Spot the Crackhead!

I snagged some pics from the website for last Sunday's indoor triathlon. I did not know someone was taking pics while *I* was on the sideline cheering and taking pics of some guys I know. Count the hotties in each pic below:

A Day in the Life, Part II

Continuation of yesterday:

5:40AM Drive to the Y to run. Towel Nazi is not at the front desk, so I'm able to score 2 towels so I can actually dry off after I shower.
5:50AM I'm on the treadmill. I brought a can of Coke with me and a bottle of Gatorade. My stomach isn't right from the coffee, and I'm thinking it's going to be mostly Coke. Suprisingly, my legs do not feel too bad, although the Zone 1 shit feels waaaaay too slow. There are an awful lot of smiley, morning workout people at the Y. 25% of them recognize me.
6:20AM Time to start Zone 2. It still feels slow, but not that bad. I'm able to take sips of Gatorade now, although periodically I want to gag and puke anyway.
6:50AM 1 hour down, I get to--you guessed it--take yet another shit. Ah, the pleasures of running, training hard, and a high metabolism. I use the opportunity to change the CD in my CD player (still no iPod, don't start on me) while I am in the can.
6:55AM Back on the treadmill, and a friend, Jamie, comes in. One of the first entrants into the Hottie Brigade. I love talking to him, it's like we both get motor mouth when we see one another. One of these days I hope I get to ride with him again.
7:55AM I'm done! It was a good idea to run on the treadmill today. My legs had been pretty beat up from last week, and they finally feel "normal" again. Well, as normal as you feel after running 2 hours.
8:15AM I'm back home, ass in chair, working, sucking down Endurox R4. Ready to face the leftover crises from yesterday, but I am easing into things, and after prioritizing, think it won't be such a hectic day after all.
10:15 One long call, and now I'm getting hungry. Colleague wants to chat post-team call, which is good, but I am fucking starving, so I'm on the speaker phone making myself breakfast or whatever it is. 4 eggs, 3 pieces of Canadian bacon chopped, scrambled and cooked in butter, English muffin also buttered. Man, I love eggs. I wolf this down and start to feel better.
12:00PM I'm fucking tired. I want a nap, but there's no time for that. Must keep working.
12:30PM Guy arrives to go over with me what yard work I'd like him to do. First time I'm paying someone to do some of it for me--I have just run out of time for some reason this year, and I want it finished before June rolls around! Stuff like trim all the shrubs, weeding, etc.
1:00PM Back into work crisis mode, but I seem to have a handle on things. Start wondering how I am going to make it through the day without a nap. Eat some bananas, which helps temporarily.
4:00PM Work is under control; maybe I can finish up my lifting from yesterday, so I do (16 minutes is all), but my muscles are screaming at me while I do it (bis, tris, chest), and yet I do a little posing in a mirror and am happy about how I look.
5:15PM I call it a day, workwise, and get ready to go to The Bike Shop. Load Bitch into car first, blanket on top, and LGL on top of her. My bikes are having sex back there. I'm concerned that the metals (magnesium and boron carbide) will commingle and birth some mutant bike back there.
5:40PM I'm at The Bike Shop. So what am I having done? Well...Bitch is getting BLUE (or as they call it, blau) Nokon cables! Also, I'm ditching the X-LAB and getting a carbon behind-the-seat-bottle holder. I needed to observe LGL being lubricated one more time so I know how to do it--she has special lubrication needs due to the way her Nokon's had to be installed. I also had them switch the cassette on the back (I can do it myself, but what the hell) since I'm riding in Wisconsin on Saturday. I also picked up my new Louis Garneau Rocket Helmet (I got the blue and white one, of course):


It's fucking gorgeous, and looks good with Bitchie. I also had shims put into the left shoe of both LGL's and Bitch's shoes, since my left foot is different than my right and my left leg has a functional shortness compared to my right. I also picked out new carbon cages (curiously enough, Profile Karbon Kages) for Bitchie once she has carbon on her butt and on the seat tube. She is going to look awesome once they are done with her! I also looked at (first time you are hearing about it) fixies online, and have decided on this one:


I'm going to put cowhorn bars on it with sweet bar tape, Cane Creek brake levers,

and no, I don't have a name for it (I think it's a HIM) yet.
8:30PM I get home (yes, my bike shop trips are legendary lately), throw pasta into the microwave, load the coffee pot, crack a beer, start making a list of crap I need to do on Friday, wolf down the food, decide I better eat more, think about TV, scrap that idea, grab a package of crackers and read yesterday's newspaper in bed for about 15 minutes, decide I better pass out since I have to be done swimming by 7:45AM (and I'm doing the 4,000 yard workout again).

Phew. Now it's Friday...
2:45AM I wake up. At first I'm not sure whether it's stress, I'm hungry, or I have to pee. Lay there for awhile, and guess what? I have to take a shit AND I'M HUNGRY. Take care of the first item, then make a sandwich, eat it while reading a little bit more of the newspaper, and then try and go back to sleep. No such luck, really, but laying down is still a good thing.
3:55AM I look at the clock and decide, close enough. I'm awake. Turn on the coffee pot, put on a record (I'm loving the new turntable, and I still LOVE Ska--like I need to listen to really fast, crazy music, you know). Grab a Power Bar and get rolling. Think about what I have to do today--swim 4,000 yards, work on major crisis at work, maybe run a little bit, go grocery shopping later (and booze sampling), stretch, fix bottles for Saturday's festival (Patti and I are riding the ENTIRE IMWI course and then running--I wonder if I can pull it off), begin packing for Saturday, set the coffee pot, OMG OMG OMG OMG OMG OMG.

And yet, despite all this craziness, I am loving life!

What the Hell am I Doing????

I'm actually in the Tiki Hut trainin' for Triple T and IMLP.

And then I'm going to the Tiki Bar...I'm meeting my hottie tri babe posse there...Shelley and Cindy.

Weekly Workout Totals 8/20/2007-8/26/2007 and Hottie Inspiration

I was feeling slackerish this morning in getting ready for my swim. Not sure why--I had a pretty good run yesterday (albeit on the dreadmill), even though my legs were still tired from the Sunday festival.

So I donned my Vegas pink suit, pink flip flops and grabbed a pink cap and headed to the pool. On the way in, I ran into a friend who had done the Bike Psychos ride on Sunday, and I think it was his first 100-miler, and he said he had 110 miles! Again, that meshes perfectly with me ending at 134 miles on the day. I congratulated him for toughing it out.

Arriving on the pool deck, I ran into Brent, who I've only seen once at the Y. I told him I must be psychic, and by that I meant that I was wearing my pink suit. We chatted, and I laughed because he knew what was going on with me because he reads this blog. I warmed up, and we chatted some more and he asked me how much I was going to swim today. I said I should swim 3500, but that I had looked at a workout and wasn't doing that and would just make something up.

I took off and was cycling through what I might do--5x500, 8x300, 6x400 or what. Initially, I settled in on swimming 2000 straight, then I was thinking 2x1500, but at 1500 I just wanted to keep going (which is odd, since I rarely do long, straight swims), so then I thought I'd keep going to 2000, but when I finished that, I figured I would just swim until 8:30. I ended up swimming 3000 straight, so with my warmup, 3800 yards.

So thanks, Brent, for inspiring me today. After all our talk about HTFU, I got that in my head and it got me going. Oh and yeah I enjoyed watching you swim there for awhile. I mean, ladies--have you ever known a guy named Brent who wasn't a hottie? I'd put him in my Hottie Brigade, except I don't have a pic of him (yet). Guess I need to take my camera to the pool...

Here's how I finished out last week:

Weekly Workout Totals	08/20/2007-08/26/2007
Swim:	10800 yards (6.13 miles) in 3.67 hours; 18% of weekly workout time; approx. 1284 calories burned
Bike:	Approx. 200.41 miles in 11.53 hours; 57% of weekly workout time; approx. 5191 calories burned
Run:	Approx. 28.16 miles in 4.42 hours; 22% of weekly workout time; approx. 2009 calories burned
Strength:	0.72 hours; 4% of weekly workout time; approx. 180 calories burned
All Sports:	Approx. 234.7 miles in 20.34 hours; approx. 8664 calories burned
Sleep:	7.61 hours avg./night
Stretching:	1.83 hours. Massage: 1.5 hours

Ironman USA Lake Placid Race Report--Race Morning

This is my pink TY collection (so far). Third from the left is the Fucking FeFe poodle I spoke of in the Preamble...

Race Morning

I woke up to pee maybe 3 minutes before my alarm went off at 3:30AM. Actually, it was 3:20AM, but for some reason I had this alarm clock set 10 minutes fast. I was about to doze off after peeing when it sprang into action. I rarely need an alarm clock, so this was a bit of a shock to the system, but I had gotten plenty of sleep (about 7 hours), so I didn’t feel poorly. I didn’t want to wake Rich right away if at all possible, so I just turned on the bathroom light in our small hotel room.

First things first—I retrieved my pre-mixed Gag Juice (Ultrafuel) from the fridge and began drinking it. I just couldn’t shoot the entire thing at once, but I think I drank about ½ at once and then the remainder about 5 minutes later. I wanted to get that stuff down (400 calories worth) so that some of it could flush through my system.

Next, I began getting dressed. I had laid everything out the night before, so it was chip, tri shorts, bra top, singlet, t-shirt, Spongebob Squarepants pants and Paul Frank sweatshirt. I was debating whether or not to wear the bra top under the singlet, but then I had flash thoughts about nipple chafing, so I went with it.

Rich probably heard me scuttling around like a squirrel and woke up, and he went to locate coffee. I felt pretty relaxed and all, after all, the past 4 days had just been a waiting game, and it was time to get this show on the road. I pulled all my bags from their overnight position on the side of my bed onto the open floor space and started double-checking things.

While Rich was gone, I snapped a photo of myself in front of the mirror with the “GO” sign replacing my head, I guess as some sort of motivational tool.

Rich got back around 4:15 with the coffee. It seemed he had been gone forever, though! Sometimes it’s a good thing when time drags—other times not so much. Coffee was a welcome sight, meaning I could add my Power Bar Triple Threat (another 230 calories, which I can only eat with coffee in hand) to my stomach so that I’d be topped off with carbs save for part of a Gatorade.

Usually, I will eat a Succeed capsule or two the night before an Ironman, but I drank about 80 oz. of Gatorade on Saturday, so I figured I’d had plenty of sodium. Not only that, but my custom Infinit mix is loaded up with electrolytes, since I’ve learned over the years that I sweat rather concentrated (I DNF’ed with hyponatremia at Ironman Wisconsin 2003).

Somehow the next 25 minutes or so passed. Part of it was taken up by Rich bodymarking me. Since I had donned fake tattoos on both biceps and also my calves, he made some comment about how to fit my number (2488) on, and I said just do ½ above the band and ½ below. When he got to writing my age on my calf, he had to ask me again how old I am. Sometimes I hate saying it because I really don’t feel my age most of the time. In fact, because of how silly and giggly I can get and some of the pink decorative items I tend to accumulate, recently one of my girlfriends said to me, “What are you, twelve?” But, hey, age is what it is, and so I coughed up the big FIVE OH.

I don’t remember what else went on in that time slot, but I know I didn’t feel edgy. I suppose a big part of that was due to Rich more or less taking care of me, which is something I’ve never had the luxury of before. Well let me back up—I have had a non-racing friend with me a few times before, but not someone with the same experience level as Rich, so they would know what to do and how to react (or not) to my squirreliness. Before Ironman Hawaii in 2004, I was pretty stone-faced and nervous, and I didn’t want my friends to look at me, touch me, or touch anything that was going into transition with me.

Some of my pre-Ironman attitude depends upon what I’m going into the race with, goal-wise. I have had pipe dreams in the past of Kona slots, but this time, I wasn’t even thinking about that, so I guess some of the pressure was off and I could be my normal calm, joking self.

When it was time to go, we got in the car, and Rich knew where to park the car because while he’s not raced this Ironman before, he’s attended and knows some secret spots. We parked, got out and walked down a hill (I’m not saying where), and soon enough I’m at the entrance. He sort of looked at me like, “Are you going to be OK?” and I told him I was good to go and that I’d see him later.

I got into transition by 5:15, and first I dropped off my Ultra Violence that was lovingly loaded into my Big Bertha Fuel Belt into my T2 bag. Then I headed for my bike. When I had checked in Bitchie, I forgot to deflate the tires a bit and almost went back to do that, but Rich assured me not to worry about it (I have never over-inflated a tire), so I left things alone. I put my bottles on Bitchie, the SRM meter, and then I checked the tires. I have Tufo tubulars on my Cane Creek Chronos (with Titanium spokes, thank you very much, I’m such a fucking poser), and those tires don’t deflate much at all. In fact, when I loaded Bitchie into the box before leaving for Albany, the tires were super hard after not being ridden for 2 weeks!

So in the space of maybe 5 minutes, I’m done. Now what the fuck am I supposed to do? I have my own pump, and there are lots of people in line waiting to get their tires pumped, so I decided to play Good Samaritan, since I’ve got loads of time on my hands, and randomly selected athletes to pump up. For some reason, each one I selected was an Iron Virgin, and I had my calm on, and knew to speak softly and calmly to them as I asked them what pressure (although I always guessed 120PSI). I got a little nostalgic looking into the eyes of some of these guys, thinking how exciting it is to be doing your first one. I tried not to act all jaded when they would ask me how many Ironman races I’ve done. Crap—it’s making me cry just writing about this. I felt like some saint ministering to the needy. For one poor guy, the valve stem broke off on his front tube, and I could tell it was old. It was only 5:30AM, so I calmly told him he had plenty of time to get that tube changed, and I pointed him to where Tech Support was located.

As I was walking back to begin suiting up, I spotted Chad and Steve, two guys I had ridden with back in June (they are the genesis of my Hottie Brigade on Flickr). Chad was pretty relaxed, but Steve looked pretty nervous. Still, we shared hugs, and I offered up my pump. Chad was also running Tufo tubulars, so I noted to him that they don’t lose much pressure, which was why the pump head kept popping off. We went by feel on his tires, and everything was all set.

Next, I got in line for the porta-potty to hopefully take a good dump (sorry, but we all do it, you know?). While in line, I heard a guy talking about how he had 3,600 of calories loaded into his bike bottles! I was unsure of whether to bite my tongue or not, and I decided to have a little heart to heart with the man. I told him that that’s probably about what he’d burn, but to plan on only replacing ½ of that. He said he’d done this in training, but I cautioned him that the stomach often does interesting things when the heart rate is jacked up due to racing and all, and that he should be prepared to modify his plan if needed. He was OK with this, and I got my turn and was successful in my mission.

I went over back to my bags, which were also in the end zone of the bag area. I am so old (Studio Audience: HOW OLD ARE YOU???)…I am so old that I don’t even rate a rack to put my bags on. In a way, though, that was a good thing, because my bag position, just like my bike rack, was easy to find. Just go all the way to the fucking end of all the bags!

I started stripping my dry clothes and everything right at my bag spot. I saw Shelley putting on her wetsuit and we had a hug before the big day began. I finished up getting my suit on, and then began milling around, figuring I should head down to the lake. On my way out, Rich flagged me down. I hadn’t expected to see him until much later in the day, so it was nice to see him again. I think I did a little bouncy dance in front of him—not sure why. Guess I wasn’t feeling too stressed, although I had a moment right then where I wanted to cry, but I didn’t. We jabbered for a few minutes until someone else he knew spotted him, and I took this as a cue to get my butt out of there.

I began the walk down to the lake, and the sidewalk was now carpeted with something resembling Astroturf. There were spectators walking on there with shoes, which got me upset, so I began telling people with shoes to get off the carpet so it wouldn’t get too full of rocks and assorted other shit. Some of them were clueless, so I’d tap them lightly and ask again. Some of the other athletes looked at me like I must be pretty gutsy to do something like that, but I am not a person of inaction. Sometimes people are just stupid and don’t realize what they are doing, and I didn’t know what non-athletes were doing in the chute, anyway.

As soon as I got down to the lake, Mike spotted me. How the hell he recognized me all neoprened up I don’t know, but I guess it’s my short, blond hair or something. It was nice to see a familiar face, and at this point, I began emitting an almost continuous string of F-bombs, which made Mike laugh. I told him that once I am about to go off, this is what happens, and I think I had motor mouth. But we kept smiling and laughing and we went into the water together and generally trying to keep one another as loose as you can be before you are about to start an Ironman.

I ended up lining up with the 1:10-1:15 crowd, or so they said. I am definitely capable of a 1:10-1:15 swim, so I thought this would be good. I had read about the 2006 race and how congested the swim was, and that there was lots of flailing and body contact, so I wasn’t looking forward to the melee, but what are you going to do?

In no time, the National Anthem was playing, and we were going to start.

Ironman USA Day 1 (cont'd) and Beginning of Day 2

The FLICKR folder has been updated: http://www.flickr.com/photos/8737154@N04/sets/72157600902724760/

I'm at McD's, unbelievably, for the second time this trip--today I'm just here because I woke up at my customary 3:30AM (4:30AM here in Lake Placid) and wanted coffee, and saw McD's has WIFI and they open at 5:00AM.

Yesterday I came to McD's because I was so fucking starved from my travel adventure Wednesday night that I got a Sausage McMuffin w/Egg. I needed that!

My pimp arrived about midnight last night and guess what the first thing out of his mouth was? "Does this hotel have wireless?" I about popped him one, but just laughed. He's zonked out snoozing while I'm contributing valuable content to the Internet!

This morning I'm going swimming, and rumor has it I will be hottie spotting. After swimming, I'm going to hopefully get on my bike (it pissed all day yesterday so no workouts) and then run, and then this afternoon is bag day (pack the transition bags). Hopefully, "someone" will be buying me maybe lunch and dinner--I don't really want to go to the carbo thing or athlete meeting.

Whereas yesterday I felt like complete and total crap from hours of travel and lack of sleep, today I feel rarin' to go--although if you ask Shelley, I was pretty wired yesterday from my most excellent caffeine adventure care of Green Mountain Coffee Roasters (a fine customer of the company that I work for).

OK, I am recovered and ready to wreak havoc on this place, at least for today!

Crackhead over and out...watch this space for daily or even more frequent updates!

BCLC Ramble 6/10/2007 Hottie Shot

I just located this photo at the BCLC club site. It's me, hottie Chad (guy I met at IM Brazil last year) and his friggin' ultra hottie friend, Steve. The club dude taking pics pre-ride was enamored of my Bitch (or was it me...he he), and kindly asked if he could shoot us.

While I only rode behind Chad and Steve for a bit (they launched right into intervals), I ended up finishing 105 miles only about 5' after they were done, and I don't think I was quite as shelled.

Steve--if you are out there, get in touch...both of these guys will be racing IMLP, so I'm sure to see them somewhere, right? I tell ya, Steve gets me going...those legs...that smile...you should see the back view...that's all I'm saying.

I created a set on Flickr called "Hottie Brigade," and these guys made it in, and I threw in some others that I was easily able to locate. More hotties will be on the way, so check in there periodically. I am sure there will be lots of hotties located at IMLP next week. Rules for entry are that I think the person (male or female--hey I don't discriminate and can appreciate both sexes, even though I'm straight) is a hottie, and I was present while the photo was taken (whether or not I personally shot the photo). No, you can't submit photos to me. That would make you a loser. But feel free to suggest names of hotties I should meet so I can um...evaluate them!