The Season Ending Big 4

I'm not one to brag, not in the traditional sense anyway. My form of bragging tends to be focused on data. I swam/ bike/ ran this much distance and I felt good/ great/ pansy. When I report race results, again, I focus on the data. What place? How many people? How many chicks passed me? What place in my age group? Rarely do I feel a sense of accomplishment in which I actually feel I am better than another. Even if I finished ahead of you, had a faster _______ (insert bragging right here), I still don't think that I'm better than you. Quite the opposite. I normally feel that pretty much everyone on the planet is better than me.

Occasionally there comes an accomplishment that I want to share. Yes, I am bragging a bit. But, understand, it's only because this has never happened to me before. I have been a triathlete since the turn of the century. I have been a dedicated triathlete since 2003. I have been an Ironman triathlete since 2007. Not only has the 2011 season been my busiest triathlon season, I did something that I had not done before. This simple fact alone may be a reason to count my season a success, despite my horrid experience in several races and relative suckiness.

My triathlon season started off at Keuka Lake, where I did the Olympic Distance event. Shortly thereafter, I developed a knee problem. It started to resolve itself just in time to do the Musselman Sprint Distance event. That race didn't go as well as planned, but it I had a good time anyway. Next up was the big race of the year (both literally and metaphorically), Ironman Lake Placid. The knee injury manifested itself making the run more excruciating than expected. I hated it so much that I signed up again next year. After that disappointment, I signed up for a few shorter races. I culminated the 2012 season, part 2 with Half Ironman Syracuse. Upon crossing the line, I had done all 4 major triathlon distances in the same season.

I don't know why, but I am rather proud of this accomplishment. See, I kinda live in my own world. I have a warped sense of reality. I think that I am mostly right and only occasionally wrong. Most people completely misunderstand my genius, despite it's overwhelming obviousness. I can fix most problems with very minimal thought. Just ask and I'll tell you how. Luckily for you, I am also humble. So take this next sentence with those facts in mind... I am a god! I don't think that there are many people in the world who have done this before.

Okay, I know that there has been at least one other person who has done it before (I can't fathom a universe where I would be the first). But, that information is completely unconfirmed. For 1, USAT doesn't really publish this data. For 2, most triathletes probably don't have blogs in which they discuss this sort of thing (I don't read enough to confirm that last thought). For 3, triathlon is rather expensive and the majority of Americans cannot afford it (coming as an unofficial DINK, what else have I got to spend my meager salary on?). For 4, did I mentioned that I am isolated from the rest of the triathlon world? There's a good chance that every 2 out of 3 triathletes do this on a weekly basis. But, since I don't really get out that much (it's Friday night and I am blogging), I actually have no idea.

Here's the thing: Now that I have done the Big 4, I don't know what I am going to do for the rest of the season. What else have I got to accomplish? I've done the Sprint. I've done the Oly. I've done the HIM. I've done the IM. In a matter of speaking, I'm done. I have no where else to go. I might as well give up now. Luckily for me, I don't have much of a choice in the matter. Whether I like it or not, my season is over. Fini. Kaput. There are simply no more races to be had. Triathlon is officially over north of the Mason-Dixon line. The sun has moved to the southern hemisphere. Darkness outlasts daylight. Temperatures are plummeting. There simply is no more 2011 Triathlon season. I might as well start planning next year...

(To be continued)

Race Review- Syracuse 70.3 Swim

This was my second A-race of the 2011 season. The first A didn't go so well and I needed a redemption race (mostly for personal self-esteem). Ironman Syracuse 70.3 seemed like a good fit into my schedule. It's at a good time of year. It's a good distance. I felt ready.

Pre-Race
The last time I have done a half-Iron distance race was back in 2005. And by last time, it was also my first time. I did the Musselman, nearly collapsed in the 90º+ heat, walked a bunch, and said, "Yup, I'll do an Ironman." I signed up for IM Lake Placid and haven't done the half-distance since. This certainly isn't the most intelligent way to get IronDistance ready but I'm not claiming to be an intelligent guy.

When I do IMLP, I start planning almost a full year in advance. I need to develop a training plan. I need lodging. I start thinking about last year's plan and make changes in hopes for improvement. I signed up for Syracuse about 4 weeks ahead of schedule. I had no plan (I can't remember much from 2005 let alone my race experience). I made a room reservation on the Thursday before the gun. This A-race has a completely different feel.

One reason that there are very few triathlons in the Western NY area after Labor Day can be blamed on the temperate climate. As the sun makes its way towards sticking its hot pointy noise at the equator, it inadvertently steals heat from the north. There is some residual heat which doesn't normally make an appearance until afternoon. The morning, however, is a different story. The sunrise temperature was a blustery 44º F. A little colder and I'd have to drive home and cover my tomato plants. Instead, I was preparing to shed my clothes and go for a swim. Again, I'm not claiming to be an intelligent guy.

To prove my idiocy further, I have been having a string of pea-brained moments before my races. In the last race, I had forgotten to bring my cap, goggles, and timing chip. This time, I had left half of my race day nutrition in the car. This isn't so bad until you realize that the car was about a third of a mile away from my bike. Fortunately, I was slated to start in the 9th wave, roughly 45 minutes after transition had closed. I had time.

Having already made the trek once this morning, I got to walk back to pick up 3 packets of gel and one bottle of water. Weighted down with an additional 300 calories and 20 ounces of fluid, I got to repeat the rocky path for the third time this morning completing the mile walking warm-up in sub-arctic temperatures. A nice volunteer turned her back as I negotiated my way towards my bike to deposit my plunder and my race day was ready to start.

The Swim
The swim course was featured a 2 point turn. To complete the 1.2 mile voyage, we first had to travel about 600 yards to the first buoy. We were heading north and the sun was on the right, my breathing side. Stroke, breath, squint. Repeat. With a nice fog misting off the lake's surface, the light never reached its full blinding potential. I had 2 main challenges in this portion of the race. First, I was searching for feet to pace/ draft. After about a hundred yards, it was obvious that I had picked someone adequate but not outstanding. Since I am neither intelligent nor patient, I jumped feet and sped up in search for a more worthy draft. Second, even though we were five minutes behind the 8th wave, it didn't take me and the other lead swimmers too long to catch the lag swimmers. I can't normally swim straight in a pool with guiding lines. Now, I added slalom style swimming to avoid triathletes as I stroked past.

At the first buoy, we made a 90º right hand turn to head directly into the sun. The mist served to only help the sun hide the course markers. I struggled to find my way for the roughly 400 yards from one turn buoy to the next. Based on the body language of the other swimmers, I wasn't the only one. The lifeguards on duty were doing a fantastic job of keeping us safe but they were horrible tour guides. They mostly kept to themselves.

After arriving at the next and final turn buoy, I made another 90º turn. This proved to be a mistake. The turn should have been closer to 120º to angle back to the swim finish. I found this out about 100 yards later. With 900 yards (just over a half mile left), I slowly made my way back to the line. Now, the path was littered with swimmers from at least 3 waves in front of mine, as evidenced by their swim cap colors. One thing I did not see was anyone with my color. I was either leading my wave or stuck in no-man's-land.

It turned out to be the latter. I was around 28 minutes in the first lap at Lake Placid. Given that the race is shorter in distance and I am in better swimming shape than I was 8 weeks ago, I was anticipating at least a sub-30 minute swim. Alas, it wasn't in the cards. I hopped onto the shore and noticed 2 things. First, the temperature hadn't increased much in the past half hour. Cold settled on to my wet body like lint on velcro.

Second, I glanced up at the race clock. It was ticking steadily and showing 1:06 with some change. Having started 35 minutes later than the lead wave, I calculated my swim time at 31 minutes. I ran to the strippers who peeled off my wetsuit with significantly more efficiency I could muster solo. Mostly naked, I made the 0.18 mile run through the arctic tundra known as the parking lot from the beach to the transition area (which did not increase my warmth factor).  Officially, my time was 31:18, good enough for 6th in my age group.

Except for a little bit slower than expected time, I had no major issues with the swim. I would advise the race organizers to go counterclockwise in the swim, thus negating the sun factor for a majority of the race. The water was calm. Despite the wave swim, the amount of physical bumping and grinding was at a minimum. This was a pretty good venue for a triathlon swim.

Stay tuned for the next post: Syracuse 70.3- Bike Review.

Race Review and Results- Rochester Triathlon

Saturday marked the First Annual Rochester Triathlon. I had mixed feelings about this event. Translation: I thought there were some goods and some bads. So, let's get on with it.

The Venue

http://nyfalls.com/board/viewtopic.php?f=4&t=2621

The race was a sprint distance triathlon at Durand Eastman Park Beach on Lake Ontario. I'm pretty sure the RD of this race polled the locations in the area and asked them, "Who wants to hold a triathlon?" Durand Eastman jumped up and down waving its hands in the air yelling "Ooh, ooh, pick me pick me." That park is a hard one to turn away. It's right on the lake. It's got some nice running paths, biking paths, picnic areas, parking areas, sand, and sun. It's got it all.  The good people at Score-This provided the timing. Boom, a race was born.

Plus, this race is within easy biking distance from my house. The Wife and I set out at a time later than normal for any other race. It was also a sneaky way to get me to do a warm-up, which as you know is not something that I do on a regular basis.

The Race
Transition closed at 6:45. Naturally, I did not leave until about 6:52. I was not the last person out, just in case you wanted to know. In fact, there were no less than 2 people running into transition as I was walking towards the beach. They weren't procrastinators, just forgetful. I didn't stick around to see what they were missing. 

The Sprint Distance race featured a swim at the upper limit of the distance with an 800 yard (1/2 mile) triangle shaped lap. Lake Ontario could not have cooperated more. I have never seen the Great Lake with enough vengeance that would inspire a Gordon Lightfoot song but I have practiced at this exact location with 4 foot swells and crushing white caps. It can get mean at times. Not during this race. The waterfront was nearly glass with some smallish ripples. It may have the calmest water conditions for a race this year. I elected to do this race without a wetsuit, once again handing my suit over to the Wife (who tells me that she likes swimming in the neoprene protective force field).

There were 2 waves: boys then girls separated by 6 minutes. We left the beach and headed east by northeast. It wasn't hard to navigate. With a 7:00 am start time coupled with a 6:30 sunrise, all we had to do was spot the nice, flaming ball of hydrogen/ helium and swim just a tad bit to the left. If you were blinded, you were too far right. If you could see clearly, you were too far left. You needed to find just the perfect combination of eye-sting and comfort in order to stay on course. Once you hit the first turn buoy, the sun was at your back and your vision was completely restored. I exited the water in 25th place overall.

Upon finishing the swim, there was a short climb from the beach to the transition area. Despite the uphill run, there were a couple of aspects on this jaunt which proved awesome. First, the normally wood-chipped mulch path was covered by 'welcome-mat' style runners. Much better to run on. Second, halfway up the path, they set-up a small, inflatable kiddie pool for racers to wash sand off their feet. With just a quick step into and out of the pool, you could wash the grime and sand off the soles without breaking your stride and wasting valuable seconds toweling off your toes.

Once in transition, I opted to go topless. If you recall my last race, I struggled getting my tri-top on over a wet torso. I decided that a shirt was mostly unnecessary and did the whole race mostly naked. This cut my transition time down to reasonable levels. My transition time was less than a minute and good enough for 8th overall.

The bike course was the most unique of the races thus far in my tri career. Imagine a capitol letter 'P'. The bike course started at the bottom of the 'P', turned right at the first intersection, went around the loop, and returned to the point. So far, this is not out of the ordinary, until you realize that this entire loop was a bit over 3 miles. A sprint distance is scheduled to be around 13 miles on the bike. The course had us do a hairpin turn at the base of the 'P' and do the entire thing over again. For a total of 4 times.

Lap 1 was a bit uneventful. The loop portion of the P started uphill and finished downhill.The hills were short and I was aggressive.  I was able to pick up several places on the guys in front of me. After the first lap, I hairpinned to start the next and had to merge with oncoming traffic as some of the slower swimmers and ladies in the second wave were starting their first lap. As the bike continued, there was more of the same, only now the path was getting more crowded with bikers. We had more than 200 people vying for a 3 mile path.

USAT rules were tossed out the window. Illegal passing on the right? Happened. Drafting? Happened. Blocking by riding consistently on the left? Happened. Littering by dropping gear on the course? Happened. (Aside: The course was not the best paved of park roads. Plus, at one end of the course, a park road merged with a main road. There was a nice bump at the intersection. I lost my backup innertube, my levers, and my CO2 dispenser at some point on the course. The velcro strap that attached them to my bike was also completely missing. The course was jarring. After the race, I did bike the course looking for my lost gear but it seemed like someone had cleaned up. Rats. Now I must go buy anew. End Aside.) Using a recombinant bike? Ok, I won't stoop that far. Despite the slalom through the other riders, I was able to put forth a rather decent bike time. I had the 10th fastest bike ride on the day and hit transition in 7th place overall.

In transition 2, I was a little bit slower than expected. I took the time to put on socks. That means I was able to dismount, run to my bike area, rack my bike, don socks and shoes, and finally run out of transition. I did all of that in a slow poke time of 42 seconds, which was good enough for 51st out of the group. What was interesting was that I was faster than the other guy in transition and managed to move up a notch. I left T2 in 6th.

His shiny 2nd place award

The final leg was as simple as you can get. There is a running path along the lake shore. Run for 1.55 miles. There was an arrow on the ground with a volunteer (conveniently chatting on his cell phone). Find that spot, turn around and head back. I had hoped for a sub-7:00 pace. I had recently been working hard on my short season and I wanted to get some 'speed' back in my legs. I ran my first mile at a 6:30 pace and still got passed by one dude (my guess is he was the bloke that I beat in transition). My second mile was slower as it included the uphill of the run. And, I got passed by another bloke. On the third mile, I felt strong but tapped out of speed. I had enough juice in the tank but the rpm's seemed to be maxed out. I got passed by bloke #3 with roughly a quarter mile left. I finished the run with the 16th fastest run on the day. I was 9th place overall and second in my age group. In case you were wondering, the run data from the 3 guys that beat me went as follows: Bloke 1 was the 5th fastest runner, Bloke 2 was the 3rd fastest runner, and Bloke 3 was the 11th fastest runner on the day. They were really good runners as my pace was a 6:48 per mile. Bloke 2 was in the upper  5 minute per mile range.

Her shiny 2nd place award

The Wife had success in her version of the race. She won her age group in the swim. She took her time in transition (which was her game plan the entire time, regardless of the wetsuit). She was second in her age group on the bike. She, again, took her time in transition (only this time, she was a bit faster compared to the rest of the clan). She did yell at me during the race twice. The first was when she was cheering for me. I had just started the run while she was starting her 4th lap of the bike. The second time was when I was about a quarter mile from the finish (bloke 3 just passed me) and she exclaimed, "This just isn't right." She was referring to the fact that I was done and she still had 3 miles left. Then, she rocked the run with a second place finish in her age group. She finished in 93rd place, was the 13th lady, and was second in her age group. That means the Banter household was 2 for 2 in second place age group finishes. Go us!

Thoughts About the Race
The swim was good, except for the swimming directly into the sun part. In the future, I would hope the race director would find a better way to control the sun. Or, at the very least, invest in a cloud making machine to block out the sun. The current technology on cloud making machines is weak, at best. But, clouds were only needed for about 15-20 minutes of the race, rendering this technology useful for race purposes.

I hope that the race directors change the bike course for the 2nd Annual. The bike course would actually be a deal breaker for me, which is a shame as I really like not driving to a race. However, 4 loops of a bumpy, crowded course was less than ideal. I felt like I got beat up and I definitely got bored of the course by the 3rd time around. To prove how brutal the race was, here are some pictures of my bike post-race.

The picture on the left shows how far the elbow pad on my aerobars shifted. The pad is normally parallel to the bar underneath. The picture on the right shows how much the aerobars themselves shifted. Normally, the levers are about 2 inches apart and level with each other. The lever on the left (right side in the picture) dropped down roughly 4 inches from its norm. The right lever (left side of the pic) dropped even further and warped itself past the center point. I was lucky to be able to shift gears by the end of the race. Using the appropriate tools (an allen wrench) I attempted to return the aerobars back to their normal position, which this far has been quite unsuccessful.

Now, in defense of the bike course, I believe that the race director did plan on a different course. The other course left the city of Rochester for a brief ride into the town of Irondequoit (which also happens to be the suburb in which I live). Irondequoit is pretty much flat broke. Yet, they still refused to issue the permits to allow people to race on its roads. I bet there is more to the story but I think I got the gist of it. Regardless of their reasons, I will select a different race next year if the bike course remains the same.

The run was as perfect as you could imagine. A few rolling hills. A beautiful lake to glisten the view. An out-and-back course which allows you to see your fellow competitors. No less than 3 people told me of my position in the race as I was finishing. Not that they needed to, I counted for myself but it was good to have validation.

The race was small in terms of participants. Less than 200 people registered for the race. I am in no way trying to dismiss the hard work and efforts of the RATS, the Race Director, nor the volunteers in this event. You guys and gals did a wonderful job hosting an outstanding event. When I originally set my race calendar for the 2011 triathlon year back in January, I had no idea that this race existed. I did scour the usual suspects for leads in races. It wasn't there (to the best of my knowledge which is sketchy under most circumstances). I only found the race by random chance (a flyer at the front desk of my YMCA). Granted, I know a little less than nothing about hosting and advertising for an event but I do wish that this race did a more efficient job at marketing. This was a good race for everyone (except for losers who don't like their aerobars to get discombobulated). Next year, there's bound to be a better showing.

The Redemption Race

This entire racing year has been kind of a roller coaster ride for me. At the beginning of the season, I was on top of the world. Since the world is mainly spherical, Western NY is obviously the top (as are all other locations on the planet according to Einstein's Theory of Relativity). Having done several running races, I proved that I am a God and you should surrender to my every whim my winter running program was a success, I couldn't have been happier. But, at the same time, my bike training had regressed. I did not attack the trainer as well as I could have (because, seriously, it's my basement). This was compounded by a crappy, cold, wet spring. Then, just as triathlon season got started, I had a knee injury. Already behind on the bike and falling behind on the run, racing speeds were down. Endurance was down. I was down. Then, my A-race hit and I had a less than stellar performance (which was not surprising). Yet, in my first race back from the downer, I put up unprecedented speeds. I can't figure this season out.

Here's the thing: The more I think about my IMLP performance, especially in the run, the less happy I get with the performance. This hinges on a silly belief that I should be getting faster as I gain experience. In each of my IM finishes in the past, I had bettered my previous PR by about 30 minutes. Because of that history, that's the expectation I have set myself. I am confident that I have not peaked in the 140.6 distance. I am also confident that I am a big, fat loser my 'poor' performance was a symptom of many things, some in my control and some out. None of that changes the results of what I feel was a sub-par race.

It kinda sucks how these sort of negative emotions/ self-talk continue to spiral. At first it started as a simple concern. Then it evolved to definite unease. Now, I'm a disgruntled postal worker with a gun. I'm not losing sleep. I'm not going to have race rage. But, I am doing what everyone else in my situation is doing... Carefully calculating out how I'm going to get back at that race next year. Damn you IMLP, I will have my revenge.

The problem is that next year is so far away. I need something more immediate.

It may have been racer remorse. It may have been the ego talking. It may have been that I was drunk off of some nice wine purchased at one of the wine festivals that I frequent. What ever the reason, the deed has been done. I have registered for the Syracuse 70.3.

Officially, the race is called the "Ironman Syracuse 70.3." When it comes to the word Ironman, I'm a bit of an idealist. Ironman is a distance of 140.6. Half-Ironman is a distance of 70.3. The World Triathlon Corporation, who kinda holds the rights to the brand of 'Ironman' has decided to abuse the Iron as much as possible. (Aside: To the best of my knowledge, Marvel Comics actually has the official trademark on the word. End Aside.) I can't really agree with this practice. At least in my mind, this is a half Iron, no matter what the WTC calls it.

HIM Syracuse takes place on September 18th and has now become my new A-race. I am structuring my training around a strong finish for a 1.2 mile swim, 56 mile bike, and a 13.1 mile run. I am also doing significantly more speed work. I do not wish to ignore the short season.

HIM Syracuse has many opportunities to give me.  I am looking at Syracuse as my long distance redemption for the race I wanted but never happened. I am looking as Syracuse as an opportunity to end the season on a high. I am looking at Syracuse to start my 2012 season. HIM Syracuse, you will be my whipping post. (Okay, maybe I have a little bit of race rage.)

2011 Short Season

If you read the literature, 'they' say that you need to take a few weeks off after your A-race to recover and re-charge the battery. 'They' also say that you don't want to start training too soon for your next big race, in fear that you will peak too early. By all calculations, I will start training for Ironman Lake Placid, 2012 edition in mid October. This seems like a good time to get started in base training. Fall coaching season will have concluded. October should have a few good days left for biking. The temperatures aren't so cold, nor are they warm. This makes for good running. Also, and I'm pretty sure it's not too early to make this prediction, but the Cubs probably won't be playing any baseball.

As I near the end of my recovery (more on this topic soon), I have to figure out what to do with myself between now and October. Contrary to what the rest of the country thinks, not exercising isn't all that much fun. It's still quite warm outside and there are several local races to be had.

Getting Back to My Roots
Way back in the day, I got started in triathlon via the Sprint tri. Even though I have picked up the Ironman disease, I actually prefer the short distances. In long course, the routine is all about pace. In short distance, the routine is all about speed. The IM is not a swim race, bike race, run race. A Sprint Tri is just that. There is very little reason to hold out, especially when your base is significantly deeper than the Sprint distance. Plus, I like the satisfaction of being done Lens Crafters style (in about an hour).

The major issue I have with the short stuff is that I'm pretty sure I have forgotten how to go fast. I haven't trained for speed in any of this disciplines. That is going to have to change. Workouts from now through October will be laden with speed (assuming that the knee can hold out) with the occasional long day tossed in to keep me honest.

Off to the Races
Summer Sizzler- August 13th. This extra short Sprint is on the edge of my recovery plan. I probably shouldn't race, but the Wife will be doing this as her first triathlon in many years. Plus, I like racing. Like I said, the race is shorter than normal, making this the ideal come-back race. At 400 yard swim, 17 k bike (~10.5 miles) and 3k run (~1.9 miles), the Wife and I can be done relatively quickly. The have a 'Formula 1" race option, which means that you would do everything twice without stopping. Not this year.

Rochester Triathlon *- August 27. This is the first year of this event hosted by the RATS (Rochester Area Triathletes) and I am curious. They are holding the race in a location that is screaming triathlon but has yet to be tapped. Sadly, the race organizers have not really posted much information on this race. If you go to their website (link provided) the course details are meager. And, if you read my blurb on race distances, you'd know that Sprint distances are open to interpretation. After a bit of digging, I found the following distances; .75k swim, 20k bike, 5k run (0.5, 12.4, 3.1 miles)

Fingerlakes Triathlon- September 11. This race has long been on my triathlon schedule and it tends to mark the last horrah for triathlon in the area. There are others later in the year but I may have to break my 2 hour traveling rule. That might happen. But, since school will have started back up, I proceed with caution. In the FLT, I will be doing the Sprint Distance race at Swim .45 mi, Bike 13 mi, Run 3.1 mi. I am making this my A race for the short season, so hopefully the pump will be primed for speed. FYI, this is the race in the Rochester area that I encourage any triathlon newbie or swimmer-nervous athlete. The water is shallow enough that you could virtually walk the entire swim.

Autumn Classic Duathlon*- October 2. Sigh. The triathlon season is officially over here. It's back to non-swimming events. I did this race a year ago, encouraged by the Wife who wanted to do a trail run. When given the option of just running, or biking and running, I picked the latter. While the Wife was out prancing through the trees, I was doing my (at the time) first ever Formula 1 duathlon. We ran 2 miles, biked 10, ran 2, biked 10, and again ran 2. That's RBRBR. It was kind a fun so I plan on doing it again.

*Denotes that I have not yet registered for this event as of this post.

Since fall is the season of the runner, I am sure there may be a 5k or 10k that may pop up on a whim. And, the whim generally means that a woman in my life has encouraged it (beit the Wife or one of the ladies I help train). Those are also fun to do as well.

If anyone knows of a good race (hopefully triathlon but will consider others) in late September or early October, please send it along. I do like racing. Racing keeps me motivated. Racing keeps me moving.

2011 Ironman Lake Placid- Run

The is the third and final installment in the Tri-Banter Ironman 2011 trilogy. Episode IV can be found here. Episode V can be found here. The prequel to the story can be found here. (Please note that I refuse to fully recognize Episodes I-III as valid sources of motivation, if you catch my meaning).

Transitioning from Bike to Run
On Ironman day, we are all Jedi and with it we have all of the powers and duties that come with the position. Already on this day have I traveled from (what seems like) one galaxy to the next. Instead of Endor or Hoth, we traveled to systems known as Keene, Jay, and Wilmington. Currently, the rebel base is set on the Lake Placid High School's skating oval.

Upon arriving into port, I hop off my bike and use my Jedi mind trick on the nearest volunteer. I wave my hand and speak out loud, "I don't need to rack my bike. You will do it for me." The volunteer laughs because, in this situation, I am the weak minded fool and my powers do not work on him. Still, he obliges my request by smiling, grabbing my bike and sending it off to docking bay 1355. I walk, not run, to the exact same place where I found my bike bag 6 hours earlier. On a hook just below my bike bag (which has miraculously reappeared through no fault of my own) are 2 more plastic bags, each with my number. The bag on the left has all of the stuff I wore in the morning. The bag on the right has everything I packed for the marathon. In this case, I have a pair of socks, pair of shoes, and 3 gels. I tend to pack lightly.

Again, there is a volunteer standing over me like I am a king and his duty is to serve. He does his job well. Since there are only 3 items in my batch, he sets them out in front of me in an orderly fashion. I do like to be doted on. I half expect him to have a few chocolates nestled on a silk pillow for me to sample but I sense a bit of urgency in the moment. It is a race after all and I am not inclined to make idle chit-chat during competition. While he's setting up my run stuff, I remove my bike stuff. Off with the helmet, sunglasses, gloves, and shoes. On with the socks and shoes. Into the rear pouch go the gels. I search my pockets for a tip to hand my waiter, realizing that not only don't I have any cash, I also don't have any pockets. I hate to dine and dash, but that's what I did. Sorry dude, I'll get you next time.

The Run
The run starts off down hill. This is nice. I had a dream of a 4 hour marathon. I did the math. In order to have a 4 hour 26.2 mile jaunt, I needed to average roughly 9 minutes per mile. This means getting to the 6.5 mile mark at 59 minutes and finishing the first lap in just under 2 hours. I also have this calculated out to the quarter mile. I set my Garmin to beep every 0.25 miles. I use this to my advantage in many ways. First, I use it as a reminder to check my heart rate. In racing, I can get caught up in the moment and sometimes my perceived levels of exertion lie to me. My goal was to stay in upper zone 1 or lower zone 2. For running, this equates to between 155-165 bpm. Second, I use the alert to check my pace. For example, if I am running at 8 minutes/ mile the beep hits every 2 minutes. At 10 minutes per mile, the beep is at 2:30. Simple addition is something that I am capable of mid run and it keeps my mind off of more distracting things, such as beautiful people in spandex counting how many people have passed me on the run.

The first beep hit at 1:50, or a 7:20 per mile pace. At this stage of the game, I am unconcerned. I check my HR and it is sitting comfortably at 146, well below target. I know that I am running downhill and I have a strength in this skill. I also know that I have to come back up this hill in another 11 miles or so. Still, it's fun to look back and think about all the different emotions and inner chatter that go through your gray matter. In this instance, my brain is yelling "Banter, you are gonna rock this thing." Who am I to argue with my brain?

At the bottom of the hill, there is a short uphill followed abruptly by yet another big downhill. So virtually the first 2 miles of the marathon involve being pulled in a positive gravitational field. What's weird is that I am holding back on purpose. The theme of the day has been conservation and I planned on seeing it through till the end. Even with doing, what feels like, no work, I am in at the 2 mile mark in under 16 minutes. I am already a full 2 minutes ahead of schedule. Worse, I know it and I start to gloat. Can you believe the nerve of this guy? He's got 24 miles left to run and all he can think about is how awesome his most recent quarter mile split was. Utter moron.

I got my picture taken somewhere between miles 2-3. As you can see, the it's a beautiful day outside. The sun is shining. Flowers are blooming. Birds are singing and bees are trying to have sex with them, as is my understanding of the birds and the bees (a Simpsons reference to all of you fans out there). Somewhere on River Road, the Banter is running his first lap with the Olympic Ski Jumps in the back ground, pointing at the camera without a care in the world. I'm kind of a ham when it comes to getting my picture taken.

I had a race nutrition and hydration plan that went as follows: If you look at the picture closely, you'll notice that I have some gels in my hand. I wanted them in my pouch on the back of my jersey but that proved to be too much bounce. So, I carried them. At the aid stations, which are about 1 mile apart, I would take in a minimum of 4 ounces of water.  Every 2 miles, I would walk the length of the aid station and take in 6-8 ounces of water. Every 30 minutes, or roughly 4 miles, I would walk the length of the aid table. During this time, I would eat one gel and take in some water. Each gel is about 100 calories, giving me about 200 calories per hour. I have done the calorie thing in practice without any problems. Not only would my plan help get fluid and calories into the system, but it would give my legs a breather. After the first 4 miles, the plan seemed to be working famously. Even with the walking, my 4th mile split was a modest 9:30. I am now more than 4 minutes ahead of goal pace and feeling fine.

A bit of background for those of you who are new to the site. In late May/ early June, I developed a knee injury that was run specific. Translation, I couldn't run. I pretty much took off the entire month of June to recover from said injury. At the beginning of July, I was struggling to run a full 6 miles straight without walking. Alas, I did manage to get in 2 long runs before IMLP, one of 16 miles, one of 14 miles. That's all I had time for before the big race. I was hesitant of doing longer distances for fear of re-injury and fear of lack of recovery. Well, the injury started to creep in around mile 6 of the run. Gone was the smugness of an accomplished athlete. Gone was the ego. Gone was vision of a PR. All of this was replaced with a guy who was holding on to the edge of a boat for dear life.

The knee had not gone into full blown pain, just more of a discomfort. Every once in a while, I would land and the knee would sting me like a bee defending it's queen. But, for the most part, the concern was relegated to background noise. My pace slowed from 8:30s to 10:30s. I was still following my nutrition and hydration plan.

It was around this time that I had noticed one particular runner. He was a long haired, beatnik type with a super-funky running style. He was more of a shuffle than a run and his pace was slow and steady. I came to find out later in the day that his name was Pierre and he was from Quebec. The main reason I noticed him was that I passed him roughly 10 times during the race. Remember that I was walking the aid station tables. Pierre would jog (?) past during my stroll. I would start running and retake the lead in our 1-on-1 race. In the mean time, countless other people were passing us both.  They didn't matter as it was Pierre versus me. He wagered a beer on the outcome of the race, loser buys. So we kept battling in the classic his tortoise versus my hare rematch. Only this time, the tortoise won. Crap, that's exactly how the fable predicted. I really need to read more children's stories in preparation for race day.

At mile 10, we started up those glorious downhills. Except, they seemed to have grown since the last time I saw them. Maybe the race organizers gave them some water and food while I was running down by the river. They were definitely taller now. I was tackling the hills with all the fervor that I could muster (read- I was walking) and the amount of time it took me to catch Pierre was longer and longer. My pace had now slowed to the 11:00 per mile range. Despite the slope, I was able to finish the first lap in around 2 hours. I needed under a 2 hour for a goal time. But, if I went under a 4:30, I had a chance for a PR (or so I told myself).

The Wife was perched around mile 12, just before the special needs area. This could not have been a better place for her. It is at the top of the hill and at the apex of my discomfort. Yet, seeing her and having her yell thoughts of encouragement emboldens the soul. Okay, Banter, you've seen the woman. Now, it's time to be a man. Only 14 more miles left. It's not so hard. Plus, the next 2 are downhill. Easy peasy. (Don't you love how your brain repeatedly lies to you?)

I was holding steady at somewhere between 11-12 minute miles. Then, I had an epiphany. Parts of your body speak to each other without you knowing it. How did I come to such realization? I found it in my left knee. See, the knee injury happened in my right, so I was expecting issues to pop up there. But, somewhere around mile 15, my left knee started having sympathy pain. I remember stating in my race preview that your legs might fall off below the knees. I was wrong. My legs stayed attached, only my knees wanted to remove themselves. To make matters worse, my hydration and nutrition plan was falling apart.

My stomach, for some reason, wanted to join in the pain fest. I could not imagine a situation, after mile 15, where I could open up one of those gels and actually eat it. I felt like I was going to hurl. It never happened and I tried to imagine what would make it's way out of the canal should the old heave-ho give it a go (correct- counterproductive line of thinking here). There can't have been much down there. The last thing solid I ate was a Cliff bar at mile 8 on the bike ride. That was over 130 miles ago. The peanut butter goo had to have worked its way out of the system by now. Regardless, something was down there and it wanted out. I had 3 more gels left in my hand that were scheduled to take me through the next 11 miles. I tossed them into the trash at the next aid station and trudged on.

One of the mainstays in any form of sport is flexibility and ability to adapt to new situations. I'm smack dab in the middle of my second lap and in desperate need of a new run strategy, new hydration strategy, and a new nutrition strategy. The new run strategy went as follows: walk for 0.05 miles. Run until you hear the beep, about 0.20 miles later. Repeat. The new hydration and nutrition plan were combined as follows: take one cup of Gatorade and one cup of water at each aid station. Oh, just a tip for all of you would-be Ironmen out there: If a nice volunteer asks you if you want any warm chicken broth during the race- answer with "YES!" Oddly, that's the way it happens too. The other volunteers stand in a line shouting out advertisements for their products. The chicken broth person politely asks if you would want some. Never has there been a tastier, more refreshing beverage.

Shortly after the new plan was in place, I made an addendum to the plan. I would always run down a hill, regardless where it stood in reference to my beep. I also had some spur of the moment plan changes as well. For example, I got my picture take yet again with the Ski Jump backdrop. The ego insists that I look somewhat presentable during a photoshoot. What's not shown in the image is me walking immediately after I passed the camera. Apparently, I'll even lie to the camera.

As I limped through the rest of the run, my average was hovering around the 12 minute range. I did my best to stick with the plan. That was, of course, until I hit the monsters again. At mile 20, more pains began to pop up. My feet started to hurt. Not the bottoms, but the tops. I bet my body was starting to swell and the feet were simply sick of being in shoes. My waist hurt where the band touched my skin. My tri-shorts felt like they were choking my legs.  'But, I have only 6 more miles,' I pleaded. Begging for mercy means nothing to an aching body. If someone would have granted me permission to stop the race, to give up, I might have accepted it.

Right around that time, I saw Bill (not his real name as I don't actually know his real name). I met Bill at check-in on the Thursday before the race. Bill was an Ironman several times over, but this was his first big race since the cancer. His treatment had wiped him out and literally sucked all of the testosterone from his body. His training was down, his muscle mass was down, but his spirits were up. This was the last horrah at this distance and he was determined to make a day of it. So, while I walked/ ran with my pansy on, Bill saw me and shouted a greeting. He was on his first lap to my second and looking great. Thanks, Bill. I needed the motivation to continue and you provided it nicely!

Another 2 miles completed and the hills had returned. Mile 22 encompassed the first big hill and was easily the slowest mile of my life since I was in diapers. When I look at the lap data on the Garmin, mile 22 clocked in at a whopping 21 minutes and 31 seconds. Whose the tortoise now? I trudged on.

Once you make it to the top of the hills, the spirits start to lift. For one, there's no more hills. For two, there are streams of people clapping, singing, dancing, yelling, cheering. For three, you can feel the end. All of this screams, 'Get you @** moving." So, I got moving, as much as my body would let me. My paced was back into the 12 minute range. One more turn around and it's off to the home stretch.

When you come back down Mirror Lake, the course splits into 2 lanes. The left side is for those who have one more lap. There were still plenty of runners in that boat and I was happy to know I paid my dues. The lane on the right brings you to the finish line. Again, there are scores of people lined up on the course. And, from a finisher point of view, most of the people had not finished. So, when an ugly, sweaty, gimp of a man takes the right hand road, they are willing to look past the superficial goo oozing from my body and allow themselves to go a little wild. I have had this experience before and I will have it again. There's something special about entering the oval for the final 0.2 miles of a 140.6 mile day. No pain. No suffering. Just you and all the glory beset upon you and your accomplishment.

My run time was an unimpressive 5:05. Out of all the athletes on the day, the run itself was good enough for 1482nd place. When you combine the swim, bike, and run together, I had an overall official time of 12:16.09 which was good enough for 844th. I missed a personal record by 43 minutes. I am not, in the least bit, unhappy.

I'll see you at Ironman Lake Placid in 2012.

P.S. Pierre- I owe you a beer.

Race Review and Results- Flower City Half

This is the second installment of my race weekend series and of the Flower City Double. On Sunday, I 'raced' in the Flower City Half Marathon. The introduction and goals to this race can be found here.

And I say 'raced' because... well because I'm not that good. It's hard to describe what I did as racing. I might be more inclined to use 'participating'. Allow me to expound:

In the Duathlon, there was chit chat. But, all of it occurred pre-race. In transition, we chatted about the crappy training season thus far. One guy commented that this was his first ride outside. (I secretly felt proud that I had ridden out 3 times this season.) I helped one dude, who was now in his second multisport event, set up his bike, helmet, glasses, and shoes for efficiency. We even went through a dry-run so he could pop his bike off the bar with ease and understand the process. I thanked the woman in front of me who happened to have a bright pink bag and would serve as my spotter in transition (the bag, not woman). At the starting line, the guys in the first wave shared light comedy.

Once the race started, chatter ended. Focus. Run run run. Hit T1. Bike bike bike. T2. Run run run. All business. There were a couple of pleasantries but none too much longer than 2-6 words (that's all we had breath for). Granted, I was competing in this race and the other guys (and the girl who chicked me) knew the drill.

Once we crossed the finishers arc, chatter resumed. We recalled the fun stuff from the race. We bantered about who passed whom at what point, did you see the guy who _______, or the story about the dancing dragon that crossed the path during run 2 (at least I wasn't the only one who saw it).

That was the Duathlon. I raced. Day 2 brought the Half Marathon. There was the same pre-race chatter. But, from where I was standing, then running, the chatter never ended. The lady yelled go and the only difference was that were were chatting at a faster pace.

She was neither Frank, Dan, nor Drew.

I met Frank. Frank was in a couple of age brackets past me and a former triathlete. He doesn't like how expensive the sport has become. We were having this conversation with Dan. Dan was running with Dan, who was being paced by Dan. If you are confused, try absorbing all of that while keeping your HR in Z2. Dan runs a tri business in a nearby town. He was in full advertising kit and a good guy. I'm pretty sure I beat Dan but Frank may have passed me in the last half mile of the run. I ran for quite some time with Drew, the Vibram Five Fingers guy. Whereas Drew had done this distance several times, it was the VFF's first half. Their previously longest run was 10 miles. I ran with the VFF and Drew for many miles. He was jealous of my Garmin and actually appreciated it's beeping every 0.25 miles. He wants one now. He definitely passed me in the last mile.

That's a shot of me from the race. Stop looking at the lady, she's not the point of this blog. Plus, I don't want to brag, but, check out my awesome quads and mid-foot strike (both of which have taken years to develop).

The point is that, with all of this socializing happening, there was not much time to race. Sure I had a goal time but it's hard to ignore the guy who is in your personal space, sweating, panting, and, at times grunting, for the past 3 miles. Running has no drafting penalty so we all just bunch up on each other. Plus, I'm kind of slow. Even if I wanted to compete, it would have been a fruitless venture. I had no hope of bringing home any of the cash offered to the good guys and gals. I banished myself to somewhere in the middle between awesome and just finishing. Had a great time though.

My goal on the day was a sub 7:30 pace. I did this, depending on your perspective. See what the Garmin has to say about the run (simply look right). According to my GPS, I rocked the run. However, if you look at the bottom line, you'd notice that once again the run was longer than the expected 13.1 advertised miles. Since my Race Preview, I had a conversation with a couple of people smarter than me (granted, that could be close to anyone on the planet). Anyway, I learned that the USATF sanctioning people are meticulous in their race distances. If you go to the USATF website, they list the process in excruciatingly painful details. Apparently they use laser sighting, infrared technology and military choppers. (Okay, I didn't read it all but it seemed like they were heading in that direction.) If the USATF guy says the course is 13.1, then you'd better believe it's 13.1.

Then I was ready to blame the Garmin. After a bit more research, I was dumbfounded. Apparently, it is about 99.8% accurate. That extra 0.02% does not account for the additional 0.14 miles posted. This is the tough part. The culprit was me. Crap. I hate admitting that I cannot run in a straight line. I was much happier when it was the USATF or the technology. The legs seem to zig zap along the way. I had to do things like snatch water, dodge a moving bullet, or avoid being stepped on by a minimalist runner. All of the back and forth juking adds up.

None of this was really a problem until I got the official race results back. They list the same time but calculate the pace for 13.1 and not 13.24. According to them, my pace was 7:33. This is completely unacceptable. I had a goal. I do not like missing my goals. Therefore, I prefer to ignore the spreadsheet. If my 99.8% accurate Garmin says I ran 13.24 miles at a 7:27, I am prone to believe it. It ran with me the whole time. The spreadsheet wasn't there when I went up the cobblestone cemetery inclines. The spreadsheet wasn't there when I started to bonk at 11.5 miles. (See the data for yourself. Simply look up a bit.) The spreadsheet wasn't there when I skipped breakfast for the second straight day in a row, pre-race (more evidence that I am not that smart and possibly the reason for bonking). The Garmin held my wrist the entire time. In the Garmin/ Spreadsheet battle, the GPS wins the emotional vote and will be the focus of my goal achievement attention.

The Numbers:

Press right here

• I was 171st place overall
• I was the 144th boy to cross the line (yes, I was chicked 27 times and it was awesome!)
• Official (ignored) time 1:38.43
• Official (ignored) pace 7:33
• Unofficial (focal) time 1:38.43
• Unofficial (focal) pace 7:27
• Did anyone else notice how the Garmin's time was really close to the Official time?
• Here's a picture of me demonstrating how to accurately stop your watch to match the official time. I am not looking at the clock.

The Goods about the race:

• The race venue, hands down, was the greatest place to host a race (they used the downtown sports center). Indoors. Lots of bathrooms and space. They even had a band playing rock when we finished.
• The course is about as good as it gets. Mostly flat, except for the cemetery portion. Very nice course for goal setting.
• Post-race spread- one of the major sponsors was a pizza parlor that specializes in non-processed ingredients. Plus, they had the usual suspects of fruit and beverages.
• Volunteers- if I've said it once I will say it again and again. They people are possibly the greatest on Earth. I've only volunteered once at a race and that was a fundraiser for my school when I was 14. There were tons of happy, smiling, cheering guys and gals of all ages doing all sorts of crap work that most people wouldn't want to be paid for doing. Thank you all!

The Bads about the race:

• My pre-race preparation- If I'd have eaten breakfast, maybe I wouldn't have had to rationalize the Official Time versus Garmin Time thing
• Post-race cups of water- this is a bit nitpicky here- the water authority brought a truck and handed water in customized cups. As a guy who was tired, it took way too much of my concentration to not spill that water. I was in desperate need of a lid. 
• My attitude- I so don't like pure running races. Most anything else would be out of spite.

Thanks to Fleet Feet and Yellow Jacket racing for their efforts. This race happens at a perfect time of year. It's close to home. It matches with my later season goals and is a good measurement of my training. The weekend proved that my running is on par. It also proved that I need a bunch more biking on my belt if I want to hit my goals. I should probably start swimming again but you can't really glean that info from the race data.

Race Review and Results- Flower City Duathlon

First- A public service announcement. You may have noticed that Tri-Banter has a new look. Every once in a while, I like to change things up a bit. This is normally externally motivated. In this case, it was a rant by The Wife. She was (literally) yelling at her computer about people who's webpages have black backgrounds with white fonts and how it migraines her. She may have blurted out something about, "... and that's the reason I don't read your blog." I'm skeptical. I am sure there are many reasons she not a follower, I can at least resolve the background problem.

Now, on with your regularly scheduled blog post.

This weekend marked the first time I've done 2 races in the same weekend. This is the first in the series, the Flower City Duathlon, Part One of the Double. I had some lofty goals for this race and I may have set myself up for failure. As with any failure, I need a scapegoat. Therefore, I thought of a list of reasons why I would do bad even before the race began. There are lots of reasons I came up with for a poor performance.

• I've only ridden the bike outside 3 times this year.
• 3 days ago, it rained while riding. 2 days ago, I had to clean off the rain gunk and goo. In doing so, I pulled a muscle in my back.
• I was so distracted by the woman's race winner that I swallowed my tongue as she ran by in her pink shirt and lycra shorts.
• The racetime start temperature was lower than my normal threshold for biking.
• I was distraught that the race organizers had to cancel the paddle-triathlon. All those competitors magically became duathletes and my race grew in size.
• I had not put on my race wheels.
• I am a pansy
• I was over-rested. Due to the back problem, I did not exercise on Thursday or Friday. My legs were not ready for the effort.
• I was under-rested. I did not go to sleep until about 11:00 pm, which is a good 90 min after my normal bedtime. Couple that with the earlier wake-up
• Still, even with the early wake up, I did not get out of bed until 5:30, which was only 2 hours before race time
• Because I woke up so close to race time, I couldn't eat much. I didn't want my stomach bogged down with slushy goo. I maybe had 500 calories.
• I hate duathlons. I miss the swim. Therefore, I had a bad attitude going into the event (especially when you add in the all the other bullets)

Each of the above is completely true. Each of the above is completely valid. Any one, or a combination (depending on the seriousness), of them could be used in the event of crappiness. Here's how the day panned out.

I did get up from a groggy nap at 5:30. I spent most of my evening neurotically packing the car with the necessities of the race. Bike. Race belt. Rubbing the pulled muscle in my back. Blah blah blah. Everything except for the clothes I was going to wear to the race and my bike shoes. The bike shoes were still wet from being stuck in a torrential down pour during Wednesday's training ride. I had hoped to get in a 20 miler but mother nature laughed at me in her own way with horizontal rain and winds on 40 mph gusting to 55. It was a good way to practice bike handling skills and get in a good forearm workout (IE hanging on for your life). The shoes were placed in the basement in front of a fan. They dried out by morning.

Race time temperature was a whopping 38º. If you ignored the thermometer, the day was as beautiful as it could get. Sunny. Slight breeze out of the north. A couple of fluffy clouds scattered in a backdrop of blue. Good running weather.

My run goal of the day was a 7:30 pace for the entirety. That meant hitting a 5k in under 22:00. The second wave of the race went off a full 3 minutes after mine. It took the lead runners all the way until mile 2 to catch me. Despite their awesomeness to my suckiness, I was able to hold a 7:20 pace. My time: 22:17. If you are good with numbers, you'd know that I'm giving you conflicting data. The problem was that the early session was not a 5k. It was more like a 5K + 400 yards. That makes my run 1 time all that much better. So far, so good. I'm on target and ahead of schedule.

I felt like I was painfully slow in T1. Run shoes off. Bike shoes on. Ear covers. Helmet. Sunglasses. Gloves. Run away. I accomplished all of that in about 90 seconds. I should have done it in under 50. I knew I had a few seconds to space on my goal time and therefore was in no real hurry.

On to the bike. Good mount. Good cadence. I was able to hold just under 21 mph for the ride (thank goodness I changed that goal). There was an unexpected stretch of about 7 miles that was straight into the wind the entire time. It was during this stretch when I was passed by 3 of the 4 guys that were going to pass me. They were all wearing aero helmets and had disk wheels. It's possible that they were better bikers than me. But, since I'm in the mood of making excuses, I'm blaming their equipment.

T2 was a bit better than T1. I had to undo everything I did on the way out. I left the shoes on the bike and did a flying dismount. I kept on my gloves and ear things to slowly remove during the run. With speed laces, I was able to slip on my Mirages. When I compare my T2 times with the field, I was rather efficient at 53 seconds.

Run 2 surprised me. Since I had very little calories on the day (I took an additional 100 calories along with some water on the bike), I was expecting to die at any time. Death did not come for me. In fact, quite the opposite. I felt great. There were a couple of hills that ascended up to 8 feet while going over river bridges. One of the hills may have been as great as 10 feet. They were intimidating. (I know that sarcasm is difficult to write, but you had to have caught that one, right?) It was near the last hill that I got chicked. She flew by and I was helpless to her prowess on more than one level. Still, I was able to hold a 7:00 pace. Negative splits on the day. YES! My R2 time was 19:28. Again, if you are an amateur mathematician, you'd get that there is something askew in my numbers. This 5k was a good 400 yards less at 2.81 miles. I guess they needed balance. Aside: The Garmin, in its infinite wisdom, had my average moving pace way fast. Maybe I'll start training for the record.

The Pros for the Race

• Good time of year (woohoo, first multisport event!)
• Well organized (good transition area, good finishers area, good venue, parking a bit further but plentiful)
• Nice courses for both the runs and bike (good path, good roads, bad cow smell at one point but that's not their fault)
• Food spread post race (cookies, fruit, and hot dogs. Seemed a bit early for hot dogs but I was ravenous)
• Awesome volunteers (I can't say enough about these good people. They control traffic, hand out water, steal timing chips from sweaty, dripping monkeys. They are the heart and soul of these races and better people than me.)

The Cons for the Race

• Temperature (When will RDs figure out how to control the weather?)
• Different distances in the runs (I'd prefer the consistency)
• Worst Swag Ever (Nothing. We got nothing except one lousy coupon and a bunch of advertisements for other races. Oh, and a grocery bag.)
• Race Results (The pdf gave name, age, run, transitions, bike, overall time, and for some reason USAT status on the report. No places except overall. No paces. Better results include a breakdown in each category of your overall place, gender place, and age group place. They tell you the official pace in min/ mile for the run and mph for the bike.)
• Tearing down transition before racers finished (Even though my bike was out long before this point, there were many bikes and such in the transition area when they broke down the fences. I understand that you guys want to go home, but how is that secure for the late finishers? Wait a little bit more, please.)

Springer's Banter's Final Thoughts
I will, most likely, do this race again next year. I am guessing that the race organizers will have figured out how to control the temperature a little bit better. Plus, if the record books have anything to say, spring of 2012 is guaranteed to be dryer, warmer, and more biking friendly.

I wanted a sub- 1:45 for the race. I clocked a 1:42.09, making this my Flower City Duathlon PR (yes, this was my first attempt, thanks for pointing that out). I finished in the top 25 overall (read, I was 25th). I was 4th in my age group. All of my excuses for a bad performance were not necessary and I hate it when I do unnecessary work. To live and learn. Due to that effort, they gave me a nice metal pail with a marigold (which The Wife is allergic and refused to accept). They also gave all those who crossed the line a nice "finisher's medal."

(Short rant here but I find that, for a race this distance, finishers medals to all is a bit silly. I don't feel it was that special of an accomplishment. By handing everyone who finished a medal, it sort of dilutes it. We all got t-shirts. Did we really need medals too? Sure, there are those that disagree with me. Personally, I think that making a reward challenging and not giving it to everyone makes it all that much more special when you do earn it. Either that or spend less money on medals and give out more swag, which for some reason, seems better. End Rant).

Stay tuned. The Flower City Half Marathon Race and Results soon to follow.

Spring Forward- Race Review and Results

This past weekend, I had my first race of the year. The word 'race' is used loosely as I knew going into the event that I had absolutely no hope on winning. I was competing against myself, the clock, and last year's performance.

Here's how the day went down:
The race itself was well organized in conjunction by the awesome folks at Fleet Feet and Yellow Jacket racing. They have put on and will continue to put on high quality, low budget types of races. I like the event distance as there are not many 15k's in the area. They have a nice route and gather the nicest volunteers. Since the race was on a Sunday, the volunteers were as much as cheerleaders as there was not much work to do. I can't imagine getting out of bed at 7:00 am to hand out water to sweaty, smelly, gross guys in the cold. Yet, there where tables and lines of friendly faces yelling and screaming. I love the volunteers at such places. I fed off their energy and appreciate all the work that goes into such an event.

The race start was 8:30 am. I set the alarm for 5:15 with the intention of getting out of bed, getting in a morning beverage and eating in time to not want to yack during the run. This was pretty much what happened. I'm a bit methodical when it comes to race preparation, having made my mistakes years ago. Now, I pack the bag the night before and have everything laid out ahead of time. Experience has taught me that I'm not a good thinker in the wee hours. It has also taught me that the piece of mind that accompanies neurotic bag packing is far better than the middle of the night, 'Oh crap, I forgot to ______.' I slept easy.

Race time temperature was a blustery 37º with the wind out of the WNW. There was this weird anomaly in the sky, off in the east, creating a blinding yellow light. I have patches of memory of that thing but I was struggling to recall it clearly. I had planned for cooler and made sure to wear shorts under my jogging pants. I, at the last minute, chose to drop the pants and stick with the shorts. My legs yelled at me. Not because of the temperature, just because they had not seen the outside world in months. They were uncertain how to behave in an exposed environment and snarled like vampires being exposed to the sun's (?) harmful rays.

Review of the Plan
Having set specific goals for the race, I established a race plan with the hopes of beating a 7:30 pace (under 1:10). If you want to read the entire plan, along background and extraneous information, you can do so here. If not, I applaud your laziness and took the liberty of copying the plan. Comments for each layer of the plan can be found below.

• Thoroughly warm up. I hate warming up for distance events. I would rather use the first mile or two as a warm up. But, since this is a non-priority race, I'll probably use it as a long run day. Warm up will probably happen before 7:00 and consist of about 2-3 miles on the treadmill (of which I also hate). It should get the juices flowing and adequately clean out the system.

Status of the Plan: Failed
The Wife did not get out of bed. Since it was the weekend, it was early, and the treadmill reverberates through the bedroom, I granted her the gift of sleeping in. And since it was cold outside at 7 am and I am a pansy I think that warming up in a cold environment defeats the purpose, I hung out on the Lazy-Boy until it was time to go. I arrived on site at roughly 8:05, had to pick up my chip then off to the potty. Then, I went back to the car to hydrate, caffeinate, and sit. I emerged from the car at 8:25 and made it to the starting line with about 2 minutes to go. This meant that I had much more running to do post race to achieve long run status. It also means that my motivation to warm up (displaced as it is) has gone way down for distance events.

• Control the first 4 miles. Given that the race starts out mostly downhill, I need to keep my HR down. I don't want to see much of Z2 until after mile 2. I don't want to see Z3 until after mile 4. Build into the process.

Status of the Plan: Failed
The hill profile meant that there was an early hill which spiked my HR. My legs don't appreciate the morning and neither does the heart. Either that or the Garmin was playing the first of its evil tricks for the day. If it was physiological or Garminological, I was being mocked. The hazing was to ensure to give me n+5 kinds of numbers for comparative perceived effort. I was well into z2 by mile 2. Zone 3 found its way into my life by mile 3 with spikes into z4 on the uphills. I may have seen z5 on multiple occasions. Not at all what I planned.

• Keep the ego in check. Yes, I want to beat that 5'4" girl running in pigtails and pink clothes. Yes, if that 11 year old boy beats me it will be a blow to my manhood. This is not about them. Let it go. Try and pass them at mile 9, not mile 2. Passing them at mile 9 still means I win. Remember that.

Status of the Plan: Fragments of Success
I was beaten by not 1, but at least 2 girls in pink. Sadly, they were not in pigtails but were sporting nice ponies. Since I was a gentleman this morning with the Wife and her sleeping in, I decided that I would continue this behavior and "allow" these women to beat me. I am sure I could have beaten them. I 'chose' not to. They were definitely not better runners than me. I swear. And, I did not see any teenagers on the course, so I assume that I beat them. I refuse to analyze the results searching for kids' times. (Sorry, I let the ego take over the keyboard for a while. I held it in check during the race and it demanded to have some computer time.) I will admit that a pair of older runners (not sure how old, but they had ample amounts of gray in their hair), one male and one female passed me at the 9.2 mile mark. The ego flared up. I may have sworn at them. I was required to out-sprint them to the line which I did so dutifully.

• Accept that I haven't done much speed work lately and 7:30 is lofty. The biggest success will come from building on last year's information and using that to my advantage. I will not accept walking. I will accept beating last year's time.

Status of the Plan: Acheived
In this section of the message, I had envisioned a detailed play-by-play/ mile-by-mile recap of HR, pace, hills, etc. Fun to write and even better to read. I have an auto-beep every .25 mile and an auto-lap every 1 mile. The auto-beep reminds me to look at the watch and check for HR and pace. At 7:30 per mile, I need to subtract about 8 seconds off every beep to achieve my pace goal. This happened way more often than not. I was a bit concerned about the first mile. I wanted to start off slowly. Last year, mile one was 7:12, which I deemed overboard. I was thinking that 7:40 would be appropriate and build into my race. What happened at mile one this time? 7:08. I thought I was going to implode. Still, I only remember 2 split times being higher than 7:30 (one was 7:32, the other was much slower). When the race ended, I checked my time. Under 1:10 for the race (1:09.18 on the watch). Goal time achieved! I grabbed some water and some sports drink. I reset my watch and went for an easy 5-miles to finish off my long day of running. Then I got home, excited about the effort. I connected the ANT+ device and downloaded my data. Race data- Gone. Easy 5 mile run data- available. I tried to re-download, re-upload, and was very near tossing the device out the window. Quite grumpy. No race data. No HR. No laps. No new hill profile. Nothing. My Garmin failed me.

• Caffeinate. Modestly. I do like the jittery feel and how it hides most non-bowel related pains during the peak. Since I plan on using caffeine later in the season, I should start experimenting now on how it will serve me. It's better to get the system on line now than on the big day.

Status of Plan: Inconclusive
I have 2 versions of caffeine at my disposal. Version one is hidden inside of my morning ambrosia (homemade mocha latte). The espresso and chocolate are both caffeine donors. Since I sipped this elixir around 6:00, the jittery punch had long since receded by race time. I needed a booster shot. I have a caffeine supplement. They are little, horrible-tasting yellow pills each providing about 125 mg of good-vibrations. I take them with me when I travel to races and when I camp for training. Because I am lazy and do not wish to carry a separate container for my multivitamins, I have mixed in some MV with my yellow pills of power. Two pills+one container= efficient. Looking back, I have a sneaking suspicion that I was still sleeping around 8:10 when I popped my stimulants and may have taken 2 light-pink vitamins instead. With the sun's glare, everything looked the same to me. I have no recollection of any of the usual side-effects of being heavily caffeinated. This may provide evidence that I don't need them. But, again, I have no idea if it had actually happened.

In Conclusion
I achieved all of my goals for the day. Sub 7:30 pace- achieved. Sub 1:10 race time- achieved. No near-death experiences- achieved. Despite the condition of the race plan, the morning was an overall success. I did not hit the wall at any time and I felt adequately prepared. I might just be a sucky planner. It was a good day and I will probably include this event on my next year's schedule.

This race just goes to prove that I am not much of a runner in terms of adult, amateur, recreational athletics. The guy who won the race (I did check his age just to ensure he was not the prophesised teenager) beat me by more than 20 minutes. WOW. I can even imagine going 20 minutes faster even if the entire race was downhill. I did not place in my age group. I 'allowed' several woman to outrun me. Out of 550+ people, I just barely broke the top 100. Still not bad. Also, not great. I, comparatively speaking, am a much better triathlete than raw runner. I have great respect for the guys and gals out there who can excel at these races. Come on summer, or spring for that matter. I want the water to warm up and start the swim-bike equalizer which transforms my race results from average to awesome.

Spring Forward- Race Preview

The Race
On Sunday, the first official race of the Banter 2011 Race Schedule kicks off. The Spring Forward race is held in beautiful Mendon Ponds Park, one of the major highlights of life in the Rochester area. The race is a 15k road race that completely misses the park itself, preferring to take advantage of the nicely paved roadways and the decreased traffic flow accompanying a Sunday morning.

With the (unreliable)  forecast featuring overnight lows near the freezing line and rain a possibility, I am pleased that I have paid money for this event. Otherwise, I'd be prone to sleeping in and sulking about the crappiness of my existence in pseudo-tundraland. The forking over of cash is enabling and empowering, meaning. I will be at the starting line, rain or shine (or snow), warm or cold, when the starter blows his whistle.

The course is advertised as hilly and I'm not one to argue with the claim. I did this race last year. Here is the hill profile posted on their website...

Now, here's the one taken from my Garmin...

Not bad. Notice how the course is rolling throughout the entire run and how the biggest climbs tend to happen near the end. This is borderline cruel.

The History
A year ago, I was completely unprepared for this race. Some of the ladies I coached were gunning towards their first 1/2 Marathon. One of them convinced me that this run was a good idea. "Sure," I said. "No problem. I'll get up and run with you." The ego was flaring up again.

I had every intention of starting out the race easy. I was thinking that 8:00 per mile pace was doable. What I didn't count on was the race-day mentality. See, in addendum to the male-ego gene is a small portion on the end which controls competition. The competition addendum states that people are supposed to be behind you, not in front. Make sure it happens.

Now, couple the competition addendum with the hill profile and you get a fast start. Having had this race basically thrust upon me, I had not trained for a fast start. It didn't matter. The ego gene had taken over and logic was left in the car with my extra sweatshirt. Both would be important later in the day, just useless now. Right around the one mile mark, I beeped in at a comfortable 7:12 minute mile with the heart rate steady in lower zone 2. It wouldn't last.

I'll save you the details of the rest of the race and allow you to glean them for yourself.

Banter Pace Profile

Banter HR Profile

I will give you some highlights. As you can see, the pace profile has an overall negative slope and gradually drops below the 8:00/ mile line as the race goes on. The HR profile has a positive slope, start to finish, and hovers around the 180 bpm mark, which is borderline zone 4 for me. Since this race is early season, I've done near to no training in z4 and the heart was not happy. At the 1 hour mark, there is a distinct drop in both profiles. This had absolutely nothing to do with me walking. Honest. It was my second wind, however brief, kicking in.

In the end, I finished with an average pace of 8:04 and an overall time of 1:15. This year, I'm hoping to do better.

Plan of Attack
As stated before, I'd like to have a 7:30 minute per mile average pace. In order to achieve this, I must have a game plan for race day. My plan goes something like this...

1. Thoroughly warm up. I hate warming up for distance events. I would rather use the first mile or two as a warm up. But, since this is a non-priority race, I'll probably use it as a long run day. Warm up will probably happen before 7:00 and consist of about 2-3 miles on the treadmill (of which I also hate). It should get the juices flowing and adequately clean out the system.
2. Control the first 4 miles. Given that the race starts out mostly downhill, I need to keep my HR down. I don't want to see much of Z2 until after mile 2. I don't want to see Z3 until after mile 4. Build into the process.
3. Keep the ego in check. Yes, I want to beat that 5'4" girl running in pigtails and pink clothes. Yes, if that 11 year old boy beats me it will be a blow to my manhood. This is not about them. Let it go. Try and pass them at mile 9, not mile 2. Passing them at mile 9 still means I win. Remember that.
4. Accept that I haven't done much speed work lately and 7:30 is lofty. The biggest success will come from building on last year's information and using that to my advantage. I will not accept walking. I will accept beating last year's time.
5. Caffeinate. Modestly. I do like the jittery feel and how it hides most non-bowel related pains during the peak. Since I plan on using caffeine later in the season, I should start experimenting now on how it will serve me. It's better to get the system on line now than on the big day.

So there you have it. The first event is soon underway. Spring has arrived in terms of racing if not in terms of temperature. Time to get the body used to performing in groups, in the morning, and (hopefully) in comfort. I'll check back in after the race and let you know how it goes.

2011 Race Schedule

With the threat of a pending blizzard and in the heat of a recovery week, my motivation to do anything resembling physical activity is pretty low. Therefore I decided to let my credit cards do the work tonight and paid out for a bunch of races. As I live in Western New York, most of my races are local. I plan on adding a race or 2 later in the season but I feel rather set between now and IMLP.

Here it goes:

• April 3- Spring Forward 15 K run
• April 30- Flower City Duathlon RBR (5k/ 20 mile/ 5K)
• May 1- Flower City Half Marathon
• June 5- Keuka Lake Intermediate Triathlon
• July 2- Tri in the Buff Intermediate Triathlon
• July 16- mini-Musselman Sprint Triathlon
• July 24- Ironman Lake Placid

The schedule has a couple of points of interest for me. First, the Flower City races are back to back, giving me a discount and option for a 'special' prize. I'm not much of a duathlon kind of guy as they purposefully get rid of the swim and replace it with a run. In the runner's world, I'm average at best. But, the challenge of the weekend appeals to me so I will cope with the lack of swimming for the weekend festivities. Second, I would like to add another tri in June. I generally do not like to drive more than 2 hours for a race (except for IMLP). I've not been having much luck finding a <2 hour race. Ironically, instead of racing, I will more than likely drive the 5 hours from home to Lake Placid to camp and train on the course. I won't drive to race but will to train. Gosh I'm weird. Third, except for the duathlon, I have done all these races in the past and enjoyed them. There's comfort in familiarity and I am sitting comfortable right now. (Although, that just might be the lazy boy talking.)

After IMLP, there are a few more local races that I've yet to register but am considering. There's a formula 1 style triathlon in mid August. I may do that race or visit my parents in Indiana. It's too early to tell at this point. There's a nice sprint triathlon in one of the Fingerlakes in September. Registration for this event is not yet open and there is a very high probability I will do this event. The big post-season race may be Ironman Syracuse 70.3. It's within the 2 hour window and would give me the chance to do all 4 major triathlon distances in the same season (sprint, intermediate, half, and full). I'm not sure how many other people can boast having done all four in the same season, so I'll be Banter-style superhero in that sense. Even without the bragging rights, the Syracuse event still looks fun. It also marks the last triathlon in the area for the year. The last hoorah. Yeah, I'll probably do it. Probably.