marshmallows, all presided over by Taquitz Rock, a several thousand foot tall spire that I would return to climb much later in life.
I loved going to camp as a boy because of how much fun it was, then as a teenager because there were cute girls there and they were interested in me too. Somehow it was different than normal life and we all played and flirted with much more abandon. I think the first time I ever made out with a girl was at Idyllwild Pines after the nightly camp fire gathering.
When my daughters reached a certain age, they went away to a 4H camp, and later to gymnastics, field hockey, and dance camps. I don't know if these made the same impression on them that my summer camping made on me, but I hope so. As a grown-up our days of summer camp are far behind us and we can only feel envious as we drop our children at Art Camp or Farm Camp or Sailing Camp.
However, last week I got to relive a little bit of my youth....I got to go to camp. On Thursday I packed up my bike and all my other triathlon gear and drove over to Lake Placid for an Ironman Lake Placid training camp put on by Trimoxie Multisport and Personal Best Multisport. The setting was absolutely breathtaking in a huge meadow a few miles outside of the town of Lake Placid, with 360 degree mountain views.
I'm not sure I know the final count, but there were about 20 of us there for camp, which started on Thursday evening with an hour swim in Mirror Lake on the Ironman course. I rode over with a few other campers, got into my wetsuit and swam two loops of the course. Unfortunately the course as laid-out was for canoe racing and was longer than the Ironman course. My two laps was probably more like 6000 yards and took me an hour and a half. When I emerged from the water, everyone was gone. I lugged my wetsuit and towel to the car, only to find it was gone too, with my phone and wallet! I trudged through town and eventually found my group on their way to dinner. So much for an auspicious start to camp.
On Friday we rode the Ironman course, 112 miles and then ran off the bike. I did a 5 mile run, others went a little longer or shorter depending on their coaches instructions. Saturday we did a timed swim on the course, had a late breakfast, then an easier ride and run than on Friday, complicate somewhat by summer thunder storms that pelted us with hail and soaked us with downpours. Camp finished Sunday with a long run on the course, the blue sky above and the Olympic ski jumps in the background.
I could bore you with the details of my rides and runs and swims, but that's not why I'm writing. I went to camp excited, but also with some trepidation about whether I would make it through the weekend. My confidence about Ironman Lake Placid has not been high lately. After spending the weekend on site with other people who's goals and training are similar to mine, and having survived the workouts my coach assigned, I can report that training camp was great for me and I have a renewed confidence that I will finish Ironman Lake Placid.
I should mention that my fellow campers were predominantly women. There were two other guys at camp and all the rest of the attendees were amazing, beautiful, accomplished, funny, talented Ironwomen. Unfortunately for me there weren't many who were single, so it wasn't like camp in my early teens, but I enjoyed the experience and their company immensely.
I think what made the deepest impression on me was just being around a group of people who came from all over, had a variety of careers and were at greatly different points in their lives, yet we all had Ironman triathlon in common. Beyond that, we all shared coaches and so our workout prescriptions and training plans were also very similar. I didn't necessarily swim, ride, or run with my fellow campers, but we were all doing the same workouts, which we planned ahead of time and discussed afterward. The common, shared experience was a serious jolt for my solitary habits and I loved it. I came back home thinking about how to have more of that kind of training and camaraderie in the future.
I would like to thank my coach Kurt Perham of Personal Best Multisport Coaching for recommending the camp and for being there to help run it, push us through the workouts, and for all the advice he gave to me and the other campers. Similarly, Mary Holt-Wilson of TriMoxie Multisport Coaching deserves a huge thank you for organizing and running this camp.
I don't know if I am truly ready for Ironman Lake Placid, but thanks to Kurt, Mary, and all my fellow campers, I am a lot more ready than I was. It wasn't like Idyllwild Pines in my youth, but I loved summer camp circa 2012 just as much, even if I didn't have the energy to play Frisbee all afternoon.
I loved going to camp as a boy because of how much fun it was, then as a teenager because there were cute girls there and they were interested in me too. Somehow it was different than normal life and we all played and flirted with much more abandon. I think the first time I ever made out with a girl was at Idyllwild Pines after the nightly camp fire gathering.
When my daughters reached a certain age, they went away to a 4H camp, and later to gymnastics, field hockey, and dance camps. I don't know if these made the same impression on them that my summer camping made on me, but I hope so. As a grown-up our days of summer camp are far behind us and we can only feel envious as we drop our children at Art Camp or Farm Camp or Sailing Camp.
However, last week I got to relive a little bit of my youth....I got to go to camp. On Thursday I packed up my bike and all my other triathlon gear and drove over to Lake Placid for an Ironman Lake Placid training camp put on by Trimoxie Multisport and Personal Best Multisport. The setting was absolutely breathtaking in a huge meadow a few miles outside of the town of Lake Placid, with 360 degree mountain views.
I'm not sure I know the final count, but there were about 20 of us there for camp, which started on Thursday evening with an hour swim in Mirror Lake on the Ironman course. I rode over with a few other campers, got into my wetsuit and swam two loops of the course. Unfortunately the course as laid-out was for canoe racing and was longer than the Ironman course. My two laps was probably more like 6000 yards and took me an hour and a half. When I emerged from the water, everyone was gone. I lugged my wetsuit and towel to the car, only to find it was gone too, with my phone and wallet! I trudged through town and eventually found my group on their way to dinner. So much for an auspicious start to camp.
On Friday we rode the Ironman course, 112 miles and then ran off the bike. I did a 5 mile run, others went a little longer or shorter depending on their coaches instructions. Saturday we did a timed swim on the course, had a late breakfast, then an easier ride and run than on Friday, complicate somewhat by summer thunder storms that pelted us with hail and soaked us with downpours. Camp finished Sunday with a long run on the course, the blue sky above and the Olympic ski jumps in the background.
I could bore you with the details of my rides and runs and swims, but that's not why I'm writing. I went to camp excited, but also with some trepidation about whether I would make it through the weekend. My confidence about Ironman Lake Placid has not been high lately. After spending the weekend on site with other people who's goals and training are similar to mine, and having survived the workouts my coach assigned, I can report that training camp was great for me and I have a renewed confidence that I will finish Ironman Lake Placid.
I should mention that my fellow campers were predominantly women. There were two other guys at camp and all the rest of the attendees were amazing, beautiful, accomplished, funny, talented Ironwomen. Unfortunately for me there weren't many who were single, so it wasn't like camp in my early teens, but I enjoyed the experience and their company immensely.
I think what made the deepest impression on me was just being around a group of people who came from all over, had a variety of careers and were at greatly different points in their lives, yet we all had Ironman triathlon in common. Beyond that, we all shared coaches and so our workout prescriptions and training plans were also very similar. I didn't necessarily swim, ride, or run with my fellow campers, but we were all doing the same workouts, which we planned ahead of time and discussed afterward. The common, shared experience was a serious jolt for my solitary habits and I loved it. I came back home thinking about how to have more of that kind of training and camaraderie in the future.
I would like to thank my coach Kurt Perham of Personal Best Multisport Coaching for recommending the camp and for being there to help run it, push us through the workouts, and for all the advice he gave to me and the other campers. Similarly, Mary Holt-Wilson of TriMoxie Multisport Coaching deserves a huge thank you for organizing and running this camp.
I don't know if I am truly ready for Ironman Lake Placid, but thanks to Kurt, Mary, and all my fellow campers, I am a lot more ready than I was. It wasn't like Idyllwild Pines in my youth, but I loved summer camp circa 2012 just as much, even if I didn't have the energy to play Frisbee all afternoon.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)