Fourth MS150 bike ride

My friend Dan and I participated this weekend in the MS150 "Escape to the Lake" bike ride from Moraine State Park in western Pennsylvania to the shore of Lake Erie in Conneaut, Ohio. We rode 64 miles on Saturday and 62 miles Sunday with an overnight stay at Allegheny College in between. There were about 500 riders on the route with us, with plenty of support from volunteers. Rest stops were placed along the route every 12-15 miles. It appears I actually gained about a pound of body weight because I ate more snacks at the rest stops than burned calories!

 

This was Dan's and my 4th time doing this charity ride and the weather was best this year, with only gusty winds to complain about. It was indeed brutal riding in that wind at times, but it was still better than the year when we had to ride through a thunderstorm!

 

I did not train for this ride. Before this weekend, I had logged just 21 miles on my bike since January 1. I have been having a hard time staying motivated to do workouts since my 2018 Ironman in September, and this has concerned me. However, the bike ride was fun and I am happy I still have cycling legs even if they've been inactive for many months. As they say, "it's just like riding a bike," and my body knew what to do. It's not just the mileage but also the handling skills. It felt really natural. So this was a great ride for several reasons: (1) raised funds for needed research on a disease that affects millions, (2) strengthened the bond between good friends, and (3) helped me break through a fitness slump. Please pray for me that I can follow through and enjoy being an athlete again.

 

Goals for 2019

It's early for New Year's resolutions, but I figure I'm giving you all some time to think about them. Who wants to join me for the Pittsburgh Half-Marathon (13.1 miles) on May 5th? Who wants to join me for a 150-mile bike ride with the National Multiple Sclerosis Society on June 8-9 (starts in Portersville, PA)? Who wants to join me for the Air Force Marathon (26.2 miles) on Sept 21st (Dayton, OH)? Who wants to join our Masters Swim Team in 2019 and compete in meets at YMCAs across western PA? Ok, go! Get in on the fun! Get active with me!

 

(I've been a sloth since my Ironman in September, so this post is just as much for me as it is you)

Ironman Maryland Race Report

Race: Ironman Maryland

Date: September 28, 2018

Location: Cambridge, Maryland

Time: 14:21

Overall Rank: X out of XX 

Age Group Rank: X out of X 

Results: http:

 

I returned to work today and met with a few students to help them review for an upcoming exam. One of them got an average score on her first quiz and a below-average score on her second quiz. She told me she wants to be a surgeon. I wouldn’t rule that out as a career for her, but her first few quiz scores suggest she’s going to struggle to achieve that goal. In my role as a professor, youth-group leader, and step-parent, I know of so many kids that dream big. They want to be the best in everything they do. However, that kind of success is very rare. As an adult, I find that I am good at doing lots of things, but there is always someone better or something more I could have done. So what does this all have to do with my second Ironman race? Everything. I am like that student who scored okay on her first quiz but not so well on her second. I finished the race but didn’t perform as well as I wanted. I’m never going to be at the top of my age group. I’m never going to win, but the drive to be better next time remains. Until I became an adult, I never knew that athletic endeavors were a true metaphor for life; success comes from hard work; success may come a lot later than you expect; your definition of success may change with time; and success usually has more to do with how you deal with adversity than it does with how many competitors you beat. I don’t know yet whether or not I will do another Ironman 140.6-mile race. I think I will. I had an amazing time in Maryland, and I’ve still got some work I’d like to do. Here are some stories from this weekend:

Sandwich Snafu

My “secret sauce” that boosted my spirits during my first Ironman in 2016 was a 6-inch Subway sandwich I ate halfway through the bike route. I attempted this again this year, but after picking up the sandwich Friday night, I forgot to put it in the motel room refrigerator. Discovering this error at 4:15am when I got up, I threw the sandwich out and had less of a lunch on Saturday than planned. I didn’t anticipate that missing a sandwich would have much impact on my race, but in retrospect, my body really did miss the extra 340 calories and 1,090 mg of sodium.

 

Porta Potty Problem

I narrowly avoided a disaster right at the start of the race. There were only 33 porta potties set up for 1400 athletes and family members to use during the hour before our 6:45am start time. I got in line at 6:22am. My turn to use the facility didn’t come until 6:44am. While I was in line I went through my two options: (1) start the race on time in an uncomfortable state, or (2) use the toilet and start late. I decided on the second option. This was to be a 13- or 14-hour race, so I figured starting a few minutes late wouldn’t be a big deal. This choice would have been fine had I brought my wetsuit, goggles, and morning clothes bag with me to the porta potty. However, I left these items in the transition zone with my bike (because I never anticipated spending 22+ min in line), and had to go pick them up after I was done using the bathroom. 

 

The huge crowd of athletes and guests trying to use the portable toilets prior to the race at Ironman Maryland. This almost cost me any chance of finishing my race.

The problem was that according to the rules, the transition zone closes at the start of the race. When I attempted to enter, a volunteer stopped me and said “I’m sorry, sir, but I can’t let you through.” I lingered and paced for a moment, thinking about what to do. I wondered if I was finished already, without having begun. Then I wondered if I could swim the 2.4-mile course without a wetsuit and without goggles. I wasn’t about to quit now, so this is what I was going to do. Swimming in open water without goggles would have been a severe hardship. I was nearly ready to accept this fate when I saw a race official, and I pleaded with her to gain access to my wetsuit bag. She said no, but she decided she could get my stuff. “What do you need?” she asked. I said “grab everything!” Of course I needed my wetsuit and goggles, but the clothes bag contained my wallet, keys, and phone. 

Mine is not a fancy bike, but it gets the job done.

 

Maybe the official broke a rule on my behalf, and for that I am both sorry and thankful. She saved my race. I ran over to the drop-off site for my clothes bag, put my wetsuit on, and lined up with other swimmers. Fortunately with the time-trial entry, there were plenty of athletes who had not yet entered the water, and I had time to regroup and settle my nerves.

 

Waiting for our wave start of the swim at Ironman Maryland. Not my photo. I'm not sure where I downloaded it from.

 

2.4-mile Swim Course

I really enjoyed the swim. It was not as crowded as I anticipated, and I saw no jellyfish. Apparently there were some this year, but not as many as in past years. I honestly looked forward to encountering a few because it would make for an even better Ironman challenge. The water was not choppy, but a strong current pushed the swimmers to the left as we started the loop and to the right as we finished up. The swim course was actually two loops around the same set of buoys, and as I finished my first loop I could hear the announcer at the water exit cheer for the “first woman to finish the swim!” How do people swim that fast!? Maybe I wasn’t a fast swimmer, but my body was handling the distance well. My arms did not feel fatigued and I could have gone on for another mile or more. The only pain I experienced was early in the swim when my lower back started to hurt. At first I couldn’t figure out why I’d get pain in that area since swimming doesn’t tax the muscles there. However, the biologist in me realized that it was “referred pain,” that is, pain felt in one location due to a problem at another location. In this case, the wetsuit was too tight at my crotch and was causing “my boys” to be unhappy. I stopped swimming for a moment to adjust their position. In case you didn’t know, athletes regularly talk about bodily functions, so my testicular discomfort is just another detail to keep this story interesting. You are going to be okay.

 

Swim course at Ironman Maryland. Good weather and calm waters. Not too crowded, and no jellyfish. A great swim!

I finished the swim in 1:29, which was 1 minute slower than in 2016. This difference is insignificant and I was pleased. Compared to my gender age group, I was 109 out of 199 athletes (top 55%). My swims at other triathlons usually put me in the top 25% of my age group, but not at Ironman. These are more experienced and better trained athletes than the weekend warriors I usually compete against.

 

112-mile Bike Course

There were so many athletes exiting the transition zone at the same time that it took a dozen miles for me to filter through them and go the speed I wanted. There are penalties if athletes are caught drafting (following too close), blocking (riding side-by-side), or passing too slowly (a pass must occur within 25 seconds), so it took some time and effort to pass someone. I didn’t want to burn too much extra fuel by repeated passes, but I was feeling some adrenaline and wanted to! To my credit, I kept my speed nice and steady at 18.5 mph for the first 43 miles. Between miles 43 and 52, my Garmin shows I slowed to around 16 mph. I just looked at the course map and this section matched up precisely with my travel on the west side of the loop going north on Route 9. Guess what direction the wind was blowing? That’s right; I was getting a headwind in this section.

 

I remember someone asking me a few days before the race, “Will all the birds in the National Wildlife Refuge distract you?” My answer was “No, unfortunately, I’ll be keeping my head down and concentrating on going fast,” but that’s not entirely what happened. There were beautiful, open, and watery sections of the landscape where I looked for birds to keep my mind occupied and my spirit playful. I saw a heron, some egrets, mallards, cormorants, and fish crows. In addition, I heard blue jays and cardinals, woodpeckers and wrens.

Typical scene on the bike ride at Ironman Maryland. I took this photo the day after my race.

 

Given that people were not supposed to ride side-by-side, there was very little talking among athletes. It would not have been easy to share my sighting of an egret with anyone. It was heartening to find at least two sets of partners doing the race together. In one case, I heard the guy behind me giggle as he passed me, and I asked what was funny. He said he just saw his girlfriend up ahead, and watching their reunion was fun, if only fleeting. He passed her and kept going; that’s fine. In another case, in the windy section I came upon a man and woman, both in their upper 50s and in matching triathlon suits. He was following her, and as I passed him I asked if that was his wife. He said “Yes, we are doing this together. This is her second Ironman, and this is my first!” It was mile 86 and he was still very excited. I truly hope that my wife and I will go on some big adventure like this when we are that age. It’s important to keep doing new things, and do them together.

 

Lunch was at mile 64 in a high school parking lot. Mom and Dad had ridden a bus to get to that spot in an effort to see me, and there they were at the entrance to the parking lot! I couldn’t stop right there, though, so I continued a little ways to the place where they were giving the athletes the “special needs bags,” which we had packed for ourselves. This is where I was missing my Subway sandwich, but I had packed an apple and a bag of chips. I ate those as I walked through the parking lot to see my parents. My Garmin tells me I stopped for only 10 minutes to eat and talk. This is less time than in 2016, and that’s probably good. In fact, the walk was good for me because I was experiencing a lot of hip discomfort on the left side during the bike ride, and this cleared the pain up for the remainder of the day.

My bike speed during the Ironman Maryland race (blue line, right vertical axis). My heart rate is shown by the gray bars. Lunch occurred midway through the race.

 

I feel like a lot of people passed me during my short lunch. The second loop featured far fewer cyclists. I got a burst of energy after lunch and went more than 22 mph for the first 10 miles. This also corresponds to a tailwind, but I didn’t know that at the time. I just felt good, and despite worrying about burning out, I pedaled hard in high gear.

 

I knew I was still “on track” when I finished the bike leg. I knew that in 2016 I had completed the bike course in 6:42, and my official 2018 results show a bike time of 6:38. Isn’t that extraordinary? The two bike courses were in different states (I was in Ohio in 2016) and under different weather conditions, but yet my performance was nearly the same. In fact, if I remove the “lunch break” from my bike data, in 2016 I spent 6:19 on the bike going an average speed of 17.8 mph. In 2018, I spent 6:15 on the bike going an average speed of 17.8 mph. Amazing!

 

Nutrition and Hydration

Done with the swim and the bike, I was ready to start my run. I felt good, but that feeling wouldn’t last. They say that nutrition/hydration is the fourth leg of triathlon and this is where I floundered. An endurance athlete is supposed to consume about 200 calories per hour of exercise (this is a simplification of data in a book by Matt Dixon). For me on the bike, that would be 6.5 hrs x 200 = 1,300 calories. I didn’t document every GU energy gel, Honey Stinger waffle, banana, and mini Clif Bar that I consumed, but I tried to stay on a schedule where I ate and drank something every 20 minutes, and I think this would add up to at least 1,300 calories.

 

My fluid intake was not far off recommended parameters. I should have been drinking around 24 ounces per hour. For me, that would be 6.5 hrs x 24 = 156 ounces = 5.5 bottles of water/Gatorade. I recall discarding 3 empty bottles from my bike (aid stations were placed every 15 miles on the route to resupply athletes), and the two still on my bike at the end of my ride were nearly empty.

 

I think I got into problems with sodium and other electrolytes. Guidelines suggest a sodium intake of at least 700 mg per hour during an event like Ironman in cooler weather (today’s air temperature was around 70 degrees). Looking at my intake, I estimate I was getting 375 mg from food, 143 mg from Gatorade, and 66 mg of salt supplement per hour. That’s only 83% of what I should have been taking in. These are pretty rough estimates, but what if I had consumed that Subway sandwich for lunch? That would have raised my salt intake to an average of 752 mg per hour. I never would have thought a sandwich would be so important!

 

Having just finished the 112 mile bike ride, I'm about to start my 26.2 mile run at Ironman Maryland.

26.2-mile Run Course

After a quick visit with Mom and Dad in the transition zone, I started out on the run. I felt great. In fact, the bike shoes had felt tight and getting into running shoes gave me some relief. I started with an 8:15 min per mile pace, and quickly dialed it down because I knew that wouldn’t be sustainable. However, just two weeks earlier I maintained an average 8:45 pace for the Air Force Half Marathon, and I felt optimistic about today’s run. I therefore chose to stick to a 9:00-10:00 min pace for today’s race.

 

My Garmin watch data shows I stuck to this goal for about 3.5 miles. From there, I steadily slowed down. At mile 5, I had a 10:51 pace. At mile 6, I had a 10:48 pace. At mile 7, I had a 10:53 pace. By this time I was feeling dizzy and weak. There were other runners around me who were experiencing some of the same symptoms; they were weaving back and forth, and some had already knelt to the ground as if they were trying not to faint. Just a little before mile 8, I decided I was in bad enough shape that if I continued to exert myself, I would lose my balance and fall over. So I walked. I walked for 38 minutes. This section of the running route took me into the town of Cambridge where crowds were cheering for early finishers. Since the course was looped, I would have to pass by this point twice more before I was done. Spectators didn’t have any way to know how far along I was, so most of them seemed to think I was finishing. As they encouraged me, I got emotional. They were so happy and yet I was so sad because I was walking and had many miles to cover before I would finish. I never doubted that I would finish; I just knew I wouldn’t finish early, and I felt like I failed. I eventually convinced myself that I was feeling a little better in the head (not dizzy), so I tried to run again. Immediately, I got an abdominal cramp and my calf muscles were twitching. I pushed through this for 16 minutes to the next aid station where I stopped to walk and get food and drink. Attempting to run again, I found that I couldn’t get my legs to move fast enough, and my calves were going to seize up at any moment.

I walked for another hour and 28 minutes. I really, really wanted to run, so I tested my legs twice more during this period to see if the cramping was over. No success. I stopped at a porta potty and found my urine to be thick and dark. The muscle cramps, weakness, and dark urine suggested my water and salt levels were still out of balance. At that point, at mile 17.5, I determined that I couldn’t run and so I would just concentrate on walking fast and trying to have a good time doing it. Today wasn’t my day. “Let’s move past it,” I thought. I turned off the “run” setting on my watch and switched it to “walk.” I started to converse with a few other walkers. I started to look at the colored clouds and the setting sun at dusk. I thanked God for helping me get to this point in my race and my life.

 

Run cadence measured over the first 17 miles of the Ironman Maryland run segment. Green levels indicate pretty efficient running for a person of my height. But then as I started to suffer from electrolyte imbalance, I slowed (orange) and eventually had to walk (red).

My running pace during the first 17 miles of the Ironman Maryland run segment is shown by the blue line. Heart rate is in gray. I had to walk after mile 7 and again around mile 12.

Ha! That didn’t last. Six minutes later I thought “I’m at mile 18 and if I keep walking at a pace around 15 min/mile, that’s 2 more hours to go! I won’t finish until 9:45pm.” That would be well before the midnight cutoff, but I wanted to be done now, not two hours from now. So I started to run. I ran 4 miles without stopping. I saw Mom and Dad cheering for me along that stretch but I could not stop for fear of losing my momentum. I did the second loop through the town and saw all the same spectators there, and they could see I was feeling good and they thought I was about to finish. I let them think that, and I gave them a bunch of high-fives. My calves started to seize up after 4 miles, so I slowed to walk again, but my spirits were high and I had just gotten to mile 22. This thing was almost done. I could do the rest. My watch battery died, so I don’t know how much of the remaining 4.2 miles I ran and how much I walked, but it was a mix. I was walking at mile 25 and knew I could run the rest of the way, so I started up one last time and entered the town again for all the spectators’ support. Unfortunately, the dinner hour was done and a lot of them had either gone home or moved to the finish line.

 

Indeed, the finish line was lined with spectators. I wanted to get the most of it so I started on the left of the chute, slapping hands as I passed, and then I switched to the right side. I immediately saw my parents with their cow bell, white board sign, and the two funny, spinning, colored light toys they acquired somewhere during their own life journey (One showed up in 2016 but I didn’t remember them having two!). I ran past them and got to the finish line with my arms in the air. I really felt like I was hamming it up, but when I see the video of me finishing, I look pretty tired and not as enthused as I felt.

 

Me at the finish line

of Ironman Maryland 2018.

 

Volunteer Catcher

There were hundreds of volunteers helping with this race, and one position some of them had was “catcher.” These folks are at the finish line and grab you by the arm just as you finish, making sure you don’t fall over. I didn’t need catching, but I appreciated the calming presence of my catcher. He steered me by the arm to where I got my finisher’s medal and where they removed my timing chip. He steered me over to another volunteer who gave me a hat and a shirt. He steered me to the photo area where they took my photo. Then he asked me what else he could do, and I asked him “Where’s the food?” For those of you who know me well, that was a very “Jim” thing to say. If I had lost myself during the marathon, I was back now. I was well.

 

My official run time was 5:54. This compares to 5:01 when I did my Rev3 race in 2016. I’m surprised that walking about half the marathon only slowed me down by 53 minutes (compared to 2016 when I was able to run nearly the whole thing). But the math helps me understand it; a fast walk is only 3 or 4 minutes per mile slower than a slow run.

 

I admit to being disappointed in my finish time of 14 hours and 21 minutes. This is 43 minutes slower than my personal best in 2016, but it’s only a 5% difference. I really can’t complain! I didn’t do it to win. I did it to have fun and feel alive. I tell my students all the time that life is full of challenges and you grow the most when you have to struggle. Things that come easy are not worth much. So yes, I think I’ll do another. I’ve got more work to do, and there will be more joy to come.

A ride in the rain

I think about 45 of my 57-mile bike ride today was in the rain, followed by a 20-min run, also in the rain. The temperature was 61. It could have been miserable, but once I warmed up, my spirits were good. I am thankful for the fairly large network of paved recreation paths in Pittsburgh; without it, I would have had to worry about other drivers' visibility and traction besides my own.

My 6th annual Presque Isle Triathlon

Race: Presque Isle Sprint Triathlon

Date: August 26, 2018

Location: Erie, PA

Time: 1:22:29

Overall Rank: 62 out of 247

Age Group Rank: 7 out of 18

Results: http:

 

As always, my race report is too long. For those with limited interest, just know that I had one of my best performances at the Presque Isle Sprint Triathlon in recent years, and I had fun. For those of you who care more, read on!

 

This was my 6th time racing at Presque Isle State Park. I finished the course in 1:22:29, coming in 7th in my age group (of 18) and 62nd place overall (of 247). The course this year was in a different part of the park so it is hard to compare this year’s results with previous ones, but 62nd place is the best I’ve ever finished. Interestingly, my best segment was the 12.5 mile bike ride, in which I came in 54th place (finishing in 36:39, my average speed was 20.4 mph), but my swim segment was not far off (58th place, finishing 775 yards in 14:43). My running segments have never been my strong suit but I actually had a solid performance today, running 3.1 miles in 25:29 at a pace of 8:02 miles/min. This was the 73rd fastest run among the 247 competitors, and it was by far the fastest running pace I have ever had during a triathlon.

 

Observers report that my transition times were slow. It takes considerable time for me to strip off my wetsuit in T1, and I admit to spending an extra 10 seconds to my T2 today, as I chose to walk from where my bike was racked to the transition zone exit where the run course began. I didn’t think my transition times were any worse than normal, but it’s definitely true that I was slow compared to my friend Dan. Dan’s finish time was 66 seconds faster than mine; he placed 5th in our age group. This is typical, as he has always beaten me, and I admire him for that. The funny thing is that his success over me was not necessarily in the way I expected it. He out-performed me by 22 seconds in the swim, 54 seconds in T1, 8 seconds on the bike, and 35 seconds in T2. All of this is typical. However, I had a faster run by 53 seconds (not typical). If my transition times were equal to his, I would have beaten him by 23 seconds. So my friends, this is a great reminder that transitions during the triathlon count, and a race can be won or lost because of them. We shall not speak of my transition times again.

 

Besides all these statistics, I want to say this was a fun race. The weather was beautiful. The swim was in Lake Erie at Beach 10. The swim was a wave start, and I positioned myself with 3 or 4 rows of swimmers ahead of me in the middle of the pack. I didn’t really plan it that way, but after the race began and I found myself with kicking feet in my face and swimmers crowding me from both sides, I figured this was great practice for my upcoming Ironman, where the swim course will be populated with 2000 swimmers all at once. I didn’t panic and I didn’t even get frustrated. I just swam left or right to find a hole between swimmers. I drifted to the outside, away from the buoys. I probably swam a farther distance than I had to, but with water clearer of competitors, I could relax. Indeed, I didn’t swim at top speed. Maybe I was thinking about my longer Ironman swim (going slower means I can swim longer…), but honestly I just wanted to feel comfortable. That strategy doesn’t win races, but it does preserve the fun.

 

I started the bike segment using my typical strategy of maintaining a pedal cadence of 80-100 rounds per minute. With this, my speedometer hovered around 19 mph. About a third of the way through my ride, though, I began to second-guess this strategy. Science shows that at a cadence of 80-100 rpm, a cyclist is at the peak of energy efficiency. Just like a car, if one has high efficiency, one can go more miles using the same amount of energy (food for the body, or fuel for a car). But this was a sprint race! I’d be finished in less than an hour and a half, and I have trained my body to exercise for a lot longer than that. It therefore didn’t matter if I was burning fuel a little less efficiently, because it didn’t need to last that long. With this eureka moment, I shifted into a higher gear and pedaled at a lower cadence. This pushed me into the 21-22 mph range. I stayed aero for the whole race and tried to concentrate on making my pedal stroke smooth (if slower), and to keep my toes pointed forward at all times. This is something I’m not yet in the habit of doing all the time, but I am working on it. This foot position puts more force into each stroke and I can literally feel the bike thrust forward when I do it.

 

The bike segment featured unprecedented wind off the bay. There were wind gusts that pushed me from side to side, and I don’t remember ever being exposed to that condition before. Nearly all the wind was perpendicular to my direction of movement, so I wasn’t slowed down too much. Even during the higher gusts, my speed only dropped to 18 mph.

 

Running straight off the bike always feels strange, and today was no exception. I am so glad I have a GPS watch now, because it can tell me my running pace at any given moment. I was initially running at a pace of 7:45 miles/min. I knew this was not sustainable for me, so I tried to slow down. The key word here is “try,” because I only had limited success. I felt like I was running down a hill (I wasn’t) and putting on the brakes wasn’t having much effect. After about a mile, I got to an 8:10 pace and kept it there. I was working hard, my legs hurt, my breathing was labored, and my heart monitor tells me I was at the top of my range. Exactly right. This is what it should feel like toward the end of a race. At age 43, I don’t know how much faster I can train my body to be in swimming, cycling, and running. However, after 7 years of doing triathlons, I feel my experience allows me to race smarter. I know my limits and I know how much to push on any given day. Let’s just not mention those transitions. I want to end this report on a positive note.

Professional Bike Fit

I had a professional bike fit today. It's been 7 years since my last one, so I figured it was time. The technician was Matt Tinkey, an athletic trainer at UPMC's Lemieux Sports Complex. He first changed the position of my bike cleats to better transfer force from my feet to the pedals. He also gave me inserts for my shoes to limit rolling of the foot inside the shoe with each pedal stroke. Next he had me try a variety of seats to use, as my current seat was worn and, as evidenced by video analysis, caused my pelvis to rock left and right as I pedaled. The new seat reduced the rocking. Extra movement like that leads to extra muscle contractions that unnecessarily burn fuel and tax the nervous system. In a 140-mile triathlon, I want to conserve as much energy as possible during the bike segment so that I can use it during the run.

 

So after deciding on a new seat, Matt measured my knee angle and found it satisfactory. Video analysis confirmed that my knees were bending at appropriate angles. The video also showed that I move my ankles too much during the pedal stroke. Sometimes my foot points up, sometimes down; it should really just point forward most of the time, varying only by 15 degrees or less. My ankles flex by more than 25 degrees, so this is something I will want to work on (there is no mechanical fix for this!).

 

Video analysis showed that my back posture on the bike is too rounded. What this does is increase my aerodynamics, but it comes at the expense of limiting quadriceps and hamstring contractions and prevents me from breathing deeply. Over the next 4-5 weeks I am supposed to train myself to sit straighter, and once I have done that, he will lower my handlebars to make me more aerodynamic while in the better posture.

 

Matt next changed the angle of my handlebars--specifically, the "hoods" where I rest my hands. The new angle takes pressure off the thumb and better distributes it across the rest of my palm. I didn't even know this was adjustable!

 

Lastly, Matt pushed my areobars forward and angled them upward so that when I rest my arms on them, my upper back and neck are more relaxed, and I'll be likely to hold the aero position longer when I'm relaxed.

 

Overall, I got the advice and adjustments that I was looking for, and I can't wait to test out the new cycling skills and bike position next week during a 64-mile ride I have planned

Presque Isle Duathlon

Race: Presque Isle Duathlon
Date: August 26, 2017
Location: Presque Isle, Pa
Time:
Overall Rank: X out of XX
Age Group Rank: X out of X
Results: http:

The triathlon turned into a duathlon due to poor water quality. This was my first run-bike-run race and I would do another. I started out with the 2-mile run and based on my competition, I ran fairly slow. However, my pace was 8:18, which is pretty good for me. I'm not sure I could have gone faster; I was breathing hard. Dan was able to do better (8:09 pace), and Geoff, well, he's in a league of his own (7:32). Geoff went on ahead but Dan and I stuck together for a mile or so. I appreciate his effort to run with me in the beginning and keep up the conversation. Note to self: warm up before a race. The second run, 3.5 miles, was at a similar pace (8:20). I did not feel overly tired and felt pretty good through the whole thing. I kept pace with those around me; it was rare for me to pass anyone.

I'm always disappointed in my bike segment at Presque Isle. Dan and Geoff both beat me by 1-2 minutes. I can't speak to their level of training, but for me, I train on the hills around my neighborhood. That makes me good at hills. However, the race course at Presque Isle is flat, and I apparently don't have the muscle endurance to maintain high speeds for extended periods of time. I stayed in aero position for most of this race, with the exception of a rough patch of pavement, where I cycled more upright. I watched my speedometer and saw that in an upright position I was actually able to go faster. This is very curious. Perhaps I was using different muscles and got a burst of speed from them.

I am an Ironman!

Race: Rev3 Cedar Point Full Triathlon
Date: September 11, 2016
Location: Cedar Point, OH
Time: 13:37:57
Age Group Rank: 9 out of 11
Results: http:

I am an ironman now! When my friend Dan and I did a half-ironman (70.3 miles) in 2014, I had so much fun that I wondered if doing twice the length would be twice as much fun. Today, having finished a 140.6 mile race, I have the answer: it was just as much fun as the half-distance race with an even greater sense of accomplishment and inner strength. There is an often-used saying that you can do anything you want if you are dedicated enough. I am not sure that is always true because there are so many factors beyond your control, but I am happy to illustrate a case where the saying did come true.

Let’s do my report by time of day. I looked at my watch regularly to make sure I was on track to finish the race in 15-16 hours. Are you ready to spend the day with me? Let’s go:

5:00am. Dan and I wake up in the shared motel room. We had gone to bed around 9:30pm the night before, after having dinner with my parents and stopping at two stores for supplies. One store was a Subway where I bought a 6-inch cold-cut sandwich for me to pack in my “Special Needs Bike” bag.

5:37am. I took my time eating Corn Pops cereal so we were late for my target departure time of 5:30am.

5:50am. I entered the transition zone. I racked my bike and dropped off 4 bags at different locations, each containing the supplies and food I would need at various stages during the triathlon. I was so nervous on Saturday that I would forget to put needed items into the proper bags.

6:25am. Transition zone was closing. It was time to walk 800 yards to the boat launch where the swim would start. The swim was taking place in a marina sheltered from the bigger waves of Lake Erie. I didn’t mind swimming in the marina, but the swim was supposed to be in the open water of Lake Erie. The race director decided to change the location due to wind conditions.

6:50am. The sun was still below the horizon when they played the national anthem. Today was the 15^th anniversary of the 9/11 attacks, so we also paused for a moment of silence. I chose to look at the hundreds of small American flags that race organizers had placed around the boat launch. The flags were fully extended in the 14 mph wind. I was happy to be wearing my wetsuit because it kept me warm in the air as well as in the water.

7:00am. The racers lined up two-by-two and we were sent into the water every 10 seconds. The water was a perfect 75 degrees. The “time trial” start meant I didn’t have to worry about running into as many people on the swim as what would have happened if we had had a mass start.

7:05am. I immediately started swimming toward the wrong buoy. We were supposed to swim counter-clockwise around the marina, keeping the big yellow buoys on our left. I headed for the first buoy I could see. This buoy was on the far side of the looped course so eventually I would encounter it again, but not now. A kayaker intercepted me and pointed me in the right direction. I over-corrected and started swimming too close to the rock breakwater. My right arm hit rocks underneath, so I veered back into deeper water. This incident took my confidence down a notch. I had a long race ahead of me. How many more mistakes would I make today?

7:15am. I didn’t like this swim course. I was swimming right next to giant yachts (was I too close?), alongside a breakwater (would I run into more rocks?), and sometimes under branches emanating from trees growing on the breakwater (creepy, but kind of cool). Sometimes I was swimming right next to someone else (stressful), and other times the nearest swimmer seemed too far away (was I doing something wrong?). About this time, another kayaker got my attention and pointed to other swimmers a little farther off shore. He said “there is a better current over there.” Oh, I thought to myself. So that’s why they were over there and I was seemingly swimming all alone among the weeds and water snakes. I shifted into the deeper water and felt the propulsion of current. I felt like a sea turtle. It was a thrill. I just wish I had known about that earlier. At the southeastern end of the marina the water grew choppy, but I had just done the Presque Isle Sprint Triathlon a month before, and the water there was worse. This swim was going fine after all.

7:44am. I started my second loop of the swim course and felt more confident about my bearings. My arms were too warm, my calf muscles felt slightly crampy, but nothing was too bothersome. The sun was just now breaking through clouds on the horizon. The mix of patchy gray fog and a white cloud-speckled blue sky with rays of golden sun spurred a sense of thanksgiving within me.

8:20am. I saw Dan on shore with his camera. I gave him an “a-ok” signal with my hand as I took a stroke.

8:27am. I finished my swim in 1:27, about 18 minutes faster than I had anticipated. This put me in 31^st place overall, out of 90 racers. The calmer waters of the marina (versus the open lake) and the reduced need for sighting probably helped me keep to a straighter line and finish sooner. Upon exiting the water, volunteers helped me strip out of the wetsuit. Then I put the wetsuit, swim cap, and goggles into a mesh bag with backpack straps, put it on, and retrieved a pair of running shoes I had left in the designated location. After a few wobbly strides, I ran stiffly the half-mile distance to the transition zone.

8:32am. In transition, I was directed into the changing tent to prepare for the bike segment. The changing tent was a surreal and dreamy experience. There were plastic folding chairs for athletes to sit in as we changed our shoes.  A volunteer visited each athlete, asking if we needed water, Gatorade, or energy bars. I asked for water, and he returned in an instant with a cup of ice water. I think maybe if I had asked him for a hot towel and a glass of wine, he would have gotten that for me, too. It was like I was flying first class in an airplane. We spoke in muted tones, honoring the performance in which we all played a role.

8:39am. I left the changing tent with food stuffed in one pocket of my tri suit and the Quarq GPS tracking device in the other pocket. The Quark would transmit my position every minute to a website where my friends and family could watch my progress in real time. It was the size of a bar of soap and besides taking up valuable space in my pocket where more food would have gone, it was a great thing to have.

9:30am. The bike route coursed along a narrow strip of land with a beach on one side and homes on the other. As soon after it reached the mainland the course weaved through a neighborhood near a school. It was at this spot where I saw an ambulance crew loading an athlete onto a stretcher. I was moving at an average speed of 20mph so I didn’t have the chance to gawk, but it didn’t look good. I remember my first thought was “that’s so disappointing that she had an accident at the start of the race.” This reasoning isn’t quite logical, as it shouldn’t make any difference whether the crash was at the start or the finish. It would still be a bad day for the athlete. But what my thought process suggested was that I was having a good time, and I wouldn’t want to crash so early in what I hoped would be a very fun day.

10:00am. I had been following another guy on a bike for maybe an hour. Drafting was illegal for this race so I maintained a following distance of at least three bike lengths. He knew I was there because at every intersection controlled by police, he would thank them for being there, and then a second later, I would do the same. I really wanted to keep following him because it takes less mental energy to follow than to lead. However, we encountered a small hill and he slowed down. Having trained on the hills of Pittsburgh, I am a really good climber. I just couldn’t slow down for the hills, so I passed him.

11:00am. I passed through an aid station with a bottle exchange. I had been taking sips of Gatorade every 15-20 minutes so by this time, one of my bike’s bottles was empty. I slowed down a little, discarded the empty bottle, and grabbed another from a volunteer. It was effortless, like a pro. I had an emotional moment after passing through that aid station. I had tears. Was I grieving the loss of the water bottle? No, that couldn’t be it. I had planned to discard the bottle during this race. So maybe it was just a moment of reflection on how well this race was going for me.

11:15am. For food, I had been eating some Stinger Waffles I had stuffed in my pocket. I like the Waffles a lot better, but I wanted something different so at another aid station I stuck my hand out and grabbed a pre-opened portion of a PowerBar from a volunteer.  No one was stopping to eat, so I didn’t either. The PowerBar was so dry, I almost choked. It’s hard to eat and exercise at the same time.

11:30am. I came upon the half-way point on the bike route where our “Special Needs Bike” bags were distributed by volunteers. One person stood along the road well out ahead of the aid station and read our numbers. By the time we pedaled to the aid station, some Boy Scouts had found my numbered bag and handed it to me. I pulled over and took out my Subway sandwich. I stood there eating it for about 15 minutes as numerous cyclists grabbed their bags and went on. If they happened to see me, they looked at my sandwich with great envy. The volunteers were laughing at what I was doing; here I was, stopped, and eating a sandwich. I was joking with them and asking about their day. I was so relaxed and in good humor that they couldn’t believe I was doing a race. “I like this guy!” the Boy Scout leader kept saying. I am a slow eater. I finally finished, retrieved a few more Waffles and Clif bars from my special needs bag and put them into my pocket, and started on my way. Then I turned back and asked the volunteers where the porta-john was. They laughed some more and pointed me to a nearby intersection. After a few more minutes, I was on my way.

11:36am. I saw Dan and my parents along the roadside with signs, cheering for me. My mom’s voice carried more than anyone’s. She was so proud of me.  I am 41 years old, and the love and support of my parents still means a lot. I was heading downhill and couldn’t stop to say hello. I felt bad that they must have been sitting there for an hour waiting for me, and within 5 seconds I was gone.

1:00pm. I finally found another cyclist to follow and this helped pass the time. After a few minutes, though, we came upon an athlete who had pulled her bike to the shoulder. She had a flat. Proper etiquette required we pull over and assist her. Fortunately, though, the guy I was following encountered her first, so he was more responsible for helping than I was. The woman had a patch kit but no pump. That’s poor planning, you know? I don’t want to sound too critical, but you can certainly fix a flat with a patch, but that does little good without some way to re-inflate the tube. I’m not sure whether or not the guy in front of me stayed with her and used his pump to assist her, but since he was there, I felt I could move on without violating my ethical code.

1:28pm. By this time I was well into my second loop of the bike course. The field of competitors had really spread out and there was no one within view ahead of me or behind me. There had not been a lot of people passing me during the day, but I spent almost 18 minutes off the bike at lunch, so I guess a lot of folks passed me then (race data show about 20 people doing the full length race passed me between miles 22 and 60). My lower back was sore. The wind was no fun. I had maintained an average speed of 17.0 mph for 80 miles. I tried to think about how few miles I had before I could stop, but 112-80=32 miles and that still equated to two hours more to go. That wasn’t really a comfort so I stopped doing math.

1:32pm. I wasn’t feeling right. My leg muscles felt fine but my thought process didn’t feel sharp anymore. My speed had slowed to 13-14 mph. I also realized that my performance’s soundtrack had gone quiet. You see, I sing silently to myself when I exercise. I make up random tunes in my head and sing them over and over, coordinating my limb movements with the song in my head. Sometimes I sing tunes from church, or Christmas carols. But now on my bike ride, my mind had stopped singing. This was a clue that I was bonking; that is, running out of fuel and/or electrolytes. I pulled over and ate several handfuls of the pretzels I had stuffed in my seat bag. Another cyclist pulled over to see if I was ok. I explained that I was bonking, and he said he was too, and that we would do so together. I’m not sure he was all that ill—he might have just been caring for me. I recovered within a couple minutes and we started up again. He followed me until we encountered a hill, and since I am good on hills, I slowly left him behind.

3:20pm. I was finally done with the bike. I had seen my parents a couple more times, I had drunken another gallon of Gatorade (approximately), I had choked down another terrible PowerBar, and I had pushed through the back pain so that I was no longer feeling it anymore. I had also taken several salt tablets from aid stations, and that really seemed to help. As I approached the transition zone at Cedar Point, I yelled out the number of miles I had left: “10 miles!” then “9 miles!” then “8 miles!” and so on. I verbally congratulated myself for riding my bike farther in one day than ever before, and I reminded myself that I had never swam 2.4 miles in one day before, either. My official time on the bike was 6:41:42, averaging 16.7 mph, but that included lunch and several quick stops. My bike computer tells me my bike was in motion for 6:18:53, averaging 17.8 mph.

3:40pm. I racked my bike in transition and headed into the changing tent to change my socks and shoes. The tent experience was a lot less special the second time around. There were only a couple other athletes in the tent and they seemed spent. The volunteer was tired and nonverbal. In contrast, my legs felt amazingly fresh. I felt I could start running with no difficulty, but first, I wanted to thank my cheering squad. I left the tent and walked to greet Dan and my parents who were waiting at the fence. We hugged and chatted and it helped me relax. I wanted them to know I appreciated their presence on the course. I spent almost 16 minutes in transition.

3:47pm. I was running an 8:07 min/mile pace after the first mile of the run. I had 25 miles to go, so I decided to slow down. I had trouble thinking about the fact that I still had 5-6 hours to go before the end of the race. At every mile marker, I would do the math, and it was never good: “Great! I’ve run 5 miles. Just…um…21 miles to go.” Yeah, I stopped saying that to myself. I stopped thinking ahead and just concentrated on the present moment. I looked at the architecture of buildings. I greeted the athletes going the opposite way on this out-and-back course. I whooped and hollered with the volunteers at every aid station.

5:39pm. By this time I had run 11.4 miles and was maintaining a 9 to 10min/mile pace. The course consisted of a complicated 4-loop system around a marina, through a city park, through downtown Sandusky, through neighborhoods, and along the causeway back to Cedar Point. The looped nature meant that I would visit the same aid stations over and over, and I got to know the volunteers. Each station was fully stocked with water, Gatorade, Coke, salt tablets, energy gels, and PowerBars (none for me, thanks). Two of them had bananas in the beginning but they stopped offering these late in the run. As I would approach, I would call out what I wanted, and the volunteers would get it. As the miles went by, I really didn’t know what I wanted so the volunteers started listing what they had. One offered chicken broth. I turned it down the first time, but for the next 11 miles I looked forward to encountering that station again and having some.

5:53pm. I got to the halfway point of the run where I was given my “Special Needs Run” bag to rummage through for treats I had prepared for myself. I added a few fruit snacks to my pocket and changed my left sock because I was developing a hot spot and thought that would help. Dan was there and I talked to him as I changed my sock and examined my foot. I was fairly tired at this point and walked about 50 yards until I got the motivation to start running again. My pace had slowed to a 14:15 min/mile during this section because of my temporary pause in running.

6:33pm. In 2015 when I ran my first marathon, I ran continuously for 16.5 miles and then started to run/walk (i.e., run for 3 minutes and walk for 1 minute). I wanted to do better than that this year, so my goal was to keep running for at least the first 17 miles. Except for the pause at the midway point, I met this goal. In fact, the only time I walked was at the aid stations, but this was sometimes a necessity; the chicken broth was too hot to chug! My parents had joined with a few other spectators at a city fountain. I would stop to talk to them for about a minute each time I passed by that point. Then I would cross a city street and drunk people would cheer for me as I ran past a restaurant with outdoor seating.

7:11pm. I was maintaining a running pace of 12 min/mile at milepost 19. I wasn’t in any pain. My legs were certainly tired, but they didn’t feel stiff and debilitated like they felt in 2015 at this point in my marathon. I was still joking with volunteers and city residents who were always happy to cheer. There was a house with lots of spectators holding signs and being rowdy. On my last loop past them, I ran into their yard and exchanged high-fives. There was a street corner where another spectator had been sitting, and I told her I was happy to never see her again. She had a puzzled, somewhat offended look on her face until she figured out this was my last loop. “No offense,” I said. There was a grandmotherly whisper of a woman who had been sitting on her front porch all afternoon, ringing a bell as runners passed. On my last loop I ran up onto her porch and shook her hand. I hope I made her day. I had a great amount of endorphins and my body was still whole, so I wanted to take time to thank everyone for contributing to this experience.

7:50pm. With about 4 miles to go I hooked up with another runner who had a similar pace. That is, until he stopped to walk. When I passed him, I encouraged him to keep going. He started up again, and together we started running faster. He was more tired than me, so I took responsibility for keeping the conversation going. Shannan was watching my GPS tracker all day long, and she tells me my pace had quickened to around 10 min/mile. Eventually, my companion told me to go on. He stopped to walk; I kept running, and I was running faster and faster because I knew the end was near. I even had the concern that I would beat my parents to the finish line because they had to get into their car and drive across the causeway on their way from downtown Sandusky where I saw them last to Cedar Point. As I was thinking of this, several police cars followed by fire trucks raced past at an extraordinary rate of speed.

8:10pm. It was dusk now, and I had just passed the second-to-last aid station. A worker ran up to me and told me that I would have to stop running at the next intersection. There had been a car accident on the causeway and police had shut down the road. She said they were stopping the race clock, and she wrote down my number so they would know how far I had gotten. I had 1.83 miles left before the finish line. More runners came to the intersection, and eventually we backtracked to the aid station. No one knew when we would be allowed to start up again, so we kept walking around and stretching in order to stay loose and ready for our final push to the finish line. Constant movement was also a necessity in order to avoid an ambush of hungry mosquitoes. I am not exaggerating when I say I got two dozen bites. It was a fitting, miserable end to our run. However, the volunteers at the aid station more than made up for it. One man ran to his home and got some bug repellent for us. Another volunteer heated more chicken broth. Someone else retrieved a bunch of extra shirts for us to wear so we wouldn’t get too cold.

8:30pm. We runners had given up now. Many of us sat on the ground. Most, including me, were accepting of the situation and took this in stride. We couldn’t change the course of events, and look how far we had gotten! The race official at the aid station informed us that the race was now canceled; we would not be allowed to run the last couple miles.  A shuttle van would arrive in about 30 minutes and take us to the finish line where we would be given our finisher’s medals.

9:00pm. The shuttle arrived and we drove the run course in reverse for several miles, looking for any other runners we could pick up. There were still some people running their last remaining loop who would need transportation to the finish line. One athlete refused to get on our bus. She wanted to keep going. Fellow racer Christopher Jarc got off our bus to try to convince her to stop. When that strategy failed, he came back to our bus and told us to leave them both. He would run with her for as long as she could go on. Christopher was a 30-something bearded character who ran his race in jeans shorts and sandals. There are reports that he stuffed chicken fingers in his shirt pockets and offered them to fellow racers. It was an honor to be in his presence. He comforted people as they boarded the bus. Several were in tears because they couldn’t finish the race. I understand their tears. They would always feel like their race was incomplete, that because they didn’t do all 140.6 miles, they didn’t reach their goal, and all the training they did over the past year was a wasted effort that might never be repeated. I didn’t feel this way.  I accepted that my race would be 139.2 miles (I am including the 0.45 mile run between the swim and the bike transition), and it doesn’t bother me that I couldn’t finish. The race length of 140.6 miles seems really arbitrary. I still achieved my goal by doing something I had never done before, and because I was still having a good run at the end, I knew I could have gone another couple miles with no difficulty.

10:00pm. The shuttle bus took a 10-mile detour to get us back to Cedar Point. The president of the Rev3 company greeted us as we got off the bus and reiterated how our race would end. We would be given an estimated finish time based on our running pace when the race was stopped. We would be allowed to run through the finish line chute, one at a time, to receive cheers from the remaining spectators, and to be given our medals. I hadn’t noticed Dan or my parents at this point, but as soon as it was my turn to run across the finish line, my mother joined me in the run. The Rev3 company brands itself as family-friendly and they encourage family members to enter the finish chute with their athlete because this recognizes the fact that training for such a race takes a family-wide commitment. Mom had brought a couple little multi-colored spinning flashlights from home and spun them around as we ran. I was so amused by this that I never heard the announcer say my name and state that I was an official finisher of the Rev3 Full Distance Triathlon. It was official.  I was an ironman!

So what’s next for me? I would consider doing another ironman, but I’m not sure when. What I do know is that it will be very strange to get back on my bike and go for a ride. It’s been a long time since I have ridden it without a training plan telling my how long or how far.

I’ll end with some numbers:

Total Race Time (estimated)= 13:37:57. This is much faster than the 15-16 hours I had predicted.

Age Group Ranking = 9 out of 11.

Total swim time = 1:27:54

Total bike time = 6:41:43

Average bike speed = 17.8 mph

Maximum bike speed = 31.3 mph

Elevation gain on bike route = 1,637 feet

Total run time = 5:00:40. This is only six minutes slower than my marathon finish time in 2015, and back in 2015 I hadn’t just swam and biked beforehand!

Today’s high temperature = 73 degrees

This morning’s low temperature = 56 degrees

Today’s peak hourly wind speed = 14 mph

Number of blisters: 2, but these didn’t really bother me on race day.

Number of Tylenol tablets I had placed in my special needs bags = 6.

Number of Tylenol tablets I used today = 0.

Miles of training in 2016 before this race = 2,428.

Hours of training in 2016 = 223. I log my hours when I log each workout’s mileage.

Financial cost of doing this race = A lot. But I am really proud to have done it without buying anything beyond the basics. Most triathletes at this level have $3,500+ bikes, GPS watches, and professional coaches. I did buy a new jacket at the finisher’s brunch the day following the race. It was $75. Shrug. Nobody’s perfect.

Presque Isle Sprint Triathlon

Race: Presque Isle Sprint Triathlon
Date: August 20, 2016
Location: Presque Isle, PA
Time:
Overall Rank: 60 out of 367
Age Group Rank: 5 out of 19
Results: http:

Race Report for the 2016 Presque Isle Sprint Triathlon. Read all about it if you care! 

SWIM: Today's race was under really great weather conditions; both the air and water temperatures were in the upper 70s. Despite the reasonable temperatures and clear skies, there was somehow quite a chop in the bay water where we swam, and that presented a challenge during the swim to the first buoy. At the start, I positioned myself at the front on the right side, just as in past years. This worked really well, as I was able to avoid the crowd of less-able swimmers in the middle and rear of the wave. The choppy water was a challenge but I've swam in worse. Nevertheless, I still had to battle myself in that I was swimming too hard to get out ahead of everyone, and consequently I was out of breath and didn't concentrate on maintaining good rhythm. Curving around the first buoy, the waves were less and I was farther away from other swimmers so I got into a better rhythm. I drifted a little off course to the right, but nothing serious. Starting at the second buoy, on my way back to the beach, I started to encounter large numbers of swimmers from earlier waves. These were the weaker/slower swimmers from the younger age groups that started first. I bumped into one who was treading water, and she said "sorry!" I've never had anyone talk to me during a swim segment before, and I laughed in my head that that would even occur.

I finished the 585-yard swim in 13:11, which was 4th place in my gender+age group of 19 swimmers. I had the 60th fastest time overall, out of 367 competitors.

BIKE: I felt like I swam pretty well at the time, but looking back, I really wasn't as tired as I should have been. That might explain why I felt strong and fast on the bike segment. I passed lots and lots of people, and was passed by maybe a dozen at the most. I was maintaining a speed of 21-22mph during the first 4 miles and I remember questioning myself whether or not I should take it down a bit in order to preserve my legs for the run. I decided against that, knowing that with all my training I was in good shape and could probably still run well. So I kept the pace at my maximum output for the duration of the bike segment. I noticed that my legs got tired after a bit in the aero position so I switched around between arms forward on the aero bars to the handlebar drops to the handlebar hoods. I was surprised to find that my speed was just as fast when my hands were on the hoods as in any other position, but this may simply due to the temporary leg muscle relief the hoods provided.

I finished the 12.5 mile bike segment 5th in my gender age group and 64th overall. I have done this same race in 4 previous years so I can see how much improvement has occurred in my bike performance since 2012. Um, not much. I had a faster bike segment in 2014 (35:50), and my time in 2016 was only 2:03 faster than my slowest time of 38:07 in 2013.

RUN: My typical behavior in a triathlon of any length is to expend too much energy in the swim and bike segments and then suffer during the run. Today was not like that. I dismounted from my bike, changed my shoes, grabbed a GU, and started running at a fairly brisk pace without too much discomfort. In fact, I started passing people on the run and this was an unusual situation! I again made an assessment about whether or not my pace was too fast. It felt too fast, but I decided to push myself and keep it going. I've got an Ironman race coming up and I needed to prove to myself that I was prepared for that upcoming event. Anyway, it seemed to take a long time to get to the turn-around point, but I finally made it. As I ran back to the finish line, I concentrated on people-watching, looking at the facial expressions of folks as they passed me going the other way, plus admiring all the different triathlon suits they were wearing, plus looking at all the tattoos people had. This kept my mind occupied. There was one man with elaborate tattoos on his arm and shoulder that I passed once or twice, and he passed me once or twice. We had about the same pace, so I started up a conversation. This helped both of us immensely. At first, he was pushing me to go faster, and then toward the finish he seemed to need me to pull him along.

With his help, I had a strong finish (for me). I finished the run 4th in my gender age group and 75th overall. This year's performance was my best in 5 years of doing this race. I was 35 seconds faster than in 2014, which was my previous best time.

Combining the swim, bike, run, and transition times, I finished the entire race in 1:21.38, which was 5th (out of 19; top 26%) in my gender age group and 60th (of 367; top 16%) overall. I feel great about the race and had a lot of fun. This was Shannan's first race at Presque Isle and she had great fun, too. I am now about 22 days away from my Ironman and I feel very prepared and know I'll have fun that day, too. This was a good thing to do just before my big race, since it has bolstered my confidence.

longest training ride

Every Paved Trail in Pittsburgh, plus a section of the Montour Trail: 91 miles in 6:01, average speed = 15.1 mph.

I felt good, considering the length of the ride. My legs had plenty more in them at the end, but my back was really sore from the riding position. Four eventful things happened on the ride: (1) At 1.0 hours in, it started to pour. The rain lasted about 30 minutes. Then, another hour later it rained again, so I was soaked for half the ride. I didn't mind too much. I got a little cold toward the end, but otherwise the rain made the ride interesting. (2) 2.5 hours in, I started getting muscle twitches that indicated to me a lack of salt and/or potassium. The snacks I carried didn't contain much of these electrolytes so I stopped at REI and bought some salty snacks. (3) Soon after my visit to REI, I was riding through Schenley Park and into Oakland. There were railroad tracks at a slant and signs there reminded me to take the tracks at a 90-degree angle. I was lazy and did them at maybe a 60-degree angle. This was good enough for my front tire, but my back tire slipped out from beneath me and I skidded onto my side. I got small areas of road rash on my shin, thigh, and ankle; my right cycling glove tore; and my bike's handlebar tape is cut up. I'm really surprised that that is all that happened to me and my bike. It was quite a spill! My chain started making high pitched noises after that, but I think it was just from having the rain wash away all the chain grease, and I only started to notice it after my fall. (4) I got my third flat tire in a month. Great, just great. I'm getting well practiced at changing a flat, but this is also making me really worry about getting the next one. I now constantly look down during my ride to see if my tires are still ok.

Wilmerding Indoor Triathlon

Race: Wilmerding YMCA Indoor Tri
Date: April 3, 2016
Location: Wilmerding, PA
Time:
Overall Rank: X out of XX
Age Group Rank: X out of X
Results: http:

The race started with the time it took on the treadmill to go 1.5 miles. I ran it in 11:09: Bumped the treadmill up to 8.3 mph. I don't think I've gone that fast before. Whoa, maybe I should get out more!!

Then I jumped on the exercise bike and went 5 miles in 14:09: I'm not sure I like those fancy bikes at the YMCA....I found it a lot different from my road bike, and even my indoor trainer.

Then I ended with a swim of 200 yards in 2:31: I went really fast at the start and then by the last lap I was really struggling. Fortunately, I was in the first heat and no one else had gotten to the pool yet, so no one saw me struggle. But now YOU know!

Mighty Moraine Man Half-Ironman

Race: Mighty Moraine Man Half-Ironman Triathlon
Date: September 21, 2014
Location: Moraine State Park
Time:
Overall Rank: X out of 60
Age Group Rank: 5 out of 7
Results: http:

SWIMMING
60 degrees. The water temperature of Lake Arthur at Moraine State Park where we did the swim. Earlier in the week it was 67 degrees but today the fishing website says 60. In any case, my wetsuit kept me comfortable. Air temperatures ranged from 66 to 79.

60% chance of rain. The forecast looked quite bad for a race, and things didn’t look good at the start. Dark clouds and a brief rain shower came in just as we were entering the water at 8:30am. Otherwise, we had no rain for the rest of the day.

6 buoys. The swim course was a giant triangle marked off by six large orange buoys. This would have been an adequate number of buoys on a clear day, but today the skies were dark and the water was gray. My newest pair of goggles is tinted gray, so I was not seeing well at all. Between the second and third buoy I got disoriented and swam 90 degrees off course for several strokes. I looked up, and seeing no buoy, stopped swimming. As I treaded water, I couldn’t find any buoy at all, and then I saw one 50-100 yards away. I was about to swim toward it when I saw a pack of swimmers moving past it to the left. Their direction of movement was not what I was expecting, and this is when I realized I was looking back toward a buoy I had already swum past. I turned around and picked out the proper buoy I should swim to, where I eventually joined that pack of swimmers. I would have been well ahead of them if I had stayed on course! (It’s my fault I got turned around, but this does suggest the race needed more kayakers and boats watching for wayward swimmers like me)

17th place. I finished my 1.2 mile swim in 36:38, which was the 17th fastest amongst 60 competitors. Dan was 2:02 ahead of me and came in 11th. Given that Dan was not that far ahead of me, I guess my getting lost during the swim did not set me back as far as I was thinking.

BIKING
16.0 mph. This is our average speed on the bike during the first of two 29.25 loops on the bike route. This number dropped to 15.2 mph by mile 40 and was 14.5 mph at mile 58. The bike course consisted of two loops along country roads in and near Moraine State Park. It was a challenging course with no flats at all. We were either descending fast or climbing slow.

39.6 mph. This is my maximum speed during the race. I tend to keep it under 40 for safety reasons. In this case, nearly every downhill segment ended with sharp curve or stop sign so I had to be conservative. I am very pleased that Dan and I arrived a day early and drove the route in his car so we could see what the hazards were going to be. Cyclists (and motorists, too) tend to treat Stop signs like Yield signs. This is especially true during a race. Today though, I had to stop for a couple cars at an intersection and both front and rear tires skidded as I stopped. I was headed downhill and the pavement was still wet from the earlier rain shower. Skidding on wet pavement is something to avoid, but I never lost control of the bike, so this episode did not diminish my fun.

4,367 feet. This is the total elevation climb of the course when all hills are added up together (according to MapMyRide.com). Dan and I were trying to figure out how this bike course compared to the first day of our MS150 ride back in June. On that day we rode 86 miles and climbed 4,758 feet at an average speed of 15.4 mph. If one compares the feet climbed/mile for each of the two rides, today’s race course was 26% harder than the MS150 ride. “Who chose this triathlon to do?” asked Dan during one of the six biggest hills. “I think it was you!” I said.

Three. This is the number of chipmunks that scurried across the road right in front of my bike. I would have lost control if any of them chosen the wrong way to go. I also avoided driving over a spotted newt, a frog, and countless caterpillars. In fact, it’s a good day when I don’t kill anything with my bicycle!

Three. This is also the number of Honey Stinger Waffles I ate while on the bike. I drank 42 ounces of water and 21 ounces of Gatorade. I have had varying levels of success staying hydrated and fueled during my previous triathlons, so I had to be careful not to drink or eat too little or too much. I think I found the right combination today. I was in good shape for the bike but was very hungry toward the end of the run. My hydration was perfect, though. We athletes are always paying attention to our urine. I visited the port-a-john in the transition zone at the end of the bike ride and it took me a full minute to empty my bladder. My urine was also light in color. This means I had good hydration and I wasn’t hydrolyzing much muscle protein, either. About 5 hours into the race, I was still feeling good.

40 miles. This is about where the aid station was on the bike course. Dan and I stopped to fill our water bottles. We asked for food, too, since it was announced there would be food at the aid stations (bananas and energy gels). The friendly volunteers had no food to give us, but they had food for themselves that would soon arrive. “That was the pizza guy; he’ll be here in one minute,” said one volunteer to the other as Dan and I pedaled off. Pizza would not have been a good food to serve athletes in a race, but it sure sounded good. Volunteers need to eat, but I craved a banana and didn’t get one. Dan was hungry, and so were two other athletes that passed us around that time.

51 miles (7.5 miles to go). This is the point in the bike segment where Dan started to lag far behind me. I stopped at the crest of a hill and waited about 30 seconds for him. He unclipped from his pedals so I knew he needed to rest. His hands were shaking as if he were shivering. I often shiver at swim meets so I joked “it’s your turn to shiver.” He wasn’t in the mood for a joke. He was tired. In fact, I was really concerned for my friend. I did not think he was having a medical emergency; he was simply exhausted and needed food. But there was no food, and there was no one else I could ask for food. Only one athlete passed us by during these minutes we were stopped, and she had no food and was hungry herself. Dan really wasn’t improving but somehow he found the motivation to get back on his bike. I decided to let him set the pace and I followed closely. I was worried that Dan would lose his ability to stay upright on the bike. And then what would I do?

53 miles (5.5 miles to go). This is where Dan was saved and I was surprised. Dan’s wife and cousins had been cheering for us the whole day, and this included driving to different places along the bike route to cheer us on. And there they were at mile 53. I was praying they had food they could give Dan, and sure enough, they got us some pretzels to eat. (This was one of three USAT rules that we broke, but to hell with that). As Danise was caring for Dan she said to me “Go ahead to that stop sign. You’ll be glad you did.” I didn’t know what to think but I wondered…could it be? And sure enough, it was. My girlfriend Shannan was standing there with a big grin. She had gotten up early and driven a few extra hours from Ohio to surprise me. It meant the world to me.

4:29:03. This is how long it took us to do the bike ride. Dan was determined to keep going, “even if they disqualify us [for taking too long].” How long would it take to walk 13 miles? A long time, but I would do it with him.

RUNNING
21 minutes. This is about how many minutes of walking we did during the 13.1 mile running route. Maybe it was more. Yes, probably it was more. But I only remember stopping to walk 6 times along the paved, shaded, and beautiful path along Lake Arthur. At the very start, Dan was recovering but still fatigued and he encouraged me to go ahead of him. He would walk and I would run. I refused, so within a couple minutes Dan decided he would try to run. That went well but his confidence was shaken—we still had at least 2 hours to go and we didn’t want to push him too hard. So at mile 2 we walked again. I watched the clock and got us running again after 3 minutes. At mile 3 we stopped and walked 3 more minutes, then started up again. We did the same at mile 4. There were actually a lot of athletes who were walking.

5 miles (8.1 miles to go). We did not stop at mile 5 to walk. Dan was doing quite well now, and it was me who was starting to lag behind his pace. I wasn’t concerned about myself at this point, and since Dan was doing fine, we just ran for a while. Between miles 6.5 and 8.5 I started to lose motivation. Little pains were springing up all over my body and I couldn’t distract myself from them. I stopped to walk briefly after every water station (every mile or so). Dan was having fun joking with the people at the aid stations. I appreciated that a lot, but was too tired to contribute. I told Dan that during the last 5K (3.1 miles) of the race I would not walk. I don’t remember why I broke that goal, but I remember we stopped to walk once during that last section (oh well). By the time we reached the finish line I think my walking stride would have been longer than my running stride. But it’s a run. Nobody walks across a finish line!

2:08:15. This is the time we took to run 13.1 miles. Dan and I crossed the finish line together, so we were puzzled when it was announced that I took 5th place in my age group. I guess there are no ties, so I got 5th place because compared to Dan, my last name comes first in the alphabet, or my race number (122) was less than his (123). I have never had my name announced as a winner. Cool! Of course, there were only 7 people in my age group so a 5th place is not really something to celebrate.