I'm a debatable gentleman and endurance sport activist living in Los Angeles. Here, we'll talk about the second of those two things...
Catching Elephant is a theme by Andy Taylor
Story Of The Day…
Brilliant course, tough day out there. On the last turn, with a little over a mile to the transition, my back tire BLEW. My wheel slid out and I couldn’t ride or roll it. So I put it on my shoulder and carried it for 1/4 mile before getting the wheel back in place and running it the next 3/4. That’s me eating my post 56 mile sweat and piss shoe insole and carrying my shoes. When it was happening, I kept telling myself to keep it together as I got passed and passed. Then, I told myself that if I could still sneak onto the podium after giving up that time, it would easily go down as one of the proudest races I’ve ever competed in. Sadly, I came in 7th barring some Panamanian computing error. Still, very proud of how things ended up. I had to fight a lot out there today. A lot. I honestly thought I could come down here and take an age group and contend for amateur champ. Maybe on a different day, I could have. Maybe I need to work harder. That’s sort of how it goes in this game. I’ll have more later. Right now, I’ve got to go make peace with my poor, bruised and lonely steed.
Eve Of Panama 70.3…
I’ve seen everything now. The swim is going to be fast - big currents in the canal. Apparently, the later your swim wave, the faster the current. I swim in the 3rd to last wave, so my 1.2 mile swim split should be somewhere around 4 minutes. Not quite, but close. There was a buzz floating around today about a very surprising bike course. I was able to get outside of the city and take a look - it’s aggressive. There’s a large bump heading out into the country and over the Bridge Of The Americas, then another long, steady climb called the monster or something equivalent. It’s LONG. It’ll take guts to ride this course well - attack up, fly down and repeat and repeat and repeat. The asphalt is smooth, and black, and it’s going to be hot - mid 90’s. Very difficult to gauge times and what to expect on speed so you just gotta go and go hard. Then, run your ass off. That’s my plan. I’ll know exactly how it’s going somewhere in the late 10’s/early 11’s.
There are few feelings that can compare to sitting in a hotel room the night before a race like this, having everything taken care of and nothing at all taken care of. In the morning, we’ll all wake up to an elected fight and then go out and do our best to perform to stored hopes or expectations. The anticipation is always quite beautiful.
Good luck to everyone racing tomorrow, here or around the world.
The Flying Dutchgirl…
I had the pleasure of riding and spending the morning with one of the greats in the world of womens’ racing, Yvonne Van Vlerken. She’s known around these parts as the Queen Of Cozumel for winning the first 2 editions of the full Ironman there, and also worldwide for the crazy video posted above on her win in Austria 70.3 back in 2010, where she also hails from. When I was walking my bike through the lobby, about to brave the mad streets in central downtown, she told me to come with her and another fine New Orleans gentleman named Patrick in a van so that we could ride on safer roads, register, and do a little course recon. She’s one of the favorites on Sunday, and to go through the paces with a champion of her caliber for a couple hours, to see and feel the way she prepares her body and mind was valuable to say the least. Also instantly one of the sweetest people I’ve ever met. Austria 70.3 2013 is already penciled in.
Race Week - Panama 70.3
This has been hanging on my door for the past 2 months. I see it a dozen times a day. On Thursday morning, I’ve got a non-stop to Panama City. On Sunday, I wake up to wrestle my first real race of 2012. It’s exciting. I’m excited. When I hung this sign, it was meant for something beyond accolade or accomplishment. I can only control what I can control on a race day, and for me, the sign meant committing to a thousand difficult things that would put me in a position to contend. Hopefully tonight, there are English, and Spanish and other Central and South American language blogs going up with 30-34’s singing tunes like mine. And if they don’t write, hopefully they’re thinking of victory, and what it’s going to take to take it from me — because that’s what I’ll be doing. Looking forward to a great day for all involved.
You Want To See Something REALLY Scary?
I had been losing sleep over a couple things, one of them was getting my new wheel set and bike taken care of before February 8th. Last year at Vegas, LA and Kona, I raced on a Zipp 1080/808. It was my first experience on deep carbons and they served me well enough, even if I didn’t race anywhere near superbly on them…but that was more a motor issue and not the machine. For whatever reason, something about them didn’t feel quite right. I think because I had bought them used, and because I lacked experience with their FEEL. If that sounds superstitious, it is…and I am. Blame it on 23 years on or around a baseball diamond.
Tomorrow, after double class and before Tower 26, I’m taking these new Firecrest 808/404 onto the PCH for a spin. On Sunday, we’ll go out again. We’re going to get a feel for each other, to learn about each other, to get on the same page before it’s time to perform in Panama on the morning of February 12th.
The other thing? I thought I had to rush out and somehow drop 400-600 on a wetsuit in time for Panama. Not the case. Water is Torque weather, low-80’s. So for now, I can hold out until Oceanside at the end of March.
And LAST, I had to drop off the Wattie Elite team so that I could race for Hammer Nutrition. I am so grateful for both the opportunities, but in the end, I can’t wait to throw down for a company like Hammer. I am massively reliant on the majority of their products and am hoping to take advantage of their wildly generous performance incentive program. Good luck Watties. See you on the circuit.
Fear…
With regards to training, I get asked the what and why quite a bit. People want rhyme. People want reason. Especially triathletes. Especially triathletes with coaches, or those who have been coached. And I suppose that’s all for good reason. If you take yourself into training, especially in amounts that are abusive to the body, at least have a good answer ready and waiting. Or lie. That works too.
I’m coming out of base training for 2012. It started November 1st, and will go until I fly back to Chicago on the 22nd, where I must ignore any and all endurance ambitions in favor of letting all of this very hard work settle in for 5 days. Volume has been large - but we don’t need to talk about that. The last couple weeks, I’ve started to introduce speed. Fridays before swimming, I’m biking on the PCH, anywhere from 60 to 90 minutes. Wednesdays before swimming, I’m at the Pali High track. As the first race gets closer, I have 2 fears that need to be conquered - or better, I need to properly prepare myself to conquer them. The first, assuming I’m facing an honest course, is to hold 25 mph for 56 miles. That’s seeing my Garmin flash 2:23 56 times before getting off my bike and being comfortable enough to see a 6:15 pace across the 13.1 miles of run, my second fear. I’m seeing these numbers because I need them, because they scare me. Fear is beautiful, and should never be avoided. I talk to my fears like they are actual people. There is a great respect between us. We are also both constantly trying to destroy and humiliate each other. There’s also that.
When I hit these numbers, I won’t be afraid any longer. Then I’ll move on to something faster, something like 25.5/6:10. Someday 42.0/3:45. What? What the hell else would I be doing? Writing novels?
