How To Win Kona Before The End Of The World

People Say I Race A Lot…

But the one who writes my program doesn’t seem worried. And neither does the captain piloting this ship. Dirty doubles are just about my favorite thing in the world. I love them. Love, love, love. That’s the only barometer I answer to…

So Boise is where I’ll be June 8th, one week after Honu June 1st, lining up for that noon start time, hoping the day will be hail free…tornado free…vampire bat free…whatever it is Boise likes to consist of on race days. Behave, Idaho. Behave.

St. George 70.3 - 4:35:45 - #5 AG #72 Overall

Tough day in St. George. Brutal races demand extraordinary effort - obviously, but important to note.  I don’t think I’ve ever gone this deep physically in a race without wheels falling off.  My lungs still hurt.  Breathing is labored — I feel like I have emphysema.  If something makes me laugh, I cannot stop coughing. I think it’s a lot of things - altitude, dry desert air, huge power pushes on the very hilly bike and run. Maybe I just need to sleep for 12 hours tonight.

This is my lowest Ironman 70.3 finish in a long time. Going back to Honu last year, my AG ranks in 70.3’s not including the world championship have gone 2, 2, 1, 2, 3, 2, 1. So seeing a 5 was a little shocking. But I’m good - and have been having conflicting emotions that this may have been my best race. I have never, never spent so much on a bike course, never pushed so hard as I did. When I look at my numbers, I rode a 2:31, 7 minutes back from the top guys in my AG. So all that work, very little in return. Then I went out feeling absolutely destroyed and put up a composed 1:31 on a brutal run course.  Very proud of that.  On the surface, none of this is special.  The guy who won my age group ran a 1:20.  And I may be losing my mind, which is nothing new, but for reasons I can’t well define, my race was special.  It also makes me seriously dread Las Vegas 70.3, but only because I’m beginning to understand something that’s probably been pretty obvious to smart people and dismissed by stubborn fools like me — I can’t race hills on the bike. Yet. Vegas, Oceanside, St. George all left me bitching about this or that, looking at my times like I’d been riding a broken wheel. Climbing, technical courses are killing me.  They’re taking my strength and turning it into weakness - Why? Maybe because I’m 200+  Maybe my technical skills suck.  But I’m sitting here right now and I feel like — at least I know.  Next time I have to deal with a course like this is Vegas in September, and I’ll have all of open August to prepare for that.

Next up is Honu 70.3.  This is a major, major race, and it’s going to be a good one.  Not only is it the place I qualified for the Ironman World Championship last year, but it’s Kona. Last year there was 1 slot in 30-34.  This year, I think we’ll get 2.  Maybe.  In the above photo taken of our extended St. George podium, 1st place is left.  He’ll be there.  I beat him in Honu in 2012 and then he showed up to the Ironman WC and put up a 9:16.  Sickly fast.  The very talented guy to his left is Rob Lea, one of my Purplepatch brothers and floor crashers when he comes through town.  He’s also the defending 70.3 world champion in 30-34.  Sickly fast.  He’ll be there.  In St. George, the guy up top handed it to Rob.  Rob handed it to me.  But different course, different day, different things happen.  

In my mind and in my own belief, I am only as good as my last race.  Right now, I am a 4:35 half-ironman performer with slim to no shot at getting back to Kona through Honu.  That’s how I would perceive me on the starting line.  In this sport, we don’t look back.  Even if you beat a guy by 2 seconds, he is GONE.  So I am out of the picture.  Discounted.  But I am also this, will never stop talking or scrapping, and Kona es fucking mia.

Race Week - St. George 70.3

Big one in Utah this weekend. Looks to be the most loaded pro field outside of Vegas and Kona for the entire year. So that’s cool. Because above it all, I’m a fan. Should be a great atmosphere.

It’s been a LONG time since my last race. Not true, but it feels that way. Honestly, what it feels like is that I am coming out of a long and focused re-write. After Oceanside, I wanted to leave the first part of my season behind. Galveston was too soon after to really clean internal house, so my aim was to salvage part one in Texas purely on guts, which happened with an AG win and beating a Brazilian who was #49 OA #4 in my AG in Kona last year. He beat me there by 23 minutes. One of the things that has really bothered me this year was being off from top Kona and Vegas amateurs, so this was a good and desperately needed early step. Now, it’s May. Now, momentum begins. Every week, things get a little more real. More than anything, I needed a punch in the face. That happened. Then, it happened again - all recently. Now, I spend days asking things to try and knock my teeth out. So that I will be propelled. Part two starts in Utah. Then it moves through Honu, Boise, Vineman, and IM Switz. Then and naturally comes part three.

I listened to an archive podcast from Coach Dixon and Jesse Thomas this week. It was from last year, as Jesse was prepping to defend his Wildflower title, which he went on to do and will go for a 3-peat this year. There were a couple things I took from it. The first - you couldn’t pay me to root against that guy. If you haven’t seen his interview after the first Wildflower win, I recently saw it for the first time attached to his great write up for this year’s coming race — trust me, it’s better than 10 minutes of whatever else you’ll watch today. JT - may you always remain a man-child.

For me, the most applicable thing they talked about was the difference and importance between being process vs. results-driven. Matt is a great coach. I think what Purplepatch does suits me perfectly. Process is getting up every day and taking one step, and being smart and calculated and present about it. When Jesse turned pro, they made somewhat of an agreement to remain process-driven, to not become discouraged by the results, because they had a plan — and their lens was long, 3-4-5 years down the line. It’s what you absolutely have to do. And I absolutely have a vision for myself 3-4-5 years down the line as well. So I believe in the process absolutely. Absolutely. However…

Something has become very clear to me — my process in 2013 needs to be 100% results-driven. I have to win, because I can and will be capable of it. Because I believe not winning amateur races means I didn’t show up ready and willing to go where I needed to go. Oceanside gave me nothing. Hate to be so absolute, but it’s true. I showed up thinking I was hot shit and coasted. And I got hammered for it. In Texas, I won 30-34 by 20 seconds and it gave me everything…because one week later, I know what I did to earn those 20 seconds. It’s time to start layering good hurt. St. George is big and brutal and some of my fastest friends will be there, all claiming the same rights just ahead, behind or on the same start line. The greater we all want to be, the greater we will make each other…so everyone MUST bring it.

(Source: frangry)

Race Week - Galveston 70.3

The plan was to have a great race in Oceanside, pick up the pieces, put them back together, get on a plane, and hit it again in Texas the following Sunday - this Sunday. The race in Oceanside was fine - I took a lot out of it, but didn’t have the result I was expecting. My bike split usually gives me a gap on the top AG runners in the field. This time, the guys I was expecting to gap actually gapped me. I hardly checked my watch the entire race, so actually thought I had a good day until I saw the bike split of 2:26. It’s taken me a while to digest and get over it, but I bought in at the beginning of the season that this was going to be a progression from March until the end of October. The story I am trying to tell matters later in the year - this is the build up. 

In the past, I would see a race on the schedule and find hills with my bike - ride them for weeks until I couldn’t walk when I got home. And I would run laps and laps around San Vicente, pouring guts out to try and get my legs fast. There was no thought, or evolution - it was go to the point of rupture, shake it off and get after it again. Then race to the point of rupture, shake, and repeat. 

Now I have a coach I trust, and a path to follow. We’ve been moving through foundation and I need to accept that. Pretty soon, the dial will turn, and I will be able to hurt myself again, under a watchful umbrella, eyes set on October. As much as I wanted to go out and win the amateur race this past Saturday - in the long run, it may have been more valuable to learn and understand something quickly - nothing is going to come easy, and I cannot come into any race and just casually dominate the bike. I thought I could, and would in Oceanside - even at this point in the season. That didn’t happen - didn’t even come close. Good morning Mr. Smith - wake yourself, son.

All that being said, I’m damn glad to have another shot at a starting line this weekend. This week is going to be all about eating well, sleeping, and responsible touch ups. This amateur field is going to be stacked and I have zero intentions of making a gentle approach. My head is the hardest and I have some friends whose hearts I want to break. They’ll certainly be trying to break mine.