August 31: That's a Wrap

Click Here to Donate Today!

Two significant events this week: First, I made it through the final, toughest week of training. The theory goes that you can only utilize the training that you have done two weeks previously, so this last week was the final opportunity to really build fitness for the race, which is September 13. So despite a killer work week and kid obligations (or opportunities, as I've come to recognize them) I got in about six miles of swimming and 150 miles on the bike, including two bike rides under the masochistic eye of one of my business partners, Rich. Kind of embarrassing when you're not even the fastest cyclist in your own company. Rich managed to dislodge my heart from it's usual position and push it near my throat through a series of sprints, pursuits, and climbs on the roads around Whitefish. Oddly, I am grateful. Also had the company of a longtime friend and coach, Tony Schiller, who more than anything encouraged me to back off, absorb the training, and concentrate on having faith in my preparation. I haven't been able to run because of a nagging injury, so I have substituted with pool jogging, which looks ridiculous, but is doing the trick. Finally, two long swims in Whitefish Lake, which is starting to cool off. Those felt good, but they need to, as the swim leg of the race is by far my weakest.

Second, I got my (gulp!) Team USA uniforms this past week. Talk about a crap-yer-pants moment of pride and anxiety! When I was at USC in the mid-80's, our soccer coach took us to Costa Rica as part of a multi-school team that represented the US. I remember taking the field with USA on my chest, feeling a rush of patriotism, and then getting shellacked by the smallest, fasted players I had ever faced. I think I'm in for about the same treatment at the ITU World Championships in Australia next week, but I'm going to look like a super-hero doing it; the uniform is one of those sleek swim-skin suits Michael Phelps wore in the Olympics and world championships, modified for triathlon use, and emblazoned with my last name and "USA" in big block letters, and my sponsor logos. I can barely fit into it (they're supposed to be tight) and it makes me look like a cross between an American Gladiator and Auquaman. If the intention of putting on a $300 high-tech body suit is to inspire and intimidate, then I know it's working in at least one capacity...

So, the big training is over, and most of the race logistics are worked out. I head to LA for work on Thursday and Friday, then fly with the team from LA to Brisbane on Friday night. We'll lose Saturday to time change, and arrive Sunday.

Some of you have been frustrated trying to post comments to this blog, I think they are working on it, though I'm not sure I want to hear all your comments. I did not choose the pictures for the site, and I already know how silly we look in our little Lycra suits and space-age bikes. So save it. Tell me how you've been inspired to DONATE to Youth Homes (I only need five bucks. From 2000 of you. Or a twenty from 500 of you. Or one big grand gesture from a few of you...) I still haven't had anyone call me out on my potential performance. I would like to make some bets and be antagonized into laying my soul out on the race course. I do well with that. Remember, my goal (besides raising awareness for Youth Homes) is to break into the top half of my division (Men 45-49.) Last time I raced at Worlds in 2003, I was 62nd of 80. Nowhere to go but up, I guess.

Jeremy

To make a comment on this blog post, click the "comments" link below and choose "name/url" from the "Comment as" drop down menu. Add your name to the "name" field (no need to add a url if you do not have one)...then add and post your comments.

Frequently Asked Questions

Click Here to Donate Today!

I AM NOT AN ANIMAL

Several of you have asked how I can possibly do this (train, race, travel) at any level of proficiency, given my family, work, and personal responsibilities. Pretty simple, really. I don't sleep a whole lot, and I have a big enough ego that once I sign up for something (especially if it involves writing a check) I will figure out a way to get it done. If you eliminate TV, happy hour, meaningless conversations, and about 25% of your sleep hours, you can squeeze in an hour or so of training and no one will even know the difference. It helps if you have a slightly Type-A personality, but I really think if you're honest, ego (even if it's based in perfuming for the benefit of others) is a strong motivator. I've recently had some big lessons in humility, so it will be interesting to see what this event hold in store for me. Maybe I'll have a great race, maybe I'll have a flat tire and end up bawling at the side of the road with the kangaroos. Either way, it will be an experience, one that will teach me something, and raise some awareness for Youth Homes.

WHY ARE WE PAYING FOR YOU TO TAKE ANOTHER VACATION?

You're not. The first $3000 is matching my expenses, which I have already pre-paid for. If we don't get over $3000, I eat the expenses for the entire trip, and whatever money was raised goes directly to Youth Homes. My expenses have included airfare, accommodations, US team uniforms, physical therapy (hey, I'm old and broken,) bike shipping, race entries and insurance, and a case of Geritol. I was committed to doing this on my own; by engaging you all in the fundraising process, I can do a better job, and have a greater impact on a worthwhile organization. I can understand that some of you will look at what I'm doing and think that it must be nice to ride your bike and have someone else pay for it. All I can tell you is that I am putting my limited extra time into training as hard as I can, raising money as quickly and efficiently as possible, and shining a positive light on Youth Homes through a healthy, visible pursuit.

ARE YOU ANY GOOD AT THIS? ARE YOU GOING TO WIN?

Yes, and no. I placed 16th at USAT Nationals in Portland last fall, which earned me a spot on the US Team. They take 16 guys in my age group. So I go into the World Championships as the slowest guy on our squad. There will be 3000 people racing total, about 100 in my division. I will be extremely happy if I am somewhere in the middle of that group. I went to worlds in 2003 and 2005, and I placed 62nd and 59th. So I am not going to win anything. I want to beat some of the other "low qualifiers" from other nations. Beating a few Aussies or Canadians or Brits would be great. I'm definitely going after the Germans. And the French are, well, toast.

HOW ARE YOU REALLY GOING TO RAISE $10,000 IF I'M ONLY GIVING YOU FIVE BUCKS?

Just look who's in the White House. He got there by raising $5 a pop through Facebook. It's a question of how many contacts I, and you can make. I know this is a pain, that it's an email you'll probably want to delete every morning, but once you start reading about it, it will be easy, and even enjoyable. And I'm going to start sending pictures of cute kids, who are displaced, and who will tug at your heart. And you will melt, just like I have.

More on last minute training tomorrow. Send in your fivers, these kids need it, and I need a bottle of ibuprofen.

Jeremy

To make a comment on this blog post, click the "comments" link below and choose "name/url" from the "Comment as" drop down menu. Add your name to the "name" field (no need to add a url if you do not have one)...then add and post your comments.

"The Push Phase"

Click Here to Donate Today!

The ITU Triathlon World Championships are 20 days away. And I can't run, because my (aging) legs have decided they cannot handle any more speed. So this week, which was to be the Push Phase of my training, a big effort with at least 10,000 yards of swimming, 150 miles of cycling, and 30 miles of running, is not going to happen. I can do the swim, and most of the bike, but a torn soleus (it's below the knee, and above the foot) is going to reduce running to almost nothing. Which gives me a perfect excuse to NOT DO THAT WELL in Australia next month. Hey, I know I don't believe it, but it's nice to have excuses going in.

Today's workouts consisted of a really short technical swim under the watchful eye of Christoff ("Yooo haaahve to pooooool throough, snap ze back part of ze stroke...." seriously, what the hell is he saying?..) and a ride on the bike trainer on my deck at home as the sun went down, while on a conference call. I wonder if my clients were concerned about the heavy breathing on my end? At least they couldn't see what I was wearing. Lycra is generally not acceptable office attire in our firm.

I both dread and love the Push Phase. It means that the standard, everyday workout is something I have to be ready for, rested, fueled up, and mentally redy to tackle. There are no "going-through-the-motions" sessions now. Each time I hit the road or water, I have to remind myself that this workout counts three weeks from now; the previous three months were about getting my body to the point where it could handle these specific workouts. Bizarre concept, really, but ;you have to train to train. Knowing that I have almost no chance of doing any better than the upper half of my age-group in Australia is both a motivation, and a mind-screw; what difference does it make if I don't do this last 100 in the pool all-out? The problem is that I know. So I do it.

But I also had a big handful of frozen frosted circus-animal cookies after my big healthy athlete dinner tonight. I mean, I gotta have a few rewards. Like sleep. And beer. And red meat. These are the things I have been monastically been eliminating (not completely) from my routine. Mentally, it makes me think I'm a real athlete, even if for only a month or two. It certainly will make the post-race celebration memorable. I wonder if the Aussies can make a decent burger? Man, this is bad, I'm supposed to be thinking about my circuit-training session and 2000-yard swim tomorrow, and about asking all of you to kick in your five bucks for Youth Homes, and all I can think about is burgers and beers.

I'm going to eat an apple and go to sleep.

To make a comment on this blog post, click the "comments" link below and choose "name/url" from the "Comment as" drop down menu. Add your name to the "name" field (no need to add a url if you do not have one)...then add and post your comments.

August: Do or Die Month

Click Here to Donate Today!

It's a bit of a cliché, but sports ends up being such a metaphor for life. Lessons in perseverance, adversity, and humility. You set a goal, and you lay out a plan to achieve it, and along the way life throws everything at you. I seriously considered giving away my spot in the ITU Triathlon World Championships at the deadline for accepting the spot in January; major personal life issues, an economy that was starting to really hurt my supposedly recession-proof niche of architecture, and a general apathy towards my health and fitness had me not caring a whole lot about the selfish pursuit of another finisher's medal and a race t-shirt.

But somebody said something that came through loud and clear, despite my head being in the oven, kind of a Jack Handy line that convinced me that I could do it, I should do it, and I just needed a good reason to do it. I ended up talking to Ramey Kodadek, from Youth Homes, about her yearly effort to raise money for her organization through a few select races. I had helped with that effort at the Missoula Marathon the year before, and she was asking if I could do it again. I thought the idea of asking for money to "sponsor" one's efforts was a little, I don't know, needy. But I did it, it worked, and I was ready to do it again. Only this time, I had a better idea (and a better event) that could draw some attention to the organization that has placed 10,000 kids in permanent foster care over the past 30-years.

The sport of triathlon was hatched by a bunch of uncoordinated runners in San Diego in the mid-seventies who were tired of being injured due to over-training. they essentially invented "cross-training" by adding swimming and biking to their usual running routine. And boys being boys, they couldn't just leave such training alone, they had to make it a RACE. And so it started: The San Diego Track and Field Club held the first official "Tri-athalon" on Fiesta Island, in Mission Bay, in 1974. Four years later, a group of Navy Seals stationed in Honolulu, who were now familiar with the concept, argued over beers whether anyone could complete the Island's three major endurance events back-to-back-to-back (the Waikiki 2.4 mile Roughwater Swim, the 112-mile Round-the-Island Bike Race, and the 26.2-mile Honolulu Marathon.) They decided that anyone show could do it would earn the title "Ironman," and so the illogical ultra-distance version of the sport was born. 11 men and one woman lined up and completed that first race; 30 years later, there are 75 official Ironman and half-Ironman races around the world, and thousands of other sprint, Olympic-distance, and other triathlons every weekend. USA Triathon, the sport's governing body in the US, has 100,000 members, whose top level of competition culminates in the USAT National Championships, and then the ITU World Championships each year.

So with that history riding on my shoulders (my dad used to train the guys who started the sport, and competed in Hawaii three times in the early days,) I looked at the privilege of having qualified at Nationals and thought, "well, I better come up with a great excuse to do this." So Ramey and I came up with a plan to use my effort to raise money and draw attention to Youth Homes. Pay to Watch Jeremy Suffer became our working title. Like a school bus driver invited to compete in the Indy 500, my appearance at the World Championships should have a bit of an "Eddie the Eagle" quality to it; My friend Nathanael and I placed 15th and 16th at Nationals. They take the top 16 to Worlds. We got nowhere to go but up.

May, June, and July were a slow build-up of tricking an old body into some muscle-memory, some base training and a little racing to jar some recollection. As August came, I turned my focus to specific training sessions. A client-turned-friend, Tony Schiller (who raced professionally in the 80's and 90's, and qualified for the US Olympic Marathon Trials in 1984) laid out a modest training plan for me, sort of a checklist of key workouts that could fit into a 70-hour work week, with lots of rest and recovery efforts following the hard stuff. My old trainer, John Humble, agreed to sponsor me by training me in his gym two days a week; our sessions are a full-body circuit training session with increasing weights, long sets, and no rest, which are meant to mimic the effort of the sub-40 minute run that is the last leg of the race. Short races on the weekends, preceded or followed by long, slow bike and swim workouts and a steady, concerted effort to slowly eliminate bad foods and beer from my diet. Some parts are harder than others...

I was able to race the Whitefish Triathlon and the Bitterroot Classic Triathlon (both sprint races, about an hour each) over the last two weeks with identical results: age-group firsts, and sixth overall, against small fields made up mostly of kids half my age. In triathlon, they write your race number on your arms with a big marker, and put your age on your right calf, so you and your competition know who is passing who in which age-group. There is nothing better than pushing your 45-year old heap past a "23"-marked calf on the run. Although I could do without the "nice run...sir."

Elite athletes are routinely pushed to the point of injury; it's the threshold coaches need to know in order to assess physical potential. As weekend-warriors, we don't really have the opportunity (or inclination) to do that, but occasionally we put ourselves at risk by gathering for "group workouts." Such a workout at a track last Tuesday left my with a slightly-torn soleus, a muscle which stretches from the calf to the Achilles tendon. This came to my attention as I leapt off the bike in last weekend's race and took off on the run. The rest of my run was limited to a hitch-stepped hobble, very frustrating given how good I felt. But that's the humbling side of sports. Sometimes, when you're on your home field, in front of your friends, things don't go your way, and you have to take solace in the "just finishing" mentality, which 75% of the racers were running with anyway. It's the second time in three years that this race has humbled me (two years ago it was a flat tire.)

Now I have to back off the running for two weeks, try some physical therapy, and some pool-running. Yoga too, although my patience for things that seem to move slowly is pretty low. But this race, and this training, may not be about performance, and potential, and place. Maybe this time there's a bigger lesson, and a better cause than my own ego, at stake. We'll find out soon enough.

One more week of training in Montana, and then off to Australia for a week of acclimatization for the race on September 13. If you see me on the road or in your pond, kindly encourage my to hurry the hell up.

To make a comment on this blog post, click the "comments" link below and choose "name/url" from the "Comment as" drop down menu. Add your name to the "name" field (no need to add a url if you do not have one)...then add and post your comments.

May/June/July

Click Here to Donate Today!

I have been part of a Missoula-based triathlon training group (Team Stampede) for about 15 years. We have graduated many of our ranks up through the upper amateur levels of the sport, and a few who have gone on to become professional triathletes (before you laugh, yes, there is such a thing. Last year the sport's top woman, Britain's Chrissie Wellington, made over $500,000.) My journey through the sport, however is destined to end at the amateur level. My goal of dong well enough at the US National Championships to make it the Worlds has now been met for the fourth time. We compete within our five-year age groups; in Australia, I will be competing against 100 or so of the best 45 to 49 year old triathletes from 60 nations. In addition to age groups ranging from 20 to 80+, there will be elite junior, under-23, and professional elite divisions of the race, which for all athletes consists of a 1.5 kilometer (.93-mile) swim, followed by a 40 kilometer (24.8-mile) bike segment, and ending with a 10 kilometer (6.2-mile run.) The professional athletes will cover the entire race in about 1 hour 50 minutes. The rest of us mortals will be shooting for between 2 and 2 1/2 hours. Some will take longer.

Training in Montana, in the spring, for a race that is going to take place in Australia's spring (in September) is a bit of a challenge.

Montana in Spring is a big lie. Endurance enthusiasts (swimmers, cyclists, runners) know this better than anyone. You get a few days of hope (70's and sun), only to fall back into February-ish temperatures and frozen moisture. Which is why May gets attacked with such vehemence, that many of us are left injured, burned out, and exhausted by the middle of the summer.

Fortunately, work and family obligations keep most of us from having enough time to actually "over-train."

May brought on a frenzy of bike rides, pool sessions, and midday group runs, and a few multiple sessions on the weekends. Towards the beginning of June, I ventured out to open water spots like Lake Como, Frenchtown Pond, and the Polson end of Flathead Lake. Thank God for the proliferation of wetsuits designed specifically for swimming (there are about 20 companies that make them, more flexible, body-hugging, and buoyant than surfing or waterskiing wetsuits, and worth a 10% time reduction in a mile swim.) I got a few formal training sessions in with Christoff at the Bitterroot Aquatic Center (his French accent is thick enough, and his vocabulary limited enough, that I don't usually know what he's saying till about August, but his SHEER VOLUME makes me swim faster. Towards the middle of June, I was ready to start racing, if slowly.

The Alcatraz Triathlon is one of the oldest, most revered races in the U.S., and next the the Hawaii Ironman, the hardest to get into. I spent five years in their lottery system before getting a slot, and was racing in June for the third year in a row. I flew to San Francisco, met with come clients to justify the airfare, and tacked down an old bike I had left with a friend. Usually, triathletes are extremely picky about their precious equipment, transporting their $10,000 time-trial machines in specialized containers at great expense to various competitions. I decided that up until the World Championships in Australia, I was going to race cheap, heavy, and unsophisticated equipment and apparel. That way, when I arrived in Gold Coast with my fancy TT bike and Team USA swim skin uniform, I would feel FAST. So the borrowed bike was part of the plan.

The ferry stopped 100 yards from the cliffs of the prison at Alcatraz Island, and as the gun went off, 1800 of us jumped into the black, 56-degree water of San Francisco Bay. 1.5 miles and 12 currents later, most of us arrived at the St. Francis Yacht Club beach, and ran to retrieve our bikes at Chrissy Field. After a 20 mile-bike through the Presidio and Golden Gate Park, we dumped our bikes and ran through the neighborhoods overlooking Baker Beach, down to the water, back up the "sand-ladder" and back to Chrissy Field for a glorious finish and breakfast and maybe a Bloody Mary or two. I was 10th in my age-group, about 60th overall. Not a great swim (my worst part, typically) but a decent effort. And a really good breakfast.

The idea was to use a few key races (mostly local, because of time/money constraints) to motivate my middle-of-summer training, mostly short stuff ("sprint" races, about half the distance of Worlds) that would keep me in the mode of swim-bike-run, without too much build-up or burn-out. In mid-July, I ran the Missoula Half-Marathon with Lanice, one of the Youth Homes kids who was running her first real, long race. Easily the most inspiring workout of the summer, Lanice and I started conservatively, and dropped our pace every mile until she ran away from me in the last half-mile at a six-minute per mile pace. Lanice got her first "half" under her belt, I got a good long run in, and Youth Homes got about $1000 out of some of you who agreed to kick off my campaign by pledging for that race. Foys Lake (sprint tri on Fathers Day,) a few bike races in Hamilton in late July, and the inaugural Lake Como Triathlon rounded out the month. A rare overall win at Como gave me a false sense of well-being for about 10 minutes, until I found out my friend John Weston (53) had won a half-Ironman in Three Forks that same morning. We raced a swim/run race at Frenchtown the next weekend (John won again, I was fourth) and the Polson Lake swim that same afternoon.

Mondays are generally about recovering from the weekend's ridiculous activities. Tuesday through Friday has been a mix of lunchtime swims, a couple of short runs, two gym sessions (light weights, long sets, and no rest between, under the watchful eye of John Humble at Ironhorse Athletic Club) and a mix of long and short bike rides. Weekends end up being races or structured bike/swim trips to Como, sometimes a little fuzzy depending on work/client commitments the night before. Kids were visiting grandparents and cousins in California for most of the month, so I really had no excuses to do anything but work, train, eat, and sleep. I know, sounds glamorous, but try it sometime. Loses its luster by about the eight workout.

Next up: the do-or-die month of August...

To make a comment on this blog post, click the "comments" link below and choose "name/url" from the "Comment as" drop down menu. Add your name to the "name" field (no need to add a url if you do not have one)...then add and post your comments.