The Thrifty Triathlete

"I love it when a plan comes together." These words were heard every week in the early 1980's on NBC's show, The A-Team. Colonel "Hannibal" Smith could be heard making this comment each time his team worked their way out of a tough situation. Usually, their success was dependent upon their creating a plan out of bits and pieces of things they found laying around.

So it goes for triathletes unable to afford the expense of hiring a full time coach. Even the cheapest of plans for half-Ironman and Ironman training can cost hundreds of dollars. Like The A-Team, thrifty triathletes must piece together a program from what is available for free. Luckily, the Internet minimizes the challenges associated with gathering information for building such a plan.

I've been busy digging up various training programs. Once collected, they will be reviewed for common threads, taken apart, and put back together in a manner that will best suit my needs over the next several months. Like Colonel Smith, I love it when a plan comes together.

The two things I have noted, thus far, is that plans seem to vary considerably on overall schedule and the official program from start to race day will run from 4-5 months. I will likely use a 20-week program as the base, keep Monday as a rest day, and use several four week micro-sessions I've come across for the winter months. It also seems that most of the programs DON'T have strength training included. So, I will continue to sift through available plans and find some that do.

As I start building this, I will be calling upon those of you with half and Ironman experience for your input. And if anyone has a basic plan that worked for them, it would be greatly appreciated if you shared whatever is available. I do, however, acknowledge that such plans tend to be highly personalized. For this first time out, I will personalize my own plan.

Given the goal of finishing, most drills in any discipline will focus on form and endurance. I will incorporate speedwork into the last six to eight weeks, and also into some of the winter micro-sessions. If the journey is half the fun, creating the road map should make things even more interesting.

And if this plan works, I will be able to look at all the money saved and justify using some of it to pay for an IM distance race in 2008. Well, in my head, at least.

Extreme Triathlete Makeover

Anyone familiar with ABC's Extreme Home Makeover knows that most episodes begin with an old house being torn down in some new and exciting way. The existing house is generally so unacceptable that a "makeover" is pointless. Starting over and building from the foundation up is generally easier.

Sometimes, the same can be said for an aspiring endurance athlete. When the individual beginning the journey is inactive, 50-60 pounds overweight, and leading a generally unhealthy lifestyle, an extreme triathlete makeover is needed (since this is, after all, a triathlon blog). And like Extreme Home Makeover, the best way to start is to tear down the existing structure before starting the real work.

That's how I feel, lately. Marathon training resulted in a loss of nearly 30 pounds in several years, and my general health went from poor to better than most. Both my endurance and my speed increased. The introduction of triathlon training to the mix has led to additional, and much faster, gains. I've dropped another 25 pounds in 6 months, and will soon fall under the 170 lb. mark. It is entirely likely that I will hit a point (165 lbs) where I have to consider increasing my dietary intake to maintain that weight.

The existing structure has been torn down, and a larger, stronger foundation is in place. It is now time for the design team to step in and get busy rebuilding. Like the cast of Extreme Home Makeover, I am faced with many tasks, all vital to the new and improved athlete. And like the television show, it will take a great deal of work to accomplish these tasks and achieve my goals.

So, here is the "sketch" of what must be built.

First, the foundation must be strengthened. This will take some serious effort with weights. I've never been a fan of the weight room, but all things point to the importance of strength training. So, a key focus for this off-season will be adding at least one weekly strength training session, two if possible.

The foundation must also be expanded. I'm approaching limits of my ability to increase speed, so I'll be going back to the heart rate monitor. I will spend the winter working on improving my aerobic capacity through targeted heart rate training, with a limited period of speed work leading up to a mid-winter 15K race. That will be used to evaluate my progress and identify any needed changes.

Finally, the end result needs to be more of an amphibious vehicle than a permanent structure. So I will be digging around for some serious swim drills. Total Immersion will come back into the picture as I pursue comfort with bilateral breathing. I will also work to better vary the pace of my swimming, in an effort to improve speed in the water. In other words, swimming is going to be my friend. Or I'll hate it. But either way, I will be faster come spring time.

I've experienced a lot of personal change in the past few years, and even more dramatic changes in the past six months. Most of that change has been of the "accidental" nature. I trained, and changes occurred. With a few, limited exceptions, these changes have been unplanned and uncoordinated. Now, like the designers of Extreme Home Makeover, it is time to start making changes with a specific outcome in mind. It is time to build the best endurance athelete possible with the available materials. Stay tuned. New seasons always promise new and exciting storylines.

By the Numbers

Just for Mister P. over at Neoprene Wedgie, here's how the numbers breakdown from the official results of this weekends triathlon (full race report below).

Swim - 23m27s, 299/349, 10:40 (2m40s/100 yds, compared to 2m42s/100 last week). That's not too bad considering how wiped I felt in the swim.

T1 - 3m46s, including a long, uphill run to get there.

Bike - 59m33s, 111/349, (20.15 mph compared to 18.6 mph last week). Given the double time trial training Friday, I'll take it.

T2 - 1m3s, with most of the improvement from actually remembering how my shoes work.

Run - 30m12s, 294/349, (9m45s/mile compared to 7m51s last week). Given my co-workers GI distress, I think he maintained a good pace.

I'm not sure how I forgot this in the original post:

Overall - 1h58m0s, 238/349 (the "349" represents total males. There were 229 females, 72 finishing before me. That would make me something like 309 of 578 total. Leaving me still struggling to break the upper half.

Update on co-worker: He called to thank me again, last night. He mentioned that his stomach still felt like he'd spent the day as a punching bag. Anyone with any ideas beyond it being a result of his stomach rebelling over the use of gels, please let me know.

BTW, he's obviously hooked. He spent most of our call going over the race, and detailing how he could do better, next time. He was excited that, though weak on the swim, he was able to make up so much ground on the bike. He was also distressed to have lost so much on the run. His focus is already on next year, and what races he will want to do.

W.A.T. Race Report

In January, a group of 8th graders challenged me, a marathoner, to complete a triathlon. The way they saw it, running one more marathon wasn't a new adventure. A non-swimmer entering a triathlon would be. So, I went off on a quest to find a triathlon I could enter. Preferably a really short one. I'm thankful I found a broad range of races. I was concerned that Ironman Kona might be the only option available.

As I searched, the first local race I found was the Waupaca Area Triathlon. Only 45 minutes from home, this was a good possibility. The 20 mile bike, no problem. A run under 5K, piece of cake. Half-mile swim. Without even being sure exactly how far 1/2 mile is, that was sure to be the problem. And a bit of quick math proved my fears. 880 yards. That's a bit long for someone who can't swim 100 yards without dying. Surely there is a shorter triathlon.

After some more digging, I came across the Trinity Triathlon. With a 220 yard swim, that was just what the doctor ordered. Even if I had to dog paddle, I was certain I could complete that distance. History proved me right, though the race certainly had it's share of other excitment. And somewhere along the way of training for Trinity, I found myself hooked by the idea of being a triathlete.

Enter Veeg, and the Oshkosh Area Olympic Distance challenge. Bloggers, it seems, are a bit like my Brigaders. I seem to have an abundance of friends ready to challenge me to grow and improve. Not only did I survive this second race, it was an incredible opportunity for me to see exactly what I can accomplish.

Which brings us to this day. In previous posts, it was mentioned that a co-worker was running the Waupaca race, and that I would be there to support him. At 7:30 last night, he called to let me know that he had switched his girlfriend's registration to my name. That led to a flurry of activities to get me ready for an early departure in the morning.

First, there was a transition bag to be packed. Too bad that was at my office (more on that in a bit). No biggie, that duffle bag is getting worn, I'll just buy a new one when I go to get dishwashing detergent. My wife was quick to point out that I should also pick up new goggles, a swim cap, ear plugs, and anything else that might be in the bag. Ouch, you have to hate it when someone is that right.

So, plans continued to change, and I headed back to the office, which is 28 miles away (remember that, as it will be important, later). An hour and a half later, I was back at home with all my gear (and laundry detergent). I quickly packed my bag, double checked everything, left notes for things to be done in the morning, and got back to work on my sermon for Sunday.

I went to bed in time to get six hours of sleep, knowing that I probably wouldn't sleep all that well, anyway. I was wrong. For once, I slept like a rock the night before a race.

We had another beautiful day for a triathlon. There was a hint of rain (which only amounted to a few minutes of light sprinkles), and the temperature was about 70F with little to no wind.

The swim was an out and back with plenty of lifeguard support. The water was the clearest of any open water swim I've had this year, meaning I could see all the way to my hand. That gave me the ability to actually see bodies and legs BEFORE slamming into them, and even avoid some of them. It went about the same as the Oshkosh race, though I spent more time in the breaststroke. The events of the past 24 hours had left me a bit drained (more on that in a bit). The official results aren't out, yet, and my swim was something like 22 minutes. Add another 1/4 mile and you wind up pretty close to the pace I had during last week's race.

I headed into T1 and chatted with my co-worker. Despite his voiced concerns about the swim, he had done well, beating me out of the water by a minute or two. His form was a bit ragged, but he made up for that with determination and sheer force.

The lessons learned in the past two races helped me get out of T1 a bit more quickly. I used my new race belt, which helped. I took off running, hoping to catch up to my co-worker before he got too far down the road.

The bike course was a pleasant surprise. Much of this race goes over the course of the Trinity Triathlon. It was a nice to see the route from the bike, instead of on foot. The events that left me sapped during the swim had, oddly enough, had less impact on the bike. I finished the (just over) 20 mile route in just under an hour. My computer shows an average pace of 20.6 mph. We'll see what the official results show, when they're available.

I hit T2 in time to see my co-worker, again. I had been chasing him hard on the bike. It appears he understated his abilities on the bike as much as he had on the swim. He headed out almost as soon as I racked my bike. I got out of the helmet, switched shoes, threw on my hat, and headed out for the run. Please note the time saving process of not actually removing my cycling gloves. At least it was only the gloves. My helmet wouldn't have fit in my jersey pockets so nicely.

I caught up with my co-worker after about a quarter mile. While I'm certainly a faster runner, that surprised me. He had dogged me so badly in the swim and bike that I figured I'd spend most the run trying to get past him. As I pulled up beside him, complimenting his progress to that point, he indicated that he was in some fairly severe GI distress (my words, he just said it hurt like hell). His face better conveyed his discomfort.

It seems he had broke one of the rules of racing. Around mile five on the bike, he had used his first ever sports gel. Chased with a bunch of Gatorade, which was also new. Now, on the run, he was learning the lesson of WHY we train the way we race. Rather than continue on, I adjusted my pace and stayed with him on the run.

He was hoping for a quick fix, and the best I could tell him was to get some water at an aid station, and see if that would help. He just wanted to get sick. The water didn't help much, and he never got sick.

Even so, we maintained close to 8:30 miles, and he handled the GI distress to the end. We crossed the finish line just under 2 hours after we started. We were in the same swim wave, and I let him go ahead just at the end. So, in his first race, my co-worker will be able to say he beat me by about one second. He will also be honest enough to point out that the real victory was in his finish. He proved that with training, he can become competitive in his age group. Mostly, he proved that he can also do more than he thought himself capable of.

Oh yeah, I promised some "more on that later." Here's a recipe for turning a shorter race into a real challenge. The day prior to race day, complete not one, but two 28 mile time trials. My co-workers were interested in seeing The Pol-R Express, and, by all appearances, my racing seemed a long shot. So, I bike the 28 miles to work, starting at 5 a.m. I maintained just under 20 mph average, and then worked until 4 p.m. Then, I headed back the same route, hoping to "negative split" the day, bumping the pace closer to 21 mph.

It was this biking that resulted in my gear being at the office. My clothes, toiletries, and nutrition had to be waiting for me, and left there Friday. The 56 miles on the bike, 90 minutes chasing down gear, and relatively late night left me less than 100% for the day. In the end, it wound up being exactly what was needed, as my co-worker was on his own for the swim and bike, and I was there to help him when he most needed it. All in all, a great day at the races.

Weekends

Hang out in any office across the country on Friday and you will hear all the events people have planned for the weekend. Two things that many consider as vital during the weekend are sleeping in and relaxing. Hang out with triathletes on a Friday and you will hear significantly different topics being discussed. Sleep and relax aren't generally included.

Looking back on weekends before getting involved in endurance sports, I'm amazed at how little was accomplished. And oddly enough, it always seemed there weren't enough hours in the weekend to do everything that needed doing. You know, sitting on the couch watching t.v. Going out to eat and catch a movie. Laying around recovering from sleeping in and watching cartoons.

Now, I'm usually attempting to get home from a 2000 yard swim and 40 mile bike ride in time to play with B-Boy while he watches Lazytown (go Sporticus). Or complete a 20 mile run before the kids get up for church. Or waking up at 3:30 in order to have a pre-race breakfast before heading out so I can be at the starting line at least an hour prior to race start.

We still do the important things. We go to church, we play outside with the kids, we have get togethers with our friends, and we try to catch up on some sleep (okay, this never happens, but we pretend). It's amazing how much can be accomplished when "sitting around doing nothing" is removed from the equation.

How many people do you know who claim they would exercise, but there just isn't time? When I sold securities, we used to ask people how many times in a month they had pizza (or other favorite junk food). We would then point out that cutting a pizza or two out of the mix frees up enough money to invest. Imagine putting a similar question to those without the time to exercise. How many shows did you watch, this week? How much time did you waste on the computer (remembering that time spent reading these blogs isn't wasted)? How much time could be freed up if some of this wasted time was put to good use?

I no longer look at weekends as "downtime." They are more "me time." There is work to be done, and it will tire me out. But it's a good tired. The tired that comes from pushing yourself to do things others consider impossible. Pushing yourself to go further, faster, or longer. The kind of tired that doesn't seem so bad when people start to see your accomplishments.

So, I go into this weekend knowing the 20 miler on Sunday will wipe me out. And Saturday's training (whether racing or running), will also be tiring. But I also know that I'll be better for it, come Monday.

Hobby or Way of Life?

Training. Racing. More training to improve upon the weaknesses from the last race. Is this a hobby, or a way of life?

The answer to that question tells a lot about the person providing the answer.

A co-worker is preparing to race his first sprint distance triathlon. In an odd twist of reality, I would now refer to the race as "short." Half mile swim, 20 mile bike, 5K run. No big deal. The challenge will be the swim. And not because the swim is challenging for everyone, but because of the answer to the above question. Hobby, or way of life?

Twice this week, I showed up at the pool ready to help him with his swim. I had intentionally scheduled shorter swims to allow time to offer what meager guidance I have at my disposal. Twice this week, I completed significantly longer swims because there was nobody to train. Twice this week, my answer was "way of life" while his was "hobby."

His failure to make it to the pool doesn't concern me, too much. I was there to swim, regardless. And if the swim beats him on Saturday, it will be his lesson and his DNF. If he looks at training and racing as something that can be skipped, that's fine, as well.

Each of us must make the decision. Hobby, or way of life? By the way, the answer is best judged by actions, not words. What happens when the alarm goes off at 4:30 a.m. for a 5 o'clock morning swim session? Is it a jump out of bed to silence the alarm and get out of the house without waking anyone? Or is it a roll to hit the snooze button? What about when life gets complicated and finding time to train becomes challenging? Is it one more session that gets skipped, or one more situation where creativity allows the training to happen?

And here's a little secret. Either answer is okay. Some people planning a lifetime of triathlons will find that triathlons aren't really their thing. Others thinking about one small race will soon find themselves scraping together the $450 for an Ironman race. All are participating in a challenging sport, doing more than the average American ever considers.

And I'll be there, Saturday, supporting my co-worker as he races his first triathlon. And if the outcome is less than he hopes for, I'll be there afterward to offer suggestions for improvement. Because even if this is a hobby for him, it has quickly become a way of life, for me.

The More Things Change...

Well, triathlon season is winding down for this midwesterner. With the possible exception of running a sprint next weekend, my last race for 2006 will be the Fox Cities Marathon in September. A co-worker racing in his first triathlon has asked if I will join with him in the 1/2 mile swim, 20 mile bike, 5K run event. I'll be there to support him, no matter what, and plan on taking my gear, just in case.

Even so, in typical Pol fashion, my focus is already on the 2007 season. Several races are given. There will be a Valentine's Day (or close) 15K race in February. Relatively new, this race is a wonderful test of how the winter training programs are progressing. The Green Bay Marathon is generally in May, and it is quite likely I will run the full marathon again, next year. And then, triathlons will be starting up, again. I will leave behind the newbie status I carried, this year. While still learning, the experiences of these first few races will serve me well.

Those experiences will be called upon as the plans are already being laid for at least one half-Ironman in 2007. There is also the Chicago Accenture Olympic distance, which may have a huge draw from the TBC. If TriGreyhound can make it from Texas, there is little reason why I can't drive the 3 hours to get there.

One thing that will stay the same is the level and intensity of training. Though I will take some time off after the marathon, October will find me developing a winter training program aimed at improving my swimming (including bilateral breathing and speedwork), building upon my aerobic base, and integrating strength training into the mix. The gains of the summer and successes of the first triathlon season will be capitalized upon, and I will go into 2007 ready to better every PR set in 2006.

Race Pictures

Okay, it took some time, but I was finally able to prove two things. First, I can kick bloggers butt and work around their goofy issues. Second, I'll go through a lot to get these pictures posted for everyone to see. FYI, if you are running into issues uploading pictures, here's one possible solution. Blogger seems to have a refresh issue affected by either cache files or cookies. I deleted my history, cache, and cookies after each upload and was able to get all of the pictures uploaded. Sometimes, I had to back all the way out and open a new window. Yippeee! What fun. So, without further delay, here are the better pictures from the race, along with a few helpful comments.

Helmet, check. Water bottles, umm, water bottles?

So, where DID I hide my bottles? And why aren't they in their cages?

Exiting T1 and heading for the bike mount area

Heading into T2 after a short bike ride

A visit with my biggest fan

Finishing strong

35 miles and still smiling (there must be a camera somewhere)

Carry me, Daddy

Racing with Veeg

Here is a picture of Veeg and me (along with Monster Girl). Veeg was the driving force behind my even starting this Olympic distance race. I think it went something like, "If you sign up for the Olympic distance, so will I." A decision with which I had struggled for several days was easily made with motivation like that. It was wonderful to meet another member of the TBC. And like so many other encounters about which I've read, this was one meeting I was glad took place. And Veeg, just wait until the next discussion starts. High Cliff or Spirit of Racine half-IM?

A new picture for the profile. See a common thread?

Racing the Stars

As triathletes, we all have big weekends. That A race we've been training for, the special charity race, or first attempts at a new distance. Each is special in its own way. And then, there are the HUGE weekends. I had one of those.

This weekend of big events began on Friday. Our local triathlon club, the Tri Foxes, played host to Sarah Reinertsen, as she came into town for the Olympic distance triathlon. Sarah, like so many other well known triathletes, was super cool. She did a fun run with us on Friday, posing for all the pictures people wanted and signing autographs. One guy even had his Griffen triathlon bike autographed. I managed to suppress the urge to outdo him by having my firstborn autographed. We did, however, get some pictures.

Sarah also took the time to participate in the Transition Olympics being held by Kahuna. You will be able to stop by his place and see my submission in that contest. Oddly enough, that was the only time I saw her, as she apparently crushed me in the race.

This was also race weekend. The Oshkosh Area Olympic triathlon was my first attempt at that distance, and a chance to redeem myself after the brutal circumstances in my first ever triathlon. So, here's the race report (sort of):

The weather was beautiful. It was about 70F, with little to no wind. The sun was out and it stayed that way the entire race. We couldn't have asked for better conditions.

Somehow, I managed to be an early bird in the registration process and found myself in wave two (of about 12). The one absolute blessing is that they changed the direction of the swim. It was planned as a counter-clockwise out and back. Putting the bouys on my left side is an open invitation to my swimming out to sea. The change put the bouys on the right, offering just enough protection against that happening. And, for the most part, it worked like a champ. I did run into a few bouys, and only wound up WAY off course once. That time, I nearly wound up crossing the outbound swimmers and going into the sprint swim lanes. I'm fairly certain I swam an extra 1/4 mile.

Since race organizers hadn't gone through the effort of importing crystal clear waters from the Caribbean or Hawaii, we had visibility of about 8 inches. I could see my bubbles, but not my hands. Knowing this was a challenge, I spent time visualizing the pool. I pretended I could see the lane lines at the pool, and imagined it was just a weekend training swim. It didn't help much at all, but every good coach will tell you to visualize. The good note is that I managed to maintain my crawl stroke for 80+% of the swim. Only when other swimmers dragged me under or when sighting did I break form. This was a huge accomplishment, and probably had a major impact on my time. I forgot to start my watch, but I came in right at 36 minutes. Given 2 minutes delay between waves, it was roughly 34 minutes swim time for an average of almost exactly 2:30/100 yards. Since that's about what I average in the pool, I'm happy with it.

T1 went fairly well. Lessons learned from reading blogs and my one other race helped a lot. I had a bucket with water to rinse my feet, and had everything laid out well. One minor mistake is that I forgot to put my bottles into the cages on the bikee. I freaked out at first, then remembered they were in my bag. This was actually a good thing, as the bottles were still cold. Time in T1 - 4:29. I have pictures, but as has seemingly become the norm for Blogger, it will only allow me to upload on picture per post. I'll post others at a later time.

The bike went very well. By "very well," I mean there were no busted chains, flat tires, or other mechanical failures. The winds, non-existent during the swim, did rear their ugly heads partyway through the bike. The course was well laid out, and I managed to maintain an average pace of just over 18 mph. That was enough to help me make up a lot of the ground I lost in the swim. The course did seem a bit longish. And by "longish" I mean that the 28 mile course seems to have actually been 29 miles. I measured that, and Mrs. Pol indicated that at least one other racer commented on that during transition.

T2 was seamless, as it is just a change out of bike shoes into running shoes. I had some difficulty getting out of my cycling shoes, though that may have had something to do with my momentary loss of brain function that led me to keep ratcheting them tighter, all while wondering why I couldn't release the strap. After remembering how my shoes work, I headed out, stopping by to get a high five from B-Boy and pose for a few pictures. Time in T2 - 2:27

The run was an out and back, allowing us to see all of the runners, and how far ahead they were. There was, however, on extremely long, straight stretch that allowed me to see lots of targets to pick off. I decided that each person in front of me MUST be passed, and that helped me keep up a good pace. As with the bike, I made up a lot of ground, and was only passed by one person. My 10K time was only 30 sec/mile slower than my personal best, and I finished the run in about 48:05 for an average pace of 7:45/mile.

My overall time, by the official clock was 3:02 and some seconds. Given the 2 minutes between waves, my time would have been just over three hours. Not bad for a first attempt.

George Schweitzer's recommendation for the race was to leave it all out on the course. So, I thought about a few things during the race. For the swim, I thought about Iron Wil doing her 4K swims. I thought about all the dolphins out there, and tried to pass at least a few people in the water. I gave everything I could in the open water. On the bike, I kept Bolder in mind, and gave my all, because "It's all about the bike." I didn't have much bike left in me, at the end of the ride. And on the run, I pushed as hard as I could to break my 10K PR. I missed by a few minutes, but didn't have much left in the tank at the end of the race. Just enough to pick up B-Boy and smile for the camera.

And then, we waited to get a picture of Veeg as she finished. This was also her first Olympic triathlon, and we wanted to make sure we got a picture of her finish. Like Sarah Reinertsen, Veeg was awesome. She went through the effort of finding me at the race, no small feat as there were more than 500 racers. We were in the same wave, and she blew me away on the swim. She was just heading out on the bike when I was coming into T1. And she fought through some serious leg cramps on the bike to finish well under her goal time of four hours. I think she came in pretty close to 3:25. So stop by and congratulate her. She did awesome.

So, it was a HUGE weekend, racing with the stars. And how did I do where goals are concerned. Well, let's review.

1. Avoid drowning while doing forward crawl most of the swim - check

2. Have fun - big check

3. Finish under 3 hours - Missed it by THAT much

4. Not finish dead last as the result of mechanical or other failures - check

The Waiting is the Hardest Part

Tom Petty and the Heartbreakers were a mainstay of music for children of the 80s. One of his songs seems quite applicable to the days approaching a big race. The training is over and race day looms. The last few days prior to the race are always a roller coaster of emotions. The waiting truly is the hardest part.

It's something that never seems to go away. Oh, we can do things to try and take our minds off of the approaching test. We throw ourselves at our work, and find ourselves distracted by the need to take another look at the course layout. We play with our kids, but soon find our attention focusing on the race expo events. And late at night, when we should be sleeping, thoughts about gear preparation sneak into our minds and keep us awake. The waiting is the hardest part.

Months out, our focus is on training. We register for that big race, and then put our all into getting prepared, making sure we are ready to bring our A Game to our A Race. We test nutrition plans, purchase new gear and gadgets, and barely consider the race itself. Weeks out, we shift our attention to tapers and reduced training. But that focus is not all consuming. Days out, just like other life changing events, our attention becomes more and more focused away from everyday events and onto that big race. The waiting is the hardest part.

Gremlins start to pop up everywhere they see weakness. Am I ready for the open water swim? Are those mechanical problems from the bike going to crop up, again? Has the training been sufficient for the task at hand? The little buggers pick the last days before the race to begin an earnest attack on self-confidence. The waiting is the hardest part.

But race day will come, as it always does. And the waiting will end. The gun will sound, the gremlins will be left in the wake of swimming bodies, and we will see that the training was sufficient. It will be challenging, just as the training was. But the race won't be the biggest challenge. The waiting is the hardest part.

Renaming Ceremony

When I created my first blog, The Running Pol, some amount of thought went into the name. As I moved into triathlons and joined the TBC (tri blog community), this blog's name just flowed from that. When it came to my wife and kids, the creativity was gone. They simply became offshots of the "Pol" name.

It's time to correct that. While my wife will continue to go by the Pol name, or by the very honored title of Iron Sherpa, our children have their own identities and should have their own names.

My son, whose name begins with B, has a great love of anything that involves a ball. Baseball, basketball, soccer, or throwing things he thinks are balls. So, in honor of the B theme, Toddler Pol will henceforth be referred to as B-Boy. At such time as he becomes truly aware of this blog and/or wants to give his own nickname, we'll change it, again.

My daughter is another story. Her name begins with M, and she has a tendency to growl. We're not quite sure where it comes from, but when she's really happy, she'll sit and growl at you. The frequency with which she does that led my wife to inadvertently provide her new name. Baby Pol will now be known as Monster Girl.

When time avails itself, I'll post some pictures of both of them so faces can be put with names.

Laugh Out Loud

There's a guy who works out at the YMCA where I swim. He's a big man. To quote a comedian I once heard, "He's a really big man. He has little skinny guys orbiting around him."

To be fair, he is a weight lifter. So his "big" is more a function of being built like a tank than a Weeble. And on his doctor's advice, he is trying to move from just weight training into aerobic type activities. He walks on the track, and has recently been hitting the pool.

He truly struggles in his attempts at swimming. He acknowledges that he is "not a swimmer" and feels like he is fighting just to survive. I've been trying to do two things for him. First, give him some pointers, including suggesting possible reading material. Second, I've been trying to convince him that we've all been there. When he looks at others in the pool, all he sees are people swimming with apparent ease. He doesn't see all of the hours spent in the pool getting there.

If there is one thing I've noticed about the Tri Blog Community is our ability to see our weaknesses, and to laugh at ourselves. You can visit just about any site and fine some example of a "rookie mistake," and the person who made that mistake sharing it with the world. That attitude is vital when beginning training. Except for some very gifted people who have natural abilities in all three disciplines, we all have to go through the learning process. And that's a process that can be quite humorous.

A good example is my first half-marathon. In training, I ran 13.5 miles to get ready for a 13.1 mile race. More experienced runners found that hilariously funny. When they stopped laughing, they gave me some pointers. I ran that race without socks, wearing a plain cotton t-shirt. A few people commented on both, and gave me some feedback about technical apparel. Looking back now, I see why it seemed so funny, and can laugh at myself.

Swimming was another area where I couldn't take myself too seriously. If pride had been an issue, there is no way I could have hopped into a pool full of dolphins and taken up a lane to do my back-float, skate, and other TI drills. And in the end, I learned that nobody else was laughing. They, too, had been there. They were willing to share the lane because they knew it would only be a short time before they would have another distance swimmer in their midst. (Okay, a slow distance swimmer, but a swimmer nonetheless)

We've all had those moments when we just have to sit and laugh. It's either that, or cry. In his first Ironman attempt, Roman Mica flatted out 8 times. Though extremely frustrated, he finished the race. Norman Stadler flatted twice in Kona. He threw his bike around, waited for the support vehicle, then quit the course. He forgot to laugh at himself.

In her first Olympic race, Nytro got stung by a bee on the bike course. She could have called it quits, as bee stings can be quite serious. She took in typical Nytro fashion, and found the humor in it. Even if the humor was her reaction. (Because I'd pay money to see Nytro on the road cursing at a bee)

In our pursuit of personal excellence, we have to remember that this is supposed to be fun. Yes, it's hard. Yes, it is sometimes physically painful. And yes, sometimes we miss our goals. If we can't step back and laugh at ourselves, or at least at the situation, then we will lose mentally. And at the end of many races, mental is all you have left to give.

So remember to laugh out loud. Let the race, others around you, and the world know that you are having fun. And maybe, just maybe, if you laugh maniacally enough, you'll scare a few people around you and move up a few spots.

Various Ramblings

Woohoo For Nytro!

She completed her first Olympic distance triathlon. The swim report has been posted, and if her bike and run went anywhere near as well as the swim, she did awesome. Her swim time was great for an admitted beginner in the sport. She should be proud, and I know that Iron Benny is proud of her. Stop by and congratulate her on the awesome performance.

In other triathlon news, both Buttercup (NancyToby's) and The Pol-R Express experienced flats on their rear tires, this weekend. Nancy had hers during the Steelhead half-IM race. Mine came during my 75 mile brick training. Oddly, it appears that both happened around the 40 mile point of the ride. Even more conspiratorial is that we both ride the same make and model of bike. Hmmmm! Congratulations to Nancy on the solid finish in her race. Make sure you stop by and give her the kudos she deserves, as well.

The stage is set for Sarah Reinertsen to do a training run with the Fox Cities Triathlon Club on Friday. She will be in town for the Oshkosh Area Triathlon on Sunday. Veeg and I will be in that race, and it will be cool to race with a triathlete with the drive and determination she exhibits. She is a role model of what makes this sport attract so many.

Finally, though the Tracy Chapman song is awesome, I came across this Cake tune, and found it so fitting it just had to be posted. It warrants a bit of research to see what was going through their minds when they wrote it. While it could be symbolic of a great many things, it screams "triathlete."

Less than six days until redemption day arrives. The Pol-R Express will receive a thorough inspection, this week. The run should pose no serious issues. And I've done all I can to prepare myself for the swim. This weekend, Nytro achieved Olympic triathlete status. Next weekend, Veeg and I will join her.

Zero Dark Thirty

When the alarm went off this morning, training seemed like a really bad idea. A long list of issues warranted a day off.

1. Vacation Bible School, which caused extremely late nights (in Iron Pol terms) since Sunday.
2. Sunday's run through the rain in an effort to avoid the lightning (and what turned out to be a tornado) injured my back.
3. It was really dark, and Iron Wil's adventures biking in the dark are best avoided.
4. It certainly had to be raining.

I went so far as to go check out the front window. Nope, no rain. The back, though sore, probably wouldn't suffer from a 20 mile bike ride. And the sun was sure to come up before I left.

So, Iron-in-Training-Self told Whiny-Excuse-Seeking-Self to get his hiney in gear and get out the door. After all, everything was already laid out and ready for the training day.

Most of my friends and co-workers think I'm wacked out. They have enough difficulty understanding why I would get up at 4:30 a.m. ANY day to train. And when I comment that I'm quite tired because of the training in conjunction with the rest of the week, they just shake their heads. It seems they don't get it.

Then again, despite my relative loathing of swimming and running, any other path is out of the question, for me. The kids I lead have placed the challenge before me. As a role model for both these kids and my children, the challenge has been accepted.

And along the way, I have changed. Training schedules that the average person thinks is insane is now just a part of who I am. Waking up a 4:30 in the morning, though difficult on some mornings, is now routine. Swimming 2000 yards before work on Tuesday, or biking 75 miles before cartoons start on Saturday, or running 15 miles before the sun comes up on Sunday now defines me.

They say that anyone who finishes an Ironman can accomplish anything. Many believe that is because it is an amazing task to complete a 2.4 mile swim, 112 mile bike, and 26.2 mile run in one race. And it is amazing. More amazing, though, is what it takes the average person to even get to the starting line.

Anyone who can juggle work, family, and training to complete an Ironman can, in fact, accomplish anything. And anyone who completes the journey will be a far different person than the one who started the journey.

Go get some sleep. Because the morning is coming, and with it, the training and racing that is a part of our lives.

Minor Victories

The road from non-swimming marathoner to triathlete to Ironman is filled with obstacles. And like most triathletes, I see them as hurdles to be overcome. Many of those who see them as road blocks are most likely sitting at home, watching t.v.

Today, I got over another one of those little hurdles. And it was a hurdle in my weakest area. The swim.

While I have completed several long distance swims (over 1 mile) at this point, they have all involved what could be called "rest swimming." Every several hundred yards, the need for air forces me to go to a side position to catch my breath. That, obviously, results in significant lost time. Breathing, however, is more important than time.

This morning, with a 2000 yard swim scheduled, I was determined to make headway in this area. The goal was to go no less than 500 yards before going to my side for those breaths. I am extremely happy as I was able to complete the total distance without a single break. The entire session was "four strokes and breathe."

This is a big boost in confidence. My greatest weakness has always been poor breathing technique. While there is a lot of room for improvement, including bilateral breathing, it is a huge stride to hit the half-Ironman swim distance without having to break out of form just to catch my breath. There's hope for the flounder, yet.

At Flatman's Request

Sometimes, we just have to forge ahead. After repeated attempts, Blogger just refuses to allow any additional pictures to be added to the Computer vs. Surgeon post. After reading the Tribe's race report on Tri-Mama's blog, I saw a glimmer of hope, as they posted several pictures. Apparently, I'm missing something.

Flatman seemed distressed that the promised bike porn wasn't posted, so I've abandoned the hope of adding the pictures to the original post. So, without further ado, a couple pics of The Pol-R Express. As mentioned previously, Mrs. Pol was watching Baby Pol. So Kewl Nitrox will have to continue to wait for pictures of the bike with a rider. Perhaps we'll be able to get those during the upcoming Olympic triathlon.

Iron Daddy

Training for marathons while a full time college student holding down a full time supervisor position in a furniture store requires some creative scheduling. Particularly if there is a wife who likes to receive at least a minimum of attention. Mrs. Pol and I survived that stretch of our lives by being very flexible in all we did.

Training for triathlons while working full time (including helping lead a team implementing a new business system, which is essentially another job), raising two children, and making time for the wife (either together, or so she can have some time to herself), requires even greater flexibility. If nothing else, the past six months of triathlon training have proven that, should I ever go back to only running marathons, training will be much easier to schedule. Mrs. Pol and I have survived this stretch by becoming even more flexible in all we do.

And this week is proving to be the fire in which Iron Daddies are forged. How so many items culminated in one week is beyond me. At work, we are running a pilot for our new software. It requires extended hours at work, none of which are dedicated to my primary responsibilities. At church, it is Vacation Bible School week. This runs from 6-8:15 p.m., leaving me just enough time to run from work to church, and little time for dinner. It is, however, for the children, so being there is vital. And it is the last week of solid training prior to the Olympic distance triathlon on August 13th. Though I won't be tapering (since I'm also training for a full marathon in September), this is the longest week of training I've scheduled.

So, after working from 6:30-5:00, I fly to the church and help run VBS. After shutting down for the night, we head home and work at getting babies to bed. Once that is done, and everything is laid out for the next day, it's off to bed, hopefully before 10 p.m. The alarm goes off at 4:30 a.m. for the day's training, and everything starts, again.

Ironmen are slowforged. It takes a long time to develop the proper temper and strength. Race day, on which we become Ironmen, is only the final step in a long journey. It is a tough journey, and requires dedication. But for those who believe they can't do it, follow any of the blog links on this page. You'll find lots of other people leading busy, challenging lives. Each is pursuing something great. And each will achieve their goals, whether sprint distance or Ironman, only after doing that which is required to achieve the goal.

Computer vs. Surgeon

"Flight computer, what was the average pace for today's training ride?"

"The average pace was 19.8 miles per hour over a total of 44 miles."

"That seems a bit fast, considering it's tough to keep that pace for 20 miles. Are you sure that's accurate."

"The data is accurate. Here is the readout."

"Okay. What was the maximum speed for the session?"

"Maximum speed was 159.6 miles per hour."

"Woohoo! That's sssmokin'. Wait, did you say 159.6, that can't be right."

"Again, the data is accurate. Here is the maximum speed display."


"Well, you have to trust your indications. I guess I'm faster than I thought."

"Excuse me, but as the Flight Surgeon, I must point out that you would certainly have greatly exceeded VO2 max and started building up lactate long before you hit 160 mph. In fact, if you got anywhere near that, you would build up so much lactic acid that we would have to use crowbars to get you off your bike. And I would also like to point out that this trip was 42 miles, last time."

"Hang on a minute, it was pretty windy out there. That could account for the max speed."

"Considering the houses in the area are still standing, it is safe to say that we didn't experience 140 mph sustained winds."

"Well, maybe I was just spinning that fast."

"Given the current configuration of your bike, you would have to pedal somewhere between 300 and 400 rpm to reach 160 mph, even with the wind. I'm willing to bet either you or the bike fly apart long before that."

"Okay, Dr. Smarty Pants, how do you account for the flight computer's readout?"

"Simple, it's an idiot."

And that is a taste of what goes through my mind when I start having equipment act up. Most likely a result of my wireless computer interacting with the magnetic fields of a local power sub-station, I was a bit less than a mile into my trip, stopped at a light, when my speed started showing really odd things, including this 159.6 mph readout. Supposedly, the computer only reads up to 102 mph. At the same time, though I was less than a mile out, the trip distance showed nearly 3 miles. Not bad for sitting at a traffic control light.

That's alright, it provided lots of interesting "conversations" during the 42 mile ride.

Finally, two pictures of The Pol-R Express. The first is just a long overdue picture of the bike. Mrs. Pol was in the house, so I wasn't able to get myself into the picture. That's okay, because I know how everyone reacts to pictures of pasty white triathletes. The second picture is really for Tri Mama's Tribe. Toddler Pol wanted to get into the picture, so I figured I'd post one for them. Note the pajamas. I'd already completed a 2000 yard swim and 42 mile bike, and he was still wearing a combination of baseball (shorts) and dinosaur pajamas.

Note: Blogger was being a pain and refused to take the last two pictures. I'll try again, later, or put them in the next post.

Rides and Razors

Ever since NancyToby experienced the great chain-ring blowout, I've been a bit obsessive about pre-ride checks of The Pol-R Express. That's partly because The Pol-R Express is the exact same make and model (Felt S25) as Buttercup. In part, it's because it is a good practice to give any bike a once over prior to each ride. Mostly, it's because I've had plenty of my own issues with busted chains and flat tires. This morning, I found my first loose bolts.

It appears one cage on my x-wing bottle holder was getting ready to make a break for freedom. The entire cage was wobbly, and required some expert service. Namely, I had to tighten on of the allen bolts holding the receiver bar and reattach the cage. Disaster averted.

Then, in the process of resetting the computer, I somehow wound up in a set up screen. Then, what is usually one circle on the screen became a circle with another incomplete circle around it. "That's different. I vaguely remember seeing something about circles and wheels in the owner's manual as I skimmed through it." After numerous attempts to return to the status quo, it started getting late if I was going to complete my ride. No biggie. The route is exactly 19 miles, and I have a stopwatch. Well, regardless of what the owner's manual tells me those circles mean, I discovered they mean exactly nothing. Computer showed 19 miles even when I returned.

With that mystery at least rendered pointless, I hit the shower. It was getting late, and Friday has turned into leg shaving day. In keeping with the theme of the day, I somehow pulled the entire razor head off the handle while attempting to remove the blade cover. When reattaching the blade, I noticed the high end plastic piece that holds the blade steady had broken.

That's the kind of thing best found out before ever getting into the shower. Or at least prior to lathering up a leg with shaving cream after showering. This was now, however, a "best" kind of day. "No biggie," I thought, "I have one last razor in the closet." Or so I thought. "That's okay, there's the brand new razor kit we found the other day." In the other bathroom.

Oh well, in for a dime, in for a dollar. After all, everyone's asleep. Too bad there was no razor in the other bathroom. I just hauled my naked, wet, shaving creamed self all over the house and had very little to show for it.

After a bit more digging, I did manage to find extra cartridges for the one razor I could find. My wife's razor. And the way I see it, more than one man has had his razor commandeered for use by his wife/girlfriend/some girl he met earlier that morning in a bar to shave their legs. Turnabout is fair play.

Thankfully, the challenges of the morning didn't carry over to the actual task of shaving my legs. Had I been thinking more clearly, I would have heeded the warning signs, and not put sharp blades so close to my legs and more valuable body parts.

The moral of the story? Avoid reading the blogs of people who ride the same bike as you. I'm sure that, somehow, this is all NancyToby's fault.

From Flounder to Flipper

There is an interesting drama that unfolds as people pursue their dreams of becoming an Ironman. We all have different reasons for chasing this rabbit, and we all have different fears and challenges as we get closer to race day. As I've become more familiar with those around the triblog community (TBC), one concern continues to crop up.

The swim.

From my perspective, this is odd. The run is a full marathon, tacked on at the end of a VERY long day. A marathon starting at 7 a.m. is tough, and I can only begin to imagine a marathon after the swim and bike. And the bike is a good bit longer than a century. Having completed a century ride many moons back, that is no easy feat. It also comes after a good bit of exercise.

The swim. It's "only" (used in the loosest of terms) 2.4 miles, and is the first task of the day. It comes right after a hopefully good night's sleep, a good pre-race breakfast, and before any other activity. And as many an expert will point out, it is the least physically demanding of the three disciplines. Finally, it occurs in water, which helps prevent overheating.

Oh, wait, there it is. It. Takes. Place. In. Water. That's the big hitch.

Despite all the mental gymnastics to detail why the swim should be the least of our concerns, the swim in any race is the most daunting task, for me. A quick review of many triblogs will confirm that many of us are gravely concerned about the swim portion of our events.

When training for a marathon, 20 miles is the absolute longest training run I complete. I have quickly ratcheted my bike distance up to 70 miles, and have few concerns about completing a century, despite not having done so in ages. And a century is likely the furthest I would ever consider biking in preparation for an Ironman race. Why, then, am I so insistent upon putting in huge yardage in the pool? My next race has a 3/4 mile swim. I have been training with 1, 1.2, and 1.5 mile swims. And I saw nothing odd with Iron Wil completing a 4000 yard swim to train for Ironman Wisconsin.

When this crazy journey started, I felt like a flounder in the water. A co-worker aptly defined it as "swimming like a barge." After several months, I am less awkward and far less concerned with my ability. Still, my pace averages right around 2:30/100 yards, and I have a lot of work to do on breathing. The ultimate goal? To be more like Flipper than a flounder. At some point, I want swimming to be like biking and running. "You want to go how far? I'm in." Instead of, "Are you off your rocker. Drowning isn't on the agenda for the weekend."

Swimming is unnatural for people. We don't have gills, flippers, or a strong desire to chase that worm hanging from that shiny metal object. We like air, solid surfaces, and spaghetti hanging from that shiny metal object. Ironman demands that we manage to overcome our fears, learn to trust in ourselves, and complete a task that most consider insane.

All we have to do is meet Ironman's demands.

Jumbled Mass of Ideas

Some days, posting is easy. A really exciting topic presents itself, a funny thing happened on the way to the pool/running trail/bike route, or some motivational tidbit begs to be shared. And on some days, those thoughts coalesce into an entry that others find truly exceptional.

And then, there are days like today. The ideas are there. What's missing is the words needed to share the ideas. It's a "type three words, delete four others" kind of thing.

Perhaps the best way to start is a quick training recap. Monday was a 2500 yard swim that went quite well. I really need to talk with the author of my training plan and discuss scheduling a 2500 yard swim during the week. That's at the outer limit of my abilities, since I really need to be out of the pool by 6 a.m. to get to work on time. By the time I get into the pool, I usually have about 45-50 minutes to swim. Averaging about 2:30/100yds makes a 2500 swim an hour long affair. Tough to accomplish in 50 minutes. It might just be motivation to swim faster. (By way of explanation, I am the author of my training program)

Today was another bit of brilliant planning. A 10 mile run, with an alarm clock set for 4:30 a.m. This left me in the same sort of situation. Assuming 9 minute miles, getting dressed, equipped, out the door, and finishing a 10 mile run before 6 a.m. would prove difficult. So, a quick bit of math got me to the conclusion that I really needed to run 8 minute miles. Shaving a minute a mile off a mid-week sort of long run is a bit of a stretch, so I split the difference, running 8m 30s miles. That got me home a bit late, but not too late.

The run was a good opportunity to think, as my MP3 player picked this morning as a good time to have a dead battery. I always find it amazing what kind of thoughts wander through my brain during mid to long runs alone. Here's a bit of what goes on inside my head:

- The Olympic tri is only three weeks away, and it's time to verify arrangements for Veeg while she's in town. Note to self-call to make sure friend is still okay with Veeg staying there.

- Does Veeg say her name with a hard G (Veeguh), with a Gee sound, (VeeGee), or with a J sound (Veedge)?

- How does Ironman performance compare to Olympic distance performance? How much faster in each discipline will Sarah Reinertsen be, and do I stand a chance of keeping up with her?

- What are the odds that on a single early morning run I would see three separate incidents involving the police, including a CSU truck?

- If the accomodations pre-arranged for Veeg fall through, will it bother her to stay in a house with two small children. She could stay in the basement, away from the noise. Wait, she has kids, so they likely wouldn't bother her, anyway. But she could still stay in the basement, furthest from any noise.

- I should blog about all the random thoughts I have when not wearing my MP3 player. What all have I thought about?

- Do MP3 players inhibit thought?

Of course, I left out the constant math that is going on in the midst of these thoughts. There is pretty much a constant barrage of calculations that occur while I run. They are attempts at determining various things such as average pace, pace needed to achieve a given overall average, pace needed to get home when I need to get home, etc. While many people warn against wearing MP3 players while running, I save my warnings for this. My MP3 player has rarely caused any problems. On the other hand, if I'm in the midst of doing some grand and complex calculation in my head, it's entirely possible for me to miss turns, run into things on the sidewalk, and completely ignore everything going on around me.

Tomorrow, it's back to the pool. Perhaps a good soaking will pry loose some golden nugget of blog wisdom. If you made it this far, thanks for sticking with me. Sometimes, it's scary being in my head.

MOSAMVBATT

For those who don't happen to belong to a Boy's (or Girl's) Brigade unit, the title probably elicits responses like, "You're what hurts?" Since it is quite likely that covers everybody reading this, MOSAMVBATT is the initials for a way of life.

It means: My own self at my very best, all the time.

As a leader at the Boy's Brigade, this is a value I attempt to instill in the 8th grade groups in my charge each year. A simple statement that speaks volumes. It is something from which we can all benefit.

First, it deals with the one person over whom we have true control. Ourselves. Try as we might, we can only attempt to influence others. Teachers try to help students be great students. But only the student can make themselves excel. Coaches offer suggestions for all of us to be better triathletes. But only we can make ourselves train as needed. Our destinies are our own.

Second, it deals with MY VERY best. Not second best. Not "best until it gets too difficult." Very best. That's MY very best, by the way. So if my best is 3m/100yd in the pool, 14 mph on the bike, and 12 minute miles running, that's good enough. We set ourselves up for failure if we judge ourselves based upon someone else's best. MY best is all anyone (myself included) can ask of me.

Finally, the words "all the time." If you're doing your best some of the time, what about the rest of the time? Are you doing "sort of okay," or "50%,' or "sort of half-assed?" Anything less than all the time leaves lots of time for performing less than 100%.

MOSAMVBATT is the driving force behind my being a marathoner. It is what forced me to become a triathlete, after twelve 8th graders said, "You should do a triathlon." Doing any less would set a poor example for those kids I continually challenge.

One final thought to keep in mind is that MOSAMVBATT is a high bar. While short of perfection, it is the closest thing we can hope to achieve on earth. But we have our whole lives to pursue it. When you have that training session or race that goes "badly," just ask yourself the question. Did I perform at my very best all the time. If you can answer that with an honest, "Yes," then cut yourself some slack. If the honest answer is, "No," then figure out where you need to improve so you can answer "Yes," next time.

Tri-Daddy Humor

Tri-Daddy did some posts that warrant a visit. Stop by for some humorous training pictures.

As the father of a 2 1/2 year old boy and 8 month old girl, I can totally relate.

Well Deserved Rest

Sometimes, training just goes differently than planned. Stormy weather forces distances to be shortened, or scrapped altogether. Heat and humidity make it impossible (okay, really unpleasant in a "not going to happen" sort of way) to complete the planned training. Or family committments call upon the flexibility for which triathletes are known.

And sometimes, everything goes perfectly, all the training is completed, and Sunday night finds us looking forward to Monday, and a much needed day of rest. But it's a good tired. It's the tired of someone who knows they busted their butts over two or three days of tough training.

That is the kind of weekend I am just wrapping up. Knowing the level of training I had scheduled, Friday was pasta dinner at a wonderful local restaurant known for their generous portions. Toddler Pol loved it because we park in the parking garage (first floor, Trimama) and walk (run) the several blocks to the restaurant. There were two minor casualties on the trip. Toddler Pol tripped over his own feet and scraped his elbow. His desire to be held by daddy while NOT having the blood cleaned by mom resulted in several blood stains on my shirt (GB half marathon).

Saturday was scheduled for a long bike. Seventy miles, with a target pace somewhere around 17 mph. Starting out just after 5 a.m. helped me avoid the heat of the day, and there was little to no wind. It was a beautiful day, and I complete the trip in 3hrs 45m, for an average pace of 18.7 mph. Since I still felt strong at the end, it was a successful training ride.

My LSD run was scheduled for Sunday, a shorter 12 miles on this step back week. Done later in the day, the temps ranged from 77F (Weather Channel) to 85F (banks). I'm unsure of where The Weather Channel was getting their information, but most people weren't in air conditioning while outside. I think the banks were closer to accurate. Still, there was a slight breeze, and the humidity was lower, so it wasn't too bad. That trip took 1hr 49m for an average pace of 8:59 per mile. I'll take that for a long run, though I'm not yet comfortable about maintaining that pace for the full 26.2 miles. That is what is required to run a four hour marathon (with a bit of buffer).

Finally, some very important news. Veeg crushed her competition in the friendly throwdown at the Racine Triathlon, this weekend. She had another great experience completing the sprint distance race in 1:41:27. Most importantly, she improved both her bike and run portions. Stop by and congratulate her on the awesome performance.

Bolder also set a PR when he completed his first Olympic distance triathlon. In addition to the strong showing, he picked up some awesome giveaways at the expo. Stop by and congratulate him, and check out the cool swag they give away in the triathlon capital.

Champions

For all who dream of becoming champions in their own races, this weekend, the new video.

I oopsed by way into this video, and found it so hilarious it just had to be posted.

Have a great weekend, whether racing, training, or resting.

Staying In Bed

As many are aware, I'm a big fan of taking the odd training day off, if the rest is needed. Injuries, fatigue, and family obligations are a few of the various items that might warrant missing a session. Wednesday was one of those days, for me. After a late night, Tuesday, I knew that a 4:30 wakeup wasn't in the cards.

That change provided the opportunity to mix things up a bit by switching Thursday's swim into a bike and Friday's bike into a run. A swim/bike brick on Saturday and a bike/run brick on Sunday would round out the week.

Sometimes, Mother Nature has other plans. Today, it was a thunderstorm that lasted most of the night. By 4:15, the rain had stopped, but the thunder and lightning continued with gusto. Apparently, swimming was more important than biking. That's okay, unshift plans, and go back to Plan A.

At the pool, all the makings of a good swim were there. Only a few people in the lanes, and the water, for once, was cool (this YMCA seems to favor warmer water in the pool). I hadn't planned on swimming, so I decided to just do a long swim with the 45 minutes left before I had to head to work. Somewhere around 500 yards, my right ear plug started to leak. And for anyone with perforated ear-drums, that is a hassle.

Side Bar: Iron Pol was born with a cleft palate, and dealt with numerous ear infections as a youth and young adult. The repeated use of tubes to clear infections resulted in perforated ear drums, and the tendency for the ear drums to rupture. As a result, any water in the outer ear has a direct path to the inner ear. So, plugs are worn to keep the water out.

I hopped out of the pool to adjust the ear plugs, which resolved any questions I had about the swim. In other words, the leak became a "why am I even wearing these things" rush of water into the ear. At that point, I gave up and figured I may as well get an early start to the work day.

Apparently, I should have stayed in bed.

Who Are You Racing?

It has been said a time or three (thousand) that triathletes are highly competetive. And they tend to be overachievers, as well. Does anyone know what would make people say things like that?

Some would say that competition isn't a good thing. All around the country, there are moves to eliminate any hint of competition from our children because it might damage their self-image if they "lose." So attempts are made at evaluating without ranking. It makes you wonder why so many people get involved in activities such as marathons and triathlons, knowing full well they have no hope of "winning." Are we all somehow damaging our self images by placing anywhere from last to "far from first."

Perhaps, self-image is about much more than "winning" in the "first place" sense. Or, perhaps, we are racing someone besides the other people in the event.

Most likely, it is a little bit of both, for many of us. After all, how many non-athletes became runners (or triathletes) and improved their health in the process. Is their self-image worse because they are mid-pack runners? Tell John "The Penguin" Bingham that he is somehow less of a person because he doesn't "win." He'd probably tell you where to waddle your little behind. Or tell Sarah Reinertson her self-image is worse off after competing in an Ironman triathlon. If you're lucky, she'll kick you with her right leg. If she really takes offense, she'll clobber you with her left leg. Perhaps you'd care to tell Dick and Rick Hoyt that racing is pointless, since Dick will never "win" a race pushing Rick.

I think in all of these cases, and many, many more, the people racing CAN'T lose. They win every time the step up to the starting line. They win as they lose excess weight as a result of their training. They win as they overcome various addictions (gaining one or two quite healthier addictions). They win as they accomplish goals most consider unattainable.

After all, in the end we are really racing ourselves. We challenge ourselves to accomplish a given set of tasks. As one goal is met, we set other, more difficult challenges. First, we want to finish. And we bask in the glory of success. Then, we realize glory is short lived, because we could have done better. We could certainly set a PR if we race, again, right? Or could we have gone longer? There's always a longer race in available somewhere in the near future.

As highly competitive, overachieving triathletes, we need to keep a few things in focus. First, we are always racing. There is always some goal to be accomplished, a podium to be reached. Second, and more importantly, the only way to lose is to fail to try. Once the decision is made to "go for it," the first victory is won. After that, we win every time we achieve another goal.

Go. Race. And remember, you're all winners.

IronRoMan

Congratulations to Roman Mica - Two Time Ironman

Roman Mica completed his second Ironman distance triathlon in Klagenfurt, Austria. He finished with the following times:

Swim - 1h 10m 24s (I consider that blazing fast)

Bike - 6h 48m 28s (while slower than TDF pace, this is also fast for us mortals)

Run - 5:34:29 (a pace many marathoners would be proud of, without the swim and bike beforehand)

His total time, with transitions, was 13:45:49, a very admirable time, and quite a showing over his first attempt. If you are interested in the stories about that race, please click the banner on the right, and you can purchase his book "My Training Starts Tomorrow." I bought and read the book, and do recommend it. It has the same humor he shows on his blog, and you can read it in bed without annoying the spouse.

Congratulations, Roman, on an excellent showing. As Bolder would say, Roman truly represented on the course, today.

Flying Pelotons

Thanks to the Tour de France, many non-cyclists are familiar with pelotons. While they might prefer to avoid biking in the midst of 100 other cyclists, they marvel at the ease with which Tour riders navigate the course together. And boy do those pelotons fly. But this post isn't about that.

It's about the marvel of the flying pelotons through which cyclists in this area must ride during a good portion of the summer. It's all thanks to a comparatively small lake called Winnebago. Now, for those born in the Fox Valley of Wisconsin (Neenah, Menasha, Appleton, through Oshkosh, down to Fon du Lac), Lake Winnebago is fairly sizable. Going around the lake is a good way to accomplish a century ride. But compared with the Great Lakes, Winnebago is more of a puddle, a mere swelling of the Fox River.

Winnebago is, however, very effective as a breeding and proving ground for lake flies. If you've never had the privelege of being around a body of water infested with the red worms that develop into lake flies, consider yourself lucky. Any cyclist venturing too near the lake might do well to take along a snorkel. An open mouth courts disaster if you happen to pass through a flying peloton.

This morning was a beautiful time for a ride. It was about 65F, with no real wind, and just a bit too much humidity. Apparently, this is also perfect conditions for the lake flies. It's warm enough for them to be out. The lack of wind allows them to frolic around the roadways, just waiting for passing cyclists. And the humidity we dislike is like a well deserved sauna for the short lived flies.

It was into this minefield of bugs that I headed. Oh, it wasn't on purpose, mind you. My misguided mind failed to consider their presence. Well, at least until about the fifth mile of my ride. That was when I hit the road that runs fairly close to the lake. It was impossible to ignore them, at that point. Like I said, just breathing while cycling through lake fly territory is an open invitation to a sudden choking fit while passing through a swarm. It was suddenly like I was swimming (with the breathing pattern in reverse). Deep breath in through the nose, exhale quickly through the mouth, hopefully keeping all flying miscreants out of the oral or nasal cavities.

The signs of poor breathing technique are unmistakable. The sudden hacking and coughing as the kamikaze bug hits its target. The victim attempting to get said attacker out of their mouth, generally by spitting anything and everything out of their mouth (hopefully, they are not in a true peloton of bikers). And the worst case scenario, a direct hit on the windpipe.

That can lead to a truly adventurous scene as the biker is thrown into spasms designed to dislodge a bug from the windpipe. Breathing, while still possible, becomes undesirable. It's better to turn blue, fall over, and continue trying to get the bug out then to breathe a lake fly.

This is what I drove into, this morning. And one thought kept popping into my head. Michael Jackson wouldn't have this problem. His little masks (you know, the ones we all think are so silly) would work wonders against marauding lake flies. He would be able to breeze through the assault while other cyclists are diving for cover.

And that is why I was laughing for the last 10 miles of my ride. Images of Michael Jackson leading a stage of the Tour de France, not because of any biking skill, just because of that silly mask. And you know what, it's just as hard to bike while laughing your head off as it is to bike through pelotons of flying bugs.

Racing Inspiration

It appears we will be racing with the stars at the Oshkosh Area Triathlon on August 13. In this case, it will be a shining star of inspiration for fledgling triathletes. And as a member of the Fox Cities Triathlon Club, opportunities for rubbing elbows will be plenty.

I just learned that Sarah Reinertsen will be in town for the race. For those unfamiliar with Sarah, she is the first above the knee amputee to become an Ironman. And she did it amazing fashion, completing the race at Kona. In addition to her website, she has a blog you can visit.

In addition to running the race, Sarah will be spending time with local triathletes. We have the opportunity to do a training run with her on Friday. On Saturday, she will be the featured speaker at the pre-race pasta dinner. On Sunday, she will see how badly she can kick my butt, with either leg.

One of the cooler factors of triathlons, mentioned frequently by others, is the ability to spend time with some of the most elite and most famous participants in the sport. And while there may be others with more experience, spending time with a young lady who has so much heart and dedication is bound to have a hugely positive impact on my triathlon efforts.

Early Start

The goal of the morning was to get a 10 mile run in prior to work. Allowing for various conditions slowing me down, I set the alarm for 4:20 a.m. That would give me 10 minutes to get dressed, stretched, and out the door, and an hour and a half for the run.

And don't go fretting about the 4:20 wake-up, that's only 10 minutes earlier than normal. No, if there's any fretting going on, it should be about Baby Pol choosing today as the day she decides NOT to sleep through the night. She announced her desire for food at 3:15 a.m. And she announced it with passion. Somehow, Mrs. Pol was too out of it to note that I was not, in fact, feeding her, and promptly went back to bed, leaving me holding the bag (well, baby). I think that has something to do with the fact that she was still awake at 12:30 a.m. when I made a short trip from the bedroom.

So, here it was pushing 3:30, and I'm feeding Baby Pol. There were two distinctly good things about her, this morning. First, she ate well with little fussing and fighting. Second, she went back to sleep immediately after she was finished with her bottle. The distinctly bad part was that she finished and was back asleep about 4:05.

Now, I like sleep as much as the next person, and if I'm actually in bed and wake up 3 minutes before my alarm, I'll go back to sleep. But when I'm fully awake from caring for an apparently starving 7 month old, it's pointless getting back into bed for 15 minutes. So, my 10 minute mad dash to dress, stretch, and get out the door turned into a more leisurely 25 minutes to do the same and still leave a bit earlier.

Somehow, my mind doesn't appreciate the benefits of an early start, when the "late" start is still in the dark of the morning.

The excitement continued upon my return (1h26m for 10.1 miles, 8:35 pace). Toddler Pol charged out of his bedroom, excited to show me something vitally important. He had to show me how he "falls" out of his bed, now. It seems he is still a bit miffed about my removing the side rail from his bed (which is largely due to the fact that he considers it a "ladder" to be climbed over). He was determined to prove to me that he is now at great risk of falling (6 inches) to his death, or at least severe injury. It was quite dramatic. And enough to wake up Mrs. and Baby Pol. At least I wasn't the only one getting hauled out of bed early.

Ahhh, the life in the Pol household.

Note the change of songs. The trivia question surrounding this song... What is its claim to fame?

Hot and Cold

After a totally acceptable finish to the World Cup (sorry for those rooting for France), it was time for a good training run. The first order of business on any day where heat might be a factor is to check the thermometer. "Hmmm, that's an awful lot of red I see. Red near the three digit mark is bad. 97F. That's not so good." Long training runs that start late in the afternoon always seem to have the potential to suck.

Having just read a good article on the dangers of hot weather running, and precautions we should take, I started getting ready. The lightest technical gear available was donned. And the normal 20 oz water bottle was replaced with a slightly bigger bottle of Gatorade. As an added safety measure, some cash and the cell phone would make this trip. Sunscreen, sunglasses, hat, MP3 player, and it's out the door.

Toddler Pol was outside, playing T-Ball, and promptly decided he wanted to go train with daddy. Explaining that this was a long run, likely to take a couple hours did little to sway him. Offering to play T-Ball with him upon my return was insufficient as a bribe. He wanted to go running. So, change of plans.

The 12.1 mile loop would have to wait. Out came the jogging stroller and off went the MP3 player. The one blessing is that these little delays had taken the 15 minutes Mother Nature needed to do a 180 degree shift in weather. The temperature dropped nearly 20 degrees and it looked like rain. Once Toddler Pol was strapped into the stroller, we headed out on the 3.3 mile loop. Much as it was screwing with my plans, it's a blast running with my son. He likes to "race," which he always seems to win. He likes to "share" sports drink with me (which means he drinks my Gatorade). And he likes to ask questions like, "Where's our house?" And, "Why are you sweating, Daddy?"

Just over 25 minutes later, we were back at the house. Mrs. Pol was there to take Toddler Pol and replenish my bottle. After putting the MP3 player on, it was back onto the road. The next mile was a debate over "Left at the light" or "Straight at the light." There was 2.2 miles riding on the decision. Left, and the extra 2.2 miles, won out.

That choice put me in the driver's seat for a total of 15.4 miles of running. Had the temperature stayed above 90F, there's no way I would have taken that route. Cooler weather makes for bolder moves.

It was a good run, with an average pace of 9:01 per mile. That, it seems, was just a bit too fast. Around the 13 mile point, my legs were ready to pull some sort of odd yoga maneuver and challenge my head to three rounds of Ultimate Fighting. Apparently, I spent a bit too much time anaerobic and the lactic acid was starting to build up. If I had gone straight, the run would have been over just BEFORE the 13 mile point, and my legs wouldn't have been dealing with that issue. They knew who to blame.

It was, however, a great run in terms of getting ready for the Fox Cities Marathon. Juggling the training for an Olympic distance triathlon that is four weeks prior to a full marathon is tricky. I suspect I will pay a price in September. So, I'm trying to minimize that with some good long runs, now.

And now, it's off to bed. There's 2000 yards in the pool with my name all over them for the morning. And if I get there early enough, it just might be 2500. After all, the weather in the pool always seems to be relatively cool.

Tearing Up Danskin

It's late, and aspiring triathletes should be in bed. But the events of the day demand a quick post.

Veeg tore up Danskin, putting in a respectable swim, an awesome bike, and a great run. She has the short version posted, and you can check back for the more detailed report.

Awesome job to Veeg. Stop by and congratulate her. And then get ready for her to stomp all over poor Iron Pol when we race Oshkosh.

*Note - Just to remove some of the confusion, Veeg (not myself) ran the Danskin race. While I have a great many triathlon toys, I'm not really equipped for a Danskin event. Or perhaps Bolder is just being playful and complimenting my shaving skills?

41

Forty-one. That's the long route I laid out this past week. It's also the longest ride I've completed in the past two decades. In fact, it's 14 miles longer than my next longest ride (in recent history).

So, there was some amount of pain involved when I hit the 41 mile mark, this morning, knowing there was another 17 miles until the end of my ride. For the record, most of that pain was in my butt. And we're talking big "monkey butt," as Roman Mica likes to call it. And the way my hinder felt after the ride, Baboon Butt might be more appropriate.

The training goal for the day was 58 miles, as determined by the distance from home to my office and back. It might be sick to bike to work on a vacation day, but the route is convenient, and it gave me the opportunity to show of The Pol-R Express to a few co-workers. At the beginning of the ride, 58 didn't seem like too big a number.

The ride out was great. There was absolutely no wind, and the trip is just a bit more downhill than up. My average pace for the first 29 miles was exactly 20 mph. That isn't up to Tour de France standards, but I was happy with it.

The ride back was also pretty nice. Well, except for the more uphill than down part. And the headwind that had developed. Luckily, it was only a slight breeze. The challenging part was when I hit the 41 mile point, and started considering the 17 miles that remained.

The number of times I have biked over 50 miles can easily be counted on two hands. And the second hand will still have plenty of fingers left over for other tasks. I did a century when I was a teenager. I biked to and from our church's tree farm (which may actually be just under 50 miles, I don't remember). And I lost my mind and wound up biking nearly 80 miles on my own, with no water bottle, on my Huffy Strider, wearing a football half-shirt. That one left some interesting sunburns.

So, here it is, 20 years later, and I'm doing another long ride. I'm better prepared, with water bottles, energy bars and gels, a helmet, and a shirt that covers ALL of my back. I have spare tires, CO2 and pump, and a cell phone, if all else fails. Even so, the idea of having another 17 miles to go was mind numbing. And yes, Roman, there is a numb monkey butt, too.

But I long ago learned to stuff gremlins where they belong. In this instance, I rolled them under the wheels of The Pol-R Express. And I just kept spinning, just kept spinning... Even if spinning sometimes required me to shift into some way low gears.

And I made it home with no big issues. Tired legs and one major sore butt, yes. But I'm sure I could have gone another bunch of miles if needed. The overall average pace was 18.7 mph. That says volumes for how challenging I found the return trip.

But challenge is what this is all about. If it were truly easy, it's quite likely that I wouldn't be doing it. That it is extremely difficult, often appearing nearly impossible is what draws people to triathlon. If we have to deal with a bit of monkey butt along the way, so be it.

The Power of Anxiety

Have you ever noticed how anxiety level tends to be inversely proportional to days left until race day? (That's a geek's way of saying we get anxious as race day approaches)

For many, anxiety seems to be the enemy. Little gremlins start popping up all over the place. We dwell on training mistakes and different ways in which we can "blow up" during the race. We can't seem to sleep. We want to go through our gear "one more time" to find that vital item that has been forgotten. Most significantly, we question our ability to live up to our own expectations, whether that is "finish" or "win" or "PR."

As a former mountain climber and rapeller, I view anxiety through a slightly different prism. Anxiety is that small inside voice, the one bordering on fear, that keeps me honest and keeps me safe. On the mountain, there was always that bit of fear that made you double check every rope and every knot. And there's a bit of anxiety when registering for a race. That anxiety makes sure I'm honest about my abilities and training schedule. Anxiety keeps things in perspective, so gremlins are kept at bay. It helps ensure all of my gear is ready to go, because it's been checked "one more time." And anxiety helps me remember that expectations are just that. Finish the race. Have fun. Achieve goals. In that order. Anxiety helps keep the horse in front of the cart.

And anxiety is a pre-race thing. No matter how many races I've completed, anxiety is there with me at the beginning of the next one. But anxiety seems unable to cross that line in the sand that marks the start of a race. When the gun goes off, there are other things to occupy my mind.

In a triathlon, there is no room for anxiety when I hit the water. The struggle for survival takes center stage. And those who have seen me in the open water know that struggle is real. But anxiety can't survive in a head that is focusing all attention on "stroke, stroke, stroke, stroke, breathe, stroke, stroke, stroke, stroke, breathe." (Yes, I'm a single side breather). The anxiety is replaced by a calm born of fear. Again, that fear keeps me safe. Because it forces me to focus on doing everything as properly as I can, and failing that, to find a comfortable and safe position in which to regain my composure and form.

Anxiety is with us every step of the way as we train for endurance races. It is with us right up to the starting line. But anxiety is like a couch potato. It isn't going the distance. In fact, it isn't crossing the start line.

There is one facing a bit of anxiety, this week. That is Veeg, as she approaches the Danskin Women's Triathlon in Wisconsin. She has done the training. She understands her strengths and her weaknesses. Stop by her site and lend your support as she prepares for this race. I know she'll do great, because she's getting ready to kick my butt in Oshkosh come August 13.

Fourth and Counting

So, what do the Fourth of July and triathlons have in common? Let me tell you. It's bricks. Independence Day (okay, let's be real here, it's more like Independence Month) is filled with people burning through the many bricks of fireworks in their possession. It's been going on around here for weeks. The slow crescendo of detonations that builds to the climax on July 4th. Then, as July continues, the occassional report identifies another individual who either located some long lost stash or has incredible willpower to have held on to a few items for later use.

The long weekend provides opportunity for triathletes to work through a few bricks of their own. Family plans called for a bit of adjustment to the training schedules, and I used those changes to get through a swim/bike brick on Saturday and a bike/run brick on Tuesday. Sunday, normally used for long runs, was a rest day so we could have family friends over for a cookout. And Monday was a long (1.2 mile) swim since the YMCA was closed Tuesday.

Both bricks went well. On Saturday, it was 1.2 miles swimming with a 41 mile bike. I put together a new bike route that works out to be a long, shallow triangle. As luck would have it, the wind was blowing across that triangle, so it was 36 miles of cross-wind. That was only topped by Tuesday, with the same cross wind, only the remaining 5 was into the wind, rather than a tailwind. The route includes a decent two mile climb that somehow never results in a good downhill. Oh well, nobody really needs to train for down. It's up that takes all the preparation.

Finishing this holiday weekend puts me less than six weeks away from the Olympic distance triathlon. There is still a lot of open water time needed. I am, however, hoping that the extended distances in the pool will help. Only time will tell. The bike and the run aren't too big a concern. I do hope to get one 50 mile bike/10 mile run brick completed prior to the race. I'm slowly building up the bike and run mileage while trying to gain confidence in the water.

And while I haven't had a definite committment, it appears that Veeg has held up her end of the challenge and signed up for the same Olympic distance triathlon that I am running. It will also be her first time racing that distance, and she is starting to cover the same swim distances. Stop by her site and share whatever helpful hints you have. It will be wonderful getting to meet another member of the blog force, and knowing more people helps boost morale and confidence.

Six weeks. It's a short time, and things are getting serious. Between work, family, and training, just about every spare moment I have is taken. So, forgive me if the posts are a bit sparse for a while. You'll know I'm there by the comments I do manage to post.

And, just for Veeg, here is Silent Lucidity by Queensryche.