AND ALL I WANTED WAS A SCREW

So Timberman was supposed to be it, my first and only race of the season where I put all of my training eggs into one basket. But, then I needed a stupid little piece for my bike. One of those little screws that you need to attach your water bottle cage to be precise. So, after the Timberman, when I was back in Albany for a few days before classes started at Colby-Sawyer, I took a stroll down to the neighborhood bike shop (the "Downtube") to procure this screw. Now, you can't just walk into a bike shop and say "I need one stupid little screw." Or at least I can't. I got the screw, and two new water bottle cages, and (courtesy of my wife) an application for something called the "Crystal Lake Triathlon"--a sprint race of .5 mi Swim, 18 mi. Bike and 3 mi. Run about 20 minutes outside of Albany. Perfect I thought: In just one event I'll double my race output for the year and TOM-a-Lot will no longer be able to make fun of me (about racing at least). I went home and signed up.

With just two weeks until race day I tried to get in a bit of training to maintain my Timberman fitness. I also managed to get sick, which first started as an ear infection and then evolved into a cold. One week out from the race I was not in good shape. I did try to make everyone around me as sick as possible hoping that, through some kind of triathlon six degrees of separation, it would soften up the competition, but I knew that I needed to get better. By race morning I was maybe 90% recovered. The ear infection was now a minor annoyance and the cold had been downgraded to just coughing. But I felt okay.



Race morning, things were looking up. The weather was warm and the lake was smooth. I got my number, racked my bike, and set up my transition area as the other athletes were coming in. Remembering my own advice from Timberman to get in a rigorous warm-up, I set out on a run, and decided to just run the whole run course. This was a mistake. While only three miles, it was very hilly. Worse, however, was the fact that the race coordinators hadn't fully marked the run course so I ran what I thought it was which meant that I was out there much longer than I had planned, and more tired than I would have liked.

Back from my warm-up I got ready to race which meant, for the very first time, putting on my borrowed wetsuit (thanks to team equipment manager TOMasz!). At 8:00 I was ready to go, in the water with the first wave of 20-49 year old men. This was by far the best swim I've had in a race. First, despite the melee at the beginning, I quickly found some open water and could get into a stroke. Second, because I immediately went to a 1-2-breathe rhythm I felt more under control. The course was a clockwise triangle and, out to the first buoy, things looked good. There, however, problems emerged. The second leg had us swimming right into the sun (well, not literally) so it was really hard to see the buoys to sight. For a while I just paced with the guy next to me, but soon it was apparent that it was the blind leading the blind because we were both off course, having gone far out from the buoy line. Working my way back into the course, I started hitting bodies again. Things opened up at the second turn, and then it was just a straight shot. I could see the leaders out in front with a big gap between me and them. I exited the water 6th, finishing the .5 mile in 14:40.




Coming into T1 my goal was to get out of the wetsuit smoothly. I did get slowed up a bit when I had to stop to tell an official my number (which I could barely remember) and my goal of being stripped to the waist (wetsuit wise) before reaching my bike was not met. Nevertheless, I got out of it fairly easily and got my bike gear on and was out the gate. Now here I notice where the elites also do well. My T1 was 1:47--people ahead of me were out in :46. That's something to work on since that's a free minute of race time.

The course started out right on a climb out of transition onto the main road. For the most part the first half of the out-and back course was pretty much downhill. At one point, coming into an intersection a large van had pulled besides me and put on his right run signal--I was not amused. I hit my breaks until I was sure that the van was being stopped and I was being waved through, but I lost a lot of momentum. The turn around was also a bit tricky--literally a U-Turn in the middle of the street. I really had to fight to keep my bike out of the dirt, and again lost quite a bit of momentum. The ride back was a bear--up, up, up, and up again. Fortunately there was a nice headwind on the way back so I could really feel good about complaining. I was getting passed by people and becoming discouraged. I rolled into T2 just shy of 57:00 and was out on the run 46 seconds later.

The run started up that same hill as the bike course, and here I think the extra long warm-up did not help. My legs just did not feel fresh, which wasn't helped by the hilly bike course. But, I motored along, again getting passed by a couple of people. It really wasn't until the last mile that I found a happy rhythm, but by then it was too late. The 3 miles took me 20:14, which I wasn't really happy with, but oh well. I was happy to see the finish line and bring the day to a close, finishing in 1:33:49.

That was good enough to put me in 3rd for my age group, which garnered me a nifty coffee mug. Finally I had something to drink my syrup out of! The real action after the race, however, took place during the charity raffle. My dad and step mom (who had come up to cheer) bought a bunch of tickets and won just about everything--a T-Shirt, two running caps, some certificates for kids triathlons (which they gave away) and a complimentary entry to an Xterra race next August (which I will do).

So, with the awards and prizes handed out I made my way back to transition to collect my things. That's when I noticed it: my water bottle cage was dangling off of my rear seat mount by a single, loose screw. So now, once again, I must venture into a bike shop and who knows what I'll walk out with this time. Or, maybe I'll just order some on-line.

THE LONG AWAITED TIMBERMAN 70.3 REPORT, AT LAST !!!

After an incredibly lengthy delay and the hope that TOMboy would write the race report, I cannot stand it any longer. However, the excitement following such an incredible day has not lessened any, so I’ll find it just as easy today as it would have been a month ago to write this report. I cannot believe that it’s been a month since Race Day.

I still remember race morning as if it were yesterday. Sunrise over the lake was incredible and thankfully the single biggest issue that kept me awake for THE ENTIRE night was for naught … WAVES! That’s right. It was so incredibly windy on Saturday that the chop we witnessed when racking our bikes in the afternoon was truly impressive. Unfortunate are we that we did not document this on film, but no joke, the swells were reported to be 2-4 feet!! Uhuh … I didn’t sign up for an ocean swim!

AND … NOBODY told me that it might be cold the morning of the race. For every race that I do following Timberman, I’m bringing fleece … LOTS of fleece. Nearly froze to death waiting the 35 minutes for our swim to start. For whatever reason race officials thought it would be funny to start the race 20 minutes late and then of course those of us whose waves didn’t start until many minutes after that but had already warmed up, stood and froze. So what looks like a terrific group photo is really Holly and Britta trying to warm me up.

All of that prerace fun aside … it was an incredible day … TOMboy and I scored a great spot staying at NewTOM’s parents house in Canterbury, NH … only about 45 minutes away from the race site. We arrived at the race site in time to park within sight of transition and finish. It was close, traffic was backed up for more than a mile. Not the stressless morning we’d hoped for, but we got through it.

Having nearly 2 hours to go before the start of the race, transitions to set up, bathroom trips to make and warming up to do, we separated, each to her prerace zone. I’m not sure where my prerace zone was … or even is … I was so keyed up I had to force myself to just sit down beside my bike and just be … a brief 2 minutes of meditation to try to get a handle on what I was about to ask my body to do. Yeah. Good luck.

Right on schedule, transition closed and we were escorted by the bagpiper to the swim start. Surreal. The winds calmed during the night and early morning posted temperatures near 40 degrees with a light breeze. Perfect race conditions … unless you have to stand and wait for your swim wave.


As I said, we got a bit of a late start, and then waiting for our wave chilled us a bit, but once we’d put our faces in the water and started moving, adrenaline warmed us right up. The sun was in our favor to the first tetrahedron, but upon making the right hand turn to swim facing the shore, we were greeted with sun glare which made sighting more difficult and I know for me, slowed me down considerably. The wind kicked up a bit and the waves tossed us around some, but once we made the final turn toward shore, we were home free!

I love wetsuit strippers! T1 was smooth! I had so much time to prepare prerace, I would have been disappointed if I’d not been ready.

Saw my family at mile 5 of the bike. Even managed to shout at TOMb as he cruised in the opposite direction headed for T2. Couldn’t believe how good I was feeling into the turn around on the bike. Only to be greeted with a SERIOUS headwind on the return. Miles 35-45 were tough … just grinding into the wind and knowing that I still had a LONG way to go. Then at mile 47 something that has never happened to me before happened … I threw my chain, going up hill! Fortunately I had the wherewithal to kick out of my cleat before I started to fall. I’m very pleased with myself that I didn’t panic. I switching sides of the road so as to be out of the path of other riders, then when I realized that I was not going to be able to get my chain back on myself, in ran up the hill to find that I was at an aide station. Not only was I at an aide station but the Mavic bike guy was coming around the corner. He had me back on my bike in 2 minutes. Unfortunately, he didn’t get me back on my bike before I had a chance to completely coat myself in grease. My Team IronTom shorts will never be the same.

T2 … even smoother. Grab and Go! There was my family to cheer me on!

The run was the biggest surprise of the day. I felt great right off of the bike. It took a bit for my legs to figure out that I wanted them to run, but once we’d reached and understanding, I was able to achieve a steady pace and hold onto it. Somehow I got into such a zone that I didn’t hear TOMb shout at me more than once. But I did see TOMBoy as she headed out on her run, all smiles and looking great! I’d been dreading the two loop run, anticipating just wanting to be done with the whole thing as I had to go back out on a second loop. And then there was my team, and my family and some of my team’s family, cheering me on! I was so excited to go back out on the second loop when I came into all of the excitement.

And finally, after rounding the 3 mile mark … a neighborhood where Mardi Gras had been happening all day … I knew I had it … and yet, I was feeling empowered by all of the energy around me and I picked up my pace. I had to keep calming myself because I was just getting too excited. 2 miles to go I was nearly jumping for joy. 1 mile to go and I could hear the finish line.

And then … there was the finish line. And more importantly … there was my family .. who had endured all of my hours and hours of training and supported me through every bit of it. Yelling SO hard! And I was pumping the air with my fists and laughing and crying and smiling! Psyched.

And the best part … I could have kept going!

Good thing. Since I’m signed up for Ironman Lake Placid ’08!

How Does it Feel to be Rear-Ended at about 30 Miles/Hour?

Well, not goood. Just this past Monday, I had a priviledge of becoming a victim in a four-car pile up on north-bound I-89.

As the traffic was coming to a road construction slow down, I got rear-ended by a twenty-something female who apparently did not think that slowing down was appropriate in this instance. I am not sure if she was on the cell phone or just day-dreaming when her VW Passat plowed onto the rear end of my Volvo.

My car did exactly what it was supposed to do. It absorbed all the impact but sustained enough damage (while protecting me) to be most likely deemed a "total schade."

As for myself, the medics checked me out on the scene and let me go. I must monitor myself for the next few weeks and look for other/additional symptons that may develop. The whiplash caused by the impact gave me a hughe headache and an injury to my upper arm and the hip area.

Overall, I feel fortunate to have been able to walk away from this accident and to tell the story.

Survival of the Wettest

TOMTOM and I hoped for a decent weather day for this year’s Half Vermont Journey, which was held last Sunday, Sept. 9. The ’06 race had been cold and rainy and the bike leg had provided hypothermic conditions. We optimistically thought that couldn’t happen two years in a row.

While not part of the 70.3 series, this is an official USAT Half Ironman race. It starts and finishes in Branbury State Park, on Lake Dunmore in Salisbury, VT. The lake is quite shallow and, as such, boasts water temps in the low 70’s, even in early September. Vermont Sun hosts well-organized triathlons - sprint, Olympic distance and the half - from this area throughout the summer. In this year’s race, the swim was two laps around a .6 mile loop parallel to shore, then two loops on Rte. 7 for the bike and an out-and-back run along the lake.

Right on queue, the rain started as we were taking our bikes off the car in the parking lot at 6:30am. It was a steady rain at first - not heavy- and the wind picked up, making the water choppy. How easily I had forgotten my words at the end of the bike leg in 2006, when I said, “I will never start a long triathlon if it’s pouring rain and cold – I will simply pack up my gear and go home.” More than a quarter of the registered field had been smart enough to stay home on this dismal day. Yet, here I was again. A competitor at heart, I thought I had learned some valuable lessons from the ’06 race that I wouldn’t need to repeat in ’07. Of course, TOMTOM couldn’t stand the idea of me doing the race without him, so here he was again too, despite a calf injury and a commitment to run in the Reach the Beach relay five days later. It was an ominous start, as we both tried not to reflect on our challenges during last year’s bike leg.

Due to the wind, the swim was tough in one direction, pretty good in the other. Even in the choppy direction, I knew it was the most comfortable I would be all day – and the swim is my weakest discipline of the three.

It was impossible to be quick in T1. Even stuff in bags was wet the minute I took it out. I was cold already, so grabbed a long-sleeved zip heavyweight tech wear. I debated a rain jacket too, but thought it would be too much - DUH.

Valuable lesson #1: when it’s raining hard in T1, wear a waterproof outer layer. Don’t think, just do it – no exceptions.

It poured during the entire bike leg – except for one five minute period during which both TOMTOM and I developed great hope of how much better things would get without the rain. Then it started again… harder than before.

By mile 20, I had lost any dexterity in my hands and feeling in my feet due to the cold and wet conditions (I have a circulation issue called Raynaud’s Phenomenon, which makes this happen relatively fast in such conditions). I managed my last nutrition on the bike at mile 25 – I knew this would hurt me, but there was nothing I could do. I was shifting with my hands held as blocks and my teeth were chattering. I knew TOMTOM would be just as cold given the fact that he has about one third the body fat that I have! He was mustering a nice smile each time we met on the bike, so I thought at least he was warmer than last year.

Valuable lesson #2: if you suffer from Raynaud’s Phenomenon, wear Gore-Tex gloves and bike booties when biking in the rain and cold, no matter how long it takes to get dressed in T1. Throw in some hand warmers too.

Many riders had flats. I avoid road debris like the plague, and yet, at mile 52, I heard the fateful sound and knew it was my turn for a flat in a race. After a fair amount of cussing, I looked up to see a bike support crew member pulling over to help me. He told me he would take care of my tire and have me riding again soon. If it hadn’t been for him, I would have walked it in, as there was no way I could grip tools or any part of the tire-changing process with my hands.

T2 was a total washout. A kind fellow racer unclipped my helmet for me, as I did not have the dexterity to do it myself. I shoved my frozen feet into my running shoes, grabbed a dry jacket and fuel belt, and started running as fast as I could to warm up. No matter how weird it felt running on my frozen-block feet, it was better than being on the bike. By mile 4, the feeling in my feet was coming back and my hands were much better, so I could eat and drink. I threw down some good miles and was warming up. It was still pouring, but it was bothering me a lot less now.

On the out-and-back run, I met TOMTOM and figured he was about half an hour in front of me. I knew this meant he had trouble, as normally he would be further ahead. As he described it, the “monkey’s fist” in his calf seized up in the first mile and he was relegated to a jog. He was suffering a serious limp after the race – and worried about his next big running commitment a few days later.

After mile eight, my pace became quite erratic. My lack of nutrition and the cold on the bike was catching up to me; I was losing steam in my strongest event. Miles nine through twelve were a struggle. I forced another gel and was able to pick it up for the last mile. Disappointing time, but good overall performance considering the conditions…

As we have all learned, there are pre-race goals and then there are adjusted goals set during a race. I was reminded of the marathon that I am most proud to have run – it was my slowest, by an hour. But it was 87 degrees when I finished – and I finished, which was a huge accomplishment for me. This year’s Half Vermont Journey brought a similar sense of pride for finishing. Both TOMTOM and I were psyched to be race survivors! With all these lessons learned, I should be prepared for almost anything next year. The key is to keep these lessons fresh in mind, because it CAN happen again! J

BritTOM's Bike Camp in France

Negotiating Mount Ventoux

Well, my annual trip to France this year took me back to a favourite mountain - Mt Ventoux. A famous (infamous?!) climb of 22 km over 1610metres (note I've gone metric here in an attempt to be more European!), most of it 10%, most of it quite upsetting for the legs, too!

Ventoux is different to other mountains in France because it rises straight out of the flat land around it - that make it look pretty big, and it gets the worst of the weather too - hot and cold!We camped in the area for most of the trip, which is always a pleasure, hot and dry, and the bike riding is, well, interesting!

My form has held quite well since Lake Placid and I managed to get to the top of the mountain quicker than ever - although not as quick as the professional cyclists that were passing through the area on their way to the remaining European pro-races for this year.

As ever, our time was pretty well balanced between riding between cafes, racing for the top of any col and suffering on the long climb to the summit of Ventoux. Here's a small picture of me grimacing near to the top!

However, as a result of too much time chatting in French cafes and around the campfire I have to confess to having started discussions about an event I've been looking at for a long time: The embrunman http://www.embrunman.com/maine.htm. For anyone who follows the Tour deFrance, you'll know the bike course better as the Col d'Izoard. Anyone interested?