What you see is what you give

Over the last couple years I’ve had the privilege to guide visually impaired and blind athletes for various races and training rides/runs.  When I describe this to people they offer a gracious pat on the back followed by stating “I’d never be able to do that, I’m too______.”   Fill in the blank with anything you can think of: slow, inexperienced runner, never guided before….so on and so forth. 

What I’ve come to realize over this time span I’ve been guiding is that it has less to do with my physical abilities and more to do with my ability to give.  I understand that if I’ve never run before that guiding a marathon is something I shouldn’t jump in to, but my point is that with the abilities we already have within us, any one of us can give as a guide.

Early morning December 8^th on a bus covered in snow in sub 30 degree temperatures in California, I overheard a conversation between a first time guide with an experienced visually impaired runner.  The guide looked the part of a runner; trim, fit, long legged – all the features that were irrelevant to the athlete he’d soon be tethered to for 13.1 miles.  As I listened in to their conversation I quickly knew their first run together would go smoothly.  The guide, who seemed a little nervous at first, was asking question after question.  Asking the athlete’s preferences; which side of the athlete to run to, how far ahead or behind he’d prefer he guided, what sort of cues he’d prefer.  As the guide asked more questions I could hear the calmness in the athlete’s voice.  The athlete was becoming more at ease as he learned of the care and concern and attention to detail his guide was giving him with the line of questioning; with the calmness of the athlete came the calmness of the guide.       

In my guiding experience, my conversations with visually impaired/blind athletes and from my conversations with other guides, here is the best list I can come up with for qualities necessary for being a guide:

1.       Be humble and ask questions – there are no stupid questions, you won’t be looked at as ignorant or arrogant if you’re asking questions to learn more about the athlete you wish to help.

2.       Be prepared personally – have your shit together for you, be spot on in your packing to travel, the items you need to run and support yourself through the race.  If you forgot something, identify and take care of it quickly so you’re not creating an emergency.  Imagine if you’re about to travel through the Amazon jungle led by someone you’ve never met only to have them show up and say “I forgot my compass”.  Your panic is their panic.

3.       Be available – make yourself available to the athlete ahead of the race, give them an opportunity to ask you questions so that they may find comfort in being familiar with their guide.

4.       It’s not your race – yes you are out there, yes you do have the opportunity to register for the race and get an official time, but when you’re guiding someone during a race, they come first.  I’m not suggesting putting yourself in any risk or danger, but I do all I can to let the athlete know I’m there for them.  I’m not suggesting that it’s not a team effort, it is, using the distinction of it not being about me helps me mentally prepare, train and be ready to be as attentive as I can be come race day.

5.       Don’t be an interruption - When I run my races it’s always my goal to have chunks of miles that seem to pass by effortlessly.  Somehow I’ve gone from mile 8 to mile 12 and didn’t even notice.  I never know when that’s happening to the athlete I’m with so I always keep that top of mind to not break it up if I can help it.  That’s how I navigate through other runners during the race; plan ahead, make subtle adjustments instead of a big grab or pull.  If any quick or sudden adjustment is needed I try to preface it with a verbal warning.

6.       Pay attention to detail – how much detail depends on the athlete.  Any time I guide someone new I like to find out how much information they want.  I error on too much than too little.  I let the athlete know to tell me to shut up if I’m providing too much feedback. 

This is by no means an exhaustive list of items but I feel a good start.  I can’t reiterate enough how none of the requirements have anything to do with your personal athletic ability.  Just like going to any running race there are slow runners and fast runners; there are slow VI/blind runners and there are fast VI/blind runners and most are in some need of a guide.  It’s not just races, it’s getting prepared to get to the starting line, think of the miles you logged training for your last race, then imagine doing a high percentage of those miles on a ‘dread-mill’ because there were lack of guides to run with.  I encourage you to put yourself out there, reach out to local groups that provide services for the visually impaired community, contact the local schools, perhaps there’s a school for the blind in your area.  Facebook has a great group that has grown to over 425 members called “Running eyes, bringing Guides & Visually Impaired runners/joggers together”. 

While out in California, for the California International Marathon, the event I’ve looked forward to for the two years I’ve gone out to guide is the pre-race dinner on Saturday night.  During the event Richard Hunter, who spends countless hours and time in conjunction with USABA doing fundraising, arranging housing, guides, travel and anything else an athlete needs, got up to speak .  In his brief talk about his bike crash this summer, his recovery and the impact his fellow athletes have had on him he had a great quote “focus on what you can do and not what you can’t.”  That’s my advice to anyone interested in helping others in athletics, if you want to help, there is a way and it has nothing to do with how fast you are.

Put me in coach

Everyone has their reasons for choosing to participant in races; health, competition, personal growth ….. whatever the reason, the fact of the matter is there is a need to get some guidance.  Personally I’ve never gone out and hired a coach, I’ve researched on my own and spent time working a plan that made sense for me.  I’ve spoken to many coaches, seen their training plans but never pulled the trigger on partnering up.  Each coach is unique, there is no coach that’s one size fits all and there certainly isn’t a one size fits all athlete.  Every athlete’s situation and circumstances are different, it’s this difference that should drive we athletes to spend time getting to know potential coaches and interviewing each other before jumping on board with whoever is popular, the cheapest or who most of your friends go with.  I wanted to provide some things to consider if you’re looking in to stepping up your results or looking for guidance hiring someone.

Group vs. coach; in my area where there is a local Ironman race there are an abundance of coaches and groups.  It’s important to distinguish between the two as a starting point of the selection process.  Training groups are just that, groups that use their size and number as a means to “never train alone”.  There are varying levels of groups from the informal group that maintains an email or Facebook list to keep all it’s members up to date with places, times and type of workouts that are occurring.  Often times the groups are organized to help people come and go as they need if they’ve built or using a training plan acquired outside a coach.  There are more organized groups that are normally associated with running/triathlon stores.  All members of the group pay the same price, get the same gear and discounts and also get the same training plan and schedule.  Your life and the other members of the group lives are all structured and laid out for you to follow.  These groups flourish with first timers whether its first time 5k runners or runners looking to step up to longer distances or even triathlons.  The groups have proven success with getting people to the finish line and helping those who may not be organized or motivated to research on their own, but they also bring in a team feeling of being a part of something larger.  Although the training plans are all the same the group organizer recognizes the varying ability of the athletes and have varying ways to handle that so all in the group may train at their preferred pace.  I feel these are ideal for those who are ‘first-timers’ with any race type; triathlon, 5k pick a race type.  The group and getting to know people adds accountability.  The structure helps build the habits of training more and there is normally access to “coaches” within these groups.  The experience and certifications of these group coaches may vary but in general it’s expected they add value by being there and answering questions regarding nutrition, pace or anything else you can think of.  The downside to these groups is in the structure and customization of the work outs.  If the group workouts all take place on Wednesdays and Sundays and one of those days will never work for your schedule, then you may not receive the full benefits of the group.  If these workouts are supported in some manner with hydration and nutrition on the workout routes and you have to miss one or some of the workouts, then there is a benefit that’s been paid for but not used.    Furthermore, if you really want to focus on getting a PR, your only option to do so is to work within the group and it’s structure.  For example, many running groups will have pacers running a specific pace for the training runs, if you’ve done races at an 11 min/mile pace and you want to get faster you’re only choice within the group is to force yourself to hang with a faster group.  This certainly may work but may not make the most sense.

Selecting a coach over a group – if you are someone who needs reassurance or wants to be more confident in a training plan’s ability to carry you to the finish, a coach may be a better option.  With coaching you have an individual that knows you, knows your goals and creates a specific plan custom to you.  There’s ongoing discussion and feedback between coach and athlete to continue to treat the training plan as a living/growing GPS navigation.  Any hiccups or detours and the two of you are right on it to continue to give you peace of mind and confidence you’re on the right track.  If you’re an experienced athlete who’s done races before and wants to focus on knocking out PR’s, a coach will normally suit you better than a group.

Selecting a coach – a coach isn’t a coach isn’t a coach. . .  As we do with buying new running shoes we should do with a coach.  Try it on, walk around a bit, get familiar with the nuances and take them for a test spin before purchasing.  If you’re going to work with a coach, you’re going to have an investment of money so choose wisely.  All coaches will provide a work out plan/schedule for you and that plan should be unique to you, your abilities and goals.  Coaches will have different processes to start whether it’s an interview to learn your finish times and quantity of races or to emphasize an evaluation of your form; gait analysis, stride, swim stroke and spinning technique- this type of coach helps find ways to make you more efficient and maximize your efforts.  All coaches will most likely have different systems in place that may operate like part of the group training mentioned above.  Organized and supported training runs or rides, and group meet ups are common examples.  This of course isn’t the case with a coach that is virtual or remote from afar.  The “virtual” coach is just as accessible as someone in your town, but there is no face-to-face component and will most likely focus on the plan itself.    All coaches will have certifications of some sort or a great deal of experience, they will likely differ slightly in how they put it all together typically based on their background and preferences.  For example some coaches are researching the benefits of high intensity training as it relates to endurance athletes.  These coaches focus on intense short burst weight lifting as a means to maximize the body’s ability to prepare for the beating and punishment of running a marathon.  This type of training may require less overall hours spent, but when there is a workout, the workouts are intended to have you operating at a vigorous level.  Other coaches may balk at the idea that short burst intense workouts make any sense for endurance athletes as they prefer a methodology that focuses on maximizing time running and little to no core or weight room work outs whatsoever.   

If you’re considering a coach or group, the best advice I could give is to ask lots of questions, forget what your friends are doing and talk with different coaches openly and honestly about your goals, your situation, how you best train and stay motivated, how they would describe the athlete that is most likely to flourish with their help, what their core philosophies are that they put in to their teaching, how they differ from other coaches and how they are the same.  If you’re taking the time and spending the money to train for an event that you’re considering hiring someone to help you get there, then do yourself a favor and don’t stop asking questions or make assumptions, the person you choose to hire will be a very important piece in your happiness as you prepare for your goal race.

Fail

…To be unsuccessful in achieving one’s goal.  Succeed… achieve the desired aim or result.

I have completed many races, short and long, but I have never truly enjoyed the success of any of them.  By definition one does not succeed until they reach their desired aim or result.  I never allowed myself the opportunity to succeed because I truly never set a goal.  I found it easier to train how I want, when I want, that way, I never had to commit myself to a simple truth – I could fail or succeed.  I’ve realized this simplicity isn’t so simple.

As a new runner in 2009 I had never done a real running race that wasn’t the 800 meter in high school track.  I decided I could do a half marathon, when committing to running this 13.1 mile race my goal was to finish.  As I began training I realized finishing wasn’t enough for me, I wanted to do better, I felt I could do better.  But I never defined better.  I never said “Kelly, you can run a 2:00 half marathon, so get your ass out there and train to it!”  I finished the race, was happy to have completed it, but it began my long list of finishing races but not really succeeding.

After completing the half I was confident I could do a full.  Having never done a full, again my default “goal” was to finish.  As I trained I began to get confident, believing and feeling I was capable of a doing pretty well, but again, I never defined it to challenge and push myself to meet a goal.  Race day I had a terrible race plan, it was hot, and I finished.  Happy to finish but it didn’t feel like success. 

With each race I completed I had built in excuses on why not to have a goal, or why my finish was a success, but those were the stories I was telling myself.  My second marathon was a few months after my first – goal – be faster than the first marathon.  Huh?  My first race I had a terrible race plan, I didn’t set a true goal to finish and it was hot out resulting in a not so pleasant race experience or time to challenge myself to, but now that was my measure for my next race?  YUP!  I crossed the line in a time faster than the first.

First triathlon, no goal because I hadn’t done one before, same with my first 10k, first half ironman, first ironman and so on and so forth.  I’m not saying the goal of finishing is a bad goal, it’s a great goal for me or anyone.  There have only been 4 races that I have truly committed to that as a great goal but those weren’t my races, they were either guiding an athlete for their race or running with a friend to help them finish a race.  Those were truly my favorite races because my expectation was met.  For my personal races, that’s never happened because I’ve been afraid to commit to a goal and doing whatever it takes to get it.

The day before guiding Ironman Wisconsin last year I signed up for the 2013 race.  Many things changed between that September and this one; training, family life, friends, support, marriage.  I even crashed on a bike ride and managed to break my collar bone 7 weeks before race day.  I didn’t have a goal other than my normal bullshit – be faster than the previous race in which you didn’t set a goal for.  The great thing about setting arbitrary goals is they can be made more specific or modified when you most need it.  A week before race day I made a choice, I set a goal.  My race goal was 12 hours.  12 hours was the time I thought I was able to complete Ironman Texas earlier in May, but never committed to.  I went 13 hours there but thought on a cooler day like I’d get in Wisconsin I could truly do 12.  So there it was, 4 years in to racing and I finally set a goal.  I had every reason to pick an easier goal, to give myself a break, to do what I had always done but I didn’t.

I swam, biked and got 8 miles in to the run then had my first DNF.  Coming off the bike I needed just under a 4 hour marathon to get my twelve.  I ran as far as I could and then I ran some more.  I’d walk the aid stations and get food and water and then run again.  Then there was no more running, no more moving.  At first I crouched, then laid there.  Race over.  Coming off the bike I had 9 hours to finish 26.2 miles on my feet.  I could have started walking, I could have jogged, I could have played it safe, but that wasn’t my goal.  I could have taken a specific goal and changed it on the fly to something attainable, but I committed. 

My greatest athletic success was failing that day. 

Make a Tour

We train to race.  Training is suppose to hurt, push and condition our bodies in order to prepare us for race day.  For a while I had wanted to buck that norm with a long ride.  Last Saturday I had that opportunity, the kids were with their mother, and most of the triathlon community of Madison WI, was in Door County to participate in either the sprint or half iron races.  I had no agenda, no plan or specific route.  My goal was to get up near Devils Lake and make my way home.  According to my iPhone it was 59 miles to Devils Lake from my condo, I didn't look at the route it was showing for that distance but I wanted to get the gist of it as I was looking to do anywhere between 80 - 100 miles. 

I live about 2.5 miles off the Ironman Wisconsin route so I headed that direction towards Verona then proceeded to do the Ironman course backwards to Cross Plains.  "The Loop" as we locals affectionately call it is a rolling course that goes back country to small town.  It's a great double loop course but in reverse offers intriguing challenges as well.  I was on the loop for under 20 miles but had the pleasure of going up one the best downhills of the normal course direction.  A very long slow climb.  Once at the top it was very nice to go down one of the worst climbs of the course.  This was shortly followed by the steepest climb of either direction, on race day at the top of the hill they have it heavily marked with "slow down" because the hill is a straight drop followed by a 90 degree left at the bottom.  Every year more than one person chances the corner with too much speed and spills, in the opposite direction its granny gear and trying not to tip over.

After some more rollers and going down two of the three terrible climbs on the course and I was in Cross Plains.  I stopped at Kwik Trip, gas station, and hit the bathroom.  I wasn't looking for speed or pushing any pace, I wanted to enjoy the ride, the scenery and the towns.  I quickly got back on the bike and headed north.  I was excited to hit some roads I'd never ridden on.  I was pleasantly surprised at the quality of the shoulder from Cross Plains to Dane.  There were a couple rough spots but for the most part the shoulder offered plenty of room where I felt safe from upcoming traffic and a smooth enough surface where I didn't have to flirt with being in the car lane.  It was a quiet stretch, most of the sounds were a car or motorcycle passing, there were also a number of over protective red wing black birds who'd fly around my helmet and caw at me for short stretches at a time.

I arrived outside of Dane and headed north to Lodi and couldn't have been happier. . . this road was as close to smooth glass as any road I've been on.  Really wide shoulder, smooth, some nice rollers, it was cycling heaven and I don't even like cycling that much.  I considered getting to Lodi turning around and going back and forth to Dane all day.  That 6 mile or so stretch was perfect.  I took the head of steam in to Lodi and slid right in to the 25 mph traffic.  In downtown there's a four way stop so I had to back down and get in line.  As I set off from the stop sign I thought of a friend that lived in town that I hadn't seen for a while.  He lives on the edge of town so I swung by.  I rang the doorbell but no one was home.  Off I went continuing north to Merrimac.

This stretch was my least favorite; old road, minimal shoulder that's all busted up, two lanes, hilly and windy.  About the worse situation for riding a bike.  It was still before noon so traffic was light and drivers were courteous giving me plenty of room as they passed.  This was a tough stretch, crappy roads mixed with lots of quick ups and downs made for a good way to get the heart rate up.  Merrimac is famous in Wisconsin for two reasons; it sits on Lake Wisconsin, which isn't a lake at all, its the Wisconsin River at a point that is wide like a lake.  It's a mini-resort area of it's own with lake side rentals, some small hotels and vacation homes.  The other detail that makes Merrimac famous is the ferry.  The highway I had been riding on actually continues across the river, without a bridge.  The Merrimac Ferry crosses Lake Wisconsin through the spring to late fall.  As I arrived at the ferry there was a long line of cars waiting their turn, the advantage of being on the bike was heading straight to the front on the sidewalk and walking my bike on, no waiting needed.  The ferry was a nice break, it's only a 4 or 5 minute ride across but it was good to take my helmet off, rest and enjoy the ride.

Once across I made another bathroom stop and then was going to hit a small bar on the corner for lunch.  I parked the Penguin outside and walked in and noticed a sign that said the ATM was broke, that lead me to assume they didn't take credit cards, I confirmed with the bartender and jumped back on the bike for option 2.  Up the road a couple miles was a gas station.  This particular gas station is more like a truck stop for campers as it's only a few miles from Devils Lake so they keep a nice stock of beer, camping supplies and just about everything else you could need.  I was pleasantly surprised to see they had a crock pot with home made BBQ chicken.  $3 for the BBQ chicken sandwich and a small bag of chips, I added 4 bottles of water and sat outside on the picnic table and enjoyed my $5 lunch.

After lunch I was going to do the last couples miles north to hit Devils Lake but as I was finishing lunch and packing back up a woman asked which way I was riding?  I said maybe Devils Lake or maybe back towards Sauk City.  She mentioned how the MDA Ride where motorcycle riders, mostly Harley Riders, raise money for Muscular Dystrophy were winding around the hills around Devils Lake and I may not want to head that way.  This year there were over 1,000 riders taking part.  I opted for skipping Devils Lake and starting to head towards home via Sauk.

The highway from Merrimac to Sauk City was another nice one.  I had heard this from other riders and it was again nice to have such a big shoulder and quality rode to ride on.  The forecast for the day was suppose to stay relatively cool in the mid to high 70's, but it felt much hotter as the sky was wide open and the sun beat down.  On the ride up I was mostly protected with some cloud cover and trees along the road, but this stretch was much more open and I remembered I hadn't put sunscreen on my shoulders.  Sauk was only about 9 miles out and the time passed quickly.  More rollers, open fields and country spaces.  Passing through Sauk was quite bumpy, the main drag was garbage and it started to be reminded of my saddle sores I've been battling since Ironman Texas.  I won't go in to the details of saddle sores but have offered a link if you're looking to squint in pain.

The road quality continue it's downward spiral from Sauk to Mazomanie (my home town!).
An old road, busted up shoulder and saddle sore made for the most painful 10 mile stretch of the day. . . prior to the crash that is.  I spent most of the next 30-40 minutes out of the aero position as the rough ride was too much for my shoulders and crotch.  Riding upright offered some reprieve from the conditions but I was ready to get off the bike then and there.  This was more or less how the sores have been since Texas.  They'd be pretty good for a couple hours then come on really strong!  This time is spent shifting around to try and find any way to sit that didn't irritate the situation.  Getting off the rough road certainly helped.

Now I had a half mile or ride I wasn't sure about.  I am an alum of Wisconsin Heights High School, in the area the school is mostly known for being located on a drag strip of a conduit from rural south western Wisconsin to Madison.  It's a busy highway and annually there are accidents that occur as students or faculty are entering the school parking lot from either direction.  Last year a young teacher only a year or two out of college lost her life as she was waiting to turn left and cross oncoming traffic when a delivery truck driver wasn't paying attention to go around her in the lane provided, he hit the young woman's car and pushed her in to oncoming traffic.  This was still Saturday morning and not a busy commuting weekday, but it was the part of the day I was most nervous about.  I made it to the school parking lot safely.

From there I exited the back of the parking lot to head towards the back roads that can be used to enter and exit the school.  This took me to Black Earth and then I continued south to Mt. Horeb.  It was another 10 miles stretch much like the previous, beat up road, small shoulder and more saddle sore smashing.  I wanted off the bike now!  I pushed on and finally got to the hill I had been looking forward to - about a mile climb that steadily gets steeper.  I actually looked forward to it since my crotch was on fire and this way I had an excuse not to be down in aero.  Arriving in Mt. Horeb meant something that's been engrained in my life since the first time I'd ever been there. . . Kwik Trip.  Second Kwik Trip of the day nets a quart of chocolate milk.  It was the hottest time of the day that was suppose to be cool.  I sat by my bike and enjoyed the milk.  I sat on concrete and that felt better than my saddle.  After the southwest tour I was less than 10 miles from home and ready to ride it on in and take a nice cold bath.

I was able to find some comfort after a short rest and was ready to get home.  Riding from Mt. Horeb to Verona is another scenic route, not unlike the rest of the day.  I was really appreciative of how lucky I/we cyclist/triathletes are in this area.  Training wise there is everything you could ever want with hills, scenery and local drivers who are willing to share the road with bikes.  As I entered Verona from the West on the same road I exited hours prior, I rolled to a four way stop next to another cyclist.  An older gentlemen who I quickly chatted with and who commented on how up ahead it looked like rain was coming.  We laughed at how good that would feel.  We both took off and said our good bye and wished each other well.  I got up to speed and before I knew it. . . hit a rock and crashed.

Does crashing suck, yes, but it was a great day that I'd never change and wouldn't take back.  As much as I've always ripped on cycling and my displeasure for it, this ride really opened my eyes to the joys of cycling.  I look forward to logging more miles in his same manner.  Going to new places, new roads. . . me, my bike, some water bottles, iPhone, credit card and ID - I can't wait.

We all Fall

I don’t know how many miles I’ve pedaled since training for my first triathlon in 2009, I’ll make a simple guess that it’s between 1,000 and 3,000.  One of the consistent thoughts I’ve had is wondering when I’d crash.  Wondering what the circumstances would be that lead to it, wondering where and how it happens.  It was never a worry, more of a lingering thought that in time, I’d fall.  It’s why I shave my legs; the thought of ripping gauze tape off hairy legs or hair drying in scabs, forget it, shave em.  When I’d think about a potential crash I’d wonder if I’d react quick enough or in a manner to change the outcome from a crash to a great save.

If you’ve crashed this is probably a review of your experience, if you haven’t, I can only say that once it starts there is very little you can do and it’s over before you even think to do anything.  It’s moments that you simply participate in as the details unfold as you and your body are subjected to whatever gravity, momentum and God have put in place. 

I was entering Verona on the Ironman Loop after making a nice sweep of South Central Wisconsin going from Verona, to Cross Plains, Dane, Lodi, Merrimac, Sauk City, Black Earth, Mt. Horeb then back in to Verona.  I took the left in front of Epic on to Cross Country.  There was another biker in front of me wearing neon green.  He stopped at the first stop sign and I rolled up next to him.  We chatted quickly and joked about the heat and what looked like a storm ahead.  We laughed and wished each other a good ride.  Cross Country is a great road to ride, smooth, wide, even a little down grade and over too soon like any smooth road is.  I had noticed while I was at the stop sign how there were some big rocks scattered next to the curb, that seemed odd as this road didn’t have a shoulder, it is curbed on each side and then grass, no rock shoulder at all.  I took note and shoved off from the stop sign.  I was up to speed about half way between that stop sign and the next, I estimate I was doing 20 give or take an mph or 2.  I was tucked down in aero keeping my eyes out over the front tire.  Then a thud; a quick feeling of the front tire wobble without control and before I realized it my hands and elbows had jumped off the aero bars and pads, my head hit the road with another loud thud.  My eyes were closed as I listened to my helmet scrape along.  Quicker than it took to read this, it was done.  I didn’t notice the front wheel wobble as it happened but I quickly remembered the feeling of it quivering which happened right before my back tire went vertical pointing my front tire down.  My weight went down and forward and my clipped in feet pulled the bike along as I landed on my head and shoulder and begun my slide to a stop.  There was a young man coming up behind me in a car who got to see the whole event unfold.  By the time I opened my eyes he had already gotten out of his car and was almost as shaken up as I was.  As I stood up and started to take inventory of my body as he kept asking what I needed, holy $%#@, who he can call, holy %@#$, should he call the cops, holy $#%.  He eventually asked if I was OK to which I replied “I think so, but I’m not sure.”  I took my helmet off and tossed it to the grass, I was walking and moving my legs, there were scrapes and a big chunk missing on my left knee that must have been one of my first points of contact with the road.

Taken at the scene about 5 minutes after the crash

 

My legs were working fine so I moved up to my arms, I started  with my right and it seemed normal, then as I moved the left I noticed some stiffness and some odd noises.  At this time the young man had walked behind me and dropped some more F bombs and other pleasantries as he saw the road rash.  By this time the man I rolled up on at the previous stop sign was there and examining my bike.  He pulled it off the road, took the front tire off and showed me how it was flat.  I said I hit a rock.  We were trying to decide what to do, I was coming down from whatever rush of energy I had from the crash.  I grabbed my phone and did what anyone would do, took pictures. . . .

Another selfie of my wounds, oh yeah some of my fingers drug too

As we debated calling the paramedics a cop started to near us.  There was a family who’s kids were playing on a trampoline across the grass way and I have a feeling they called 911 thinking the young man who stopped to help me actually hit me, that of course wasn’t the case.  Once the cop rolled up he said an ambulance was already on the way.  The cop asked some questions and got my information.  I wasn’t in a lot of pain, still some shock from the fact that I actually crashed, it finally happened.  The young man and the biker took off and I thanked them for stopping and helping.  The ambulance showed up and the paramedics started their field examination.  I called my friend Becky whom I was supposed to hang out with later to see if she could swing by and pick up my bike.  I decided to take the ride to the hospital in the ambulance as I could tell my shoulder wasn’t right.  I cracked my helmet with the fall so the paramedics tossed me on the straight board and neck brace for precautionary reasons.  The cop helped load up my bike in my Becky’s car and off I was to the hospital. 

The hospital was pretty uneventful, the doctor checked me out and got me off the straight board and out of the neck brace.  He looked over my wounds and checked me over.  He suggested an x-ray on my shoulder.  The x-ray showed a fracture on my clavicle near the socked, I still had a good range of motion but discomfort with the movements.  The nurse started to clean my road rash and I suggested cutting off my tri top.  As hard as those are to get on and off I didn’t think there was a chance I’d get my hands above my head and peel it off.  Couple snips and the tri top is retired.  It is the top I wore at Ironman with Rod last September.

 

So there I was being discharged from the emergency room in my tri shorts and a sling.  Becky and I walked to her car and headed back to my place to unload the bike, 3 water bottles, cycling shoes, cracked helmet, driver’s license, credit card and iPhone – everything I had with me for the 85 miles of riding and 15 or so feet of sliding.  What a day.

There was one consistent as I sat on the curb right after crashing, rode in the ambulance, sat in the hospital – I was OK that this happened.  I’ve expected this since I started training.  I’ve accepted that some things are beyond my control and the only way to pursue things like triathlons, marathons and Ironman is to accept that things will happen along the way; don’t know when, don’t know how and may not be able to influence what happens as it happens.  I can’t ride my bike in fear of falling; it’s the price of admission.  Could I have done better looking ahead, yes, could I have ridden slower - I had 2.5 miles to go and could have mailed it in, sure but I didn’t, I rode ahead like many of you do every day or weekend.  Don’t be afraid of the fall, accept that falls happen, you can’t plan to stop the fall but you can plan to get back up after you fall, choose to keep riding, choose to get up.  The fall doesn’t hurt, it’s over before you know, it’s the picking yourself up that’s the test and will be mine.

One quick point as I’m here licking my wounds, I would like to credit some of my positive attitude about this particular fall to a man who recently completed a 50 mile trail race, a 3:15 marathon last December and was well on his way to improving on what I believe is the fastest Ironman finish for a visually impaired/blind athlete (someone correct me if I’m wrong) – Richard Hunter, a man who spends as much time training as he does raising funds to put on the championship marathon race for the blind and visually impaired community in conjunction with USABA.  In early July Richard was on a tandem bike ride when a car pulled out in front of the bike which caused Richard to go airborne and ultimately flying through the windshield of the car.  Here are some of Richard’s own words from his most recent update on his healing:

This past Monday, I had 22 staples and 4 stitches removed and other lacerations are well into the healing process.  Mentally, I’ve had a couple of bad days but most days are tempered by the knowledge that things could have been much worse and that I have had lots of people calling and visiting.  That has helped a lot.  My neck, on the other hand, hurts all of the time.  The C7 fracture will take a while to heal.  I am able to manage the pain with rest and a prescription muscle relaxant and Advil.  I am able to leave my house for short outings such as dinner out, coffee with a friend or watching Lindsey’s performance.  Heidi has been amazing.  I’m sure things will get very quiet as time goes on.  I miss my training and the friends who help me do what I do.  The reality is that sports is my freedom, friends and rehabilitation for my vision loss.  I thank God for my life and have no ill will in my heart.  I hope to be a spectator at IM Lake Tahoe since I won’t be able to race.   

Beat Your Heat - Finale

Photo by Bill Baumeyer

As I made the left turn to start the second lap along the water way, I was met with the biggest crowds of the day.  The walk way was filled with people cheering and screaming.  Kids running around, people eating and drinking at the shops and restaurants that lined the course.  It was easy to pick up the pace here and smile as the fans lifted my spirits and made me forget, briefly, how hot it was.  This was a section of the run course that closed the loop for the first lap.  There was a group of women dressed like cheerleaders that lined each side of the side walk and as you entered their cheering tunnel the two up front on either side would slap your ass.  This didn’t come as a surprise as I witnessed it happen to the men in front of me.  Two passes by them, two ass slaps!  I don’t remember being behind a female racer when I passed the cheerleaders so I’m not sure if they acknowledged them in the same manner.  Up the path from the cheerleaders were a dedicated group of men and women who were mostly wearing under garments, dancing with music blasting.  They danced all day!  After them the path opened up and the crowd thinned out as I began entering the back-side of the transition area.

True to form I saw David and Brandon and got an update on some of the other racers as they pushed my along to keep racing.  The second lap had a different feel.  Most of the top age groupers and pro’s had already passed me by on my first lap as they headed on to the finish so much of the traffic on the course were moving along with a run walk strategy as I had been doing or were painfully walking.  There weren’t a lot of happy faces on the competitors at this time.  I kept thinking about getting 4-5 more miles to reach that half-way point.  This was the biggest struggle of the race, that first lap had taken a lot out of me.  I kept wondering when my body was going to shut down, I kept waiting for a major malfunction or bodily fail.  It hadn’t happened yet so I kept pushing from aid station to aid station.  I don’t know if being familiar with the course after completing one lap was helpful or hurtful.  The stretch of the run that was mile 2-4 was probably the worst.  You came out of the park where the swim started and had the section of the course that had the least amount of people watching.  There was one longer gradual climb on a blacktopped road that normally wouldn’t be much of anything, but that day in the heat and wide open sun, it was exhausting.  It was during this stretch that I started talking with another competitor whom I ended up walking next to briefly.  It was encouraging as he had no issues or concerns with power walking, his goal was to finish and he knew he was going to, we were both on our second laps.  We both commented on  how that stretch was the worst, we both hated it, even though we hadn’t even finished being on it a second time.  We weren’t looking forward to doing that stretch a third time but happily sighed when we reached the top as it wasn’t just any top of an incline it was shaded!

I had slowed down about 3 minutes for the first stretch of 3.8 miles on the second lap compared to the first.  Perhaps I should have made myself puke the second time around.  That section ended up being my slowest of any all day.  After crossing the half-way point my confidence built.  The shadows were getting longer and even though it was still very hot, the direct sunlight was going away.  I felt I was able to maintain longer stretches of running and the time outside the shade was getting more comfortable.  I could tell it was beginning to cool some as my sweat actually began to feel as if it was cooling me.  It was this pass through the water way section of the run that was the most jumping.  The crowds were their largest of the day in any one area.  It was at this time that I watched a fellow competitor at an aid station grab a big handful of Vaseline and apply it liberally in his shorts.  Heat, tired, whatever the reason I hadn’t considered that up to that point.  I grabbed a popsicle stick that was fully loaded and pinched off as much as I could between my fingers and started digging.  At first it was more like dumping bacon grease on a fire than anything, but the added slip ended up being a positive in the end. 

I was approaching one section of the run course that was another short down and back.  On the first lap as I was headed out I passed a member of Team RWB that I had met on Thursday at lunch, Drew, who was competing in his 4^th Ironman.  Drew and I chatted off and on from Thursday to Saturday.  He came over and hung out most of the afternoon Friday at the homestay as we grilled out and relaxed the previous day.  When Drew and I first passed each other going opposite directions on the down and back, I yelled out and I don’t think he quite caught who I was.  This second lap we met at the same spot, we recognized the other ahead of time and caught a high five as we crossed paths.  We repeated this on the third and final lap as well.  He was less than a quarter mile in front of me.  It was another huge pick me up on that second lap.  After hitting the turnaround of the down and back it was a gentle down slope that was mostly covered by some construction scaffolding.  At the end of the scaffolding was the cone to turn right and become an Ironman, or turn left for another 8 miles.  I went left.

I was floating at this time running through the crowds again, I had one lap from that spot, I just saw Drew and I was hitting the large crowds.  I could tell now that the sun was going down, I felt better about running in the sun and tried to keep a nice steady pace to avoid any more walking.  Before I got back to the transition area I looked across the water and saw Rachel and her guide Caroline.  I yelled out and we all exchanged some laughter from opposite sides of the water.  I was also met by Matt Miller, founder of Cdifferent as he tried to snap a quick picture of me.  He was having issues with his phone while on his bike so I stopped and let him get ready, then posed for him.  Got a high five and took off. 

Photo by Matt Miller, CDifferent

I truly don’t remember much of the final lap.  It was the first time I looked at my watch to see how long I’d been out there racing that day; 12 hours, it was 7 o’clock.  I had mixed emotions about seeing that time.  I didn’t have a goal time to finish in but 12 hours was where I thought I may end up.  I wasn’t disappointed, wasn’t mad, I actually took solace in knowing about where I’d finish giving the changes I worked through and how I made my training my own with a different attitude, better prioritization and confidence that I could finish my own way.

As I entered the water way area for the last time I still saw all the same faces that had been out there all day.  I know I wasn’t running that fast so it was pretty amazing that these people were still there.  There was one group that had set up a large tent and had a big stack of hamburgers sitting out.  As I passed I said “that looks really good!”  A woman replied “you can have one on your last lap.”  I said “it is my last lap!”  She yelled, as I had passed by already, to come get one.  After eating GU, Gatorade Perform, Perpeteum, water and not much of anything else for 12.5 hours, I was ready for something new.  She handed me a burger, I thanked her and kept running.  It was probably the driest burger I had ever had, but it was incredible!  My mouth was so dry it was hard to eat; with the huge bite I took it was about 5 minutes of chewing before finally swallowing.  I ended up ditching the burger after that first bite as it was just too much effort for that late in the race. 

The worst part of the final lap were the looks of defeat.  I was coming through with only a few miles left to finish and overheard others talking about only being on their first lap.  Some were sitting on benches, some had it painted all over their faces in frustration and agony.  It was hard, I felt selfish for being so excited I had so little between where I was and the finish line, and here were others that looked so beat.  If they were still out there then they had a chance to finish.  They hadn’t been pulled from the course yet so they had a choice to make, keep pushing and don’t stop until someone makes you or you finish.  It wasn’t my place at that time to remind them, so I kept on running.  I had very little interest in the last two water stations, I wanted to be done, it was a very real feeling that after this long race I’d be able to stop moving and not worry about the clock.  I entered the last down and back and true to form, saw Drew, I encouraged him to push it on in as he had less than ¼ mile.  I made the turn around, crossed the final timing mat on the run course and pushed.  I ended up side by side with a woman coming to the finish as well.  We exchanged some congratulations and then I said “push on ahead, I’m going to back off for a second. . “  Then I thought to myself. . . “what the hell are you talking about. . . back off?!!”  I picked it back up as I approached the fork in the road cone one last time.  Right turn! 

There was one last hill to go up as I neared the finish area.  At the top of the hill I could see all the lights and the big screen TV that showed a feed of the finish line.  There was about a block that appeared to be dark because of the brightness of the finish area that was up ahead.  The fences started along both sides of the road that were draped with Ironman and all the major sponsors.  The cheers were getting louder and I could start to make out faces of the people lining the fences on either side.  The finish chute then took a 90 degree right as you enter the crowd, music and The Voice.  As I turned the road was split in two, I went down the chute away from the finish high fiving people along the right, then at the bottom of a small hill turned 180 degrees heading up the road to the finish.  I put out everything I had left, as I got within steps of finishing I did what I can only describe as a sort-of-high-step-arms-flailing-kind-of-dance.  I thought the crowd cheered louder after my celebration, but that was probably me.  I crossed the line, thought I heard my name called as an Ironman, but couldn’t quite tell.  I was met by a friendly volunteer who handed me a small bottle of water and asked how I was.  I said I felt good, opened the bottle and did one of the things I had trained myself to do all day, dump the water on my head. 

Next thing I knew I had a shirt, a hat and a medal.  I got my picture taken in front of the Ironman back drop and started walking to the finishers’ area.  Within a few steps from getting my picture taken I saw Drew.  We walked up and exchanged a hug.  It felt good to finish and have him there, a coincidence I was happy to participate in. 

0 – 3.8 miles:  11:51/mi

3.8 - 7.8 mile: 12:46/mi

7.8 – 8.9 mile: 11:14/mi

8.9 – 12.7 mile: 13.03/mi

12.7 – 16.7 mile: 11:59/mi

16.7 – 17.8 mile: 10:16/mi

17.8 – 21.6 mile: 11:54/mi

21.6 – 25.6 mile: 11:24/mi

25.6 – 26.2 mile: 11:31/mi

Total Run Time: 5:15:11, 12:01/mi pace

Total Finish Time: 13:03:46

Beat Your Heat - The Run

Photo taken by Bill Baumeyer

 

As I entered the transition tent it appeared to be more like a scene from MASH than an over-sized changing room.  Half the competitors sitting down were packed with ice.  Big ice bags on their necks and heads, many slouched over looking like they’d been there for a while.  I grabbed the first seat that was open and a couple glasses of water from a volunteer and started pulling out my socks (pink), shoes and hat.  As I was changing I started talking to the guy next to me who was wearing about 5 different bags of ice in his tri top, in his shorts and around his head and neck.  I tried to encourage him by telling him he had tons of time, just get out there and start walking.  He just kept shaking his head and saying he couldn’t.  I repeated my message a couple more time until I was all changed.

I came out of the tent and stepped in the direct sun for the first time since getting off the bike, it was hot.  I stopped by the volunteers lubing athletes up with sunscreen.  I turned my back to the woman and said “put it everywhere you see skin”.  She got my shoulders and neck and then to my surprised reached around front and got my exposed belly.  Protected from the sun and partially felt up, I started running.

The run started on the edge of the channel that was part of the swim.  It was lined with spectators and again I saw David and Brandon and stopped for a quick chat.  I headed out on the path and was quickly confused; I approached a construction type sign that marked the end of the nice paved path we were on.  We were directed around it on to a beat up grassy path.  As I started running on the grass I noticed runners coming at me and taking a hard left up what looked like a grass embankment.  I followed those in front of me and just kept moving.  About 100 yards up the grass I made a 180 degree turn back and eventually up the grassy embankment.  I remember looking at the run route and elevation chart and there was one hill on the run, that grassy stretch was it.  At the top of the “hill” I started weaving through some parking lots and I reached Mile 1.  I started to have some dry heaving and before I knew it, I was puking.  Pure water, 3 to 5 good pushes worth.  The competitors that passed were nice enough to ask if I was doing alright, I could only answer, between puking, “I’m not sure yet!”  The puking stopped and I started walking and picked it back up to running. 

It didn’t take long for the sweat to start pouring.  In the sun it could only be described as hot as hell.  The run course did offer some reprieve as it joined up with one of the many paths that were tucked away from the road in the trees.  There was a good mix with stretches of pure sunlight and shade.  I adopted the plan of power walking in the sun and running in the shade.  It served me well as running in the sun quickly made me feel like lying down.  The shaded path was filled with a number of well-placed humor.  When I’d come out of the sun and feel like crap it was a nice pick-me-up to see a sign of the super hero Iron Man with some competitor’s face phtoshopped in.   Another favorite coming out of one of the wooded path stretch was “If this was easy, it’d be your mom!”  Apologies to all the mother’s, but it was funny.  Of course the sign that stood out the most "Puke and Rally!"

Most of the run was through the residential part of town.  I remember one older woman sitting in her lawn chair all three laps who thanked me for coming each time I passed, it was very nice but I wasn’t sure how to respond.  Residence set up some water hoses, sprinklers and there were plenty of kids with squirt guns happy to shoot me.  What I thought about during this first lap of the run is how it no longer felt like a race.  Athletes are pretty spaced out and your pace is more or less determined already so if someone flies by there isn’t much there to pick it up and push them back.  It really became a personal fight at that time.  It was a mix of joy knowing that I’d finish if I stayed smart, wondering what my actual finish time would be, wanting to run faster and thinking about what it will feel like to finish and be done. 

I was debating how I felt about the three loop run, and then at about mile 5 there was a sign that said “Mile 13, now your race starts.”  It was refreshing to know that one loop from there, I’d be half way.  Each aid station I went through I executed a similar routine as I did on the bike: drink a little Ironman Perform, some ice water, and then start dumping everything cold on my head.  I kept moving through the stations but took my time to get fluids and try and stay cool.  Something I had packed in my run transition bag was a small towel from the Door County Half Iron the previous year.  That was a hot day in July and they had ice cold towels; I grabbed one early on in the run that day and tucked it around my neck and in to my tri top.  The towel worked just like soaking my arm sleeves on the bike, it retained some water and helped keep my head cool.  Each aid station had a kiddie pool of ice water that was loaded with sponges, I’d drop my towel in and wrap my neck.   

Those first 5 – 6 miles were the worst of the run, which provided the biggest smack in the face reality of how hot it was.  As it often goes in races when you start to get down maybe reaching your lowest point and then you start seeing some familiar faces.  I arrived in Houston on Wednesday and was invited to come to a meet and great at a local bike shop, Shama Cycles.  The owner Philip has worked with Brandon, whom I mentioned from my swim, on helping him get a good fit on his tandem.  Philip was nice enough to open up his shop to CDifferent and allow a number of guides who have raced and trained with Brandon as well as other local athletes to meet another visually impaired athlete who was competing in Ironman Texas, Rachel Weeks.  Rachel has Usher Syndrome, which means she was competing to become the first visually and hearing impaired athlete to ever complete an Ironman.  At Shama, Rachel and I had the opportunity to talk about our experiences racing and guiding as well as meet and talk to a great group of athletes, some of whom were also competing and volunteering at IMTX.  While going to and from the Shama meet and great David and Brandon gave us a quick tour of some of the places that they had trained.  Brandon was discussing his stardom in the Houston area referring to the many interviews he’s done and the people he’s talked to.  His stardom was only confirmed as I ran; I wore my CDifferent tri-kit which across my shoulders on the back says “Blind Athlete Support”, athletes like Brandon, Rod and Rachel have tops that say “Blind Athlete”.  There were three things I heard over and over while running:  1 – “where’s your blind athlete?”  To which I would respond “Not this race unfortunately”.  As I got asked this more and more often I began responding “I had him at the swim. . . “  2- “Go CDifferent!” and 3 – “Where’s Brandon?”, to which I would respond “he’s got CapTex next week” referring to the Capital of Texas Triathlon which is a USA Paratriathlon Champsionship Race. 

Sam Lopez (doing IMTX next year) and I, photo by Ignacio Marquez (multi IM finisher) - met both at Shama

Although the faces that recognized me were new and I didn’t remember all their names right away, having them cheer me on at that point in the run was great.  As I looped back in by the channel, on the opposite side as the run start, the crowd was denser and my excitement was jumping again.  The walk-way was packed on each side with just a narrow enough gap between the spectators to run side-by-side with another competitor.  There was one fan holding a big sign that only allowed you to see his bare legs and arms, the sign said “If you don’t smile, I’m dropping my sign”, I gave him the biggest dumb fake smile I could, then I realized he was standing next to an Ironman photographer:

 

The best part about this section of the run: the crowd, the worst part, hearing Mike Reilly welcome finishers to the end of the race.  There’s a literal fork in the run course, turn right – run ¼ mile and YOU ARE AN IRONMAN!!, turn left – run 17 more miles.

Beat Your Heat - The Bike

Flying Penguin

When I loaded my bike before the race my plan was to fill my speed-fill bottle with a mix of Gatorade and water, carry another bottle on my cages behind the saddle with the same mix and have a third bottle with my heavy goop mix of Perpeteum in the cage down by the crank.  After dumping my bike pulling it from the rack my rear bottle fell out, I remembered that there were stations every 10 miles on the bike loop, so I decided to ditch the bottle behind me and stick with the one speed-fill and my Perpetuem. 

The start to the bike was two lanes of smooth sailing.  There were a number of turns from street to street as the course led out of town.  I sat up on the horns for most of the weaving out of town before dropping down in the aero once we reached the first section of highway.  I was comfortable and settled in pretty well.  Prior to race day I had spent some time comparing the elevation chart for IMWI to IMTX.  The two really had very little in common other than the distance.  IMTX offered a relatively flat course with a number of longer rollers, nothing that looked like a true climb, but a steady stream of ups and downs for most of the ride. 
  

As I was leaving town on the highway and got my first taste of some of the smaller rollers I found myself exchanging position back and forth with a competitor named Ricky.  He had his race belt and number spun backwards so as we flip and flopped I just started talking to him by name.  I said “we’ll figure this out sometime” simply referring to the fact that we exchanged spots at every up and then subsequent downhill.  He was wearing a tri kit from OutRival Racing, who are the official coach and training group of IMTX.  We began chatting as I solicited some advice from him regarding the bike course as I assumed he’d been there many times.  He said the rollers would continue throughout, once we turned to head back we’d be right in to the wind and to try and save some for the last 20 or 30 miles because it was another fast section of the course.  In our chatter Ricky mentioned how he forgot to load his electrolyte pills, so I offered him some of my salt tabs.  I handed him my bottle, he grabbed some and said that was plenty to get him to his special needs bag.  I figured a little good race karma couldn’t hurt.  Ricky and I rode together for the first 20 miles of the race, our back and forth never really stopped.

The first 30 miles went by and was a breeze.  My goal was to just spin free, not push too hard and be smart on the hills.  When I’d get to one of the long gradual inclines I’d stay in the aero until I had shifted down to the lowest gear on the rear cassette.  At that time I’d get up on the horns and do my normal hill routine, pulling up on the crank, the rest of the way up while staying in the big ring.  I was able to stick with this strategy the entire ride.  It was around mile 30 that my curiosity really went wild . . . race morning I tipped the scale right at about 140, probably one of the lighter guys out there.  If I think of how gravity works, my advantage would be had on the longer uphill climbs and then on the downs the heavier riders would fly on by.  Somehow the exact opposite was happening.  I was getting passed going up the hill by riders in the aero cranking away then at the crest of the hill the riders would sit up and coast and roll for a while before pedaling back at it.  On the way up I’d get to my low gear, hit the top and start slamming through the gears in the aero as I passed rider after rider.  Regardless of what they were doing, I felt good with my strategy.  I remembered my first ride on the IMWI loop when I rode it with a multi-Ironman veteran; he said “If you’re doing something different than everyone else, you’re probably doing something right.” 

Up to this point I was regularly taking sips of my Perpetuem and dropping a salt tab every so often while washing both down with my Gatorade/water mix.  During the swim my Ironman Global Trainer lost it’s GPS signal and it never managed to hook back up the rest of the day.  So for the ride I relied on feel.  I had a couple mantras that I visited the entire ride: Let the penguin fly, spin free and princesses never give up.  To me, letting the penguin fly was my reminder to ride and feel the bike (I call my bike the flying penguin by the way), if I was picking up speed and spinning too fast, shift and keep maximizing the push I was feeling from the bike.  It also reminded me to shift gears, be picky about what gear I was in and not work the legs too hard.  Spinning free is really an extension of letting the penguin fly.  A few weeks before IMTX my son and daughter (6 and 4) had their triathlon (swim bike run as they call it).  At their age they allow for parents to be out on the course helping them along.  I was following and encouraging Emmie and during the bike portion there were a couple inclines.  On those up hills I heard Emmie saying something I couldn’t quite make out, then as the climb extended and she worked harder she began speaking louder.  “Princesses never give up” is what she said as she powered her way up the hill.  I guess it stuck with me.  It provided me a great reminder, a smile and boost of energy at each hill. 

Princesses never give up!

The IMTX loop was really a road to nowhere-ville.  Riding through the national forest offered some good shade and plenty of trees, but after that it was pretty rural.  By the time I reached the half-way point the trees were more or less nonexistent, the hot air would blow off some of the bare land and most importantly the road quality deteriorated as I pedaled in to major head winds.  I passed the special needs bag area as I hadn’t packed one, I felt good mentally and physically.  At each aid station I would rotate pouring Ironman Perform and water in to my speed-fill.  I slowed quite a bit at each aid station because I had two goals: 1 – get hydration in my speed-fill bottle and 2 – get water and spray it all over my body.  The wind was such during the bike that I never felt like I was sweating but I could tell it was getting hot.  The first couple aid stations I’d just concentrate my water spray on my head, neck and chest.  As I continued through the ride I started making sure I got my arms.  This was where wearing my arm sleeves came in handy; I’d get them soaked and having the water retained in those sleeves helped keep me cool as the wind would blow.  This, obviously, was a very temporary relief but a relief none-the-less. 

As the miles built I became more and more impatient with how long it took to go 10 miles between water stations.  Near each station was the appropriate mile marker of a ten mile increment.  I’m not sure I saw a mile 80 or if I had reached a new level of impatience but by the time mile 90 came I was cranky.  My legs felt good but I knew I had some major chaffing happening down below.  I had a hard time getting comfy on my seat and it became more and more difficult to stay in the aero position.  I spent much of the last 20 miles sitting up.  I was moving along but had certainly fallen off my pace from earlier.  The combination of heat, head wind, chaffing and rough road had maximized my discomfort. 

Photo by Bill Baumeyer

The ride in to town did offer nicer roads, I’m not sure about Ricky’s assessment of the last 30 miles but my opinion was influenced by the fact that miles 95-105 were heavily lined with vehicles stuck in traffic due to the race.  Riding next to heavy exhaust on the shoulder wasn’t my favorite.  As I entered The Woodlands the course winded through neighborhoods where crowds had gathered.  Other than volunteers at the aid stations this was really the first group of spectators I saw since leaving town on the bike almost 6 hours prior.  It was nice to know the ride was coming to an end.  With around 5 or so miles left I had my last sip of Perpetuem, I took a sip and went to put the bottle back in the cage and missed.  A competitor next to me said “eh, you didn’t need that anymore anyway.”  I agreed.  I came in on the last couple roads I went out on, the last block of the bike is lined with fences with Ironman tarps hanging creating a chute.  I dismounted at the line and for the first time since I left that same spot, I wasn’t clipped in.  I had never ridden that long without stopping.  I pushed the penguin in to transition and handed the bike to a volunteer as I shuffled through the bike staging area to get to the walk way where my run bag was sitting.  After grabbing my bag I stopped at a port-o-potty.  I’ll just say about 4 oz and blaze orange – enough said. 

I walked in to the transition tent and was a little shocked at what I saw. . .

Bike Splits:

Mile 0 to 30 pace: 19.95 mph

Mile 30 - 56 pace: 17.88 mph

Mile 56 – 112 pace: 17.36 mph

Total time: 6:11:00

Total pace: 18.11 mph

T2: 7:31

Temperature at bike start: 78.4 degrees

Temperature at bike end:  91 degrees, heat index:  96.6 degrees