Failure?...or this is where two dimensional reasoning gets you.

I was thinking about a high school geometry class earlier today. I spend a lot of time thinking about triangles. More specifically, I was thinking about points.

One point is a point in time/space. 
Two points make a line.
Three points create (potentially) a three-dimensional plane - although the math guru I spawned  would say: "but do not necessarily define a line -- they may not be collinear."
To summarize:  You need three points, at least if you are going to watch Avatar in 3D. You'll probably also need those geeky glasses too, though.

So after I sat down and let the blood rush back to my brain after these esoteric thoughts mathematical , I started to put into perspective a half marathon I ran on the weekend.  My goal was to finish in under two hours. I finished in 2 hours, 3 minutes and change. My personal best for that course is 1:58:48, my first ever run at that distance - and that course was 2:40 and change.

Ignoring the fact that I have been training for my first Marathon (two Ironman finishes don't count) at the end of May and am not completely focused on speed, I initially felt like I failed.

Of course I failed. All the other cool kids are running 1:40s or 1:50s...So what if I'm "big boned" and still running heavy and asthmatic and not very fast over long distances.  I still wanted to get from point A to point B in less than two hours, and I failed. didn't I?

Well. This is why I started thinking about geometry and Euclid, or was that Pythagoras - some Greek in any case. I became aware that my goals have been too two dimensional. I've been thinking about two points, when I should be thinking about three, or four or more.

My goals, as obtuse as they may sometimes seem, are so much more than point A to point B. They involve so many more dimensions, including time - but not necessarily finish time. They include building a healthy life, growing with my family, shrinking girth, and genuinely learning from the journey.

When I crossed the finish line,  I was disappointed. But I have to look at all the individual segments or points of the run  including the points that I was running a 4 minute/km pace; the preparation for it;  the ongoing prep for the full marathon in May and the sprint triathlon in two weeks. Oh and the rest of life that never goes on pause.

I realize that this triangle may not be as easily defined as  a2 + b2 = c2, but it has more relevance to what I'm doing than I first assumed. 

For those of you that are mathematically inclined, you will recall that a sum of a triangle's angles add up to 180 degrees. As I was running 21.1k, preparing to run 42.2k, it became acutely obvious to me that I would be seeing that 180 number before the run...180k bike ride in late August. Coincidence? Hmmm.There are no coincidences!

It is time to pull up my big boy tri shorts and HTFU. I started this journey because I grew tired of looking like a cuddly rhombus. It is not individual races or goals of finish times that motivate me. It is doing the training and building structures, physical, intellectual and emotional where none previously existed. And learning as much about myself in the process as I can.

No, not failure. Eureka!
I'd better get out of the bathtub now.

Is it time yet?

The great Orson Welles, after he became great "topographically", as well, did a series of tv ads for a wine company urging that no wine will be sold before it is time.

That catch phrase comes to mind a lot this time of year as I start to look forward to increasing the training I have to do and the races for which I have to prepare.

For the most part, the snow has melted. Yesterday,  I ran in shorts. I had my first tri-bike ride on the highway and the bike commuting to work has begun. Swimming outdoors is still two months away - even with a wetsuit, however.

I'm fully aware that the weather may change and I may have to return to doing all my training indoors again, albeit, for a few days. But that would be little more than a minor setback.

But is it time yet? For the first-time triathlete or endurance athlete, getting ready for the first season is all about focus on one thing - getting to the event ready to compete...or win...or survive.

For the athlete with one or three or more race seasons under her race belt, this is a time of prepping for balance. Balance between disciplines. Nutritional balance. Work-life balance. Most importantly, family balance. This is one thing that I'm still trying to learn.

In my first year, I tried to not sacrifice family time by just getting up earlier and earlier. So I was on the trail or on my bike at 5 or 6 am. This worked. (Sorta worked the woman I share my bed with would add). I missed lots. And the long runs and bike rides taking me out of the house for 5 to 7 hours did just that...kept me out of the house.

This year is going to be more about planning time around family. Including them in the training when possible, but being much more flexible when I do what I need to do to show up to the event ready to compete...or survive.

A big part of this is remembering not to stress if I miss a planned training session.

Stick to plan, that is wise
When you can't, improvise!

Catchy phrases aside, I have a sneaking hunch that this is going to be a great year for me both athletically and emotionally. I'm really looking forward to pushing myself hard to see what the third time at the big race will yield.

I'm even more looking forward to relaxing hard with those around me and thriving on their love and energy.

So, with respect to ramping up my training, yes, it is certainly time.

With respect to figuring out how to do this and not miss out on life, it's about time!

Bawdy Ink and Allegory.

I remember when I first embarked upon this TRIron-journey. The first question non-triathletes asked me, after "how far?" and "are you flippin' nuts?", was "are you going to get the tattoo?".

Now that was something everyone could understand. A tattoo. A permanent mark both recognizing and advertising the accomplishment. A brand...well, actually not a brand at all, more like a badge of honour. Branding is an entirely different kink.

I don't mean any sarcasm or misplaced witt in my words. The desire to celebrate an accomplishment is reasonable and justified. And I respect that. How one does it is a very personal and meaningful commitment to themselves or to those around them. Tattoos have a lot of history under them both personal and anthropological, other than those that are in some Asian script that actually spells "that ain't chicken".

So before I completed my first Ironman. My head was a-buzz with the merits of getting the M-dot. For all you noobs, that's what the call that M with a dot over it. It is actually a trademarked symbol. Its use in most of the media is somewhat strictly regulated - although not as much as the Olympics and their logo - but that "society" has a budget that rivals the Vatican.

I even recall some talk of tattoos with the M-dot having to have the Registered mark on them...but you can't believe everything you read, especially not online.

If you haven't figured it out just yet, symbols are just as important as words to me. And while I completely respect anyone's use of a now very commercial symbol on their body, I could not justify doing likewise. At least not without investing some additional meaning to it.

So on the advice of some very good friends and others who have seen me without clothes on, I came upon a design that included the M-dot, but was based on the stylized imagery of the individual events and my struggle to find proficiency. (still haven't found it by the way.) In addition, I also chose this to be a canvas in progress. Filling in the M-dots as I completed up to three Ironman races.

I found this to be the perfect marriage of making use of meaningful symbols and a nod to a recognizable, commercial entity, Ironman.

I was happy with the results a little anklet-like tattoo with swim bike run, one filled-in M-dot and two unfilled ones. The idea being that the unfilled ones would get filled as I completed more Ironman races.

Now I'm at two completed with another scheduled a few month hence. I haven't bothered to go "fill in" #2. Is it laziness? Fear of Hepatitis? Or do I just not want to stay away from swimming for a week or two for the expected crust to heal.

I think it goes deeper than the ink. It is the understanding of the finality of things. By completing this trio of ink it signals that I will be done. It will be over. Filling in #2 means #3 will need to be done soon too - if I ever complete the IMC in August.

Then what? More races...Silverman? Something more extreme?  Eating at KFC? More tattoos? Do I stop racing? Do I switch to branding or piercing? Or do I just suck it up and stop thinking about things so much.

Well. If I find a two week lull in my swim training, which I doubt, I might fill in #2...If not,  I will get it filled in after the race. Easy decision.

What about #3. Will I get that filled in then too?

Well, I know that I have acres of extra real estate on my body - even the small tracts that are unforested. But I don't really have any compulsion to get more ink, at least not of the iron variety.

So I'm seriously thinking of leaving one space unfinished...a hint that there will always be one more race. This could be my incentive to keep the spirit and soul of this lifestyle alive.

In some ways, it is a bit like the birthmark in  Nathaniel Hawthorne's story. Only in reverse. Adding it will foreshadow the end.

So who would have thunk that getting some ink in your body would end up being allegorical. Interesting things happen to one's body and mind when we are pushed to our limits.

Volunteering and race karma

Let me just state for the record that I believe in race karma.

I know, I know, sources very close to me will argue until they are blue in the face that it is all coincidence, that if you roll a six,  you will not change your odds for the next roll.

But if you have been following this blog through its presumptuous, circuitous meanderings over the past couple of months, you will appreciate that I believe that everything one does to prepare for a race will make a difference (good or bad) on race day.

I know, I know there is always the unplanned for, unpredictable fluke of luck or misfortune. But you can prepare for that by working on dealing with improvisation. Not theatre sports. Rather,  knowing how to take a breath;  evaluating the crisis and seeing how and if you can proceed and not end your day many miles before the finish line.

This is where the volunteering comes in.

When you volunteer for a race, or for a club, you are doing something that could, potentially, make you feel good - unless you are doing it to spite someone - but spite turns some people on, so whatever turns your Dura ace 7800.

By volunteering, you are making it possible for people that you may not even know to participate in something that scares, thrills or challenges them and that can, potentially, change their lives.

All this for showing up, hanging around and then having some stale donuts and cold coffee.

I know some of these volunteers. They don't race. But they show up, event after event and participate in their own way. They make the event possible for countless others and make future events possible just by contributing to the events' success.

Volunteering can also prepare you for a race though.

When you show up and set up a race and help racers and take down the race, you see some incredible things. Well, you also discover why public nudity should be enforced better at races, at least!

You can also see where racers make mistakes how they fix them, if they can, and how the MOP and BOPs get through the challenge. You will also see how the truly graceful  Front Of Pack racers have refined their skills so that it sometimes seems that they are not even racing at all, but just enjoying themselves.

You see this as a volunteer. If you learn from this it becomes part of your race prep.When you learn from this participation, your databank grows to way beyond your own race experience. It begins to include the experiences of all those around you. You can't get that from a book! Well, maybe you can, but it would have to be a really thick book, with lots of pictures and a bibliography.

The past few weeks have been a tough for being a volunteer. This is work in the trenches. Doing stuff that no one will notice, unless it doesn't go well, then everybody will notice. And stuff didn't go well. Curse you Interweb!

It has not involved setting up the race, but ensuring that everyone knows what is going on, where to register, how to pay, and all the administrivia that most only have to deal with once per race.

But I learned stuff. Through the comments and the complaints and the perseverance of those around me, working equally hard to get the races ready for the racers, I took multitasking to a new level. I learned how to dump my computer's cache, I learned what it feels like to miss a couple of training days in a row. I learned a few more choice swear words in txt messaging.

Most of all, I learned how to just get the job done. And I did get my job done.

And that is no different than on race day. You have to get from Point A to Point B (there could be many points if this is one of those new fangled point to point races, so don't nitpick!).

There will be obstacles in your way. Snow, cold, wind, waves flats, bonks, crashes, hills, blisters...the list is practically endless. You just need to HTFU and get it done, even if getting it done means cutting your losses and planning for the next race.

So. In a few days,  I will race in a local, minor, insignificant,  "C" race. This race always kicks my ass. But you can bet, I'll be there volunteering and setting up just before I set up my transition.

Why? Because volunteers helped make this race happen again this year. And if I want to have it kick my ass again next year, I'd better do everything I can do to make it a success.

I have no illusions about my athletic aspirations. I'm a Middle Of Pack kinda guy. I won't win and I don't need to win, but I do need to race.  Race karma doesn't care how or where I place. But I won't even have a chance to use my race karma if there is no race. So I volunteer and I increase race karma and I learn from race to race, regardless of whether I'm wearing the race bib or handing it out.

Cell phones on Race Day.

So they have passed this new law here.
Drivers can't talk on the phone or text while they drive. Not a bad idea. I've seen too many drivers - especially as a cyclist and runner - not even notice me because they where on their mobile devices, concentrating on where to find the @.

Although there are huge fines and demerit points for those that get caught, it is next to unenforceable other than at spot check kind of situations. I still think it is a good idea and will, eventually take hold like it has in some parts of Europe - not because it is illegal, but because it is just wrong to be holding a phone and driving.

But then there is the frustration. You know how locked doors only keep honest people out. Well. Every so often, I get a call or text while on the road. And it is really not possible to pull over and stop.

This happened today while I was driving with Second Born. I quickly recruited her into reading the text and answering. It worked really slick.

But as with all unrelated things this incident got me thinking about endurance sports and what draws me to the longer distances.

I'm an age grouper. I'm not aiming to podium or FOP and sometimes MOP turns into BOP. That is clear. But even though I wont likely jump to the Front Of the Pack, I'm still in these races to finish and to finish standing, upright, smiling and hopefully, at least a little, breathless.

In the car, I had Second Born do my work for me. In some shorter events, MOPs can just show up and race and be done. Training is secondary little work is really done. Someone else is really doing all the work at their races.

Don't get me wrong, the contenders in these races, even those cursed with balsa wood bones and lightening speed, train and train hard. Some, however, just do a little running and stuff a few weeks before the race and get by with that. And that's fine, but it is like making the destination the most important part of the journey.

Can't do that for an iron distance race. You just can't phone it in. You have to start training early, you have to train hard and you have to train smart. No one can do this for you.

If you show up unprepared, you will end up at the side of the road seeing the inside of your stomach convulsing in the open air right in front of your bulging eyes.

As for me, I like to finish races. I love to finish races, it means I can rest. The races themselves? Well...

What motivates me is seeing my progress through the months of training. Pushing myself more and more every week, then resting. Then pushing harder.

The destination is not the race, the destination is what I can achieve through the training. The six hour solitary bike ride to nowhere and back is the journey that will get me there.

The four hour run - just to see if I can do it - is just one of the signposts. The soupçon of chlorine on my skin is the tattoo.

I just signed up for a bunch of short races to prime my training as I work towards the Marathon and Ironman I have have planned this season.

I'm not looking forward to getting up even earlier to get in the training before my family misses me. But I am yearning for the euphoric jolt I get as the training takes hold and that quiet confidence fills me on race day.

I won't be phoning anything in, except maybe the news that I didn't drown when I call my mother after the race.

Deviant Triathletes

Recently, after a visit to the doctor and some conversations with athletic and non-athletic friends I started thinking a lot about deviance.

Now deviance is not anything new to me, I've leaned left centre and right of left and below the horizon in one way or another since I figured out what rules were. Others have called it going against the grain, or trendsetting, or even being an anarchist. It is all about being a unique individual, just like everyone else.

But having revelled in the danse macabre a few times, I prefer to look at the unsightly underbelly of zigging when the everyone else is zagging.

That's why I always visit pawn shops in every new town I find myself in, I like to see what is being traded just below the surface of polite society.

This is where the deviants used to swim. Increasingly though, there has been a sea change of what is normal and what is not.

One definition of deviant is: One that differs from a norm, especially a person whose behaviour and attitudes differ from accepted social standards.

This definition got me thinking about triathletes, especially Iron ones and other endurance athletes.

Where I live I'm surrounded by endurance athletes and Iron folk. I know dozens of them. The training and the dedication and the commitment to this kind of lifestyle is normal in this group.

But take one sidestep into polite society - at work or with extended family and, all of a sudden, I become the sideshow freak; the fodder for conversation and the source of disbelief as I go swimming at lunch time, instead of visiting the buffet.

In the news media and the popular infotainment media we are starting to get more images of people doing extreme things - including endurance sports. From basejumping to extreme surfing, tv viewers are seeing images of people engaged in untraditional activities in High Def. Swimming and biking and running - especially in lava fields is high on the list of these extremities.

Meanwhile, these same news and infotainment medias are also demonstrating how normal people are choosing to live and behave. Think Biggest Loser or the countless reports of obesity and the unbelievable wealth of the diet/weightloss industry.

Every day a new report seems to be published claiming that one ailment or another is caused by sitting too much or watching too much TV or eating any processed food.

It seems, in my little oxygen deprived mind, that the new normal is the couch sitting, tv watching, binge exercising, overworking, sleep deprived, crap consuming set.

Think of ten friends. How many of them engage in an active, non-sedentary lifestyle?  Think of those that do. It's easy to consider them as freaks when you hear that they get up at five a.m. to run, or swim on a Sunday night or go for a regular walk after dinner.

This brings me back to triathletes. A triathlete does stuff to the extreme. Not one sport, but three. Not one hour a day of exercise but two or four or more!

They eat strange stuff - gels and powdery concoctions and some even cook whole foods from scratch and eschew processed, fried calories from unknown sources.

And the clothes. Well. Every kink has to have a uniform. This one goes from head to toe compressing skin, showing bare bodies, making everything aerodynamic and covering up with colours that may not necessarily appear in nature.

And although triathletes are often solitary and choose to engage in their passion alone, they often come together to compete, to compare training, to purchase new stuff,  and occasionally to mate.

Does this not meet the definition of deviant listed above?

So the conversation with the doctor alluded to above was something like "you have very low BP and heart rate. At your age, I would expect to see you getting older, not younger. It isn't really normal. Do you exercise a lot?" 

So this is how my personal deviance has evolved from its anarchistic roots. There are far more destructive fetishes out there.

Now where did I put those day-glow orange Newton shoes and compression stockings?

Put your ear down close to your sole and listen hard.

I've had a bit of a shoe fetish lately.

Let me explain. I'm at a bit of a crossroad. My beloved NB 768s were "upstyled" with the 769s that just don't fit my wide feet - unless I go to a size that would make Bozo proud. 

Getting the right shoes has been a bit of an evolution for me. The first "running" shoes that were recommended to me and that I bought when I first started running for distance five years ago were a scary pair of motion control Frankenstein Boots that I wore for maybe two months before realizing that, just because I was "big boned", didn't mean my feet should be nailed to the ground. 

Since that time, I've stuck with one brand and traded off their relative heaviness and homeliness for the wide comfort and reliability they provided. 

It was a couple of months before Ironman Canada last year that I learned of the style and last change in the 768s. I scrambled and found a pair before they were all gone.  

I knew that I would have to start looking for new shoes eventually. This was also, ironically, about that time that I started to develop very tight calves and plantar fasciitis-like symptoms. And to think I've always respected Mr. Peanut. In hindsight, (and from looking at my big butt in the mirror) I think the leg/foot problems originated from a carrying a little too much extra weight.

At the advice of some and the horror of others,  I picked up a pair of Newton guidance trainers at the tradeshow at Ironman Canada in Penticton. Unlike many Newton noobs that I was amazed to look at, broken down at the side of the run course clutching their calves or nursing blisters, I did not wear my new shoes for the race. Nor did I  touch them until IMC was long done and over. 

If you are looking for a review, you won't find it here. Nor will you find a lengthy discussion of the merits of forefoot, midfoot or barefoot running. Although I have wasted many hours reading others' blogs, reports, articles and diatribes on the subject. I think I even had a few naughty dreams that involved thigh-high vibrams, but I digress.

I did start wearing the Newtons - but only indoors - treadmill and track. In the wintry outdoors I'm still wearing my last pair of  the 768s, as I still have a few hundred kms left in them. 

During all this experimentation, I have changed how I run. I wasn't a heel striker before, but I've moved even more of my efforts further to the front on my foot - probably the reason I'm still getting tight calves. 

One of most interesting experiments was running barefoot on the treadmill where I found that I was naturally favouring the front part of my foot - as I had been intellectually favouring with the fancy shoe technology. 

One word of advice to others who want to try this: The blisters start forming after 20 minutes of constant running. 

Everyone should try barefoot running, by the way. It is like running like a kid again. Golf course, beach, treadmill or track...anywhere you won't find glass, nails, snow, ice or lit cigarette butts is good.                                                    But I can't remain a podianudist. I have to start thinking about shoes. I have my first half marathon of the season in April and will be attempting my first ever marathon in late May - yes I ran the marathon in several IMs but that doesn't count does it?

I'll have to wait until the snow melts before I can get some serious distance on my Newtons before I make a decision on them. But I'll have to look at some other options. I hear that there might be a few other shoe companies out there that make shoes for wide feet. Maybe Newtons will be what I go with it is too early to tell.

In the process, my calves need to relax a little and Mr. Plantars Peanut has to get the hell out of my right foot and ankle. 

The snow melt is coming soon and the running mileage is beginning to ramp up. I'm looking deep into my soul, as Anne Sexton advised, and trying to listen to what my feet are telling me. Will this year be year that I evolve into more than just a triathlete who runs...