"Jump The Barriers, and Haul Ass!"

I am not a 'cross rider, I am a triathlete. I don't pin my numbers to my jersey, I wear a race belt. I don't have a race warm up, I come straight out of the pool. I don't ride technical routes, I time trial. I don't know what I am doing here...

*these are not my photos, but a story is always better with pictures*

The later was my thought upon arrival at the Fort. I was totally out of my element, lost in a sea of very few friendly faces, and a very foreign terrain. I didn't even know what to pump my tires up to. What am I thinking? Scott told me, "don't worry, just jump the barriers and haul ass." Sound simple enough.

My intent for cyclocross is to have fun, the type of fun you get when you have no pressure or expectations. I am realistic, I ride a handful of off road rides a year and don't plan on devoting any extra time to it in the near future, all I can hope for in 'cross is to have fun and above all don't get hurt.

A huge group showed up for the race, easily 50 or more. The Mens A rolled out first, my group started after the last Mens A completed the first lap. I didn't want to cause any trouble for the legit 'cross racers so I started at the back. The first part of the course was fairly wide open and flat, I thought, "this isn't bad at all, I can hang with this."

Then we hit the organ jarring section cutting across a field, I always wanted to know what a milk shake feels like. We then went through the technical stuff, dismounts, run ups, and twisting sections. I quickly realized that section of the course would not be my strength. However, I could hold my own on the drawn out straights and pavements sections, I think that would be the "haul ass" sections. The drafting, something that is illegal in my sport, was pretty fun. I would yo-yo through the ranks on each lap, move up past people on the straights, and give all the places back through the technical stuff.

About 20 minutes into the race things had settled down, I was starting to actually relax through the technical stuff. I found my self off the back of a group of about 6 riders. Now I know my M.O. was to have fun, but I reasoned myself into thinking I would not be having fun unless I tried to catch all six riders before the end of race. The next two laps I caught and passed three of the other riders, I found myself making up more ground on the straights than what I was losing in the technical stuff. I stuck to the wheel of the next rider through tech section and gassed it during the flats, two to go.

Sure this hurt, but it was that fun kind of hurt, a fun hurt that promised to stop in a few minutes, and most important, I could ride like a demon and wouldn't have to run after...yes. With two laps to go I passed the next rider, it felt good as this dude was kitted with a sweet skin suit. One lap to go. After riding through rough row, past the dismounts, I was glued on the guy's wheel through the flats and the final dismount. I knew I would get him, I had held back the whole race and he seemed to be combusting. With 300 yards to go I used the Ricky Bobby slingshot move to get by. I hit the line with no challenge.

I consider catching the 6 guys a victory, even though I was beaten by 3 times that many. I managed to almost hold the lead lap, only one Mens A lapped me on his final lap. Overall, it was fun race. A time that I was able to "just ride" with no pressure or expectations. It was a chance to try something new. I met my goals of having fun and not getting mangled in a crash. Above all it was a great day of jumpin' barriers and haulin' ass.

In the words of Peter Reid, "I Did It!"

I faced my feelings of fear and doubt, coming out a better man for it...

In the words of one of my favorite athletes, Peter Reid, "I did it!" What I did was put myself in a situation in which I was not comfortable or experienced in. A situation in which I went in with little knowledge, very few familiar faces, and I put my it on the line. I extended myself taking something I was not comfortable with and facing it head on. This situation reminded me very much of starting at a new school. You don't know many people, and everything seems somewhat foreign and awkward. Whether it is a new school, job, or city we have all had that feeling... Race update and phots (hopefully) shortly.

All Too Often We Over Look The Little Things...

~Triathlon 2008 ~ What an Adventure!

"...I have felt the power here..."


That's it for triathlons in 2008, what a season. 12 races with 8 top 5 finishes!


This summer I packed in a lifetime's worth of traveling, racing, seeing triathlon friends, training, and suffering. Looking back it was an amzing season. I did it the way I wanted, I truely lived a dream.

 
I had so many new experiences like moving to a new city, new races, new friends and most importantly a new enviroment that brought new personal tests and built personal strength.

It's hard to not relive the highs, and occasionally the lows, of what I did the past year. The winter was cross-country skiing, early morining winter runs, and frigid bike rides. The enjoyment and fitness assessments of the local running races, the crazy spandex clad Frost 5k with near zero temperatures. The commitment to running, recovery, and goal achievement seem a distant, far off, adventure of a past life.

The spring was a whirl wind of school, going to alaska do taxes (exercising on the stair machine and treadmills in the small villages was pretty unique), racing my first Elite Heat at Grizzly, a moment I thought, 5 years ago, would never materialize.

Summer was full of the hard to reach moments that I dream about all winter and spring while putting in the training time; leading the races in Helena, Kalispell, West Yellowstone, and Seeley makes every sacrifice of now and the future worth it.

Winning was the most amazing delayed satisfaction reward I have ever achieved, a very rare lifetime moment of fleeting pain, elation and satisfaction. Racing, almost every weekend, my way into shape was a pretty unique approach. Working 8-5 Monday to Friday with every second focused on what my weekend races held for me. Never once waivoring in the face of an office full of doubters and disbelievers.

Oh course how could I reflect on my season with touching on the most impactful races, the meltdowns: Grizzly, Spokane, and Grand Columbian. While at the time I hated the experience, I now appreciate the fact that I was able to experience a level of suffering, mentally and physical, that most normal people will never subject themselves to.

Not to be left out, the wonderful people. My family reunions at the races, my loving parents that believe in me, Mack and the traveling humor fests, my sister and brother (in law) sharing the races and pictures, Evan and the Eck family letting me travel with them, traveling with L'Heureux and Halpin, being treated like a king by Loran and Ryan in Spokane, Dave Norman and his incredible compassion at Grand Columbian, and many more along the way. Memories I will never forget revolve around all these people, you're all amazing!

Finally, I reflect on my commitment, courage, knowledge, and humblings. Emotions that have brought me to another level of living. A level above the daily grind of most lives of work, taxes, and tv. This season held incredible fulfilliment in the time I spent catching, previously fleeting, goals. It was a season of having the courage to take the path that is different, in the hopes of finding whatever it is I am looking for. Most importantly of all, a season of doing the things that I love to do: swim, bike, and run.

I look forward to the new experiences that await me the rest of this year, and finding my true strength awaiting within.

I am Smart Enough To Learn From My Mistakes...

Grand Columbian is an extremely tough race. I have no excuse for what happened. I need to have the courage to ask myslelf the question, "why?" I am smart enough to learn from my mistakes...The past 2 days I have analyzed my race, looking for clues to solve my self destruction riddle. By no means are these excuses, simply explanations for what may have went wrong. What happened is in the past, I would like to not repeat it.

My entire goal is to take a look at my race day approach and learn from it. I know my fitness is capable of much faster racing, I hit splits in training consistently. I guess that's why the say this is a hard sport.

Here are my potential points to draw experience from:

In my half IMs, this year, I have come off the bike extremely dehydrated. Thinking about Saturday I only drank 1.5 bottles of liquid during the bike, about 30 oz would be my estimate. That isn't even close to what I need.

After the race I notice I had at least half my energy bottle left, that would put me at about 350 calories for the bike segment. Calculating this out astounds me, what the heck am I thinking. I know how many calories, and water for that matter, I need. This is no where close, why didn't I consume all my calories?

Other than that, my only other way thinking would be that this type of course just doesn't suit my abilities...yet. There were people who I absolutely destroy on shorter courses, and less hilly ones, that averaged the same speed on the bike as me. Usually the bike is my strength. Someone once told me to "train your weakness and race your strength." I need to objectively look at my training and make adjustments if I hope to ever crack this course.

Is it possible this problem is mental, have I built up this race so high that it is mentally too high to climb? Certainly mentally this race is demanding, but am I letting the immense pressure of 13.1 miles on tired legs build up too much mid run? Is my past experience acting as a mental block, subconciously limiting my belief in what I can do, and contributing to my run segment implosions here? The only one that can find the answers to these questions and others is me...I look forward to searching for them.

The fact that I self destructed no longer matters at this point, the most important thing to gain from this race is the experience to not repeat the mistakes I have made. Looking at my list I have an idea of what I need to do to correct them.

I am lucky enough to have the opportunity to experience all these unique emotions and situations, an opportunity to swim, bike, and run. Most of all the opportunity to move forward...

Triathlon Season 2008 Wrap Up

I will soon be posting a wrap up to my 2008 triathlon season...I found new horizons.

This Race Evades Me: Self destruct in 3...2...1

"The Bike Course is Brutal! The grade hits 14% in some places...now that's European."

"This Place is Amazing!"

A coward lies within us all... Some people play it safe, never taking risks, never extending limits, or letting it all hangout...those people rarely ever experience the inner struggle as a spirit battles that voice that says "you can't do it." Leading up to the trip I felt fit, confident, and ready to race. Two other racers and myself packed up the Subura on Friday and heading to Washington. Some random facts of our trip included: 10 peanut butter, honey, and banana sandwiches, 3 bikes totalling over 15 thousand dollars, 5 sets of wheels, 3 wetsuits, 3 aero helemts and a few thousand calories of energy products. Needless to say we were sufficiently supplied.

We rolled into Washington at 8 pm where we were greeted by our awaiting campsite, 50 mile per hour winds, and most importantly packet pickup and dinner. Our campsite was really nice, unfortunately it was very windy, threatening to blow our belongs into the next county. No matter, we settled in. L'Heureux chose the tent, Halpin and myself decided to just crash on the ground. I started out sleeping in the neighboring yard as it was flat and had nice grass...until the sprinklers came on. Throughout the night the wind gusted amazing loud...a bad sign of what may come the next day.


We all survived the night, woke up, prepared our bikes, and headed to the race start. Warming up I felt great, a few minutes of swimming and I headed to the start. The gun went off and I hit the jets, trying to get in with the main group. I found them, and wow what a draft. I could feel the negative draft pressure sucking me right along the top of the water. I was thrilled with my position, finally I have could swim a straight line and stay with the main group.

The swim was pretty uneventful, aside from the fact I drank more lake water than ever before. Oh well. with about 5 minutes left in the swim, our main pack broke into two groups, I in later. I figured I had saved so much energy and time by staying the the draft this long, I might as well not blow it by trying to bridge up to the next group. I moved to the front of my swim pack and led them into T1. I knew I was swimming fast, but the 25 minute swim told me that the swim was a tad too short. None-the-less I exited in a very respectable 15 place. I always have fast T1s so I knew I'd move up a few spots. I made extra effort to stay calm in T1, no sprinting, control my breathing, and relax. I exited T1 in 11th or 12th.

This course is a brutal bike course, I made effort to not hammer it and totally blow up. I took the first section of the course (by far the hardest with a killer hill) relatively relaxed, giving back places to those riding what looked to be a suicidal pace. The Almira Grade is incredible! The road corkscrews and twists, it's like if you tried to ride your bike up a playground spiral slide, it's insane. I made it up the climb and up on the mesa. A tremendous wind was blowing on top.

At about mile 12 Halpin went passed, he's good. The ride is tough because it has hill after hill, you have no chance to find a rhythm, and it's windy. Some portions you fly down the road at hyper-speed (I hit 50.1 mph) other portions you grind along at 10 mph with the energy gauge being drained. Needless to say when I made it back to the Dam I was ready to be off the bike.

I had a tremendous ride, averaging 20 mph, right on target to run well. I checked my watch, I was right on pace to smash my previous best on this course. Again, I took my time and stayed relaxed in transition. I started conservatively on the run. The first few miles came so easy: 7:49, 7:38, 7:35. I was staying within myself. At mile 4 I felt a cramp starting in my upper calf...oh no. I kept going, determined not to have a meltdown after having such a great bike and run.

It is at this time when my inner coward found my frequency, I could clearly hear. I knew I had to run through the pain in my legs if I wanted a chance to finish in the capacity I had trained to do. My head was filled with things like, "don't run anymore this hurts, what if your muscle rips, just walk a few minutes." It was the thought of my cramped muscle ripping that convinced me a walk break was needed at the mile 5 aid station. Walking once is always the breaking point, you give in just that once, falter enough to mentally let yourself walk, my race spirals from there. I walked the aid station.

Mentally I was dragging the heaviest pack of failure. I hated where I was, what I was doing, and most of all I hated myself for the character I was exhibiting at this point. I train too hard, make too many sacrifices to blow up like this in long course races. Maybe I am not ready for long course, maybe it's nutrition, maybe it's a million other excuses, the bottom line is I can't transition my short course success, however much that is, into a strong half ironman.

The race distance evades me. Dragging the inescapable trailer of shame through miles 5 and six I was again humbled to a walk with leg cramps and personal shame. I knew my race was done. After walking this time my muscled had cooled enough to let stiffness seize them. There would be no more running today. Thankfully, spectators on the course understood I didn't need cheers, I need to left alone. People somehow understood that I was in a place that I usually am not. A place of personal failure, not to be tormented by their false hopes that a cheering effort would do anything besides piss me off.

I lost close to 100 places from the T2 to the finish line. I saw numerous styles of "running" as people passed. The hardest part of the race was at mile 10. As I was walking past the mile 10 marker I felt a hand pressed firmly on my mid back, it was my friend Dave Norman. He was genuinely asking if I was okay. He slowed to a walk to make sure I was fine. The fact that Dave stops running to see what my deal was goes above and beyond. I somberly said, " I will be fine, go ahead Dave." He reached out his hand for an extended hand shake. Pretty good guy. I walked the rest of the way back to the finish.

At the finish shoot some real doozies actually told me I was "doing great and looking good." Seriously! Are you really that big of a moron? Does it really make sense for some fast-looking people to walk the finish shoot, coming in behind 100 other people and an hour slower than what they are capable? Is that a great day? L'Heureux, Halpin, and Norman were at the finish line. I gave Dave a hug and "you're a good guy, Dave."

I won't ever forget Norman stopping, something that kills me to think about because I don't think I would do the same thing in race. He's a real class act for sure. Our posse wasn't genuinely pleased with our respective performances so we kicked rocks about as fast as possible. Driving as fast as we could in an attempt to forget the race. I left with some funny moments, like Halpin telling me how funny it was to watch me walk the finish area and how pissed I looked. I also think it is quite funny that my bike split was 30 seconds faster than my run split. Now, I don't really care about the race, I am not a robot and am bound to have blowups every now and again. I am sure it won't be my last. The strength I draw from this is I know I am better than this, I know I am faster than this. Above all I had the worst race of my life, stilled finished and lived to fight another day.

"This is far from the end of my Grand Columbian Quest. I won't stop until I conquer this race..."

Believe In The Power Of One...

I looked up to Ev Tanner because he had the courage to do his own thing, to live with no fear, and to believe in the power of one.

Former UFC Middleweight Champion Evan Tanner.

One of my favorite athletes died this week. Evan Tanner aka the "wild man." He died alone in the California Desert...Tough way to go. Evan did it his way, never conformed to the rat race or what others did.

Always tough when reality proves heroes to be only human. Just goes to show, make the most of what you have, and waste no opportunity.