End-of-year gear: Running reviews

In the spirit of the season (insane shopping season, as far as I can tell), I thought I'd share some thoughts on gear I've discovered, or just loved using, in 2013. This update will be in two parts. This one is about gear for running, the next one will be about cool stuff for cycling.

So what have I been using this year?

My stable of shoes expanded this year to include the Altra Lone Peak and the Skora Base (more on this later), both of which I like. All of my road racing (and a fair bit of training) has still been in my Saucony Hattoris, which have sadly been discontinued. Shame on you Saucony!
Socks. I know people like socks for Christmas (or so my mum always said) and I know they're a very personal choice. That said, if I'm not out in my Injinji socks, then I'm probably running in Swiftwick. It's hard to say why they're awesome, they just are. I don't quite understand why I'm excited about a sock, but there you have it.
I've not really got a clear favourite in the running tights department, and the oh-my-god-these-are-awesome split shorts I recently found appear to have been, yes, discontinued (thanks Puma!) The best running singlet (vest, for those who speak the Queen's) I own is still my K-Swiss Ironman singlet.

So there are two things I want to go a little more in depth with, first the Skora Base and then the Altra Lone Peak. Let's face it - running is about shoes.

Skora Base

I'm going to have to come clean here: I didn't pay for these. A Skora ambassador (Kyle - thanks Kyle!) very kindly hooked me up with a pair, but I'm under no obligation to say nice things. Most of what I have to say about these is pretty good though.

Firstly, Skora shoes come in a pretty damn sexy box. I don't usually keep my shoes in the box after I first take them out, but the Skora box is nice (it has a magnetic closure). See how pretty it is?

Since first impressions count, here are the exact words I sent to Kyle on the day I got the shoes:

 I tried them on, and they felt good enough to just jump out of the door and go an easy 4.5 miles.

The shoe has a great shape and the length is exactly as hoped. With the one piece upper it feels super comfortable straight out of the box.

Cinching in the heel tab a little holds my heel in the shoe perfectly, and I have a fairly narrow heel. The forefoot has good space too. The middle of the shoe seems to be harder to secure completely. I feel like there's a bit of lateral movement allowed (which I only feel cornering quickly). It feels like the design of the velcro fastener is tightening the front of the shoe more than the mid, so if I tighten the strap to where the top/mid foot is 100% secure then it feels a bit too snug by the front of the strap system (and I feel like I'm running out of velcro to fasten the strap with!). I'll play with it... it's certainly not bad, just initially isn't feeling completely secure across the midfoot/around the arch.

First impressions from the run are fairly good too. The ride feels firmer than I was expecting. I think the firmer feel comes from the forefoot of the shoe being laterally stiff, which I wasn't expecting. It's plenty flexible in every other sense, and it certainly didn't stop me from getting some good strides done in my run. It'll be interesting to see how the flex changes as the shoe gets some miles on it.

I chose the Skora Base, despite being intrigued by the different outsole on the Phase, because of its similarity to the Saucony Hattori (13mm stack height, 0mm drop, velcro closure). The velcro closure is a big plus since I race duathlon and triathlon, but hate elastic laces. I'd like to stop right there though and say that it's not really a similar shoe. The Hattori is a ninja slipper that lets you count the grains of sand underfoot while running as fast as your legs can handle; the Base feels more sedate and solid, more of a stoic samurai. I can't stress enough just how cushy the upper is though.

My first impression largely stands after running in the Base for nearly 3 months. Unless you usually run in Hattoris, Vibram FiveFingers or the like, you probably won't notice the lateral stiffness in the forefoot. I've gotten used to it, but it's definitely there. It's got a good amount of foot protection though, easily enough for non-technical trail running. While I didn't initially feel that the shoe was right for racing or fast runs, I've changed my mind somewhat. I've run hard training sessions on road and trail in these shoes, including haring around corners like I stole something. When I'm pushing hard the shoes just perform and I don't really notice the stiffness that I feel at lower speeds. I'm still not sure that I'd race in these over my Hattoris, the design of the velcro closure isn't quite right, but I find myself reaching for the Skora most times I get ready for a run.

Altra Lone Peak 1.5

A lot of my running is on technical trails, mostly because that's what the trails here are like. They're often steep, usually rocky, and occasionally trying to kill me. I used to run them in Vibram Bikilas, but after dropping back from 6th to 25th in a trail half-marathon because of a badly bruised foot at mile 7 I decided I needed "a real shoe". Okay, I could've run the section with sharp, baby-head rocks a bit slower, but then that stops it being "racing".

So last year I got some hardcore trail shoes: the Pearl Izumi Peak II. They're a fine shoe, but at 9mm drop they're more ramp than I like. I also get some rub at the front of the shoe after 90 minutes or so. Which other shoes are available that are lower ramp, lower stack, but still offer good performance and protection on gnarly trails?

Enter the Altra Lone Peak 1.5

Be warned - the forefoot on these is super wide. I have oddly shaped feet - narrow at the heel and wide at the front. Sort of like flippers. These have a comfy heel cup that feels secure, and the lacing really allows me to get the shoe cinched down so it doesn't move around. Until the helpful sales guy at Santa Fe Running Hub showed me how I should lace these I was about to put them back and try a different shoe. This probably isn't a shoe for folks whose feet are narrow all the way along, but will most likely work for everyone else. The only problem I have with the construction on these shoes is that I get some rub at the top of the heel cup by the achilles, especially when running downhill. The simple solution is to wear longer socks, but if you're an aficionado of the uber-short socks (or no socks at all) then you have been warned.

Performance-wise, I have only good to say about these shoes. They give reasonable ground-feel while offering good protection from sharp rocks. The grip is awesome in pretty much all conditions, bar ice. Compared to other trail shoes I've had these still feel good on road, in case you have to run a couple miles to hit your favourite trailhead. Also, how sweet do they look?

TL;DR

There are some cool running shoes on the market, and if you're into natural running, minimalist running or just don't like bulky shoes (however you like to think of it) then I reckon it's worth taking a look at Skora and Altra. Also, everything I like seems to get discontinued pretty quickly, so if you like something I do it's probably worth buying six of them now.

Footnote (PSA)

As a final public service announcement I'd like to slate, without reservation, the Soffe running shorts. While they may be the same shorts that the US military use, I think that recent cost-cutting measures have sold the US military short. These are without a doubt the worst running shorts I have ever worn. Most of the negative reviews on Amazon relate to the lack of modesty required to wear these shorts. Trust me - I have little modesty and most of my running shorts are 1-2" inseam, either full or half split. I don't care that these shorts are short, or that the material is suggestively translucent. They aren't designed for humans, or running. I recommend paying the extra for a known entity that isn't a piece of crap. And with that... happy holidays and I'll get to writing about bike gear once I've been out for a ride.

How to (almost) win a half-marathon

Last weekend I ran a half-marathon in Albuquerque, NM. "Day of the Tread" is a day of the dead themed running and cycling festival. They have running races from 1 mile to a full marathon and cycling tours from 12 to 100 miles - in all, they put on 12(?) events, with a good fraction of participants coming in fancy dress. Having previously done the century tour (100 mile bike ride), and given that it fell on a good weekend for me and the girl, Day of the Tread was pencilled into the calendar as soon as we decided on a late-season half marathon. (Hopefully I'll get some photos into this post soon...)

After mostly failing to run through summer, and subsequently feeling pretty rough on the run at Ironman 70.3 Boulder, I started building my running back up with the intent of running this race and being ready to jump into marathon training if the girl decided that she did want to run a marathon in spring after all. That's been an on/off discussion for a year or so now.

I made it to race day with 7 weeks of consistent running behind me, on average 3-4 runs per week and an average of 21 miles per week so far in October. Prior to that I was doing 0-2 runs per week - despite having been in good running form back in May I lost motivation and just let cycling take over. In my books that's not a bad thing, but it's sub-optimal when you're aiming to run a half marathon. Just to be clear about the contribution from my cycling, I've been averaging about 7 hours a week of cycling, with a peak of about 12 hours.

Yes, I have a very good saddle. We are friends.

So there we were, race morning, getting onto the bus to the start line. Day of the Tread is a point-to-point course, flat for 5 miles and then some smallish hills and net downhill run into the finish. I was hoping for a fast time. In particular, I was looking to beat my personal best of 1:36:30 set at the "High Altitude Half" in 2011 - the day before I started this blog. Normally I wouldn't recommend looking for a PB on limited training, but I had a similar balance of training back in 2011 and not as much volume through the year. I had designs on going under 1:30, that's a 6:51/mile pace, and so my official target was 1:29:54.

It turns out that there's nothing like a bus ride from the finish of a run, to the start line, to hammer home that it's actually a long way. We also passed what I'm pretty sure was one of the locations where they filmed Breaking Bad, which seemed to fit with the fancy dress/Hallowe'en/Day of the Dead theme. We then pulled up in what looked like the middle of nowhere, on a pretty nice road. The only signs of civilization, if you can call it that, were the row of porta-potties and the DJ/race starter.

The girl and I warmed up with about 15 minutes to go. I did some jogging in warm clothes, with some accelerations to race pace. The girl danced to "Blurred Lines" and whatever else they played. Then the warm clothes went into our drop bags, and we lined up at the start. A young guy, about 20, walked up and said "Hey, you look fast..."
Looking around at the various Ninja Turtles, Luigi (from Mario Bros), assorted zombies and superheroes I replied "Well, it's all relative."

He was planning about a 1:20 half marathon. I said he was too fast for me, I was looking for under 1:30. A young woman next to us said he was too fast for her too. She was dressed as a runner - and it was a very convincing costume. She looked pretty serious, with a possibility of fast. And then came the gun...

The first half mile was a fast pace, but the three of us were chatting, until I looked at my watch. 5:40/mile pace. Oops! I told them it was a bit fast for me, so I eased up slightly, as did Ms. Runner. Our exceedingly fast friend held his pace and disappeared. From there Ms. Runner and I were running variously side-by-side and up to about a minute apart (she led until mile 7, then I moved ahead). And then came mile 11. I was feeling good, and there was no-one to be seen behind me. Finally I'd made a decent gap! I passed another aid station, politely declined the cups of water and keep running in the lane coned off at the side of the road.

One cross street.
Two.
Three.
No more cones.

I stopped and looked around. There was no sign of where I was supposed to go. I jogged to the next bus stop and asked the people there if they'd seen another runner come by. They said no. Annoyed, but not willing to lose more time I decided to head back to the last aid station, it wasn't that far. As I started back up the road Ms. Runner was running toward me, so I asked her "Any idea where we're supposed to go?" The answer: "No, I was following you."

Great. We both ran back to the aid station and turned down the side street. Back on course! I shouted to the marshals and police that they should have someone on the corner directing runners. The sarcastic response was "Yeah, we'll get right on that." I know it's my responsibility to know the course, but the course markings looked like it went straight and no-one said anything as I ran past. Or as Ms. Runner went past. The volunteers, marshals and police were great everywhere else on the course, but that corner really let the side down.

After another mile or so I had pulled slightly ahead again, and by asking as I approached each junction I managed to stay on course, and take the right turn to the finish line. Despite running an extra 0.4 miles, and wasting a good 45 seconds heading to the bus stop to ask for directions, I'd managed to hold on to second place!
Final (official) time: 1:30:30. (My run on Strava)
Exactly 6 minutes faster than my previous best.

At most races a 90 minute half-marathon won't even get you into the top 25. At some it won't get you into the top 100. Lucky for me the Duke City marathon is a big deal in New Mexico, and that was exactly 7 days prior. All the fast half-marathoners showed up there and not at Day of the Tread. So how do you almost win a half-marathon? It almost doesn't matter how slow you are - picking your race is paramount. You can only beat (or be beaten by) who shows up.

While that was my official time, I covered the half marathon distance in 1:28ish. I'm disappointed that I missed my 1:30 target, but know that the race time doesn't tell the whole story. I covered the distance slightly faster than my target pace, so it's an unofficial sub-1:30 in my books. And it's a new PR that I know I can beat, just as soon as my legs recover.

A spring and summer of success!

Last weekend was the Boulder 70.3 triathlon. This blog post was mostly going to be a race report, but I realised just how long it's been since I posted anything... a lot has happened since then, and much of it is useful back-story for the Boulder race.

So, back-story it is.
Last time I posted here was after the Atomic Man duathlon, a tough race (10km run, 40km bike, 5km run) held in White Rock, New Mexico. Well, only six days after Atomic Man I was treading water at the start line of Ironman 70.3 St. George, in a rather beautiful part of Utah. Largely due to laziness, but partly because of eye problems, I hadn't been to the pool much. My cycling and running had seemed to be on top form though.

How did that race pan out? Well, the girl and I had driven over to St. George and were staying at a gorgeous B&B. (She likes the town and B&B so much that she wants me to do the race again.) The race was on Saturday and we headed over to Sand Hollow to get the bike set up in T1. Sand Hollow is perhaps the nicest-looking spot for a swim. EVER (I'll try to find a picture). When I was there on race day I was less thrilled. The water was only as cold as at Ironman Wales, but seemed to be affecting me more. My swim was as glacial as the water felt, and I was glad when my hands finally thawed enough for me to get my socks and shoes on, and then out on the bike.

They laid on a fantastic bike course too. It was what you could call an "honest" course -- plenty of climbing, some flat, good opportunities to catch some wind. Thankfully the wind was fairly minimal, and the heat of the day didn't arrive until much later. The second state park on the course (after Sand Hollow) was Snow Canyon, which is a beautiful hill climb that just gets steeper as you go. Of course, what goes up must come down and the descent from the top of Snow Canyon is fast and on good roads.

Then to the run. The baking hot, totally exposed run. Did I mention the giant hill that covers the first few miles? No? Well, it's there. Actually, the way out wasn't too bad. For a little under half the run I even found myself matching another guy stride-for-stride and we chatted while we ran. The only real negative part of the run was running back down the big hill towards the finish. I had a little pain in my left ankle whenever I tried to open up with some speed on the downhill. Maybe I hadn't fully recovered from my sprint finish at Atomic Man, maybe it was new. Regardless, I slowed a little and then added some speed for the flat last half mile to the finish line.
Total time: 5:16:02, for 299th position overall and 54th in my age group.

I have to say that I was unhappy with my transitions, and I have only myself to blame for a slow, tough swim. Overall the experience was overwhelmingly positive though and I wasn't unhappy with my race time for such a tough course. The course was nice and the atmosphere was great.

Three (very lazy) weeks later I was at the Jemez Mountain Trail Run with the girl. She'd been looking forward to the 13.4 mile trail "half-marathon", so we signed up for that together. Of course, I was under strict orders not to run with her, and to go ahead and race. The race is on technical, rocky trails and has about 2400ft of elevation gain (half of it coming in one monster climb). Given that, I was hoping to come in under 2 hours, and figured that under 2:10 was likely. The speed at the start of the race was amazing - I wasn't sure whether all of those runners knew what they were doing, but it turns out that most of them are just FAST. Anyway, I was doing well until about mile 3, which is when I first got stabbing, cramping pain. It was at the bottom of, and off to the side of, my abs. I had to walk several times before I hit mile 4, and a couple more times towards the end of the race. It was a hot day, in the end. Despite the cramps I finished in 2:18:06 (29th overall), a respectable time but I hadn't had a lot of fun out there.

Happily I turned my attention back to cycling! Next on my radar was the 41st annual Tour de Los Alamos, what they call "the oldest bicycle race in the southwest". For the last three years I've raced this in the Citizens category; the category for folks who aren't USA Cycling licensed racers. I've won the 30-39 age group every year (twice in a sprint finish) and had improved my overall position from 7th, to 3rd, to 2nd. This year I'd upped the ante by racing as a licensed rider, debuting at the Adoption Exchange Classic. The citizens' race is one loop of about 27 miles, plus a couple of miles of "neutral parade" through town. Category 4 and 5 riders get to race for two laps of the course!

My winter had seen me put a lot of hours in on the stationary trainer, using TrainerRoad and training videos from The Sufferfest, and it really felt like it had paid off. My riding was stronger than it had ever been, and my plan for the race was to stay near the front of the pack, and go with any breaks I thought had a chance of surviving. My (perhaps optimistic) goal was to finish in the top 5 - mostly because, dammit, that's MY loop. I've ridden the course probably approaching 100 times. The race started at a relatively gentle pace. In opposition to last year, I felt no compulsion to drive the pace on the opening hill to shed people before the long straight downhill past Bandelier National Monument. The plan was simple: sit in, stay close to the front, go with the breaks. So I was sitting in.

As we got into the neutral zone marking the descent into Ancho Canyon I was chatting to a guy I'd met at the Adoption Exchange Classic back in April. I remember saying "The climb out of here is where the attacks usually come", but I was expecting it on lap 2. Except as the hill got steeper I found myself in second place and the guy in front was pulling away. Quickly. I figured that if I caught him, he'd slow up and wait for the pack - break nullified. Except that didn't quite work...

I hadn't realised that I was also dropping the pack on the way out of the canyon, and as I was fading slightly, trying desperately to get into the leader's slipstream, I heard a laboured voice call out "C'mon, you're nearly there!" Glancing back I only saw two people, then a gap before the peloton. My legs took that as a good sign and I charged up to the leader, closely followed by my fellow chasers. The leader sat up slightly as he heard us catch him, likely figuring we were the peloton, so I called out "We've got a gap."

The next 40 miles were a torturous, yet oddly awesome, ride in a four-man paceline. The referee on the motorcycle kept pulling up alongside us to give us splits back to the chasing riders. "20 seconds", "40 seconds", "1 minute 15 seconds". Apparently while trying to chase us down, three more riders had gotten away from the peloton. There were a few terrible minutes where the chase group was pulling back some time, but we got to the final climb of the race with a 1:40 lead. And that was where the teamwork and cameraderie of the break dissolved. Our little group fractured and I was left in a battle for 3rd or 4th. When I got to the line I stopped, got off my bike, and managed a controlled collapse to the ground. Third place; the hardest and best executed race of my life. And a podium in my home town race! Best day of the year, right there.
Final stats: 3rd place (Senior Men's Category 5), time 2:39:21.

So then all I had to do was use the rest of my summer to switch back to triathlon training and get ready to race in Boulder. Easy, right?
(To be continued...)

Atomic Man Duathlon 2013

The Atomic Man duathlon is a local fixture and a must-do early season race. It's a run-bike-run format, with two distances available: Fat Man (10km-40km-5km) and Little Boy (4km-15km-4km). In case you're wondering about the names... yes, they are named after atomic bombs. The race is held in White Rock, New Mexico, which is a satellite town for Los Alamos (home of the Manhattan Project).

Transition towels for all participants!

This year I got involved with the planning of Atomic Man, and while I didn't contribute as much as some (or even most) committee members, I did enjoy some of the behind-the-scenes decision making and getting a much better insight into the job race directors have to do. One thing that doing this highlighted was the fact that my time management skills are not what they used to be, so I found myself missing training sessions to go to Atomic Man meetings. I also had some last minute travel come up, and with a week of illness in there too, I was starting to feel like my training was getting to be intermittent. Not my training for Atomic Man... no, even though Atomic Man was the USAT Rocky Mountain Region duathlon championships this year my sights were firmly set on a race 6 days later: Ironman 70.3 St. George!

About a week before Atomic Man I started an additional immunosuppressant (Tacrolimus), to supplement the CellCept I already take for my uveitis. Starting a new medication is always a little stressful, especially learning if/how it will affect my ability to train and race. The list of potential side effects is awesome: "Side effects can be severe and include infection, cardiac damage, hypertension, blurred vision, liver and kidney problems, tacrolimus nephrotoxicity, hyperkalemia, hypomagnesemia, hyperglycemia, diabetes mellitus, itching, lung damage, and various neuropsychiatric problems such as loss of appetite, insomnia, Posterior reversible encephalopathy syndrome, confusion, weakness, depression, cramps, neuropathy, seizures, tremors, and catatonia."

Fortunately, there didn't seem to be any noticeable side effects. Catatonia isn't really compatible with racing of any kind.

The weather on race morning was just about perfect. Considering we had snow for this race 2 years ago, having a not-too-chilly, sunny, windless day was just fantastic. Of course, this is New Mexico, so if it's cool at 8am it's going to be pretty toasty by 11am. I was hoping to finish faster than last year (where I went 2hrs 25min) and avoid the midday heat. If I'm honest I was hunting for a spot on the podium too! My "race plan", if you can call it that, was to run the 10km hard, absolutely hammer the bike, and then hang on for the last 5km.

Pre-race setup went well (for me, my road helmet ended up racing on a friend's head)... and I got a good spot in transition, right near the bike in/out, next to @FeWmnLiz (you can/should read her race report here and you can find out how my helmet placed higher than I did).

As we lined up to start the first run I put myself next to some guys that looked fast. We got off to a speedy start, largely because the start is downhill, then I settled into a comfortable pace. I could see the leaders slowly pulling away from me, but I was fairly sure I couldn't keep up so I stuck with the plan and hoped to pull back some time on the bike. After the first lap of the Fat Man run course, I was in 5th place and could see 4th ahead of me. The top 3 had disappeared in a puff of burning rubber. It's not a flat course and I could feel a little cramping in my side as I ran up the hill in the middle of the second lap. Very unusual -- I never cramp while running. Gritting my teeth and telling myself that if I ignored it the pain would go away seemed to work. As I got to the final 100yds before transition I started to slow slightly and I was overtaken by a good local runner who actually accelerated into transition.
My time for the first run: 40:11 -- a new PR!

Coming into T1

After a tolerable 54 second transition, I was out on the bike course in 7th place. The Atomic Man course is on roads I ride a lot. I know every bump and twist in those roads and I was determined to leave everything on the road in this. Within a couple of minutes I was already up to 5th place and pushing hard. About 5 minutes later I was overtaken by a really strong rider from out of town, and he was moving. Still, he was a bigger guy than me and I thought I might get some time back on the 6ish mile, 1000ft hill that makes Fat Man a real cyclist's course. As I got to less than a mile from the turnaround I was overtaken again -- "I never thought I'd see my bike from this angle" -- Clay, a local hero on the multisport scene and former pro-cyclist sold me his old TT bike last year and he'd caught me, on his way to the top bike split of the day. So, back in 7th and I was just about to see the leaders coming back from the turnaround.

By the 20 mile mark I'd hammered the downhill, my neck and shoulders were aching from being tucked so aggressively on a rough road, and I could just see another rider in front of me. I caught them a quarter-mile from transition and entered T2 in 6th place.

Just hitting the dismount line

My split for the bike: 1:14:56.

Despite having a fairly speedy T2, 39 seconds according to the provisional results, I came out of transition in 7th place again.

Losing a place in transition... again!

I managed to hang with the guy in 6th place for about a mile, but the backs of my legs felt like they were welded solid and I was working so hard just to lose ground slowly. I hadn't seen anyone else behind me on the bike so decided that I had time and should just run to hold my place. Of course, that was when I started being able to see a new figure in front of me... for the last two miles I was slowly catching him, and that helped me keep pushing. With about a quarter-mile to go I moved to just behind my new nemesis and stayed on his shoulder. When we hit the uphill finishing stretch the pace slowly crept up, then he made his move: the sprint was on!

Sprint finish with Gage, a top bloke and strong competitor

It felt like forever, but was really only 200 yards. I crossed the line, hurting and not looking back, 2 seconds ahead.
My split for the second run: 23:53 (Officially 24:32, but the T2 times have been rolled into run 2 for some reason)

I needed a little lie down after all that

And that was it. Sixth overall and second in my age group (M35-39).
Final time: 2 hours, 20 minutes and 34 seconds.
All I had to do now was recover in time for the next race.

Big thanks to Frank, our race director, and all the other committee members for planning. Special thanks to the volunteers. It's a small race, but it still takes a lot of people and a lot of work to make it happen. Best of all, it's an awesome race and it's right on my doorstep.

Reflections on an Omnium

So it's been all quiet on the blogging front recently. Well, last weekend I rode in the Adoption Exchange Classic, a road omnium in Albuquerque. What's an omnium? It's a points-based, multi-event cycling competition. Typically omniums (omnia?) are competed at a velodrome, but a road omnium has all three "disciplines" of road cycling. The Adoption Exchange Classic is fairly typical and had the following events:

1. A 20km time trial (TT)
2. A criterium (aka crit)
3. A road race

I was competing in the Men's category 5 race. That's basically the lowest category of licensed racers, and to get upgraded to cat 4 you need to get 10 mass start races under your belt. So far, my bike racing career has included 3 road races only. So I'm stuck in cat 5 for several races more. The omnium gives me another 2 mass starts -- TTs don't count here as they're individual races.

In the cat 5 omnium, the crit was a 30 minute race around the NAPA speedway (a motor racing circuit). The road race was 31.5 miles (after a 1.5 mile neutral parade).

So how did it all go? I'm pretty happy to be honest.
The weekend was quite windy, but didn't get up past about 20mph, and that was only on Sunday. For the TT, which was an out-and-back course, there was a little headwind on the way out. There was also a sustained climb back from the turnaround point... about 2 miles at nearly 4%. Between that and the chipseal road, not a super-fast course. It was also 13 miles, not 12.42 (20km). However, my sub-standard time of 35-something put me 6th in my category. Next time I would ensure slightly more sleep and getting to the race start earlier, so I had more time for a proper warm-up.

6th is more important than the time, as in an omnium the winner is determined by who has the lowest number of points after all events. The number of points you get is equal to your position in each event.

A couple of hours after the TT we were at the speedway for the crit. That's basically a twisty-turny race where a bunch of people on bikes ride too close to each other, too fast, into corners, for a set time.  Anyone who gets lapped is out of the race. Our circuit was about 1 mile and our average speed during the race was about 24.5mph. My primary aim was to hang on to the front pack and not crash. My secondary aim was to finish (i.e. not get lapped).

I did not get lapped.
Actually, this is where the points I scored don't reflect my position. More than half of the field got lapped out and the officials were having a hard time keeping track. I finished well off the back of the main pack, but with a few people behind me. However, I initially was scored at 100 points, which is a nice way of saying DNF. I appealed and was given a place... 23 points, making me the official last finisher. I think it was really 16th or 17th, but thankfully it makes no difference to my final placing.
About 10 minutes after the race I noticed that my front tyre was soft. Not long after it was totally flat. There's a lot of debris on the corners of a racetrack, so I'm guessing I ran over something sharp. Thankfully my tyre stayed sufficiently inflated for me to finish, although it may explain why my last couple of laps felt so hard. No, wait, it really was about the hardest ride I've ever done. EVER. Regardless of the pressure in my tyres.

Still, at this point my Saturday was done, so it was back home so the gf could get to her roller-derby bout, then back to Albuquerque to sleep... Next morning: the road race!

I like road racing. I actually thought this would be my strongest event, despite being a triathlete and primarily training for time trials. We had a full field again (cat 5 is limited to 50 riders) and we set off at about 9:15am. The ride was uneventful, relaxing even, until about 8 miles in... where we hit Heartbreak Hill. It's short, but steep, and the field fell apart. The leaders had made a small gap before the hill and disappeared right there. I was with a couple of people at the top of the hill and we formed a 3-man paceline to try to chase down the leaders. At one point that went up to 4, then down to 3, 2 and finally just me pushing ahead. Near mile 19... right turn, straight into a 20mph headwind. 10 minutes later I was caught by a 7-man paceline, so I jumped on the back. After sitting out for two turns (to recover), I took my turn to pull every few minutes and we must've been going twice the speed I could do by myself into that wind.

The paceline lost 1 person a few miles from the finish, but otherwise that was where we all stayed, slowly closing on the leaders, but not fast enough.

At 1km out, people stopped taking their turn to pull...
At 500m out, everyone got really twitchy... the paceline was now more of a loose pack.
At 200m out the pack exploded into a sprint.
Apparently I can't sprint very well. I finished in the middle of my pack, putting me 11th in the road race and 7th in the Men's cat 5 omnium.

My best position was in the TT, but I think my best performance was in the road race. I definitely worked hardest in the crit, and learned the most there.
I highly recommend bike racing for anyone who loves to ride. It's super fun, social and a much better workout than any solo or group ride. Races also require thinking, which is a cool extra dimension you don't get in training, or even TTs.

(I'll update this with pics when I get the chance... watch out for sexy, sexy bicycles!)

Endurance training with autoimmune disease

A lofty title for today's post indeed. There seems to be precious little information on the web for endurance athletes (or those who want to compete in endurance sports) with autoimmune disease. I can't provide much general insight, but I can share my experience.

My own slice of autoimmune joy is uveitis. My eyes have an inflammation in the middle eye, which causes swelling on the retina. This leads to severely compromised central vision when the swelling is not controlled. Mine is controlled by slow-release implants of corticosteroids that get injected into my eyeballs every 4 months (ish). In an effort to beat the disease into remission I'm also on a regimen of immuno-suppressants (currently CellCept, usually used for transplant recipients).

Right now I'm training for my first big race of the season: Ironman 70.3 St. George. It's a race consisting of a 1.2 mile swim, 56 mile bike, 13.1 mile run. As you might imagine, this sort of distance requires a fair bit of training. Just to give a little better idea of how much training someone might do for this type of event (and I am trying to get closer to the front of the field in this sport), here's how much training I've done so far in 2013 (and I'm currently starting to build my training volume).
Bike: Approximately 30 hours. Largely spent on my indoor trainer due to weather. A good fraction of this has been high intensity training.
Run: Assuming I run as planned later today, about 14 hours. This has been split about 9 hours trail running (mostly in snow), 4 hours road running and 1 hour on the treadmill. My running is lagging a little behind my plan.
Swim: Well, least said soonest mended. I just started swimming again after my Ironman triathlon last year.

How does autoimmune disease affect my training?
 - Most of the time my vision doesn't interfere substantially with training or racing.
 - When I have injections in the eye I can't swim for 3 days afterwards. Last year I also had 2 eye surgeries that kept me from training for longer.
 - Immunosuppressants have the biggest impact on my training. Methotrexate (which I no longer take) gave me nausea that made quality training impossible for 1-2 days per week. It feels like I'm tolerating the CellCept better, but it occasionally messes with my GI tract. This means that I have days where long training sessions are impossible, and I also find it hard to eat sufficient calories to sustain my workouts. Yesterday I had to stop a 1.75 hour ride on the trainer early, after taking two breaks.
 - Immune suppression, well, suppresses the immune system. So does intense exercise. This makes me susceptible to catching whatever is floating around out there. Thanks to a good diet and some healthy paranoia I've been able to stay healthy for the last couple of years with only one real dose of man-flu.
 - Alcohol. This isn't highly recommended for folks taking immunosuppressants. I got out of the drinking habit when I started on methotrexate and I'm typically having one drink a month these days. It's brilliant. No hangovers. More of my calories are nutrionally valuable. I just feel better. I can train better. My mind feels generally sharper. In this respect starting systemic medication has been awesome for my training.
 - Muscle growth and recovery from workouts... these are made more difficult by my medication. Sometimes I just don't have the strength that I know my muscles can provide. I don't feel weak, per se, I just can't hit my potential some days. Recovering, like healing from wounds, takes longer than it used to. It still happens, but I'm still getting used to just how slow it can be at times.
 - Blood monitoring. I actually have a doctor watching the state of my health closely, and I get blood tests done every month or two. I know what my body is doing, long term, and I have a doctor watching it all. This is surprisingly useful, if you take a little time to understand what all the tests mean.
 - Mental health. This is a biggie. When I see my vision slipping away in one eye as my condition flares up, it makes staying positive about everything harder. It makes work harder, since I need my vision to work, and that raises stress levels. When I'm coping with side-effects from medication, same story. Mental toughness and the ability to stay focused and positive under extreme conditions are vital for endurance athletes. I just get more opportunities to develop that toughness than average.

In short, dealing with autoimmune disease often includes "performance-reducing" measures. By accepting that changes will have to be made to get the best out of your body it's totally possible to participate in, and be competitive at, endurance sports. Listening to your body is key, and training has to be smart. At the moment my body doesn't respond as quickly as it used to to training, so I have to think more about how to manage the physical stress I place on my body to get the training I need. There are no shortcuts, and I'm still learning just what I can get away with.

There are some real inspirations out there too... folks dealing with autoimmune diseases that are competitive sportspeople with great attitudes.
Some well-known sportspeople with auto-immune diseases:
Sanya Richards-Ross, sprinter; Venus Williams, tennis player; Phil Mickelson, golfer; Novac Djokovic, tennis player
Triathlete Angela Durazo also keeps a great blog about racing with rheumatoid arthritis. Check it out.

2013 Race Calendar

So what does 2013 look like? Well, this isn't set in stone yet, but it is the plan...
As always, life can (and most likely will) get in the way of some of this and so the plan is open to change. 

April: 

 - Adoption Exchange Classic Omnium

 - Atomic Man duathlon

May:

 - St. George 70.3

 - Jemez Mountain Trail Run 1/2 marathon

June:

 - Billy the Kid Tombstone Olympic Tri

 - Run the Caldera trail 1/2 marathon

 - Tour de Los Alamos road race

 - Storrie Lake Olympic Tri (maybe... depends on travel schedule, could be replaced by Mona Vale Cold Water Classic 1.2km ocean swim)

July:

 - Taos Gran Fondo

 - Cochiti Lake Olympic Tri

August:

 - Boulder 70.3

 - Los Alamos Triathlon (Sprint)

 - The 505 Triathlon (1mi swim, 40mi bike, 9.5mi run)

September:

 - XTerra Dread Mon Tri

 - Trinada del Muerto (70.3)

And a fall marathon with the girlfriend...

Then I'm going to sleep until there's enough snow to take the board out. Or take the car out for a track day. Or something that doesn't involve swim, bike or run.

But for now, Happy New Year to all! All the best for 2013.

2012 in summary

This has been quite a year. It's hard to know where to start to summarize it...

So here's a picture of some of my haul from events this year:

So what were my race highlights?
Obviously doing the toughest Ironman course in the world as my first is a highlight, especially having raised a good chunk of change for Olivia's Vision. Going under 5 hours at Boulder 70.3 is probably the result of the season. To be honest though, performing pretty consistently well through my packed season is marvellous. Not bad for a first season dedicated to triathlon, even though 2011 was my first tri season it was more about cycling until I decided I wanted to do a half-ironman...

So this season:
Atomic Man duathlon (10km run, 40km bike, 5km run): 8th overall, 7th male, 4th M35-39.
Run the Caldera, trail 1/2 marathon: 24th overall, 23rd male, 14th M30-39
 - in 7th place at 7 miles before injuring foot...
Tour de Los Alamos (27 mile road race, Citizens class): 2nd overall, 1st M30-39
Storrie Lake olympic triathlon: 23rd overall, 5th M35-39
Cochiti Lake olympic triathlon: 14th overall, 3rd M35-39
 - PODIUM!
Ironman 70.3 Boulder: 192nd overall, 33rd M35-39  TIME: 4:59:30
 - Swim: 35, Bike: 2:33, Run 1:43
Los Alamos triathlon (20km bike, 400m swim, 5km run): 6th overall, 4th elite
 - yup, got my first Elite wave start!
Ironman Wales: 453rd overall, 96th M35-39   TIME: 12:15:10
 - stuck on small chainring for last 50 miles of the bike
 - windy, hilly, cold and absolutely fantastic
 - Swim: 1:07, Bike: 6:55 (grrr), Run: 3:46

I also got two century tours in... the Santa Fe century and the Day of the Tread century. Sadly I had to miss my favourite tour - the Enchanted Circle century.

Also in 2012:
Continuing uveitis and cystoid macular edema
Right eye, lens replacement (cataract surgery #1)
Left eye, lens replacement (cataract surgery #2)
Several slow-release corticosteroid implants in each eye
Chondritis on left ear
Countless injections of immuno-suppressant methotrexate (now thankfully discontinued)
Giant horse-pills of CellCept (immunosuppressant)

Hopefully the new drugs will push my uveitis into remission, and with it the macular edema that causes most of my vision problems. With the new lenses, that'll mean clear, cataract-free vision. Okay, so I'll need some YAG-lasering of the eyes to clean up the new lenses sometime, and no medication is 100% side-effect free, but I'm hopeful. 2012 went well, despite two eye surgeries and copious performance-reducing drugs.


So now it's time for that christmas thing. So have a good one. Eat, drink, be merry and watch out for zombies...

Horse Pills and Off-Season

As usual I've left this too long between postings, but I'm back with new medication, new goals and new off-season training fun...

Horse pills

Apart from local treatment for my vision problems, which usually involves some sort of injection in the eye, I'm also taking immunosuppressants. Previously, I was injecting myself with some nasty yellow stuff called methotrexate. It was/is used for various cancer treatments, as well as autoimmune disease. In my case, it also led to significant nausea as my dose was increased. Unfortunately, it still didn't seem to do anything for me (apart from giving me a good 24-36 hours of feeling sick each week).

No more! Now I have giant pills to swallow. My doctor has taken me off the evil yellow stuff and started me on CellCept - a drug usually used to suppress the immune system of organ transplant recipients. Three weeks in and all is fairly good. In fact, I got a new steroid implant in my right eye this week and the vision cleared up in just a couple of days. If I didn't know better I'd say that the new drugs might be helping already!

The biggest problem so far is that I have to take the (giant) pills on an empty stomach: no food for 2-3 hours before the pill, no food for an hour afterwards. Really? When in the day do I go 3-4 hours without food? Needless to say, I'm having to adjust my feeding schedule and it's going to be tricky fueling big training days with this constraint. Still, if it means remission then I'm all for it.

Off-season

The best laid plans of mice and men... So that early March marathon? Not happening. The girl was the driving force there and she had to interrupt training for a number of weeks. We talked about it and came to the conclusion that she could train to get around the marathon, but it might be a miserable day running a marathon under-trained. So now she's committed to doing a marathon in 2013, but later in the year.

How does this affect my plans? Well, it means that I won't build my run distance as much over winter. Since my last run was 6 miles on snowy trails I can't say that's all bad.

Bike training is going well though. It's officially too icky and cold for outdoor rides, so I'm on the trainer three times a week. TrainerRoad is my new best friend. If you haven't heard of it, and you like to ride bikes, then you should check it out.

Swim training has been patchy, but I did another freestyle clinic with the excellent folks at Santa Fe Aquatics Club and feel like I made some good progress. Now I just have to spend some time in the water to work on really cementing my improved stroke. It's just so hard to motivate myself to swim in winter.

New-season

I have goal races! Of course, I haven't signed up for anything, but that'll come.

My season will open on April 28th with a race that I'm helping out with this year: the Atomic Man duathlon (2012 race report), which is the USAT Rocky Mountain Regional Duathlon Championship. There's a great local race series put on by Chasing3 too...
However, my big 3 for the year (subject to me changing my mind):
1. Ironman 70.3 St. George, Utah (US Pro Championships) -- May 3rd
2. Tour de Los Alamos, New Mexico (this year's race report) -- TBD (June 16th?)
3. Ironman 70.3 Boulder, Colorado (this year's race report)

Then a marathon in September/October time with the girl to round out the season. I'll make a decision closer to the actual race season whether or not I'll be racing bikes in Cat 5 in 2013, aiming to cat up ASAP. Question of the season: can I get fast enough at 70.3 to qualify for the World Championship?

Winter is where I will lay my foundation. I think I stand to gain the most from investing time in the bike.  By the end of January I should see my bike fitness way up on my lazy, couch-potato, post-Ironman form and hopefully start seeing real gains from structured training too. You can track my efforts on my trainerroad page.

New Challenges

So the USA, the country I live in, made it's choices yesterday about how to handle the challenges of the next 4 years. Being too foreign to vote here, I found myself wanting to make choices about something and my mind naturally drifted to my new challenges.

2012 saw a lot of challenges faced... this year I had cataract surgery, on both eyes. I've spent much of the year with decent vision in only one eye. I've been dealing with the effects of drugs to suppress my immune system. The biggest challenge of the year took up most of my time, which was racing at Ironman Wales. Training for the challenge of a 2.4 mile swim, 112 mile bike and 26.2 mile run takes time - a lot of time. Knowing that the course in Wales is one of the hardest out there certainly provided motivation. Best of all, I got to use this challenge to raise money for Olivia's Vision; they're a UK-based charity that provide support for sufferers of uveitis (many of whom are children), they also provide specialist training for doctors and support research.

So what now?

Well, first of all, I've been sufficiently lazy since the Ironman that I have to do something. Fortunately the girl has stepped in with a plan for the winter! She wants to run her first marathon in early March; she has the race picked out and is starting her training. Oh, and she wants me to do it too.
So I'm running my first stand-alone marathon in March and I get to finish and cheer the girl over the line for her first marathon, which takes care of the next 16 weeks of training. Along the way I'm going to try to throw some snowshoeing and snowboarding in as cross-training.

From March 2013 onward I still have a blank calendar. I still want to race triathlon, and I'm looking forward to improving my ranking - both in the New Mexico open water tri series and in the USAT age group rankings. There's a choice to make about the Tour de Los Alamos too. I've won my age group in the Citizens category for the last 3 years, improving my overall position from 8th to 2nd. Do I man up and cat up, as the race director tells me I should, racing with a USAC license in the Category 4/5 Men's race? I want to do another half-Ironman too, so I've choices to make there.

None of this seems like a BIG challenge. I've done all of this before, to some degree. Well, after Boulder 70.3 I think I can improve to the point where qualifying for the Ironman 70.3 World Championships in Las Vegas is possible! I covered the distance in under 5 hours at Boulder and I know I could have been faster. All it needed was a taper into the race and not sandbagging the run because I was "training for Wales". Can I get over 20 minutes faster? How about 30 minutes? That's the sort of improvement I'll need to get to Vegas. Now that's a challenge.

It probably won't happen this year, though I think I can get close. The other thing that's missing is a cause. Sure, endurance racing is kinda selfish and I do get a lot out of it, but I want to have something to race for too. I'll still support Olivia's Vision, but since everything will be in the US this year I want to do something here. Stay tuned for an update - I have a good idea about who I want to support, and when I have a plan I'll put it in words so there's nowhere for me to hide.

What are you challenging yourself with?

- Steve

Kona Inspired...

So I'm sat in front of my laptop watching the Ironman World Championship in Kona. A new feature this year is the "Kona Inspired" athlete programme. The idea is to give people with unusual stories the chance to race at Kona... these were open submissions, judged by the public. The stories have been fantastic and the people chosen really are inspirational. This year the chosen few are mostly survivors - survivors of cancers, childhood abuse, severe burns - but some are representing others, including a firefighter competing for firefighters affected by cancer, running the marathon in full firefighting gear...

These people are fantastic. They are winners before reaching the start line and I hope the short segments getting airtime give viewers a window into their cause.

Of course, this also has me reflecting on my situation. It's been a little over 3 years since I heard of uveitis and started learning first-hand about its effects. Since my first ironman nearly 4 weeks ago I've had a lot of time off work (long story) and have been really quite inactive - almost to the point of going cabin crazy! I've really been acutely aware of how my body is reacting to the increased dose of methotrexate that I've been on for a couple of months now. The main side-effect I've noticed is the nausea. Oh yes, the nausea is plentiful and was really bad for the last two weeks. There have been other ailments that have popped up, all of which can be associated with a compromised immune system. To be sure, none of it  has been serious, but it's all a strain on the system physically and mentally. Sadly I noticed a little blur appearing in my left eye again today... so it looks like the methotrexate isn't doing much for my uveitis (despite giving my body a hard time).

So what's next? Well, I'm out of the country at the moment - so no access to my usual doctors. In fact, I'm not even in my home country, so I can't just walk-in somewhere and get free care. I'm going to go to a clinic in the next day or two and pay good money for some medical attention on the minor stuff (most urgently what I think might be an abscess on my left ear - ugh). Then I may have to send some email to my uveitis specialist to ask about the medication. I'm inclined to just discontinue use so I don't have to worry about side-effects any more. When I get back to the US I suspect that my medication will have to change. The next option discussed was a different immuno-suppressant called CellCept. I have more reading to do...

There is a silver lining here. I've found that the dosage of methotrexate is too high for my body to tolerate. More importantly I've found that the methotrexate isn't beating my uveitis down. Moving to a different strategy is one step closer to remission...

Ironman Wales - 12:15:10

The Welsh dragon does indeed have a mighty roar! The organizers were billing Ironman Wales as the toughest Ironman course in the world (tougher than Lanzarote, but not the same league as Norseman) and it wasn't hard to see why. It was a hard day, not without problems, but it was ultimately rewarding and I'm happy with my results.

Pre race: my alarm was set for 4:45, but I woke up at 3 and tried to snooze until the alarm went off. Breakfast was a glass of Emergen-C, coffee, 2 slices of toast with marmalade, a bowl of corn flakes and half a Yorkie bar. Then I got my stuff ready and headed over to transition.
There was a procession from transition, through town and down to the beach. The crowds were already out in force. At high tide there's not much room on Tenby's North beach and it took some time to get everyone on the beach for the start. Time for the Welsh national anthem, followed by AC/DC’s Thunderstruck to get the heart going, and then the cannon went off to mark the start of the race.


Swim: The course layout meant that people were bunched up for the first few hundred metres with no chance to spread out at all. Then it was so congested at the first right turn buoy that we were treading water around it. Otherwise, the swim was great... Water temp 16.9°C (62.4F)  and only a little wetsuit rub on the side of the neck.  The 2nd lap was much easier and I felt like I could really relax into the day. Swim time: 1:07:59

T1: Transition was 1.2km from North beach. The first task was running up the beach, then up the steep zig-zagging walkway (picking up the spare shoes on the way) and jogging to transition. The transition tent was crowded and completely chaotic. It took a while to find space to get my stuff out of my transition bag and get ready for the ride. One gel here, to get the blood sugar back up. I even had a quick chat with a guy filming for TV (off-camera), then it was out the door and onto the bike leg. T1 time: 16:55

Bike: Well, this didn’t quite go according to plan. Given the circumstances I’m actually happy with the result, but the circumstances weren’t ideal. I’ll get to that though...
Wales is a two-loop course, with a total elevation gain of about 8000ft. The first loop is longer and starts out heading West into the prevailing coastal winds and turns to come back East by the town of Angle. The second loop is basically the more hilly part of the first loop, repeated. On the way to Angle I felt like I was making reasonable time and wasn’t pushing too hard. The wind was pushing me around a bit, but I was glad I had the TT bike to reduce the effect of the wind. I was riding on Zipp 404 wheels, which didn’t cause me any trouble even though I’m very light. Anyway, out near Angle I changed up to the big chainring and felt a frayed strand of cable pop out and jab me in the finger. Not good! Fast-forward to mile 62 and another change to the big ring -- SNAP!! So I swore, I stopped, I tried to work out how I could fix it. In the end all I could do was get out the multi-tool and dial the derailleur out as far as possible so that there was the least amount of chain rub, even then the rub was pretty egregious in the smaller cogs on the cassette. So, 50 miles in the small chainring... I’d lost nearly 10 minutes to roadside repairs and I couldn’t get much speed up for the remainder of the ride.

Not that the mechanical was my only problem on the bike: I did get the nutrition slightly wrong. My plan was to get 4-5 bottles of sports drink (2 on bike, 2-3 on course), but I was clearly overdoing the liquids and had to stop several times. So I started drinking less and then I obviously wasn’t getting enough calories. I started to feel quite drained and needed more solid food. Eating revived me, but my on-board stash of 1 Clif bar, 1 powerbar, 5 gels and a bag of powerbar chews really wasn’t quite enough. What I’d change? I’d use a “bento box” on the top tube with extra food in it. I’d pack more than I anticipated needing, just in case.
The highlight of the bike course for me was the last part of the second loop -- the steep hills in Wiseman’s Bridge and Saundersfoot were a joy to ride, especially in the wet on that second lap when many people were struggling. To me, those hills represented nearing the end of the ride and were a rare chance prove to myself that I was (despite the ever lengthening time on the bike) a strong enough biker for this course. Bike time: 6:55:50

T2: I wasn’t tremendously motivated for a fast transition here - I walked my bike to the rack, then I walked to the tent (jogging seemed pointless). I also had a little trouble removing my gloves and arm-warmers, which were soaking. Full-finger gloves had been a very wise last-minute choice here. Anyway, one more gel in, one into the pocket and then I was out onto the run course. T2 time: 8:01

Run: Well, I started out feeling brilliant. As soon as I left T2 and started running the day regained some purpose. My first 5.2 miles happened in 37:23, which was good considering I was actually trying to pace myself (working from heart rate) but everything just felt so EASY. And then, quite suddenly, it didn’t. Mile 6.5, just a little into lap 2, and I was walking. It wasn’t even up the main hill yet, I just couldn’t run or even bring myself to try. I wanted to have a little sit down (and maybe a brief weep), and if there hadn’t been so many people I might have. Fortunately it didn’t last, and whatever I was telling myself in my head must’ve worked. I ran up the main hill out to New Hedges and decided that it was a nutritional problem, so the plan changed from “eat on the run” to “walk every aid station and eat the Ritz crackers”, which are brilliant washed down with Pepsi. Crackers and Pepsi is a marathon miracle, if you ask me. I’d never even thought of it before, and the pepsi wasn’t flat, but it was AWESOME. My pace evened out after that and my new strategy gave me the strength to ignore my body as it told me that my right achilles hurt, and that my left knee ached. As I passed mile 20 it really felt like a shuffle, though photos show what looks like a run, even in those dark times. Still, after collecting the pink band to mark my final lap on the course I started feeling a weight lift and there was a fresh flood of endorphins. I chatted to a fellow finisher as we turned onto the Esplanade for our run in, he said he wanted to enjoy the moment and slowed to really savour the finish. I heard my nephew calling for a sprint finish and did my best to oblige. Run time: 3:46:25

It seems that the run may have been slightly short, but to be honest, I’m not sure I care. I logged over 3300ft of vertical on the run and the bike wasn’t exactly a walk in the park. This was a tough course. Sure, it was my first Ironman, but I know tough conditions and terrain when I see them. The fastest bikers would’ve missed the worst of the rain and only gotten wet on the run course. The bike course was steep on the uphills and twisty on the downhills. There were plenty of spills once the roads got a good soaking.
Anyway, total time: 12:15:10. 96th in M35-39 and 453rd overall. 

At the race briefing we were told 1650 athletes, and I’ve since heard that there were only 1200 finishers though that is just rumour. Certainly a lot of people missed the bike cutoff. I’m looking forward to seeing the final results. But first, I’m looking forward to a rest. I’ve contracted (Iron)man-flu and don’t want to ride a bike for at least another week.


This race was organised very well, the local support was utterly brilliant and despite hating it at times, I loved the experience. It’s actually helped to remind me just how great people are. So I’m glad I did it. I’m glad I met the racers and the supporters. I’m glad I got to raise money for Olivia’s Vision and I. AM. AN. IRONMAN!

Race Week!

So the nerves are definitely building up... Ironman Wales is on Sunday and it's looming like, umm, some giant terrifying thing. I went for a swim on Monday, which felt good. I ran yesterday, which felt nice and easy (despite being fairly fast). Then today I committed the cardinal sin of adjusting the bars on my bike -- the maxim "nothing new on race day" being violated here -- and so that it wasn't quite so unknown I went out for a ride in the Hampshire countryside.
It was cold, but that helped me sort out what I'll be wearing on Sunday. There were a few exposed patches too, where a few gusts of wind started to build my fears that the weekend will be a windy one. The long range forecasts were looking good two days ago. Yesterday they started to diverge and a couple of forecasts suggested that the weekend might actually be quite a windy one. :-(

All I have to do between now and the race is get to Tenby, set my race gear up, and sort out my nutrition. Oh, and work out how to stop worrying, because I think it might be counter-productive.

On the bright side, two things are making me happy:
1. Despite still having about a million eye drops a day to do, I'm feeling good about my eyes as the left (recently upgraded) is still inflammation-free.
2. Fundraising for Olivia's Vision is going well and I really appreciate the support. No matter how hard it gets out there, I will keep going and I will earn every penny for Olivia's Vision.

Cataract surgery #2

Less than 20 days to Ironman Wales, but I just had my second cataract surgery. My previous op was back in January, and I "reviewed" the procedure here. Well, second time around was an easier experience. The anaethesia wasn't as uncomfortable and I was less nervous about the surgery (but more nervous about the anaesthesia). I'm one day post-op now, and I'm sat at home passing time since I'm not allowed to lift anything heavy, do impact exercises, or swim. So nothing fun then... at least I'm off work again today, I think I'd have left with a headache by mid-morning!

So how did this one compare to the last? It was nearly 8 hours before I could open my eye and not feel nauseous from the wonky vision. When the muscles that control the eye are put to sleep your eye can rotate to a different angle, making the world in that eye rotate. Add the blurriness from the operation and the dilation, then throw in a healthy measure of "new glasses" feeling and you're approaching the evening after the surgery.

One decent, but not stellar, night's sleep later... I'm actually seeing a lot better. There's occasional double vision and there are certain distances that just don't work, right now. That should improve. My right eye was the one done previously, and that's set for long distance. The left eye (done yesterday) was supposed to be set to focus about 20 inches (50cm) away. That was so I'd have good vision for computer work, the dashboard while driving, cooking and food prep. Then I could have reading glasses for close-up work. Well, I'm currently focussing at about 8-10 inches, which wasn't the plan. One reason I didn't want this (which is the "normal" monovision they give people), is the larger difference between what the eyes can actually see. It takes a while to get used to it, but it's not a problem for people who don't have other eye issues. For me, if I have another flare-up of macular edema in one eye then I'm essentially down to only one useful eye. In this scenario having extreme short-sightedness in one eye is kind of pointless.

There are options though:
1. Within about 6 weeks of cataract surgery you can have the lens replaced. Much later and the little pocket that the lens sits in will have "shrink-wrapped" the new lens and the surgery is less advised.
The real downside here is that it's yet more eye surgery.
2. After a couple of months the vision can be corrected using laser refractive surgery. The downsides here are that healing takes at least as long as the cataract surgery and that the vision needs to be "stable" before the surgery. For uveitis sufferers, a "stable" eye is often a dream. My eyes have periods of medicated stability, typically lasting 3 months, during which time I switch from worrying about distorted vision to worrying about glaucoma.

Anyway, in general the vision is somewhat improved. This time didn't feel quite like the magic bullet of the first cataract surgery, but given time it should settle in and I'll know for sure how the vision is going to end up. Then I can make decisions about lasering the eye to fix my focus.

For now, it's time to continue resting up and making sure my eye recovers quickly. Then I can get back to the serious business of tapering for Ironman Wales, where I'm hoping to raise money for Olivia's Vision. I'd love people to check out their website and maybe sponsor my Ironman on their behalf...

Los Alamos Triathlon

Yesterday was the Los Alamos triathlon, a local sprint race (20km bike, 400m swim, 5km run). Today marks exactly 4 weeks to Ironman Wales.

The Los Alamos triathlon last year was my second multisport event and my first triathlon. It was nice to be able to return to it this year, see all the new people I've met through the sport and have a great race. The LA tri is run in an unusual order: bike, swim, run. Since it's a pool swim, this is done to spread people out by the time they hit the water. Also on offer for the first time this year was a time-trial start for the "elites". I got talked into signing up for this group, so I gathered with the fast guys and gals at the start and waited my turn to leave. One every 30 seconds... a friend snapped me about 50 yards down the road from the start (that's why I'm the only person in the picture, I'm really not that fast).

Waiting around at the start, it was pretty chilly, so it took a while for the legs to warm up. Training for the ironman distance doesn't really emphasize the short efforts, so I think I may have under-paced the ride. On the other hand, riding harder might have bought me another minute at the expense of time on the run...

I got back and had a minor nightmare unclipping at the dismount line. Left foot, out. Right foot... come on right foot... On my first attempted dismount I started to lift the bike with my right foot and had to give a good sharp twist of the foot to get out of the pedal and off the bike. Next step, almost running past my rack at transition! Anyway, it wasn't that bad, but it was good practice at not getting flustered and practicing "less haste, more speed". So then I was off to the pool, for my worst swim of the year. My arms felt like lead, my legs would only kick slowly and the water felt like hot treacle. A swim that should normally take me seven minutes and change without pushing too hard took over 8 and a half minutes. Maybe some of it was the residual of Thursday's 2 mile swim session, but frankly I don't think that was it. Sometimes you just have a bad day, and I apparently can't swim after cycling.

But I can run (apparently)! Once I got out of the pool I was back to zip through transition (well, it felt speedy, but it was longer than T1) and see whether I could catch anyone on the run, having been overtaken in the pool. Well, one personal best 5k run later (18:49) I was crossing the finish line having shown an improvement in all three events over last year, for a final time of 1:05:16. Even better, it was enough to take 6th overall! Signing up for the elite wave took me out of contention for an age group prize, but I don't need the glassware and it was super fun to do the time-trial start.

So now back to my regularly scheduled training... I'm looking forward to the week after next, where I start my taper (yay, less training!) and get my left eye operated on (yay, vision!). Then it's all recovery until the big day in Pembrokeshire, Wales.

(You can still sponsor me and raise money for Olivia's Vision, a uveitis charity. For details, see this old blog entry.)

4:59:30

Since my last blog entry I've done two races, I've had 5 doctor's visits and one job interview. That kind of thing can really take it out of you...

Anyway, as a result of the 5 doctor'svisits I have been proclaimed healthy (apart from my failing eyeballs) and I have cataract surgery scheduled at the end of the month. Yup, cataract surgery two-and-a-half weeks before Ironman Wales. Still, after a rough couple of weeks where my vision was frighteningly bad I can see again! Okay, only one is is really useful, but cataract surgery should bring that up to two. :-)

I'm still waiting to hear on my job interview, and between opthalmologists, rheumatologists, cataract surgeons and optometrists I'm totally over doctors right now. But training and racing is still good...

So what races? Well, there was the Cochiti Lake triathlon, which was a lot of fun, and Ironman 70.3 Boulder.

Cochiti Lake tri is a feature on the local calendar, and I can see why. It's a nice lake swim, followed by a relatively tough bike (nearly half is on bone-jarring chip-seal, and it has a couple of small hills to slow you down) and then a run that starts with a steep hill, continues on false flats and then bakes you alive in the heat. Did I mention that it was awesome? Okay, so there were some timing SNAFUs, but they all got sorted eventually. Also, by my GPS the bike was about a mile long and the run was 0.3 miles short. Everything went as expected really... the bike was a couple of minutes slower than I would have liked, but my run was a 10km PB at 40:42! Of course, the course was slightly short, and I don't run 10km races very often. I'll take it though. It got me my first podium of the year - 3rd in the M35-39 age group, with a total time of 2:27:51.

Now, the highlight of the last month: Boulder 70.3!
I'd been really looking forward to this. Technically it was a "training race". It was my second ever half-ironman, fifth ever triathlon and the litmus test for my Ironman Wales training. It was also to be my redemption for falling apart doing Ironman 70.3 Austin last year.

Boulder is a super-cool town. I have friends there, so accommodation and good times were sorted. The girl was my driver for the weekend as my eyes were in pretty bad shape, and she was an awesome support team and cheerleader.
The race itself was well-organised. It was a lot more low-key than Austin, but everything was done well. The volunteers were brilliant and the porta-loo to athlete ratio was good (except on the run course).

I'll get pictures and put them up some time, but this race had me nervous and I'll explain why. There's a mantra that applies to many sports, and triathlon is no exception: "Nothing new on race day". I broke that rule in several ways: new bike - I bought a used TT bike less than a week before and had only 60 miles on it by race day; new wheels - there was a sweet deal on used Zipp 404s that I couldn't pass up, so I picked them up in Boulder on Saturday and raced them on Sunday; new goggles - probably not so bad, but I have a collection of goggles that fog, so I bought new goggles (a brand/model I've not worn before). I'm sure there's more, but you get the point. Race day was full of surprises.

I actually warmed up before the swim. This is something I've never done before any oopen water events. Still, it felt good and gave me a bit of confidence in my new goggles. They worked like a champ and I could actually see well enough with my blurry eye to sight for the buoys and stay on course. The water was around 70-71F and was good until I got a slight stitch, probably from the pretzels I was snacking on before the start. Swim Time: 35:08

Dolphin diving out of the shallows, I jogged up the chute towards T1 looking for people I knew. I heard a shout of "Go Bike Works" and failed to see who shouted. Anyway, thanks to that unknown supporter (I was wearing a tri top from Bike Works on Hawaii's Big Island). My plan was for leisurely transitions, to practice for Wales. So I dried my feet, pulled on socks. Next step, sunscreen. I got my bike shoes and helmet on and loaded my pockets with gels. I figured I'd start with a gel in transition and washed it down with a little drink, then unracked the bike, double checked my transition area and jogged to the bike start. A slow transition, but I felt happy and relaxed.

As I got on my bike the guy in front of me lost both bottles from his behind-the-seat cages and all his sports drink spilled. Shame, but he should invest in better bottle cages! The girl was here cheering for me too, so I started the bike ride hoping that I could handle the TT position for the full distance. The road quality on the Boulder course was good. There was no debris to speak of by the side of the road, the surface was fast and smooth, and the hills were subtle: false flats, gentle descents and just a couple of steep bits to keep you honest. Near the end of my first lap I was passed by two female pros just finishing their ride, sadly I didn't recognize them to cheer them on. My second lap was good, and knowing the course by then I felt really confident about the (small) hills and corners. After 56 fun miles I got back to transition - bike time: 2:33:22, by far the fastest I've ever ridden that distance.

The run was around Boulder Reservoir. Since it was an exposed course I took my time in transition again and layered up on sunscreen. After the fact I guess I missed some bits, so I've got some red stripes as souvenirs, but I did a decent job. Then the run... I didn't bother to time my swim, and I used my Garmin Edge bike computer for the bike leg, so I had my Timex Global Trainer watch to time the run. To make sure I'd get GPS lock quickly I'd taken it on the bike with me and turned it on. It auto-powered off during the ride, but as soon as I got to T2 I turned it back on. No GPS lock until about mile 4. I even had to reset the GPS 3 times. I'm really not impressed by that watch. So I ran the first few miles by feel, which included feeling the need to stop. First aid station - one portaloo with a green "vacant" sign... except that the lock was broken, so I stood and waited for a minute before deciding to move on. Second aid station... same problem. Fortunately this one vacated quickly and thirty seconds later I was back running again. The lack of facilities on the run course was my only complaint for the whole day.

After the first lap I decided that I'd try to hold my pace until mile 10, then if I still felt as good I'd go for a fast last 5km. The day was getting hot (around 88F/31C) by this point, so at every aid station I was grabbing ice water for my head, ice for my shirt, ice water for down my back... I even grabbed coke by mistake at one aid station, so figured it was rude not to drink it. More calories are good, right?
Anyway, at mile 10 I felt good and tried to up my pace. My effort went up, but glances at my watch didn't show me a corresponding increase in pace. Never mind, I settled into a rhythm and waited for mile 11. My pace managed to creep up through miles 11 and 12, then with about a quarter mile to go I gave everything I had. It's really amazing how good it feels to run fast, especially after that kind of effort. I felt like I was flying when I got to the finish line, a marked change from Austin last year, and I was all smiles as I got my finishers medal, some ice water and went to find shade. Total run time: 1:43:32.

So my race time was 4:59:30. Over an hour faster than my last half-ironman. I'm still having trouble comprehending how I got under 5 hours (even just 30s under), and the fact that I felt great afterwards. Sure, my legs stiffened up when I stopped moving, but I had plenty of energy left and since I'd not tapered for the race I'm a lot more confident about Ironman Wales now.

It looks like I'll be getting to the start line in Wales with two working eyes and some solid training behind me. I'm actually starting to shake some of the feelings of impending doom that I've been having about the race!

At least I train more than I blog...

I admit it - I'm absolutely terrible at keeping a blog. There are extenuating circumstances, but it basically has to do with three things:
1) I'm fundamentally lazy. This is why I'm effective at work - a smart, lazy worker will find the most efficient way to do something (or so I believe).
2) I'm mono-obsessive. Basically I'm overcoming my inherent laziness by obsessing over my Ironman training. As a side-effect I'm having trouble remembering to buy groceries, let alone write a regular blog entry.
3) I can't really see. My left eye is all just fuzzy shapes and colours right now; it needs cataract surgery, among other things. My right eye has good distance vision, especially near the start of the day. Computer screens are hard, especially after a long day in the office.

So, better late than never, here's what happened at Storrie Lake...

The race organisers had put on a 10km run the night before the triathlon, on the triathlon run course, which was great for the non-triathlete significant others. I made good use of this by sending my spy out to check the run course and report back on road surface, hills, etc.

So race morning: despite rumours about the swim not being wetsuit legal, the water was actually at 63F and quite comfortable in a full-sleeve wetsuit. The start wasn't too hectic, and I only got hit by flailing arms a couple of times. I did get a decent hit in the goggles from someone's foot as they cut a nice zig-zag course in front of me, but before too long I had worked my way through to nice (relatively clear) water. It took about 27 minutes before I was out, but I was pleasantly suprised by Storrie Lake. New Mexico isn't famed for any of it's bodies of water, but it was really quite nice.

Into transition, after a wobbly run up the boat ramp, and I had a fairly slow transition. I can't pin down exactly what was slow, so it must've been everything. I had some watch troubles too, leading to some very odd splits on my Timex Global Trainer... anyway, transition was a good opportunity to clear the mind and before I knew it I was heading to the mount/dismount line and jumping on my bike.

The ride was great, with the exception of the giant rumble strip that ran along the outer edge of the shoulder. I had to cross the rumble strip several times and my bones and teeth didn't appreciate the experience. It was an out-and-back course of 40km which was mostly uphill on the way out, then mostly down coming back. The total elevation gain was less than 1500ft (I think) and that made the ride nice and fast. One thing that really stood out to me was just how much faster all the guys/girls with TT bikes and aero gear went on the downhills. I was in the drops, spinning my biggest gear, and the full time-trial setups kept cruising past me with barely any pedaling going on. Still, I loved the ride and had a great time cruising past people on the uphill sections.

Two notably stupid things I did on the bike course:
1) took the turnaround too fast. I had to lock up the back wheel and skid it round the last few inches so I could avoid running into a table.
2) on one section of hill I dropped my head for too long (watching the white line disappear under my front wheel) and looked up to see a traffic cone. Well, I ran that traffic cone down! A little shift of bodyweight around the bike and the cone just popped out to the side when I ran over it. No harm done (but silly, especially considering how much I ride).

And that just left the run. The course was about 65% paved road, 30% packed dirt road and 5% trail. It was really a lot of fun

So overall it was a good race. The day wasn't cool, and the course wasn't shaded. Heat was starting to play a role as the day wore on, but I finished my day in 2hrs 28min 26sec. Age group place: 5th. Overall place: 23rd.

Next there will be words about the Splash'n'Dash series I've been doing. There will also be an update on how my eyes are coping just as soon as I have news. I've got a checkup on Thursday to follow up on the Ozurdex implant I had put into the left eye on last Saturday.

Until next time...