Watts Up?

I recently did an interview with the gang at Quarq powermeters talking about the bike portion of Ironman Texas. We cover power data, race strategy, test events, & more. Jump to the interview on the Quarq blog here: http://blog.quarq.com/analysis-of-jordan-rapps-ironman-texas-perfor

Follow up with any questions on Twitter, Facebook, or via comments here or on the Quarq blog. Or, of course, send me a message using the contact form.

Leadman & Ironman: Part 1 - The Race

I've written quite a bit about the Leadman race experience and my enthusiasm about the new race in Bend, OR on September 22, and over the course of the next month, I'll be writing a three part series comparing Leadman and Ironman. In 2011, I followed almost exactly the same schedule only instead of racing Ironman Texas and Wildflower two weeks apart, I did Leadman Epic 250 Las Vegas and Wildflower two weeks apart. With the race in Texas still fresh in my mind and the 250 in Las Vegas indelibly imprinted on it, this first article will be a comparison of the two races. While I'm obviously less familiar with the core aspects of the 250 - as everyone is - having done the one and only (so far) Epic 250,  I'll do my best to try to work through what I see as some of the fundamentals of the racing a 5km/223km/22km race and what I see as unique to the Las Vegas race and, in particular, the Las Vegas race on it's old date in mid-May, which is quite a bit hotter - though it was actually less windy - than the new date at the end of March. 

Weather will almost inevitably always play a major role in the race in Las Vegas, regardless of date, whereas as I think we're all hopeful that it will be less of a factor in Bend in September. But, as with any race, weather can obviously change things dramatically. The second article will focus on training for the two races, something where there is a lot of similarity given the overall duration, and the third and final article will focus on recovery from each since, despite the similarities in terms of duration, the format is quite different. Before I get into the meat of the subject, let me say that I enjoyed my one race at the 250 distance immensely. However, I also - I think obviously - enjoy the 226 (or 140.6 for us Americans) distance a great deal as well. I don't think one is better (or worse) than the other. I think they present distinct and unique challenges while still having enough in common to appeal to a similar crowd. If you like racing Ironman, I think you'll like Leadman. At some fundamental level, you need to be the right kind of crazy; swimming, biking, and running for pretty much the whole day has to sound like "fun" to you. If you're weird enough to think that's a good idea - I know I am - come on board.

Ultimately, when it comes to execution on race day, I think it's best to start with how long you expect to be out there. No matter how you break up nine-plus hours of swimming, biking, and running, your intensity is going to be pretty much the same. Obviously there are a whole host of different metrics - FTP, CP, etc. - but basically, I'd say that you are going at about 75% for an Ironman, and I think it works out to about the same effort level at Leadman. Even though you are using different muscle groups when you change sports, your cardiovascular system is still under load the entire time. And, I think, that's ultimately what limits you. That might change if someone creates a race with an absurdly long run, where you've got a relatively short bike and swim and then something like a 50mile run, but for something that has a reasonable proportion of swim, bike, run, I think this pacing guideline holds.

The Swim

I'm always really nervous before the swim start of any race. And, in speaking with other athletes - except those weirdos who were/are "real swimmers" - I don't seem to be alone in this regard. The one exception to this was the 250 last year. This because the swim itself is actually quite a bit longer at 5km than an Ironman at 3.8km, and the race is really defined largely by the bike and, to a lesser extent, the run. The fields at Leadman are, also, quite a bit smaller (at least for now), which makes the swim start a much more relaxed affair. It's a long swim. A really long swim. But I also found it to be really enjoyable. I was able to just find a rhythm and hold it. Obviously this may change as the pro fields (and age-group fields) grow at these races, but I think that Ironman seems to be about as far as I'd want to go being outside of my comfort zone for any long period of time. I think that you can take a bit more of a laissez faire attitude to the swim in these races, and really swim within yourself. 

I will say that if you feel that you are just barely prepared for a 3.8km swim, then 5km is going to seem like an eternity. More on that when I talk about training. But if you struggle with the swim portion of an Ironman from a fitness standpoint, that's something to address before tackling a 250. However, if you struggle with the swim from the perspective of the crowds and the washing machine at the start, I think Leadman will offer a welcome change. The swim is the start of a long day. And while the advantage of a draft in the swim is massive, I think that the added distance on the swim means you have to be more careful about pushing the envelope to stay on someone's feet. Of course, if you can find someone - or a group - to work well with, that's going to make the swim a lot more enjoyable. If the water's warm but still wetsuit legal, I don't think it's a bad idea to "lose" your cap to keep from overheating during your long stretch in the water - as I did in Las Vegas - but of course, I didn't actually suggest that.

One other thing to consider is that you'll be without nutrition or hydration for 20-30 (or more, depending on your speed) minutes than in an Ironman. That can be a big deal. This is a good place to segue into discussion of the bike, because that means you want to make sure you take in some calories right away on the bike or even in T2. But it's also important because I think this race, perhaps even more than an Ironman, highlights the importance of a good breakfast. Figuring out how to eat a good breakfast - and committing to doing so in spite of any nervousness - is of paramount importance with a longer swim. For those folks who are going to push the envelope on the swim cutoff especially, you will have gone a very long time without calories. Making sure you are well fueled before the swim start is going to set you up for success in a big way.

The Bike

The first thing you need to do when you get on your bike is eat. Normally, I make sure to eat within 20min or so of getting on my bike during an Ironman, but in a Leadman 250, I've spent that time in the water. So I need to get on the calorie train right away. In any long course event, calorie management is huge. But with T1 and T2 being further apart, both from the start and from each other than in an Ironman, you can't take the same opportunities to "reset" that you might in the shade of a change tent. However, as with any long course race, it's never worth "pushing" through stomach problems. If your gut shuts down, just pull over at an aid station, get off your bike, and recover. Do this early on - take 10-15min to sort yourself - and your day will be a lot better than if you try to push on through. Even if you somehow managed to finish in the same time - which is unlikely; consider that if you walk two (only TWO!) miles, that's your 10-15min rest at the side of the road - you'll probably be a lot happier if you get yourself settled early. Just as with an Ironman, there's a lot of time for things to go wrong, AND there's a lot of time to fix things and turn your day around and make things go right as well. And getting started off on the right track by eating ASAP after swimming is the first step. From there, the bike portion is just like an Ironman, only magnified. Your mistakes with pacing with be magnified. 

Do not underestimate how much further 43km is. Your mistakes in training - again, we'll get to that - will be magnified. If you were barely prepared for 180km, 223km is going to seem endless. But if you are prepared, you're going to enjoy yourself since the bike portion is such a massive percentage of the race - close to 70%. The guideline that it's best to start easy in an Ironman is a concrete law with a bike this long. You will most certainly be ready to get off your bike at the end of the ride - it's just far - but you will enjoy yourself a great deal more if you aren't ready to get off your bike after two or three hours. I'd say it's virtually impossible to ride too easy in the first hour. And, overall, if you want to wait until the halfway point to open it up, I think you'll be well served. The Leadman bike motto is like the real estate agent's motto - "patience, patience, patience." 

Pacewise, I approached it pretty much the same as an Ironman. I figured that I could go slower because it was longer, but I basically took the approach that the run was shorter, so going harder was okay. This ties in to my theory that there's a general way to approach a triathlon of this duration that's correct, and variances in the distances of each leg don't affect pacing too much. So, could I have paced the bike slower and the run faster? Yes, I think so. But would that have netted me a faster overall time? I'm not sure. Keep in mind that I'm not talking about a big variance. I'm saying should I have gone 2-3% easier on the bike. I sort of feel like once you get into something as long as an Ironman, that's sort of all day pace. Or, in my case, 8-10 hour pace. I think if you are honest about the way you approach the Ironman bike, you can approach the Leadman bike the same way. That extra 43km is going to be tough, for sure. It's quite different when you hit 100 miles and realize that you have 39 miles to go instead of 12, but I think that's more of a mental challenge than a physical one. And I think you can offset it by realizing you only have 14 miles to run, not 26. 

Again, I think there's probably room for refinement in pacing here, and if you want to back off your Ironman pace by as much as 5%, I don't think that's a bad thing. But if you want to shoot for your 112mi pace, I think you can have confidence in that approach as well. But remember, it's a long way to T2, so it's imperative that you stick to your nutrition. Nutrition is really the fourth discipline of long course (as opposed to transitions, which are the fourth discipline of short course), and I think this is especially true for Leadman because the first two legs are so long. This was the first race I can remember where I actually fully stopped at aid stations and unclipped to make sure I got the nutrition I needed. You're going to be most of the way done by the time you hit the run, so it's important to fuel yourself well because while 14 miles isn't that far, it's far enough.

The Run

This is the one area where I think I have the most to learn about how to pace these races. This for two reasons. The first is that because the bike ride is so long, it's generally likely that things will be reasonably well sorted out by the end of the bike and that the gaps between athletes - at least at the pro level - will probably be quite large. And the run is not long enough to really allow you to mow someone down unless they absolutely blow to pieces, which is certainly possible in 22km (14mi), but less likely. While this isn't really a concern for age-group athletes, I do think that when pro athletes start to push each other, that can reveal a lot of what is truly possible in a race like this. You look at a race like the Ironwar between Mark Allen and Dave Scott, and I think that showed a lot about just how hard you could race an Ironman. And while I'm thankful to have not been neck-and-neck with another athlete in T2 last year, I expect that might reveal a lot about how you really can run 14miles after a long bike. The Abu Dhabi Triathlon seems like it might have been a good reference, because that certainly comes down to a foot race, but with 2km less on the swim and a 20km shorter bike over much faster terrain, I think it's much less comparable than the numbers might seem to indicate. 

The second reason that I think there's still a lot to learn about pacing the run is that the Bend run course is very different than the Las Vegas run course. The Vegas run course from Boulder Beach to Boulder City is unlike any course I've ever done. It's all uphill. And not just a little bit uphill. It's a big hill. Really big. And did I mention that it's all - 100% uphill. No downhill. None. So that's odd. And I'm very interested to see how the Bend race unfolds on a more "normal" run course. That being said, I'm certainly going to go in with the expectation of pacing it more along the lines of an Ironman run than a half. Pretty much everyone fades in the latter half of an Ironman, but with this run, my goal will be to simply hang on to that faster average pace, knowing that it'll all be over right about the time - or distance - that an Ironman starts to get really hard.

Nutrition

As I mentioned in the bike portion, nutrition is really the fourth discipline of ultra distance racing. And Leadman is no different. While the weather in Las Vegas last May obviously highlighted that fact, that's always going to be the case in races this long. I think the nutritional approach is basically the same as for an Ironman. But I think that Leadman exposes problems in a more immediate way than in an Ironman. With Ironman, I think pacing problems on the bike usually manifest themselves in walking on the marathon, especially in the latter half. And while you might look at the race and say, "there is no latter half," which is true, I think pacing problems can show up at the end of the bike and almost immediately on the run. The 14 mile run - from a pacing perspective - likely has more in common with the last - rather than first - 14 miles of an Ironman marathon. With such a long swim, deficiencies in your breakfast are going to be magnified. And with such a long bike, deficiencies in nutrition and pacing can hit you hard on the bike, and the equivalent of walking instead of running while cycling is - in my opinion - much more unpleasant. So when you approach this race, nutrition (and pacing, which are inextricably linked in any endurance event) are paramount.

In the next piece, I'll cover some of what I think is important to focus on in training - beyond just the obvious advice that you should swim more, bike more, and run less than for an Ironman. And, after that, I'll go over some of the recovery aspects, which I can say after looking back over my Ironman recoveries are quite different, with each presenting it's own challenges, though with pretty different timeframes in each case. At some point, I'll also be doing some talks about the new course in Bend, though I think it's a more "normal" course with less of the "drama" of the Las Vegas course. At the very least, the run isn't a mountain climb!

If I haven't scared you off, you can register for either the Epic 250 (what I'll be doing) or the 125 in Bend, OR on Sept. 22 for only $125.00 (that's only $0.50/km for the 250!) using the code LEADMANRAPP here: http://www.leadmantri.com/

Hope to see you there. Feel free to fire off any questions using the form at the right or using the comments section of this post.

Texas Two Step

© 2012 Eric Wynn

Ironman Texas

The Woodlands, TX - 2012.05.19

[2012.05.29 - This was meant to be a catharsis of sorts for me, but I realize from some of the comments that may not be clear, likely for one of the exact reasons that I wrote this post - the world has a short memory these days. So I can appreciate that if you don't understand exactly what I'm being cathartic about, this may seem kind of odd. Of course, if you don't know what I'm talking about, I'm probably actually happier, and so I'd need to direct you a whole bunch of stupid stuff I wrote in order for this to make sense. C'est la vie...]

Sometimes I think that I should have Jill take my computer away after I win an Ironman. It seems that the old adage proves true and that idle hands really are the devil's tools. Except I don't actual believe in "the devil." But that's a topic for another post. Or perhaps just a topic not to discuss. Regardless, I probably should have spent the time writing about a race in Texas than writing to and about a particular Texan, but I didn't. Though I certainly didn't mean to go so long without writing a few thoughts about what unfolded in The Wooldlands a week ago. It's quite hard to believe it's a week ago as I sit here now. How quickly the limelight fades. As much as I'd like to deny that I seek a way to keep the spotlight on me after the race, I am sure that's a part of why I sometimes get myself into trouble, especially after a successful performance. 

There are so many races. And the world's attention span is so short even on truly important matters, that I'm sure that lots of folks have already forgotten about the race. Even I have almost forgotten about the race as I look forward to a trip to the East Coast to give my high school commencement speech, to take Quentin for his first swim at our little cabin on a lake, to get back to training, to plan for the next races, and to pack up for a summer in Penticton. I'm sure that my subconscious rails hard against the "dying of the light." I do not want my victory to go gently into that good night. And perhaps that's also why I hold off on writing about it. When I share my thoughts, I get to once again bask in the glory of people's kind wishes and congratulations. I can extend the triumph just that little bit longer. I can extend that finishing chute to my desk where I sit trying to recapture the glory that already has begun to fade.

And I'm sure that's part of why I poked at Lance on Twitter and on Slowtwitch (on multiple occasions). He had his seven years in the spotlight. Then he returned for two more. And now he's coming into *my* sport and taking the spotlight here. It's not fair that so many people "liked" his race win in Florida. (Some day, I will write a blog about how bizarre the meaning of that word has become...) I know that I am jealous and envious of that. Thankfully, I think, I don't think I am too consciously envious, but maybe it's worse if it's below the surface. Who knows. If I didn't think Freud was bunk, I'm sure I could find some profound explanation of why. I am absolutely sure, however, that it was not because my mother didn't hold me enough. (Thanks Mom!) I think it's just some of human nature. As mad as the 99% protestors are, I am certain that there's a part of them that wishes that they were the 1%. Or maybe that's just because I'm a 99%, and I know I sometimes wish I was a 1%er. Who doesn't want a yacht you can land your helicopter on at least sometimes?

To be clear, this is not something that I like about myself. And it is not something that I do consciously. And, certainly, it's something that I'd like to change. But, like many things you do without realizing it, that's quite hard to do. As a good friend of mine said during this whole exchange, "you are a positive person. This is not positive."And he was right. Maybe - maybe - something positive will come out of this. At the very least, one positive would be me not doing it anymore. But I am hoping some more positives might come out of it. If they don't, that's fine of course. Self-improvement is a good thing. Oh wait, to quote Tyler Durden, "self improvement is masturbation. Now self-destruction..." But maybe removing some trait of yourself falls under the category of self-destruction. I'll think that way because I happen to like "Fight Club" a lot.

Simon Whitfield has said to me many times, "the boys run under 3 hours, but the men run under 2:50." And, for a while, I was sure that this was going to be a blog about what it was like to become a man with my 2:46:55. But, of course, nothing actually changed about me when I ran that fast. I didn't suddenly grow a lot more chest hair as a result. My voice didn't drop three octaves into some smooth Barry White sounding tenor. I didn't suddenly need to buy new underwear to accomodate my increased manhood. Nope, I was the same person. Obviously. And then, in the aftermath, I did something rather un-manly. I decided to stick my nose into something not really related to me and poke Lance. Did the fact that Lance's win in Florida followed up mine in Texas, and that Lance bumped me down the page on Slowtwitch.com play a role in that? It did not consciously. But I know just enough about how subversive my subconscious brain - all of ours, actually - to say it almost certainly did. Screw you Tex. I just stomped around your home state while you were out playing pro triathlete in Florida. I never actually thought that out loud. But I'm sure I thought it somewhere. My "dark passenger," to quote "Dexter," thought it.

And so when the Des Moines Register article "exposing" (or, rather, just simply covering) that Lance had worked out a deal with the folks at HyVee, I fired off a tweet asking him if Simon and Macca could expect similar treatment at the site of a proposed showdown. Correction. I actually composed that tweet, then deleted it, and then ignored my better judgement and rewrote it and clicked "Tweet." I also wrote a bunch of typically verbose stuff on Slowtwitch about the topic, some before and a lot after. Some of what I wrote was wrong, and I've done my best to correct the stuff that was wrong where I saw it. But some incorrect information may still exist - I write way too much on Slowtwitch - and for that, I apologize.

But let's get back to the race. Sort of. People always seem interested in the race itself, and I'm never that interested in rehashing it. But the folks from Quarq asked me to do a play by play of the bike, which sort of segues in to the run, and that should get published soon. And I wrote a whole bunch on my "Ask Me Anything" thread on Slowtwitch. So if you are interested in that stuff, I'll point you to there. And I will post a link to the Quarq thing when it's published. For whatever reason, I can't seem to get much into writing "race reports" that basically translate into, "I swam. It was far. I felt good. I biked. It was far. I felt good. I ran. It was far. I felt good. I won." Oh yeah, I *WON*! So why was I not at the park hanging out with Quentin. Ironically, that's actually where I was when I sent that tweet out. I was enjoying a rare week away from training. I was spending time with my son. And instead of watching him to make sure he wasn't eating sand, which he tries to do when he's teething, and which he was in fact doing when I looked up from my phone, I was picking a fight with Lance. And I was picking a fight over a race that I was not going to be at on behalf of two friends of mine who never asked me to defend them from a slight that they didn't actually perceive. So, remind me again why taking time off from training is a good thing?

Ultimately, I think I wrote some worthwhile stuff that also includes some stuff that I wish I had not written. And you can see where I've made notes of what I wrote that was wrong as well as stuff that I just shouldn't have written. But none of that really has anything to do with Texas. Or maybe it does. I remember one of my best races. It was at Vineman in 2006. I finished 8th. I had, for me, an okay swim. I had a solid ride. And I had my best run at a 70.3 race - a time that it took me quite a while to actually beat. But i finished EIGHTH (random aside, eighth is a weird looking word). I made zero money. Nobody cared. And I got incredibly depressed afterwards. I really almost quit racing. I had trained hard. I had raced well. And I had sucked. Or, rather, my result sucked. So what does that have to do with Texas. Well, I had trained hard. I had raced well. And I had not sucked. And life was good. And I wasn't about to quit the sport. But... "But what?" But there's still the simple truth that the reality of what a certain result or performance brings almost inevitably falls short of expectations. Dan wrote recently on the forum, on a different discussion about Lance, how he does not actually want to meet his heroes, because they inevitably fall short of his expectations. And it seems the same is true about races. And I think a lot more. I remember graduating from college and thinking - for about five minutes - "I'm invincible." Then that faded, and I was thinking, "okay, now what?" And I actually had a job to look forward to unlike a lot of people these days. 

I won an Ironman. And then Lance won in Florida. What the heck? Don't do that! But wait. There's hope. His "hypocrisy" is shown in the Des Moines Register. I will take it upon myself to expose this hypocrisy. That's a good idea, right? Well, maybe it was. But there was probably a better way to go about it than the one I chose. I sent the following to someone as an outline of my thoughts on a loosely related matter a while back. They sent it back to me and encouraged me to re-read it. It's a wonderful quote, written by Carl Sagan, who is more eloquent and certainly much briefer than I:

"The chief deficiency I see in the skeptical movement is its polarization: Us vs. Them — the sense that we have a monopoly on the truth; that those other people who believe in all these stupid doctrines are morons; that if you're sensible, you'll listen to us; and if not, to hell with you. This is nonconstructive. It does not get our message across. It condemns us to permanent minority status." - Carl Sagan 

Carl is talking about religion. But he could really be talking about almost anything. War. Taxes. The state of professionalism in the sport of triathlon. And I don't think I did a very good job of being cognizant of it. And I think I did condemn myself to at least temporary minority status. I hope it's not permanent. Not because being a minority is bad. But because a minority implies a majority which necessarily implies a dichotomy. And dichotomy isn't inherently bad. It's natural. But there's something to be said for unity as well.

Texas is a fiercely independent state. I used to joke that you could always tell when you met someone from Texas because no matter where they were, they were standing on Texas soil and that it extended for a three foot radius around them, such that when you shook hands with them, you were actually shaking hands in Texas. That's something that, in many ways, I admire about Texas. I like that and the gunslinger attitude that often accompanies it. I fancy myself that way sometimes. But something usually happens to gunslingers. They get shot. And there are times when you might draw the analogy of the gunslinger flying too close to the sun like our friend Icarus. But I think that can be a hard comparison to make when you're lying face down in a ditch with a bullet in your back. Of course, this is all metaphorically speaking. And sometimes you do need to be a gunslinger. But best to keep your weapon holstered until those times when you really need it. To quote another favorite show, "Justified," "you pull, and I'll put you down." And it's what not said in there that matters. Don't be the guy that draws first. Don't fire the first shot. Just make sure you know how to return fire. To follow up with another quote, from Little Bill Daggett (Gene Hackman) in "Unforgiven," "Look son, being a good shot, being quick with a pistol, that don't do no harm, but it don't mean much next to being cool-headed. A man who will keep his head and not get rattled under fire, like as not, he'll kill ya. It ain't so easy to shoot a man anyhow, especially if the son-of-a-bitch is shootin' back at you."

What's especially ironic is that when I was on the race course in Texas, I won for one simple reason - I kept my head and did not get rattled under fire. There's a lesson in that somewhere, I'm sure of it...

Failing & Flying

© 2012 Rick Kent, FinisherPix.com

[What follows is my speech at the 2012 Memorial Hermann Ironman Texas athlete and volunteer awards banquet, held the Sunday afternoon following the race. This is the same speech that appears on Slowtwitch.com; so if you read it there, you don't need to read it again here. When I posted my speech from Ironman Canada 2011 on Slowtwitch.com, I never expected it to get the reception it did, nor for it to resonate with so many people. I tried not to copy that speech - though there are some inevitable similarities given that they are both about doing Ironman - or to even attempt to write something that would be as popular. So if I fall short of the bar I set, I think that might actually be quite apropos, as I think you'll see.]

I have to give the commencement speech at my high school in three weeks, so given the thematic similarities between wrapping up 12 years of schooling and an Ironman - they both seem to take forever - I hope you won't mind if I test out a variation on my plan for that speech with you all today.

One of the things that always amazes me about Ironman athletes is the incredible variety of backgrounds of everyone in the race, not only in the path they have taken to the start line, but in the incredible array of off-course activities and interests. So, thankfully, I don't worry too much when I base a speech around something from Greek mythology. However, since many of you may be a bit far removed from the classroom, I promise to give a brief refresher.

The story of Icarus is generally told as a warning against hubris. Icarus's father, the master inventor Daedalus, crafted two pairs of wings from feathers and wax. The plan was to use these wings to escape the island of Crete, where they were being held prisoner by King Minos. However, being made of wax, the wings were relatively fragile - I doubt they would have survived the run course here yesterday - so Daedalus instructed his young son not to fly too close to the sun, lest the wax melt. As you might expect when you enable a young man to fly, that warning didn't last long once they got in the air. Icarus flew too close to the sun; the wax melted, destroying the wings; and Icarus fell to his death. The lesson is simple - man needs to be aware of his limits. Man was not meant to fly like the gods. Man's place is with both feet firmly on the ground. Be humble. Et cetera, et cetera, et cetera.

But the poet Jack Gilbert has a different take on the matter. As he says in the opening line of Failing and Flying, "Everyone forgets that Icarus also flew." And he's right. ICARUS FLEW! How amazing is that? How incredible is it that he left the earth and soared? And everyone - EVERYONE - that stepped into Lake Woodlands yesterday can relate to that. Even if you didn't finish. Even if you fell short of your goals. Even if you had a "bad race." Even if you… "failed" at whatever you set out to do. 

You dared to dream. However briefly, you ALL flew. And no one can ever take that away from you. Certainly there were times when it didn't feel like flying. Riding back into that headwind. Baking under the sun out on that run course. I think we all wished for shade even more than Icarus might have. For those people that struggled mightily all day and yet missed that midnight cutoff, I can't even imagine that feeling. I don't think you felt like you were flying right then.

And, even, if we did achieve our goals, we all had our moments of doubt. I know I did. I never expected to come into T2 and hear, "you're twelve and a half minutes down from the lead." It's too hot. That's too far. I'm tired. I want to go back to bed. I don't want any more Perform; I just want a beer. There is nothing like an Ironman to make you question your decision to attempt the impossible. Maybe the naysayers WERE right. Maybe our feet do belong on the ground. Maybe 140.6 miles of swimming, biking, and running - yes, all in one day, to answer the oft-asked question - is simply hubris. For the veterans, maybe we've just gotten lucky before. To the first timers, you had to ask yourself, "what on earth was I thinking?" I don't actually remember much of anything from my first Ironman. The marathon occupies about 26.2 milliseconds - at best - in my brain. But I am certain that I wondered, "who decided this was a good idea? How is this actually even legal?" I'm certain because I wonder that even now, especially when I look at my poor toes. And maybe that's a sign that Ironman isn't something we were meant to do. I think my legs certainly would agree with that statement. But, to quote the great Jens Voigt, "Shut up legs!" 

And I don't think that it's true that Ironman is not something we were meant to do. I think we do Ironman for the same reasons Icarus flew too close to the sun. We want to see if we can. We want to know what we are capable of. We want to ignore all the warnings and find out for ourselves. And whenever I cross that finishline, I *KNOW* it's what I was meant to do. And when I see everyone else crossing that line - no matter what time the clock says - it's pretty clear that I'm not alone in that belief. There's something remarkably elegant about Mike Reilly's simple statement, "YOU. ARE. AN. IRONMAN." Though, right now, I'm sure that he wishes he could trim it down to only two or three words after saying a couple thousand times yesterday. 

I am an Ironman. You all are Ironmen. And no matter how your day unfolded, I think that Jack Gilbert sums it up well with the closing line of that same poem, "I believe that Icarus was not failing as he fell, but just coming to the end of his triumph." And to everyone with a blue bracelet, I hope you feel the same way. As much as I wish for that time in the finish chute to last for eternity, at some point, it is the end of my triumph. And that, I think, is what keeps us coming back for more…

Need A Bike?

ALL BIKES ARE NOW SOLD 

Okay, after my Shiv giveaway, it was clear there are people who just need a bike. They are borrowing a friends or have a 25yo POS or whatever. If you are one of those people, this thread is for you. In my experience, people don't value stuff they get for free. People will take dog shit if it's free. So, you have to pay. A little. $134 to World Bicycle Relief - you get a bike, so you give a bike - and you pay the shipping (probably about $50 bucks).

Aside from the QR, where I *know* the geometry, everything else is my best approximation using a plumb line, digital level, and tape measure. I'm close, but please don't get pissed if I'm off 5mm here or there.

TRI BIKES

SOLD QR Tequilo (aluminum) - frame / fork / seatpost / headset

Sz 58 // Stack - 550mm // Reach - 448mm // 700C // internal headset // HT - 140mm // STA - 78.5

This is a great bike for somebody TALL who rides STEEP. It's   a BIG frame. Like really big. If you are a good match to something like a 58 Cervelo P3, this is your bike. Probably someone at least 6'2-6'3, even as tall as 6'5. This is a great tribike with great geometry. It's fast. And aluminum rules for durability. Brand new. Literally. Needs ALL parts.

SOLD Serotta Ottrott (titanium & carbon custom) - frame / chris king EXTERNAL headset / reynolds ouzo pro fork

Stack - 530mm // Reach - 365mm // 700C // external headset // HT - 120mm // STA 75.5

This is a great bike for someone who's probably 5'6-5'9. Prefers an upright position. Doesn't care about aero. It's a fantastic bike, but it's not going to knife through the wind. it's round tubes. But it's truly a beautifully crafted bike. MSRP is like $4500. The geometry is not great for someone who wants to ride steep. This is for someone who is really more comfortable on a road bike, but wants a bike with aerobars. 

SOLD Serotta Ottrott (titanium & carbon custom) - frame / chris king EXTERNAL headset / reynolds ouzo pro fork

Stack - 590mm // Reach - 395mm // 700C // external headset // HT - 175mm // STA 75

Essentially the same frame as above, but for someone who's probably 5'10 - 6'1. All the same concerns/caveats/etc regarding geometry. Same beautiful base frame though.

ROAD BIKES

SOLD Abici Podium (aluminum) - frame / internal headset / carbon fork

Stack - 510mm // Reach - 380mm // 700C // internal headset // HT - 110mm // STA 73

For someone who needs a second bike or just doesn't have their own bike. Good bike for someone 5'4-5'6 or so. This is a little bike, but it's pretty long. Nothing special, but it's a bike, and if you don't have one, this is better than nothing. Would be competitive with something like a Scattante or other "house brand." This is nothing magic other than it's a bike frame. 

As with the Shiv giveaway, message me on Facebook or email me - preferred - using the form on the right hand side of the blog or grab my email off Slowtwitch and send me a message. I'll also be sending this out to all the folks who wrote - mass mail style - so if you already emailed me, just wait for that message and then reply. I'm going to mass mail, so if you don't need a bike like this, please don't take offense. It's just to save me some time. Thanks.

Two Steps Forward. One Step Short.

© Timothy Carlson, Slowtwitch.com 2012

Wildflower

Lake Nacimiento, CA - 2012.05.05

Second place can be one of the hardest places, mentally, to finish. You're left with all those questions about where you might have picked up those critical minutes or seconds needed to move up just enough to claim victory. There is a truly massive difference between winning a race and everything else - in all aspects. But looking back at the weekend, it's hard for me to find too much I'd change. Overall, I executed the race that I wanted to execute. Unfortunately, Jesse Thomas was just better on the day. There are some relatively minor - in the overall scheme of execution - things that I'd change that might have given me a better shot to win, but ultimately I went about as fast as I thought I was capable of going on this course this year given the conditions; I think with some perfect pacing, I had another 30sec or maybe a minute, but given that I lost by 1:24, I don't see that putting me across the line first. I think I might have played my cards a bit differently in an effort to slow Jesse down - I didn't do myself any favors by setting the pace for him for the first 40 miles of the ride - but whether or not those things would have changed the outcome is a total unknown. He might have paced himself exactly the same and still crossed the line first. He's a first class athlete with a first class motor, perhaps an even bigger one than he even realized after a 3:58:59, the 3rd fastest time ever on the Wildflower course. 

One thing I certainly wasn't going to let happen was to have a 4:04:45 earn him another spot on the stairway of champions. 4:00:22 would have been good enough to win here on many occasions, but it wasn't this year, and my biggest takeaway is that I just need to continue to chip away and get faster. I was faster in all three disciplines than in 2009, with my run - 1:16:11 - being 5th fastest on the day, and 2nd fastest (after Thomas) among those in the hunt for the win - showing the most improvement. And I came out of the water right where I needed to be and was able to execute during the swim to stay in that group. On the bike, I had good legs, perhaps good enough to roll the dice a bit more than I did, but it's hard for me to really do much more than nitpick in the way that I think all athletes do when they come up short. If I was truly satisfied with second, I think it'd be time for me to find something else to do. I am happy with how I finished, but I am certainly not content. Wildflower is very much a race I'd like to win, and I think it's a race that I'm very much capable of winning. But I'll just have to wait until 2013 for another crack at it.

While I don't generally like to delve into discourse of the internal business side of the sport as a pro, there are two noteworthy things about this weekend that I want to mention. The first is related to the race itself. One of the nicest things about this race is the almost non-existant cost to do the race. Tri-California provides first class accommodation (I shared a three bedroom, two bathroom house overlooking Lake Nacimiento with one other pro) to every pro, which means that even those who don't place in the top-10 aren't out of pocket much more than travel expenses. Secondly, the race pays ten deep, and it does so in a very equitable manner, which I appreciate. The breakdown of prize money can be found HERE, but it's just as easily summed up by the fact that first place gets $5000 and 10th place gets $600. One of the benchmarks for "fair" prize money payout is that place X should never get less than 1/X of first. However, that is a true rarity in triathlon, with overly top heavy purses - often egregiously so (NYC was the worst offender, in my opinion, from a percentage standpoint paying $10,000 for first and $500 for fifth and $0 for sixth; but prize purses where first place represents an overwhelming portion of the prize purse are, unfortunately, the norm). If you read this interview with Mark Montgomery, you'll see that Terry Davis has regularly gone above and beyond to "make things right" when they haven't been. And I think the distribution of the prize money and the lodging for the pros are representative of that focus. I do, however, think it's a bit unfortunate that the prize purse overall ($40,000 total) has fallen a bit behind relative to other premiere half-Ironman events put on by both Rev3 and WTC. But overall, I'm less concerned the quantity of prize money as compared with how it is distributed and, more generally, how the pros are treated, and on both of those counts, Tri-California does a great job.

The other thing that continues to amaze me is the commitment Specialized has made to their Specialized Racing team. They were the first company to truly offer pro-cycling level support to their athletes. The team truck and the on-site mechanics that the Specialized Racing MTB team enjoyed is now a fixture at many of our biggest races. This year at Wildflower, as an added bonus, they brought in their own photographer and also a professional soigneur who has worked with the mountain bike team for a long time. The presence of a dedicated photographer shows the value that they place on their sponsored athletes, something which I feel is unparalleled in the industry, and having a soigneur on site was incredible after the race, when you are often fighting to get a 10-15 minute rubdown from someone in massage school trying to get treatment practice. I could have taken advantage of Pieter's services before the race, but having never had a soigneur at a race, I wanted to avoid trying anything "new," though with some familiarity with him - and he with me - I'd certainly do it if I needed it in the future at a race where Specialized brought him in. While none of this support really makes a big difference to anyone other than me and the other Specialized pros - though I know the mechanics do an amazing job helping to fix all bikes, both Specialized and otherwise, before the race, I do feel I'd be remiss if I didn't say thank you (again) for what Specialized does for me, and for all of their athletes. Introducing Jesse Thomas to the folks in Morgan Hill continues to seem like a worse idea all the time...

All in all, after my double-flat at Leadman, it feels like I've really kicked off 2012. Despite not racing as much to start this year as I have in years past, I was firing on all cylinders on race day and - amazingly - was actually pretty fast in transition as well. I had a successful first race on my new bike (no matter how much you train a bike, it's always a tiny bit of a question mark until you get that first race in the books). And I think I truly did learn something from the mistakes I made both leading up to and during this race last year. But as nice as all that is, there is most certainly a fire burning to get back to the top step of the podium in two weeks at Ironman Texas. After Wildflower, I said, "If we'd had to go around twice, I'd like my chances a lot better." Well, I'm about to get my wish. Bring it on.

Quick post script thanks to Trevor Wurtele, who posted this on my Facebook. Pretty much...

Paid Forward

Yes, he's a BAMF. But that's not the (only) reason why...

I am writing on behalf of my husband, Drew Ziegler, a firefigher/EMT in Clinton, Mississippi. He began racing triathlons about 3 years ago after a friend convinced him to try one. He had an interest in cycling since he used to cycle for rehab following soccer injuries. After another injury took him away from a professional soccer career, he began to devote his time to training for triathlons (he was hooked after the first one). He also decided to become a firefighter, which is a perfect fit for him since he has such a heart for helping people, especially in emergency situations. He is an extremely selfless person. He works a stressful job and never complains about pay. When we got married he sold many of his bike parts to be able to afford a honeymoon. On numerous occasions, he has saved up for upgraded bike parts and then given them to friends who he felt needed them more, never asking for money. A few months ago he had a bike wreck that broke a few parts on his bike but didn't harm him. He took the parts that worked and helped a friend get his bike in working condition so he could do his first race. He has been saving up for a new bike but it has been difficult due to our financial situation. I know this would mean to the world to him.


And that's (roughly) the letter that I got from Anna Claire Ziegler. I let her polish it a bit for publication. In the original version, she mentioned that Drew had shown her what I was doing with my Shiv as something noteworthy but that he felt that wasn't something he deserved. Well, she felt it was something he deserved. And so, being a plucky Mississippi girl, she decided to write on his behalf. As a quick aside, among the bike parts he sold to finance their honeymoon? His race wheels. Seriously, I thought stuff like this didn't exist outside of Lifetime movies... Well, in addition to his wife thinking he deserved the bike, so did I, and so did basically everyone I enlisted to help me read all of the "applications."

I had quite the committee, and being such an eclectic group, I thought you might enjoying knowing a bit about them. I was so moved by the fact that people were sharing these stories with me, that I knew I couldn't decide on my own. Reading the stories was incredibly emotional, and the idea of turning any one of those folks down broke my heart (and still breaks my heart, which is why I haven't written the "I'm sorry..." letters yet. But I will. To everyone. Promise). My first recruit, who in typical fashion self-selected himself - was Jon. Jon was a former elite rower turned cyclist who now races XTerra. Jon has no children and is generally totally unsympathetic towards the demands of parenthood. His general bias was towards the young and aspiring kids who wanted to become pros, mostly because they reminded him of him, and he's very fond of himself. He's also an excellent judge of character and one of my good friends. And he was willing to read 40 (some additional ones trickled in) stories.

My next recruit was Alan, who was just shy of 300lbs before deciding to take control of his life. Alan's first triathlon was an Ironman, which tells you most of what you need to know about his drive, perhaps only complemented by knowing that his PB for 140.6 is sub-10hrs. Alan is a proud parent of two wonderful children. I knew Alan would help to provide some insight into the meaning and importance of the several weight-loss related stories I received, which were truly inspiring.

Alan helped me recruit Jay, who was a former 2:16 marathoner at a time when white kids from the US generally didn't run 2:16 for the marathon. But due to injury, Jay can no longer run. But he's a helluva bike rider. And a parent. Like Jon, Jay had a soft spot for the kids wanting to become pros, again flashbacks to his own glory days.

And lastly, I asked for my wife's help. As a former elite athlete who faced injury and as a new mom, she had her own biases. And, of course, as a Canadian, she was especially biased towards those trusty folks from north of The Border who wrote in.

As for me, I was touched by everyone in a profound way. Not only because the stories were so remarkable, but because they were telling them to me because they wanted my bike. And they wanted to pay for my bike. The reason I asked people - initially - to pay was because I thought it'd be a good way to do some good while also doing what I regularly do, which is turn the equipment I get into income. But as the stories came in, I realized there was no way I could take the money. And I didn't want to. But I didn't want to give the bike away, because in my experience, people tend to 1) want ANYTHING if it's free and 2) care about it less. Having done giveaways at expos, people just grab because "IT'S FREE!" and I wanted to avoid that. So that's why I decided to require some money, although as I wrote, it's going 50/50 to World Bicycle Relief and a charity of the recipients choosing. For his half of the $500 (the amount that seemed doable to pretty much everyone which is how I settled on it) to charity, Drew is giving to the National Autism Center.

With the help of my friends, we narrowed it down to the most compelling stories. There were a few names that kept popping up in everyone's list, and Drew's was one of them. Drew's story touched everyone. Ultimately, I settled on three finalists. And I planned to have the world-at-large vote on those three. But then, while I was out training, I changed my mind. Someone raised the good objection that votes often become a popularity contest. And I liked the idea that I got to choose someone and say to them, "I choose you to have my bike," as opposed to, "The world chose you." Of the three finalists, only Drew didn't have a bike (because of his wreck). The other finalists, who replied after I told them of my change of plans (I had previously written to ask them for a "final draft" submission that could be made public), both said that they thought it appropriate that the bike go to someone without a bike.

To the young kids and aspiring pros out there, yours were among the hardest to read. I felt for every one of you. Some, I was inspired by the massive obstacles you've already overcome. Others, by your zeal and passion for the future. In the end, I wasn't sure how to choose among all of you, so I thought it best to just eliminate you all as a group. It was too hard to find the right mix of results/need/etc. But I am certain you will all find success, as your passion was obvious. I wish I had bikes for all of you. And if I can help you find one, I will. I'll touch on how when I write back to each of you.

To everyone else - and you really ran the gamut - I wish I had bikes for you all as well. Some of you needed "a bike," (though likely not pure race bike like my Shiv), and I hope you find one. And if I can help, I will. Again, I'll touch on that when I write back to each of you too.

I was truly inspired. As seems to happen so often, whenever I do something that seems to "inspire" other people, I'm really the one who comes away even more inspired. So thank you. And, Drew, enjoy your new bike. I'd say I'm expecting big things, but you've already done plenty...

Final Answer

Long road ahead for both of us. Just different roads...

After a lot of internal debate, I've changed my mind about having a vote off. I didn't want it to become a popularity contest. And, ultimately, I think I really did want to choose who it went to. So I've found a new home. And I'm pretty sure it's a great one. I need to check with the new owner to make sure that he's okay with it being public. Tailwinds...

37

37. Thirty-seven. That's how many people wrote unbelievable stories asking for my bike for themselves (and, in a couple cases, for someone else). So here's what I've decided to do. I've enlisted some friends and family to help read them all. We're each making our recommendations as to which we think are the most deserving. We're trying to narrow it down to 3-5. But that's proving pretty dang difficult. But that's my goal. Once we've done that, I'm going to check in with the folks who sent in to make sure it's okay to publicize their stories (anonymously if they want), and then I'm going to use one of the various polling engines available on the web to let the world decide who gets it.

Now, some of you may be wondering why I said the bike was for sale. Well, it was. But reading these stories, I really don't want the money. BUT, I've learned that people value things a lot more when they have to give something up for them. The number that everyone seems to be able to afford is $500. So, that's going to be the price for whomever wins. Only, it's not going to me. 50% will go to "my" charity - World Bicycle Relief. And 50% will go to the charity of the winner's choosing. 

Oh, yeah. The bike now comes with shifters, front derailleur, and rear derailleur. I'm sure I should have organized this better, but I never expected this kind of response, and well, I've just been so touched by the stories I've heard, that I don't really think I can open this up into a free for all or anything more. So, that's the way it works this time. Next time, I'll try to be a bit more fair from the outset.

You're going to a new home...

Bike For Sale. Ridden Hard. Put Away Wet.

It is this bike. That's me winning a World Championship on it.

- Comes with both forward and setback seatposts.
- Comes with both straight and s-bend extensions (both totally uncut)
- Comes with brake-levers with brake-tension adjustment knobs (these are the levers that come with the bike)

 This is the 2010/2011 "nose-cone" Shiv "module" WITHOUT CRANKSET. Size LARGE (same geometry as current Shiv TT).

 Note: I have all of the hardware to adjust the aerobar pad height. All the towers/riser/bolts. I *also* have a ton of stainless steel hardware, which I upgraded on the whole front end, which I will include.

You will need:
- BB30 crankset
 - Front derailleur
 - Rear derailleur
 - Shifters
(And, of course, wheels/tires/tubes/casette/chain)

 As with my Transition (the bike I rode at IMAZ '10 in my comeback race), I care more about this bike going to someone special than getting the most money I can for it. I won some pretty special races on this bike. So I want it to go to someone for whom it will also mean something. So, make a fair offer. No reasonable offer will be rejected.

 The Transition went to a college kid. I sold it for less than $1000. I like the idea of a young kid who will appreciate it, since I was once in that same position. But anyone for whom the bike would be a special is something I'll consider.

Slowtwitch Forum thread HERE. Or you can email using the form on the right. Or send me a message on Twitter; extra bonus for a really good story in 140chrs. Or send me a message on Facebook.