2013 KLT Race Review and Results

Pre-Race
It was a dark and stormy night. Literally. It was one of those nights when you weren't sure that they were going to put on a race tomorrow. Race Directors have something against lightning and Mother Nature was angry that night. When I awoke in the wee hours of the morning, she was still crying and howling. I got on the Internets and checked the race website. No new news. I checked the radar and focused my sights on a town many a mile south of my residence called Penn Yann (which I'm pretty sure is Amish for 'middle of nowhere'). The rain was scheduled to stop in the very near future but had a chance to return later in the morning.

I ate my breakfast, packed the rest of the gear, and got out of the house earlier than predicted. I have a tendency of arriving at the race site near the end of the acceptable period. This morning, I was a little excited about the first triathlon of the season and I wanted to turn over a new leaf. According to my best estimates, I was 15 minutes ahead of my norm (a new Banter record). Ten minutes down the road, I started swearing and promptly turned around. Whereas I did forget to put the Wife in the car (she opted for additional sleep- queue jealousy), I also forgot to put my wallet in the car. You can show up for a running race completely empty handed. For a triathlon, however, you must show your government issued ID and your USAT membership card to get in to the race. Plus, they also ask you for a blood sample, a cheek swab for your DNA, an iris scan, a unique identifying birthmark, and 7 security questions. A failure to provide proper ID= no race for you.

After leaving my driveway, round 2, I was now about 5 minutes behind schedule. AKA- business as usual. I arrived on race site and picked up my packet. To my surprise, I was not the last person to arrive. I was 4th to last. (Only because last place was a relay team which I'm counting as 3 separate competitors.) Welcome to the Keuka Lake Triathlon.

From this moment on, I had about 15 minutes until transition closed. I was about 0.25 miles away from the transition area. No problem. I hopped on my bike, donned my helmet, and covered the distance in a short 2 minutes. The KLT volunteers won't let you in to transition without being body marked. For those of you who don't know what this means- it's one of the nuances of triathlon. Not only do you have a race number on your body. You also have one on your bike. Plus, they feel the need to decorate your skin. I got my race number drawn on both backhands and both quads. Then, on one calf they posted my race age (which is different from your real age for every single triathlete except for a person born on December 31). On the other calf, they put a large "I" signifying that I was racing the Olympic distance event. Makes sense, right?

I set up my stuff in transition, which I do rather efficiently. Years of arriving late helps you learn how to streamline the process. Then, I got into an argument that slowed me down tremendously. The Garmin refused to cooperate. Normally when I turn her on, she beeps, pauses, then starts up. This process takes about 5-10 seconds (see pic at left). Today, she stayed at the start-up screen for a couple of minutes. I turned her off (pic at left) and tried again. No luck after a couple of minutes of hoping (again, pic).

After she won the argument by refusing to start up, I resigned myself to leaving the transition area knowing that I would be racing without the Garmin. It was also quite apparent to me that I was, by far, the last person out of transition. I've been in this situation before.

The Swim
Since I was the last person out of transition, it makes logical sense that I was also the last person to arrive to the swim start for my wave. I was in the 2nd wave and in no hurry to make it down to the water. Everyone else was in the swim coral but no one was waiting for me. I made it before the 1st wave went off. I.E. Plenty of time.

Off went number 1 and in went #2. We had about 5 minutes before our horn was sounded. Three days ago, the water temperature was 56º. Since then, the atmospheric thermostat had been turned up. The water had risen to 65º. It was still pretty chilly and I was happy for my wetsuit. I did my normal swim warm up of diving down under the surface, stroking for about 10 yards, turning and returning back. Or, roughly 30-45 seconds worth of work. My head was wet. My body was semi-acclimated to the temps. I was ready.

The horn sounded and I went off with the fast pack. The swim is just under a mile long so I knew I had to pace myself early. I also know that there's a bike and a run coming up so I try to manage my energy. I'm confident I could have stroked a little harder but I was concerned about going blind what affect it would have on the rest of my race. I found some feet that were heading in my general direction and at about the pace I wanted to hold. I stayed on them the entire route.

Thanks to the dude that pulled me around the course. He kept a good pace. He swam straight. He knew how to meander through the back of the early pack. Good work! Here's how the swim looked like after the last buoy, heading for home.

Upon exiting the water, it was obvious that I was working hard in the water. My breathing was high and labored. Immediately, we were thrust into peril. Not only did we have to navigate life on land again, but there was a large set of stairs. The KLT has this rule about not allowing wetsuit removal near the water's edge. I was feeling a bit constricted in my wetsuit once on land and decided to unzip. I was warned by no fewer than 800 people yelling at me to keep my wetsuit on. So, with the back of my dress unzipped, I made my way up the stairs and into the transition area.

My time out of the water, including the stairs was 24:44. This was good enough for 17th place overall. Further, I won my age group (yes, by only 1 second, but I'll take it).

Even better for me was my improvement in transition 1. Last year, I had a dismal time in T1. T1- 2012 version at this race- was 2 min 55 sec which was the 226th fastest time of that day. T1- 2013 version- was 1 min 39 sec, which was the 27th fastest time of the day. Even better... The Garmin decided that she wanted to race. There she was waiting for me to press her button (where's that pic?). However, she was sitting in a running mood and I had to convince her that we were biking first. This cost me a couple of seconds that I did not mind, since I was no longer racing alone.

The Bike
This was my first race in an aero helmet. I recently purchased a Giro Attack. These things are expensive and supposed to make you a little faster. Completely worth it! One of the benefits of the helmet is that it comes with a shield. A shield can be used to thwart off men on horses with spears, dudes in armor with swords, or bugs on a bike ride. It basically replaces sunglasses. I waxed my lens with Rain-X before the race, just in case the rain forecast held true. Collateral benefit- sweat wicks off the lens faster.

The ride starts off with a short, slight downhill. Then, we turn on to the main road and are greeted with 2 main challenges. First, there is a climb. Second, there is a steady head wind. The winds were in our face at ~10 mph for roughly miles 1-9. At mile 9, we turned around. But, that when we started the longer, steady climb.

Up and up we went. Then we turned right, meaning that we now had a cross wind. We went up some more nearing about 1000 feet of climbing for the day. Then we turned right again. The road started to flatted out. But, then we were back in the wind. My average pace was going from respectable to disappointing. Then, something happened just before the 16 mile mark. We turned around.

At this point, we had the dual benefit of going downhill with a tail wind. It started to rain slightly around this point. I didn't care. I was in a good position and heading in the right direction. Water was beading off my lens. Between miles 17 and miles 24, my slowest split was 26 mph.

When I dismounted my bike, I had completed the ride with the 27th fastest time on the day. My average pace was 21 mph with a time of 1:11.40. As a comparison, last year, under similar conditions (less wind but more rain), I held 20.1 mph on the same course and was 3 minutes slower. That aero helmet is looking better now.

I hopped off my bike and headed for T2. I found my spot, racked my bike, put socks and shoes on my feet, and headed out to the run. My T2 time was a whopping 57 sec, which was the 28th fastest time on the day (I'm seeing a trend here).

The Run
I was hoping to hold 7 minutes per mile. I thought this within my skill set. I set out at what I considered a hard, but comfortable pace. My first mile clocked in at 6:58. How's that for pacing?!

At around the 1.5 mile mark, the crowd thinned out. No, not because I'm awesome and my blazingly hot pace put the others in the dust. It's because that was where the duathletes and sprinters turned around and headed for home. I was exceptionally jealous. My orange cone was still way off in the distance. I paced on and hit my second mile on a 7:03. I had slipped a little.

Didn't happen

It was right around this time that the rains came. The RD had given out ample warnings before the race that, should there be lightning, the day was over. Part of me wanted the sky to charge up and I could stop running guilt free. Part of me wanted it to keep raining. I did notice that running in the race was rather pleasant. I was able to pick up the pace and stay cool.

Something worse happened. The rain stopped and the sun came out. Now I'm saturated in a combination of my own filth and the grime that Mother Nature provided, while running down the road next to a lake, as the heat is starting to rise. The humidity was relatively close to the max meaning that sweat wasn't able to do it's job. I was starting to boil in my own excrement and I still had a couple of miles left to go.

I'd be lying if I told you that I didn't want to stop and walk. My right brain was rationalizing the decision to slow my pace drastically at an aid station, take in some water, and cool off. My left brain was saying that there was only 2 miles left, or about 15 minutes, and that I can suffer through almost anything for that duration (save a Nicholas Cage movie). Apparently the neuroscientists people might have been correct. I'm right handed and therefore my dominant left brain won the war. I didn't stop.

That's not to say that I kept my pace. I was suffering pretty good and I slowed from sub-7 to low-7 and then to mid-7. I would scoop up a cup of water from the handy volunteers. A little for the mouth and the rest for my head. The cool sensation of the liquid flowing down my drenched clothes had never been so welcoming.

When I made it to the finisher's arc, I crossed the line with as much satisfaction as I could muster. It was clear that I left nothing on the course. My run time of 44.55 was welcomed as I traditionally have a sub-45 min goal which I rarely accomplish. My run was the 51st fastest in the field (more proof that I really need to do some long term run improvement).

The Results
I crossed the line in 22nd place overall and 3rd in my age group. My clock time was 2:23.35. This was a good 7 minutes faster than last year's race. I had bested my previous swim time, T1 time, bike time, and run time and by good margins too. The only aspect of the race that was slower than a year ago was T2. In 2012, T2= 56 sec. In 2013, T2= 57 sec. I'm slipping.

I scanned the results sheet only to see that the #1 and #2 guys in my AG were in 5th and 6th overall and significantly better cyclists and runners than me. I had no hope of catching them anytime soon. At least I beat them out of the water.

I stuck around race campus for a while. This gave me a chance to meet Al. It also gave me a chance to take advantage of the best post-race food on the planet. (Seriously. I'd recommend this race to anyone and everyone, if for nothing else than to get invited to the smorgasbord of happiness that they serve in the cafeteria.)

I was debating about leaving after brunch but before the awards. I was a little nervous about getting an award. Last time I did a race by the Score-This people (who, by the way, have never failed to put on a high quality show!), they handed out bricks as prizes. Whereas I could use a few more bricks to build a patio... Anyway, I was talked in to staying by a couple of other racers. It's a good thing that I did. Here's what they had to offer.

It feels like the KLT knows me.

Ok, My Weather's Not That Bad

I do an awful lot of complaining about the weather, both in blog form and in conversation form. Most of my gripes are centered around the cold, rain, and wind. These, of which obviously, I'm not that fond.

Take our most recent Memorial Day weekend. The average high for our area is typically in the low 70s. For 2013, we had upper 50s to low 60s, wind and rain. Those conditions changed what would normally be an amazing training weekend into a complete pansy fest. At least I had the chance to overeat.

This up-and-coming weekend marks the first triathlon of the 2013 season. The Keuka Lake Triathlon is a pretty good race. I've done this race in the past, made some mistakes, and had some good times. But, with the atmosphere being below average for most of the spring, the water temps are sitting nicely near 56º. Brrr.

So, while I sit here and whine about my weather woes and how Mother Nature must hate my guts, I check out some other areas. For example, this was Lake Placid, NY on this past Sunday.

They got right around 30" of snow. I wonder how cold their water is. Here's what San Antonio, Tx looked like.

So, LP beat us in cold. Tx beat us in rain. At least we had some wind, right? I'd be remiss if I didn't pay homage to my OKC peeps. The BIL, Mrs. BIL, the niece and the nephew live right in the middle of the recent tornadoes. Whereas they are all safe and their house is still standing, the area is a complete and utter mess.

Here's the bad boy that beat them up...

And here's what being beat up looks like...

So, this post is really a reminder to me. The next time I start bellyaching about some below average temp, a little bit of water falling out of the sky, or some gusty winds, I'll have to keep my life in perspective. Even with our sudden drastic increase in temps causing near 90s this week, it's not so bad after all. I'll do my best to keep the whining at a minimum. (Not advertising full abstinence though. That would be asking too much.)

Race Review and Results- Flower City Half 2013

I awoke in the wee hours of Sunday morning to go, well, wee. I had actually planned on getting up a little earlier than normal so that I could try and get in some calories. Having been an athlete in one form or another for most of my life, I am not accustomed to the nervous stomach issue. I've read about this phenomenon but hadn't started experiencing it for myself until a year or 2 ago. Now that I think more, the issue may have shown right around the time I started blogging. Maybe I'll apply for one of those stupid science grants that pay people to do ludicrous research studies to test that hypothesis.

As I sat there in the comfort of my lazy boy, drinking my latte, and looking at my breakfast trying to will it down my throat, I made a few observations.

1. My hip flexors are exceptionally sore from yesterday's duathlon.
2. I still don't want to eat
3. I'm very tired
4. I need to poop soon
5. I really should just go back to bed

Needless to say, I was not the epitome of motivation on race morning. I did eat something as I didn't want a repeat of last year's bonk. I did not go back to bed. I did poop. I got dressed for a 13.1 mile jaunt in downtown Rochester.

The Flower City Half Marathon was one of the first major events scheduled after the Boston tragedy. There were several messages sent out from the good people at Fleet Feet Sports and Yellow Jacket Racing, our hosts for the race. They promised that there would be increased security and protection. I had full faith that these amazing race organizers would pull off the event without a hitch. If there was indeed increased security measures, I didn't notice. Which probably is evidence that they do their job well.

In light of the Boston tragedy, they had some pre-race ceremonies. They held a moment of silence, in which I participated from the friendly confines of a bathroom stall. They had some motivational music. They sang "Sweet Caroline" just before the gun. (Aside: I apologize for my ignorance here. I like the song. I like Neil Diamond (feel free to mock). I don't get the connection between the music and the Boston thing. Any help would be duly appreciated. End Aside.) The gun goes off and thousands of people start running.

As always, I was in search of a PR. My current record for this distance is 1:38 something something. Since I wasn't sure how much "something something" actually meant in seconds, I decided to run for a 1:37.59. In doing many mental math calculations, I figured out that I would need to hold a 7:25. But, I also know that these longer, crowded races tend to extend the running distance due to weaving, juking, and all sorts of obstacles. In the past, this has equaled as much as an extra 0.2 mile, or almost 2 additional minutes of running. I readjusted my pace to 7:20. My first mile? 7:21! I'm gonna rock this race and my PR.

The beginning part of the race is deceptively easy. For one, everybody's got fresh legs (except for me, mine are tired from yesterday's awesome race). For 2, the path is mostly flat to downhill. For 3, I'm an idiot and not a runner.

The Story of Crossfit Chelsea
Shortly after mile 1, I picked up a running partner. I'm calling her Crossfit Chelsea because she's one of those hot crossfit chicks and her name is Chelsea. See how the naming system works around here.

At the beginning of the race CC had her eyes set on running with a strappingly handsome man that she had just met. But, since he was faster than predicted, she resigned herself to running with me. I assume this was a good thing since I'm pretty sure that she was hit on mid race by no less that 3 dudes (and possibly 1 other chick). I witnessed one of the said hittings first hand as some balding dude in his 40's ran up behind her and said something to the effect of, "Wow, you're good. I've been trying to catch you for some time now." Um, we hadn't yet made it to mile 2. He kept going, "So, what's your goal for the race?" he says to her. This conversation is happening just behind me to my left. I didn't hear the answer.

Shortly thereafter, she's running with me. I can't imagine why but she asks me my goal for the race. "13.1 miles," I say. She laughs and says that's probably the best goal. I have a new friend whom I happen to look at for the first time. Immediately the ego kicks in. My pace for mile 2? 7:01.

I knew that my legs wouldn't make the distance staying at that pace. Luckily, my watch beeped at the 2.25 mile marker pulling me out of my stupor. She glanced down at the noise on my wrist and I find myself again apologizing to a girl for it's incessant clatter. "How annoying for you," she says. "Oh, I set it to beep every quarter mile on purpose," I respond. This may have been her first clue that something was wrong with me. Still, she doesn't leave my side.

As we run on, I start to notice something else about this race. There's a clear, non-alcoholic liquid oozing freely from my body. Whereas most of America has been stuck in a freezer for the 2013 calendar year, someone unplugged the cooling coils. The forecasted high was to be near 70º and it was already past 55. Hot. By mile 5, I'm nearly drenched and wasn't feeling too great about that fact. Crossfit Chelsea looked comfortable in her pink sleeves with just a bead of moisture starting to form on her brow.

Still, we're holding Banter PR pace. Miles 3-5 were +/- 3 seconds of my 7:20. I did confide in CC about my pace plan, hence the reason for all of the beeping. She had grown accustomed to it and finally curious. At the 6 mile beep, she asked me how we were doing. It took me a second to calculate. First, we had been running the tangents extraordinarily well. The beep and the mile marker on the road were pretty close to each other. If that were to continue, we'd be in ahead of schedule. Second, we had been erroring on being a little faster than slower. By my estimates, we were about 2 minutes ahead of the 1:37.59 schedule. I told her so. But, I also warned her about the hills.

It may not look like much from the profile, but miles 7 and 8 are rough. We enter Highland Park, which the glaciers forgot to smoothen out. While there, we make a right hand turn into Mt. Hope Cemetery. The Cemetery is old school, having been established long before paving was invented. Instead of shiny new asphalt, they have uneven cobblestone bricks.

As we started up, my hip flexors reminded me of 2 things: 1. They were still pretty sore. 2. They were in charge. My pace slowed dramatically. CC's did not. As I snailed my way up the first and second climbs, she motored on. Her bright pink shirt was getting smaller and smaller as I was getting slower and slower.

New Race Strategy
Mile 7 clocked in at an 8:02. This wasn't so bad as I had some time in the bank. It was apparent to me that I was going to need some beverage. My sweat rate was increasing while my pace was decreasing. A common strategy in Ironman running is to walk the aid stations. I decided to try it out in a shorter, non-multisport event. Soon thereafter, I found some water being held out by some nice volunteers. I took a couple of cups and started walking.

I did my best to take in fluids and recover at the same time. I had resorted to a modified run-walk system where I would run for as far as my legs would let me and walk a short while. Most of the walking tended to be while pointed uphill.

The new strategy paid off! Not in time. My 8th mile had slowed to a 9:24. But, during one of those walk sessions, I happened to look down and found $20. So, all of the time I had put into the first half of the race had leaked itself out in the cemetery. But I was now able to afford a post-race meal.

With the dismissal of my PR, I resigned myself to enjoying the rest of the run. I took away the stress and focus of proper pacing and looked around. The course really is nice. Once you got out of the death trap, err, cemetery, you ran a short distance on the road and onto the University of Rochester campus. We merged onto the same path which made up part of yesterday's duathlon. This route meandered us next to the Genessee river, which was good in a few different ways. There was no traffic on the path, other than my fellow runners. There was ample nature. And, since we were heading in the same direction as the water, and since water is very picky about direction, we were once again running downhill.

The last couple of miles were pleasant but uneventful. The number of runners had thinned out. I was able to repass a few that took me in the hills. Still, several others went by me without a second glance. I crossed the finish line in a 1:46.49 or about 8 minutes shy of my PR.

I did happen to stalk check Crossfit Chelsea's finish time. She did not go under the 1:37.59 goal time either. Still, she was close and put about 7 minutes of time between us. I looked for her after the race but failed to find her.

The Walk of Shame
Say what you want about runners, but wow they know how to put on a party. The race started and ended at the Blue Cross Arena, which is as great of a race venue as you could get. Once inside the facility, you are greeted with live music and a nearly endless supply of food. Thanks to the volunteers who kept that going!

I grabbed some pizza and a bagel from the buffet. My stomach still wasn't interested in eating but I forced some calories down it anyway.

I took off my running shirt and ringed it out over a trash can. I donned a new, clean shirt that I had stashed behind a pole before the race. It was a calculated risk that paid off. If someone would have cleaned up the inside of the building, I would have been stuck in my stinky. Since everyone else is as lazy as me, I was able to walk around in a dry top.

As I left the feeding area, I headed out towards the parking garage that held my car, a 10 minute walk on rested legs. On the way, I met Boston Bill. Bill may or may not be his real name. He did do the Boston Marathon 2 weeks prior. I praised him for even attempting a 1/2 mary two weeks after a full.

Boston Bill was the first person I met that could give a first hand account of what had happened. There were so many things I wanted to ask but the awkwardness of the situation dictated that I be nice.

"So, how'd it go?" I ask

"Which?" he replied. "Today or Boston?"

"Well, today." I lied. "But I am curious about Boston, too." I covered.

Boston Bill goes on to tell me that he had a sub-par performance. He was hoping for a 1:48 and didn't get it. This immediately puts things in perspective for me since I had, for all practical purposes, a terrible race. My time was still faster than his.

He continues to tell me that he's not sure about Boston. He was on pace to achieve his goal but was stopped short of the finish line as the tragedy unfolded. Then, Boston Bill says something that takes my mind away.

"I'm waiting to find out how Boston is going to handle finishing times." I admit to having this question myself but have been too shy to consider out loud. Runners are a nutty bunch. When all is said and done, they still want the official data.

BB and I chat for a little while longer until it's clear that neither one of us are walking in the direction of our cars. We say our farewells and diverge to our respective parking garages. The Flower City Challenge weekend had finally come to a close.

Flower City Duathlon 2013 RRR

Welcome to the first official multisport Race Report and Results (RRR) for the 2013 season. Just like several years in a row, I started my non-running racing with a duathlon.

Once upon a time, they (whoever they are) invented this ridiculous sport called running and made it infuriatingly painful. Later on, they tried to solve this problem by inventing a bicycle. Finally, someone came to their senses and took to the water. Hence the sport swimming. When combined, swimming, biking and running become the holy trinity of all sporting events know and the "triathlon".

The problem is that there's a segment of the population (read: majority) who don't have crazy good swimming skills. They still want multisport but can't swim a lick. Somehow, they convinced a race director to forgo the aforementioned swim and replace it with another run. (Aside: They also convinced him to host a 13.1 mile running race on the following day. They are gluttons for punishment. I, like an idiot, signed up for both. End aside.) Basically, they want a triathlon without the tri. For those not in the know, or for those who happened to forget, duathlons are the bastardized little brother of triathlon.

One of those RD's just happens to be in charge of Fleet Feet, Rochester edition. They put on a pretty good show.  Much to their credit, late April is not normally a good time for open water swimming. Since I'm not a fan of open water swimming in a pool, I'm pretty pleased they decided to keep the race outdoors. As a consequence of that sage decision, race time starting temperature was roughly 42º. Brr.

Run 1
I really want to make a fair comparison. I really want to tell you that I ran faster or slower. Alas, I cannot. Sadly, they changed up the course this year. We used to play on the paths and trails near the Genessee. Apparently, the people doing the paddle tri wanted to run with the big dogs. We hug the riverside. 

They started me in the last wave. They heard a rumor that I was going to crush the field. I'm not sure what idiot thought that was funny as they were clearly wrong. I'm sure at some level, there is a valid reason for the chosen starting order. It's rarely popular amongst the masses. I set out at what I thought was a comfortably hard pace. Somewhere near the 1.5 mile marker, I overheard a lady (who started in an earlier wave) how she "wished the boys started earlier so she wouldn't have to be passed by so many people. This is demoralizing."

Of course, she looked directly at me. I don't blame her. Anytime I out run someone in a race, regardless of gender, religion, disability, or pre-existing mental condition, it has to be a slam on their athletic ability. Poor lady.

A year ago, I did this run in 21 minute and 29 seconds. This year, I came into transition after 20.42. Again, I have no idea if this is better or worse than last year but I was pretty happy with the performance as I had clearly broken the 7 min barrier. That pace was good enough for 42nd place.

Transition 1
It was still rather chilly. Temperatures were rumored to climb later into the mid-60ºs. You wouldn't have known it by the crispness of the air. If this weren't a race, I'd have put the bike on the trainer and biked indoors. I'm selectively pansy like that.

This year, I wanted to be a little more competitive. I decided not to put on a jacket. I kept my shoes clipped in to my pedals. I did need to put on ear coverings, helmet, glasses, and gloves. My fingers had a bit of an issue clasping the helmet closed, which is required by USAT rules. Of course, I removed my bike from the rack and got a pedal stuck on one of the cross bars of the racks. I suppose this is the reason you do these early season races, to work out the kinks.

I pranced out of transition after 1.19. Last year, my T1 time as 2.09. This is a fair comparison as the transition area was exactly the same. Not great but not bad, comparatively speaking. Oddly enough, I was again the 42nd fastest T1er.

Bike
The bike course is/ was spectacular. The roads were well groomed. Traffic was sparsely populated. What little traffic there present was nicely controlled by the happy volunteers and dutiful police officers. Thank you sincerely to both groups for a job well done!

This year, due to the late afternoon heat wave, the wind was steady out of the south. The bike ride, already chilly, kept you cool in the first half of the ride but pushed you back home.

 

I failed to check the hill profile ahead of time. I errantly told one of my co-conspirators that the course was pretty flat. I supposed that is a matter of perspective. The Garmin reports nearly 400 feet of climbing over the 20 mile course.

The bike course did not change so I can make a fair comparison to the 2012 race. Last year, I revolved the ride in 57.37. This year, I bettered my pace and finished the bike in 55.24, or about 21.8 mph. I'm pretty happy with that time and pace. My bike ride was good enough for 13th place overall.

Transition 2
I have a pretty good skill on dismounting my bike and running into transition. I am pleased to report that my skill had not diminished much over the winter. I hit the dismount line running. I found my shoes rather quickly and racked my bike. This was a bit of a challenge as the dude on the opposite side of the rack had beaten me into transition and crowded my rack space. I solved the problem by moving my bike 2 feet south of my expected location, which I hope did not cause any issues for anyone else.

My running shoes were exactly were I left them nearly an hour ago. I slipped them onto my feet and headed my way towards the exit. Before I got to the half way point in transition, I promptly stopped. mind you, stopping mid-race is not that effective of a race strategy. Neither is attempting a 5k with a sizable stone in your sole. I paused, removed a pebble, which I believe was limestone based, reapplied my shoe and continued out of the corral in exactly 1:00. Even with the stoppage, I was the 17th fastest second transitioner.

Run 2
Having passed a large chuck of the racers on the bike, the second lap around the course was a little bit more lonely. I passed one bloke almost immediately. He would be the last person I passed on the run.

Run 2 is nearly a carbon negative of run 1.

As we ran a good chunk of the run immediately adjacent to the river, we were able to see some of the tri-paddlers in their kayaks as they navigated the relatively calm waters. For them, the current was at their back on the way down and in their bows on the way back. For us, we had a mostly flat run. The Garmin posted an elevation gain of a whopping 17 feet, most of which came from the bridges over the river.

I admit that run 2 was borderline evil. First, it was the last work of the day on pre-fatigued legs. Second, it was a little bit further that the advertised 5k by about a quarter of a mile. Third, it involved yet more running.

I was passed by 3 people during the run. The first 2 passed my around the 1 mile mark and they were pretty much together. The last guy came by about the 2.5 mile mark. I'm pretty sure they were all in my age group.

I finished the 5+k run on a 7:15 pace and a time of 23.46. This time was good enough for a surprising 20th place over that stretch.

My overall time was 1:42.13. This put me in the top 20 (I.E. exactly 20th place). In my age group, I was 8th.

Just to compare, had I been in a different age group, say the M30-34 group, I would have been in 2nd place. Or, perhaps the M40-44, I would have been in 4th. Tough age group. I raced hard and am not at all upset with my results.

Good show by the guys and gals at Fleet Feet and Yellow Jacket racing. They posted results online before I was able to limb back to transition to change my shirt. Some dude with a Guiness and an iPad confirmed that I was not in the awards banquet. I went home to collapse from my effort and begin to ready myself for the second half of this race weekend. Stay tuned.

Over the Hump

As promised, here is an update as to how ReLenting is going this season. Today marks the halfway point of my ReLenting Days. The worst part is over.  It's all downhill from here. My palms are getting hairy. I'm on the back 9. I am officially over the Hump.

This whole Lenten Challenge thing for me has historically been rather difficult. Every time I've tried, I've failed. Much the same as my Ironman marathon run. I just haven't figured it out.

Here's the way things have gone in the past:

• Make huge goals
• Start off strong
• Fizzle in the middle
• Never quite make it 
• Hate myself in the end

Here's the way it's gone in 2013:

• Make huge goals
• Start off strong
• Get the flu
• Resume before recovered
• Relapse
• Feel guilty
• Start over
• Take the new program mile by mile

On March 16th, I scratched the original plan and tried again. I rationalized that there was no real reason Lent had to end on Easter. It's not like anyone else in the world was Lenting and ending on Easter anyways. I have completed 23 days of the self-required 46. The program will end on Tuesday, May 2nd.

Here's how things have gone so far in March. You'll notice the break in activity on the 14th and 15th, which is what caused the controversy in the first place. You'll notice the addition of the evil color yellow.

Here's how April has been shaping up. You'll see some running. And some biking. And you'll notice I forgot to swim.

Despite recent race results, I feel good. I feel confident. I might even start doing some speed work.

That should be fun.

Racing Nuptuals

Spring has finally arrived. Well, sorta. In theory, spring is supposed to bring thawing temperatures, birds, flowers, and a rebirth of annoying insects. All of that seems to be postponed this year. The only thing that you can actually depend on anymore is the start of race season!

The first weekend in April is my traditional "fine I'll do a race" kickoff. Since multisport temperatures are still waiting in the distant future, racing is limited to monosport activities such as running. On Saturday morning, I lined up for the Spring Forward 15k Run, brought to you by Fleet Feet and Yellow Jacket Racing. This race would normally happen on a Sunday, but apparently there's some sort of Pagan/ Christian holiday on Sunday this year forcing the RD to change from the norm.

Pre-Marital Bliss
Race time was 8:30 am. Note to future triathlon organizers: Take lessons from a well organized running race; you don't need to start at 7:00 in order to have a good event. You are allowed to start a little later, allow your athletes to get another hour of sleep on the weekend, and still have a good turnout. Rumor has it that more than 800 runners were scheduled to attack the distance. Some self-identified 'slow' runners were allowed to start early, at 7:45.

As this was my first race of the year, my body seems to have forgotten how to relax and enjoy the moment. I suffered from the ever-present desire to not eat. I tried to force some food down my gullet but that is never a winning battle. I tried to drink some calories and had a slight success. I did drink some water, which went down smoothly.

I arrived on race campus, which was located at the beautiful Mendon Ponds Park, at 8:10. I had 20 minutes to warm up, which I took advantage of to its fullest. For the Banter, warming up for a running race goes as follows.

• Sit in car
• Turn on heat
• Make sure the heat is directed towards legs
• Recline
• Work up a nice sweat in the supine position
• With t-minus 6 minutes on the clock, head over to the starting line
• Hit the Men's room (pictured)

I knew exactly zero people in the race this year, which was about how many I was expecting. That fact gave me a chance mingle and meet new people. Race temperature was 33º. I saw a vast display of race garments represented in the group. It was hot stuff. There were running shorts that end 1 inch below the hips, running tights, booty shorts, Lululemon yoga pants, and various forms of lycra. Now, let me describe what the ladies were wearing...

So instead of using the extra 4 minutes I had left to chat, I stood like a clown ogling and drooling like a peepshow freak rubbing my gloved hands together trying to stay warm. Somewhere in this crowd, not far from me, was my new bride-to-be. I did not get to cuddle ahead of time.

At T-2 minutes, a man started making announcements on some sort of loudspeaker/ noise-making contraption. Most of the sounds emanating from this device were reminiscent of Charlie Brown's teacher. Abruptly, the crackle stopped and was replaced with a drawn-out "Gooooooooooooooooo!" We got the idea that we weren't welcomed here anymore and started running.

Delusions of Grandeur
I've done this race before. Several times, in fact. The first time was in 2010, and then again in 2011, and finally in 2012. Each and every year that I've raced here, I've gotten better. Last year, I ran just under a 1:07 holding an average of a 7:07 per mile pace.

I had no reason to believe that I wouldn't run that 'fast' this year. My training recently has been going quite well. Why- just on this recent Tuesday- I did an 8.3 miler with half mile repeats holding a 6:50 pace or better on each. Sure, I was a little sore from that effort but I felt that I could run through that. Plus, I've upped my cycling and swimming these past couple of weeks. Granted, I haven't done any actual hill work this season. But is hill work really that necessary, especially when given this hill profile?

So, I went into the race with the hope of going sub 1:06 and a plan of running 7 min miles. When I came across the first mile marker, my watch beeped in at 6:58.

The Courtship
After about a mile or so, the initial crowd starts to thin. Pace lines form and we are really nothing more than a pack of 2-legged lemmings. It was right around the 1.5 mile mark that my legs started to protest. I looked at my watch and saw why. My pace had increased to a 6:40. I still had 8 miles left to run and I was doubtful that I would be able to do this on my own. I needed support.

That's when I saw her. She was the 5'6 beauty wearing regular running shorts and a purple top. Her brunette colored ponytail swayed back and forth like a happy puppy chasing a ball. She was wisely wearing sunglasses. I held my distance for a short bit and marveled. She was running at the pace I wanted to hold.

I settled in next to her and did what every man should do when entering into a long-term relationship: I apologized. I have my watch set to beep every 0.25 miles. I find it comforting and a great aid while training. It forces me to check my pace and ensure that I'm not being overzealous or too pansy when working out. I know that it can be annoying to others but I simply didn't have the energy or focus to meander through the watch menus to turn it off. My fiance was tolerant of this incessant beeping and she told me so. Compromise is vital. We ran on.

The Wedding
The ceremony was short and sweet. It lasted about 35 seconds and it was clear that we were a perfect match for each other. Normally, I am uphill challenged but have a downhill skill. This means that I plod up while everyone else floats over the top. Then, I come screaming back down on the other side. Up until our hitching, I was pretty much the only one who practiced this technique. My new bride matched me step for step on both sides of the hill.

After the first big monster, we were officially bonded. Up and down we went attached at the running hip. We were on our honeymoon and refused to be separated. After the second big hill, I whispered sweet nothings in here ear such as, "Good hill." She lovingly responded, "<cough> Thanks."

My running bride kept the pace hot. We held a 6:48 for the third mile and I was about 20 seconds ahead of schedule if I wanted a sub-7 pace and 40 seconds ahead of schedule if I wanted a PR. My quads were on fire.

We settled back into a 7:00 mile pace but my stomach was starting to turn. There was a low rumbling sound that was audible over the pitter patter of a young couple running side by side. I'm confident my running wife heard it. This was probably her first sign that things weren't as hunky dory in our relationship. She surged up the next hill encouraged me to follow. I did my best. I was able to catch her again on the downhill but I could see the disappointment in her eyes.

The Divorce
I'm not sure who saw the warning signs first: me or her. I was becoming more labored. My breathing had intensified. My gaze had glossed over. Spittle was present on my chin. I was nothing more than the shell of a runner she once knew and loved. She did her best in the latter stages of our relationship. Over the next hill, she actually yelled "Come on."

I swear to you, I tried. I wanted to make it work. It was clear that we were drifting apart. First it was just a couple of steps. Then it was a couple of yards. She never looked back. I was wallowing in my own misery after our trial separation. She forged on ahead with her own life leaving me to figure out how to put myself back together. I decided that I needed to slow things down a bit. Way down. I walked for about 30 seconds to catch my breath. Then I started running again.

I saw her every once in a while. I would catch glimpses of her in the distance. She motored on while I was left behind with nothing but my aching legs, my lurching stomach, and my overt loneliness. I missed my PR by about 3 minutes and was able to finish with a 7:24 pace.

We met up later on for drinks. Just drinks, served in those tiny paper dixie cups. She was enjoying a snack and hanging out with her girlfriends. That's what women do after a relationship ends. I swallowed my anger at what could have been (meaning my lost PR). We exchanged pleasantries. She introduced me to her friends and told me a little bit about her up-and-coming plans (she's running Boston in a couple of weeks).

It seems like this is becoming a theme to me. My issue: bad pacing and over-zealousness in running. I recognize that I trained through this race but I absolutely hate it when I don't improve from the previous year. I've got some hill work to do. Some endurance work to do. One thing is very clear: I need to get counseling.

Relenting My Training

I'd like to think that I'm getting smarter as I get older. Or wiser. Or at least capable of using past experiences as a means to make better future decisions. Isn't that the entire point of history class anyway? (Serious question as I suck at history (among other things).)

Every year I have, what I think, is the world's most brilliant idea for Lent. I'm going to give up not working out for the duration of the Lenten season. I had that same idea this year. Thus far, I have not succeeded. Ever. I had every intention of stepping up my game and making it to the end.

Then, that damn flu hit me. Now, according to the rules, I am excused from working out due to illness. I was confirmed ill for 6 straight days. The illness actually started on March 3rd. I ego'd my way through the 4th. Then, it was full warfare for the rest of the week.

I started up again on the 11th. I did this for a couple of reasons:

• I was feeling a little better
• My nose had almost stopped running
• The weather was such that I could wear shorts
• I'm an idiot

Let's zoom in on bullet #4. This is the most pertinent point because I was clearly not over my invasion. It didn't matter. I followed up with a run on Tuesday and a ride on Wednesday. Both were quality workouts. It was quite clear to me, however, that I was starting to relapse into virus country.

Now, here's were things get sticky. I took the next 2 days off. I call this preventative maintenance. Working out can weaken your immune system temporarily. If I was already sick and potentially re-sicking, a weakened pathogen fighter would not be wise.

How did I come to this conclusion? Well, I still had some runniness (in the nose, not the legs). The most telltale symptoms were my pansiness and a splitting headache. Whereas I'm typically a perma-pansy, headaches are few and far between. (Okay, I'm quite certain that I cause a few but that's not the same thing.) If I have excruciating head pain, it's because I've either been walloped on the head with an iron pipe, been imbibing beyond my means or something else is wrong on the inside. Since I don't remember being hit on the head (not saying it didn't happen), I didn't have anything to drink (that may or may not be true- I black out at times), I'm going with something was not quite right in my head (which is a pretty safe bet at any time of the year).

Well, the Banter Lenten Oversight Committee is not as convinced as I am. They are reviewing my case and focusing on the 14-15th of March. I stopped by the delegation the other day just to listen in on the proceedings. Policy and Procedure forbid me to actually get involved in the discussion but there's nothing in the bylaws stating that I can't hear the arguments. It was an eye-opening experience. I rarely see and hear people so polarized by an exercise topic.

One one side of the debate, the "Banter is Awesome" faction was arguing that the days off actually fell within the posted guidelines. He was sick. He felt better. He got sick again. He felt better again.

On the opposite end of the spectrum, the "Banter is a Failure" clan was citing that rarely do people get sick in that fashion. If he was good enough to workout, and the workouts were of high quality, then he was good enough to put forth a couple of easy efforts.

However, the Awesome blokes pointed out that I worked out for 2 days with illness. Therefore, the 2 days later on just balances out.

Still, the Failure group countered with the "inability to make up missed time" rule. They stated that you can't make up for lost time before the time was actually lost.

I listened to the presentations and rebuttals for about 6 hours. A consensus was not reached. They were at it again today. I'm hoping that they will eventually call the case to a vote but it doesn't seem to be near that level anytime soon. The Awesome group seems to be leaning in that direction but the Failure group keeps calling in expert witnesses from various fields including sports medicine, virologists, and calendar making.

Despite all of their efforts, of which I truly am grateful, I have made a decision. I am Relenting Lent. That is to say that I am starting this whole Lent thing over. That means that I am Re-Lenting.

Since the calendar shows that March 16th was the first day that I got back into things, this will mark the initial period of Lent- Part 2. If I adhere to the original tenants of the challenge, I will workout everyday between now and Wednesday, May 1st, which is 47 days from the spot of the foul.

So here we go again. I am stubborn enough not to admit defeat. Idiot enough to keep going. And motivated enough to actually make it work. Or try to make it work. Or try to try.

I'll keep you posted.

The Challenge of Lent- 2013

Before I get on with the meat of the post, I'd like to take a moment and apologize to those of you who are expecting some sort of Wacky Wednesday report. I would only interrupt such semi-hilarity for special occasions such as natural disasters, birthdays, or Alzheimer's. Today being the kick off of Lent, and with me having a tradition of being Lental, I will have to postpone the Wacking for later on this evening when I'm alone another time.
_________________

Happy Lent to you. For those of you who are new to the show, or for those who have just plain forgotten, or for those of you who simply don't care, I am a big fan of Lent. I have absolutely no idea why. Let's try and find out...

Lent 2011
This was my first year blogging and I came up with this great idea of giving up 'not working out'. I called this extravaganza the 40 Days of Working Out. I created some rules that qualified and quantified working out.

1. I must swim, bike, and/ or run daily. Other forms of exercise do not count.
2. For it to count, the total duration must be more than 30 minutes.
3. Intensity is not important.
4. I may not work out extra in one day to make up for another day.
5. I may excuse myself from exercise if there is a legitimate risk to my health, including injury.
6. I may excuse myself from exercise if there is a legitimate obligation to the Wife.

It wasn't until well into the season that I learned how to count and came to the conclusion that Lent was actually 46 days, not 40. I worked out for 45 of those days. Quote from the conclusion of that season, "I might have been better served by taking a day off and really attacking my workout versus stringing together a few of mandated sessions that my body wasn't interested in."

Lent 2012
It's amazing what a year will do to your brain cells. The further you are removed from the incident, the more appealing it becomes. Lost to the wind are the bad times. Gone is the hatred. Absent is the negative. The only thought that remains is the calling that lead you to the original conclusion. Therefore, I decided to try again. "I promised that I wouldn't do that again. As it turns out, I am a complete idiot."

I failed. But, the Lenten Challenge leave me alive, with only a couple of scars down the sides of my cheeks as reminders of the experience. It went so poorly that I didn't even report my progress, or lack there of. I completely glossed over the fact that I was a Lenten Loser. I blogged as if the Challenge didn't even exist. Sorry about that.

Lent 2013
Starts today. And, since I am obviously a short-sighted bloke with poor long-term memory skills and a lower-than-average cranial capacity, I am officially starting the 2013 46-Days-of-Working-Out.

Given my Lenten history of bitterness and failure, why in the world would I do this again?

Well, for the exact same reasons I annually sign up for the Ironman (which may not be too far off from now). For 1, it's hard. For 2, I hate failing. Even though I biff it repeatedly, that doesn't mean I appreciate the fact that it won. Every year I have a rotten IM. Every year I have a rotten Lent. But, I think I can beat them both. I have no evidence for this. The data actually refute that hypothesis. Doesn't matter to me. I'm quite stubborn on most aspects of life and I'm not going to let this one a pass.

With each subsequent failure, I grow stronger in my desire to prove to myself (and to you if you care to read about it) that I have what it takes to actually be a success. Just because I sucked in the past is no reason to predict that I will suck in the future. (Okay, that may be bad reasoning. But reasoning intelligently has also not been one of my strengths.)

Hear that Lent. I am not afraid of you. I may despise you, but I am willing to tackle you head on. Face first. You may win again this year. I won't be easy. I refuse to go down without a fight. If you have any hope of beating me this year, you had better bring it. Because I am ready. (Plus I also have a few extra pounds I need to lose. I'll add that to the list of incentives to beat the system.)

Goals of my Lenten Challenge 2013

• 46 Consecutive Days of Working Out
• Following the rules and procedures established in 2011
• Lose 8 pounds by Easter  (official weigh in this morning, on my off by 5-pounds scale, was 172.2)

Anyone else with me? Goals for you?

Naming Workouts

For Immediate Release

During the upcoming 2013 training season, Tri-Banter.blogspot.com will name noteworthy training sessions. Our goal is to better communicate the threat and the timing of the significant impacts that accompany these events. The fact is, a training session with a name is easier to follow, which will mean fewer surprises and more preparation.

Naming Workouts
Track sessions and long runs have been given names since the 1940s. In the late 1800s, swim training sessions near Australia were named as well. Training systems, including winter training, have been named in Europe since the 1950s. Important dividends have resulted from attaching names to these training sessions:

• Naming a workout raises awareness.
• Attaching a name makes it much easier to follow a workout’s progress.
• A workout with a name takes on a personality all its own, which adds to awareness.
• In today’s social media world, a name makes it much easier to reference in communication.
• A named workout is easier to remember and refer to in the future.

The question then begs to ask “Why aren’t workouts named?”  In fact, in Europe the naming of workouts has been going on for a long time.  Here in the U.S., summer time exercise including recovery runs and easy days occur on such a small time and space scale that there would be little benefit and much confusion trying to attach names to them. However, harder training is different. Workouts occur on a time and space scale that is similar to tropical training.

In fact, historically many major training sessions have been named during or after the event has occurred. Examples include “The President’s Day Run” and “Swimageddon.” Yet, until now, there has been no organized naming system for these workouts before they impact physiological centers.

One of the reasons this may be true is that there is no national workout center, such as the National Exercise Center, to coordinate and communicate information on a multi-state scale to cover such big events. The Centers for Raised Awareness and Prevention (CRAP) does issue discussions and training plans on a national scale but it does not fill the same role as the USAT. Therefore, it would be a great benefit for a partner in the exercise industry to take on the responsibility of developing a new concept.   

This is where a world-class organization such as Tri-Banter.blogspot.com will play a significant role. We have the physiological ability, support and technology to provide the same level of coaching for workouts that we have done for years with semi-entertaining blog posts.

In addition to providing information about significant workouts by referring to them by name, the name itself will make communication and information sharing in the constantly expanding world of social media much easier.  As an example, hash tagging a workout based on its name will provide a one-stop shop to exchange all of the latest information on the impending high-impact anaerobic efforts.

There will be many differences from the “traditional model” for naming workoutss. Unlike simple runs, training takes place at efforts under extreme energy and forces from the body.

Often a workout that is expected to strike a metropolitan area three days from now has not even completely formed in the training log. Therefore, naming of workouts will be limited to no more than three days before impact to ensure there is moderate to strong confidence the workout will actually happen and produce physiological effects in an area of the body.  In addition, the impacts from workouts are not as simple to quantify as speed training sessions where a workout is named once the paces exceed a certain threshold.

The process for naming a workout will reflect a more complete assessment of several variables that combine to produce disruptive impacts including snowfall, ice, wind, temperature, and relative pansiness on the day.  In addition, the time of day (morning vs. evening) and the day of the week (weekday school and work; travel vs. weekends; Spring Break) will be taken into consideration in the process the Banter will use to name workouts.

This is an ambitious project. However, the benefits will be significant. Naming workouts will raise the awareness of the public, which will lead to more pro-active efforts to plan ahead, resulting in less impact and inconvenience overall.

Coordination and information sharing should improve between bloggers as well as the media, leading to less ambiguity and confusion when assessing big workouts that affect multiple states of mind. It will even make it easier and more efficient for social media to communicate information regarding the workout resulting in a better informed public. And, on the occasion that different workouts are scheduled on the same day, naming workouts will allow for clearer communications.

Finally, it might even be fun and entertaining and that in itself should breed interest from our reading public and our digital users.  For all of these reasons, the time is right to introduce this concept for the season of 2013.

Call to Action
I am asking you, the reader, to help me in this endeavor. I am looking to compile an A-Z list of named workouts. The name could be just about anything., PG-13 or below please. Comment with your proposed name and description of the workout. United on this front, we can change the way people think and report on exercise.

Special Thanks
Thanks to The Weather Channel's ludicrous policy of naming winter storms for providing the inspiration for this post.

Evidence of Economic Recovery

Let's face it, my finances for the past year haven't been exactly on top of their game. There's a big reason for this: the Democrats are in control and have been for quite some time we were paying the bills on 2 houses at the same time. Then, a couple of weeks ago, the burden was lifted on one of those fine dwellings. We found a nice young couple of suckers to take over the responsibilities of the old house.

• Gone was the second mortgage (okay, it was actually the first mortgage since we owned that house first). 
• Gone was the insurance premium, which we kept current because we had this secret dream that some natural disaster would wipe the house out and we could simply collect the premium and be done with the housing market (yes, I know there are flaws in that scheme, just let me have my fantasy). Also, the mortgage people required it.
• Gone was the school tax that we still have to pay even though we don't have any children. Since I am a teacher, it's sort of like paying my own salary. And that, like all perpetual motion devices, doesn't work as well as you'd hope.
• Gone was the water bill, whose main purpose was to make sure the toilets would flush. Apparently, if you let the bowl go dry due to natural evaporation, the scent trap underneath gets freed and you populate your house with the smell of your community's sewer system. The basic service fee cost more than the amount of water used and almost all of that was by flushing non-soiled toilets.
• Gone was the gas bill, whose sole purpose was to provide fuel to the boiler and give heat so that the water pipes needed to flush the toilet didn't burst in places we didn't want them to. (It's a viscous loop.)
• Gone was the electric bill, whose sole purpose was to provide energy to the pump that circulated the hot water from the boiler to the rest of the house so that the pipes wouldn't freeze so that we could flush the toilet. 
• (It seems a lot of our money went into making sure that the toilet would flush in a house that we didn't want anymore.)

Now that all of the above has been deleted from our list of requirements, our bank account is starting to show signs something that resembles normalcy. For example, I have heard of places that will make food for you. You walk in to these place and select an item from a list of options. You are allowed to make changes, such as adding additional products or removing  a selection. Then, they will cook your food and deliver it to you fresh and hot. We tried that the other day and it was awesome.

Further evidence, new shoes. I've been in need of a new pair for a while now. My old ones were getting a little ratty. Look at the pic. These obviously aren't mine because I would never actually run in a pair of Saucony's (unless someone from Saucony wants to sponsor me, then of course I'd love the shoe <ahem- hint hint->). The shoes in the pic share some striking similarities with my real shoes-Mizuono's (if anyone from Mizuno happens to be reading this, I'm expecting a call from Saucony to discuss sponsorship, but I will entertain any offers from you). With all of my cash being flushed, I've been holding off on the purchase. No more! I actually bought a pair of new running shoes. Granted, they haven't made me any faster but my feet do stay a little warmer and dryer in the winter's cold.

Here's the big one. The conclusive evidence that my checkbook has been unburdened from its shackles. The sure fire way that you know that things are starting to look up for the Banter again.

I'm training again.

Up until yesterday, I had simply been working out. The philosophy behind that statement can be found here. For those of you too lazy to click the link, allow me to summarize. No races + no goals= No training. As you have probably surmised, I have officially signed up for a race. My sidebar has been updated. I am taking my nice new running shoes out for their very first training run later today.

I signed up for the Keuka Lake Triathlon- Olympic Distance. The KLT is an outstanding event. It's a beautiful location. Challenging course. Perfect amenities. I mean it no harm or disservice when I say this is/ nor will not be the main event of my season. Then, why in the world did I choose this race first?

A couple of reasons: First, it's the traditional kickoff to the triathlon season. Most races prior to June are either running-only events or duathlons. Most triathletes are pansies (myself included) who don't like cold water swims. Upstate NY is mired by high latitude numbers. This equates to poor levels of insolation and, due to water's high specific heat, a tendency to have chilly water temps. Any colder, in some years, and the race would become a duathlon, which is triathlon's bastard brother of multisport.

Second, of all of the triathlon race distances, I enjoy the Olympic Distance the least. Don't get me wrong, all triathlon events are fun and on orders of magnitudes greater than their single sport companions. If you take the rest of the sporting world out of the equation and focus at the pointy end of the spectrum, Olys are the hardest. They're almost fast. They're almost long. They're completely hard. But, I have delusions of longer stuff, making this race a great steeping stone. It's also a rather efficient gauge of my early season fitness.

And lastly, I signed up for this race because the RD is smart. Triathlons are expensive to start off with, difficult to plan, and complicated to coordinate. Unlike running races which seem to allow anyone with a twenty dollar bill to get in, there is a triathlon race capacity. Swarms of competitors swimming, biking, and running take work to manage and keep safe. More people equals more work and more risk. But triathlon is growing while the venue capacity seems to have stagnated. RD's all across the country are seeing their race sell out. This is a good thing for them. In fact, the earlier the race sells out, the better. They get capital in hand, pay their bills (which may or may not be toilet flushing related), and can plan accordingly.

With that in mind, RD's offer a discount for people to sign up early. Like I said, the RD is smart. This is the real reason I signed up for the race. The KLT early bird special ended yesterday. That knowledge alone was enough for me to open my wallet, pull out the credit card, and sign the electronic waiver. I "saved" $5 by forking over digital cash yesterday instead of today. It's still not enough to get someone to bring me cooked food, but it's a start.

The other races on my wish list have later deadlines and I am a procrastinator by nature. I will be signing up for more races. I still have yet to register for the big one. I have an idea for that race. But, like I said earlier, we are not in full blown recovery and tris are expensive. I'll keep you posted.

I'm Single Again

Our relationship started near the beginning of the 2000's. It is officially over. Done. Kaput. The end game has been building for quite some time. Lawyers were involved. The grand finale was finally announced via my attorney this past Friday. The bittersweet news has come as a relief.

The Wife and I agreed that it was time to move on. Problems in the relationship were quite apparent several years ago. We did our best to work through them. We tossed energy and money at the problems with various levels of success. But, when the situation is clearly littered with signs of discontent, illness, and unhappiness, no amount of therapy is going to solve the problem.

To be honest, I had no idea how difficult it would be to make the break. We started the proceedings in November, 2011 (yeah, it's been going on that long). Releasing yourself from your burdens is not an easy task. You cannot just walk away. There were times when I wanted to simply give up and just cope with the discomfort of the situation. That's not really in my character, or the Wife's, so we trudged on.

I was surprised as to the snail's pace of the process. There are just so many things that were out of my control. I had to depend on so many people to make sure all of the forms were filled out properly. That deadlines were met. That paperwork was filed in the right offices. Further, all of these things cost money. Precious money that I didn't really have.

In March 2012, we started our separation. The experts say this is the best way to go about things. I can't argue with them as I simply don't know enough about the process. I felt no larger than a trained monkey. They say- I do. That means things have been frustrating/ annoying/ over my head for the past 9 months.

Aside: The sense of abandonment is overwhelming. I have never felt this way before. If I had to describe it, my liberty would be similar to what the soldiers in the movie Braveheart felt. When I got the news, I was at work. I really wanted to moon the world and yell "FREEDOM"! However, I am a teacher and work is filled with minors. Showing my arse to a bunch of underage impressionables would probably cost me my job and my license. I celebrated internally initially and later-on with fermented grapes. I have released my shackles while keeping my job and career. End Aside.

Just to be clear, especially to you ladies, I am not on the market, or in the market, or whatever jargon they are using these days. I am 100% not available. I have no idea if I will ever be.

As expected, I don't expect that my life in the future will be the same as it was in the past. When you release yourself from a major commitment, not matter how big or important, life cannot go on as it once was. Does this mean a change in the blog? I don't know. Does this mean a change in my training? Clueless. Is my life heading in a new direction? Absolutely.

So, all that's needed to be done has been done. All that's needed to be said has been said. All that's needed to be signed has been signed. It is time for a new chapter in my life to inevitably commence.

From this day forward, I shall celebrate my single-ness. I am quite proud to tell you that we finally sold our old house!

We are no longer a two-household family. A nice young couple bought our old house. We have a single home. A single mortgage. A single set of utility bills. I wish the new owners of our old home the best of times. It really was a good house. I hope it serves them well. From my perspective, and from the Wife's, we couldn't be happier that this burden has finally been lifted.