Tri RobbyB Tri :: Run, Forrest, Run!

After aquathon #3 was delayed twice due to blue-green algae blooms, aquathon #4 was upon us. My legs are tired from marathon training. The hamstrings are tight, my calf is on the verge of cramping, and my shins are a touch on the sore side. I notice Mark Harms, local triathlete extraordinaire, and instantly everyone's gunning for second. "At least I can draft off him (in the swim)," I say to myself.

SWIM
Right off the bat, and I'm behind. After a few lunges and it's me & Mark. Then it's just me. Then it's Mark & me again. Then just me. Mark was all over the place, hardly keeping a straight line. Oh well. I'll just swim by myself. I concentrate on my stroke as I tend to drop my head. Long strokes...breathe right once in a while...keep the head up...sight for the buoy..."Why isn't it getting closer?"...long strokes...so on and so forth. The wind carried the second buoy off course to make the course a touch long, and I notice (with my picked up head) the bubbles in front of me. I surge a bit to latch on Mark's wake and actually catch a draft to the turn. Then, he's gone. Way to the right. Sigh. I make my way to the transition and let some thoughts creep into my head that perhaps I'm in front? Nope. Mark comes in from the right and nips me by a few seconds.

RUN
Mark is out of transition first and I'm not too far behind. And then he's gone again. Not to the right, but right off the front. After the first turn, I couldn't see him. I commented to the volunteer at the turn, "Man, he's fast!" And she replied that he beat her to her spot. I was induced by his speed and went out too fast. At the first mile, it felt like I should be at the 2.5 mile mark. I blame the marathon training, but not necessarily unhappy with it. I laid back for the next mile, and then tried to build up the final mile. Coming down the final hill into finishing stretch, two guys pass me, but encourage me to finish with them. I pick it up, so do they. I hold my pace, they pull ahead. I finish just behind, collapsing to my knees on the timing mats.

Overall, not too bad given the lack of non-running training and crazy life this summer.Everyone concluded that the swim course was long. It was about a minute longer for me, so I was right at a PR if you take a minute off. I've got two more months before the marathon and hopefully can get all the house projects done by then.

Unknown to me, it was 85° out with a dewpoint of 68. Good conditions for a interval run -- NOT! My body told me so about four-tenths of a mile into my second of three mile intervals.

I struggled through the first one and significantly missed my scheduled pace of 6:30/mile. Immediately starting the second I felt weak. I fought off the overwhelming need to stop for only so long. I caved at 0.51 miles and rested, fighting for any breath I could manage.

And then when I convinced myself to start up again, my legs didn't respond. Empty and weak, I fought to continue running, no matter what the pace. That's when I got a touch dizzy and felt my face get flush with heat. I stopped my watch and quit the workout and started walking home, overheated and frustrated.

After I cooled down and thought about what I was doing to myself, I looked again at the training paces and corresponding marathon goal pace and realized my mind was writing checks the body simply couldn't cash. Why did I ever think that a 3:23 marathon was possible? Some day maybe, just not now.

So I'm retooling and re-timing. With a new goal and set of paces, I'll be able to meet my training times (hopefully), which keeps from getting frustrated mentally, and best yet, allow my body to see another week. I should've done it after the first week, but I blamed the blisters and not the pace. Let's hope the next 11 weeks works out.

I've found that running intervals is a bit like taking cough syrup: It sucks to do, but it's good for you in the long term.

Above is my second interval workout as tracked by my watch. It was 4x800m at 6:14 pace. Note how that red line (my hear rate) creeps upward as the workout progresses. That means it hurt.

A while ago, I decided that it would be a good idea to run a marathon. It still is a good idea, don't get me wrong. The plan is to train using the FIRST "3plus2" method. The method concentrates on three key running sessions supported by two non-impact days. The three days include: intervals, tempo runs, and a long run. The paces are all dictated on your best 5K pace, which set me up for a relatively fast training pace. So fast, that I highly doubt I can sustain it race day, but I will do my best to meet the training goals, however difficult. And words are all fine and dandy, but with the rubber hits the pavement it's a whole other story.

My first workout in the program was 3x1mile intervals at a 6:47/mi pace.(!) Halfway through the second mile, I wimped out and stopped. It surprised me how fast it took my body to shut down after my mind said "I hurt. Please stop." in a matter of a few steps, I stopped running. I rested a bit, and finished it out. The same thing happened to the final interval, but about three-fourths of the way through. By the time I was done, I had serious doubts about the rest of training. That weeks tempo was replaced by the Auqathon and now it was time for a long run. Life pushed it from Saturday to Monday evening. It went well until the end when I took my socks off to find some really nice blisters, one was a really nice bloody one.

So this whole training thing really isn't getting off to the best start. I talked with Justin at Endurance House about the blisters and he suggested using the "runner's knot." I tried with the second week's tempo run, but still got some hot spots. Guh. Back to the Endurance House for some new shoes.

So that gets me back to the chart above and what is the second interval workout since I missed it last week. This time, as hard as it got, I didn't quit. Maybe it was because of the halves, but I had some mental fortitude to finish out each one without stopping. And it paid off, too. I split 3:10, 3:07, 3:07, 3:09 for the four intervals, right on target. I gave myself a congratulatory clap and warmed down.

I'm eager to get to the tempo run and test the shoes on the long run. Hopefully I'll find the time while we're ripping the siding off our house.

Just a quick report on my second aquathon of the season.

There was a challenge issued among the local tri clubs to see who could get the most racers and the best times or something, so there were about 20 extra people there than normal. And it seemed they were all fast.

My main swim competitor, Brian, was there again. He and I led out the swim, but neither of us could hold a straight line. I tend to drop my head, and I think that pulls me off course. Halfway out the first leg of the 1000m triangle, I felt a surprise little tickle on my feet. "They'll drop away after the first turn," I thought. The turn came and went, and Brian and I are still side by side leading the race. There were still some tickles on my toes. Around the third buoy and headed for home, Brian and I zig-zag and occasionally run into each other. (I thought it was me, but after we confirmed it was the both of us.) Brian must've gotten caught in some waves, because I was able to open a small gap. Out of the water I crossed the timing mat first. As fun as it is to race the swim, I put forth a significant effort.

Brian passed me in transition. (I still have to mess with socks -- gotta break that habit.) I was out #2 and must've left the target on my back. I was passed up the first hill by the top female, and then by the next two guys down the hill. I kept running my race, got passed a few more times, but only once from the turn-around back in. I was actually able to hold off a group of four that were about 20 seconds behind me. (Small victories.) I need to learn how to run fast one of these years. The finish absolutely sucks on this course. You go up the hill, immediately down, and then turn to finish. There's no opportunity to recover after the hill (about the last half-mile.) I was actually yelling to myself to finish. My family scolded me for not acknowledging them down the finish chute, but I was too spent to do anything but make it across the line.

Official finish data:
overall place: 11 out of 92
time: 35:44
swim: 11:24
rate: 1:09/100m
trans: 0:38
run: 23:43
pace: 7:38/mi

I lead my age group for the overall series thus far.

I headed out for a "long run" to see if I could handle the new paces set forth by new training plan. (More on that later.) Ten miles at a 8:20 pace should give me a good feel for what I'll encounter at the the beginning workouts. Everything went swell and I averaged 8:19 for the whole ten miles. I even managed to bring the pace back down after fatigue set in around mile 7. My pace amplitude wasn't as tight as it should be, but that will get better as I run more, I'm sure.

What I really wanted to share (in the spirit of Steve In a Speedo!) is the new blisters from my shoes. It seems that my feet swell up a bit, which fill the insides on my shoes and overflow my inserts, rub along the outside and irritate my skin. The result is what you see below:

Winter's final grasp
After a record-breaking winter season of snow, spring and summer have had difficulty establishing consistent temperatures and conditions. Just this past Monday, it was 82. The following day, it was 55. We're three weeks away from the official start of summer and I haven't even taken the cover off the air conditioner. Thus, the long, drawn-out winter hasn't given enough time to warm the lakes. I asked the lady marking me if the lake was cold. She hesitated a long while before replying with a drawn out "wellll..." I asked if it was above or below 60°. I got no reply. Yikes!

I readied my transition area and went on a warm-up run. The ankle showed no ill affects, so I tested it with some successful strides; all was good on the running front. Next up: the lake. I squeezed into my wetsuit and went to the water's edge. Then I couldn't feel my feet. Actually, it wasn't that bad, but it was cold to be sure. The first few face plants in the water definitely took your breath away, but after a few minutes, you got used to it.

Since I'm more under-trained than I'd like to be, the strategy was to get on someone's feet for the swim and run my own pace & race. Nice and easy, just survive the day to get ready for the next one.

SWIM
The gun went off and we're off. There were two PRO* guys right in front of me. What better feet to draft off than a couple of PROs? Turns out, one's pretty damn fast, and the other can't hold his line very well. I'm on his feet one stroke, the next he's three feet to the right. Then he's right in front of me, the next, he's on my left, pushing both of us right. I let him go and resign to a long slow swim by myself until a catch an orange cap streaking up the left side. NICE! I'm on his feet until we turn around the first buoy when he stops dead in the water. I nearly scaled his back and swam over him but thought better of it and skirted around. I'm left to my own thoughts now, trying to keep my strokes long, even, and smooth. The cold moved beyond the exposed skin and is now sinking into my muscles. My triceps are heavy and stiff. I can feel the tension building with every stroke. All the more reason to keep things long. I try breathing to my off-side (right) for a while and catch myself drifting off-line. I continue zig-zagging the course chasing what I think are the two PROs in front of me, but I see nothing. I swim into the shore as far as possible until I grab clumps of sand instead of all water. Getting up is a challenge until the warm blood returns to the legs. Transition is empty save for the top PRO. Second out of the water? Really? That's a nice surprise. At my stuff, my hands are like clubs as I fiddle with wetsuit and try to put on socks and shoes. The other PROs arrive while I'm leaving for the run.

RUN
Everything about me is cold right now. My feet are anvils swinging from frayed ropes. I have no control over anything, but somehow I manage forward progress. It feels real funny. My fingers aren't really moving. My triceps are stiff and sore. And then a gull shits on my head. Then another. And another until I realize it's starting to rain. Fun! I settle into a nice pace. The other two PROs pass me before the first hill, which I climbed with surprising ease, probably because I couldn't really feel the pain. Back down the hill and around the path, I didn't get passed by the PRO woman until just before the turnaround. Now getting a first look at what was coming up my backside, I thought a few more could catch me. But I never heard footsteps. Up and down the final hill, I powered down the long straightaway that leads to the finish. It was now raining at a fine clip and I finally felt my fingers move. I held off a late charge to maintain fifth place overall.

I felt no feedback from my ankle, Achilles or calf, which is promising for the upcoming marathon training. And I also got a $15 gift certificate to Quaker Steak and Lube for my 2nd place swim.

1K SWIM: 12:01 (1:13/100m) 2nd/74
5K Run: 23:09 (7:28/mi) 28th/74
Total: 35:59 5th/74

What's shocking is that when comparing the times above to last year's performances, I'm right there. I swam slightly slower, but that's expected given the solo effort and cold water. But my run split was the fastest ever! At this point, I don't know if it's a fluke or a sign of things to come. We'll see what happens next time with a warmer lake.

*PRO to me means really, really fast. Plus, I heard them discussing other races and whether they'd be racing as PROs there.

Running is back on track. I had my final appointment with Jenny, the Super PT. The ankle is progressing nicely. Just a few more weeks of some jumping exercises and I'm as good as before. (If I said 'good as new,' I'd be a baby, and that's too young for triathlons.)

I finished my first run without a walk break this morning. At just over three miles, I'm confident I can get through the 5K at the aquathon next week. That is if I finish the swim.

Which brings me to Friday's workout where I thought things were good, but the clock said otherwise. I continuously came in about three seconds slower per 100 than I felt, so it was a bit discouraging. But tonight, tired after the weekend and this morning's run, was swimming long course 100s within 5 seconds of the short course yards on Friday. And doing it consistently. If I pace myself, I've got a fighting chance of finishing.

From a sprained ankle, to increased time at work and a squirrel in the house, the spring base-building season has been trying to say the least. Normally, the Crazylegs Classic 8K run is a good indicator of my fitness level. With all of this, I didn't think I'd even be able to run. But, with good fortune and some good advice from a good physical therapist, I was able to run/walk it. Better yet, I convinced my buddy Paul to do it with me. Paul helped with the wave start so we got to go in the 36th and very last wave, "jj."

We decided on intervals of 4 minutes of running, and one minute walking. As is the norm, we went out really fast on downhill start. Using better judgment, we held back as best we could. A couple of well-placed intervals and we were through the first mile in one piece. The next rest interval ended just as Observatory Hill tipped skyward. Paul walked a bit, but we forged ahead. A couple of more well-timed rests and we cruised through miles two and three. We walked through the water stop, slammed a few cups down and kept running. The pace reduced from this point forward, but we kept things at a sub 11-min/mi pace, and I stayed ahead of Paul to give him something to chase. A quick check of the watch and we were set for a sub one-hour finish, a PR for Paul. I let him know and make a deal to run to the last hill, walk it, and then sprint to the finish. Paul agrees, but doesn't think he can sprint it in. But nonetheless, he sees the end in sight and picks the pace up for a strong finish. We crossed the line at 55:41 for about a five-minute PR for Paul.

I had no issues with my ankle throughout the race, despite spending 10+ hours on a plane and an additional 3 on a bus the day before. (It was supposed to be five total on a plane, but storms in Chicago changed all that.) Paul's shin splits held up well as well. All in all, a good day.

Couple of things that I forgot about. 1) It was wicked windy with quite a chill. 2) Just after the three mile mark at the turnaround, we noticed a member of the band running along. But it just wasn't any band member, it was a tuba player. And he was carrying his tuba! I turned to Paul and asked if he was going to be beat by the guy running with his tuba. He decidedly said no.

Three days of running and no worries. The ankle has held up well. I'm starting slowly, combining short run intervals with bits of walking.

Saturday I did one-minute intervals of running and walking for twenty minutes total. Sunday, I upped it to 1:30/:30 for thirty minutes total. And then today, I extended it to 2:00/:30 for 37.5 minutes total. To my surprise, towards the end of the run, I was more worried about my legs and how out of shape they are than I was about the ankle. At the end, I looked at my watch to see that I covered 4 miles in 40:00, which is a big surprise.

Crazylegs is in two-plus weeks. I thought running it was completely out of the question. Now, my mind is going through different race strategies.

I'm being a wimp about the whole ankle. I'm going to work out. Even if it does hurt. "No pain, no gain," right? "What does not kill you makes you stronger," no? "Where there's a will, there's a way," correct?

It's time to run, or this whole year is going to flash before my eyes and I'll still be whining that my ankle hurts. I did the one minute run/walk interval again yesterday and it felt fine. I'm going to do more today. And I'm going to do more tomorrow. Wednesday, I will see another physical therapist and plan to get some guidance on how much training I'm capable of, how to treat myself as I recover, and how to train properly for a fall marathon (if possible.)

This all happens after I can get that damn squirrel out of my attic and walls.

It felt good to be out again. The sun was slowly fading, as were the snow banks. My watched beeped, and I was off. Running for the first time in two months. Then my watched beeped again and I was walking. I kept switching, a minute at a time for a total of 20 minutes.

It was a series of events that brought me to where I am. In January, I sprained my ankle. And my stubborn side decided not to see a doctor. (No need to rub it in, Ms. IronWil.) It was hard to bike, and even harder to swim. Running, of course, was out of the question. The planned-to-be-written workout remains planned-to-be-written. Work got really busy. I was spending many late nights there, skipping any kind of workout that I could've fit in. When you're working late, you grab food when you can from where you can. Add to that more work and less working out.

Then, a couple of weeks ago, in the fervor of a spring day and new bike parts, I decided to jog a bit on my way home from the bike store. And later that night my ankle throbbed with pain. My desire to workout was growing, but my body wasn't accommodating. Thanks to friends in the business (the physical therapist business), they helped me understand that my fibula bone had slid forward off the talocrural joint (ankle).

You see, when "I sprained my ankle," what I'm really saying is that I damaged my anterior talofibular ligament. And, from what I have deduced, the weak, injured ligament allowed my fibula to slide forward. And when I tried jogging it, I aggravated it, and thus, the pain. They're recommendation was to "mobilize" it by gently nudging it back into place. After a couple nights of that, and things seemed to be back on the mend. Fast forward through another busy week of work, a last minute work trip to Dallas yesterday and some more spring like weather. All that and my gut has begun to press against the inside of my pants with a little too much gusto.

The watched beeped for the last time, and I started walking again. No pain. It felt good enough that I just might try this again. Nice.

There was one goal left to cross off my list for 2007: a sub 20:00 5K run. I surpassed my 10K goal much earlier than expected in May and nearly went sub 2:30 for an Olympic distance triathlon in June. I faded in training after July's WIBA, Pewaukee sprint and final aquathons, only to salvage one final age group win bouncing back after my first DNF.

A sub-20 5K is a Big Deal. It is the hardest of my 2007 goals to meet. Following my last triathlon race, I started concentrating on running following Runner's World's Turkey Trot 5K PR training guide. Everything was going swell. I was running four to five times a week and noticing improvements as the sun rose later and later each morning. With about a month to go, my shins really started fighting back during and especially after workouts. Too much running? Too little rest? Shoes too old? It was probably a combination of all three. So I reacted to all three. I took a week off from running, took a full day off between workouts and bought new shoes. By the time I got all of that all sorted out, I had two weeks left before Thanksgiving. Not necessarily where I wanted to be training-wise. My week off ended up being the peak week of the training plan with the most hills, host descend repeats, and longest hard runs. I knew that would come back to haunt me.

Thanksgiving was to be a bit chilly. Two inches of snow fell the day before. The streets, too warm for the snow to stick to, were icy where the water didn't evaporate. I got to the race site early on purpose and used a coffee shop's bathroom because I was afraid of my booty sticking to the porta-potty's seat in the cold. I warmed up on the course for about a half-hour, trying to time it so that I wouldn't cool down too much before the race start. It wasn't the cold that would by painful, but the wind. The out and back course set up the wind to be in your face to the finish. It was a good reminder of the hills in the final mile; a short steep one, a long steady one, and a molehill that hurts just enough to interrupt the finishing kick.

They had the 5K runners group together away from the start to let the 10K runners go first. I was right there, three rows deep, turned around to see if I knew anyone, and there's X! We chatted about stupid stuff and danced around to keep warm. When it came time to move to the actual start line, I found myself too far back in the crowd with no room to move forward.

Right out of the gate, I got boxed in. I nearly had to throw some elbows to get out of the box. Once out, I settled into a nice groove, pushing the envelope of my comfortable speed limit. I passed the first mile mark slightly behind schedule, owing it to the poor start. Another half mile, and we turned around into the wind and hills. Mile 2 went by quicker than I expected. I purposely didn't look at my watch, so I had no idea that it was slow. The only thing I knew was that I was starting to suffer.

"Seven more minutes, only seven more minutes. I can do seven more minutes." Then I hit the first hill on the return home.

I made my way around the so-called roundabout and took the straightest path from tangent to tangent. With that hill crested, it was a quick dip and then up the second; a long steady climb. At the top, the trees cleared, and the wind picked up right in my face.

"This is is your wall. Break through. Break through your wall. Run!"

I was rubber from the waist down. Nothing reacted. And then, I remembered what Joe Bator said about running a 5K,

"When you think you are about to blow up start using your arms. They will be hanging by your side. Pump them. Pull with them."

"My arms! I have arms! That's right! I have arms! Use them!"

And so I did. I pumped and pumped. I pumped so much that the last hill was turned into a bump. I made the final turn and picked out people that passed me. Joe said to imagine that they're the last person to go under 20 min. Pass them. And I did. Then I there was another. And I passed them. Then, I saw the clock. The first digit told the whole story: it was a two. Guh. Not the 19-something I'd hoped for.

My watched stopped at 20:59. The chip time was 21:04. One stinking minute. I keep thinking about that final mile and what could've gone different. It wasn't in the final mile but rather in the month before with sore shins and old shoes. Bottom line, I'm okay with this. It's still a forty-five second PR from what I can tell. (And on the same course no less.) And I don't have shin splints or a stress fracture, so that leaves all winter to train and get ready for 2008.

Data: 75/1639 Overall | 5/68 M 30-34 | 68/779 Males

Route:

Mile Splits:

Since I learned that my brother planned to run the entire marathon course, I kind of forgot that I had my own race. All I wanted to do was to finish my race as fast as possible so that I could go cheer him on. And it started out that way.

First, we interrupt this report to complain about the race. While waiting for the start, the race director told us to follow the pace car and we wouldn't have to worry about a thing. Too bad it didn't work out that way. At the first turn, the car turned left, and we turned right. See ya, wouldn't want to be ya. Lucky for the leaders, us followers knew the course and brought them back. Then, at the bottom of the hill, the 6K runners were supposed to split and head to the finish line. But no course official was there and the cop blocking the intersection didn't have a clue. Again, we tried to get most of the 6K runners on the right course. The one that finished right behind me, pissed that he ran the whole 10K course, must've missed the split. Other than those mishaps, it was a nice race. Back to the action.

I set my watch to set up a 10K race with 7:15 min/mi splits. That's a final time of 45:03, approximately 3:30 better than my previous PR and right at one of my season goals. I wasn't expecting to go that fast, I just wanted to see what I could do. Down the hill and through the course split, my watch beeped at the first mile: 6:30-something. HOLY FRICKIN' MOLEY! (or something along those lines) I slowed way down. (See the chart below.) My first thought was about how much I just destroyed my race. My next thought was that I now had approximately a 9 second cushion per mile. So now I only have to average under 7:24 min/mi to get that sub-45 goal. This just might be doable. I settle back and just keep my stride for the next few miles.

About mile 5 or so, a woman passed me. Unlike me, she paced the race correctly and looked to have a strong finish. She was perfect for me to follow. I stuck with her for the sixth mile. My key jangled in my pocket and my breathing was hard, loud and heavy. It had to be really annoying. Annoying enough that she kept looking back. After the fourth time, I apologized, "Sorry. I'm still here." At least she laughed.

Once I hit mile 6, I dropped the hammer and finished hard. With the help of my pace setting friend, I knew I had the sub-45, but could I get a sub-44? FOR SURE! With the official time of 43:55, I exceeded a season-long goal by over a minute and a PR of nearly five minutes! In the finish line area, I sought out my pace friend. She had a big smile as I approached and I thanked her for pacing me. I got some food and then took off after my brother at mile 14 of his marathon. And he ended up finishing in 4:07 or so. Big congrats to him!

Post Race
I officially earned fourth place in my age group. But since the overall winner was in my age group, he got removed and I got bumped up to third, eligible for an award. Unfortunately, I didn't realize it until Tuesday morning. (No word yet if I still can get the award.) Update: They're sending my placque! More hardware! Sweet!

I cleaned out my closet on Sunday to discover I had yet to discard any of my running shoes. Only one pair aren't in the shot, as they're in the mud room and used for messy outdoor activities. I average about 250 to 280 miles per pair. All but the two on right are set aside to be recycled.

2007 opened with a full plate. I signed up for the Earlybird triathlon not realizing that it was the day after the Crazylegs Classic. Crazylegs is one of those local races that you have to do, because there are 9,000 others that do it with you. How do you say no to 9,000 people?

I ran to the start to warm up. On my way, a runner with an obviously orange warm up jacket merged to the path just in front of me. I ran closer and noticed it was from 2007. Referencing the Nor'easter that hit Boston over Patriot's day, I asked if he'd dried out from the race. He had. We continued chatting and I learned that he'd been in town for the week on business. His recovery from the marathon was progressing nicely, so he extended his stay an extra day for the race. He, too, couldn't say no to 9,000 people.

I started in wave D, just fourth from the front. My plan was to run a 7-minute first mile and hold it steady from there for a sub-36 finish. The first mile came and went, 6:42. Darn. Too fast. This is going to hurt. About that time, I noticed that same girl was near me. Dressed all in blue, she was darting between people to find open space. I latched on to keep her same pace and hope she'd pull me to the finish. In my head, she was "my girl blue." Blue slowed the next couple of miles and I stayed with her. She bobbed to open spaces and I kept my eye on her. Soon after the third mile I was straining to see Blue in the through the open spots. I blinked and then she was gone. Ugh. Not having Blue to latch on to allowed thoughts of rest for the next day's triathlon creep into my mind. And for the few minutes my I fought them, I knew my sub-36 was gone.

This season is as much about running as it is about mind games. I can visualize finishes, but I have trouble visualizing the fight that it takes to through the pain to get the finish I desire. I really could've learn something about myself, but the triathlon the next day kept me from pushing miles 3 & 4. I kicked in a bit for mile 5, and was surprised to see that I finished in a personal best 36:10. Being so close to 36 minutes was bitter sweet. On one hand, I got a personal best, but I missed my goal by the (lack of) hair on my head. I finished 662nd overall and 85th in my age group.

So all this running might be paying off. I ran Bucky' Race for Rehab 5K instead of a running time trial as part of my recovery week. It was the same course as the Valentine's Day 5K, providing the opportunity to compare and see if I could improve on my 22:00 performance on the bitterly cold day in February.

One of my season goals is to run a sub 20:00. In the race registration bag, Runner's World provided a chart that showed the necessary pace to finish a particular time for several race distances. To go sub 20:00 in a 5K, you need to be faster than a 6:30 pace. Gulp. My first thought was to rethink my goal. Nerves aside, it was a beautiful sunny day. Just cool enough, but not so much to be chilled.

I started near the front to avoid the slower starters. However, this induced me to run the first mile a touch fast. I split the first mile in 6:23. Whoa. Too fast. (But it felt so good.) I backed off and settled into an aggressive pace to make sure I would push myself.

Throughout mile 2, I stuck with most of the group and even picked off a couple of guys fading. Granted, they were nearly twice my age, but a pass is a pass. I crossed the 2nd mile mark at 13:00, for a 6:37 split, leaving seven minutes to go 1.1 miles. I would need to run at a 6:22 pace to get there in time. I knew that it wasn't happening today. (That's why a sub-20 is a season long goal.)

At about mile 2.5, there's a hair-pin turn at the top of a small incline. It totally sucks. The combination of the curve and hill zap any momentum that you have for the home stretch. I hit the hell already thinking I'm dead. I feel like I'm in molasses but I press on to the finish, which is also up a small hill.

I turned the final corner and saw the 20:xx on the clock. I didn't expect to see that, so I was excited and stopped my watch at 20:37. A PR by over a minute from last November's 21:49. Now to repeat the run after a swim and a bike.

Tuesday started different than other spring days. There was still some snow on the ground. It quickly dissipated in the light rain and warm temps. So much so that it really created a heavy feeling in the air. Eventually the sky darkened in response and a few brief, heavy storms rolled through featuring some sweet lightning.

After the storm blew through, I headed out for my run along Lake Monona as usual. The closer I got to the lake, the thicker the fog got. Just before the Monona Terrace, I thought about taking my eyeballs out and wiping them on my shirt, like you do with glasses. I thought that the cars were going way too fast for fog this thick. I continued, squinting because I thought it helped and then stopped.

It was gone.

I stopped and turned around. Whoa. I saw a wall of cloud behind me. I took one step into and the temperature dropped about twenty degrees. The combination of warm weather, high humidity and cold lake had hit a sweet spot. The frozen lake was sublimating. The light northerly breeze was blowing the vapor directly over land. (The swim entrance for those of you that have been to IM WI.) It was too think to be considered fog. It was a cloud.

And then it happened again. Sunday, I went out for another run. And again, the ice was evaporating so fast that it was pouring out over the land. It was so thick, I was worried that I wouldn't be seen as I crossed the road. Sight distance was less than 100 feet. On the other side, it was warm, sunny and a completely different world.

A challenge was put down to run for every day in February. I figured I needed the to kick my running into gear, so I took it. And there's no better way to run faster than to go out and run. So I did, except for Thursdays. On Thursday I play basketball. I counted the games as speed work.

After 28 days, I'm proud to report that I ran on 26 of them. I missed two; one because of a blizzard, and the other because my body said it just wasn't going to happen. Both were in the last week. I started at a 9:05 min/mi pace with a average heart rate in the mid 150s. I ended the month with the same relative effort at a 8:25 min/mi pace with an average heart rate below 148. Throw in a PR for a 5K in 10 degree weather (22:01 in case you're wondering), and you've got a great month of running. I covered 102 miles in 22 runs + 4 basketball games, one of which I played the entire forty minutes. Now it's time to concentrate on the bike and let the running muscles recover for a bit.

There is an area on the Madison isthmus known as snow emergency zone. In the winter, residents in the zone are allowed to park anywhere it's legal, while the rest of the city must park on alternate sides of the street depending on the day. When a storm hits, the city declares a "snow emergency" and those of us in isthmus must adhere to the same alternate parking rules. In fact, the city declared an emergency due to the recent storm.

Running in an urban area, it's tough to find good routes that you can regularly run. There's many bike paths, but nothing really meant for running loops. So I made this one up. The run above perfectly circumvents the snow emergency zone. It's great little run, about 7miles total. You run along both Lake Monona and Mendota and the Yahara River. There also a little bit of the UW campus, particularly the Memorial Union Terrace. I added a little extra on the one shown above. In honor of our storm, I plan to run as much of the route as can tonight.

Update: I wrongly assumed that others in my neighborhood would clear their sidewalks like I did. I struggled to find clear routes, but worst of all were the street crossings. If they were clear (rare), the snowmelt filled in the gap with water. So I was leaping either over snow mounds, or large puddles. I felt like a gazelle. Eventually, I decided to head up to the Capitol square, assuming that the State would clear their sidewalks. They did. So I stayed there and ran around and around and around again until it was time to run home. I got in 8 miles when it was all said and done.

I contemplated training for Chicago's full marathon but then it sold before I could even start contemplating it. And wouldn't you know, there's a half marathon (not related) two weeks prior. To make it more fun, I got my sister to do it with me. That way I wouldn't feel bad about waking up at 5:30 am when I stayed at her place.

Through August and September, I struggled to adhere to Hal Higdon's intermediate half-marathon training plan. Too much life in the way, which isn't necessarily a bad thing. But I made it with a couple of longish runs and noticed that after a few speed workouts and races, my pace was quicker with the same level of effort (heart rate). It seemed like something was working.

I toed the line with goal of finishing sub 1:50 with a stretch goal of sub-1:45. I planned to negative split, running 8:05 miles for the first half, and sub 8:00s for the second half. My finish time all depended on how far under 8 minutes I'd be on the last 6.5 miles.

I lined up within view of the 1:45 pace setter and planned to let him fade into the distance and then bring him back into view through my negative split strateegery. What I didn't plan on was the presumed inexperience of the pace setter. When the first mile clocked in at 8:30, the 1:45 sign disappeared into the distance in a hurry. I can imagine his thoughts were something like, "Uh-oh, we've got to pick it up here." And then he sprints to make up for it. And I went after it stupidly. The second mile was sub-8:00. Back and forth, we played the accordion, not really setting an even pace. By the 3.5 mile mark, I let him go and turned inward to run my race. Right at that point, my bladder turned outward and let me know that we weren't going to finish this race without stopping. (And if you know my bladder, you know that it doesn't joke around.) I made a quick stop, about 25 seconds worth, and continued on my way.

I saw my parents and cousin just after mile 4. You've got to love my Mom's enthusiasm. She puts it all out there, holding nothing back. I continued on, clocking some even 8:05 miles and crossed the halfway point in 52:08 on the chip, for a 7:58 pace. Maybe a touch too fast? We'll see. Along the way, I took water whenever I could, and slammed a Gu just before mile 5. Unfortunately the placement of the aide stations seemed random. And the Gatorade mix (provided at only two stations) was way too strong. My tummy started to talk back, so I held off on the liquids for a little bit. Miles 8 & 9 proved to be the toughest mentally. My body wanted to fall back on my comfortable training pace. I had to make active mental effort to continue to push my legs, knowing that they wouldn't fall off. I also would've taken my other Gu, but the lack of consistent water stations didn't allow me to.

At mile 10, I heard the family before I saw them, providing a much needed boost to the ego. I spent the next two miles trying to keep my pace under 7:50 to keep the negative split alive. It was during this time there were others actually pacing off of me. Me? As a pace setter? Never! The last mile and half I spent with Marty. We didn't talk, but had spent most of the day within sight of each other. He appeared to be a Galloway runner, walking after every mile to douse himself with water from a personal water bottle. He'd catch up, spend some time with me, move ahead for a while, then drop off for his walk and then repeat the process. He took an extra break at mile 12.6, and then raced ahead to cross the line ahead of me. (I beat his chip time, though!)

The finishing mile plays with your head. It's windy, and you think you'll see the finish line around the next gentle curve. It was never there. To further mess with your head, the organizers put a speaker way before the actual line, so what you thought was the finish announcer was really wasn't. Finally, after the last bend, the line was in sight. And, I'm sure there's plenty this guy in every race: the psycho guy yelling at himself, totally in the red, charging to the finish line. He zoomed by, scaring everyone with his torrent to the line. I struggled to muster up a finish sprint myself, and crossed the line with a 1:44:55 on my watch. Nice to see, but deep down I knew it wouldn't stick. I stretched my legs waiting for my sister and cousin to finish. I counted on my legs being sore, but I didn't count on my shoulder cramping up big time. I must've really scrunched up pumping out the last few miles. I dunno what happened, but it really hurt.

Aside from the plethora of water and Gatorade Endurance at the finish line, the food really was lacking. It was well organized, but the one banana, apple and teeny bag of pretzels was severely lacking. No cookies, bagels or any treats normally accustomed to finish line areas. This disappointment combined with the misplacement of aide stations are just enough for me to write to the race directors and share my thoughts.

My final chip time is 1:45:19, 24 seconds off my watch time. My watch, a Forerunner 305 is set to pause when I stop moving. So, when I ducked into the bathroom, it paused while I peed. (Normally I'm a speedster, this time it seemed to drag on and on and on.) So, it turns out the 24 seconds it took me to pee cost me my stretch goal. No matter. This is PR by over ten minutes. I'm really pleased with the improvements I've made in my running and I know there's a lot more potential within.

Final numbers:
Overall: 1:45:19 for an 8:02 pace
Finished 1105 of 8981 and 142 / 639 in my age group: (M30-34).
Splits: 0:52:08 / 0:53:11

[FYI: An aquathon is a swim followed directly by a run.]

This was the last of the series, but my first. A new thing for this summer, I hoped to do more, but these always seemed to fall on weeks directly prior to races, or I was out of town. Like all races this year, I was undertrained. The only thing I had going for me was my run fitness, up a bit because of my Chicago Half-Marathon training. My swimming; not so much. The race was laid back. Just walk up and set your stuff down. I got body-marked (number 6!) and went on a short warm up jog, and then got my wetsuit on and eaves-dropped on some conversations. There were quite a few people there that had just finished Ironman Wisconsin and hadn't run since. Some might call them crazy, I call these people die-hards.

Swim
The water was a bit chilly but calm. I paddled around a bit and called myself warmed up. Then things were delayed waiting for a few folks. A couple of quick announcements and the gun went off. I take off running to the water to the right of the counter-clockwise triangle course with the lead group. That was all I could hope for. But I veer constantly. I don't seem to be able to hold a straight line without a big black row of tiles under me. I swim like I'm drunk. I finally settle in and try to find a groove. I'm next two a guy I recognize from the Nat and we're stroke for stroke behind two leaders, one of which is on a relay "for fun." But I can't seem to find a groove. My stroke never lengths and I can't seem to stop sprinting. I guess I'm doing this one all out. I continue on my wayward path veering this way and that and finish strong, fourth out of the water.

Run
I struggled to get my socks on over my wet, sandy feet, then grabbed my shirt and headed out on the run. By the first turn, I lost my swimming partner. Unfamiliar with the course, I thought I missed a turn but it turned out I was okay. My run started out really short and choppy, but lengthened as I got warmed up. I got passed a few times, but held of a couple of people, too. That actually felt good. I did get passed by the first female, but that was right at the end and she won the entire series, so I wasn't too upset about it. I hoped my time would've reflected the hard effort, but the intervals the night before left nothing in the tanks.

Overall, a nice time with some really nice people. I hope to compete more in next year's series.

Swim (1000m): 11:05 (4th OA)
Run: (5K): 23:30 7:23 pace (21st OA)
Total: 35:23, (8th OA, 7th AG)

In the pool, I can always tell when my body clicks into gear and I go from getting back into shape to actually working out. It's a bit of a euphoric feeling, not quite a high, but enough to keep the motivation high. Every pull feels stronger than the previous and your speed increases without much additional effort. It usually happens in the middle of a harder set, after a series of consistent efforts across several days.

I'm happy to say that my run clicked last night. Finally, in my second year of running, I feel like I broke through. I ran 4.89 miles in 0:40:40, for an 8:19 pace. That's all you say? I agree, that's not fast by a wide margin, and I've run faster for about the same distance but for a simple Tuesday run it's outstanding. I've talked about breaking through before, but here's the real reason it was so good: my average heartrate for the entire run was 145. I can honestly say that I've never run that far as fast with as little effort.

I can point to a couple of reasons why this occurred. First, it was a cool night: 50°F and overcast. Although it was a touch windy, these are perfect running conditions. Second, I just finished a sprint race Sunday. Just as in swimming, the workout following a hard effort kicks the body into a higher gear. I've realized that my running fitness has gotten better, but it's been a long, slow process. I can only hope this type of fitness holds for another week and a half, where I hope to go 1:45 (ave. 8 min/mi) in the Chicago Half Marathon.

When IronWil first announced she'd registered for Ironman Wisconsin, I immediately contacted her and invited her to Madison to check out the course. After some planning and a bunch of e-mails, the weekend was picked and an itinerary was set.

I was a bit nervous for my role in the weekend. I was playing host, offering my lone year in triathlons as "expert" experience. Thankfully, there were others, particularly Thomps and SimplyStu. Both had also completed several tris and IM WI in previous years and would be along for the ride. I was also a touch apprehensive because I knew the others only in digital form. Although lots get shared via blogs, that is only one part of the person. There's much more to a personality than a digital representation.

I met up with Stu and Jeff (Thomps) for dinner on Friday. Then SLS and her husband arrived from the Twin Cities. Then we waited. And waited. And waited. It was all good because the five of us shared lots of fun stories. And then the ladies showed up. In walked IronWil, TriSaraTops, and Elizabeth and took the place over. All had fun sharing stories of eating, training and fender-benders long into the evening.

Saturday morning would dawn bright, hot and windy. Perfect conditions for a training ride. Because, as tradition has it, Ironman Wisconsin tends to be on the hottest day of the summer. I met Thomps and the ladies at their hotel and we caravaned to Fireman's park in Verona. It traditionally is the base for all IM WI training rides, but IronWil thought (at first) it was all for the WIBA ride. Alas, not all 50+ riders were there for WIBA, but about 15 were. A very nice crew set out.

Based on a tip from Stu, we decided to visit the entire course, rather than do two loops. So, we set out for Madison on what I call the IronLink. In 2005, I rode the IronLink 20 times in various training rides. Seventeen were just the Link itself; the remaining three included rides with the loop (aka IronLoop) in some capacity. In 2006, I had only been on it once. It felt good to be back on the familiar course. We got ourselves a touch spread out, but were able rejoin as we reached Madison and the Monona Terrace. We spent some time staring up at the parking ramps, used on race day as the swim-in and bike-out & bike-in entrances to the transition area within the convention center. The lake lapped at the shores, begging the future Ironman competitors to go for a swim. And they will in two months. Defueled (we peed), we made our way back out to Verona to tackle the main section of the course, the IronLoop.

Now refueled, we set out for the hills on the Loop. Not too long into the ride, I get a call from IronWil. She took a digger and thought she was lost. A quick review of her turns got her back on course (she never left it) and then my phone froze. It didn't shut off or drop the call, it actually froze up. The screen froze, no buttons worked, no beeps, nothing. I checked the battery, took it out and put it back, but nothing came back on. So I turned back to see the group coming along. Phew. Now I was just down a phone. Who cares? Let's just keep riding. We got caught up at the next turn and made our way to Mt. Horeb. (You also might hear it as "Mt. Horrible.") Just a few rollers and then the long steady climb.

Wait, my phone's ringing...It's Stu! Turns out he missed us in Verona and now will meet us in Mt. Horeb. Sweet! (And good news that my phone works again!) Out next rest stop was at the Kwik Trip and featured another stop to record some audio and comment on Elizabeth's sweet purple helmet. She promised us a new one with a custom paint job was in the works. Stu added a huge spark to the group and the change in scenery from the valley to the hilltops wowed our flatland friends. Up and down the rollers along Witte Rd and the big descent on Garfoot Rd brought us into Cross Plains and our second rest stop.

Now the tough stuff. From Cross Plains, we turned south into the wind and heat. This is always the hottest part of the course. I could sense some tension rise as we talked about the hills to come. This next section has three: Old Sauk Pass, Timber Lane, and Mid-Town Rd. The first and longest is Old Sauk Pass, followed nearly immediately by Timber Lane. Back to back, this section is formally known as the Degree Toughest Section and draws the largest crowd (including the local Devil) next to the party held on Main Street in Verona. Everyone cruised right up the hills without any problems. We did run into some issues on Midtown Rd. It was recently chip sealed and the loose gravel proved to be a bit much for some of us and traction was lost.

Traction aside, it was amazing to see the confidence of SLS, IronWil and TriSaraTops grow as we announced there were no more hills. Like any good fish tale, with every thought of the course, the hills in their mind had grown to be insurmountable peaks that lift straight into the clouds. The weight of the course dropped off their shoulders as we cruised back into Verona. They knew they have the ability, strength and courage to complete the course.

Overall, I had a blast riding the course with everyone and it reaffirmed that having fun is just as important as any workout. When I'm asked how the Ironman was from me, I still surprise everyone by telling them that most of all, "I had fun." If I'm not having fun, it's not worth it. So, to those that spent the day together sweating, swearing and climbing the hills, thank you for reminding me that it's all about the fun. Amongst a hectic life, I've missed that this year and didn't even know it was gone.

My one last piece of advice for all those out competing, enjoy what you're doing. You're doing it because you choose to do so. You're doing it because someone told you you couldn't. You're doing because you saw someone else and said, "me, too." But most of all, I hope you to do it because you enjoy it. I know this group does.

Pictures from Steve (click on each for a description):

Last year, I was pretty pleased with my improvements at the Crazylegs Classic 8K race. This year, I didn't know what to expect. Training for the marathon has really improved my running. I wasn't quite sure just how much, so I did a quick check of my running pace averaged from every workout and race for each month since I started training. Sure enough, there was some serious improvement: pictures are worth a lot of words. (popup) Note the uptick in September 2005. My average pace for the IM was 11:xx per mile, and I didn't run again for the rest of the month.

I first noticed there was some potential to run fast when I ran most of the Crazylegs route as a Fartlek and ended up near the Stadium finish line in thirty-six minutes, four minutes faster than last year. Then I got sick and took a business trip to El Paso, losing valuable back to back training weeks. My knee hasn't felt quite right since, and I didn't know how it would hold up in the race. I promised to be responsive and if it hurt too much, I'd rest and hang back.

Wave starts were new this year at Crazylegs. Thirty-six waves of runners would start thirty seconds apart. The first group had fifty runners, and then there were about three hundred split in the remaining waves. The main reason for the wave start was a picture of last year's start where a ten year old boy started with the really fast people. Lots of people complained. With more than 10,000 runners every year, something had to be done. Wave assignements depended on your time. They used your previous time if you had run Crazylegs before. If you were new, you only had to prove your time if you can run an 8K faster than thirty-six minutes. Based on last year's time, I was assigned to wave H. But, since I was in a wave that didn't require a proof of time, there were many ten year-old boys and girls in my wave. Two were standing right next to me as we started. Both shouted at each other over their iPods; his a shuffle, hers a bejeweled mini. They continued to yell at each other as we reached the first hill. She started cramping. It was mile 0.4. Kids. Sheesh.

My first mile went by in a flash. All of sudden my watched beeped and I looked at a 6:59. Say wha? Too fast. I dialed it back in mile two, up Observatory Hill and by Liz Waters Dormitory, the hilliest section of the course. I cruised miles 3 & 4. And kicked it in for the final mile. My knee started to act up as I pushed it, but nothing I couldn't handle. Just before the last turn, I glanced at my watch, 35:xx; I need to haul to get the line under 37:00. I started a nice kick and took about five people with me. We all sped to the fifty-yard line. I stopped the watch on the mat: 36:49.

A full four minutes faster than last year, and light years ahead of two years ago. Crazylegs indeed.

I stepped onto the porch of our building, breathing warm air in to my thinly covered hands. Nippy, but not too bad. I finished my stretching routine and began my warm-up walk. Everything was so calm. No cars, no wind, just a hint of light in the eastern sky. Dark everwhere else. I started running with my footfalls breaking the silent morning. I passed the first runner. I returned her smile with one of my own, proudly completmenting each other on making it out of bed and getting out to run. A mile later, another runner, this time it was a nod of acknowledgement.

As I ran, the sky got lighter, the air around me, warmer and more and more people made their way to work. I passed several, looking at them the same as I did to the others. I never connected like I did with the runners. There was just something underlyingly cool about being out before everyone else.

The forecasts were not looking so good for this morning's run. The actual weather didn't disappoint. It was supposed to be an easy run; a nice 5K to help support the Technology Education Foundation. Instead it turned into a frigid stomp on cold, hard asphalt. It was 12°F when I left and the wind gusts reaching 40 miles per hour. Rather than have a time as a goal, the new goal was refined to finish as fast as comfortably possible. Then find the nearest cup of hot chocolate.

I donned the most warm stuff I could comfortably run in, and still froze waiting for the start. Twenty-five minutes later, I was done and within thirty seconds, had a cup of hot chocolate in my hand. (The water bottle I grabbed had ice in it.) Final results: 25:02 (8:04 pace), 6th in AG (now 30-34), and 105th overall. I think that's enough racing outside until next spring.

As you may have guessed, things are busy. But things are good. I crashed hard last night after a full weekend. First, I ran the farthest I've ever run, completing 18.25 miles in 2:51. I ran the entire time, supported by the wonderful Kris. It was a perfect morning to run; a touch overcast, cool, and no wind. After that, friends came in for the Great Taste of the Midwest.

Then on Sunday, I woke up early to get in a 56 mile ride through the rolling hills east of Madison. I'm happy to report that there was no major pain or discomfort. The scariest part was the numerous dogs that looked serious enough to kill, or ate least eat my leg. Thankfully, all stayed on their property. Then, we all went to Aunt Romayne's for a wonderful cookout and day on the lake, screaming around on her new jet ski. After all that, sleep came easily on the ride home and in bed. So easily, and so needed, that I decided it was more important than swimming in the lake this morning.

The iontophoresis treatment continues this week, and hopefully my bike numbers will rebound it bit. It may be tough with a business trip on Wednesday & Thursday, but I can always run.

I'm still dealing with the darkness of the morning at 5 AM. Actually it was more like 5:30 before I got up. (Snooze is a very powerful button.) It was still dark. The thick air was damp from the overnight rain. Sidewalks and roadways were damp and puddles lingered in the humid air. Immediately I was sweating. Within the first few miles the shirt was soaked and clinging to my body like a wet t-shirt contest, except I wasn't going to win.

On the Lakeshore path leading to the Union Terrace, I passed an obviously anorexic woman. She was laboring on her walk, carrying bags that dwarfed her already miniscule frame. I probably stared a bit too long as I passed. My mind was centered on how she would react if I asked her to seek help. Would I contribute to her disease being a stranger and saying she has a problem? Does she realize she is sick? Would it shock her enough into seeking treatment if a passing stranger suggested that doing so would help? I couldn't get it out of my head all day. My hope is that she does have a support system that does care about her and wants her to get better. I know from what I've done this past year that only she can make the change. No one can do it for her. I can't help. And that's what makes it so difficult to see.

The day ended perfectly celebrating Kris' birthday at Restaurant Magnus. A table for two outside in the perfect summer night was reserved just for us. She had the Calamari Steak, and I had the Diablo Steak. Both were quite tasty, filled with adventurous flavor. We topped those off with Key Lime Pie (her) and homemade Strawberry Ice Cream (me). According to their website, it's impossible to eat a dinner "without eating organic or locally grown food." According to me, it is impossible to eat dinner "without enjoying their food immensely."

As I alluded to in last week's summary, I am at the beginning of the end of my training. For me and for you, I hope to document my last weeks of training, and include all the range of emotions as I prep for The Big Day. I don't think they'll all be this long, though. All will be categorized under "T-Minus."

Today was exactly 40 days before September 11. It also started three weeks of lots of time swimming, biking and running. I hope to average about 15 hours each week working out. Two emphasizing the bike, one on the run. Swimming will occur in Lake Monona, getting used to long, continuous swims, the lake and my wetsuit. I woke up this morning at 5 AM to darkness. Just a month ago, the sun had been up for nearly 20 minutes. Now, it hadn't broken the horizon. As a result, I was treated to a giant orange glow about twenty minutes into my ride.

When I started, mid-week rides pushed 45 minutes and went around Lake Monona. Soon, I needed a longer ride, and I pushed it to an hour around the Capitol City Trail. Lately, I've pushed it even more, and now I close in on two hours a ride, following the Ironman bike course to the loop portion that starts in Verona. I call it the Ironlink. On the Ironlink, there's one hill that takes some effort. At the crest, there's a mailbox post made from PVC pipe, connected and painted to green to represent a cactus. As such, I've name the hill "Cactus Hill." Every time I reach the top of Cactus Hill, I wish that I had a camera to capture the view. In it, quintessential Wisconsin is captured. Green rolling hills, large farms, and bypasses around small cities. Today it held up to the expectations, with patches of morning fog trapped in the valleys swallowing up the farms in the nooks and crannies of the driftless hills.

The run tonight wasn't so serene. In an effort to stay cool and get errands done, I quick ran to Qdoba and got dinner. In a sincere lack of judgment, I ordered a burrito and swallowed it whole. I then got the errands done and made it home to get ready to run. Unfortunately, the burrito hadn't settled, nor did the weather. It was still near 90°F and sticky. The tummy wasn't too happy with my speed, so I made do and was out when the sun set.

So that marks t-minus 40 days. Up and down with the sun.

May 29, 2005
Madison, Wisconsin

Bib: 1545
Overall: 623/1680
Division: 60/110 (M25-29)
Sex: 407/728
Half-way time: 53:29
Overall time: :56:35
Chip time: 1:55:34
Pace: 8:49

Part of the reason the Mad-City Half Marathon was on the list was the commitment of Kris' friends to run it together. I convinced a co-worker to do the same, and we formed ourselves a posse. To properly prepare, we invited everyone over for our carbo-loading pasta pot-luck dinner. The conversation was lively, and the food excellent. You know you've got some serious cooks when the Jell-O is the most overachieving dish on the menu.

Unfortunately, my GI system acted up Saturday morning, most likely from the Olive Garden dinner the night before. I didn't have a solid session for the twenty-four hours leading up to Sunday's race. I held out hope that things would solidify over night and be peachy keen before the start at 7:38. It wasn't to be so. I did what I could and we headed out to start the race, not sure what would happen with my body on the course. Bathroom location could be a serious issue.

We got to the start line as they were finishing the National Anthem for the marathoners. They left at 7:30, and we left eight minutes later. So this was it. My longest run yet in my biggest event to date. It's really getting serious. It didn't take long to get to the starting mats and then around the square to Johnson Street. In preparation for the race, I jogged the first four or so miles of the course more than twenty-five times. At the time, I did it to have a regular route for training, but as I jostled for position, I realized how much all those runs paid off. There was no need to worry about the route. I had it memorized and could focus on the race and my pace. It also built my confidence, knowing that I had done this so many times, it became just another training run.

At the first major turnaround a late marathoner ran by, splitting off from us half-marathoners, we ran over our encouragements chalked on the pavement for the group, and I passed Kris. It was awesome seeing her cheering us on. Our conversation was simple:

"Where's your sweatshirt?"

"Tammy." I pointed behind me.

"How are you feeling?"

"Good." And gave her a thumbs up.

Short and sweet, my one word answers drew chuckles from the runners around me.

Slowly at first, the miles ticked off. The only bathroom issue for the entire run was some nervous/anticipation sensation customary at the begining of races. That sensation slowly dissappated as I ran. At the halfway point, we crossed more timing mats and I'm at 53:29 - under pace for the under two-hour goal. Upon seeing the turnaround past picnic point, I could see that I had nailed the route exactly in my training runs. It continued to give me a huge confidence boost to know I had done this so many times before with one less thing to worry about.

Just past seven miles, I passed Kris one more time. Ever the eager fan, she was yelling out compliments with the camera pressed to her face, taking pictures the entire time. She was a trooper, biking from spot to spot, cheering on our group and many of the other runners. Many groups of fans were sad to see her support move on to the next spot. Sadly, she was unable to meet me again on the course. I really enjoyed seeing her. It was hard not to think how important she and everyone else will be for the Ironman.

Around mile 9, the lead marathoner at that time passed me, followed two minutes later by the eventual winner. At that point, they were about seven miles ahead of us, and were just about to break away from us half-marathoners for the second time. They were running really, really fast.

At the next water station, I took the Gu packet out and gulped it down with some water. Within a minute, I could feel the effects and was able to pick up my pace. At the 10-mile mark with a 5K left to go, I could feel the under two-hour goal within reach. Everything was on track. I started to pass lots of people, keeping the stride as short as possible, and letting things all hang out. It was nothing but clear sailing all the way to the finish line, crossing it, and getting my finisher's medal. Everything went so well, it was nearly anticlimactic. I crossed the line 1:56:35 after the gun went off, and 1:55:34 after I crossed the starting line. Everyone had a successful day, enjoying brats at the World's Largest Bratfest, listening to the half-marathon winners' times put ours to shame.

I'm touch sore in my right calf and hip, but overall feeling really good. I can't complain coming in five minutes under my goal time. Next up is my first triathlon June 19 in Verona.

Executive Summary
2004: 51:15, Weight: 210.
2005: 40:48, Weight 180.
2005 mile splits: 8:43/8:36/8:07/7:43/7:04

Report
I ran this race last year in 51:15, dragging the last mile or so. A lot has changed since then. For starters, thirty pounds have disappeared from my frame. I've also put in more hours running in the past four months that I have previously in my entire life. Many friends were expecting a dramatic increase in performance. So was I, but I wasn't holding my breath. Anything around 45:00 would be acceptable. My running mate (and sister) Beth and I agree to float the first mile with the crowd, settle for two miles, and then kick it in to gear for the last two.

The forecast called for a mix of snow and rain, with high winds. Thankfully, none of that showed up race morning. We started off with Beth's roommate Polly for about ten feet. That's when Polly turned around and said, "See you at the end!", and, with a wave, was gone. (Polly finished in a speedy 37:54.) Beth and I continued on with the other frauds that seeded themselves at the 5:30/mile pace. As a result, the true runners were slicing and dicing through the slower crowd. The first mile is the best of the course. It winds around the Capitol Square and then down State Street towards the heart of campus. State Street is downhill, so you get to see thousands of runners' heads bobbing along while Library Mall and Bascom Hill loom in the foreground. That's when runner 4198 passed us, breathing heavily, her feet stomping the pavement with a furious force. The way her race was shaping up, Beth and I agreed we'd see number 4198 again. My Forerunner beeped the first mile just a touch ahead of the posted mark, 08:39. That pace is a touch quick, but I'm still feeling good. So is Beth, and we settle in according to our plan and continue to Observatory Drive and mile 2.

It doesn't take much to figure out how Observatory Drive got its name. It's the highest point on campus, so they put an observatory on top. Trouble is, we're at the bottom near lake level, and need to get to the top. The drive winds its way up the hill, and teases you with a slight downhill, before cresting at the observatory. The view of Lake Mendota and Picnic Point is quite thrilling, but not so much after just running up the hill. I took a quick glance, and prepared for the downhill. My research into running has instructed me to lean forward, shorten my stride and let gravity help me down the hill. So I tried it, and it's not so bad. That shortened stride thing works well. At the bottom of the hill, the GPS beeped just a touch more before the 2-mile mark, 8:26. The course seems a bit long, but we're still well below the 45:00 goal.

Mile 3 runs flat by the lake. Beth continues to run on my shoulder, but I can see her face start to look a bit distressed. We covered mile 3 in 8:07. At the time, I didn't realize we were descending the miles, but it did feel a bit fast. It was just after the mile mark that we saw our friendly runner, #4198. She was fading fast. I let Beth know I was kicking it in, but she stayed back and continued on the current pace.

Mile 4 starts with the only water station on the course. I skipped it, knowing that I was well hydrated. (I peed four times before we even left for the start.) For some reason, I shortened my stride. I didn't know what this would do to my pace, by from my bike rides, I knew that a higher cadence is easier to maintain, and sometimes results in a faster overall speed. Sure enough, I cruised along, picking up speed, recognizing more and more shirts as I passed them. I never did count my steps, but I bet it was over ninety per minute. Mile 4 whizzed by in 7:43.

The last mile is a killer for the untrained runner. Most of it runs uphill, and right after the final turn, there's a small bump just big enough to take any wind out of your sails. From there on in, it's smooth sailing around the outside of Camp Randall Stadium, under the seats and to the 50-yard line. I stopped my watch at 40:45, the chip had me officially at 40:48. I covered the final mile in 7:04. My course length was 5.07 miles; a true 8K is 4.97. Beth finished in 42:50, beating her goal, too.

Overall, thirty pounds and a heaping helpful of training do wonders for running. Next up is the Mad-City half marathon, May 29.

Yowza! Working out with intensity is a whole different ballgame. I ran this morning in a bit of a chill: 40° and a slight wind. After ten sluggish minutes, I ran hard for fast/slow five times for a minute each for a total ten minutes. Talk about shocking the system. After thirteen weeks of a steady, simple pace, going fast felt unfamiliar. And my muscles didn't like it either. It took until the third interval until my body started going with the flow.

My Forerunner has the capability to load complex workouts like this one. I only have to listen to it beep, then look at the screen. It tells me what to do and for how long. Before each interval, it counts down for five seconds and for some reason, hearing it made me chuckle. It was my body laughing at my mind. "Are you kidding me? We have to run hard? Again? Are you sure that was a full minute of rest?" Funny thing about the mind. It always wins. We kept running.

The five intervals didn't take too long, and I was back running my base pace for the rest of the workout. My mind said that we were going a comfortable speed, but my body kept telling me it was a bit fast. (At this point, anything above a walk was probably too fast.) I finished the remaining forty minutes to round out the hour, covering 6.66 miles. I stretched, but my legs are going to be sore. I can already feel it.

Some banner things happened today. First, I went on an unexpected run. I wore a heart-rate monitor for information purposes. It said that I was working out at about 190 bpm, which is awfully high. I can remember maintaining that type of heart rate for several sets when swimming in high school, so maybe it's okay.

Checking in with the scale confirmed awesome news. I weighed 198.2 lbs. Just over 15 pounds lost in 14 days. Anybody that says these diets are a fad most likely are the ones who need to try it out. I'm hooked, and after reading the book, I'm going to extend the strict phase another week to see if I can keep shedding the weight at the same pace.

Kris & I made some major purchases in bikes. I stuck with the Giant TCR even though Erik's had a sweet Specialized. Price made a difference here. Goin with the TCR allowed me to go with a really nice set of shoes for the cost of the Specialized alone. And Kris absolutely fell in love with the Specialized Roubaix (Say it: roo-bay') and its smooth ride. She loved it so much, I think she would've left me if we didn't go back and get the last one in her size. Thoughtfully, the clerk "hid" the bike in the display window so it would be there if we came back.

Now completely outfitted, we toured around Lake Monona on a nice 14.8 mile ride to complete my first two-a-day.

A banner day! The 200-pound plateau has been breeched, if only so slightly. 199.7! When I first focused on the numbers, it scared me a bit to see all the high numbers, but the very little first one made the difference. I know the scale is just teasing me, but it's fun to see.

Also exciting is the looseness of pants and shorts that haven't been worn since Day 1. The belt is even feeling a bit looser. It's days like today that makes all that baby spinach taste so good. The run this morning was a nice cruise with an awesome sunrise over Lake Monona.

I'm also proud to say that last night, I faced adversity and didn't flinch. Both at dinner and out with friends, I had the opportunity for a beer, and I was able to maintain my strength.

I ran again this morning. Felt good.

204.6 lbs. on the scale.

I ran to the park and back this morning. I was a bit more tired than I should be. I don't know if it was the up-tempo music, or the guy that passed me. When he did, I felt a bit of competitiveness take over and raise my pace, which was fine as long as the guy was in front of me. He wasn't on the way back and I paid for it. It was also really humid.

206.6 on the scale for a total of 7.0 pounds gone. Feels damn good.

The first thing I've noticed about being on the diet is the lack of sleepiness after meals. There's no downtime where the eyelids droop and drool creeps from the lips. I feel a nice, steady level of energy all day. It's quite refreshing.

Also, did-ya-know to keep the low/non-fat foods tasty, manufacturers add sugar? So, when eating "low-fat" foods, you actually take in more sugary carbs, which get stored as fat if you don't use them. And most of us don't use them. That's why our "low-fat" foods are actually getting us fatter.

I ran to the park and back today. It hurt. I don't think standing all day at the PGA on Friday and the Beer Fest Saturday helped too much.

Yesterday was The Crazylegs Classic. Fifteen of us from work signed up to participate, and although some dropped out, a good group competed. Overall, there were 12,200 participants. I completed the course in 51:15 officially and finished 5589^th. Slower than in the past, but I'm also carrying a small child. There were many kids running along with their parents, and most weighed about the 30 pounds that I have hanging around my waist.

The funniest moment came during the third mile, when a women starts talking on her cellphone, most likely to her kids whom must have commented on her laboring run, "Okay, you guys just keep talking, and I breathe heavily into the phone."

I am proud to day that I ran the entire course (even though my mind kept telling me to walk), I'm not that sore, and I look forward to participating in some more runs this summer.

I ran Tuesday and haven't since. It's now two weeks until Crazylegs. I had some great inspirations of being svelte around this time, but it seems like my life has gotten in the way.

Same old thing, but this time the wife ran along. The morning run was marked by muskrats (or some other water creature), enjoying a breakfast of weeds left behind by the ice fishermen. Saw three total.

I ran again today, risking injury to my stomach still recovering from the festivities from the night before.

My first real effort in running on my own and my shins hurt with the first step. My ankles were sore all night, and will be tomorrow. Let's hope they hold up through basketball.

I ran ten minutes twice with a five minute walk halfway through.

I went with the wife for the first run. It went well. My arches, or lack thereof, were especially annoying, but I've got some supports that may help. All in all, it was about 10 minutes of warm-up running, with another 20 or so of the real stuff. With some brief walks interspersed throughout, a 45 minute total workout.