Jeff Jonas

Malaysia Ironman versus South Africa Ironman – “Tastes like Mango”

In February 2008 I did the Malaysia Ironman, which took me nearly 15 hours. This last Sunday, seven weeks later, I did the South Africa Ironman, which took me just over 12.5 hours, missing my best time by just five minutes. In hindsight I now realize I should not have stopped to take a 10 minute shower in the middle of the run. My bad.

You learn something in every race. And some things are never as they appear. Take the guy I ran past last Sunday in South Africa. I could tell that he had a bit of a hygiene problem going on. So I said, “Hey, I think I should tell you that you have some diarrhea seeping through the back of your run trunks.” He says “You mean it looks like I ’shat’” my pants?” I nod. He then proceeds to take his right hand to scrape the back of his shorts. He can now see it as he has this brown gunk on his hand. He looks at it. Smells it. Then licks it! He looks at me and says “Tastes like mango.” Apparently some mango-flavored supplement ended up in the wrong place. However, had I been thinking more quickly I would have said “Did you have mangos for dinner last night?” In any case, he thanks me, shakes my hand … mango poopy material and all … and then we part ways.

Here is another big lesson that I seem to learn over and over. “Sighting” during open water swims is important. In this most recent race I did the first half in 38 minutes, yet the second half took me an extra seven minutes. Why? Well, my big mistake was selecting a cloud that was hovering way out over the Indian Ocean as a sighting point. About 10 minutes later while I was basking in how lucky I was not to be kicked and scratched by other swimmers – it dawned on me that I had not seen anyone in quite some time. So I poked my head out of the water to locate the next race buoy only to discovered I was actually en route to India itself.  Great white shark territory, I was thinking – and without all the feeding options (the other athletes) … just me.

And on that note, here are a few new triathlon tips for those like me who don’t actually have the time to train properly:

• Go long. If you can only ride 2-5 times a month, make each ride super long (75 to 200 miles) and hard – hills are good. Same goes with runs.
• Try a full marathon on a treadmill. What is great training about this is the monotony.
• Swim training. Never. The training time it takes to get faster is not worth the effort when you are in my hacker category. (In my first triathlon I did the stroke known as the “backfloat” which by the way, on a related note, was shortly after I asked triathlete legend Scott Tinley just before the race if fast people can actually swim the whole distance freestyle. I recall he looked at me in a disgusted fashion.)
• Brick workouts (practicing going from bike to run) are hard and take more time. There is probably a reason they are called bricks. I think I have only done three bricks in my entire life. Try to avoid these.
• Swimming. Don’t sight on clouds, boats, or other things that move.
• Get a time trial bike and stay down on those aero bars the whole time (unless out of your saddle climbing). I bought a Cervelo P3C bike about a month before my last race. Had four rides on it before the South Africa race getting used to the new position (two rides at 38 miles, one a 58 mile ride, and one 200 miler). This bike gave me my best bike time ever in an Ironman race, shaving nearly 45 minutes off of my previous best time. I almost broke 5.5 hours (5h33m) averaging 19.6mph!
• Drinking (alcohol) the night before the race is approved. It helps take the stress off the night before the race. Tell your friends you are “carb loading!”
• During the race don’t drink weird stuff you have not trained with on the race course. If you do try something new. Only take a sip or two and then see how you feel in 30 minutes before ingesting any more.  Stomach cramps suck.
• Shave (the undercarriage) the morning of the race. Otherwise, if you shave the night before your morning micro stubble will serve as sandpaper. Ouch-O-rama.
• After shaving the same morning of the South Africa race, I boldly slipped on some brand new, untested, tri shorts for the race. Ouch-O-rama times 100. A very bad idea. They caused such severe chafing my huevos were bleeding by race end. I could barely walk. Girlfriend says it is one of the grossest things she has ever seen. I’m simply hoping there is no permanent scarring. Reminder: don’t try untested things race day.
• Water and nutrition will make or break your race. I continue to remain uncertain about the importance of mangos.

Now a few race specifics.

Malaysia Ironman (Langkawi), February 2008. Beautiful country. Extraordinarily nice people. The swim is a “no wet suit” swim. Aside from this messing up the swim times of hackers like myself … the real problem was the stinging sea lice (some called it plankton). I did not know what was stinging me. But whatever it was … it was getting caught in my chest hair (which was behaving like a little net). Key point: It is hard to maintain a decent swim stroke while trying to beat these little critters out of your chest hair. Tip: In such conditions, maybe try shaving all that hair off so that less of these critters get stuck on you. The bike course was smooth. Some portions were closed to cars. Others portions were not closed. Watch out for the begging kids on the bike race course – there were a few – they appeared to think one of us might pull over to give them money! Anyway, by the time you get to the run, the temperature and humidity are killing you. On my race day it was something like 32 degree C (90 degrees F) and 40-50% humidity. To add to the suffering, some parts of the race course are right next to heavy traffic (smog) and, what appears to be, open sewers. I spotted some athletes (mid run) lying down in bus stops, others being assisted by ambulances, and quite a few simply puking their guts up. Looked to me like they were all from Japan! (This is a popular race if you live in Japan). The Singaporeans, on the other hand, seemed to fare very well (to know humidity is to love humidity – because I live in Las Vegas, you can guess how I feel about humidity). Finally, this race course itself is also not even remotely spectator friendly. You will hardly ever see anyone. Needless to say, this was my least favorite Ironman race so far.

South Africa Ironman (Port Elizabeth), April 2008. Very smooth waters on race day (I heard this was not that common). Extraordinary bike and run course – all roads in excellent shape and 100% closed to traffic! Simply fantastic. Very professionally organized. And this race course is the most spectator friendly I’ve seen – in part because you see your friends at least three times on the bike ride and up to six times on the run! This was my favorite race of the eight Ironman-sanctioned events I’ve done. Only one word of caution:  South Africa is suffering from a power shortage, which is evidenced by the roaming (scheduled) blackouts. The point being if you decide to get out and cycle the course before the race, pay special attention when passing through intersections with disabled traffic signals! And finally, if you see the beautiful little shower facility in the middle of the run course … and you are positioned to possibly beat your best time … don’t take off your socks, shoes, hat and shirt … for a dreamy little 10 minute shower (asking around for soap) in the middle of your race … unless it is really going to be worth it … which for me, it was!

 

RELATED POSTS:

Hacking the 2007 Brazil Ironman Triathlon in Florianopolis (May 27, 2007) – Strategy, Tragedy and 100% Pure Agava Tequila

Preparing for the 2007 New Zealand Ironman in Singapore?

Handicapped at the 2006 Arizona Ironman

Surviving the 2006 France Ironman and How Intelligent are Chimpanzees?

Dumb and Dumber: Consequences of the 2006 Silverman Triathlon

What sharks? Reflections on the 2005 Western Australia Ironman

 

Hacking the 2007 Brazil Ironman Triathlon in Florianopolis (May 27, 2007) – Strategy, Tragedy and 100% Pure Agava Tequila

Most of my Ironman-related posts are simply meant to be funny and contain very little useful information – this post is meant to be both funny and useful to a few other athletes, especially those trying to hack their way through Ironman triathlons – which consists of a 2.4 mile swim, 112 mile bike and a 26.2 mile run.

When your job is your hobby, it is hard to find time to train. So following the New Zealand Ironman I did in March, I was only able to do four long hard rides (averaging about 110 miles and 8,000 feet of climbing), a few runs 10 miles or less and one long run (22 miles the Sunday before this race), and absolutely no swimming. Upon hearing my strategy, my best friend Joe, who really trains for these events, told me I had never trained less and that my strategy was in fact a tragedy. Joe knows best, he beat me by almost two hours in the France Ironman last year.

When we arrived in Florianopolis four days before the race my girlfriend and I found Joe and began to execute on a key element of my tragedy strategy. Tequila. Over dinner our table drank two bottles of wine, then over 13 shots of tequila (lost count), and then we successfully convinced Joe to top all this off with a vodka and Red Bull. Joe has never trained for this, I on the other hand …

In any case, Joe puked (no picture here) at say about 2am. I did not.

Because I had not ridden my bike at all in three weeks, Friday morning I decided to get out on the bike course for a three hour solo ride. After riding toward the airport for about 50 minutes and with all kinds of funny muscle pains, I decided to cut this training ride short and save whatever I had left for race day. One more thing about doing training rides in Florianopolis: NEVER EVER DO TRAINING RIDES IN FLORIANOPOLIS! Some of these roads are no different than riding on a two-lane freeway without a shoulder. Another athlete had already been hit earlier in the week and was in the hospital … I must not have received the memo. This was the scariest cycling I have ever done.

Well then. Maybe I’ll take a test swim in the ocean. The plan was 30 minutes down the coastline and 30 minutes back. After swimming down 20 minutes and then half way back, I felt just defeated enough to walk back to the hotel. Saturday arrives and I am now very sore from the short little swim the day before.

Nervous? Oh Yeah! What am I thinking? Can hacking an Ironman result in death?

Sunday morning the race starts at 7am. Over 1,100 athletes run for the water at the same time to embark on the 2.4 mile swim. Many athletes, especially the hackers like me, are swimming all over the place due to the unanticipated current that is moving from right to left. At the half way point, we get out of the water, run a few hundred feet on the beach and then get back in the ocean to swim another 1.2 miles. Some athletes were so worn out from the first half, they thought they were done – so they began taking their wetsuits off at the half way point. Obviously, they did not get that memo. Also worth noting is that on the last leg of the swim towards shore, there are exposed rocks on the right side. The event staff had a very busy job keeping the swimmers from being pushed into the rocks by the current. I survived the swim with only one elbow to the left eye. My swim time: 1 hour 23 minutes.

The 112 mile bike course was interesting. Don’t hit the traffic cones that seem to be in the cycling lane at times. Joe hit one (and did not fall) going about 20 miles an hour—he discovered they were made of metal! I saw no bathrooms on the cycling course. Some said they saw a few. The dudes were pulling over on busy streets, in front of police and passers-by, whipping it out and doing their thing. Note to others: Bring your own toilet paper. My bike time: 5 hour 57 minutes.

On the first loop of the run there is one super steep hill, it appeared to be 90 degrees but I am guessing it is probably less. Do not run up or down such monsters if you are a hacker like me. People were blowing their legs out on this. One guy coming down evidently lost his ability to control his speed. I was too focused on my own suffering to wait for the likely spectacular outcome and thus just pressed on.

In these races, I am always keeping tabs on whom I think I can beat. Some are ahead of you, but you think you will eventually pass them. Others are behind you and you hope to smoke them. There was this one dude, number 777 … he looked like a powerful warrior and athlete to me – and I had my mind set on beating him. I had a good feeling about this until TRAGEDY struck. There I was about 15 miles into the 26.2 mile run. On these long endurance events, I just get dumber and dumber as the day goes on (example here). On this fine day, I find myself running in one direction and all the athletes are going the other direction. It takes me a while to notice this – like 10 minutes! Suddenly, I realize that as far as I can see, no one is running in my direction. I turn to look behind me in hopes of seeing other athletes following me. No such luck! Do you have any idea how defeating it is to find yourself in this situation – having to run an extra mile or two. A helpful local offered to give me a ride back to where I took the wrong turn on his motorcycle. As tempting as that was, the idea of trying to explain why an athlete was whipping around on the back of a motorcycle to a race official who probably spoke no English – just not worth being disqualified over! Over the next 45 minutes, I had one word racing through my head – and appropriately so I think – it was the "F" word. How did this happen? I was an idiot. And, in hindsight I bet all those people yelling at me in Portuguese were only trying to help. My run time: 5 hours 10 minutes. Needless to say, Mr. Warrior Athlete Dude past me.

As night fell during the run, one must think about the movie "Turistas" – no worries here though as the police were everywhere. (Although two athletes a couple days earlier decided to walk on the beach at night and got mugged. In case you have not seen that memo, don’t do that.)

I could not find any Vaseline on the run so I was able to bleed through my sock and through my shoe. If you are not eating, check out this nice blister on my baby toe.

Miraculously, despite the run diversion for bonus miles, I finished this race in about 12 hours and 31 minutes. I beat my previous record of 12 hours and 55 minutes in the Western Australia Ironman! To boot, I was only about 45 minutes slower than Joe. Crazy!

Here are a few key logistics related items to keep in mind if you do this race.

Of the eight Ironman distance triathlons I have done, the Brazil Ironman is the most organized Ironman I have ever seen.

You must get a visa from the Brazilian consulate. These things take something like 10 days and are no fun. On the visa form they ask if you are in a competitive event that has cash prizes. Saying yes, means more paperwork. I said yes, did the paperwork, and got the visa. Most everyone else I spoke with (including a fast athlete that won prize money) chose to lie on his/her visa application. The airlines down in Brazil (e.g., TAM Airlines) were late – at least all of our flights were late. I’d leave at least four hours for connecting flights in the future. And the airports are a mess, maybe because so many bikes were being rolled into the baggage systems.

This is the first race I have done where I signed up with a triathlon-oriented travel company. I used Endurance Sports Travel. It’s unbelievably helpful, everything from a team of mechanics to a hospitality suite on the race-course near the finish. Use them, they are fantastic.

More generally, I learned a few other important tricks for future races. Real triathletes already know these things, because they have trainers or read books on this stuff. I, on the other hand, am a hacker.

When eating or drinking new foods during the race, only have a small amount to make sure it is compatible with your stomach. They had some kind of weird soup (not broth), so I sampled a tiny bit a few times before I chugged any down.

I did a bad job shaving under my chin, I even knew I did a bad job when I did it, I just did not care. Bad idea. A nearly six hour bike ride with stubble here, a bike helmet strap and salt makes made for a nice rash.

As I passed through the various aid stations for runners, I kept thinking the word for water in Portuguese sounded like vodka. How funny I thought. Then about halfway through the run a bilingual fellow who passed me explained they were saying "Vaca" which actually means cow – as I was being addressed based on my shirt, which was white with large black spots. Later, I realized they were also asking me if I wanted "leche" (Spanish for milk). Funny, real funny. Ha Ha!

Never try new clothes on race day. I always do – even though I know it is a bad idea. My shorts had two problems. For starters, I chaffed in new places (don’t ask, don’t tell, and especially don’t touch). And, maybe another reason so many people were hooting at me in Portuguese was that my shorts turned out to be somewhat see-through from the back. It was kind of my girlfriend and kids to wait until I was done with the race before they told me … you think?

Any finally, when I was recounting my day with my girlfriend, I mentioned Mr. Warrior Athlete Dude and how I wanted to stay ahead of him. She said she had noticed him too as he came across the finish line before me ... in fact, it crossed her mind that had hacking an Ironman resulted in my death, he would be the perfect replacement. No joke! :O

RELATED POSTS:

What sharks? Reflections on the 2005 Western Australia Ironman

Handicapped at the 2006 Arizona Ironman

Surviving the 2006 France Ironman and How Intelligent are Chimpanzees?

Dumb and Dumber: Consequences of the 2006 Silverman Triathlon

Preparing for the 2007 New Zealand Ironman in Singapore?

Preparing for the 2007 New Zealand Ironman in Singapore?

Last Saturday, March 3rd, I did the New Zealand Ironman. The event was held at Lake Taupo, which is roughly located in the center of New Zealand’s north island. Keeping with tradition I was unprepared – actually, I was exceptionally unprepared.

My training since my Ironman race in November consisted of zero swims, maybe eight bike rides and ten runs. So in race terms I guess I peaked in November and have been tapering ever since. Because I kept choosing work and family over exercise I had to adapt my training program accordingly, which generally translated to "Why train today when I can train tomorrow?"

One smart move involved arriving in the region a week or so early to get used to the time zone and climate. After a careful look at the globe I decided Singapore would be perfect. Foolish American! What was I thinking? Turns out that Singapore is a 10 hour flight away and the climate is not even similar!

Desperate to train, at the last minute I decided to prepare by running five days in a row for just one hour. The day I landed in Singapore (following an 18 hour flight from Los Angeles) I attempted my first run – outdoors. Turns out that Singapore is very humid and running outdoors midday requires a lot of water. I got dizzy and had to take a rest with just a half mile left to go. On the second day I did my one hour run on the treadmill. Then on the third day, to my surprise, my legs were too sore to run at all. Not a confidence building moment, that’s for sure. No more runs for me. With just six days until race day, obviously I needed a new plan.

As the race day approached I was getting more nervous. I was hearing things, like Lake Taupo is very cold, even with a wetsuit, and if the temperature is too cold on race day they may cancel or shorten the swim. Someone also mentioned it was the largest inland lake in all of New Zealand and has no bottom (I think that just means really deep, huh?). At this point I resorted to a critical racing strategy of something called "carb loading" where one ingests massive amounts of carbohydrates in the days before the race. So to kill two birds with one stone, I chose alcohol to both help with the nerves and get some carbs in me (not recommended!).

I decided to swing through Taupo on registration day to sign up for the race (mandatory) on Thursday after flying all night from Singapore and then bounce down to Wellington for late day meetings. Definitely never do this. Turns out commercial flights for this kind of schedule don’t exist. In desperation to register for the race I actually had to charter an old twin engine plane. The pilot had to keep pushing the window molding back in place by hand throughout the flight to Taupo and then on to Wellington.

I returned to Taupo Friday before the race around 9 pm. I was pretty nervous … so I carb loaded some more (specifically, I had a margarita and split a bottle of champagne with my girlfriend).

Not much sleep over the previous week and not much sleep on race night proved to be no advantage. Saturday I got up around 4:45 am to start eating. The race was to start at 7am.

Because I had not swum in 90 days, I walked out into the water and was able to stand on a rock until the gun went off. I think I got to the rock with no more than two or three strokes. The strategy here was to conserve my arms … what if they failed 10-20 strokes from shore simply because I warmed them up?

The water was not very cold at all (nothing like swimming from Alcatraz to San Francisco). Taupo was beautiful, at least the lake bottom where the race started – it looks like peanut butter and chocolate swirls. I got to enjoy that for about 30 minutes until the swim back in deeper water. Luckily, my arms only registered formal complaints twice en route to the swim finish.

Out of the water, while leading what might have been the last twenty percent of the athletes, I made the 600 meter dash to the bike transition area. A little out of it, I almost put my bike shoes on before taking my wetsuit off. Duh! Then with some assistance a volunteer sprayed me with sunscreen. This is key as I was about to spend the next six plus hours pedaling the bicycle. And consistent with most of my races, I did not take great care with the completeness of this important sunscreen application stage. You know they say New Zealand has no ozone layer. Hence, the awful burns I have today on the top of both thighs (the swelling is going down now though). Race tip: Apply sunscreen to all of your skin.

The bike ride was quite nice. I was able to enjoy the scenery for the first 30 or so miles. After that one mainly looks for more water and oxygen. About three quarters of the way into the ride I crushed (that means passed with great strength) a bunch of riders including a much older guy in a green bike jersey with a braided beard. Shortly after reveling in my extraordinary strength … he and whole bunch of others returned the favor as I began to run out of steam.

After the swim and the bike I was about 7 hours and 45 minutes into the race. This was a first for me. My fastest swim and bike combination ever … in fact, it may be the first time I ever started the run before the pros had already come through the finish line. Obviously, my carb loading strategy was making up for my pathetic training strategy.

The run. Oh. the run. Nothing like starting a marathon after almost eight hours of exercising. The run course had mild rolling hills. A nice course actually, maybe my favorite so far. I was able to jog along through the first half of the course, then on the second half did some walking. Then with about six miles left to run I noticed another competitor gaining on me. The idea that this person (without being specific, think much older and much bigger) might actually pass me became my biggest fear. Needless to say, I had to really push myself those last few miles.

I completed the race in 13 hours and 10 minutes. As it turns out this was my second best race time over out of the seven Ironman races I have completed to date. I was only 15 minutes slower than my best time – crazy!

OTHER RELATED POSTS:

Surviving the 2006 France Ironman and How Intelligent are Chimpanzees?

Handicapped at the 2006 Arizona Ironman

Dumb and Dumber: Consequences of the 2006 Silverman Triathlon

Yesterday I did the Las Vegas Silverman triathlon – this is known as the toughest Ironman in North America. Talk about suffering. Whoever dreamt up this course is a sick puppy.

The 112 mile bike course involved over 9,700 feet of climbing, which is just over a third of the way up Mount Everest! The 26.2 mile run course involved over 2,000 feet of climbing.

To boot it was really windy during the swim and the bike. This made the 2.4 mile swim in Lake Mead very choppy – my most difficult swim ever. And the first 50 miles of biking were into something like a 15 mile per hour headwind – my most difficult biking ever. Good thing I did not try this race on my mountain bike, as I once did in an Ironman; otherwise, I could still be out there.

The swim took me 1 hour 29 minutes. The bike took another 7 hours 18 minutes. This means after getting into my running gear I had already been racing for nearly 9 hours. No better time to start a marathon run, huh? Well, the run took me just over 5 hours.

The funny thing about these events is that you get progressively dumber as the day goes on. On the bike I attempted to simply count cyclists I was passing. Not possible – it just took too much concentration to perform this mathematical feat. Then on the run I distinctly remember hearing that it was 6pm and given that the race started at 6:30am, one would think computing the total number of elapsed hours would be easy. Computing the 11 hours and 30 minutes of elapsed time in my head was exceedingly difficult – in fact, I gave up at least twice before deciding to try one more time!

At about 13 hours into the race, I turned left into a dead end dirt lot with a fence. I saw another athlete coming straight on and politely asked if he was lost. He said "No". As I was concluding that he was simply dazed and confused I looked up to see I was running into a fence. Turns out I was the one off course. So I blurted out … "I guess I am lost!"

The whole race took me 14 hours and 10 minutes.

Well, it is the day after. My legs hurt. It is hard to walk. I’m tired. Still thirsty. And still am suffering from an IQ deficiency.

Athletics Update: Alcatraz Swim and Malibu Triathlon

Last Sunday my 15 year old son and I (pic) swam from Alcatraz to San Francisco (pic).  About 800 people jumped in the water at what is called the Alcatraz Sharkfest Swim.  Many gave up and went home in shame.  Not us … we actually finished.  And my son was nice enough to stay with me as he clearly could have left me in the dust.  (I should have never let him get involved in competitive swimming when he was younger).

After the Alcatraz race we flew to Los Angeles.  Sunday, the next morning, I did the Malibu Triathlon with my friend Joe.  To my surprise, I did my fastest race ever finishing 13th in my age group of 119 athletes.  Makes me wonder what is possible if I really trained.  Nope not me … work is my number one hobby!

Surviving the 2006 France Ironman and How Intelligent are Chimpanzees?

I did the Nice France Ironman on Sunday, June 25th, 2006.  It took me 14 hours and 15 minutes.

Apparently my two training swims in the preceeding four months really made a big difference. I improved my 2.4 mile swim time by over ten minutes from my best Ironman swim, completing it in something like one hour and ten minutes.

The 112 mile bike course was unbelievable hilly and some sections reminded me of lines at Disneyland. While it appears the ride starts around the next corner, one eventually discovers another twisting trail leading to another faux start. On this bike ride the "tops" of the hills were always just beyond the next visible stretch. While I whimpered up the biggest hill, I decided to name the endless climb the "will killer."

The 26.2 mile marathon took me about six hours. My stomach had become upset from the unfamiliar energy drinks I found on the course … duh. As a consequence, I did some walking in order to avoid heaving.

My friend Joe crushed me by about two hours. It was his first. And he trains. Must be nice.

Now about chimpanzees. While taking a training run in London a week before the race, I found this advertisement poster outside the Natural History Museum. Apparently chimpanzees are 99.4% similar to humans when using functional DNA as the point of comparison. Suddenly, despite my lack of oxygen (or maybe only because I lacked oxygen) this seemed so relevant. Basically, the thinking goes: "If a .6% difference matters this much then …. "

My next blog post will attempt to explain why this fact is so relevant when thinking about the next generation of intelligent systems.

Handicapped at the 2006 Arizona Ironman

This last Sunday (April 9th) I competed in the Arizona Ironman.  And although the word “competed” sets the wrong impression, I did finish and I was not last.

Being a full time single parent and traveling extensively for my job makes it hard to train for these events.  To this point, last Friday (two days before the race) I did my second training swim of the year – swimming 2.5 miles all at once, making it the single longest swim of my life.  True to good training, I considered this my peak swim and then had a good two days to taper before the actual race.  Real athletes peak and then begin tapering weeks before the race – not me as I just pretend to be an athlete.  At this race, I did finish the swim in my best time ever, swimming the 2.4 miles in about 1:24.

The 112 miles on the bike took longer than planned (6 hours, 41 minutes) in part because the mid-day wind picked which affected the last half of the ride.

Then after just over eight hours of swimming and biking, I started the 26.2 mile run – a brutal experience considering the heat and the fact that my legs were pretty much destroyed from the hard work on the bike – and finished it in 6 hours, 3 minutes.

Oh … about the bike … I was certainly handicapped.  Trust me, I was the only one to attempt this event on this kind of bike.  Yes, that would be a full suspension mountain bike with knobby tires.

All things considered, I felt pretty good right after this 14 hour and 23 minute effort, and decided I would certainly never do that again on a mountain bike.  Although after a few nights of sleep, I’m already thinking that doing the Ironman with a mountain bike again would be a good idea – obviously I must still be dehydrated!

2006 Solvang Double Century – No Surveillance Cameras at the Laundry Mat

This last Saturday a few buddies and I were out near Santa Barbara, California to put another 200 mile bike ride under our belt.  But unlike other double century rides where the sequence of events is something like suffer, suffer, suffer, finish … this one finished us!

Adam and Vic (two of my buddies from Vegas) and I pulled out at about 6:30am , which should have assured us completion before dark.  That would be important as we had no night gear (lights, reflectors, etc.).

Well long story short, we got lost twice and spent over an hour in no man’s land.  It rained on us for four hours and of course being from Vegas, we had no rain gear.  Vic got a flat but was so cold he was unable to change the tire.  We rode into a small town and had the flat fixed at a local bike store, bought rain coats and went into Frank’s Hot Dogs restaurant for warmth and food (maybe we should have had breakfast after all).  Of course, these activities would be considered unusual practices for such an event.

On the subject of unusual practices, we also decided to get more comfortable so we peddled to a laundry mat and borrowed towels from strangers while we put our soaked clothes in the dryer.  This was a ridiculous scene, Vic had a tiny pink towel.  My towel had so many holes, how you wrapped it around your waist mattered.  We were standing there shivering with our backs up against the dryers for 40 minutes while waiting for our clothes to dry.  There are a lot of surveillance cameras in Vegas, but none here!

180 miles into the race … while peddling in the dark on the shoulder of some freeway, without lights, the race director calls foul and removes us from the course.

And while we whimpered and shivered in the back of the van, they called in our names as DNF (Did Not Finish).  The misery of defeat!  All I wanted now was a Ho Ho (yeah, same family as the cup cake) and Thai food.  I’d been dreaming and talking about my Ho Ho fantasies for hours now.

This was only the second time I failed to finish a road ride.  The first time occurred when attempting to finish the Death Valley Double Century … need I explain?

Dehydration Science Project in Palm Springs

My friend Joe and I did a 101 mile bicycle ride today called the Tour de Palm Springs. In the cycling world, these are referred to as “centuries”. Because I am planning on doing a few Ironman triathlon races this year it is important to do some cycling training.  And since I never have enough time to train like real athletes do, I devise foolish schemes to enhance my endurance and ability to suffer through such fun.

It was a fairly hot day, I’m guessing it had to be in the 80’s.  I have never been on a century and seen more flat tires.  Literally hundreds of people got flats.  A group of 10 of us got lost while my friend Joe was leading the pack.  My excuse was that I was dehydrated.  So our distance ended up being about 107 miles.

How did I enhance the suffer factor you might ask?  I did the entire race without any liquids.  During this kind of science project one learns to maximize finite resources, e.g., various fluid conservation tricks.  The mental determination to ride the last few miles while staring at my unloved water bottles – without taking a swig – took unusual levels of determination.  This is not a training tip, don’t ever try this.

What sharks? Reflections on the 2005 Western Australia Ironman

While my job is my #1 hobby, I also find it relaxing to suffer through endurance events. Take the 2005 Western Australia Ironman, for example. If you have not heard of such events, Ironman races are triathlons – long ones – consisting of a 2.4 mile swim followed by a 112 mile bike ride and wrapped up with a 26.2 mile marathon run. The pros do it in just over 8 hours and if you take longer than 16 hours they pluck you off the race course.

Generally I worry about just finishing these events, the risk being I never have the time to train like the rest of the real athletes. But with this event came an additional point of tension. Sharks.

Sharks didn’t even really enter my mind until I chatted with a real Ironman athlete who was sitting next to me on my flight to Australia. He said they use sonic buoys in the water on the swim course as they are proven to drive the sharks away – he added that the Western Australia Ironman is the only such triathlon in the world that uses such devices. This came about the prior year after there was a shark attack up the coast a few weeks before last year’s race. Comforting.

On Saturday, November 26th, the day before the race I was required to attend a mandatory race briefing. The swim director basically announces the following: "About the "S" word, we are aware of the recent report from the attack up the coast. To address this concern we are going to have a plane circling to look for the "S" word. If the safety team in kayaks on the race course begin to blow their whistles continuously, this means the race has been canceled for some reason. In which case, you are to swim to the wooden Bussleton jetty and fashion yourselves onto the wooden cross beams. Do not, I repeat do not attempt to swim back to the shore. You must wait for a motorized vehicle to pluck you from the jetty. The pre-race briefing continued by saying the good news is there are more deaths from lightning than the "S" word. The bad news is that a thunder and lightning storm is in the weather forecast for tonight and tomorrow morning." Comforting.

It was hard to sleep the night before the race and the thunder and lightning just added to the suspense.

The next morning the race was postponed by 30 minutes due to lingering lightning in the area. There were no sonic buoys that I know of and due to the weather conditions it appeared there were no "S" word spotting planes. My last coherent thought before swimming straight out to sea for over a mile then back was that I might be thrashing in the water like an injured seal more so than the rest of the athletes because the last time I had been swimming was on July 17th when I competed in the 2005 Zurich Ironman. Comforting.

Needless to say I lived. I also achieved my most fundamental goal … not to be last and to beat at least one chick. My time was 12 hour and 55 minutes and as usual there was nothing comfortable about it. I think I will do three Ironman races this year.