And not just for this:
Thursday, September 29, 2011
And not just for this:
Thursday, September 15, 2011
Anyway, here is my post from the RKF blog:
I’ll save you the dramatic suspense of the race; i.e. what I ate pre-race, swim strategy, watts on the bike, run splits and all the shenanigans that I sometimes pay a little too much attention to. All I’ll say is that all race long, I just felt like I was on a good day. I believe George Hincapie once referred to those days on a bike as “no chain”. That explained my race perfectly Sunday. It felt like I was pedaling the bike with no chain. It was effortless. I will say in cliché fashion that winning the race felt a whole lot like it did when I was 2nd on the results sheet, or 28th, or just a couple pages down the results list. After the race, however, was a different story. My family was there, and it was nice to finally check off that bucket list item of “Winning Cajunman” with them in attendance. However, Elyse conveniently missed the Cajunman start, race, and finish. A couple people asked if I was mad or grumpy that she missed it. This is where I’ll have to reality check all you type-A triathletes. Newsflash: We run around in Lycra with helmets that look like they came off of the movie “Spaceballs”. A non-triathletes view of every race is the same;
The start looks like a flock of ducks trying to land. Then you frantically put on said Spaceballs helmet, mount your bike and disappear for a pre-determined length of time (you always give her an estimated time that would put you in the start house of the Tour de France Prologue TT, because if you were honest with her she may think she has time to go get breakfast). You fly into the transition area while trying to undo feet from shoes like a kindergarten shoe tying lesson, then off on the run. Finally, you run in the shoot with your hands raised like you tackled a gorilla, climbed Everest, or want everyone to admire your freshly shorn armpits. And if all this “excitement” for said spectator isn’t enough, they get to stand next to you like a puppy waiting for a treat while you and your buddies relive every inch of the course like it was an Epic battle slated for a made for TV movie.
So yeah, I have no clue why she wouldn’t want to be a part of that. Seriously, I told her it was cool to miss it, as she sacrifices and helps me out enough to accept and encourage me to get out the door daily for training. Sometimes we get so wrapped up in the selfish view “Look what sacrifices I MAKE getting up early to train”, we forget that training = tired post training. Tired post training = minimal movement and general avoidance of all chores. And to come back to that encouragement part, Elyse’s favorite motivational speech goes something like: “Don’t be a little bi@tch. Go run. Don’t run for you. Run so I don’t have to hear you whine later about not running.” That’s a motivational nugget of gold, right there.
Back to the race, I would like to thank Rusty Bex and his big entourage of volunteers that make Cajunman possible. It is one of the longest standing races in Louisiana, if not the south, and such an icon in the Louisiana multisport world. Just now I thought about how many people have used Cajunman as a catalyst for fitness, or as a challenge to get them off the couch and motivated, or simply as an excuse to go outside and train with their buddies. That’s a lot of lives, and paying it forward. I’d also like to give a thanks to the evil Dr. Jones for helping me accomplish that bucket list item of Cajunman. Thanks for that, and scheduling a ride after Cajunman. Nothing like starting the bike at noon! Also a big shout out to Lisa at Capitol Cyclery for that beautiful speed concept, and the Run bird at Mizuno for making some super sweet run slippers.
Now all that’s left for 2011 is that little Iron distance race October 8th. As my favorite contestant from “Rock of Love” says, “Don’t threaten me with a good time.”
Thanks for reading.
Sunday, September 4, 2011
Well, to be totally honest I am a procrastinator. I have been meaning to write my race report from IM Texas for about three months. Well, as it turns out I never did get around to it. You know those last 2 miles of that run in The Woodlands I started to think about all of the people that I was gonna thank. I was thinking of all my peeps that were coming with me to Kona. In truth, there’s no way that I could thank everyone that has helped get me here nor is there any way that everyone that has played a role in my success could make it out to the big island to see me race. So after pondering it a bit, and some prodding from my mom (who is a future New York Times bestselling author) and wife, I’ve decided to just write about my experiences on my journey to Kona. This will serve as a few things. From a selfish standpoint, it’ll help me remember this most excellent but also most crazy journey. And from a different standpoint, it’ll allow me to take you along for the ride. All the good, the bad, and the comical. Since I know putting in public will put some solid pressure on me to perform, I’m planning to blog 2-3 posts a week up until race week. Then race week, it will probably be every day. Anyway, I hope you enjoy the show.
Elyse and I have a very good understanding of the racing season. And by understanding, I really mean that she has the tolerance of a Tibetan monk. See, her dad is a triathlete, trail runner, and general crazy endurance person. So just like daughters of hunters who think guys being gone from November to January is totally acceptable, Elyse thinks that training hard 10-11 months out of the year is, well, normal. So when we talk about races coming up, there is always concern for where on the calendar the X falls. See, the X dictates when play time is over and it’s now time to make training, recovery, and big training priority. Before the X, it’s all fun and sun, mixed with coffee rides and crazy good food. After the X is 9pm bedtime, endless 2-a-days, and an obsessive familiarity with the Loseit! App on the iPhone. So the X for Kona fell on August 13t. That date sticks in my mind like the day I found out that my mini mullet wasn’t as cool as I thought it was. The past 3 ½ weeks have been pretty much summed up by the words: train/rest/train/eat/sleep/repeat. Not that the routine is a bad thing, it just gets a bit mind numbing at times. There is a part of me, however, that craves the routine. That X dictates my life. It’s that X that has me sitting in a car en route to the training Mecca of Minden, LA. Yeah, you heard me right. That X reminded me that the race is approaching, so I evacuated ahead of Tropical Storm Lee to higher ground. As womanish as it sounds, I evacuated so I could make sure the 5 hours of bike training got done. And I made sure it got done outside in the sun, as opposed to inside on the trainer or in 65mph winds. The trade-off to the training retreat is that there may be a “few” more hills than what the swamp has. Regardless of the hills, it’s funny how an approaching race helps us justify ridiculous decisions. 3 hours each way in a car and a hotel stay just to get in that long ride? Well, of course. The race is coming. Fly out to Tucson so we can rack up big hours in the sun instead of indoors? Certainly, the race is coming. And it seems that the closer race day slides toward us, the larger amount of stupidity, I mean leeway, we give ourselves. Uh, the race is only two weeks away, I DEFINITELY need new shifter and brake cables. No wait, while I’m changing the cables we should just go ahead and replace the shifters and derailleurs. I mean, the race IS coming up you know. Ah the lunacy. In the end, I’m still convinced that Ironman makes you a bit crazy. And with that, let the craziness begin.