Tips for Quality Run Training Train no faster than one pace quicker than the race you are training for. For example, 5k pace is good for an Olympic-distance race, while half-marathon pace suffices...
6 Tips For Quality Run Training
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IRONMAN Maryland: Goof Race Recap
IRONMAN Maryland Part 1
I signed up for Ironman Maryland initially due to the reviews that said it was fast, and beautiful. Jaime started it with all the hype about it being a fast flat bike course because she despises hills, even though most of her fastest bike splits came on hilly courses. Touché. So, last year after a lot of pestering Pete, we registered and the training began. Pete, Jaime and I have been training together for about 4 years, ever since I decided to get serious about triathlon. We ingeniously started calling ourselves “PB&J”. Get it? Peanut Butter and Jelly or Pete, Brad & Jaime.
Interesting enough though, I really wanted a sub 12-hour Ironman and Jaime was shooting for a sub-13, so as much as we enjoy training together we actually ended up going our own ways. I started training at Tribal Multisport with Coach Jon Noland, and Jaime trained with Personal trainer and elite athlete Kenneth Jones.
We made all the arrangements well in advance. We had hotel reservations at the host hotel, restaurant reservations, tri-bike transport was scheduled, flights were booked and cars were rented well in advance.
We talked constantly throughout the months, confirming our plans, comparing training schedules and every once in a while, we actually did get together to train. PB&J looked strong and ready to face IRONMAN Maryland together. Unfortunately, in September, Pete ended up injuring his Achilles’ tendon and after a lot of conjecture decided it wasn’t in the cards for him this year. I told him, it would better to live and race another day than to permanently hurt himself.
We departed for the race on Wednesday, September 30 completely anxious and excited. We headed to Tampa International Airport, for an uneventful flight into Baltimore-Washington Airport. Within a half hour we were in our Jeep Compass rental and headed up Rte 50 in Maryland.
We stopped for a quick lunch at Carmine’s Pizza to carb load with pizza and salad and just as we are about to pull out of our parking space and back into traffic, Jamie’s phone rings. Ed, a friend and first time Ironman athlete, called and tells us the race has been cancelled. I could hear Jamie’s voice say, “Uh say that again…wait…wait. Let me put you on speaker.” A deep Jersey accent comes from her speaker and says “They cancelled the race.” Really? This early.
The last time WTC cancelled a race it was in Lake Tahoe and the athletes were in their wetsuits ready to jump in. They waited that long and now, 3 days before the race they were cancelling it.
We jumped on Facebook, and the IRONMAN Maryland site and were met with the validation that WTC had indeed cancelled the race. It turned out the immediate threat from Hurricane Joaquin was dire and it was in their best interest to keep the athletes, volunteers, race staff and spectators safe. Not to mention, there was already four inches of water already on the course.
We got somewhat lucky. We were able to find a flight home that night, and the hotel did not charge us a night for cancelling so late. Unfortunately, the flight back cost us just as much as the full round trip, and because we pre-paid the car we couldn’t get that back.
WTC anticipated rescheduling but couldn’t give the athletes a final decision until the following Tuesday. The wait was hard. What do you do? Do you keep tapering? Do call it a season? There was nothing to do but wait.
Late Monday night an email hit my account stating that the race was back on and it would be held on October 17th as predicted. All I can think of was “Here we go again.” What if the weather was bad again? Would we spend even more money just to go through another disappointment?
IRONMAN Maryland Part Deux
Coach Jon, put a schedule together of low duration, high intensity workouts to keep my body from degrading fitness for the next week, and I managed to squeeze out a 17 mile run with a client that felt awesome the Sunday prior. The weather outlook was good, cold, but decent. As the days passed, the forecast kept getting colder and windier, but no precipitation was even close.
This time it was going to happen.
From Tuesday on, Jamie, myself and another training partner of hers, Hunter, had a group text as we kept planning our trip. We found decent round-trip flights, Hunter found a rental house, and I again reserved a car. Of course this time I bought the trip insurance as well, which, of course, I did not need.
The View from our DC Hotel
And on October 14th, we took off for the second time from Tampa and arrived, this time at National Airport in DC. We spent a great night at the Residence Inn in Pentagon City before heading out to Cambridge the next day.
As I drove though the rural part of Cambridge and into the long drive way of our rental home, I was surprisingly calm. Subconsciously, I think I just didn’t want to get my hopes up, but my heart rate did jump at the surprise I felt pulling into the gravel drive way. It was gorgeous!
Our Cambridge Ironman HQ
There stood a modest one-story ranch home, but on a huge amount of acreage that backed up to a lake. It had it’s own dock, fire pit, pool, and a beautiful deck. Inside it was an open floor plan with a dining-kitchen area, huge great room and three good size bedrooms. It was decorated modestly, with wood floors and a kind of rural, yet updated and upscale charm to it. All of the appliances were current models in the kitchen and baths with flat screens in each room, and a large one, in the great room, a fireplace and gigantic sectional couch that all of us could have slept on.
What was even luckier was that it wasn’t only Hunter, Jamie and myself, but Kenneth and his parents, so by sharing it, the cost was not even half of what we would have to pay for the hotel.
I also have to say, that Ken’s parents, treated all of us like we were their kids. His Mom, Lucy, cooked and cleaned for us, and his Dad, Phil, grilled, shopped and chauffeured us around to make sure we were at the right place at the right time. It was like Ken, outsourced his parents to us. Of course that wasn’t the case. It seemed like they genuinely loved doing it.
It came time to travel over to transition and pick up our bikes, and then head to Ironman Village to check-in.
We reached transition and since Hunter and Ken already had their bikes, because Ken and his parents drove them up, they headed out to check out the swim start while Jamie and I talked to Tri-bike transport. Jamie’s bike was already in the rack, but unfortunately, mine was not to be found. My stomach took a little turn when Drew, from TBT, said I wasn’t on the list to have my bike at the race.
Luckily, he said that my bike was in the truck, but it was with the bikes that were sectioned off for the athletes that were not going to be returning.
I headed over to the transition area to scope it out and then took a quick peek at the swim start and at that point, my anxiety started to increase. This was happening. There no “ands”, “ifs or “buts”. I was going to be racing my third Ironman.
Ironman village was exactly as it was for every other Ironman and Ironman 70.3 I have raced except, because they were not able to keep all of the original volunteers procured, it was a lot slower checking in. We waited in line for close to two hours before we finally made it under the tent to pick up our packets and swag.
When we finally got through that line, we contemplated going into the Ironman store, but the line to check-out was just as long and we still wanted to get a quick workout in. In every Ironman store I have been in, for every race, the cashiers, (bless their hearts) are always so slow that you know if you do get in that line, it is going to be a lot of time.
We headed back, and unfortunately, I had yet to receive a call from Drew to tell me that he was able to dig out my bike, so the others headed out on their bikes and I decided I would just work a little while I waited for his call. At 4pm, I did receive the call and 45 minutes later I was back at the house with my bike.
Leading up to the Saturday morning, was pretty much the same as any other long race. Putting gear bags together, going over transition and nutrition plans, and quick workouts in all three events. These were basically just to make sure everything was in working order.
The Goof, Ken, Hunter, Jaime & Ed before a swim workout
Did I mention Thursday night we had a campfire and made s’mores? Yeah, we did that too.
The Swim Start
I was pretty shocked at how well I slept Friday night. We had all turned in quite early, in anticipation of not being able to sleep, but I drifted off pretty fast and slept until the 4:00am alarm woke me up. None of us were in a rush as we all felt pretty prepared, and the outside temperature was only in the upper 30s. I dressed, ate and leisurely grabbed my morning bag and we headed out into the darkness.
Leaving the house I had yet to really feel nervous, but as soon as we pulled up to transition, I felt a pressure in my chest. My heart started to beat so hard, I thought it was going to crack through my rib cage and take off on me.
I looked over at Jamie, and she looked back and said,”Sh*t just got real.”
After outfitting my bike with my nutrition and helmet, I took a walk over to the actual swim start line and looked over the water. Waves didn’t seem that bad, but the water was far from calm. I could feel the wind on my skin even through the wetsuit. Luckily, while it was 38 degrees outside, but the water it was 63. That was going to work in our favor, as it was actually going to feel warmer in the water.
Around 6:40, Jamie, Hunter, Ed and I were all hanging out trying to keep warm and maintain a positive mental attitude, when the speaker echoed our announcer’s voice. The safety team had stated that the winds were causing a lot of churning in the water, so the boats and paddle boards could not take their places on the course. The solution was to shorten the course to 1.2 miles.
I should have been really excited about this, as the swim is my weakest event, but I wasn’t. I was actually a little upset not only because I wanted to prove to myself I could get out of the water within my goal, but also for Ed and Hunter as this was their first full distance Ironman.
What else could happen? First they postpone the race, and now they shorten the course. This race just seemed cursed.
That was not the end of the story. Around 7:10, an announcement was made that, the winds had died just a little and would be enough to get most of the swim in. We would do the swim, but we would be about 800 meters short.
Things just looked better. I felt redeemed and a positive relief flowed through me for about half a second. I still had to get passed the swim. If you remember from my post about my last Ironman, I was the last one out of the water to be able to cross the line. I worked a lot harder on my swim this training cycle, now I would have to prove it.
At 7:30 we lined up according to how much time we thought it would take us to swim the full 2.4 miles. I lined up at the behind the 1:30 sign and after waiting another 20 minutes to get through the line, it was my turn to jump in.
The water still frigid enough to shock my body a little, but my adrenaline kept me warm. I immediately headed to the first buoy where we would turn right and then head in triangular pattern.
I felt really good during the first lap. For the first time in an Ironman race I was actually passing people and it felt amazing. I still felt pretty strong as I made the turn for the second lap, but I did slow down a bit.
As much as I thought I loved my long sleeve wet suit, I didn’t have the mobility in my arms, that I developed during training, and I had to strain to lift my arm into a streamline position. I listened to myself hypothesize about it and I thought, “Am I really thinking this? Did I really become a decent enough swimmer to even contemplate it?”
On the second lap, the wind picked up again and I thought I was swimming in my washing machine. I got tossed around and the effort level increased. I did end up breast stroking intermittently for a few minutes to catch my breath and realign my siting, but I continued. My habit of zig zagging didn’t show up until the last straight away while I was trying to sight on the finish. The waves were pushing me in the wrong direction, but my sighting was able to put me back on a good path. I jumped out of the water and ran towards the timing mats, and as I crossed I looked down at my watch – 1:10.
1:10? Really? I had to double check it twice. If I added the 800 meters back on I would have finished around 1:25-1:30 which, was my goal.
I was so excited I sprinted to the strippers, but for some reason they didn’t help. My wet suit would just not come off of me and when it did, oh man, did I feel the weather. The wind hit me, and my soaked tri kit, like a brick wall.
I headed into the changing tent and dawned a bike kit, arm warmers, a gator neck, and gloves. By the time I added my helmet I looked like a Tri Ninja.
The Bike
Ed gave us a quick rundown of the bike course the night before, as he came up earlier in the year and actually trained on it. He explained how the course was an oval and we would probably have a head wind on one of the shorter sides and away or back to transition. This would account for two blocks of 12 miles since we had two laps. I was ok with it. I would just turtle for those 24 miles. (This is a technique keeping your head down and allowing your back to come up like a turtle shell to be as aerodynamic as possible.) The rest of it my plan was to stick to 75-80% of my functional threshold power(FTP) as possible. In training that proved to be right around 20 miles per hour which should get me back to transition in 5:35, and then taking account for the wind, sub 6 hours.
No such luck. I have never ever been on a bike course where the majority of the turns were to the right, and kept being hit by the shear force of a 33 mph head wind.
I wish that were the only factor that slowed me down.
I knew because of the temperature that I would not want to drink, but due to the fact my calories were mostly in my bottles, I would have to. What I didn’t count on was that I would have to stop at a portlet every 10-15 miles to urinate. I am just not die-hard enough to urinate while I am on the bike, and we were specifically told that if athletes were caught relieving ourselves outside of designated facilities they would be DQed. That slowed me down.
From mile 40 to 50 we were all riding on the shoulder of the road, into the wind. Directly to the right of the white line were slowing rickets with very small spaces in between them. They seemed a little dangerous, so everyone was either on the right of them, or on the left and swerving to the right when traffic would come from behind.
I was in aero, with my head down, when I saw a tire in front of me, so I yelled “On your left.” The wind was so loud the person in front of me, wearing a “This Guy Needs A Beer” jersey, could not hear me. As I slowed down to keep enough bike lengths between us to satisfy the drafting rule, I noticed a motorcycle next to me. It was an official.
He pulls out a memo pad and yells to me, “At the next penalty box, tell them you have blue card.” Well, I wasn’t going to start arguing while I was the bike, so I nodded.
At the mile 56 aid station there was a penalty box, so like a good athlete I did what I was told, and so did the other seven athletes that came in behind me. There we all were. Eight, age group, athletes standing stretching while we waited for our five minutes to be up. I am all for rules, order and safety , but it’s a little ridiculous when there are eight people in the penalty box all caught doing the same thing on the same stretch of road. As this was my 3.4 hour mark on the bike, I asked the volunteer who had to time the penalties how many he had so far. He kind of smirked and said it had to be over one hundred.
At that point I just had to laugh. I got back on my bike and continued trudging through the wind.
Ten miles later, a slow burn started aching my legs. I didn’t understand it. My cadence was up, but no matter how high I shifted, I felt like my effort level was increasing. Then I heard what was a metal grinding. Yep, you guessed it. A flat in my rear tire. These were brand new tubular tires, I had installed just for the race, and now I punctured them. I had a bottle of pit stop in my jersey, so it was only a couple of minutes before I was back on my bike. With Pit Stop, I didn’t even have to take the tire off, just empty the contents of the bottle into the tire and go.
Luckily, I didn’t have to stop nearly as much the second loop as I did the first to urinate, so I picked up a little bit of time, but while keeping to my FTP goals, I could barely get above 17 mph. It felt slow and torturous.
The left turn for the last 12 miles came and I thought maybe we would catch a break and as I passed the last aid station one of the volunteers yelled, “Your on your way back, no more wind!”
He lied.
The whole way back to transition, the wind hit us and kept our pace to a slow 16-17 mph.
As I dismounted my bike, I could feel not feel my toes or my hands, and I was just frigid. I tried to take off my bike gear, and it was extremely difficult. I felt like I did, during the last ironman at mile 13 of the run and I hadn’t even started the run yet.
The grumbles in the changing tent were all the same. The bike was windy, it was tough and it sucked, but it was over. A few of the guys who competed in last year’s event said they were over an hour slower than the previous year. That actually made me feel a little better.
The Run
I have a saying I give to my athletes when they start to walk or I find them giving up on themselves. “The mind will quit 100 times before the body does.”
For a nanosecond a thought went through my head. “I already did two of these, I don’t need to prove anything to anybody. Forget this.” Then the next nanosecond went by with my inner dialogue that said “Who are you kidding Minus? You know you are going to finish if you have to crawl across that finish line. You never quit anything in your life, what makes you think your going to do it now?” The last words that echoed in my voice were that of my coach Jon Noland. “Embrace the Suck.”
I changed the best I could with numb fingers and toes and started the run. (I found out later I spent over 20 minutes in T2. It sure didn’t feel that long. I must have taken a nap.)
The first two miles felt a little slow, then at mile three it was like the pearly gates opened up. My legs transitioned into a good running form and I took off. I felt amazing.
I kept to my strategy of walking through the water stops, which during an Ironman is every mile, but they are only a few yards long, unlike those at a major marathon, where the distance could exceed a hundred yards.
At mile seven I actually felt a side stitch which hasn’t happened in a race in years. Luckily, I still had my wits about me. What is the cause, or better yet, what is absent from my body that would possibly cause a stitch? Potassium. Wouldn’t you know it but an aid station was just fifty meters ahead of me, so I grabbed a banana. Within the next quarter mile, the stitch was gone, so I picked up speed again.
The course was two-and-a-half loops that took us from transition through a residential neighborhood, around a park, back through the neighborhood passed transition, into downtown Cambridge where it either started again, or headed to Ironman Village and Finish line.
We had been told that Cambridge was supportive of the race and even in these cold temperatures, the town was out in droves.
Along the route there were kids on their lawns cheering, a dancing banana, residents on lawn chairs, and local bands playing outside their homes. While running through downtown people were outside the bars drinking and cheering every athlete on as they passed. It was just spectacular.
I found Jamie ahead of me around mile 5 and we ended up passing each other three more times. Each time I was getting closer and closer to her. I had hoped to get closer, but in the end she did end up crossing about three minutes ahead of me.
I never ran over 90% of the run during an Ironman before. This time the only time I walked was through water stops and only stopped twice to use the portlet. Granted it was not extremely fast, but it was still over twenty minutes faster than my best Ironman.
My legs at mile twenty were very heavy and this was the half lap and the last time I would have to turn left after downtown Cambridge. I kept going, and didn’t stop but it was getting quite dark to a point where there was a portion of road where I couldn’t see my hand in front of my face. I just kept going.
The thing I just kept thinking in my head was one day, I would finish an Ironman and it would still be daylight.
I came out of downtown Cambridge and made the right towards the chute. I heard the announcer call my name and as I saw the arch of the finish, I wondered if I had it in me.
I ran just a little faster and jumped up, caught a little air and touched the arch. I was an Ironman. Again.
My finishing time was 13:08:53 which was actually and hour and forty-six minutes faster than my best Ironman, but if I kept the same pace on the swim, I calculated I would probably have crossed about 20 minutes later which would have given me a ninety minute personal record. In those conditions, I‘ll take it.
Of course I did not do this alone. I have to thank my coach, Jon Noland for training me (coaches need coaches too), the athletes at Tribal Multisport for pushing me further than I thought possible, the Moxie Multisport team for the help with gear, nutrition, and the support to keep me going through the long training period, my travel and housemates, Jamie, Hunter, and Ken for the great time at the house, and for keeping me sane and laughing, Ken’s parents, Phil & Lucy for the race weekend support, and last but never least, Kim for supporting me at home through this third Ironman.
NYC Marathon 2014: The Glorious Goofy Race Recap
It’s been a couple of weeks since I have been back from the NYC Marathon, a couple of weeks since my last post and worse yet, almost a year since my last race recap, so I guess it’s about time I write one.
REGISTERING FOR THE NYC MARATHON
The NYC Marathon is probably one of the hardest races to compete in. There are three choices:
- Enter the lottery to be chosen
- Be granted a guaranteed entry by competing in another race and completing it in a specified time (which is even harder than getting into the Boston Marathon)
- Running in 9 races, organized by the New York Road Runners, and volunteering in one.
Entering the lottery used to include a clause that stated if you applied for the lottery three years in a row and did not receive an entry you automatically were granted a slot to run on the fourth year. That is how I was able to run it. As of last year that option no longer exists, so entering the lottery gives the same odds every year.
For me, in the 40-44 age group I would need to run a 3:10 marathon in order to receive guaranteed entry in the following NYC Marathon. That is a 7:15 min/mile average pace. It makes me tired just thinking about it. By the way, to get into Boston I have to run a 3:15, which is a 7:26 min/mile pace.
Flying up to NYC 10 times in a year would be awesome if my financial status were higher, so that is not a reality either.
Barring any increases in speed, luck or wealth, this might have been my only chance to run this race, so I gratefully took it. No matter how cold it ended up being.
Ok enough whining. Obviously, I enjoyed myself, otherwise I wouldn’t be so upset about getting in again. LOL!
THE EXPO
With 75,000 entries in the NYC Marathon, the organization of this race had to be run like a well-oiled machine and it was. I ended up visiting the expo twice. Once on Friday when I arrived, and once on Saturday when old friend, Dom Forth, flew in from San Francisco.
Both of my experiences were the same. A crowd of runners picking up their bib packets and t-shirts and then milling around the vendor area.
Interesting enough, I never spent more than a few minutes in any line anywhere. There were plenty of booths setup for packet pickup and plenty of help to retrieve t-shirts. Shocking right? I was pretty surprised myself.
The rest of the NYC Marathon expo was what one would expect. All the major brands, charities and races with the exception there were a lot more international marathons presented. I had no idea there was a Jerusalem Marathon, but I do now and I am putting it on my bucket list. Just as soon as I finish the Super Six (Chicago, NYC, Boston, London, Berlin & Tokyo). Two down, four to go.
PRE-RACE
Logistics are interesting when it comes to races aren’t they? Most races, whether they be road races or triathlons, seem to start right around the 7am mark. Disney starts their races at 5:30am on Marathon Weekend which is really early and also means that people are getting to the race around 4am. Not the NYC Marathon. I was assigned to the first wave which started at 9:40am, but did that mean I could sleep in? No such luck, I had to be on the Staten Island Ferry by 5:45am.
Within three minutes of departing the Hilton Garden Hotel I was was riding in a taxicab to the ferry launch, which was lucky because at the time the mercury was dipping below 40 degrees. I am usually optimistic about walking in New York City, but at 5:00 am on a briskly cold morning like this one, I was glad to be riding in a heated cab with Morrie. He was extremely jubilant for a New Yorker at this time in the morning, which proctored him to give me a history lesson about the marathon on our 20 minute excursion. Most people might have been a little annoyed by Morrie’s rants about the last 30 races, but I actually savored the distraction and I learned a few things in that time as well.
Walking into the building that provided shelter from the launch, the aroma of coffee and baked goods overwhelmed me. At this time, all I wanted was a hot cup of coffee and with vendors lining the sides of the train station like benches, I had my choice. I chose the shortest line and within a few minutes had a large cup of liquid paradise warming my hands.
TRAVELING TO THE START
Dom and his friend Ryan, walked in about 5:45 just as the first ferry was leaving, but as the schedule for the morning had transportation running every 15 minutes, we were able to immediately board the next one departing at 6 am.
The ferry was warm, very clean and incredibly smooth as it cut through the Hudson River. It provided a chance to relax and swap stories with Ryan in order to get to know him a little. This was Ryan’s first marathon. He received a guaranteed entry from his 9+1 option. It made it a little easier for him since he lives in Brooklyn.
Once we reached the exit launch, we were ushered, very orderly, off the ferry and onto a line of coach buses for a quick trip to the race villages.
In order to accommodate over 70,000 runners, the NYC Marathon organizers divided up the participants into waves, colors and corrals. For instance, I was Wave 1, green, corral E, which meant I was a 9:40 am start, in the green village in the very last corral. To tell you the truth I was just happy to be in the first wave. The last wave was going to be starting close to 11:00 am which meant the average runner wouldn’t be even thinking about the finish line until around 3:15 – 3:30.
THE RACE VILLAGES
The villages were spread out, so once departing the bus and getting through a security pat down it was still a half mile walk to the green village. Dom, Ryan and I said our good-byes, and they headed off to the blue village as I set out to find green.
The Green village was in a unique location as the Verazzano bridge was literally above us. “Village” in this instance is actually defined as a gated off area for runners to loiter while waiting on the race start. The amenities included, UPS trucks to drop our baggage for after the race, Dunkin Doughnut tents that provided hot coffee and hot water for tea or hot chocolate, food tents that provided granola bars, bananas, bagels and other goodies, and of course portlets.
It’s 7 am, I am checked into my NYC Marathon village, I have had one cup of coffee, I am holding another, I am freezing and I still have two-hours and forty minutes until the start of the race. Here is where my frustration kicked in. In order to stay warm, I would usually want to move around, but I have 26.2 miles to run, so I want to stay off my feet. This means sitting down and being stagnant, which also means remaining cold.
I chose to find a place in the sun, with my back against the wind in order to stay off my feet. My marathon schedule has me participating in at least 6 marathons separated by only 2-3 weeks since Chicago, three weeks prior, so this journey is not about time but about finishing injury free. Therefore, I choose to shiver instead of stay on my feet. Experience dictates, that I will probably be standing for a period of time while waiting for the official start.
THE CORRAL
It was an hour and thirty minutes of chatting with a lot of other runners before the announcement came over that wave 1 needed to in the corrals by 8:55, so it was one last trip to the portlet, and the UPS truck before I headed to my official NYC Marathon corral.
Due to the amount of people in the corrals it was definitely a little warmer, even after I dropped a layer of clothes. I had a chance to meet another set of runners and we chatted about the cold, the route and other marathon experiences when off in the distance we heard the National Anthem being sung. This is the point where I start to get amped up a little. An association had been made in my head ever since my first race, that started my heart racing, my blood pumping and my anticubital areas start to sweat. I actually really enjoy the feeling.
THE START
As we started to move forward, I could see the first part of the wave running up the ramp of the Verzanno bridge, and my excitement just kept building and before I knew it, I crossed the starting mat and I was off and running.
I grew up in Chicago, with blisteringly cold winters and dealing with drastic changes in climate. However, after being in Florida for nine years, my blood has definitely thinned. While most of the other runners had shed their homeless charity layer of clothes, I decided to keep my hoodie and pants on a little longer. For me it was the right decision because the 35 mile-an-hour winds provided enough of a cool breeze to keep me from warming up. It also pushed me into the for wall. I was literally running in a diagonal from the speed and power of the wind. The thoughts popping into my head of the whole race feeling this cold was not boding well for my optimism.
Running off the bridge into Brooklyn, helped a lot. Buildings and underpasses blocked the wind to a point where by mile three I shed my pants and sweatshirt, so I was left with a long sleeve t-shirt, shorts, hat and gloves. At this point I was warm enough to be comfortable.
At mile four I noticed a Team RWB shirt ahead of me. Being the social creature I am, I started a conversation. Jaime, is a member of the Air Force Reserve and a civilian contractor to the Department of Defense and a good runner. We ended up keeping each other company until the last 5 miles and it made a huge difference.
Wind gusts continued to haunt us throughout the race. I knew as long as I kept running I would stay warm and keep the blood flowing through my legs.
THE MIDDLE
Around mile 15 I noticed the Queensboro bridge coming. I was warned about this portion of the race as the bridge. It is over a mile long and seems to go forever. Personally, I didn’t feel that way. Maybe because we ran on the lower portion of the bridge and it sheltered us a little from the cold and the huge welcome we received in Queens as we ran out of it. The area was packed with spectators cheering their lungs out. I couldn’t help but let a smile creep on my face. My pace quickened and the adrenaline started to kick in.
Running on First Avenue toward the Bronx held areas with different densities of spectators. It was reasonably flat until we reached the Willis Ave Bridge crossing over into the Bronx. It was not even close to being like the Queensboro or the Verzanno bridge, but it did change the elevation. Since it was at mile 20, my legs were shouting at me to stop. Honestly, I did end up walking a bit over the Madison Ave bridge. My quadriceps and hamstrings were getting extremely tight, so I ended up falling into a walk/run pattern. Nothing specific, but things were starting to hurt. 
THE FINISH
At mile 22, along 5th Ave I was just trying to run more than walk. By mile 24, as we entered Central Park, my adrenaline kicked in for the last time. No matter how much it hurt I was running until I crossed the finish line.
I started to counting down the tenths of miles and just kept running. It was not a surprise when my watch said 26.2 miles that the finish line wasn’t even in site. After 4 hours and 6 minutes of running I finally crossed the NYC Marathon finish line and received my medal. It was not my finest or fastest marathon, but I will never forget the experience.
AFTER THE FINISH
Unfortunately, my NYC Marathon journey was not over. Volunteers were quickly ushering me out of the finish area. I grabbed water,chocolate milk, a banana, swag and headed to retrieve my gear bag. It was ONLY another, what felt like, 2 miles until I found the UPS truck where my gear was stowed. This was north of the finish line and I had to go south to get back to my hotel. I was freezing. My legs were completely wrecked and though other runners were putting on warm clothes, volunteers kept ushering me out. I changed into a dry shirt and jacket before leaving the park around 86th street, only to find transportation was not readily available.
Every taxi was full, and the only way to get back downtown from the park was by rickshaw. At a cost $40 + $3 a mile? No way. I kept walking but the pain was getting really bad and I could barely bend my legs. Finally, I reached Broadway and 59th and jumped on a subway. Before I knew it I was back at the hotel and ready to take a shower.
EPILOGUE
Yet, the adventure continues. I paid $50 for an extra couple of hours in the hotel to get a shower and pack up. Unfortunately, I had already exceeded. Now my key didn’t work and I had to fight to get them to let me into the room.
Obviously, I was slow, because, well, I just ran a marathon. It wasn’t even 5 minutes, that I was back in my room, that the phone rang. It was housekeeping asking when I was going to be leaving. Even after I mentioned I paid for the extra time and received permission by the manager, I kept getting harassed. Not the finest moment for Hilton.
After 45 years of of the NYC Marathon, shouldn’t the hotels have packages for people leaving on race day? They must know the race doesn’t even start until 9:30am with the average participant taking 4 hours and 17 minutes. Lesson learned – stay until Monday. It is worth the extra money.
It was definitely, a worthwhile experience. I was happy with my performance. I met some really awesome people. Most of all, I was finally was able to run the NYC Marathon after 4 years of waiting.
Carpe Vitam!
Dopey Challenge – IronGoof or IronDope?
Flashback to 2012 when this blog and business started. I completed Ironman Florida in November of 2011 only to do the Goofy Challenge the first week in January. (Well, there were two half marathons, a 10k and a 12 mile obstacle run in between, but they didn’t contribute.) My friend Tara Belfi called me an Iron Goofy and I liked it, but because I wanted to associate it more with fun then a character I shortened it to IronGoof. This year mimicked that same experience, but with an added bonus. Instead of the Disney Goofy Challenge, which is a half-marathon on Saturday and a full marathon on Sunday, I added a 5k on Thursday and a 10k on Friday which made up the Inaugural Disney Dopey Challenge.
I have to put it out there that I personally am a fan of runDisney and the races they put on. Every athlete I have spoken to that has competed in Disney races seems to be black or white. They either love em’ or dislike em’. I personally really enjoy them. Can they still be improved upon? Sure, but not my much. The organization from expo to finish line is top notch and figuring that Disney brings in an extra 40,000+ runners for their Walt Disney Marathon Weekend it is no small feet.
I had a little issue this year. I started a job the end of November that made me a full time employee instead of contractor. It is the first time in eight years that I have been an employee and since I ended up already having to take time off, I didn’t really want to take the chance of blowing it, so I ended up doing a lot of driving back and forth the first few days. Wednesday was the only day that was open for me to pick up my Dopey packet, so I got on the Selmon Expressway right after work, took the brand new Rte 4 connector and drove directly to the ESPN Sports Complex to pick up my packet. Parking was easy with attendants, waiving their flags and lead me right to the perfect spot and then pointed me in the direction of the first building which held packet pickup. There were no lines and about 5 minutes after walking in I was walking out of the first building and on to the second building which held all the cool swag and vendor booths.
There was a quick stop at the new runDisney Instagram photo booth, but before I knew it I was walking to
the far end of the Josten Feldhouse to pick up my t-shirts and swag. The excitement was high, the environment sparked with a combination of anxiety and the magic aura that can only come from Disney. One interesting experience was after I was handed my swag bag which I looked as though it already had all of the shirts, I was told to go and pick up my 5k shirt. What? I have no idea what happened but for challenge athletes the bag had every t-shirt, which in my case was 5 of them except for the first one. Oh well, it was only an extra few minutes to grab it All of the t-shirts where Champion Tech shirts except for…yep…you guessed it, the 5k shirt. That was cotton. No biggie, you can’t have it all…right? I bumped in to a few running buddies before hanging out with some of the Fit2Run gang. A side note, I found out later that Fit2Run opened a store in Downtown Disney. How cool!
After a little bit of looking around I headed to Coronado Springs to get some dinner and some sleep. 4am was going to come extremely fast. One thing I love about runners, they are the nicest people in the world and I think we end up with a sixth sense. I wasn’t carrying anything and I was still dressed in work clothes so there was nothing to distinguish me as a runner and yet I was singled out while getting dinner by a few different people. Kate and Kathleen from Chicago whom were running with TNT, Steven and Marta from Texas and another couple of girls from DC. Each of the groups started talking to me at different times about what races they were doing on top of the normal niceties. Maybe the magic of Disney gives runners a connection boost that allows us to sense other runners. It was fun though.
Coronado put me up in one of the business cabanas, so I was provided with access to the business lounges which had breakfast and snacks as well as coffee, soft drinks, beer and wine. Not to shabby since I didn’t have to pay extra for it. I slept pretty well that night. Go figure.
I woke up easy enough and headed for the bus stop where specialty coach buses were transporting athletes and spectathletes, to and from the race site at the Epcot Center parking lot. This experience was pretty much the same for all four races. I would get off the bus, walk with a group through bag check, stopped at the Team in Training tent and heard the Mission Moment, dropped gear off at bag check and met up with whomever I was going to start with that day and headed to the corral. For the 5k it was good friend and client Hugo Scavino and training buddies Holly Tripp and Teresa Gadient. We took a few pics and took our spots in corral A.
The official training partner for the Walt Disney Marathon Weekend this year was Jeff Galloway and he was there not only with a training group but also gave words of wisdom before the 5k. I saw him a few times on the course and chatted with him. He is a really nice guy.
With all the Disney flare, each wave is started with fireworks going off above the start line and we were off. 
The weather was a balmy 50 degrees that morning so it was a great morning to run. Since it was only a 5k I ended up leaving on a long sleeve running shirt, which ended up being too warm, but I could handle it for about 25 minutes which is what I ran the 5k in with a couple of stops for pictures and a slow first mile. I had three more events to run in, so I was not going all out for any of them. I was there to have a good time and that is exactly what I did. I crossed the finish line and was given a Pluto plastic medal, which was fine because it was billed as a Family Fun Run. They didn’t want any of those kids swinging real medals around and getting hurt. Chalk another one up for Disney.
After a couple of shots with friends it was easy to find the buses and head back to Coronado Springs. After a quick shower and a shave, I headed back to Tampa and was sitting at my desk by 8:30. Easy breezy.
Too keep this post a little shorter than usual, (I know, I know, “Too Late”) the 10k, while being the 
inaugural race was basically the repeat of the 5k except double the distance, and it ended with a metal medal instead of a plastic one. One little side note, each of the races are represented by a different character. The 5k is represented by Pluto, the 10k is Minnie Mouse, the Half Marathon is Donald Duck and of course the Marathon is represented by, yes, you guessed it, Mickey Mouse. They each are at the starting line and the finish line.
After crossing the finishliine around 49 minutes, again taking time during the race for pics, I found the bus, went back to the resort, took a shower, and headed back to Tampa and at my desk by 9am.
The routine adjusted slightly when I returned back to the resort that night, because I didn’t have to drive back to Tampa, because it was going to be Saturday. Yeah baby! Of course I had another event to run in so I did not get to sleep in, but who cares right? I was at Disney surrounded by 20,000 other athletes and spectathletes. To tell you the truth I couldn’t wait.
We had dinner in Downtown Disney at Bongos surrounded by my PKD cohorts, Tara Belfi, Patti Rowland and Amy Hackford. Every year since 2010 when we ran the Disney Half-Marathon for PKD we get together at least one night. These are some amazing women. Patti took on the Dopey and crushed it. Tara and Amy challenged Goofy and made me proud.
The other really nice thing was that my coach and really good friend Amy Eck was in town from Hawaii to run the Goofy Challenge, so I would get to spend the next couple of days running with her.
The Half Marathon and Full Marathon while still the same starting routine changed slightly. While I wasput in Corral A for the 5k and 10k for the final two I was assigned Corral C. Of course, the ladies I was running with were all assigned different corrals so we ended up deciding on Corral F. Each Corral starts what seemed like 5 minutes apart from each other. This is an attempt to keep the crowding issue at bay and it does to a point. Each corral seems to have thousands of people in it, so at first it feels daunting, but it does spread out a few miles into the course.
The half marathon runs through two parks and the marathon runs through all four plus ESPN all along the course there are characters to take pictures with, DJs playing music and motivating the crowd, cheerleaders, and marching bands. For the Half Marathon Aid stations are set up about every two miles and for the marathon after the first 5 miles it is almost every single mile.
For both the races I ran with Amy, Miranda Lessie, Llex Landreth and Amy Torguson joined us for the
half. It was my first time helping to pace at a much slower time than I would usually run. While it was very enjoyable to just run for fun and encourage along the way, it was much more difficult on my body than I ever imagined. The theory of “Time on Feet” gained it’s relevance to me during the marathon. After all I did the Chicago Marathon as a training run coming in at 3:53 and I walked some of that too. Here I was coming at slightly over 5 hours. I was surprised that I was hurting slightly throughout my legs.
I will put out one small item of criticism. Cliff is the nutrition vendor at Disney. At the 8 mile mark at the half marathon the aid station had Cliff Shot gels for the runners, which was fine, but for the marathon it didn’t start until mile 11. It could be more beneficial for the runners to have the Cliff shots at least every 4 miles from the start. For newer runners, glycogen stores are heavily depleted by mile 11 and it is very hard to fill these stores but it is easy to top them off. This is really my only criticism on the direction of the event.
After we finished and took our pictures, we hung out and drank some beer, stretched and talked with some of our friends. Jeff Lessie met us there after his 3 hour finish. I felt bad for him having to wait for us for two hours. All in all it was a really great time. I did not make the mistake of just heading back to the room and taking a nap. I stretched, rolled and continued to walk a bit and I believe that helped me recover quite a bit faster. I did not feel as tight or sore on Monday when I woke up and headed back to Tampa.
I walked ran a little 5k on the treadmill at home and that cleared some of the toxins in my legs and then rolled and used my lacrosse ball for most of Monday. By Tuesday I was feeling great. Of course I know my body enough that I had to make sure I was fully recovered, so it was a very easy week. Mostly I just did my P90X3 workouts being that they are all only 30 minutes and that seemed to do the trick.
I am one to very much recommend the Disney Races. The energy in the air, the support of the crowd and especially the other runners is infectious plus it’s Disney. It makes me feel like a kid again.
CARPE VITAM!
Ironman Florida – Race Recap
For a long time, it has been called the Granddaddy of all endurance events, the Ironman triathlon. A 2.4-mile swim, 112-mile bike and a 26.2-mile run done consecutively in the same day. Of course, nowadays, double, triple, and even deca Ironman distance triathlons are becoming more and more popular, as well as 24, 48 and even 72-hour mud and obstacle run challenges. If you are calling me crazy for doing my second Ironman, I can introduce you to at least a few people who do challenges that make Ironman look like a game of hopscotch. (Yes, Matt “UltraIronBeast” Dolitsky, you are one of those.)
This competition for me was a learning experience in overcoming obstacles, most of them mental. I did not PR, or even come close, but I now understand completely the quote, “The mind will quite 100 times before the body does.”
Pre-Race
Pete Amedure, Kari Eichen, Kat Ward, Jamie Breibart and myself all decided to drive up Wednesday morning in order to get acclimated to the environment and eliminate and reasons for not being prepared for Saturday’s race. Pete, Kari and I were in my car and had a great time on the way up. Of course, there was a stop at the Huddle House in Perry Florida where we ate and laughed to a point where I spaced out and left my phone, and didn’t realize it until we were half-an-hour from Panama City Beach. It didn’t help that I was in the middle of contracts and had all my recruiters contacting me about interviews and new opportunities. (I ended up remedying this by sending FedEx to the restaurant and delivering it to our hotel. In the meantime, Google Voice was a tremendous help.)
We arrived at the Laketown Wharf complex where we stayed in a luxurious three bedroom, three bath condominium, with a beautiful view of the gulf. I give this hotel/condo complex four stars. It had everything needed including a nightly water and light show that rivals the Bellagio in Las Vegas. Well, not really, but it was a fun amenity. The condos all have a full kitchen, with dishes, glasses, silverware, pots and pans, coffee maker, and a full-size refrigerator. Everything needed for the athlete, and spectathletes, to remove all those pressures of nutrition, and early morning breakfasts. The area also has plenty of great restaurants for good eating as well.
Afterward, we walked the quarter mile to athlete check-in to receive our chip, bibs, bags, and swag. I was a little disappointed in the swag this year. Last year they gave out beautiful TYR transition backpacks, but this year it was a very inferior white backpack that looks like it will fall apart. Jamie’s actually did, so they gave her a replacement immediately. The expo was about twice the size that it was last year, with a host of new vendors. Verizon was displaying their goods, as they were the tracking sponsor this year, along with Newton, Fit2Run, a local bike shop and a bunch of the regulars. Refuel was there, talking about Chocolate Milk, so I did create a video with them talking about the benefits of it. I will share that link on Twitter when I receive it. It should be good for a couple of laughs.
After that, we spent the next couple of days, taking in the aura of Ironman, preparing and eating. Eating was a non-stop event for us. I knew from experience that immense calories were going to be needed in order to be comfortable on the course, so I encouraged our team to keep eating as I did myself.
Thursday night was the athlete welcome dinner, and I was almost embarrassed. My recollection of the 2011 athlete dinner was so wonderful, that I really talked it up and encouraged Pete, Jamie, and Kari to come. Jamie decided not to go, but I was so excited for Pete and Kari to be there I couldn’t contain my emotions. Unfortunately, I was sort of let down. It seemed unorganized and hurried. Yes, my favorite pro-triathlete and world champion Mirinda Carfrae was interviewed on stage, so that was great, but the rest of it was about charities and a couple of athletes overcoming their own obstacles. There were video presentations about a woman who was competing for her husband who died the year earlier while training, and a quadriplegic who was competing to show the world that anyone could do anything if they just challenged themselves.
Yes, their stories were inspiring but I just felt like it was too much and way too long. In 2011 the presentations were balanced between the negative and the positive inspiring stories and we even had an athlete briefing by the race director all in the span of 90 minutes. It held the attention of every athlete to a point where the announcer almost didn’t need the microphone. This time, a good portion of the athletes conversed right through all the presentations to a point where it was hard to hear the MC with a microphone. I felt like I let my friend Pete down to a point where I was apologizing so much on the walk back I became annoying. Sorry, Pete and Kari.
Friday, the anxiety hit like a ton of bricks. You couldn’t cut the tension in the condo with a Ginsu, serrated edge knife. We ate breakfast and then headed down to the beach to get in the water with our wetsuits. The waves sets were barreling to the shore with such force that the red, “no-swimming”, flag was flown, but we knew we needed to at least get in the water for a few minutes just to test out our goggles and our wetsuits. Surprising enough, even with the force of the waves, I thought I became a little more confident. I was able to stay on the surface of the water, and I practiced duck diving through the waves instead of trying to swim over them. I really thought I may have a chance of being faster out of the water than I thought.
Afterward, we talked through our transition plans to double check our gear, 
checked to make sure our bikes were ready to go and proceeded to transition to check-in everything. We had decided to try and wait out the rain, but unfortunately, I had a phone interview which had the chance of exceeding beyond the time check-in would close, so we walked down in the rain. The line was so long, I was going to be cutting it very close, so afterward, I ran back to the hotel. On the way back, I dropped my phone and cracked the screen. Yes, I had the phone back in my hands all of two hours and I dropped it. I have never broken a phone before, ever, and here I had two phone interviews and I cracked the screen. I was lucky enough that the phone still worked with voice recognition and a little effort, so the two interviews scheduled went off without any problems and I confirmed them both for second interviews as well.
That night we had a good dinner at the Wicked Wheel and we were all in bed around 9 pm ready to take on the Ironman.
Race Day
As predicted, the night before was restless but I did end up sleeping a good 4-5 hours before the alarm went off. As planned we dressed in sweats, grabbed our “Special Needs” bags, nutrition for the bike, and headed to transition around 4:30 am. We were body marked, checked our bikes, dropped our bags, and then headed back to try and leisurely eat breakfast, and dress for the race. Kari cooked eggs and turkey bacon, I cooked oatmeal and we all hung out for a while and tried to prepare ourselves with our loved ones. It was kind of surreal. I remembered these moments from the first time I competed in this race, but it still seemed like it was all new again.
We dressed, pulled on our wetsuits halfway, hugged and headed for the start line. We walked 
with Kari, Kim, and Danny down to the start, but athletes had to enter separately than spectators, so when we finally hit the beach we couldn’t find them. I really wanted to see them all before the start, but I knew I would be ok if I didn’t, but Kari had Pete’s goggles in her bag, so now it became imperative that we find them. We walked over trying to find them, so when it came to a point where we had no time left, we dropped our stuff and proceeded to button up our wetsuits and prepare to go under the arch. It was at that moment, our party found us. Talk about cutting it close. We hugged, gut our well wishes, wished each other luck and headed into the mass of athletes preparing for the start.
This year was a little different as signs were being held up with expected times for the swim. It could be compared to pace groups commonly found in road races except instead of going deep from a start line this went wide along the shore with the idea that if the slower swimmers would be the widest from the buoys and would fall in behind the faster ones. This was thought to bring down the chaos of a mass swim start, but for me, it was worse. I have been in comparable rough water, hit, kicked and swam over before and I always kept on swimming no matter what, but this time I was kicked so many times with the last time throwing my goggles from my face. It took me a few minutes to find them floating away from me, but I was able to put them back without too much trouble.
When I finished my first loop, the clock said 1:11 which was very slow. I thought I should be able to make up at least three minutes on the second loop, so I shouldn’t be in any danger of not making the 2:20 cutoff. I found a rhythm and just kept swimming, but I veered to the left of buoys and to keep correcting my course. When I made the turn for the straightaway to the swim finish, I glanced at my wrist to check my Garmin to see how much time I had left, and it was gone. Not only could I not find out what I needed to cross the swim finish, I wasn’t going to know how fast I would bike, or run. I wouldn’t know when to take my nutrition or even what time it was.
Three buoys from the end I ended up with a paddle boarder on the left of me and jet ski on the right. The paddleboarder kept yelling the time I had left. “You have 8 minutes. You got this just keep going.” I have to admit, the idea of a DNF crossed my mind and it did not scare me. I thought to myself “would it really be the end o the world.” I would be able to support Pete, Jamie, and Kat and I wouldn’t have to worry about biking 112 miles, chafing, nutrition, none of it. Of course, I wouldn’t get to cross that finish line and I would feel like a failure and that is what really scared me. It wasn’t the disappointment of my friends or even my family, it was the disappointment I would have in myself. That never-ending coulda, woulda, shoulda would really haunt me, so I sped up and went as hard as I could. The waves after the sandbar helped and even though I got caught up in the rope tied to one of the lifeguard’s flotation device I was able to hit the beach at exactly 2:20 getting me over the timing mat at 2:20:08.
I don’t mind stating that I was exhausted. I have stated it time and time again, that I am not even a good swimmer, but this really put it in perspective.
I ran into transition and the volunteers stated I had eight minutes to cross the bike mat, so they hurried me into my bib and jersey I was using for the bike, put on my helmet and shoes and rushed me out into transition to grab my bike. I crossed and headed out on my 112-mile journey.
My lungs were screaming and my stomach was churning, but I just kept going. I
passed the mile 10 marker and about, what I estimate was around the 12-13 mile mark, nausea started. I pulled over to the side of the road and vomited sea water over the guardrail. Unfortunately, I have what is called a vasovagal response to vomiting, which basically means I pass out cold. I woke up, splayed out on the side of the road with the sun shining in my eyes. It took a while to get my wits and balance in order to get back on my bike. I continued slowly with the thoughts of turning around and just ending it. Who would blame me? I became sick on the bike, no one would care. With my stomach still churning and my head spinning I decided I would go to the twenty-mile marker and if I didn’t feel better I would turn around. The earlier thoughts I had of a DNF plagued me again and when I saw the 20-mile sign, I was still feeling sick, but better than I did. I took in some of the Isagenix mix I had in my bottles and decided to go on to the next marker, but it wasn’t more than a mile later I realized that if I turned around at the 30 mile mark, I would have biked 60 miles by the time I got back to the start. That’s when I knew I had it in me. It no longer was about time now it was about finishing.
From that point on the bike ended up being uneventful. Sure, there were minor challenges. For instance, the wind picked up quite a bit, and of course, I still had no perception of time, except for when I asked, but I just put my head down and kept going.
Here is a little lesson learned while I was on the bike. As I mentioned the wind became a challenge during the bike, but I decided to wear an aero helmet and while I was in aero position and looked down, the wind became a little less a factor. I found myself being able to pick up a higher cadence. The minute I looked straight I could not only hear the wind, but I felt like someone had hit the breaks on my bike. Every article and person always said, one way and the cheapest way to become more aero was a helmet. They were right.
Being the last one out of the water did have one advantage. I wasn’t going to get passed. I was doing all the passing, and with each rider I passed, I felt a little bit of mental boost which helped a great deal. I rolled into transition in a little over 7 hours, which, in my estimation, had me on the side of the road for a little over 30 minutes. All-in-all it wasn’t actually that bad.
A volunteer grabbed my bike, I snatched my run gear bag and was greeted in the changing room by my friend, and client, Hugo Scavino. He helped me rid myself of the bib and bike jersey and don my shoes and hat. After a huge hug, I headed off onto the run course. I stopped briefly for words of encouragement, hugs and kisses from Kim, Kari, Maria and Anne, and off onto the course I went. I walked for about a quarter mile before I started running. I was kind of amazed. I felt like I was able to transition to my running legs a little easier than the Augusta 70.3 I competed in six weeks earlier. I hit the first aid station in about 1.5 miles and I was feeling pretty good. I formulated my plan of running from aid station to aid station and just walking while I was getting water and nutrition. This worked for the first loop.
Pete and Jaime passed me at my mile 3 and their mile 10 and we shook hands and I motivated Pete with warning him I should not be able to catch him. Of course in the back of my mind, I was questioning if I could somehow make up 7 miles on him. Dave Nardoski caught up with me on his second loop, so I walked and chatted with him for a few minutes before I picked up the pace again. At mile 6 I saw Kat looking really strong and I yelled some encouragement to her as I passed. The halfway point for the first loop is in a park and I was feeling pretty good. I started doing the math in my head for what it would take to catch up to Pete and Jamie. The idea of the three of crossing together seemed surreal but possibly realistic. At mile 10 I saw Jamie and she had picked up the pace from Pete, and she looked really good. Obviously, the three of us crossing was most likely not going to happen unless I could really pick up some speed and Pete and I could catch her. A little while later I saw Pete again walking. We stopped for a minute and he told me that everything hurt. I gave him some encouragement and we parted. Just prior to the turnaround I found myself running next to Lew Hollander. Lew, is an 83-year-old, twenty-time Kona qualifier and finisher. He is extremely inspiring and is the epitome of the idea that age doesn’t have to be an excuse. We chatted briefly, he gave me some motivation, I congratulated him, he ran into the finisher chute and I made the turn. Kim and Danny were on the other side of the turn, so I was able to see them and get some love and hugs from Kim. She actually ran a little bit with me before I headed off.
I was hurting now. At mile 14 I slowed to a walk. My feet were screaming in agony, my hips, quads, hamstrings and IT bands were in a lot of pain and I started getting a twinge in my back. I didn’t want to walk, but my legs were not letting me run either. I decided I would walk to the aid station of after mile 15 and continue from there. It didn’t happen the way I wanted. I ended up doing a series of run/walk intervals all the way to mile 18 where Pete and I crossed for the last time. We high-fived each other and continued on. Not too far ahead I stopped to use a portlet, but when I exited I became turned around and stupidly started running in the wrong direction. I caught myself about a half mile before I realized what I was doing and quickly did a one-eighty. I guess I was meant to run even more than a marathon this time.
I did meet Susan, a member of the Sarasota Storm Tri Club, which I have participated in races and training with. We chatted and played cat and mouse for a while. Susan had a very steady pace, so I would catch her and then when I would walk she would pass me. This happened about 3 or 4 times throughout the marathon portion. After getting completing the out-and-back in the park to head to the finish I started to feel like I just was about done with this whole thing. I was walking more than running, I was in pain and I was just ready for this experience to end. When I saw mile 20, I thought I only have a 10k left. I could do a 10k in my sleep. I started to pick up the pace just a bit. I walked through the aid station in between 20 and 21 and started talking to myself. “C’mon legs. Just one more training run. I need ya. Relax. Use gravity as momentum. We can do this.”
Ahead was mile marker 21, and it was then when I decided, there will be no more stops at aid stations, there will be no more walking. It was time to get this done. I picked up the pace and never looked back. I caught up with Susan at mile 22 and I told her to come with me. This was just a 5k with a one-mile warm-up. She said something that really motivated me. “You are really strong, Brad.” Who was she trying to kid? It wasn’t 12 hours ago I had thoughts of quitting. I didn’t quit though and here I was 4 miles from the finish of my second Ironman. I picked up the pace even more to a point where I was running at a sub 8:30 pace for a bit. I was in a lot of pain, but it was going to be worse if I stopped. Every time I passed another athlete or spectator they would say “Good job” and that just fueled me. A couple of the spectators would yell, “Awesome pace keep it up!” I ran through the Tri Club village at 25 when someone yelled “Go Goof GO!”, so I even picked up the pace even more. When I finally reached the chute there were two people running together in front of me and I didn’t know whether to let them go ahead or pass them. I passed them and sped up even more in order to make sure I was alone at the finish line.
I saw the finish line and didn’t even look at the clock. After all, I hadn’t known what time it was up to that point, so what did it matter now. The announcer bellowed, “Brad Minus from Tampa Bay, YOU ARE AN IRONMAN!” Oh, how sweet that sounded. Especially after being kicked, and hit in the water, losing my goggles and Garmin, vomiting and blacking out on the side of the road, and running through all that pain. I finally reached the finish.
A volunteer escorted me to Yvonne Van Vlerken, the women’s first-place finisher, who placed the medal around my neck. We congratulated each other and she gave me a hug, and then I continued with my handler to get a shiny warming sheath, and a finish photo before she handed me off to Kim, Maria, Jamie and the Dannys. I saw Pete sitting down and we just looked at each other with pain on our faces but pride in our eyes.
The rest of the night consisted of pizza and hard cider and regaling stories of the race. PB&J had accomplished what we set out to do a year earlier.
Jamie was the heroine of the night. When she decided to run she end up fast enough to finish with a 13:50. I am still so proud of her. Pete ended up a little under 15 and I ended up with a 15:09. I am not happy with it. It is significantly longer than 2011, but I finished and everything considered, I did have fun. That is what matters most.
Thank you to all who tracked and reported on Facebook, for all the prayers, thoughts, motivation and kudos, Anne, Kari, Maria, Hugo and all the other voluneteers, Kim for supporting me and especially to Pete, Jamie, & Kat for being my training buddies through this journey.
Carpe Viam!
The New York City Triathlon – Race Report
If you are following on Twitter and Facebook, then you have seen the posts regarding certain developments that have taken place. I didn’t want anything to sully my race reporting because it was really a fantastic race, so I held off a bit so I could cool my jets. More on those developments later, but first let me bring you through race day.
I woke up early, groggy and already making note that I really need to be more responsible when it comes to race prep. I didn’t really gain a lot of good sleep over the last two nights with all the excitement of seeing my friends and being in my favorite city.
My normal ritual took place; fuel up, double-check my race bags, dawn my tri kit, apply the race tats, and head on down to transition. Even though it was still dark at 5:15am, it was warm with just a slight breeze coming off the Hudson. As I mentioned in my recent post, the only bags allowed into transition were these drawstring plastic bags, but my regular transition bag was allowed, empty and inside the transparent ones. I kept thinking about carrying them to transition and then, of course later, out of transition, I put the plastic ones in my personal transition backpack on the way to transition and when I arrived I removed them and dropped my backpack in the plastic bags until after the race. This later turned out to be a smart move.
Transition was already crowded with athletes all jazzed up for the race. I was lucky to have the end
of the row so I had plenty of room for my gear. Commercial, outside lights on generators, gave us plenty of illumination to set up our own transition areas. I have been getting better and better about my transition area and only bringing in what is needed and not what I think I may need, therefore making my setup easier and faster. I have yet to leave anything behind that is actually needed. (Knock on wood.) After making sure that everything was ready to go, I knew I still had a mile or so to walk to get to the start, and it was getting warmer. Donning my wet suit at this point whether I put it on halfway or not would be a mistake so I through it over my shoulder and started walking up the path to the swim start which was around 110th St and the West Side Highway.
It was nice to start seeing the sunrise and chit-chat with some athletes both experienced and not. I do not really like to mention that I have completed an Ironman, but it does come up sometimes. I was reminded on this occasion why I don’t. Upon completing an Ironman distance triathlon, there is a level of expertise and speed assumed. These assumptions occur only from those who have not completed one, because those that have, understand that it can be just as slow as any other distance. I, of course, fall into that slow category. I met a newer triathlete whom was competing in her first Olympic triathlon whom automatically assumed I was a pro because I finished an IM. Even though I gave her the whole scoop of finishing pretty slow, I believe she thought I was being modest, but it met for good conversation. We parted at the corrals at the swim start while she met up with her friends and I stepped off to take off my shoes, drop them into the clothing bag provided, which was taken one of 10 trucks to be available at the finish. I halfway, put my wet suit on and headed into my corral.
The start was a time trial start which was actually pretty nice. They lined about thirty of us up on the edge of a pier and every twenty seconds would send us off. It kept the waves from bunching up during the swim. When it was my turn, with the butterflies in my stomach, I stepped forward like I was about to walk the plank, and waited for the count down. I heard the beep of my timing chip hit the timing mat, the announcer counting from ten and at one I stepped off into the 75 degree filth..uh…I mean water, of the Hudson River.
By now you must know, that of the three events I am not as fond of the swim as I am of the bike and run, but this one wasn’t so bad. Why? The NYC Tri, is definitely a non-swimmers triathlon. The current was incredibly fast. It made 
the Augusta Ironman 70.3 seem like there was no current at all. I surmise that if I would have just put my arms and floated I could have made it through the whole 1500 meters in around 35-40 minutes. Instead, I decided to swim a little and I made it in 22 minutes. WooHoo! Swim PR for me.
T-1 was around 800 meters from the swim finish so I ran and was feeling pretty good, until I stopped paying attention and ran into the bike out and had to get detoured around the outside of transition. What a goofball. I guess that goes without saying. Anyway, between that and struggling to get my wet suit off, I just about ate up the time I gained on the swim.
One thing the previous day’s race briefing was adamant about was to leave the bike in a higher gear in transition because of a sizable incline at the very start of the bike and this they were not kidding about. I must have passed six or seven people on that hill and I am from Florida. I don’t even know what a hill looks like. I did find out though.
The bike course starts at 79th st and runs up the West Side Highway into the 
Bronx to the George Washington Bridge and then turns around and comes back south to 57th street where it then does another U-turn and heads back to transition. Pete had mentioned it was a little hilly, but I thought I would be ok with the training rides we had completed in San Antonio. Well, no such luck. It was not that the hills were steep, they weren’t that bad, but they were long. That is where I came into trouble. I was averaging a pretty good pace going up to the Bronx until we started this amazing decline. I was coasting at 30+ mph for what seemed like forever. At first I was thinking, “this is great. I can make up some time.”, but the more I kept going without pedaling I realized, I was going to have to actually pedal back up that monster. What didn’t help was the fact that there were a few hills on the way to the GW Bridge and then I was going to have to turn around and go up that monster. When I did, I lost all momentum and literally was in a crawl on the way up and when I did finally make it, I was exhausted so I couldn’t get my speed up for a few miles. It sounds negative, but it was kind of fun.
When I arrived in T-2, I had recovered from that monster hill and was moving pretty good. I made it out of transition as expected and ran across Manhattan into Central Park. What a fun run course! It was full of spectators cheering like crazy, plenty of aid stations and volunteers. It had some shade since the temperature had increased into the mid 80’s, so I could feel a nice difference and pick-me-up when I dumped water over my head.
As of yet I didn’t mention that I debuted my new IronGoof Tri Kit at this race. While I didn’t hear anyone mention anything on the walk to the swim, or on the bike (probably because I was just a blur….LOL), on the run it seemed like everyone was noticing my logo. Ever few spectators and/or volunteers I passed someone would yell “Go Goof!” or “You got this Iron Goof!” It was really amazing. I did hear a couple of people laugh, snickering “Iron…..Goo….Goof? Is that what it said? IronGoof?” Whether or not they remember the website afterward, doesn’t really matter, but it was nice to hear and was very amusing and motivating.
Overall the run was tough, but again a lot of fun. I ran into the finish shoot 
feeling drained, but exhilarated. They handed me the medal, a pair of Aquaphor flip-flops, a towel and some water all the while moving us to the finish activities. I was excited to have completed it, but there was something missing. Even though I had met some very interesting people during the experience, they had their own support crew there. I didn’t really have anyone. Sure, I had people come up to me while I walked around asking how I did, and what the story behind the Iron Goof, but on the whole there was no one there to share it with. It made me remember one of the best things about completing these challenges. It’s the bonds we share in training and in competition. While it was fun, it was also a little depressing. I like the feeling of sharing my experiences with my friends. I like heading to the finish line afterwards and waiting on others to finish and cheering them on. Heck, I even enjoy being a spectathlete and being at a race just to cheer others on. I am not saying that I won’t do another race without having friends there, but it sure does make the experience more enjoyable.
I had a limited amount of time after I finished because I was flying out that night. I couldn’t retrieve my bike and gear from transition for almost two hours, so I received a foot massage, tried some “healthy” ice cream called Eatenlightened, which was awesome by the way, and headed back to the hotel to shower and pack before retrieving my bike. It was perfect that Hotel Belleclaire was positioned equidistant from the finish line and transition. When I compete in this triathlon again, I hope have a return stay there as well.
After a long shower and packing up my suitcase, I headed over to transition and grabbed my bike and gear. As, I watched the majority of competitors try to balance their plastic bag on their bikes while going up the hill to their cars and cabs, I was comfortably riding my bike with my transition bag on my back. I was very happy I figured that out early. After the short ride back to the hotel, I pulled out the bike stem, dropped the aero bars, and took off the front wheel. I then packed the bike back in the box, secured the bike stem and saddle to the box, packed and secured the race wheels, taped the box back up, and secured the FedEx slip to the top. My bike and I were ready to head home.
I called FedEx to give them the info for the pick-up, notified the front desk (whom were more than accommodating to make sure that it would get where it needed to go), and hailed a cab home. From there on out it was uneventful. Monday afternoon I checked my tracking number online and saw that my bike had been picked up from the hotel as expected. I logged on and checked again the next day where the tracking info stated it had left the FedEx Brooklyn location. It wasn’t until Wednesday when I loaded up the website that I noticed something peculiar. The tracking had stopped. I expected to see another scan somewhere between Brooklyn and Tampa but there wasn’t, but it did state it was expected to be at my home on Thursday. When it didn’t show up I started to get a little concerned, therefore on Friday I called and had a trace put on it. Monday when I called back, due to the fact I had not received the promised communication, I was told that it was nowhere to be found but they were looking. I was dumbfounded. I had no idea how a package that big could get lost.
To make a long story short. It still has not been found, and due to a weird typo in the declared value versus insurance purchased fields in the online form, FedEx is fighting paying me the amount needed to purchase another bike. At this point Misty is gone. I will continue to converse with FedEx in the hopes they either find her or they reimburse me, but at this point I have no idea what is going to happen.
It is too bad something like that has to dampen a great experience. I would highly recommend the New York City Triathlon to anyone to include first-timers. It was a fantastic course, that was well supported by the public and the corporate vendors. I would just take your bike with you.
Carpe Viam!
The New York City Triathlon – Before the race
Traveling for races is always exciting, but the opportunity to race in my favorite city in the world, caused an overwhelming explosion of emotions that may have actually hindered me. I will explain that last part a bit later, but let me start from the beginning.
In order to race in the NYC Triathlon from out-of-state, a lottery is performed and in February of this year I was notified that I had been chosen to race. At the time I was not quite sure about it, as my race schedule was already pretty full, but I had heard great things about the race, so I decided to go ahead and put it on the calendar. How many times was I going to be chosen via a lottery…right? I have entered the lottery for the NYC Marathon for the last 3 years and was never chosen, therefore I felt like this may be a one-time opportunity. I made my arrangements immediately, and found some inexpensive accommodations at Hotel Belleclaire which ended up to be a very nice boutique hotel on the upper west side of Manhattan, beautifully positioned directly between transition and the finish line.
The challenge I had was, how do I transport my bike to NYC. I had a few choices.
1) Tri-bike Transport which was $300 each way.
2) Take my bike completely apart and take it with me, then take it to a bike shop to be put back together for $75 and again when I returned, not to mention possible oversize luggage fees at anywhere from 75-150 bucks.
3) Use shipbikes.com and buy a reusable AirCaddy for $100 and then ship my bike via FedEx, directly to my hotel and back home for $100 each way with very minimal dis-assembly of my bike.
I chose option 3, which turned out to be very convenient. The Air Caddy came in a very flat box and was assembled in 10 minutes and my bike was then placed in the box within 5 minutes and ready to ship. It comes with a fork plate that stabilizes the bike in the box and then a series of other corrugated cardboard is placed around the bike which secures and stabilizes it even more. The only small adjustments that need to be made are to remove the saddle and seat post together, and fold down the aero bars. Each is just the loosening of two allen screws. I only had to bring my small bike tool with me in order to tighten them back up upon re-assembly. I taped up the box, added the label which is purchased through shipbikes.com and then called for a FedEx delivery representative to come by and pick it up. Easy breezy. It all happened like clockwork. Of course since this is the first time I was shipping my bike I was a little anxious, and I was going to be, until I re-assembled in NYC.
I left Friday Morning two days before the race and was so excited I could barely contain myself. Not just for the fact I had the opportunity to race in my favorite city I have ever been to, but I was also going to spend some time with friends I hadn’t hung out with in what seemed like forever.
All of the pics online of Hotel Belleclaire were of course beautiful, but in New York City it is sometimes a crap shoot. The marketing pics look great, but when you get there, sometimes you get a room that a little worse for wear. Hotel Belleclaire was absolutely beautiful and the service was first-rate. I was in my room for about 30 minutes when the front desk called just to ask if everything in the room was alright. I was a little shocked because I never experienced that before. It is such a simple concept to give a 30 second call to the guests and it made me feel kind of special. Before I knew it, there was a knock at my door and there was a bellman with my bike. Talk about service. After I put my bike together I phoned the front desk and requested that they store the box since the room was small. I didn’t really care about the size of the room since it was just me, but the box and my bike took up a little more room. It turned out that they could not find anywhere to store the box, so instead of just saying “Sorry, we cannot do anything about it”, they upgraded me and put me in a larger room to accommodate the box. That, was to me, an amazing touch. On Sunday after the race, I boxed up the bike and the concierge told me to just leave it in my room. Monday morning I received a text from FedEx notifying me my bike was picked up and that the estimated date she would be back home was Thursday. If you are going to be in NYC on the upper west side, I highly recommend the Hotel Belleclaire. I think you will enjoy it.
Now back to our regularly scheduled program(after my little endorsement).
After I checked in I planned on going to the expo at Hilton Midtown, so I started walking. The hotel was on
77th St. and Broadway and the Hilton was on 55th and 6th so it was 22 blocks south and two blocks east. No big deal, and it was nice outside so I decided to walk. Here is where I started with a little hinderance. I saw my favorite hot dog place in Manhattan. Grays Papaya. OMG! Now remember that I am about 90% paleo and I haven’t digested a slice of bread in over a year, so you can imagine how my system was going to react to a couple of white flour, processed, buns with grilled hot dogs and all the trimmings. They sure tasted good going down, however they left me in a lurch later that evening. Grays Papaya is famous in the city for their hot dogs and papaya drink. I had both and they were sooo good. It was like a sin to eat something that tasted that good as processed as it was. I always talk about balance right? Well, I figured I hadn’t had one in so long, it wouldn’t hurt. WRONG!!!! I will spare you the details of what happened a couple of hours later.
Inside the Host Hotel. I just had to take a pic.
I called a good friend of mine, Michael who moved to the city almost four years ago. Michael and I used to to perform in plays and musicals together semi-professionally. Michael was keeping the dream alive in New York while I turned to health and fitness. To my surprise he was willing to go to the expo with me so I could check-in. The New York Triathlon required the attendance of all the athletes at a mandatory meeting in order to verify everyone had the information in the Athlete Handbook. In order to get your packet you had to attend a meeting and get your hand stamped. Because I had been to so many races prior and never usually went to the meetings, that I would be a little annoyed but the person whom MC’ed the meeting was hilarious and had us all in stitches. He also was great about getting the info out specifically and succinctly, so all of us whom attended could have our hand stamped and out of there in about 25 minutes. The rest of check-in was a breeze.
The expo was, well…interesting. Mainly because I was in a different part of the US, it had different vendors. What I did notice was that Zicco Coconut Water was a huge sponsor. They were giving out coconut water like it was, uh…water. Even in our SWAG there was one of those huge liter bottles that usually sell for around $9. I love Zicco so I was beyond freaking thrilled. The only unfortunate thing was that they only were giving the original version and I know that the chocolate flavor is amazing, but I enjoy the natural flavor too. The rest of the expo was what you would expect of a triathlon which is minimal compared to marathon’s and big road races, but it still had that great race aura and energy.
Michael and I hung out for a bit and caught up and then headed to Restaurant 44th&10th which is located, can you guess? You are correct. 44th st and 10 Ave just about 20 more blocks from the hotel. The place is a corner of a set of stores and is decked out in white with colors used as accents on the walls and cushions of the chairs. The food was amazing. I had the grilled tilapia with steamed spinach and a sweet potato, butternut squash mash. Deliciouso! For desert was a dark chocolate flour-less cake which tasted more like mouse, and an organic banana sundae. WOW! It was an outburst of flavors that stimulated my taste buds with the cool essence of banana, chocolate and toasted marshmallow. O-M-G was it good!
Now all fat and happy, Michael and I headed off to my hotel, so I could drop off all the swag from the expo and that, ladies and gentlemen, is when Grays Papaya decided to fight for control of my digestive system away from my incredible food from 44th&10th. That is all I have to say about that. Needless to say after a couple of syndicated comedies, conversations about theatre in the city and dealing with my stomach I wasn’t going anywhere else that night.
I woke up Saturday feeling a lot better. I took a shower, put together everything I needed for transition, 
which didn’t open until 2 pm, and headed out into the city. Around 1 pm I stopped at my favorite pizza place. The restaurant will remain, forever, a planned event whenever I am in NYC. The place with the best pizza on the planet. John’s Pizza on 44th St between 7th an 8th avenues. This place has the absolute best pizza with all natural ingredients I have ever tasted. The thinnest flakiest crust with a spicy tomato sauce, mozzarella that strings to ceiling if you let it and the best ingredients ever resting on top. Personally, I am a minimalist so I prefer a nice pepperoni and fresh garlic, but my friend Jorge Acosta whom joined me for this amazing meal, was all about the pineapple and Canadian Bacon. I never tried it, but I have to say it was pretty good too.
This part of 44th st is a kind of home to me. It is where all the best theatres are located. Across from John’s , Phantom was playing. Directly next door, Let it Be. A little further down and across the street was Lucky Guy with Tom Hanks and two doors down was the famous Sardis of which Jorge and I headed to afterward to continue catching up. Jorge is one of those guys who has had such an amazing life that we can just talk forever. If I wasn’t participating in the triathlon the next day, we would probably still be talking. He is an amazing and talented guy and I am so excited he is making it in NYC as an actor. Knock on wood, he hasn’t needed another job to get him by. That is how talented this guy really is.
I left Jorge and headed back to the hotel to grab my bike and head to transition in Riverside Park. There are
two transition setups for the NYC Tri. Yellow and Red. My wave was in the Yellow which was schedulted to start at 5:50 am on Sunday and included the pros and elites along with half the Age Group athletes, while red didn’t start until 7:20. The transition setup was just like any other triathlon, no
frills with metal rods to hang the bike from the seat. The only somewhat different protocol was the transparent bags that were handed out and highlighted during the mandatory meeting. This was new after the incident
at the Boston Marathon. Instead of bringing in a transition backpack like I usually do, now a plastic transparent bag is the only thing allowed to bring gear into the transition area. I didn’t want to leave anything besides my bike, so I personally didn’t bring anything at this point but my bike. I left my bike with a plastic bag covering the handlebars and seat and headed out to meet another friend of mine from high school, Kyle.
Kyle, a professional Opera singer, is just as interesting. He had just opened a show, so we were able to meet just outside of Lincoln Center for a bit before he needed to be at the theatre. Kyle has an amazing wife, Laura and an eleven year-old prodigy daughter. A prodigy in what? It would probably be easier to tell you what she is NOT a prodigy in . She is incredibly smart as well as an Olympic swimmer in the making. Maybe I can get lessons from her? Kyle and I talked for an hour about his shows, my races, Alana’s talent and Laura’s singing as well. When it was time to head out Kyle said something to me that made me so proud. He started with, “I know you will probably taught this but Laura and started doing this ‘Insanity’ workout and I feel better, taller and stronger than I have ever been.” I praised him, because I use the Insanity workouts and I am a Beach Body coach. I was so excited to hear about his and Laura’s results. He went on to tell me about how everything was better. He was singing even better, he felt taller, slept better and was craving the workouts. It made me smile when I heard about it. Right here was proof, that with a child that needed to be brought to school, activities, swim practice, his daytime rehearsals, night-time performances, and Laura’s full-time job, they both still found time to workout six days a week. Remember that living in New York City means taking even more time for transportation as well. There are very few people that are as busy as Kyle and Laura and they still find time, six days a week. No excuses. I love it.
That finished my day. I went back to the room, took a shower and fell into bed exhausted. I know it would feel like no time at all, before the 3 am alarm would go off and my phone would remind me again at 3:10. I would try, but I wouldn’t get as much sleep as I wanted.
My room prior to the move.