KONA

Hot hot hot. As I was walking to our rented condo to get another load of bags to put in our rented car for the trip to the airport, Iran into another Kona competitor who finished his 16th World Championship on the same day that I finished my first. I asked him about the wind and the heat. He said that the wind has always been unpredictable, and that this year was nothing remarkable. The heat was all together different. It was the hottest he had ever experienced.

Before, I get to the race, or perhaps I should say the experience, because any idea of a race ended for me about 20 miles north of Kona as I headed back from Hawi on the bike leg, let me give you some details of the best vacation I’ve ever had.

Polly and I had plenty of time to plan for this trip. I qualified for the Ironman World Championship, (I’ll refer to it as Kona from now on) at Ironman Wisconsin 2008, 13 months ago. Her skills acquired as a travel agent several decades ago have not diminished, and she found us the perfect condo in Kailua Kona. It was about a kilometer from the race start and featured a lani, (deck) above the ocean. When sitting in our living room, looking out the window it seemed as though we were in the Pacific.

When I got off the plane, a week to the day before the race, the humidity amazed me. It felt heavy. I was inhaling water. I immediately drove to the bike shop to which my Trek TTX SL was shipped, and then headed to the condo to set up race central. That evening, I had dinner with John Post, my coaching client and Kona mentor and Bob Scott, the legendary Ironman. Bob has held several Kona age group records, and is still looking great and going strong at age 78. The three of us with a combined age of 201 years drove up to Waimea for great barbecue the next evening. We met an old friend of John’s, Lindsay Barnes, who is the headmaster of Hawaii Prep, and who as a volunteer handed me a bottle of water at the Hawi turn around during the race.

It was amazing to see the spirit of Kona build over the week. Driving from the airport on Saturday, I saw one or two bike riders, no runners and several signs warning drivers about athletes training on the Queen K. By the following Thursday, 2 days before the race, there was a steady stream of cyclists on the Queen K. Ali’i drive was sleepy the day I arrived; on Friday, the day before the race, as Polly and I strolled back from our morning swim, the street was brimming with some of the most amazing and intimidating bodies I have ever seen. The finish line, including a massive 3 screen jumbotron was under construction. Men and women pros were being interviewed and participating in photo shoots for their endorsers. What had been a sleepy tourist strip had been transformed into a Felliniesque festival.

My routine during the week was pretty regular, an early morning swim in Kailua Bay followed by a visit to the massage tent, breakfast, and then a ride along the Queen K (major portion of the bike course). Some days included short runs after the bike. It was a bit unnerving riding along the apron of the Queen K. Traffic was constant and fast, and with the cross winds at times blowing me into the rumble strip that separated the apron from cars, the rides were often a bit uncomfortable. I felt very strong with surprisingly high wattage for me, (230’s) at IM pace efforts. The heat was intense all week, but I was adapting. I felt great.

Polly arrived on Thursday, and the pre-race excitement really began to build. We strolled around downtown Kona, and I was able to buy yet another Kona t-shirt. I think I now have the world’s largest collection. I pointed out all the Ironman celebrities, and Polly was completely unimpressed. On Friday morning, she went swimming with me in Kailua Bay, and later that evening, we had a nice pre-race dinner with Curtis and Sue Weinstein who flew to Kona to watch me do the race. As arduous racing may be, watching it is perhaps more difficult. Polly, Sue and Curtis hung in for the whole day.

Okay, here it is...the race. I had my usual two Ensures at 1am, tossed and turned until 4am, and got up to chug another. The bike and transition bags had been checked in the previous evening with remarkable ease. All I had to do was pull on my trisuit, gather my swim goggles, skinsuit and sports drinks and head to the transition area. Polly kept me focused, and waited patiently for me to get body marked and pump up my tires. I gave her the pump, and headed back in to transition. I wouldn’t see her for another 8 hours.

I forgot to hand her my ipod, but fortunately ran into Jennifer Takata, my doctor, and an accomplished veteran of Kona who had come down to watch her friend Michelle Lanouette compete. She generously held on to it for me, and returned it to me back in Racine. Serendipitously, later that day, Sue and Curtis were standing on the “hot corner” waiting for me to come out of T1 when they started talking to a woman at the same spot. After a few minutes of conversation, they learned that she was from Wisconsin, and was there to watch a friend. When they said they were there for the same reason, and mentioned my name, Jennifer let them know that she was my physician. It’s a strange world.

I felt very calm and confident. Everything including my swimming had been going remarkably well. I was not afraid of the heat. I couldn’t wait to get started. I can’t quite remember the order of the following events, but there was a distinctly Hawaiian version of the National Anthem, Navy Seals dropped out of the sky, and the canon went off for the pro start. They began the race 15 minutes before the rest of us. At the sound of their start canon, I eased down to the water and stood watching for a while before I paddled out to the start line. To avoid the battering of faster swimmers rolling over me, I seeded myself about 50 yards behind the line. When the canon went off for the age groupers, I began swimming steadily but easily. After a few hundred yards, I picked up the pace. At the same time another swimmer went by me. I latched on to his feet, (not literally, but drafted behind him). For the first 7/8’s of the race we continually passed other swimmers. As we did so, each would try to get in the draft of the swimmer I was following. I kept saying to myself, “those are my feet.” At times, I would have to be quite aggressive in maintaining my position. A few hundred yards from the finish, “my feet” slowly vanished as their owner picked up his pace. I was sure that I was completing the fastest ironman swim ever. When I exited the water, I was shocked to find that it was in fact the slowest by about a minute, at 1 hour and 19 minutes. I have no explanation. Perhaps relying on the pace of the swimmer in front of me was a mistake. Lessons learned.

During the swim, I was a bit miffed at one of the kayakers who placed his boat in the middle of the swimming pack. As I tried to maintain my position, I was a bit nervous about being slammed by the hull. It was only after two minutes of concern that I realized that it was not a kayak, but a dolphin frolicking with these slow moving thrashers. The amazing thing about the swim at Kona is the amount of sea life that is visible during the race. Especially in the shallows, the colorful fish are teeming.

The 8 minute difference between my best time, and what I swam was not of great concern. The chaffing that was caused by my skinsuit was. 20 minutes into the swim, my neck and under arms were feeling the effects. I still have scabs in both places 10 days after the race. Fortunately, vaseline and the protective wing, (a white garment that had sleeves connected by a thin shoulder covering) minimized the discomfort from these abrasions during the race.

T1 was the site of the first Dicker Dufus move. I headed out of the changing tent without the skull cap that was supposed to protect my tonsorially challenged head from the sun. I realized too late that I had forgotten it. When I went back to get it, my bag had all ready been thrown into a sorting pile. Not even the expert help of my friend and savvy volunteer John Post was able to locate the bag. Oh well, the racing striped sun burn on my head was a badge of honor.

The first 65 miles of the bike were perfect. I kept to my wattage plan, and if anything, felt like I should be going harder. I knew it was hot. I kept dumping water on my head and arm coolers constantly, and stuck with what I thought was my conservative approach. My running was going well in training, and I wanted to make sure that I left enough in the tank to take advantage of that training. A modest wind was in our face all the way out to Hawi. It was less than I had experienced on any training day. I was looking forward to a supporting tail wind back to Kona after the turn around. FOOL! I had heard about the Mumuku, “the wind that blows both ways.” But, we all know that those urban or in this case island legends are pure BS. I was sure that I was on my way to a great day. I rolled down the 7 miles that I had climbed up to Hawi. I was flying, at least for me. I certainly wasn’t passed by anyone. Then, just as the road flattened out, it hit me in the face, a rude and unexpected slap.

At times on the way back to Kona, I was was in the small ring up front and the 25 in the rear cog set while riding downhill. I kept pushing, and kept cooling by dumping water on my head, arms and back. I picked up two bottles at every aid station for the purpose of external cooling. It was about 20 miles outside of Kona that my race was over. I suddenly realized that If I had any hope of finishing the, I had to shut it down. Until that moment, I actually thought that with a great race, I might have a chance to be 5th in my age group. No chance for that now. I took it very easy for the rest of the ride. As I crested the hill marking the entrance to the airport, the wind let up a bit, and made the last few miles a bit easier.

I actually ran through T2, a long way, all around the entire pier. I slathered my feet with Vaseline, pulled on my running shoes and headed up Palani. After a right turn on to Kuakini, I saw Polly, Sue and Curtis. Polly yelled, “you’re in 7th, come on, pick it up.” I smiled and told her the day was pretty much done. I was shuffling, and knew that was the pace for the rest of the day. Wrong again. As I turned to head back down to Ali’i drive to make my way out to the 5 mile turn around, I could not believe that I had not yet reached the first aid station. I was dying for some ice to put down my singlet. I started walking and finally made it to the first of the 25 aid stations manned by the fabulous volunteers. I stuffed my singlet, hat and shorts with ice, and tried to start shuffling again. I made it about 100 yards to the base of a hill and started walking. This was the closest to the edge I have ever been in a race. I was extremely overheated. At each aid station I managed to shuffle a bit further after the ice stuffing frenzy. By mile 8, I could run almost a kilometer before walking. At that point I was almost back to the spot that Polly, Sue and Curtis were waiting for me. When I saw her, I told Polly that they were going to have a long wait before they saw me again at the finish. She walked along with me for a while, and it was a big lift. I turned back on to Palani for the long climb up to the Queen K. No question about running up that monster. When I reached the top, I had about 15 miles to go. When I reached the infamous Natural Energy Lab, the hottest spot on the course, the sun was almost down. There’s a silver lining to every cloud.

Before that, as I headed out the Queen K, a guy with my colored wrist band, (the colors of the bands identified the age group of the competitor.) walked by me as I was stuffing ice. I caught up to him in a few strides. Steve Brown is from Perth, Australia, and was in the process of completing his fourth ironman of the year. His day like mine had not gone according to plan, but, for the next 14 miles we walked, jogged and finally ran to the finish together. We shared our training histories, and the huge debts that we owed to our wives for what they had to put up with. At the finish, Polly and Helen actually met each other. I probably walked more than I had to at that point, but time was really no longer a consideration. Those last miles were much more manageable and pleasurable because of the conversation with Steve.

While running down Palani with about a mile and a half to go, I asked Steve to help me pull off the protective wing that spared my arms and shoulders from the sunburn that seared my legs and head. I explained that even though my race time was not what I had hoped it would be, that I was going to get a great finish photo for the effort that I had put in. About 400 yards from the finish, I tossed my wing and the glow ring into the bushes and prepared for the finish. Evidently, in the 2 minutes between that toss and the finish line, I forgot what I was about. This last picture is worth a thousand words. DUFUS! LOOK UP!

At the finish, I told Polly that even though I had signed up for Lake Placid next year, that I was officially done with Ironman. I never thought I would qualify for Kona. I did, and I finished even though it took me 13 hours, 7 minutes and 15 seconds, more than 90 minutes slower than what I had hoped. By the next morning, I was planning my return to Kona. I learned more in this race than I have in any other. But, that’s another story for my new blog.

Polly is a saint. The different versions of me that she has had to get to know and put up with are absurd. She hangs in, supports me and allows me to keep on going. The happiness and peace I have achieved is largely due to her, “the genius of everyday life.” I would also like to thank Curtis and Sue for coming out to share the experience with Polly and me. It helped make Kona even more special. Of course without the effort that Adam Zucco, my coach, put in, not only to focus my training, but to deal with my constant questions, I would never have completed my first ironman, let alone qualified for this one. Kathy Howell kept treating my different muscular and skeletal issues while Heidi Fannin worked to keep my soft tissues soft. My thanks to both of them. Finally, I want to thank John Post for all the information and support both before and after we landed on Hawaii together.

And, I certainly thank anyone who has managed to keep reading to this point.

ROAD TO KONA

Okay, okay....so it’s not me. But I can ride a bike.

It’s been a long time since my last post. Before I recount the highs and lows of the Ironman World Championship at Kona, I thought it might be a good idea to give a brief synopsis of the training year leading up to the big day. Skip this if you are the type that likes to turn to the last page of a novel. It will still be here after I post the story of Hawaii.

I previously described my first race of the year at Oceanside. I beat my previous time, but only came in 7th. Following that race, I went down to Portsmouth, Ohio in late May to do my 4th Triple T. That’s the 4 triathlons in one weekend that together total a full ironman distance. I did well, but not exceptionally so. The weather was cooler than usual, and I managed to hold my dufus moves down to a single boneheaded instance. I forgot to pack socks for the afternoon olympic distance race and ran without them., I managed to produce abrasions on both feet within the first mile of the run. Massive foot binding with gauze at the first aid station allowed me to walk and jog it in with Tom Geldermann who caught me as I was finishing the application of my vaseline poultice.

With the end of the school year, training picked up significantly, and it went well. My confidence grew with better and better running workouts. My next race was the Kansas 70.3. It was a great experience. I stayed with Ben Schloegel, an amazing athlete who lives in KC. We had great barbecue and a lot of fun. I came in second in my age group behind Steve Smith, probably the best American in the 60-64 age group. It wasn’t a close second, but it was a new 70.3 record for me at 5:24. I also got a hug from Chrissie Wellington as I crossed the line. So did everyone else that crossed the line after her. If you don’t know who Chrissie is, that’s her next to me. If you’re interested in why she’s amazing, email me, and I’d be happy to tell you and point you to websites that might be helpful in informing you about this amazing woman who happens to be the best triathlete on the planet.

Training continued going well. In late June, I competed at the Bigfoot olympic distance triathlon held at the Lake Geneva end of Geneva Lake. (Don’t ask about this inversion.) I won my age group, although my run was disappointing. Two races, Kansas and Bigfoot, and no major blunders. Training was going well, and I could feel my fitness and confidence rising.

In late July, I was back at the starting line of the Spirit of Racine. The trademark vigilant World Triathlon Corporation will not allow any event to use the term Ironman. So these half and full ironman distance races that are not part of WTC or pay WTC for the privilege have the odd sounding “full distance” or “half distance” descriptor after their names. Incidentally, the Spirit of Racine is rumored to be entering the fold, and will be a Ironman 70.3 next year, (70.3 being the total swim, bike and run miles of a half ironman). Anyway, this was a good race for me, everything, or almost everything went according to plan. I was under 5 hours for the first time in a half ironman. Unfortunately, the swim was a bit short. The one thing that did not go according to plan was the swim preparation. As I was talking to Bill and Jenny Schmitt, I tried to pull my wetsuit on my jamming my leg through the arm hole. I shredded the wetsuit, and had to swim with a gaping hole under my arm. It’s always something.

My final race of the year was a local sprint. I won both my age group and the one below me even though I had a usual dufus blunder. This time, I forgot to pack my running shoes, and had to do the 5k in my sandels. At least I didn’t get any blisters.

I was feeling great, and continued to train hard for the next 6 weeks leading up to the world championship.

In a couple of days, I’ll post the description of Kona.

SORRY

First of all, I’m sorry for doing this.  I have never asked friends for a donation before.  But this project got to me on a couple of levels.

Year after year I have been solicited by friends for their charities.  I usually come through.  Many of them have been in the form of solicitations that state they are doing a ride, a run, a triathlon to raise money for -----.  Let me say that I am competing in The Ironman World Championship in Kona for myself.  As my sainted wife Polly describes my life, “It’s   all about me.”  But after hearing about Puppies Behind Bars  http://www.puppiesbehindbars.com  I decided to give the race fundraising idea a try.

Back to the ways the puppies got to me.  Polly trains therapy dogs and brings them to nursing homes to cheer up the residents.  It works believe me.  She also brings them to reading programs to sit and listen to children read who might otherwise be intimidated to read before other children or adults.  Not only is Puppies a great effort all on its own, but it resonates with me because of her work.  It also uniquely redeems both the giver and receiver.   You see, 8 week old puppies are given to people incarcerated for serious violent crimes.  They are taught to train these dogs to help veterans who have traumatic brain injuries or have suffered extreme psychological damage.  The prisoners become more human as a result of their connection to the animals.  The soldiers who receive the dogs are able to make a loving relationship that they seem incapable of developing with other humans. They are twice blessed.

If you can, I would really appreciate any donation you can make to this effort.  They have their own donation page, or you can go to my Facebook cause page   Click Here   and click on the donate link above the comment box.  Please feel free to tell me what jerk I am, especially if you give a couple of bucks.

Feel free to forward this to any dog lovers who might be suckered into giving something.  The puppies always get them.

I also promise never ever to do this again.  

Who Are Those Guys?

Sitting here at San Diego Airport with the SoCal sun streaming in I can hardly feel the saddle sore acquired in yesterday’s California 70.3. This is one of the two great U.S. triathlon centers, the other of course is Boulder. CO. This morning driving down from Oceanside, the site of the race, I must have passed at least 500 cyclists and literally thousands of runners doing their pre or post outdoor coffee house exercise. I’m green with envy.

You can read about the competition won by Matt Reid, (a 1:11 half marathon!!!) and Mirinda Carfrae on any number of sites, I’ll just stick to a description of the course and the day. It started off quite chilly, about 46 degrees which made the 56 degree water seem inviting. The swim left from the harbor at Oceanside and took a dogleg out to the ocean and back. Evidently, I was worried about the possibility of enemy submarines as I zigzagged my way for about 1.5 miles of the 1.2 mile course. On the way back in, the sun was a problem. I had a big problem finding the buoys. Andy Potts avoided this problem on his way to setting a course swim record of 21:27.

The air temperature made some upward progress as the swimmers came ashore. The bike leg’s most technical part was right at the beginning as the athletes made their way out of the marina and up to the roads that lace through Camp Pendelton. Sharp turns and quick climbs kept the riders alert. The gently rolling hills and flats encountered a major shift at about mile 30 when in the distance what appeared to be a relatively long slope with hundreds of ants crawling up it loomed in the distance. They weren’t ants; and there was nothing relative about about the slope. Just as you thought you were reaching the summit, the road curved and continued up. It was there that you came upon some walkers, all men in my case. It’s probably the length of the hill and not the slope that got to them. It was a tough hill, but nothing like the legendary Beast of St. Croix. There were some more steep hills through about mile 40, but at this point it was the wind that played a greater part in slowing forward progress. It was on one of these hills that I felt a friendly tap as Adam Zucco of TrainingBible coaching passed me on his way to a first place finish in the impossibly competitive 30-34 age group. (Obviously he was in a wave that started about 40 minutes behind me.) Finally, it was back to the marina, T2, and the start of the run.

There were two surprising aspects to the two loop half marathon. The first occurred at the beginning and happened three more times. The runners had to get off the road and run on the beach around a condo development. The soft sand between the road and the harder sand near the water made for a real trudge. The competitors got to experience and think about this sandy march as they went out and back and out and back. The other surprise was the hilly course that sprung up on a beach and town run. Just before mile 2 and 8 of the run, the course took a sudden turn up into a residential area of Oceanside. The turn was a short steep climb, from that point on it was up and down to the turn around. Those expecting or hoping for flat run along the water were disappointed.

With the exception of the chilly start, the day was perfect. For those coming from the chilly regions of the U.S. and beyond competing with the sub-species evolved in California presented a daunting challenge. Who are those guys? This was the most competitive race in which I’ve competed. This includes, Vineman 70.3, IM Louisville, and IM Wisconsin. If you want to see where you stand in the grand scheme of US Triathlon, this is the race for you. I was 7th of 24 in my ancient 60-64 age group, this, after breaking the course record for that age group in Wisconsin by 34 minutes. Who are those guys?

IRON WISCONSIN 2008

I had a good day at Ironman Wisconsin on September 7. I won my age group, qualified for Kona and broke the course record for my age group by 34 minutes. Okay, all the suspense is gone. Polly has always told me not to bury the lead. If you’re interested in the details, please read on.

Toward the end of July and beginning of August, I was beginning to feel optimistic about my chances for two reasons. My long rides were going well, and I honestly thought that I could go faster than the record time for my age group. At that time, I mentioned this to my coach Adam Zucco, and asked him to keep it quiet in the likely event that I was deluding myself.

As the day of the race approached, weather reports began to look sour. Chances of rain were increasing, and projected temperatures were dropping. Flashbacks to the horrible conditions of the 2006 IM Wisconsin filled my head. My whining was increasing in direct proportion to the sinking weather reports. Polly made fun of me and called me a whimp…a shocking characterization.

The day turned out to be perfect, although I have heard that some people complained about strong winds on the second loop of the bike. While looking for a place to relax before the start of the swim, I ran into all the Schmitts clustered around Jenny who was about to compete in her first Ironman. I was Jenny’s coach for this event. She trained like a pro all spring and summer, and had a great day finishing well under 13 hours. Tom Geldermann strolled by as we were sitting there. I was also Tom’s coach. His training went well right through the Triple T, and then hit a few speed bumps. He still soldiered on, and finished the race.

Tom and I got in line and headed down for the swim. We swam out to the buoy line and positioned ourselves so as not to be clawed and pushed under by the better swimmers and those overly ambitious athletes that we would be passing later. When the canon went off, I found myself in a Piranha tank. The water came alive with 2300 people all trying to be in the same place at the same time. During the first 1.2 mile loop, I had by goggles knocked off 4 times. In spite of this, I swam easily, and exited the water 3 minutes faster than my previous best effort.

After running up the spiraling traffic ramp to the transition area, I dashed into the convention center and put on my helmet, ran out to my bike and took off on my 112 mile ride through hills of the Madison country side. I can honestly say that I never pushed on the bike. On the bigger hills people tried to encourage me to push to the top. If they had followed my progress to the top, they would have seen me pedaling past those that had passed me going up as they tried to recover. I hardly glanced at my power meter. I just felt that I was in the right effort zone. I was averaging a little over 20 mph until I began the second loop of the course. As the wind picked up from the South, I began to slow down a bit, but it seemed that others were slowing down more. I wasn’t passed on this loop, and when I turned to ride the final 14 miles back to Madison, I saw that my average speed had dropped to 19 mph. The wind pushed me all the way back and pushed my average speed back up to almost 20.

I had another quick transition, (that seemed to be my best event-changing, I was almost twice as fast in T1 and T2 as the others in my age group) and headed out on the first loop of the run course. The run at Ironman Wisconsin is fabulous. It winds back and forth through the campus, even entering Camp Randall for a run around the football field. The crowds are dense and enthusiastic. My first mile was way too fast. I spent most of the first loop telling myself to take it easy. I wanted to run a 4:20 marathon, and felt that 4:30 would be an easy time to make. In the end, I only managed a 4:40, so there’s plenty of room for improvement. Everything was going pretty well until I turned up State Street and headed toward the capitol for the turn around. At that moment I felt a stitch in my side. I used all the tricks that I know to get rid of it, raising my arms, breathing in on the stride of the opposite foot, and explosive breathing out. As the sharp stitch pain began to dull, I noticed that I was beginning to feel some intestinal distress. Unfortunately, this stayed with me for the rest of the run. However, my greatest moment of the day was only moments away. Oona lives on Dayton at a point between the turn around and the 14 mile aid station. Before the race, I had asked her to track my age group on Ironman Live. As I passed her on the run, I yelled “How am I doing in my age group?” She yelled back, “You’re in first place by 40 minutes.” I knew that I could almost walk in from there, and still win, and thus get my spot for Kona. I relaxed, and just lived with the stomach cramps for the rest of the race. Polly must have known how I was doing as I turned around at the capitol because she was chanting Kona, Kona, Kona as I passed her. I crossed the finish line at 11:43:41, faster than I ever imagined I could race.

Unlike the California Half Ironman of 2006, I actually lost my chip this time. As I rode the final 50 miles of the course I yelled my number to every official standing on the side or driving by on a motorcycle. At the bike to run transition, I screamed at every volunteer "I need a chip; where can I get a chip?" It was a little Shakespearean...a chip, a chip, my kingdom for a chip. If I had bothered to read the race brief, I would have known to stop at the run start and ask for one. When I finally arrived there after my paniced screaming, a volunteer calmly strapped a new one to my ankle. Somethings never change.

My friend and client Ben Schloegel did not have the day he wanted, but he learned things that will propel him to the place he deserves to be. When I say he didn't have the day he wanted, we mere mortals need to understand how someone who runs a 3:03 marathon and finishes 12th overall is disappointed. Look for Ben in the Florida Ironman in November. He's going sub 9 hours.

Polly is my number 1 fan and supporter. She’s not that interested in triathlon, but she encourages me to do what I love, and even keeps me on track by reminding me of my goals, when my will begins to falter. She lets me be who I am which always amazes me because I’m such a dufus.

I can’t end this report without thanking Adam Zucco. He has been my coach since I decided to do my first Ironman over 3 years ago. He has had to put up with my constant questions, and suggestions, but in the end, I do what I’m told, and evidently what he’s been telling me to do has worked. I completed my first Ironman. I dropped my time by almost an hour in my second one, and I dropped that time by over 30 minutes in my third. Now, it’s on to the world championships in Kona in October of 2009. The race will be on Polly’s and my 24th wedding anniversary. It should be another good day.

For more images of the day click HERE

Once you arrive at the gallery you can select the way you want to view it at the bottom of the page. If you click on an individual image, you can click on the i that appears below it to see the caption.

YOU GO GIRL

You only do your first Triathlon once. Oona had modest goals for this one. She wanted to finish under 3 hours. She was much closer to 2 hours than to 3. Her attitude was positive all day. If she was nervous, it certainly never showed, not at 5am when we picked her up, and not in the transition area before the swim start.

Rumor has it that she may join the UW Triathlon Club. Whatever she decides to do, I will always be so proud of her for deciding to train and complete her first tri.

To see Oona swim bike and run look HERE.

2008 American Triple T

This is a long self obsessed ramble…..SHOCKING! If you want to skip to the pictures click HERE.

The Triple T (TTT) weekend began on Thursday with a drive down to Henryville, Indiana to pick up Tom Geldermann. We competed as a team last year. As the photos of our home offices demonstrate, we probably lack the similar mindsets that underpin smoothly functioning teams. This year we decided to go solo. We got a late start on Friday morning, but made it to the lodge at Shawnee State Park in plenty of time. That was when things began to come a bit off the rails. It turned out that our reservation was for the next weekend.


I immediately tried my old and inevitably useless tactic of asking “where would you put President Bush should he suddenly show up asking to stay the night?” The indirect answer was a mirthless “We have no vacancies and no cancellations.” Someone later pointed out that the Secret Service would probably pay a registered guest several thousand bucks to take a hike. Being neither presidential nor Warren Buffetian, I accepted the help of sympathetic desk clerks at the lodge, who were able to find a room for us in downtown Portsmouth, Ohio.

Before heading there, we did the Prologue, a short 250 meter swim (more like 350), a sharply ascending and steeply descending, five mile bike ride (more like 4) and a one mile run. It was just a warm up for the weekend’s activities. This short test was the fastest I’d done in the three years I’ve competed at the TTT. Tom took a more conservative approach given our meltdown last year.

As would be the case for the rest of the weekend, we met our two rackmates, Martin Cole and Jerry Donohue during both transitions. However, as he would all weekend, Jerry went on to trounce us all on the run. Before the Prologue began, I ran into Ben Niles of Multisport Madness, and Russell Lane of TrainingBible Coaching. They both went on to have great races all weekend.

The following morning, the first Olympic distance race went pretty well. I was about two minutes slower than 2006, but a little faster than last year. Tom, again playing it conservatively was a few minutes slower than last year. The swim and run are on the same course for all the races. The water was quite cold this year. The reported temperature was 56. It was cold, but I don’t think it was actually that frigid. The morning bike course twists and turns its way through the Shawnee State Park and featured the steepest climb of the weekend, a 14% grade that gradually leveled out to an 8% pitch for the rest of the mile ride to the summit. The run goes up up up and down over a rocky, eroded and very hilly trail that winds through the forest. The weather was perfect, although a bit cold at 45 degrees for the start of the swim. It warmed up to the low 70’s by the end of the first race.

We headed back to the hotel for a nap before the afternoon Olympic. For those not familiar with the distances, an Olympic Triathlon consists of a 1.5 K swim (almost a mile), a 40 K bike (almost 25 miles), and a 10 K run (6.2 miles).

We were a bit groggy as we headed back to the transition area. The afternoon race is the beginning of the team competition in which two person teams are allowed to draft each other on the bike. I must have been groggier than I thought since I arrived in the start line with a flat tire. I managed, even in my building panic, to change the tire in time to start a bit behind my seeded spot. But since we’re timed using an electronic chip around our ankles, no harm was done. I was a little nervous about riding on a new tubular tire that had not be glued down, especially after the unnerving speed wobble that I had experienced during the morning ride. Unconventionally, the afternoon race began with the bike, a straight out and back along the main drag leading to the park. The first 9 miles are generally hilly, but at about mile seven a steep climb begins which is followed by a steep 1.3 mile descent to a 3 mile windy flat out to the turn around. The climb on the way back is a killer.

I had my second scary speed wobble on the big descent. As I passed a guy, I could see the fear in his eyes. I can only imagine what he saw in mine. My bike was shaking so violently while descending at almost 40 mph that I was afraid that the top tube was going to snap. When I got control on the flat portion, I stopped until I stopped shaking and checked everything out. It seemed fine, but I was very conservative on the way back.

Swimming after the bike was a welcome relief last year. It was 93 degrees, and the water was a perfect 74. This year the cold water left me on the verge of cramping the entire swim. As I emerged from the water, I saw the beach and bridge back to transition littered with bodies in various frozen and cramped positions. Some of these competitors had attempted to save time by swimming without their wetsuits. Not a good idea.

I managed to keep running for the entire run course, but my pace was considerably slower than the morning’s effort. I did manage to beat my best time from the previous two years by a couple of minutes. Tom beat our time of last year by minutes as well.

We were pretty tired at this point. So, we drove back to Portsmouth, ate and went to bed.

The next morning we packed up early and headed to the park for the half ironman, a 1.2 mile swim, 56 mile bike, and 13.1 mile run. Hills, hills, hills. I took it easy on the swim, and headed out for the first loop of a two loop bike course. After an easy five miles, we hit the long 1.3 mile switchback climb. This double loop is the most beautiful of the weekend, although I’m not sure that everyone was in the best frame of mind to appreciate it. I was faster on the bike, (although that’s a relative term), than my two previous years. As I started the run, I was tired, but felt pretty good. I intended to finish the event by running the two loop course. However, after the first turn around, I was passed on a steep incline by a guy who was walking. It was time to re-think my plan. I walked up the steep parts for the rest of the day. At mile 12 my IT band began to cause some serious problems. I was forced to walk a considerable portion of the last stretch. Even with the walking, I was amazed that I was 13 minutes slower on the run than 2006. But, with faster swim and bike splits, only 4 minutes slower overall. Tom finished almost 30 minutes ahead of our time from last year.

263 of the 287 who started the Prologue finished the last event. I was fifth out of 15 in the 50+ age group, and around 175 of the 263 finishers. For the third year in a row, I was the oldest person at the race. I will not be the oldest in next year’s race. Three Triple T’s are enough.

For pictures, click HERE.

EASY GROW, EASY GO

Polly has been growing her hair for over a year so that she could have short hair. Huh???

After Lily gave her hair to Locks for Life, Polly decided that giving her hair away would be a great transition to shorter hair. Today was the day.

If you'd like to see additional images of this momentus event, please click HERE.

Wrong Way Dicker

“You are who you are.” Never were truer words spoken. Today might have been the acme of my running life, but alas, it wasn’t to be. Adam, my coach seems to think that there is enormous room for improvement in my running, especially velocity at Lactate Threshold. If you want to know more about that, email me.
























In any case, to improve, we are concentrating on intensity, and entering 2 races, 5k’s and 10k’s, a month. Today was the first effort since my transition from Ironman training. The race was for the benefit of African Children, and was the first event put on by three nurses who are giving their time and love to help disadvantaged children in Africa. The race was around a 2.25 mile track that circumnavigates a man made lake. In order to get the full 5k in, we started in one direction, turned, and were to follow the path around the lake to the finish.

The gun (actually just a guy saying go) went off, and I found myself in second place overall. After the turn, I was about 30 yards behind the leader. As we passed the start, I was holding my 30 yard deficit. Unfortunately, just as the leader passed the start/finish, the path branched with one route headed toward a parking lot next to the lake, and the other headed away form the lake, but looking like a path. He slowed and asked me what I thought. I said, “they said to follow the path,” so we both turned away from the lake, crossed the road, ran around another parking lot, crossed the road again, and ended up back at the lake. At that point, there was another choice to be made. We could either turn and head back to the start/finish line or go around the lake to the left.

Obviously, it made no sense to head back the same way again, unless of course we were in some unpublished play by Sartre. So, now that I was alone in the lead, I turned left to follow the path around the lake. I was in the lead, not just of my age group, but ahead of the massive field of about 100. I passed the only water stop to terrific cheers from the volunteers. I also passed a guy carrying the cones that marked the turn around from the beginning of the race. As I got about half way around the lake, I began to encounter the first runners coming toward me. Ought oh. I was not about to turn around. That would have definitely lead to confusion and a probable disqualification. So, I continued around in my own private, or almost private direction. The original leader was still behind me.

I crossed the finish line after running 3.4 miles instead of the 3.1 that equal 5 kilometers. It was good enough for second place overall. My fellow confused competitor was third overall. The winners time was 23:05. I punched my lap button when my GPS device told me I had completed 3.1 miles. I did that in 22:30 I was actually the fastest overall. The race director was very apologetic. It was a beautiful day, the people were very nice, and working for a great cause, and they gave me the same award (the necking Giraffes that I'm holding in the image above), as the person that was officially declared the winner.

“You are who you are.”

Ironman Louisville

It’s been three weeks since I finished Ironman Louisville, and a week since I signed up for next year’s Ironman Wisconsin...more about IM Wisconsin later.



I was ambivalent about racing as I packed up the car and headed south to meet up with Tom Geldermann who lives across the river from Louisville. Heat has not been my friend in any of the races in which I’ve competed. Two years ago, I dnf’ed at the Racine Half Ironman due to temperatures that reached 103. As I tracked the conditions over the summer, it was looking bleak. Averages were in the high 90’s with several runs of consecutive days over 100 with ridiculous humidity readings. To make things worse, Polly had broken her collarbone and fractured her elbow. Oona was leaving for Paris the day after the race which would have meant that I would not be able to see her off. Both were very generous and insisted that I do the race. Thanks ladies I really appreciate your kindness and support....I think.

When I arrived at Tom’s on the Thursday before the race, the temperature was over 100, although the humidity was not as bad as it had been. Predictions for race day were also improving with a chance that the day might top out at 90. We went for a short ride, and I did not collapse. The next day was just as hot as we drove over the bridge to register for the race. We also went down to the transition area to take a swim in the Ohio River. We learned that the swim course had been changed due to faster than normal current as a result of the heavy rains up stream. Instead of the traditional Ironman start with 2400 swimmers leaving at once, we would now do a time trial start with three swimmers jumping in the water every second. Because everyone wears a timing chip, each athlete gets a true time from when he/she jumps in the water. However, you are not sure what your true position is. So if you pass someone in your age group, (ages are marked on the right calf) you don’t know if you have really passed that person. They might have started the swim way behind or way in front of you. Anyway, instead of swimming around a big rectangle, we were to swim a half mile up stream and then turn around an island and swim 1.9 miles downstream, back to the transition area. When I started my practice swim, it seemed as though I wasn’t moving as I swam up stream. Oh well. Tom and I spent the rest of the day relaxing.

On Saturday morning, we headed back into Louisville to move in to our hotel room at the Galt House. The room was quite nice, and had a great view of the swim course. I noticed that the course hugged the shore, and its curving contour. If, as I rounded the island I stayed out in the middle of the river, and sighted on the first bridge abutment, I could swim in a straight line to the swim exit. It was still hot, but Saturday did not cross the 100 degree barrier. Things were looking up.

Tom and I decided to have an early dinner at Jeff Ruby’s Steakhouse, famous for asking O.J. Simpson to leave during this year’s Derby. I had the best steak I have ever had in my life, and that includes steaks from Smith and Wollensky’s, Peter Luger’s and Sparks’. For those of you who know triathletes, shortly after we sat down, Greg Welch former Ironman World Champion walked in alone. Tom asked him if he’d like to join us. He demurred, saying that he was expecting a large group. He had the staff assemble several tables and sat there alone for most of our time in the restaurant. Tom and I had a great time laughing at the effort Greg took to avoid sitting with us. Finally as we were about to leave, his group began to drift in.
I barely got to sleep before I had to wake up to start the Ensure routine. I drank 3 cans at 1:30 am, and then another at 4:30 am when I got up to leave for the race. We had about a half mile walk to transition, and then another 3/4 miles to the start of the swim. By the time we got to the swim start, the line to enter the water snaked all around the park. We waited for ages until the pros started. They got a 10 minute head start on the rest of the field. Finally, the age groupers jumped in, but It took over 15 minutes from then until I began swimming. I started with a pretty strong effort. It was against the current, and have I mentioned, wetsuits were banned due to the high temperature. It seemed to take forever as I worked my way up the channel between the main shore and that of the island. However, it was a much less violent swim than last year’s IM Wisconsin. The time trial start afforded us a lot of space. As I rounded the end of the island, I realized that I still had another 200 yards to the turn buoy. This was taking forever. I made the turn and started down stream with the current. What a change. My stroke was incredibly long, the stroke I have in my dreams. I stuck to my plan and sighted on the bridge support. I was way out in the middle of the river. Lifeguards in kayaks were moving back so that I could clear them. My plan must have worked since I completed the swim, beating my previous IM time by over 4 minutes. And that was without the aid of a wetsuit.

I felt strong in transition and was quickly out on the bike. I eased into the race for the first 20 minutes, slowly working up to a 200 watt average. The ride was beautiful, starting out along the Ohio, and then working up into horse country. It was a two loop course that had a spur on the way out to the loops. The spur consisted of a long climb up into a forest. The only dicy part of the ride was the decent from the top of the spur. The wind caught the deep rim on my rear wheel a bit and I felt an uncomfortable push at about 45 mph. I held pretty steady at 200 watts for most of the course. My right quad began to cramp around the 80 mile mark, and I had to back off a bit so it wouldn’t seize. I couldn’t stand in the pedals going up hill or really push on the flats. Thankfully, the ride back to transition was mostly downhill. I managed to finish at almost 19 mph, beating my time at Wisconsin by 30 minutes.

My bike to run transition went well. A long run with the bike to the point at which a volunteer took it from me. A quick change to running shoes, and then back up the exit ramp, and I was out on the run. Ouch! just as I started to run it felt like someone had driven a spike through the outside of my right foot. I also really felt the heat for the first time. All through the bike, I took 3 water bottles at every aid station. I drank a bottle of sport drink and a bottle of water every 20 miles, and dumped the rest of the water on my head. Thanks for the advice Adam. This kept me reasonably cool. I continued to dump water on my head for the rest of the day. But now I was worried. I had to stop and walk after trying to push through the foot pain for the first half mile. I walked for about a quarter of a mile and then tried to run again. Not good. The pain made me stop after a few hundred yards. By now, I had finished the first mile and was walking. It looked like a long day. I was not going to quit, and I could easily walk and finish well before the cut off. Perhaps I was imagining it, but the look of pity on the spectators faces was not encouraging even if their comments were. I was the only person walking at my position in the field. I tried to run again, but the pain increased and I had to walk. The guy that I had gone back and forth with during the bike strode past me. My hope of winning my age group disappeared down the rode. He must have taken a long time in transition because I let him go with about 5 miles left on the bike. At the two mile mark, I started to run again. The pain was always there, but increased tremendously when I started to run. Back to walking, but it was now about 50% run 50% walk. By mile three the pain was less, and not increasing too much as I started to run. Now, I was back on plan running the whole way between aid stations, walking while drinking, and then running to the next station. They’re a mile apart. At mile 7, I caught they guy who had run past me and started to dream about Hawaii. By now the sight of Gatorade made me ill. I was surviving on water, pretzels, chicken broth, and bananas. The dream continued until mile 21 when a guy with 55 on his right calf flew by me. Still, second place would be a huge improvement over 11th at Wisconsin. At mile 21, I also began to loose my pace, such as it was. I did’nt stop running if you could call my shuffling running, but I did slow down. I managed to sprint down the finnish chute, and finished in 12:13:14, 58 minutes and 30 seconds faster than at last year’s IM Wisconsin.
I gathered my morning clothes, went to transition, and made it back to the hotel to wait for Tom. I called Polly, and before I could say anything, she congratulated me on my time and my wonderful 6th place finnish. 6th PLACE...oh well it was a great fantasy out there in the lead. If I had been a year older, I would have finished first in my age group by 40 minutes, and been on my way to Hawaii. Wait till next year! All you folks that said you were going to come out there and watch me may have to keep track of my progress next year, although the guy who came in third in my age group at Louisville is also 59. If he decides to do Wisconsin or if any of the other good 59 year olds enter, I’ll have to make some big gains over the winter.



I was so pumped up by the Louisville experience that I made plans to watch the Wisconsin race, and stay over to register for 2008. Susan and Bob were kind enough to let me stay at their house. I still owe them a thank you note. I got up at 4 am the morning after the race, and went down to the Madison Convention Center only to find that people had camped out all night to register. I was about 20th in line, sitting in the rain on concrete next to woman who had driven up from St. Louis to sign up. That’s normal, right?

Today was the first day of training for next year. Three weeks of forced rest. Finally, special thanks to Polly. Without her patience, support, and especially her sense of humor at the old geezer, I could never do this. I would also like to thank Adam Zucco, my coach who has to put up with all my questions, and obsessive research. I guess I am an IRONMAN.

THE ATHLETE

Polly was finishing a furious mass sprint when a spectator disguised as a mailbox hit her handlebar and caused her to hit the pavement. In addition to road rash, she broke her clavicle and shattered her elbow. Surgery the next day wired her back together, but left her in a cast which has been replaced by her bionic looking brace. On the orthopedic floor of the hospital she was know as "The Athlete," due to her low blood pressure, low pulse rate, and athletic injury.



Karen came up from Lake Geneva to provide professional care and support.

COUSINS

This is my Cousin Carole on her first return to Milwaukee after leaving 5 years ago. The man next to her is not her Great Uncle Jake for those few of you who may remember him. To me the resemblance is striking.

OBSESSION

It's raining. It's 40 degress. The gate to the only usable high school track in town is locked, but you have a track workout planned. You have to do 5 X 1200 meters with a 400 meter jog in between. So what does a 58 year old man with reasonable intelligence do?

Of course you scoot under the locked gate so that you can complete your workout, so that you can be strong for the Louisville Ironman just 9 and 1/2 months away, so you have the experience to finish in the top two of you're age group at Ironman Wisconsin when you turn 60 in 2008, so you can go to Kona. That's reasonable...right. At least it's plan.

and SENILITY
Of course, if you had bothered to drive around to the far side of the track, you might have seen that the back gate was wide open.

Welcome to my neighborhood which is now safe for good god fearing people of generous natures. They have insured that same sex couples will be denied the dignity of caring for eachother in sickness at the same time that they have demanded the lives of criminals for the first time in over 150 years. Wisconsin...a great place on a Great Lake.

Curtis and I went out for a slow ride in brisk weather.

After two months, it's now time to issue my IM Wisconsin race report. Here it is:

It’s been almost two months since I finished Ironman Wisconsin. My feelings upon finishing were quite different than what I had expected. Whether or not that had to do with the difference between the actual race and what I had anticipated is still not clear.

During the week leading up to the race, I became increasingly excited and optimistic. I was faithful to my training plan all year. Previous races at the California 70.3, Triple T, and Spirit of Racine had all gone well, and most importantly, the weather forecast was looked to be perfect, with a partly sunny sky and temperatures in the low 60’s. I arrived in Madison the Friday before Sunday’s race, and went through all the required check in procedures. I felt calm, unusually so after the week’s build up of excitement. Instead of my usual manic running around, I spent most of my time quietly reading or watching television in my room.

Polly and Lily arrived on Saturday afternoon, and we went out to an early dinner with the Schmitts who were there to see Bill do his second IM Moo. Tommy Geldermann also came with us. He was up from Louisville to do his first IM Wisconsin but his fifth or sixth overall.

I kept an eye on the weather as the forecast first deteriorated, and then came back to only a 20% chance of rain. By the time I left for transition with Bill on Sunday morning, there was a 20% -30% chance of rain, but a prediction of temperatures in the low 50’s, cold, but still good news for me.

As I was in line to enter the water, I saw Polly, and gave her a big hug and kiss. I was feeling great, a little nervous, but optimistic. I entered the water and swam out to a position very near the buoys. At the start, I began swimming easily, at least in terms of my effort level. I was kicked, grabbed, and pulled at for the entire swim. I stuck close to the buoys, so I didn’t add any extra distance to the swim, but I did notice that some swimmers swam well inside the buoys as though they were in a giant pool doing laps. I finished the swim in just under an hour and 19 minutes. My goal for the swim was 1:15, so I was not too disappointed. Polly told me that at the start, two guys swam directly to shore and got out. Over 40 of the 2400+ starters failed to finish the swim. The next day many athletes complained about the rough conditions. I thought the roughness was due to the swarm of swimmers. I never realized how rough the water itself was.

The run up the ramp to T1 was easier than I had thought it would be, but the time in transition was much longer. Next time, I will wear all my bike clothing under my wetsuit as I usually do. I was afraid that the regular bike shorts that I wanted to wear for the long ride would be too bulky, but it took me too long to put everything on. As I headed out to the bike racks, I heard Curtis Weinstein yell my name. I turned to wave and fell flat on my face, great form.

As I headed out the connector to begin the two loop course, I felt strong. The rain was more a mist than a downpour, at least it was then. By the time I finished the 16 mile ride out to the loops it was windy cold and raining steadily as it would for the rest of the day. After 30 miles, I stopped for the first of about 10 comfort stops, as they call them at the Tour de France. In order to get the 400 calories an hour that I had planned on, I was drinking a huge amount of fluid, and not sweating it out. I also put on my rain jacket, more for the cold than the rain. It soaked through almost immediately. Clearly, an Assos rain jacket is in my future. At the completion of the first loop, I was about 10 minutes off my goal pace. This was the most depressing part of the entire race for me. The bike is my strength, but it wasn’t happening. All my electronics went out within the first 15 miles. My HR monitor never worked after the swim. The Powertap watt meter stopped recording after four miles, and the speedometer quit at 15. I went by feel. Perhaps I was too conservative, but my poor run time would not indicate that I left too much out on the bike course.

When, I returned to transition, I knew that I was not going to have the race that I had hoped to have. I was almost 40 minutes slower than my goal of 5:50. T2 was another struggle with clothing. My fingers were numb, and it was very difficult to pull things off and put them on. Luckily, I had quick laces and didn’t have to try to tie anything. As I left for the run, I saw Polly, Oona, Lily, and several of Oona’s friends from camp and UW all in matching t-shirts with my license plate number printed on them. Polly had organized this cheering section, and used the license plate number so I wouldn’t be embarrassed by a public demonstration. I must be very difficult to live with.

It felt good to be running after all those miles of biking and wind chill. I planned on holding 10 minute miles. I came close for about the first seven. I ran the whole first loop with the exception of Observatory Hill. The course winds back and forth through the Madison campus. We even ran around the football field at Camp Randal, the Badgers’ home field. Much of the run goes along Lake Mendota. I was slowing down, but I still felt like running. When I reached the turn around at the capitol, I grabbed my special needs bag which contained a dry long sleeve jersey. One of the thousands of great volunteers helped me struggle into it. It was really getting cold. The shirt gave me a shot of energy and optimism, and I felt that I was picking up the pace going down upper State Street when I heard Polly, and looked up to see her running with me. Well, I guess I wasn’t actually picking it up that much.

One of the amazing things on the run was seeing Lynn and Jenny Schmitt on what seemed to be every corner. Somehow, they had analyzed the course, and were able to run from place to place to be there just before Bill arrived. They were kind enough to wait there till I passed, and then must have dashed for the next position. I also noticed Dan Schowalter as I was finishing both my first and second run laps of the race.

By the time I was in my second lap around the football field, the wheels began to come off. I decided that if I could detect a slope steep enough to drain water, I was walking up it. It was about this time that I began running with a woman in a yellow jacket similar to the one I was wearing. She was slower than I, but she kept running. I would catch her, then see something remotely resembling a hill, and start walking. Then I’d start running again would catch her on the flats and downhills. This continued for the rest of the run.

I was now stopping frequently for hot soup and pretzels. I was so sick of the concentrate I had on the bike and beginning of the run that I could no longer use it. The soup let me pretend that I was warming up. Not in my wildest dreams could I imagine that cold would have been an issue in this race. As cold and wet as it was, the conditions were still better than the 95° of the previous year.

As I reached the top of the finish ramp, I thought it would be interesting to cross the line with the woman that I had been trading places with for the last 10 miles. I was surprised to see her turn for a second lap just as I started down toward the finish. Wow, that was going to be a long day. When I watched Bill finish in 2005, I was filled with emotion when I heard his name called with Mike Reilly, the announcer blarring “Bill Schmitt, you are an Ironman.” I expected to feel that emotion for myself this time. I was surprised that as I crossed the line, that I failed to hear anything. Friends later told me that not only was I declared an Ironman, but that a brief biography noting where I was from, and that it was great that a first time, 58 year old had managed to finish. My time was a disappointing 13:11:50, about an hour and 20 minutes slower than my goal. Now that I remember that it was not so long ago that I could not imagine completing an Ironman, I feel pretty better about the experience.…so much better that I let Tommy talk me into doing the inaugral IM Louisville. Wait till next year.