The TriathleteNut

Triathlon. Of course. But the real question is, WHICH BIG ONE? I am trying to convince myself to do the July 30th Tri in Solano Beach and I have yet to sign up for the September 10th Tri in Venice. I think I will definately do the Sept 10th Tri, but is it too soon to do the July one? I’ll have to think about it. I should be improving on performances by now. But I also have realized more time needs to be spent swimming, biking and running. Of course.

So my goals are to do longer runs each time - once my ankle heals. More biking instead of the 10-12 limit I hold myself to. And more drills in the pool which means more time spent in the water!

Instead of swimming, then rushing out to run, I’ll have to do more swimming and skip the run. And instead of running more days, I’ll run longer when I run. And biking, well, biking is biking. I need to just find time to bike and try and do a BRick a week.

Okay, now to my workout.

Finally, a good workout. I need to rewatch my swim DVD all the time. Everytime I watch it, my swim workout is great. One thing I neglected to do was swim as a cool down after my drills. I was a little intimidated with Stephen being in the pool last night but I got some ‘free’ pointers!!! It was awesome.

I’m trying to log more Heart Rate data so that will be included in my logs.

So that is that… I’m going to sign up for the LA Triathlon tomorrow!

Wt. 145 Sleep: 3 Stress: 3 Soreness: 3 Fatigue: 3 Workout: 3 RHR: 72 S/I: 3 Hours slept: 6.50

34m 06s 1000.00 meters 3m 25s /100 meters

1h
Exercise Sets Min reps Max reps Min Wt. Max Wt.
ABS Crunches (FB) 6 50 50
CORE Superman 2 20 20
CHEST Pushups (FB) 2 15 15
TRICEPS Dips 2 5 5
TRICEPS Pulley pushdown 2 15 15 40 40
BICEPS DB Concentration 1 15 15 20 20
BACK Pullups 2 5 8
BACK Lateral pull-downs 2 15 15 70 70

Notes: Ankle still hurts.

I took TWO days off after my Triathlon. I normally go for a swim and do a light workout but have noticed I’ve gotten really weak and sick the week after a Triathlon. It was hard to resist the gym but I did. So today (Wednesday) I went and had a HORRIBLE swim and an okay weight session. I need to come up with a more set weight schedule though. AND… work on my run speed!

11m 46s 300.00 meters 3m 55s /100 meters

30m
Exercise Sets Min reps Max reps Min Wt. Max Wt.
ABS Crunches (FB) 3 50 50
BICEPS DB Concentration 2 12 12 20 20
SHOULDERS Front DB raise 2 15 15 12 12
ABS Hanging knee-raise 1 20 20
TRICEPS Dips 2 5 15

Notes: My ankle is still killing me. Damn swim seems like I’m not going anywhere!

It’s as if I’ve seen it all: suffering in the pool after my first Triathlon, an unexpected half mile run before the swim after the RUN and Bike section in my second triathlon, unexpected claustrophobia, fear and a panic attack in the lake in my third triathlon and in my fourth… DISQUALIFICATION!!!

Whew.

But briefly, here’s how the Triathlon went.

It was hot. Hot at 5:45 AM which is the time I left for San Bernardino. I was sweating as I loaded my minivan. I got there around 6:30 and people were already finding their transition areas and registering. Was it hot in San Bernardino? HELLA HOT!

I asked around about the course and found out that the bike portion was an uphill challenge. About 10%+ grade. And it lasted about 2 miles. Holy shmolly. I should have used my road bike I thought. The run was 90% trail so I’m glad I brought my trail shoes just in case.

Cousin Lana showed up about fifteen minutes before race time and took some pictures.

Here’s one of my butt.

Transition area…

And just minutes before start time…

Okay, on with the race…

THE RUN
I love the start of a race. Everyone cheers and everyone starts to move forward. It’s a group effort but shortly after, people thin out and you find your space as you make your way through the course. And the course… HOT! A 3.1 mile run through the Cal State University San Bernardino campus then out to a trail. It was uphill for the first 1.5 miles. My pace was right on the average and It didn’t take me long to get into the rhythm. But if there was something I was not prepared for and I should over prepare for especially when its hot – BRING MORE WATER! There were two water stations that I was able to grab a cup of water for a sip and pour it over my head, but for the most part, I was holding back from my water bottle even though I was thirsty. I can normally run 15 minutes without a drink but I was nearly wetting my mouth every five or so minutes. Boy was it hot! But I got through it in a decent time. The heat took its toll and I actually walked through transition trying to cool off. Run Time: 28:59

Me… walking through transition.

- Motion Based -

THE BIKE
The bike portion started off bad. I was a little dizzy from the heat. First, normally I kick off my shoes with my heels. For some reason, I reached down and pulled off my right shoe, slipped my bike shoe on and strapped it up. Then, I strapped the left bike shoe and realized I hadn’t taken my left running shoe off! So I reached down and pulled my shoe off and slipped my bike shoe on. Whew. I got my helmet on, which all of a sudden seemed too tight and awkward, and walked my bike down to the Bike Out area. I didn’t snap on right away, I just got on the saddle and pedaled. Lana took a picture of me as I went by… five seconds into my bike I looked down at my shadow and saw something peculiar. My HELMET WAS ON BACKWARDS! That’s why it felt funny. “DAMNIT” I yelled, and stopped the bike fast. A biker asked if I was okay, I said yeah and redid my helmet and continued with the course.

That’s me with my helmet on backwards!

And they weren’t kidding about the climb. When I got to it I looked up and thought, “OH MY GOD, HOW AM I GOING TO DO THIS.” A mile into it I just looked down at the lane lines and pedaled. Every revolution of my crank was tough. I passed SEVERAL people walking the bikes. I was determined NOT TO. I looked up and sighted goals and biked to them. And finally… at about 2 miles per hour and a half mile left to go, I couldn’t get my bike to move. I almost fell over before I snapped out of my pedal and stopped.

I followed the rest of the people and walked.

A quarter mile left I tried to get on my bike but didn’t have enough momentum to get it going. At least I tried. Finally the top. It took about twenty two minutes for me to make it from the bottom to the top. It took five minutes to make it back down.

The rest of the bike portion was normal. And I was cruising, relaxing, and really just enjoying the NINE mile ride. Bike time: 37:36

Me getting toward the finish! And that’s the lady that said she would recognize me but really she didn’t.

- MotionBased -

THE SWIM
I got of my bike and walked my way to the pool. My transition times were pretty good. Better than normal. In this Triathlon I didn’t have to spend a lot of time resting and stretching. I was a little slow doing things, but I was comfortable and ready for the next leg. I got into the pool and swam. I stopped at the wall each time, took some deep breaths and continued. I may have rested a max of 5 seconds at the 75 yards mark. But I made it through the course and crossed the finish line. Swim Time: 3:06.

EASY.

Me with my horrible swim form!

And that was that. Final Time w/Transitions: 1:12:03

Remember I said everything about the bike portion started bad? Well, it ended bad. Lana told me that the girl I passed at the end of the bike ride said that I had cheated – cut the course short. I was like, “WHAT”?!? I wouldn’t do that. Why would I do that? I confronted the person and she explained that ‘someone’ said I had done that and told her to get my race number. She said that it wasn’t me but described the guy as an Asian guy with a blue shirt. Well, that’s me. She then said he didn’t have facial hair – which I have. And she also said she would recognize him for sure. Well, she said it wasn’t me. I held out my Garmin 305 and said I have proof of the 9 miles on the bike. I showed Lana my 9 miles recorded just to justify my ride.

WELL… I decided to check the course and see where I turned. There was a cop car, an officer and a civilian on that street. The cop car kinda blocking the road. It looked like the turnaround point. IT WASN’T!!! It was them who told her to chase me. They were right. I was wrong. I only cycled 6 miles!

But why did my Garmin say I did 9 when I looked at my Bike time? Well, this was in multisport mode. It added the two sports together. Run and Bike. 3 mile run, 6 mile ride. 3+6 = 9.

I felt so sick about it. All that work I did just to do something stupid like that. What a horrible way to end a grueling day.

I emailed the race director and told him about my mistake and justified my Disqualification.

Then I spoke with the Race Director, Bob Vincent, about my mistake and told him I should be DQ’d. Nice guy. He said the ‘times’ were already submitted and unless I won an award not to worry about it. Of course I DID NOT win an award. And my time will reflect 1hr 12min but that is incorrect!

So I OFFICIALLY DQ MYSELF and will add it to my race list as such.

I feel much better.

Here is my very informal letter to the Race Director:

To whom it may concern:

You can do what you see fit. I’ll be okay with a DQ and apologize for shortchanging others by cutting the course short.

This was a great Triathlon. Extremely challenging - especially the bike course. BUT… I made a boo-boo that DQ’s me from the race. More on that later.

3m 06s 100.00 yards 3m 06s /100 yards

35m 56s 6.20 miles 10.35 miles/hr
Min HR: 175
Avg HR: 190
Max HR: 200
- Motion Based Info -

28m 49s 3.10 miles 9m 18s /mile
Min HR: 133
Avg HR: 195
Max HR: 202
- Motion Based Info -

Here are three swimming tips for any aspiring swimmers (www.active.com):

“The swim must be relaxed, allowing you to move through the water with the least expenditure of energy reserves.”

“The swim must be fast enough to get you to the bike leg in a reasonable amount of time, depending on your personal goals for the race.”

“The swim must be controlled, so you keep a feeling of confidence throughout the leg, staying positive leading in to the transition and bike portion of the event.”

Three tips. I didn’t accomplish any of them.

I tried to convince myself that this was just a petty little triathlon with no meaning in my life: So what if I quit? It wouldn’t bother me. It was a stupid little Tri that I wasn’t really prepared for. I was doing everything you do when you want to quit. But there’s a reason why I try to CONVINCE myself to quit. It’s because I really don’t want to.

If I turned back to shore and quit it would haunt me for the rest of my life. Yeah… it would haunt me. No matter how hard I tried to convince myself that I should quit I’m not sure I could ever

I know I wasn’t going to die out on the lake. I was just taking longer than I should due to anxiety and panic attacks. A common thing with beginner Triathletes. The bottom line is dealing with these unexpected (or expected) events. But today - it beat me. The mental anguish I was going through because I was unable to perform like I expected weighed on me. I was supposed get into the water and, despite resting here or there on my back, finish just like I would finish in the gym pool. It was easy. Simple. 400 yards. Piece of cake!

But it wasn’t even a piece of candy.

Quitting sounded really good. But that’s a hard sell for me. I already have two DNS (did not show) on paid events and now a DNF? The two Tris that I ‘did not show’ for weren’t really in my control. A DNF in this event would be a horrible side note to my early Tri-career! There is something I have discovered about myself. I’ve discovered that I find it hard to quit. No matter the torture. Even when I feel I’m at the verge of virtual collapse.

I got back on my stomach and back to the swim path just as the 2nd wave swarmed over me. Talk about adding salt to an open wound. Now there were more bodies to bump into, more bodies to kick, and more bodies to swim past me.

At least now I had something to follow. And I did my best to keep up. It was still like swimming with a blindfold, but I followed the flow and pulled the water under me and swam. I tried to grab a draft from someone. But that didn’t help since they were faster and I couldn’t even keep up.

I was supposed to relax. Just like one of those tips from www.active.com. Ha. Yeah. Relax. I was dealing with a bout of claustrophobia, I was scared and I had a panic attack in the water. I was also kicking my legs like my life depended on it. So this is when I remember to play ‘the name game’.

You start with a name, ‘Glenn’, and you come up with another name that starts with the last letter in that name; that would be ‘N’. I tried to come up with a name after every three strokes or breath. Glenn, Nancy, Yang, Gordon, Nick, Kelly, Young, Greg, George, Ethan, Nigel, Lenny… As I swam it seemed like so many names ended in Y, G, or N. I was struggling with NOT repeating names. But in order to keep up with my stroke cadence if I had to repeat a name I did. I remember using Otto twice, I used Nick more than once, Yang and Young and Yung were repeated, I repeated several names and came up with some unusual ones like: Octavio, Aurora, Kitahara…

The ‘name game’ works. I can’t remember the final turn to the finish. I can’t remember swimming the last fifty or so meters. I can’t remember the last six or so minutes. All I remember was getting on my feet, weak from the unnecessary kicking, and I walked toward the cheering crowd that waited for all the many swimmers.

I struggled out of the water. I pulled down the zipper of my wetsuit and grabbed the swim cap off my head. I pulled my goggles off and scanned the crowd for Donna and the rest of my family. Were they worried? Did they think they missed me coming out of the water? I wanted to give them a thumbs up – tired as I was – I wanted them to see that I did it. My first ‘regular’ tri swim. My first ‘semi’ open water swim. Maybe they are at the transition area. Maybe I just missed them.

The fastest male swimmer finished the swim portion in less than five minutes. Less than five minutes to do 400 yards. Wow. I wasn’t even half way at the five minute mark!

Goals… Goals… Goals… It may seem like the swim took an hour or so for me. It felt like an. My goal was UNDER 10 minutes. 9 minutes tops. My final time was: 13 min 51 sec. That’s all. But yeah, it felt like an eternity. 13 minutes is a long ass time. Doesn’t look like it on paper, but do something for 13 minutes straight. Hang from a pull up bar for 13 minutes and fight for every second. Talk in front of a crowd for 13 minutes. Shoot baskets for 13 minutes straight… You’ll be praying for it to end way before the 13 minute mark.

The first leg of the triathlon took away my legs. I had a bike ride and a run to go and my legs were so tired I knew I was going to use the bike to rest. My plan was to conserve energy on the swim and put it all out on the bike and then take the run as it comes. Even if my legs were jelly after the bike, I already know after a mile or so I’d be able to pick up my run pace. So that was my plan. A very straightforward and positive plan. But that changed and the only positive thing about the triathlon so far was that I was not dead.

I made it.

Now… the Bike…

This is going to be brief. Refer to my training log if I want to check weights and stuff, etc.

My week at LaCosta was awesome! I was able to use the Athletic Club twice where I did weights, a 5K one day and a 1 mile sprint another. Jessica and I swam in the pool almost everyday. It was awesome!

When we got home I worked out on Friday, did a trail run on Saturday (which I’ll write about later).

On Wednesday and Thursday had two training sessions in the pool with Stephen. I learned A LOT!

And that’s it.

Big Tri on Sunday!

There are a few athletic events in my life that can make me wake up in a panic attack - soaked from head to toe. One has to do with my start up the ranks in the World Karate Organization in 1998. The goal: to eventually fight for the championships. I was still fast enough, stronger than I’ve ever been, and if you were in my weight division I’d knock you out. I looked over to the guy I was eventually supposed to fight. He was menacing. I have never been intimated by another fighter in my entire life. Ever. So this fight was a walk in the park. The fight started and I found my range quick. I was relaxed and after a couple of moves I knew I had it. I was already ahead in points when I tried to avoid a punch and fell back. He fell on top of me. As the ref pulled him off me I felt something slam into my face. It was his knee. The ref looked at me frighteningly and called a trainer - my Shihan (Gordon Doversola). My nose was positioned WAY off center. FREAKISHLY OFF CENTER!

It was broken.

Shihan grabbed the lapel of his gi with his fingers and told me to close my eyes. He squeezed my nose with his gi, held my head in place and asked ‘ready’ and before I could say anything he SNAPPED my nose back into place with one powerful, confident (like he’s done it a million times) jerk. I heard bones. I heard myself scream. My opponent was waiting on the mat ready to continue the fight. The ref looked over and Shihan shook his head, ‘no’.

A fraction of a second of protection and I would have had a different story to tell. I would have won that fight. I know I would have. But I was careless and I got nailed and I lost. And it hurts my gut thinking about it.

That fight didn’t stop me from training for another qualifier. But an injured shoulder from a kick, by my ‘future brother in-law’, a few months later did. And that was the end of my fight career. I’m eight years older and I have accepted the fact that there is no going back. No way. But that one fight will haunt me forever.

So here I am, June 10, 2006 - in the water. Nervous as hell. Afraid of the water.

The sound of “ONE… GO!”, followed by cheers and the amazing feeling of starting a race, jumped started my heart. But as soon as the overpowering feeling of individuals moving as one overwhelmed me, it disappeared in a flash… or splash as far as I was concerned.

I took a deep breath and I started my swim.

The splashing was all around me. I was kicked, I was on someone’s hip, and I struggled for balance. Even though I was getting hit by seemingly careless swimmers, when I smacked someone’s foot and kicked someone’s head, I felt like I invaded their space. But they were doing what I was doing… fighting to stay in the game. Fighting to stay alive. Fighting to survive.

I was a warrior before I started Triathlons, I decided to be a warrior again. So in my head I took that mental attitude. Usually it’s me against the bike, me against the run, not me against mob rule. I fought to find my space and I went into battle thinking just that. It’s a battle. And I wasn’t about to back down.

My first landmark was about 25 meters away: one length of the gym swimming pool. Once I turned that it was a straight swim for another 350 or so yards before the turn for the finish line. No problems. All I had to worry about was fatigue, and there was none.

It was tough to keep sight of my landmark, the first buoy, which was the significant sign of turning and heading the long 350 more yards to the finish. I got nine strokes in and checked, another nine and checked, and it felt like I wasn’t gaining any ground. I looked at my landmark, I had swum outside of the crowd and they started to pull away so I cut in a little bumping into others who were trying to stay straight. Being on the outside I had to swing around and head back towards the landmark. It was now more than a 25 meter swim and more like 50.

But I felt good, I wasn’t fatigued, I was going great… Physically my conditioning told me everything would be okay. But I couldn’t breath. And suddenly, it was a mental game. And it was way too soon to play it. All of a sudden it wasn’t my throat that felt tight, it was my whole chest. I felt claustrophobic in my wetsuit. It felt so tight that every time I took a deep breath the tight fit squeezed it right out of my lungs. My feet also felt higher in the water than normal, which is good, but it made me feel unbalanced. I was fighting to keep my head close to the top of the water and felt like everything was forcing the top part of my body and my head to sink into the water and my legs to float. Which is the total opposite of how I swim but the more proper form. I wasn’t prepared for this feeling of claustrophobia. And I panicked.

I hit my target. That was goal one. But goal one was also accompanied by fear like you wouldn’t believe. I sighted a swimmer in front of me waving his arms. I thought he was waving at someone on shore. He didn’t look like he was struggling, but he wasn’t swimming. Just doggy paddling about fifteen feet in front of me.

A lifeguard on a surfboard paddled her way toward him and as I swam by I heard her ask if he was okay… He said ‘no’. She asked if he needed help and he said he just needed to rest. This was only 75 or so meters into the swim! And I was feeling the same way.

I got on my back and tried hard to get air into my lungs and keep it there long enough to relax instead of hyperventilate. I tried everything to relax.

I looked into the sky, I’m not sure if I prayed, and I looked at the shore. I was breathing fast and hard but I wasn’t tired. It was a pure panic attack.

I got on my side and tried to ‘skull’ the water when it just felt like I couldn’t swim anymore. The crowd of swimmers were way out of reach by now. I couldn’t believe how fast they got to where they were. There were just a few strays like me fighting to stay the course. But I just couldn’t stroke, I just couldn’t keep my balance in the water, and I couldn’t complete this 400 yard swim. There was no way. No possible way.

I saw others holding on to a lifeguard’s surfboard. There were like five or six lifeguards watching us in the water. They were awesome.

I looked out to shore, trying to find my family… Even if they were in view, there was no way I could make them out. I was too far.

I looked ahead at another swimmer holding on to the surfboard for dear life. And I dug in and swam, kicking and gasping for air for the security of a surfboard ahead.

The lifeguard asked if I was okay. I muttered, ‘tired’. “You just need a rest?” I nodded as I instinctively made my way to the front of the surfboard. I took a deep breath and screamed in my head, “COME ON! GO! COME ONE! GO!”

I went.

I did everything I learned. Bilateral breathing, good relaxed pulls and recovery. “FUCK IT! COME ON!” I took it as a battle for life. Facing adversity in the face and kicking its ass. I got mad. I was furious. And I sliced my hands into the water with a purpose with every stroke. It takes me about 25 strokes to go 25 meters in the pool. That’s about 8 breaths in 30 or so seconds. But three breaths and 10 meters later I was gasping for air.

I got on my back and kicked trying again to desperately relax and get some air into my lungs. I took a look up and the lifeguard was chasing me fast. What was going on? Did she think I was drowning? I got back on my stomach to show I was okay. I mean, that would be embarrassing if she thought I was drowning. I was panicked, I was out of breath, I was claustrophobic but I WAS NOT DROWNING!

When I got on my stomach I noticed I was WAY off course. That’s why she chased me. I was actually swimming in a bee line to the shore. Holy shit. Talk about embarrassing. I should have faked drowning so I could be saved from this miserable mess. I kinda gave her a laugh and shouted, ‘I’m going the wrong way, huh?” She laughed back.

I turned back to the swim course. But the shore was closer now. And I considered swimming to it. I was really, really, really thinking about quitting. Quitting because of fear. I was feeling so disappointed in myself - as if I quit already. Inside my head it was over. And I was done. The people were watching. They were probably laughing at me as I accidentally swam toward shore. Why not just complete the embarrassment and give up. I wasn’t racing anybody but myself, so what’s the big deal if I quit?

The whole, ‘Never Quit’ idea I try to teach Jake crossed my mind and I thought to myself… screw that idea. There’s a good reason to quit. One is quitting because you just can’t do it anymore and you gave it everything you had. Which I did. I gave it EVERYTHING I had. Everything. But my mind, my body, my training… it just wasn’t good enough to get it done.

The lifeguard was only fifty meters away and I readjusted my sights from the shore and back to him. Fifty meters. In two minutes I’d be there. So I buried my head in the water and kicked hard.

I struggled to grab on to the surfboard and this time really took some time to relax and catch my breath. It seemed over. I was going to quit. I was going to swim to shore.

Then that fight back in 1998 crossed my mind. Not the fight per se, but the regret, the anxiety and the middle of the night panic attacks I continue to have because I was unable to continue. The regret and horror of it all still haunts me today. I am already going to be haunted by the fact that I had to grab a hold of a surfboard because I couldn’t swim a straight 400 yards in a lake. That’s already eating at me as I write this.

I let go and did it all over again. I struggled in the dark water and tried to get back on the course.

I felt deflated. I made quick checks to make sure I wasn’t going the wrong way again. Every single time I turned to swim I’d last 9 strokes and three breaths before gasping for air. It wasn’t torture, it was emotional pain, it was complete and utter frustration and disappointment every time I gasped for air.

There were no lifeguards to swim to from here. If I needed someone they’d have to swim to me as they were spread out helping others or patrolling the swimmers along the way. My off course swim had made me swim an additional fifty or so meters in order to get back on course.

I looked at the finish line and swimmers were already coming out of the water. I wasn’t even half way through and swimmers were running out of the water.

Seven minutes in. That’s all. I knew this because I saw the second wave approaching me. And they started six minutes after me.

All I needed to do was make it to one more marker then swim to the finish.

One more marker - far off in the distance.

Then I looked back at the shore again. It was closer.

(to be continued)

June 10, 2006 - LA TRI EXPRESS #3 - Race Report “The Swim” (1)

I might as well write about it. Although I put it off for a while.

It started Saturday morning on the 10th of June. And if any morning starts off bad it’s a morning where I sleep through my alarm and Donna has to wake me up. That NEVER happens. 5:30 AM and yes, I missed my alarm. I slept through the first one at 5:00 and the 5:30 back up alarm only woke Donna up. She nudged me knowing I had to get up and get ready for my Triathlon. If it wasn’t for her subconscious telling her I needed to get up, my subconscious would have kept me in bed for at least another hour.

Friday night wasn’t as smooth as I would have liked it to be. This is why a Triathlon should be held on a Sunday. How do you get ready for a Saturday Tri? People work on Fridays, they need to wind down, and they really don’t have time to mentally prepare for a Saturday Tri. A Saturday off to do a light workout or relax is ideal. You can spend the day making sure everything on your Tri-checklist is checked off and mentally prepare for a Triathlon. I did get a head start on Friday but it wasn’t enough. My awesome boss let me leave work a little early so I rushed to the gym to get a 400 meter uneventful swim in.

After that easy workout things seemed to be so rushed.

I had to get the kids home, clean the house, get all my gear ready and have a pasta dinner. Spaghetti Factory would have been my preference. We were planning on going to California Pizza Kitchen, but a stint at the Mall led us to Hot Dog on a Stick and some Italian place in the Food Park. I ordered a penne dish and it was awful. Horrible. Gross. Unacceptable as far as a ‘carb-loaded’ dinner goes. But I ate it. And I hated it. By the time we got home it was already late. My feet hurt for some reason, my ankle was sore and my Friday evening wasn’t what it was supposed to be. Restful, peaceful and relaxing.

Finally… sleep. But that was late that night.

So Saturday morning… I rushed into the shower to wake up after my over sleep. Then I ate breakfast.

My pre-race meal wasn’t as nutritious as it normally is. Donna usually prepares a hot bowl of oatmeal for me, I drink a full glass of water and a small Gatorade, and have a granola bar or something. This time all I had was a bowl of cold Apple Jacks cereal, a half of a banana and some coffee.

By 6:15 AM I’m in my mini van and off to San Dimas and the North end of Bonelli Lake.

I was in a haze driving. Here I am, four days later, and I can’t really remember the drive. I can’t remember if it was still dark or if the sun was up. I remember getting to San Dimas and not knowing where to go. It must have been 7:00 AM before I found parking and headed to the registration area.

The park was already packed with vendors, racers, and family/friends of Triathletes. I looked forward to seeing Jake, Donna, Jess and Bella before the start. The lines weren’t long to register, but the lines for the bathroom were the normal 10-20 minute wait. Luckly, this time, I was wearing tri-shorts and a tri-top instead of my normal one piece tri-suit. It is so much easier to go to the bathroom with a two piece race outfit Thanks to www.trisports.com who got my gear to my door on Friday – two business days – for free.

I went to my minivan and got my bike and transition pack together and took the long walk to the transition area. FORTUNATELY, I grabbed the ONE spot on the end of a rack where I like to set up. You get a little bit more space on the end and it’s easier to find your bike when you go through transition. UNFORTUNATELY, the rack was not in the middle of the transition area. It wasn’t in the best place as I had to walk my bike the whole distance of the transition area before my run and after my swim.

I set up my transition area and went through the routine of Transition in my head. I placed my socks inside my bike shoes, I made sure my bike was in the right gear, I placed water bottles in their places and secured my helmet, gloves and running shoes close together. Satisfied with my area I decided to check out the lake. I had an hour plus before countdown. I was in wave one of the Tri Express scheduled for 8:40 AM. It was only 7:30. A long wait meant more apprehension, more fear and uneasy anticipation.

I left a message for Donna on how to get to the lake, packed my non-race essentials into my transition bag, and took a stroll with my iPod. I checked out the starting area, the dark water, and the other racers warming up with runs and swims. I took a few pictures of the very dark lake and what seemed an eternity swim. Only a 400 yards swim. Easy right?

Before I knew it, the race organizer was announcing instructions on the race starts. I had ten minutes to get to the starting line.

I rushed over to my Transition area and grabbed my wetsuit. I smeared Body Glide on my lower legs, neck, under my arms and slipped a grocery bag on my foot. The grocery bag made slipping the wetsuit on extremely easy. A great trick I learned from www.beginnertriathlete.com. I pulled it all they way up, zipped the back, grabbed my goggles and swim cap then started my long walk to the starting line. I hate walking barefoot.

I stood on the beach and surveyed the water. I got bold and decided to swim about 50 meters and it felt great. The water was in the low 60s, but my wetsuit kept me extremely warm. It was hard to see in the water, maybe a foot or so visibility, but the calm water and buoyancy that the wetsuit gave me encouragement. ‘They’ say a wetsuit will make you more buoyant… ‘they’ were right! The feeling of confidence lifted my spirits. I was more ready than ever.

I kept looking out to the crowd for Donna and the gang but they were nowhere to be seen. I stood nervously as the National Anthem was sung and waited for the first wave of the Championship Race to start. They had a 1.5 mile swim. I only had to worry about 400 yards. And that’s what began to happen. Worry.

The orange buoy looked further away than normal. The finish line looked more than 400 yards away. And my wetsuit seemed to be suffocating me around the throat area. Not a good thing.

I looked at the crowd.

No Donna.

I started to panic. I wished I had at least brought Jessica with me so I could tell her that I was nervous. My knees were weak. And my right foot cramped up. Just like that, without doing anything, my foot cramped up.

I stretched it out and stood on some flat wet sand in the water when I couldn’t hold in my emotions anymore. I turned to a lady next to me and blurted out, “I’m nervous.”

I had to tell someone. I couldn’t tell Jessica, or Donna and I wouldn’t want Jake or Bella to worry… but it didn’t matter. They weren’t there. So I had to tell some stranger who I hoped felt the same way I did. But she didn’t. She asked if it was my first time and of course you know the answer. She said the key is to try and swim straight. Try to catch your landmarks when you look up every few strokes or so and continue to swim toward them. She said I should practice swimming with my eyes closed in the pool since there’s no lane lines in the lake or ocean.

Great. All great. Yes - Great advice. I may have read all that before. I knew all that stuff. But getting the advice from someone just minutes before the race made me panic even more.

I couldn’t breath. I pulled my wetsuit zipper down my back a little and took some Zen like breaths trying desperately to relax when the race starter announced, “ONE MINUTE!”

Holy shit. One minute. One minute. One minute. I squatted down to wake my legs up. I stood and tried to shake some life into my legs, knees and arms.

Thirty seconds?

I waded out as far as I could as it was an in the water start. I wanted to pee… But I didn’t.

Ten… Nine…

I blew bubbles in the water, trying to relax, taking more deep breaths, trying desperately to loosen the noose around my neck…

Five… four…

Other Triathletes were starting to crowd me…

Two…

The countdown took forever!

…and one.

I took a deep breath and I started my swim.

(to be continued)

So Wednesday evening, trying desperately to not let yelling kids get to me, I finally went to the gym and took my stress out on a workout.

I was unmotivated, uninspired, unmotivated and uninspired. Yeah, a double. I got into what was a crowded-ass pool with teenagers all over the fuckin’ place. The sign says, no more than 2 per lane. There were 3 WHO WEREN’T SWIMMING in lane one, two in lane two and 3 in lane three (1 who was just crossing over to join her damn friends back in lane one). I sat at the step and was going to raise hell when I said, ‘fuck it’. I got in, TOLD the one person in lane one I was taking half and took off for my 400 meter swim. My authority and confidence made them scoot over and hug the wall. Idiots.

Yeah, they moved over. I was like a submarine powering through the water. Who cares what they think. If you want me to run into you I will.

So halfway down the lane I’m forgetting the crappy day, but I’m thinking ‘take it out on every stroke’. So every stroke counted like a punch on a punching bag. Bang, bang, bang… touch the wall and bang, bang, bang. Touch the wall again and bang… bang… slap… 40 meters and my arms were like rubber. So I relaxed from the bang, bang, bang, practiced bi-lateral breathing to stay more even on every stroke and didn’t take more than a 5 second rest on the wall - if that. It felt good. The best 400 meters I’ve ever done. Not as far as time, but as far as effort and technique. 11 minutes and 15 seconds.

I needed to relax in the Jacuzzi for a few minutes. One lady was complaining about how hot it was and they shouldn’t make it so hot. Get out then, damnit! If you can’t take the heat… I closed my eyes and ignored her. Suddenly it shut off and I felt a sigh of relief from the lady. This is a Jacuzzi. It’s supposed to be hot! So I got up and turned it back on again. Ten minutes of that and I was ready for my run.

Why do some of these treadmills only allow you to run for 30 minutes? Well, this one only allowed me to run for 20 minutes. Which was okay because that’s all I wanted to do. But why only 30? I wanted to fit in as many miles in 20 minutes as I could. I wanted to go fast but not at an incredible pace that I couldn’t walk afterwards. So in 20 minutes I did 2.14 miles on a 1.0 incline. It felt good. But my ankle hurt a little after the run.

150 situps on a fitness ball and some serious stretching later I was out the door to Barnes & Noble.

11m 16s 400.00 meters 2m 49s /100 meters

20m 2.14 miles 9m 21s /mile

Weights 40h
Exercise Sets Min reps Max reps Min Wt. Max Wt.
ABS Crunches (FB) 3 50 50 0 0

Brooks: Adrenaline GTS6
Wear-testers say: “Excellent in terms of support, breathability, and durability.” The Durability part I’m not sure yet. Support and breathability - it has. And I put it to the test on a hot day along the Rose Bowl.

I couldn’t wait to take this pair out for a run. So I did a “BRick” and used these shoes for the Run portion. 3.0 miles of running after a 6 mile ride I needed something comfortable and easy to get into without giving up stability. Not that you would give up stability because of wearing something comfortable, but my UK PT-03 have been quite soft and not as stable. The Adrenaline GTS6 was firm and comfortable and on a hot day like last Sunday, its breathability was welcome. I had to buy an extra ½ size larger than normal and at 8 ½ it was more comfortable than the snug size 8. I was told Brooks runs a little small anyway so I was right to get a ½ size larger. ($90)