Showing posts with label single speed. Show all posts
Showing posts with label single speed. Show all posts
Sunday, January 01, 2012
Sunday, September 11, 2011
Video: 3,000-yard swim, 7-mile gravel run, 60-mile gravel ride, 7-mile gravel run, 5:00am, 60 degrees, Linn County, Iowa
Weekly activity log:
Swim: 7,000 yds (ytd 201,000 yds.)
Bike: 121 miles (ytd 4,392 mi.)
Run: 38 miles (ytd 1,056 mi.)
I’ll be honest. Sometimes it just doesn’t work out.
Say, for example, you have a race planned for the weekend; a long, long race a long, long ways from home. But then maybe your dog falls ill and needs a blood transfusion and a cocktail of drugs administered regularly and constant attention. And maybe your daughter moves off to college, but then has a bit of an emotional meltdown and needs you, really needs you. So maybe you pull the plug on your far, far away race and care for your dog and your daughter, because that’s what you do. Then, maybe you give up for the year, rack the bike, closet the running shoes and shelve the speedo.
Or maybe, just maybe, you quit moping, set your alarm and get out the door to finish off a favorite swim workout, head out on one of your favorite, long gravel rides, and top it off with a long run or two you enjoyed from years ago.
Maybe… maybe not.
Sunday, July 11, 2010
Video: 3-hour hike-a-bike, 8:00 am, 41 degrees, Ptarmigan Pass, Summit County, Colorado
Weekly activity log:
Swim: 0 yds (ytd 20,600 yds.)
Bike: 101 miles (ytd 3,218 mi.)
Run: 19 miles (ytd 718 mi.)
2009 was a good year for me. Multiple age-group wins, a couple overall podium finishes, healthy from beginning to end…
Then 2010 arrived, and I was injured during the first triathlon of a very young season (thank you, IT band); at a race I have done every year, 19 years running. That nagging ache I should have listened to months before was now screaming loud and clear, “You are screwed!”
Weeks later, and thanks to a newfound appreciation for massage therapy (thanks, CJ), stretching, rest and ice, I am ready to start 2010 all over again. I could have tossed the season away (I had already missed one scheduled race), chalked it up to increasing age or bad luck, and looked straight to 2011.
Or, I could have “stayed small,” racing little local events and impressing my kids by, potentially, adding to the hardware hanging in the closet. It would have looked good and I would have felt…
…empty.
Instead I opted to get stronger by losing. Yes, losing. I write this after having my butt handed to me this week.
Days ago, I loaded up the car, racked a bike on top and made my way up beyond 10,000 feet in Colorado, far, far out of my comfort zone, to run the La Sportiva Vail Hill Climb. I knew before leaving my Midwest home that I had no chance at victory or even placing anywhere near the top of my division, much less overall. Would I even finish? The pack of athletes I was used to running with would be out of sight before I took one step.
I was okay with that. This was about me trying something different in somewhere unfamiliar; racing against my personal clock instead of against familiar competitors on the roads I know inside and out. I intentionally stacked the cards against myself. I wasn’t used to the terrain; I was far from acclimated; I knew no one at the race…
…and I loved every minute. I was a beginner all over again. I loved the views, the smells and sounds, and even the burning in my lungs. The thousands of vertical feet were killing me and I wouldn’t have had it any other way. I didn’t have the stamina or even the right shoes for the run, and I couldn’t have cared less. I was working hard and feeling very alive for the first time in weeks.
In the final standings of the event, I got destroyed. Look for my name and you’ll need to keep scrolling. But in my psyche, I won big. The year had started over. This was how I felt a quarter century ago when I first began this lifestyle.
In the few days since that event, I've trained far above the treeline; running, hiking, riding my mountain bike, pushing my bicycle - and my limits. It hasn't been easy, but it's been simple to walk out the door every morning and afternoon. Comfort zone? Hardly.
I’m healthy again (though not quite in race shape), happy and set to step it up for the rest of 2010. Next up? The Xterra Sugar Bottom Triathlon back in corn country. It's a well-established series in a first-time location. I’ve never raced Xterra, but you know what? I have a pretty good feeling I’m gonna like it.
Weekly activity log:
Swim: 0 yds (ytd 20,600 yds.)
Bike: 101 miles (ytd 3,218 mi.)
Run: 19 miles (ytd 718 mi.)
2009 was a good year for me. Multiple age-group wins, a couple overall podium finishes, healthy from beginning to end…
Then 2010 arrived, and I was injured during the first triathlon of a very young season (thank you, IT band); at a race I have done every year, 19 years running. That nagging ache I should have listened to months before was now screaming loud and clear, “You are screwed!”
Weeks later, and thanks to a newfound appreciation for massage therapy (thanks, CJ), stretching, rest and ice, I am ready to start 2010 all over again. I could have tossed the season away (I had already missed one scheduled race), chalked it up to increasing age or bad luck, and looked straight to 2011.
Or, I could have “stayed small,” racing little local events and impressing my kids by, potentially, adding to the hardware hanging in the closet. It would have looked good and I would have felt…
…empty.
Instead I opted to get stronger by losing. Yes, losing. I write this after having my butt handed to me this week.
Days ago, I loaded up the car, racked a bike on top and made my way up beyond 10,000 feet in Colorado, far, far out of my comfort zone, to run the La Sportiva Vail Hill Climb. I knew before leaving my Midwest home that I had no chance at victory or even placing anywhere near the top of my division, much less overall. Would I even finish? The pack of athletes I was used to running with would be out of sight before I took one step.
I was okay with that. This was about me trying something different in somewhere unfamiliar; racing against my personal clock instead of against familiar competitors on the roads I know inside and out. I intentionally stacked the cards against myself. I wasn’t used to the terrain; I was far from acclimated; I knew no one at the race…
…and I loved every minute. I was a beginner all over again. I loved the views, the smells and sounds, and even the burning in my lungs. The thousands of vertical feet were killing me and I wouldn’t have had it any other way. I didn’t have the stamina or even the right shoes for the run, and I couldn’t have cared less. I was working hard and feeling very alive for the first time in weeks.
In the final standings of the event, I got destroyed. Look for my name and you’ll need to keep scrolling. But in my psyche, I won big. The year had started over. This was how I felt a quarter century ago when I first began this lifestyle.
In the few days since that event, I've trained far above the treeline; running, hiking, riding my mountain bike, pushing my bicycle - and my limits. It hasn't been easy, but it's been simple to walk out the door every morning and afternoon. Comfort zone? Hardly.
I’m healthy again (though not quite in race shape), happy and set to step it up for the rest of 2010. Next up? The Xterra Sugar Bottom Triathlon back in corn country. It's a well-established series in a first-time location. I’ve never raced Xterra, but you know what? I have a pretty good feeling I’m gonna like it.
Sunday, October 25, 2009
Thursday, September 17, 2009
BONUS POST!
I’ve been hovering around the endurance world for more than a couple decades, so it no longer comes as a surprise when I make new friends during my travels or run into old ones. Not long ago, I stumbled across a childhood sidekick who was making a first try at ‘tri.’ It wasn’t long before the comment, “I want to get faster; everyone tells me I need a new bike.”
Ugh.
I’ll be the first to admit I’ve been sucked into the marketing tactics of all the manufacturers. To my family’s dismay, there are now six rigs in the basement; too many parts to count; a spare this and a spare that. But I’m also smart enough to know, none of that equipment buys me a single second if there’s no engine inside my 47-year-old skin. I’ve received awards after plenty of races and I’ve fallen off the back at others because I wasn’t race ready. The bike I was riding never got the credit or the blame.
Of course no one, from newbie to ‘old-bie’ wants to hear that. They just want to roll up to the next race with the priciest cockpit, the latest wheelset, and the trendiest paint scheme. Results? Whatever.
The Burrito Union 10-hour Triathlon has become a personal favorite. Nestled in Northern Wisconsin’s Pattison State Park, the race pits each entrant against cold lake water, a demanding cycling course and a TOUGH trail run… over and over and over, all day long.
What better place to NOT take my Cervelo, but instead a $500 single-speed bicycle… fixed gear to be exact. No aero bars, no disc, no teardrop helmet and no freewheel. My fellow racers and traveling companions thought my choice was idiotic. Maybe they were right, but it was off to the north woods to find out.
Long story short, I covered roughly the same amount of ground (and water) at ‘Burrito’ as I had the year before. Yes, not being able to coast on the descents or turn a huge gear on the flats had me questioning my choice, and repeating the climb into transition, unable to shift-n-spin started to hurt by triathlon lap 4, but I also spent more time thinking about pacing than I would have otherwise, and I always saved a little in the tank to catch up with friends and competitors on the swim and run. I raced smart.
In the end, I got beat by some folks and passed others; solo racers and teams. I missed my age-group podium by a couple slots. I also realized you-know-who was right; it’s NOT about the bike. It’s about the heart, lungs and legs you brought on race day, whether you have one gear or 20.
What I told my old friend was right after all: Clean up the bike that you already own and get on it. You don’t need the latest, you just need your greatest effort. Put down the parts catalog and stop shopping on the Web. Get outside to ride.
See you next year at ‘Burrito’… I’ll be the one on the P3 .
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