Monday, April 21, 2008

Triple Dog Dare (NothingMan) Race Report















While the Bitch, Whore and Slut were doing it doggie style at the Tiki Hut, I was busy doing it Crackhead style. It was (to borrow a term Darren coined) Cracktacular!

Triple Dog Dare NothingMan Race Report

4/18/2008-4/20/2008

Race Format (all done solo, hence a NothingMan):

Friday, 4/18: TinyMan Sprint—550 yard swim (pool), 5-mile bike (Precor stationary),

1-mile run (indoor track)

Saturday, 4/19: RainMan Olympic—1500 yard swim (pool), 25-mile bike (12 miles out

and back from home plus a spin around a few blocks to get to 25 miles),

6.5-mile run (on treadmill as it was still raining)

Sunday, 4/20: NuclearMan Half Ironman—2200 yard swim (pool), 61-mile bike (from

Home to Fermilab, 2 loops in Fermilab and back home), 13.3-mile run

(at Waterfall Glen in Argonne National Laboratory)

Pictures

TinyMan

RainMan

NuclearMan

Race Weight: 110 lbs.

Calories Consumed: Friday I didn’t keep track. Saturday—about 4,400. Sunday—about 4,500

Splits

TinyMan

Swim 10:15 (slow, got no sleep)

Bike 19:20 (Precor not geared like normal bike, didn’t really care)

Run 8:12 (this was OK by me)

Total 37:47 (was this really a workout?)

RainMan

Swim 28:00 (slow, I know—no sleep)

Bike 1:30:00 (residential ride, lots of stopping, rain, didn’t care)

Run 1:00:12 (OK for treadmill run, where I always run slower than outdoors)

Total 2:58:12

NuclearMan

Swim 38:12 (hey, this was good for me)

Bike 3:30:15 (stopped a zillion times to take pictures, you’re welcome!)

Run 2:04:16 (not bad for a ½ marathon; can go faster if no race day before!)

Total 6:12:43

All Three Races

Swim 1:16:27 4250 yards, aka Ironman distance, about

Bike 5:19:35 91 miles

Run 3:12:40 20.8 miles

Total 9:48:42 (piece of cake!)

Race Nutrition

TinyMan: a little bit of Gatorade is all

RainMan: Infinit on bike (1 ½ strength), Coke on run

NuclearMan: Infinit (regular strength) on bike plus 3 gels, Coke on run

Degree of Difficulty: What made the weekend hard was not the volume of anything except for the running, especially since they were brick runs, and also the insane transition times which I won’t even quote. Because of the spread of the workouts on Saturday and Sunday (and all the picture taking, you are most welcome), my metabolism was revved constantly, and there’s no way you can take in enough calories to catch up with what you are burning, but you sure try! Because of the fact that after Saturday’s race I kept on moving around doing stuff, I feel like I approximated the same “feeling” as during Triple T’s Saturday races, and the entire weekend was outstanding preparation for Triple T. However, except for Sunday’s run, all my racing was done on the flats, and it’s the volume of workouts plus the hilliness of the bike and run courses that get to you at Triple T. Nonetheless, I’m pretty pleased with myself for accomplishing this, and I had an absolute blast doing it! So over the past 7 weeks I’ve done 2 sprints, 3 Olympics and 2 Half Ironmans! Not too shabby, I think.

And now, for the gory (and hopefully, sometimes entertaining) details. Some of this I wrote “as I went,” so it’s written in the present tense. Please excuse my grammar! Also, if you correctly identify the total number of exclamation points in this race report and post it in a comment, you’ll win a prize!

Day 1 TinyMan

It’s 9:00AM and I’ve already done a triathlon and changed a flat tire!

I woke up today probably around 3:15. Body and mind figure it’s a race day, so it must be ‘game on.’ I managed to stay in bed until 3:45AM, and once it’s near 4:00AM on a race day, no matter when it starts, I figure I may as well go ahead and get up.

I started the coffee pot, fucked around on the Internet, and was trying to decide when exactly I wanted to begin today and whether I would ride and run outdoors. In the interest of keeping things to a “holding back” pace, since I have no idea if I’ll be able to pull off the other 2 days (up until a few days ago I wasn’t entirely sure I could pull this off since I’d been feeling overtrained and stressed out), I decided I’d do the whole thing indoors. Besides, that would get it over much faster than driving back home after swimming.

Since I had a lot of time on my hands, I washed dishes, and as soon as it got light out, I went outside to admire my almost cleaned up flower beds and pull weeds. Pretty much every spring day you can find me outside getting all dirty in my flower beds as soon as it’s light out. It’s so peaceful before 6:00AM and I can hear birds singing and there’s very little traffic noise. Yesterday was an absolutely gorgeous day, and I did end up going for a short run wearing shorts, which was a total treat, but today is going to be a good day, too, even if it rains later on.

I finally figured I should get off to the Y around 7:00AM, and so I suited up and left. As usual, I conned Mary at the front desk to take a picture of me, and I had other willing photographers throughout the event. Before I even went into the locker room, in walked Chad (whom I swim with regularly), and all I could think was OMG I have to finally get a picture of him! He asked me why, and I said it was for the Hottie Brigade, and he said he didn’t think he looked too hot, but I told him he did. Now, understand that mostly I see him in a Speedo and swim cap, so yeah, he does look different in clothes, but still great. I told him I’d see him on deck.

I’m walking to the locker room and a woman I know, Barb, who guested me into a nearby outdoor pool (ouch I am fat in that photo) last summer (and who has already offered to do so again this summer), walks in and we chat, and I tell her what I’m doing, and so of course she’s happy to take a picture of me in the locker room and since she was going to swim, too, she said she’d take one of me on deck.

I get on deck and Chad has just jumped in and I flagged him down and made him get out so Barb could take a picture of him and me. When I looked at the image on the camera, all I could say was, “Boy, are you TALL!” As if I didn’t already know that. I told him I knew he was tall, but when we’re both in the water it’s not as noticeable as when standing up on dry land, and then when you see a picture of yourself next to someone much taller, it really sinks in. Chad’s such a nice guy, and he even puts up with my smart-assed comments. So I got to swim next to him today. He also constitutes fine, fine scenery, but he is not The Scenery, who I hope to get a shot of one of these days. Alas, Chad is not a free-range hottie, but I like him anyway. I don’t ordinarily bring my camera to the pool except when I’m doing these NothingMan events, and it’s bad enough people are wondering why the hell I’m having pictures taken on deck anyway, but really, do I care what anyone else thinks? Fuck no.

Anyway, I had decided I’d swim 500 yards is all, but then I added 50 more figuring that would be like 500 meters or something. Whatever. It really doesn’t matter today. So I get out, say goodbye to Chad, and meanwhile everyone else in the pool is looking at me because I’ve got all my fake tattoos going, but they look real, and I think I look like some sort of hardcore something or other in them. Which is THE POINT! It’s one of my little race rituals to put them on.

I didn’t get a post-swim picture this time because, well, I didn’t care, after all I got a new Hottie Brigade member!

After I changed into bike shorts and running shoes (I left the swimsuit top on because I knew I’d be hot anyway), I went back to the front desk and got Mary to shoot another picture and besides I needed more towels!

Downstairs to the cardio machine room, and I snagged a Precor bike and hopped on. Today I just did 5 miles which is like the sprint in Triple T, and again, I wasn’t going to push it too much. I saw a news report that there was an earthquake in southern Illinois today (and it was felt by some people in my area), so I guess that makes this a very special day! There was an earthquake up here when I was a kid, and I remember running outside and just running around while the ground shook. It was awesome!

The bike was boring but short, and I got the attendant on duty to take a picture of me when I was done, and I headed right to the indoor track to run a mile. My objective for the run was just to lope easily—no reason for me to go hard at all. I resisted the urge to look at my watch halfway through, and figured since I was so fucking tired from not much sleep the last few days that I couldn’t be running that fast anyway. It felt like 9:00+mpm, but when I finished I saw 8:12 and I wasn’t even trying to go that fast, so that’s cool.

A man who was walking on the track who was there 3 weeks ago when I did my last sprint NothingMan knew what I was doing and he was at the ready to take my finishing picture. Last time he had told me he knew someone who won the Hawaii Ironman, but I wasn’t sure I believed him—he couldn’t remember the name. But he had the name ready this time, and guess who? Tim DeBoom! Turns out his daughter was in high school with Tim’s wife, Nicole, and that’s how he knew about Tim. Of course, I was all over this information, and this nice man couldn’t understand why I was so excited about Tim DeBoom, so I just told him that the Hawaii Ironman winners are like celebrities to us triathletes. How cool!

Back to the locker room to shower and change. I put on my I Heart Endurance Sports thong, much to the chagrin (since I am also tattooed up) of the older ladies who were getting ready for their water aerobics class. Oh, what the hell! And over that went a pair of my Brazilian jeans that are cut low enough you see the thong if my shirt rides up. And the pants were almost hanging off me since I’ve gotten down to 110 (last year I thought was ideal race weight was 112 lbs.)

I headed to my car and decided I may as well gas up my car, so instead of driving home, I headed to the Shell station about a mile from home. I shut off the ignition and was preparing to gas up when some guy there told me one of my tires was going flat. Great! At least I was at a good location to change it, and it wasn’t completely flat, so I drove over to the parking area to change it. Good thing I was wearing those jeans and that thong while I was bent over or squatting to deal with the jack or the tire! Traffic was whizzing by on Main Street Downers Grove, and I’m sure a few motorists got a good look, but I’m not ashamed. I tried getting the lug nuts off, which is usually not a problem for me (alas, I’ve changed flats many times), but for some reason I couldn’t get the torque today—I think maybe I wasn’t on completely level ground—and I was a little pissed because I would need to ask for help. Well, I’m guessing I had been being watched by the service guys anyway, so when I went to ask just for help getting the lug nuts off, it was no problemo! Andrew came and dealt with them and we talked about how much they would charge to fix it. There’s some thing with the stupid rims I have that they corrode and the tire bead loosens and I usually get one flat per winter, so I had been thinking somehow I lucked out this winter, but nope! No worries, I was in a good mood, and Andrew said it wouldn’t cost much, and so I decided to just leave the tire/wheel there.

I gassed up my car and then drove home laughing, thinking that I have no shortage of excitement! And all I can think of is getting stuff ready for tomorrow and Sunday! What a great way to start a weekend!

Transition 1

Pictures here

About an hour after I got home, Andrew called to say my tire was all ready. He only charged me $25, so I gave him a $5 tip. He tried to refuse it, but I told him I was appreciative of his attentiveness and kind attitude, so he took it.

I had decided I wanted some really, really good food for the weekend (and beyond), and since I knocked out my ONE workout in the morning, I had time at lunch to go to my local Italian deli/grocer, Amici’s. Plus, being able to get there mid-day would mean less waiting at the deli counter, where I was going to purchase many meats and cheeses! I suppose you might guess from the pictures that my body is craving fat. So be it! But the cannolis are not all for me—I will take some of them to the bike shop when I pick up Bitchie. I regularly take the guys at the shop beer and sometimes cannoli just so they keep taking good care of me, which they do!

I had the most handsome of the guys at the Deli counter to wait on me. I think his name is Tony, but I’ll have to look at his name tag the next time I’m there. He asked me, “What can I get for you today?” My smart-ass response was, “Lots of meat!” A few people around me laughed at that, and then I chuckled to myself because it was the truth, but also a double entendre.

It usually kills me to watch all these meats and cheeses being sliced up while I wait and not being able to taste, and so, of course, I fixed myself a snack plate at home while putting everything away. I’ll be making one GIANT sandwich with the focaccia bread and the meats and Provolone cheese only. The Romano cheese (if you figured out it’s in the picture) is for grating for another time.

Next, I fixed bottles for the longer races on Saturday and Sunday. Bottle making can be a chore (it is for me, anyway, since I pre-mix 8-10 bottles of Endurox R4 and 4-6 bottles of Gatorade for swimming every week), so I wanted to get that out of the way, too. I’ll be using my custom Infinit mix with caffeine on the bike, and defizzed Coke (or so I hope it is) on the run. Pretty much what I would do in any normal race. I also pre-mixed Ultrafuel for both days. I am hoping more of it will go into solution this way, although I can’t drink it cold and hope I remember to take it out of the fridge right away in the morning.

Now I just need to finish up working for the day, fill and set the timer on the coffee pot, stretch, and set my out of office voicemail and email greetings, since I’m taking Monday off from work. And eat. I’m not feeling as starved as I had been the past few weeks, and what that tells me is that I need to eat more fat. OK, I think I’ll have that covered!

Day 2 RainMan

Since this weekend is about preparation for Triple T at the end of May, it only makes perfect sense that my body would decide to not let me sleep much at all. AGAIN. In one respect, I feel like I’m running on fumes—in another, it’s just really good race preparation, since it’s also difficult to sleep much during Triple T weekend because your body and mind are just so amped. I basically woke up a little before 3AM and forced myself to stay in bed until 4, pretty much like yesterday. It’s not like while I’m laying there I have any anxiety—I mean, what the hell is there for me to be nervous about? But after some solid years of training and racing, the mind and body just have it ingrained that the sleep won’t matter so much. Or maybe I’m an insomniac! Nah—doing these NothingMan things is just as *real* to me as a regular race. Only it’s a whole lot more relaxed. Here I sit and it’s almost 6AM and I haven’t decided what I’m going to wear to bike and run. It’s drizzling a bit now, but I think that stuff will roll out of here by the time I’m done swimming. I really don’t want to be on the trainer or a treadmill today!

Ugh…I’m drinking the gag juice…er…Ultrafuel. The powder did all go into solution, so that makes it a little easier to swallow. In about 5 minutes I will fall into a nice insulin coma. Once my digestive system gets hold of this stuff, then my entire being knows what must be coming soon…either a really long workout or a race. You have to do something to use this stuff up, because your body wants to pump all this delectable sugar right into your muscles, liver and bloodstream, and without tapping into it within a few hours, you’d be laying down some fat. Oh—much like people who pig out and don’t exercise!

6:20AM I’m full into the insulin coma. I’ve got the shakes, partly from my body working hard to drive the sugar into my system and partly because blood is being drawn away from my skin so I feel a little chilled. Perhaps you’ve also heard of people using insulin to knock someone out so they, ahem, “do less” during sex? There is an episode of Law and Order SVU that I recall this from. Bodybuilders sometimes use unnecessary insulin shots to help beef themselves up, since insulin is very anabolic. You can read all about insulin effects here. So basically, this is why I use Ultrafuel—it forces my body to load up my muscles and liver in a hurry. It’s something that my very first coach, Mike Arenberg, got me to use regularly on heavy (2.5+ hours) training days and before races. Now I typically don’t use it unless my workout or race is 3+ hours, which means that for today’s NothingMan, I really don’t need it, except that I’m likely to start running a caloric deficit if I don’t, and I need to be fully stocked for tomorrow’s half Ironman.

OK, time to put my swimsuit on and head to the Y. Looks like the rain is outta here!

OK it’s 6:15PM and I’m writing about the day. All I can say is CRAZY FUCKING DAY!!!

I was going to wear the pink whore suit to swim in, but when I put it on today I didn’t like how it looked, probably because I was all carbed up and a little puffy. That’s what happens when you are stuffing yourself with carbs the day before and the morning of a race, but it’s a good thing. So I decided on a different swimsuit that used to be impossibly tight on me 2 years ago, but last summer I started fitting in it pretty well, and now, well, it is not at all tight. I’m a lean, mean fighting machine!

I headed to the Y and got the front desk woman, Carol, to take a picture of me upon entry, and then I headed into the locker room, where I conned someone else to take a few pictures of me in my suit.

A woman I know, Shawan, was swimming and asked me what was going on today and I told her, and she wished me luck, and I asked her to signal my start, and she yelled, “GO” at me and I started swimming. The water wasn’t too hot, but it could have been cooler. 1500 yards passed by relatively quickly, and I had a lane mate most of the time. I swam in the gutter lane, next to the wall. Fine by me—I really didn’t care today.

Got out of the pool and asked an innocent bystander to take a picture of me because the guard who had taken pictures for the NothingMan 3 weeks ago was on the phone. The stranger obliged and actually took a good shot, and then I asked the guard to do a vertical one more close up so I didn’t look like a shrinking Crackhead!

I took a fairly quick shower (although I was in no hurry), and put on my biking clothes. I had hoped for little or no rain, and managed to get pictures in the locker room and in the lobby of the Y, and then I headed outside. I ran into Vladko, the Masters’ coach, and he knows I’m (a little) crazy and he asked if I was done for the day. I told him heck no, I just finished swimming and then I was going to bike and run. He (as most people do) rolled his eyes in wonderment, and then he took a nice picture of me outdoors.

I headed home, and I loaded up my bike with bottles and ID and phone and such, and then called my neighbor, Vicky, to ask if she’d take some pictures of me, and she came over and did. Of course she asked what I was doing today and I told her, and I asked if she’d be home in about 1.5 hours so she could take pictures of me before I ran, and she said no. No worries, it was time to ride.

It was a bit cool, but still really great for riding, and I felt glad to be riding outdoors on LGL. I hadn’t decided my route beforehand, but after about 1 mile I, I decided I’d do a reconnaissance ride for 12 miles out and back. I knew this would mean I couldn’t ride very fast due to stoplights and stuff because it’s mostly residential, but that would be OK for today because I have a ½ Ironman to do tomorrow! I got my 12 miles out and turned around and really needed to pee, but it started raining (which didn’t help), so I just decided to pick up the pace for awhile until I got to this park that had a real restroom that I could use.

It was so nice to get inside and a little dry, but I had no choice but to keep riding. As I headed out, of course the rain picked up and my feet were soaked and I was a bit chilled. Oh well, rain happens!

About 7 miles from home, some man in a car on a quiet road almost swerved right into me for no good reason, and I cussed a blue streak at him. Actually there were about 5 drivers during the ride that received my wrath. Example: “Stupid motherfucker what the fuck are you doing I have the right of way.” At least there were more people that were good to me than assholes.

When I was almost home, I knew I’d be at like 24 miles, so now I’m thinking should I loop around to get the .8 to make 40K or not? It was still raining, but I was already soaked, and I am Crackhead, so of course, I rode around a few blocks, even deliberately including a good hill climb, to get to 25 miles.

I really wanted to run outside, and the rain got spotty about 2 miles from home, so I held out hope for a nice outdoor run. But it would need to warm up a bit, because I got soaked through and through, and you know me, I have very little body fat, and I could see myself getting hypothermic. When I got home, I was just so glad to be inside and I noticed my furnace was running. I changed into my running clothes, and the sun started to come out, but just as I headed out the door, it started raining again, so I decided, fuck it, I’ll just go run on the treadmill, because I’m sick of the rain.

So back to the Y I go, and now Vladko is at the front desk and he takes a picture of me and I put my crap in a locker and head downstairs to snag a treadmill. On the way in, I asked Marty (one of the personal trainers) to come by in about ½ hour and take some pictures of me, since he had done so for the NothingMan 6 weeks ago.

With all the delays and generally slow riding, I felt great running, so I decided to try and move up to a good pace and just sit there. I have to say that Coke was really helpful at this point, and I suppose also the Infinit with caffeine that I had used on the bike. I just felt pretty good, even though I’d been running on fumes all day.

Marty did come by and snap a few pictures of me running, and then when I finished, a friend of mine, Deb, was recruited to take my finishing photo. We talked (too long—I became cranky and hypoglycemic), and then I headed home to begin the rest of my day.

First things first, I needed to make my Italian sandwich, and OMG is it good! I ate half of it. Then I needed to jot a few notes for this race report, download some pictures, and then it was time to head to the bike shop. I wanted them to shim my left bike shoe, since with no ACL in my left knee, my left leg “feels” shorter, and I think I need the shim.

I drove to the bike shop, taking the remaining 12 cannoli (I ate 4 of them yesterday) with me, and on the box I had written, “Leave the gun—take the cannoli.” (10 pts.) I basically hung out at the bike shop for a couple of hours, chatting with all the guys, and while I was there I found a new pair of sunglasses. I am finding myself wanting smaller lenses and frames and lighter ones since I am so fucking lean now and can’t stand much weight at all on my face. My mechanic, Anthony, gave me some black Nokon beads so I can make a bracelet out of them. I’ve already made a red bracelet out of the excess Nokon cable beads from LGL where they were removed from the rear derailleur cable (because it fucked up the shifting), and I was so excited that Anthony gave me some black ones! He said if any other customer bought those cables he’d save the extra beads for me! They come in blue, gold and actual carbon fiber (cough), too, so I hope I can eventually collect them all!

I drove home and was getting hypoglycemic (no surprise there), so instead of proceeding directly to the grocery store, I stopped at home and chugged ½ bottle of Endurox R4, figuring I needed it anyway. Then I went straight to the grocery store, scored a few samples of wine (aka painkiller), and then came home, put the groceries away, chopped ingredients for dinner, restocked the coffee pot for tomorrow morning, rinsed out today’s bottle aftermath, and now I’m writing and about finished for today. Next, I’ll cook and eat dinner, try and stretch a bit and I may or may not wipe down LGL. It will need to be done before I ride tomorrow.

Pool opens at 7AM tomorrow, so that’s when I’ll start the ½ Ironman. I am going to wear my wetsuit in the pool, no matter what the water temperature, because it will just be the right thing for me to do so I keep by body temperature level.

It is supposed to be partly cloudy and get to 70 tomorrow, so it should be a PERFECT day! Right now, other than general fatigue, my legs feel just fine, and more than anything, I’m looking forward to riding and running outdoors tomorrow!

As I sit here writing, I can’t even believe all the stuff I did today, but it’s tons of fun, and I wouldn’t trade it for anything. I’m stockpiling mental and physical toughness, and that’s one of the things I am all about, so it’s all good.

Day 3 NuclearMan

12:45AM For dinner last night, I ate a fairly big bowl of the pasta with salmon sauce, 3 beers (I needed the painkiller and frankly, the carbs), and then I had a bowl of lemon gelato for dessert. I had also munched on the salmon while I was flaking or chopping it and a few olives. After I finished off the gelato, I was mindlessly eating Gummi Bears while reading a few chapters of a book in bed before passing out. But guess what? I just woke up, you guessed it—HUNGRY. So I just fixed myself half a sandwich of the Volpi salami and one slice of Provolone. That should tide me over until it’s go time again. I’m guessing that including my snack, I probably ate close to 4,000 calories yesterday? I think I only needed maybe 3,500, but then again with all the running around I did who knows? If I’m hungry, I’m hungry, dammit, and I eat. Today promises to be a real calorie burner, though, so even if I overate for Saturday, it won’t matter one iota.

5:15AM Fucking A!!!! I slept well last night! This is the best sleep I’ve had in 4 days. I’m already wired and I haven’t even had any coffee! I picked out my run outfit. I’ll run in Waterfall Glen today, since it is going to be nice. I won’t use the Fuel Belt, but instead (2) 6-oz. Gatorade bottles. I’ll do a double out and back so I have (relatively) cold Coke for both legs. Since I won’t be wearing the Fuel Belt, I’ll get a little bit of a head start on a suntan. I’m going to wear my new shades on the bike, and I’ll get to cleaning off LGL in about 30 minutes here. I’m wearing my custom Crackhead swimsuit under the wetsuit (so there will be wetsuit porn) today. I am just really amped! My legs do not feel bad at all. Now, at Triple T I will feel much worse on Sunday morning than I feel today, but this is training so it’s OK. Sleep is key. I know I did the right thing by eating that sandwich in the wee hours today. I didn’t feel totally famished upon waking. But I am already looking forward to the rest of the focaccia sandwich and more of that great pasta later today!

6:30AM I’m running behind schedule, but I really don’t care. I suppose I expected to wake up much earlier, but that’s OK. I just downed the Ultrafuel, so I need to sit here in my insulin coma for a few minutes before I go outside and spritz off LGL, since she’s a dirty, filthy whore from yesterday. My anticipated start time is now 7:30AM instead of 7:00AM. Oh well, I’ve got all day, don’t I?

6:40AM I get a cup of coffee and head upstairs to take care of business, and I jam one of my new lobster flip-flops into the back of the stair and crash in slow motion. Coffee goes flying all over one wall in the hallway, my Pinarello cap (no worries it’s black), my glasses and my shirt (also no worries it’s from “just” a half Ironman) and the rug. Wait—why the hell am I wearing regular clothes, anyway? I am laughing my ass off. Better to crash in your house than outdoors while on the bike! Better go wash the bike!

I finally got to the Y around 7:30AM, and then of course there were poses to be posed, and pictures to be taken. Carol was at the front desk again, freaking out about her photographic ability, but I assured her she was doing just fine. She must think I’m some sort of weirdo exhibitionist—but if you subscribe to Flickr, you know that most people on there are exactly that. Carol took a nice shot of me in the lobby, and then I headed to the locker room, where I ran into Judy, who I haven’t seen for about 3 months. Back then, I was in major rough shape due to grief over my Dad’s death (November 4, 2007) and stress from being Dominatrix (aka Executor), and she said I looked great, and then it dawned on me how nice she had been to me—there were days back then when I would just cry and cry and she’d listen to me and hug me and when I remembered all this, I thanked her so much and told her how helpful she’d been to me in my time of need. Judy took some great pictures of me in the locker room, and then I needed to get on deck and swim.

I ran into Chad again, and he asked me the address of my blog, and I told him (as I tell everyone else) to just type “crackhead blog” into Google and you’ll find it.

A guy I’ve seen a few times at the pool, Mike (are half of all men on Earth named Mike???), volunteered to take a picture of me on deck, and then I told him what I was doing, and it turns out he’s doing his first ½ Ironman this year, and I let him talk about himself and I encouraged him, and then he said he wanted to watch me swim for a bit! I didn’t think this at all strange (who am I to talk about strange?), and so I asked him if he’d give me the ceremonial “GO” and he did. I never did look up to see how long he was watching me swim, and I didn’t feel self-conscious about it, either.

I felt pretty good swimming, considering where I was at and all for the weekend, except for wanting to puke pretty much the entire time. Since I had woken up relatively late (for me) and had eaten and drunk Ultrafuel so close to when I started, and also since it was the first time wearing my wetsuit this year (and I didn’t pre-soak it in water like I should have), I was feeling like a stuffed sausage. But even in an Ironman race where I’ve done the same pre-race fueling regimen, I typically feel like I want to puke for about ½ the swim, so again, this was not at all unnerving, and I never did puke, although there were a few times I thought about stopping and just vomiting in the well, but that would not have been too cool, would it?

I didn’t kick at all until the last 200 yards and then I tried to kick a little bit. I was shocked when I got out and saw my pace. I hadn’t worked too hard at all, and so it was a great way to start the day. Immediately, I figured that since I was finally eating enough food (I hope) to keep up with my activity levels, and also that I had gotten a good night’s sleep, which must have been why. Even though I wasn’t really tired from RainMan, there should have been some residual fatigue, but I guess that means I’m in pretty good shape, huh?

I got Carol to take a picture of me suited up for biking before I left the Y, and I was really looking forward to the ride. It was, indeed, a gorgeous day, and the forecast had called for partly cloudy, but I didn’t see any clouds.

When I got home, I downloaded the pictures (to save room for the bike), organized crap for my ride, and once again called my neighbor, Vicky, to come and take a few pictures of me and LGL. Before she arrived, I was trying to decide if I should wear a jacket, because it was still a little cool, but I knew I’d warm up quickly enough. And then it dawned on me, I could wear arm warmers. As I’ve said before, sometimes I have amnesia about stuff I own or do until the first time I need it or need to do it in a given training season. So then I went and dug around in my bike travel bag, and I forgot I had bought some Primal Wear arm warmers, and I was so happy to find them and thought they would look great (you be the judge). After all, I feel like I should be representin’ every time I go riding or running outdoors—well, even swimming I guess, since I really don’t need to dress up at all for work, since I work from home.

Pictures taken, it was time to go for a ride. Since I started late, and then I fucked around after swimming, I didn’t get on the road until almost 10:00AM. When I was about 1.5 miles from home, I realized that I never did pump my tires today, but then I figured they must be OK from yesterday and they felt just fine. Some people prefer lower pressure than I do anyway so I thought I’d give it a try. I usually run my clinchers right at 120. I like my rides stiff, baby! I briefly thought about turning around, but then I decided no need to, so I soldiered on.

Normally, when I’m riding to Fermilab (it’s exactly 15 miles from home, by the route I take), I don’t leave later than 7:30AM, because the roads I take to get there are pretty full of traffic for about 7 miles, and I have to say, I’m always a little scared because I get buzzed so much. So today was not good in that department, but one thing that works in my favor is that I’m a girl, and not bad to look at, especially on that hot bike of mine, so I think I earn some favors. After about 7 miles the roads open up and are through mostly office buildings, so not much traffic, and then there’s shoulder. Still, even when I leave home early, I just want to really crank to get through that part of the ride as fast as possible. Today I got lucky, because to start with, I had a tailwind! So even though I had to be extra careful with traffic and all, I was happy as a pig in shit!

Since I had all my bike calories in one bottle, I decided I’d drink from it only every 15 minutes instead of 10, which is what I typically prefer. The first swig always tastes like some sort of medicinal punishment because it’s so concentrated, but I know I need it so down it goes. And then I chase it with water. I’m proud of myself because it’s only my 4th outdoor ride this year and I have got the bottle thing working. On LGL, since the frame is so small, my seat tube bottle sits all the way down in the cage, but the down tube’s bottle leans against the seat tube bottle (look at the pictures to see what I mean). I keep the calories in the down tube bottle, which means that I have to move it a bit in order to yank the seat tube bottle out. Unfortunately, I don’t have video of this, but trust me, it works just fine. Bottle gymnastics are so much easier on a road bike than on a tri bike!

Just 2 miles from home I see my first peloton of riders going who knows where. Well, what can I say, LGL is a work of art (to a biker, anyway), and I am getting the stare down and the head turning in spades. It’s even funnier once they realize it’s a chic on that bike. I wave at everyone who looks friendly, and of course, I pedal harder because you can’t look like a slacker to a peloton!

I proceed onwards, and when I get to the area where the traffic dies down, I am much calmer and happier. And bonus, the section of road that was torn up last fall is all new pavement! I’m seeing more bikers, now in pairs or threes, and we all look so happy because it’s such a nice day.

When I arrive in Fermilab, I just get this nice warm feeling, because it’s like my stomping grounds, where I come and ride usually once or twice a week to do my hard interval workouts. Only today I don’t have to do intervals—just ride a decent pace, take pictures and enjoy myself! I peed near the entry gate. Sometimes I just drop trou right at the stop sign in the picture, because I know the traffic can’t see my ass, but today it was in the shade, so I walked into some grass instead.

I was just so happy to be in there, and right away I see other bikers (roadies and triathletes) that I know must be doing interval work. Surprisingly, most of the roadies are pretty nice and wave, but I have to say some of the triathletes (they were all guys today) are just dicks. I suppose I confused some of them by being on my road bike yet wearing an Ironman top. I don’t normally wear Ironman shit when riding LGL, since I like to ride incognito, because I’d rather be associated with the roadies for some reason. Don’t get me wrong—I love triathletes, but man some triathlete guys are such dicks when they are training on their bikes. Word to you guys—I’m pretty fast for a girl, and I ride as hard as or harder than you most of the time. But you know what the difference between you and me is? I’m totally having fun doing it. This is not a blanket generalization of all male triathletes—I know quite a few who are fun and will ride with me and we have a blast. I know biking is testosterone-fueled, and ask any guy who rides with me how aggro I can get. But I usually have this evil grin on my face, and it’s tough to tell if it’s a smile or what.

There was a small group of roadies riding the opposite direction as me, and I heard one of them say the ubiquitous, “Nice bike” while trying to crane his head as I rode off the other way.

I stopped at the East Gate and asked the guard to take a picture of me. He says, “Using my camera or yours?” I smiled coyly at him and said he could take one for himself if he wanted to. I should have told him I’d strip if he wanted me to, but we were on government property, so maybe that wouldn’t fly J He commented on how skinny I am, and of course, I came back with how I don’t like being called skinny. He apologized and said he meant “in shape,” and I agreed with that sentiment. He asked how far I was riding today, and I was only at maybe 18 miles and had over 40 to go, and I acted like it was no big deal (which it isn’t starting this coming weekend!). I told him I’d be back for one more loop and maybe I’d see him again in 16 miles.

Next, I rode to the West Gate and took a picture of the red sculpture there, I dunno, just to document where the hell I was, and I look at this stuff all the time and figure maybe someone else wants to see it? And then I moved past the next guard station (just rolled through) on to Wilson Hall, where I’d need to pee again and get more water.

When I got to Wilson Hall, I got an awesome shot of the building. I always think of the movie, “Time Machine” (the old version) when I see the building, and I think of Morlocks coming out of it. I was hoping there was a guard on duty inside to take a picture of me and LGL, but there wasn’t, so instead I took a picture of the interior skylight straight up and also the pendulum, which I had never noticed before. Now, I wanted to go up to the pendulum and try and stop it, but upon second thought decided I should keep riding.

Out again and past the buffalo, which unfortunately, weren’t close enough to the road to get me to stop and take a picture, so I proceeded onto the nitrogen and helium tanks next to the accelerator ring, and hoped to hell there would be another person there who’d take a picture of me, but alas, there wasn’t. Still, I had to get a shot of LGL in front of the tanks. I just love reading the signs on the tank, and my Evil Crackhead voice always tries to get me to go up and turn one of the knobs on the tank, but that wouldn’t be the greatest idea.

I had sort of decided that on Loop 2 I wouldn’t stop and take any more pictures, as I was seriously eating into time, but then I got back to the East Gate, there were 2 guys there who looked friendly, so we got to chatting, and they were both really nice, and (small world) it turns out we both know someone else. They both said they had admired LGL and noted that I had been “really moving” when they saw me riding. I tried to get them to finish up my second loop with me, but they declined, thinking they couldn’t keep up with me! I told them that hell no, I wasn’t really riding that fast (in truth I guess I was when I wasn’t slowing down to take pictures), and I could give them the grand tour, since it was their first time in Fermilab. I got the new guard to take pictures of me and them and all of us together, and one of the guys obliged to get an action shot of me on LGL. I had to circle the entrance 3 or 4 times, but we got it done! One of the guys is trying to get his wife into cycling, and we exchanged phone numbers because she might be a perfect fit for the Trek I’m trying to sell, and we agreed to try and hook up for a Fermilab ride next Saturday. Also, one of the guys correctly guessed the cost of LGL. I was duly impressed! So I let them pick her up and gaze upon her hotness. Now, they both had nice bikes, too, and they are training for RAGBRAI. I hope we get to ride together this coming week. It will be fun!

I picked it up now, thinking I wanted to be done and get home, but I did stop at Wilson Hall once more to pee and get more water. I ran into someone I know, Bob, who I know from the Y, and he took a few pictures of me and we talked about our races and stuff. He’s pretty hardcore, and I hate to say it, but he wasn’t smiling all that much. What is it with some people? To me, any day I can ride my bike on a beautiful day is out-fucking-standing, and I am all smiles, all the time. I guess I’m just funny that way.

OK, it’s time to get outta here. While I was in Fermilab, the winds changed direction, so awesome fucking shit I get a tailwind home! And I cranked on that whore of a bike, she deserved it. I didn’t care how hard I pedaled and what that might mean for the run I was going to do. I try and not think that far ahead!

When I got home, since I knew I had to drive a bit to get to Waterfall Glen, I made sure and chugged some Coke right away to try and keep those calories coming. By the time I got there, the parking lot was still jammed with people. It was so nice to see so many people out running, biking, walking and just enjoying a bit of nature on a nice, spring day. I got someone to take the starting picture, and then I was off.

Oh my fucking God, did I feel like shit starting to run. But that’s pretty normal for a ½ Ironman, so too fucking bad, have to keep running. I wasn’t sure if I was going to do 6 and 6 plus a little bit or what, but since I had chugged Coke at the get go, I figured I could last 8 miles on what I had carried with me in the 12-oz. bottle. So I didn’t need to drink until about 2.5 miles in, at which point I still felt like shit, but a bit less so than when I started.

At about 3.5 miles in you get to what I call HELL (and so do other people) because it’s flat and in the open sun without tree cover, and there’s a big pond in there and it’s usually quite humid. Well, we’d had a lot of snow this winter, and it had just rained a lot the day before, so Hell was flooded. I didn’t really want to run through 4 inches of water, and I just had a brain cramp. Luckily, some naked runner (I call guys running without shirts naked runners, and thank you for looking hot!) was up on the railroad tracks and just pointed to his feet and then my brain cramp went away (because I’ve run up there before), so I backtracked a little and got up on the tracks (they’re not in use anymore), and had fun picking my way across the ties. For some reason it was highly amusing to me.

Off the tracks, and now it’s only about .3 miles to the Mile 4 marker, which makes me happy, and I’m starting to feel pretty good now. Not running particularly fast, but hey, I’m on my last leg of the day and the weekend, so what’s not to smile about? It was interesting to catch the faces of others in there as they would see me. Some people had a look of disdain on their face, I guess because I was so scantily clad (hey, not like I was naked) or because of the (fake) tattoos making me look like some sorta hardcore bitch (correct!), but then there were also plenty of people who’d see me with this big shit-faced grin (I was really, really happy to be doing this) who would smile back, give me a thumbs up, a wave or a hello or all three. I guess some people are just really judgmental as far as how you look, but me? I tend to look first at a person’s face to try and note their general disposition. Doesn’t matter how they are dressed. A happy looking face is usually a happy person.

Hitting the Mile 4 marker was sweet. Almost 1/3 done!!!

When I got back to Hell and was through the railroad tracks, I saw some runners approaching, and I told them Hell is flooded, you need to run up on the tracks. I don’t know if they knew what Hell meant, but I suppose they figured it out J

You go downhill to get to Hell, which meant climbing up to get out. That’s OK, I walked up the steep hills. I was having a bit of a rough time since this was the warmest weather I’d run in this year to date, but all things considered, I was just fine with my pace.

Then there’s a bit of a blur for the next 3 miles until I got back to my car to grab my second bottle of Coke. At this point, though, I’m done with 8 miles. The voices in my head are telling me that I can stop, that I’ve done plenty for the weekend, and there’s no shame in stopping at 8 miles. Those were the evil loser voices. Then the Crackhead voice took over, and all she needed to say was, “Harden the fuck up, bitch. You won’t like yourself if you quit now, and besides it’s only another 5-something miles. Can’t call it a ½ Ironman if you don’t make 13.1 miles.” It was a tough call, especially since I had brought ¼ of the amazing focaccia sandwich in my cooler. Real food would be excellent right about now!

But you know what happened—someone pulled into the parking lot about to run, I asked him to take a picture, I asked him how many miles he was running, he asked me, and I told him I was doing a ½ Ironman and had a little over 5 miles to go. His eyes were already bugged out and then I told him what I did Friday and Saturday, to which he said, “Most people would be happy to do just one of those things.” And I suddenly felt awesome, wished him a good (6 miles) run, and thought to myself he would probably finish before me.

I took off, now going clockwise, to run to the Mile 7 marker and back, about 2.65 miles each way. I was feelin’ it, but I also knew I was closing in on the end. When I got to the Mile 7 marker, I was feeling really good, and about 1.5 miles from finish, I came upon this young couple walking that I had seen during my 8-mile section earlier. For some reason (I think it was the caffeine talking), I waved at them and said, “I’m still running!” They both smiled, and it seemed they wanted to talk, and I thought, what the hell, I’ve got time. The girl told me they’d watched me run and (as few people are comfortable enough to say directly to me) she said she noticed what great shape I’m in. I thanked her, and asked them to guess my age. They were WAY off. When I told them the truth, they couldn’t believe it. The guy asked me if there’s hope for him, and I said of course there is, you don’t need to work out as much as I do! They were really sweet people, but I told them I had to finish up and get to eating, so I waved and ran on.

And I ran. I was smelling the smell of being done. There were at least 3 times while I was riding today that I looked skyward and kissed the sky, thinking about Mom and Dad (Mom died in 2006 a month before I did Ironman Brazil), and letting them know I was safe and healthy and able to train well again and feeling generally great. They would want to know that I HTFU’d in style over the last 3 days, and did most of it with a smile on my face. There had been a few times while running that I could feel myself getting choked up, just because, well, it was effort, and effort that demanded I not become emotional on the negative side, and I told myself it was OK if I let go when I finished. But it was a good sign, indeed, that when I crossed that finish line (er…got to the trailhead), I just pumped my fists in the air and slowed to a walk.

I immediately headed to my car and grabbed my camera, the sandwich, and a bottle of water, after pouring a little water on my hands to get the Coke/drool/dust/bike grease off my face. I wanted to eat my sandwich at Waterfall Glen in the sun, sitting on a picnic table at the trailhead, before driving home. I asked another cyclist to take my finishing picture, and then the poor guy rambled on about how he has no cartilage left in one of his knees and his doctor wants him to have his knee replaced, and he wants to do triathlon, and I tried to counsel him into letting go of the running and just be happy to bike and swim! See I know I may very well be in that same boat at some point, and I know how distressing it will be if it comes to pass, and the poor man was not in a good place. But he left, and who should walk up but the nice young couple I had talked to a little bit back!

I asked them to take a picture of me with the remains of the sandwich (not sure why I wanted that, but go figure), and we chatted a bit more, and they told me I was awesome, and all I said was how much I enjoyed doing all this stuff!

Then who should come running in but Gus, a guy who used to swim at my Y and who I had run into at the bike shop this past week. We talked (and I was still talking pretty fast from all the caffeine). He gave me a Clif Bar, which I didn’t need on my drive home. We exchanged info, and we may train together. We also have a number of friends in common (small world again).

When I was about 1 ½ blocks from home, I saw a friend of mine, Al, sitting in his driveway in his overalls drinking a beer. So I pulled into his driveway, after remembering I hadn’t chilled any beer at home, and asked him if he had one for me. Of course he did! So we talked, or maybe I mostly talked, as I was so wired, and the beer tasted great, and I think I need to buy a 12-pack and just leave it at Al’s house so I don’t feel guilty dropping by and asking for a cold one.

When I got home, I realized I was sunburned (idiot—I knew I should have put sunscreen on), but VERY HAPPY! I needed to shower, and with the burn, it was OW OW OW as the water hit me, but still I was happy. I put 2 beers in the freezer and set the timer for 15 minutes which is all it takes to chill them, and tried to decide if I was immediately hungry, and I was, so I finished off that focaccia sandwich, drank a cold one, and just tried to collect myself.

I felt pretty pleased with my effort overall, and now my house is a small disaster area! But in a fun way, know what I mean? There is swim, bike and run gear everywhere. But I’m in no hurry to put it all away—besides, I’ll need to get back at it after a day off!

Cheers for making it this far!

3 comments:

Born To Endure said...

GAWD can you write a story..way to go girl..you are CRACKTACULAR..no one else like you out there!!
Love the 3 bitches too..doggy style is all that and a bag o'chips..:-)

Trevor Oseen said...

Your efforts never cease to amaze me...

Brett said...

As far as exclamation points, how's about .... a fuckload!!!!!

As far as 10 extra points, Peter Clemenza sounds about right.

Congrats on another job well done!