(Edited by Brad Minus) The Decision My 3 years of running experience started with multiple injuries including a couple of ankle fractures. However, I still managed to complete a marathon, a 50K and...
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.”
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.
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.
Gasparilla Goof: A Recap
Since I have been an endurance athlete in the Tampa Bay Area for a few years, I have always felt a pull toward the Gasparilla Distance Classic. This last weekend was no different. I had the intention of possibly hanging out on the sidelines this year, but the attraction of the race and the fact that all of my racing “peeps” would be there, lured me to enter the Becks Light Challenge which consisted of the 15K, the 5k and the ever loved Half Marathon. There is another level to the challenges named the Michelob Ultra Challenge which includes all of the races in Becks Light Challenge plus the 8k, but I know myself well enough that after a half marathon the last thing I was going to want to do was run another 5 miles so I decided against it this year. Maybe next year.
The expo was pretty much the same as it always is. I enjoy being around it, and seeing my fellow running buddies, getting some samples, seeing the new shoes that are out and tasting the new products. Unfortunately, I was a little late this year, so I didn’t have the allotted time I would usually, but I did spend some time with Pearl Izumi rep, Kyle, and tried on their new product, The E:Motion Tri. Kyle mentioned it had only been available for five days at that point and after a little schmoozing I think I may have finagled a pair, of which I will review at a different time.
The race included over 27,000 entries this year, and with muli-race entries the estimates stated there were about 23,000 unique entries, which I consider to be an amazing turnout. I was pretty excited to be participating the next day, however I let the energy of the social part of running get the better of me and I did not eat very well that day or that night. I ended up paying for it the next day.
I woke up at 4:30a and took care of morning routines and ate a banana with almond butter which is usually all I need for a workout that is only 9.3 miles. Jumped in the car and headed off to the race. I found a nice spot, behind Publix and since they were sponsoring the event I didn’t think they would mind. It was a nice little hike to the start line from there, so it was perfect to warm-up and get the blood moving. I had plenty of time, so I hung with Dawn Peters, and saw a few others in the corrals while I was continuing to warm up a more thoroughly. Peculiar thing I didn’t mention earlier. In Tampa, there was a power outage in the water treatment plant because a squirrel chewed through the lines. This caused a water distress warning for all of the areas that received their water from the City of Tampa for 72 hours. We were told to drink bottled water or boil our water before drinking it. The announcer was assuring us, the water served was bottled from Zepherhills and the mixed Gatorade also used the bottled water. I caught myself wondering how much of the water, I used to brush my teeth with, made it into my system.
There was a great rendition of our national anthem sung acapella followed by the blast of the start horn.
I started feeling really good and I was charging hard at about 7:31 pace as I hit miles 1, 2 and 3. My legs were fine, my breath was under control and I just kept saying to myself; “Self, you know you have another 5k you have to do today followed by a half-marathon tomorrow don’t you?”, but the energy of the race ran away with me (pardon the pun).
At mile 4 I started to slow down and at mile 5 my whole race fell apart. Here I was, on my own training ground, turning the corner and heading for home, and I felt dizzy, my legs were not feeling great, and I was slowing to a crawl. I walked for a bit, trying to clear the toxins the lactic acid was ridding my muscles of, and motivate myself to finish this thing. I couldn’t believe I was falling apart this early. Just two weeks prior I slowed but at the 9 mile mark, so I thought I would at least be able to get through this race and shuffle through the 5k, but here I was at mile 5 and completely crashing. I kept saying to myself “The mind will quit 10 times before the body does. This is not your body, you goof, this is your mind.” I started again, with the expectation to keep running no matter how slow and just finish. Athletes, that I run with at track that are in groups below me started to pass. My friend Rich, whom has been just lifting and bulking up past me with a motivational pat on the shoulder. I couldn’t believe this was happening. I checked my posture, looked at my placement, leaned into a comfortable position and picked up my cadence, allowing for maximum efficiency and pushed on with everything I had left. At the 9 mile mark, as is tradition, I put everything I had in the last third-of-a-mile and sprinted across the line. I literally felt like I had nothing left.
I took pictures with the pretty pirates and was lucky enough to see a few of my clients whom were running the 5k about an hour later. I was so drained I was seriously contemplating just cutting out of the 5k altogether, but that little jingle went off in my head. It actually used to be an old Hefty Bag commercial that started with a little squeaky infantile voice; “Wimpy, Wimpy Wimpy.” Of course the actual commercial continues with a loud, strong, low and bold voice; “Hefty Hefty Hefty!”, but that part was missing in my head. I decided that 3 miles was not a big deal as long as I can get some fuel up a little, so I journeyed on to find some food.
This was the only disappointing portion of the Gasparilla Distance Weekend. Every other year I have participated in this race the vendors are lined up in the tunnel with fruit, beverages, smoothies, rice and beans, sandwiches bagels the works, but this year it was cut to bananas, fruit cups, granola bars and sample smoothies. I was a little disappointed, but I ate a couple of bananas, gulped a couple of smoothies, headed back to the start line.
As my readers know, I am not the fastest runner by any means, but usually fast enough to be in the front corral. This year because I really wasn’t feeling it, I put myself in the middle of the front corral. What I didn’t realize, was because there were only two corrals, the 9am and the 9:45a, there were a lot more people. After another rendition of our national anthem, which was just as good as earlier, the horn blew and we were off. Again. Or, so it seemed because even though I crossed over the start mat I was still walking. 19,000 runners in-between the two corrals, and here I was in the middle of the first one. After 400 meters I heard the announcer mention that five minutes had gone by since the start. I heard my own voice cry out, “What? Five minutes? Already?” Embarrassingly enough, I was talking to myself. I started weaving through the crowd the best I could and finally around the half way point it opened up enough to get some speed going. I was still spent, but the food I consumed filled my glycogen levels enough to finish the race. My time was a dismal 26 minutes and change, but I was happy I did it.
After the race- Saturday
After completing the ritualistic medal photos, walking, stretching, and chatting I caught up with Rich O’Dea and we headed to Four Green Fields for a couple of beers. Everyone I knew was there, so the place was hoppin’. The Tues-Thursday Starbucks run peeps were there, Progressive Run, Four Green Fields, A-Train, Shark runners, and of course Mrs. Jessica Glover behind the bar on deck. She was incredibly busy but smiling and gabbing away. I chatted for a while, met some new runners, saw some old friends like Malynn Nguyen who I haven’t seen since the 2011 Ironman, and just basically hung out and had a great time. It was a nice ending to a couple of difficult races for me.
I realized that I in no way was I talking myself out of running the Half Marathon the next day, so I devised a strategy on the way home. I needed a way to fuel and feel as fresh as possible, so I stopped on the way home and grabbed a couple of bags of ice. What for? An ice bath. I never actually indulged in an ice bath, but I have read over and over the advantages to them, one of them being rapid recovery and that, is what I needed in order to get through the next day. When I arrived home I grabbed a Coke, which would help top off my glycogen levels, ate some chicken breast and broccoli, and headed for my ice bath. Since I never actually took one of these before I knew that it would be torture if I just filled the tub with ice and water and jumped in, so I ran some barely luke warm water and got in. Slowly, I moved the water to cold and it rose above my legs and found myself getting used to the temperature. I then slowly started adding ice, and the temperature started to drop a little more rapidly, but not so much where it became too uncomfortable. I dropped the last bag of ice in and waited my 20 minutes. I have to say, it wasn’t that bad, since I allowed my body to acclimate. I am not saying it was comfortable, the ice remained frozen after all, and it was touching my skin, but I could handle it. After 20 minutes I jumped out and into a hot shower which was absolute heaven. I assessed how I felt and noticed that my legs felt somewhat rejuvenated but the test would be the next day, both waking up and running the half marathon.
The Half Marathon
I woke up the next morning and was feeling pretty good. My legs were a little tight, but not bad. I cleaned up a bit, donned my new IronGoof racing singlet and headed out to Jet City to meet up with Jessica, Cheryl, Carol and Tara Lee. That was a nice way to start the morning. Jessica, made us triple espressos and we headed to the start line, for the last time. We made a quick stop at the Team RWB tent to pick up some more runners and take some pictures.
Team RWB is one of my favorite Veteran charities. Being a Veteran myself and an ambassador, I am connected with their cause to help veterans with “invisible” injuries incorporate themselves back into civilian life through athletic endeavors. Invisible injuries would be, Post Traumatic Stress Disorder(PTSD), biological-chemical treated injuries, Combat Stress, and other psychological and physiological issues and disorders. As I was there, I understand more than the average person how critical this cause is, because for every injury and casualty of war there are over 25 invisible injuries affecting Soldiers, Sailors, Airmen, Marines, Coast Guard, and DOD contractors.
We lined up with the rest of the pack for the Half Marathon, listened to a repeated acapella version of the Star Spangled Banner, and after the horn went off for the last time for me, we started shuffling to the start line. As with the 5k, there were a huge amount of runners for this race, so it took a while to find a way to break free. The first mile was around eleven minutes, because we had to stop twice due to the foot traffic moving towards Davis Island. The second mile was not much better at around 10 minutes, but the third is where it started to spread out a little at the end which ended up pacing around a 9:30 minute per mile. I was already way way behind schedule to even come close to the time I completed a couple of weeks earlier at the Rock n’ Roll half marathon. Once I was able to move, I did so, and sped through miles 4 – 8 between 7:30 and 8 minute miles. I felt absurdly confident and noticed the difference in my energy level since I made sure to fuel the night before, more adequately. Unfortunately, the tole I took on my body the prior day, decided to rare it’s ugly head as I passed the mile 9 marker.
All of the sudden my legs felt heavy, my breathing became more labored and even though I was adamant about my nutrition during the course, I slowed to a pace just above a 10 minute mile. I couldn’t believe it as my watch started alerting me after each of the last few miles. When i finally reached the finish line with nothing left, I was just hopeful that I was under two hours or my ego was going to take a huge blow. As I stumbled through the medal line, grabbed some water and Gatorade, I checked my Garmin’s history for my unofficial time. 1:59:17. My slowest non-triathlon half marathon in two years.
The after race activities included pictures in the VIP tent with members of the Brandon Running Association to include lovelies; Beth “B.o.B.” Shaw, Fallon “News Channel 8 Morning Anchor Hottie” Siilcox and Patricia ” Bring my own changing tent” Rossi, good friends; Ben “The Lazy Runner” Mena, Nick “Best Damn Race” Zivolich, Tim “You will never look this good” Schubert, and Chris “You can’t touch this” Wiegner. Of course there were others I cannot remember due to the fact the blood was not pooling in my brain at the time. After I chatted, drank and posed, I left for Jet City where I continued my socializing over fresh Mimosa’s made with love by Jessica.
As I drove home I reviewed the race and what the heck happened to make it so rough. I do not like excuses, so the fact that I am a little older, it was humid or the course was boring are not ideas I choose to partake in, but problems I personally created I can learn from.
- I did not fuel properly Friday night. I know better.
- I had not been putting any real distance in my recent workouts. I had been doing less distance and more interval training.
- I know I have been losing a lot of weight without trying and not feeling as energetic as usual lately and refused to address it.
My intentions to address these mistakes are:
- Revert back to being more responsible the night before race day.
- Obviously, put my longer distance runs back in while keeping a couple of interval workouts. – Lesson Learned: There is no substitute for distance.
- I am incorporating a couple of whole, wheat free, grains back into my diet. Specifically, Gluten Free Organic Oatmeal and Quinoa, to see if I can get my energy and weight back up.
How were your races and/or workouts this weekend?
Rock n’ Roll St Pete Race Recap…Lessons Re-Learned
The crazy thing about not running “Best Damn Race”, was I felt like I needed another race to replace it. It wasn’t very long after I got home on Saturday, that I had typed in the URL for the Rock n’ Roll series and registered for the Rock N’ Roll St. Petersburg Half-Marathon. I have no idea what the driving need was. I have plenty of races on the calendar, so what was another half-marathon? I decided to chalk it up to the hype of BDR and the fact I wanted to race. Is that a distinctive trait in all endurance athletes? I have no idea. I humbly request that you take a few seconds, put yourself in my shoes and let me know if you think you would’ve done the same thing.
I always get excited to go to the expos. It isn’t the free stuff, or the vendors, it is the aura, the environment and the excitement of the race. This expo was no different. I wasn’t excited about any of the vendors or the new technologies, I was just excited to be there and take it all in.
Road ID did something new this year. They were engraving on-site. This was the first event I attended where this was an option. What a great idea, and it was so easy. Several kiosks were set up with their software running on it and all that had to be done, was pick the product (wrist band, dog tag, ankle band, etc), type the content of the engraving, slide your card to pay for it and they engraved it for you
right there. That was my exciting highlight of the expo, besides seeing my friend Kat(Sneakers & Fingerpaints) volunteering with Brooks and Jessica Crate hanging out with Powerbar.
After hanging out with Pete and the gang and seeing a lot of friends at the expo, it was time to head home and chill out for the night. Afterall, not only was I at the expo but I also did a little training ride on the bridges of Clearwater.
The next morning brought on the same excitement as always. I didn’t wake up with the overall feeling of competing, I was more content with the positive anxiety rolling through my body at the idea of running. Period. I love races like this, especially since when I walk around either the start or finish I always seem to find someone I know.
Driving to the event was not an issue. My plan was to just find a place near Tropicana field, on the street or a cheep garage between the start and finish line, but at the last second I decided I really didn’t want to deal with it, so I ended up parking at the Trop for fifteen bucks. This is one of the things I am not crazy about with the Rock n’ Roll race series. Everything is an extra charge. $15 dollars to park at the expo, $15 to park at the race, $5 for a shuttle from the finish line back to the start, $1 per runner you want to track, $5 for the runner to allow others to track and not to mention the $110 race fee. I do enjoy the local races just for the fact they are usually all-inclusive. Best Damn Race was the cure for all of this. One price which even at full price was cheaper ($70), and it included parking, all the good food you can eat, and all the beer you could drink, but I digress.
My first perception was that this race was already increasingly superior to last year, at least for me, because mother nature was giving us a beautiful 57 degrees that morning vs my last experience with the race which was a very cold 33 degrees. This for me was absolutely perfect. The temperature would rise but by the time I finished it still would not have hit 70. A small breeze filled the air with a clean scent, but I could not consider it wind. Even though it was still a little chilly I decided to tough out the wait for the start in just my race attire instead of bringing anything extra for gear check. As I turned the corner around Tropicana Field the start-line events came into my line of sight. There, looking down on the parking lot, were three huge banks of port o’ lets, a few tents for info, volunteers, water and food, and of course the corrals. My heart rate increased a little as the anxiety started to ramp up.
The Mini-Marathon was starting first, which was a 5k, and then the main event, the Half-Marathon, would start about 25 minutes later. Making my way into the arena, recognizable faces started coming into
view. This running community, no matter how much publicity it gets, is still relatively small, so racing seems to promote seeing the same faces at most of the events. Even though I didn’t know a lot of the athletes by name they were recognizable, but of course it is not uncommon for someone to come up behind you and give you a big hug, or tap you on the shoulder to say hi. I ran into Margie and her friend she was running with, as well as Cheryl, Stephanie, Mike, Wibke, and a bunch of others which calmed me down tremendously. I decided that I would race this for fun and just let my legs decide what they were going to do. What I decided and what happened were two totally separate ideas.
Around 7:25 the corrals were filled and as I was bib number 1062 I was to start in corral number 1. The crowd noise was diminished to a slight whisper as this 13-year-old girl gave us a beautiful rendition of our national anthem, the gun went off and we were on our way.
My legs felt really good, my breath flowed easy and my form fell into place. I was listening to my iPod, but the volume was low enough for it to be drowned out by the local bands that were playing on the course every couple of miles. As I passed the first mile, I looked down at my Garmin which read 7:28 which was around 10 seconds behind the race clock, which made sense, but the pace was a little fast. I decided to keep on going and let my legs decide. My Garmin alerted me of my 7:30 pace at the end of the 2nd mile which turned out to be about a tenth of a mile
before I reached the race clock. This is not uncommon with races. The GPS signal grabs satellite data every three seconds and within a city, sometimes it does not make a connection for a few passes depending on buildings, and a variety of signals that can interfere with the accuracy. I where a foot pod to record my cadence as well as fill the gaps when the satellite is not available, but the algorithm that fills the gaps will not do so until I have recorded the history at the end of the event.
When I crossed mile three at a time very close to my 5k PR time, I knew that I was at a pace that was way too fast for my fitness level at this time, but I was feeling really good, so against my better judgement I continued. My pace stuck at a range in-between 7:26-7:40 until mile 8 and that is when it caught up with me. Even though I was sticking to my nutrition, I started to feel the ache in my legs, and the tightness in my chest. I got a hold of my breathing checked my posture, leaned in a little more and kept going, but unfortunately, my pace for the next 3 miles steadily increased. I was pretty consistent with the people around me up to this point. I played cat & mouse with a few of the runners, and I was passing people here and there and feeling pretty good about it, but for the last few miles, I would start to get passed. Between, nine and ten, I saw Ben
Mena on the side taking photos. A familiar face usually helps, so I turned toward him and mucked for the shot, pretending I felt a lot better than I actually did. My legs started getting heavier as we headed toward a small bridge, and I noticed Jessica Crate heading the opposite way toward the finish line, along with a lot of other familiar faces in that elite athlete group. Just on the other side of the bridge my watch alerted me to mile 11 and a lap time of 8:31. Out loud I yelled at myself, “Are you f***ing kidding me?” which gained me a few smirks and a couple of double takes from the others around me. I assessed my form, and my efficiency and noticed I was pretty much jacked up, so I slowed my breathing, lifted my arms to put me back in the right posture, tucked my hips and leaned from my ankles. I glided through the next mile at was alerted that I covered it in 8 minutes flat. “Better”, I thought to myself, but I was weakening and I knew it. I only had 1.1 miles left and while no matter what the finish line would be crossed, but it would be the longest mile of the race.
In a period that felt like two minutes went by when I saw Jessica running the opposite way, which could only be her cool down run, when I yelled and waved and before I knew it, she was in front of me. Yelling at me to stay with her. Her commands kept calling my ego to release anything I had left. “Bring your
arms up, relax and let’s do this!”, is what I heard from her as I started leaning more and lifting my legs. “400 meters Brad kick it into gear, c’mon let’s go!” is what sparked my kick. I could see the finish line, it was right there all I had to do was take everything I had and just push to get there. Jessica’s last words to me were “50 meters left, GO!!!!” and I took off with everything I had left. Honestly, it hurt, but the pain subsided the nanosecond I crossed the timing mat. The race clock said 1:45 on the nose when I crossed and I was disappointed in my time, but not in my effort.
My chest was tight, my back started to twinge a little as I retrieved my medal, took photos and started gathering after race treats. Water, Gatorade, chocolate milk, bananas, strawberries, granola bars were basically shoved into my hands and I hadn’t even left the finish corral. I didn’t know what to do with it all, but I thought the race should really hand a plastic bag to the finishers so it could be collected without effort. After all, we all just ran 13.1 miles, the blood isn’t exactly flowing to our brains.
I found a nice secluded spot to drop all my goodies, and start my post-run routine of lunges, stretches and squats before I started socializing. I caught Jessica at the VIP tent and thanked her for bringing me in and then proceeded to hang with Tara Lee, Cheryl, Karen, Teresa, Holly, Mike, Brian, Stephanie and who knows how many others at the beer tent while we listened to Sean Kingston play live on the stage of North Shore Park.
I didn’t pay for shuttle ticket out of principal, and I kinda decided prior to the race I would just run back, which was probably going to be more of walk by the way I felt. I said my goodbyes to friends at the beer tent and headed back to the VIP area to say goodbye to Jessica, when she told me that she parked at the Trop as well, so we could just run together. “You know, I don’t run as fast as your slowest jog.”, I told her, but she just blew that statement off and we ran back. When I say we ran, I am not kidding. This girl runs like the wind and even though we were keeping a good pace for me, I know she had to keep looking back and slowing down. I will say, when I reached the car, I felt
pretty good. Looser and more agile. This was a feeling I was going to have to remember. All in all, 16 miles for the day wasn’t to shabby.
Have you ever run again after a hard race? How did you feel?
Milestone Monday & Magic Number 6
Happy Monday Everyone. I know it isn’t much but this will be a small milestone as it’s the 20th blog I have written. I have not achieved the frequency of my friend Kat at Sneakers and Fingerpaints who writes 30-40 entertaining and quality posts a month, but I am working up to it. I would really like to allow you to follow me through this last week as I get ready for the Revolution 3 Florida 70.3 this weekend, so I am going to attempt to write a blog a day on my thoughts, workouts and other tasks I am doing in order be as fresh and strong as possible for this 70.3 Triathlon. The Magic Number is 6. Six days until the race.
This weekend was filled with slightly less intensity of training as I started the tapering process for the Rev3. On Saturday the A-Train completed a pretty intense 6 mile run followed by a swim in the extremely choppy surf of Clearwater beach. It was perfect weather for a run which took us along the beach and over the Sand Key Bridge. This was a good last quad burner for some explosiveness during the run portion next week. I always like running with Nick Z. He is an extremely fast runner so even though he is not running at his pace, he pushes me to keep my pace a little faster than usual. Not quite a tempo run, but fast enough for this shake out run.
I went up to the ballroom level of the Hyatt right near Pier 60 after the run and had a chance to get to know one of our new members Jessica M. The hotel is very plain from the outside but inside it is really beautiful. We bought a couple of beverages at the coffee kiosk and then went outside to chat and found comfy couches and chairs with views for the water and the beach. A perfect wind down to a tough workout. Jessica is a recent transplant from Brooklyn, New York, with a love for working out and running. We found out during the Miles for Hope ride how tough this woman really is. I mentioned in that post that we averaged about 18.5 mph during that ride. Ms. Jessica kept up with us the whole way on a recently purchased bike, with no cages or clips on her feet. She did the whole thing with running shoes and flat pedals. That had to be really difficult. I probably couldn’t have been able to keep up.
Sunday we rode a semi-fast 42 miles on the Sun Coast Trail. We started with seven riders and it was very comfortable. of course I lost the valve to my Speedfill early in the ride, but with two backup bottles I was still able to hydrate effectively. The ride started a little chilly for Florida. I don’t know the exact temperature, but it felt low 60s. I was concerned at first because I really wasn’t prepared with long sleeves or with arm warmers, but after a brief warm-up spin, Pete broke away for a bit and I followed. At 23 mph and spinning at at a cadence of 95 rpm, I ended up getting my heart rate up and I warmed up very fast. As we closed in on the baseball fields, marking the halfway point, Pete took it up another notch and we were both hitting 25-27 mph for the mile prior. Oh did I mention the first half was with a decent head wind? I didn’t realize it till I looked down at my Garmin and noticed I was working pretty hard to keep 19-20 mph. The group and I took quick break and then headed back which turned out to be faster and easier due to the tail wind. Pete and I kept a pretty good pace the rest of the ride with Jaime, Stephanie and one other gentlemen on our wheels. About 6 miles prior to being back to the cars, Pete decided to hang back a bit and Steph got rolling with a really nice pace so we played cat and mouse sticking to about a 21-23 mph pace. It was a fun ride, but luckily not too intense to keep our legs for next weeks race.
I went home, showered, rolled, stretched and then headed for a really good brunch at Grillsmith. If you have not had their brunch I highly recommend it.
This morning I woke up extremely lazy, but I knew if I didn’t jump into the pool, I would come up with every excuse in the book not to do it later. Amy, my coach, had me doing a short workout but was form focused which is what I need right now.
Albeit Augusta Part 2
I made it to the front of the dock where handlers had signs up with our ages and waves on them. I found my wave with ease and merged in the rest of the 40-44 males whom had last names that started with the letters I – Q. Now is when the nerves started to build up in my stomach and all the insecurities started to show their pretty little selves. “Did I train enough?” “Why didn’t I do more swim workouts?” “Why can’t I use a pull buoy?” “Should I really use a wet suit?” and the most famous insecurity that comes up before a race; “What makes you think you belong here with all these athletes?” I never can shake that one. (Read my “About” page to find out why.)
|Starting out on the bike|
|Starting the run|
Before I knew it I was at mile 3 wondering where the miles went, especially when my watch had me doing under 9 minute miles. Of course I expected that to change as my body became a little more tired and I started to walk through the aid stations. The run in Augusta is two loops around the center of town around Broad street. It was loaded with spectators and I enjoy it. Sometimes there is even some great signs that people make. I have seen some funny ones, like “Toe Nails are for sissies” and “Chuck Norris never did an Ironman”, but my favorite to this day is still “If triathlon was easy they would call it football.” That one always cracks me up. Not that it is true. Take it from someone who has attempted both American football the other football we call soccer, they both have there different definitions of tough. Triathlon is just the endurance tough because it doesn’t stop for numerous hours, where in the other kinds of football they usually only last 2-3 hours and they have these things called “timeouts”. In triathlon we don’t have timeouts, the clock doesn’t stop because you have a foul or a penalty. It just keeps going.
|The last mile
(took off my hat and
sunglasses for the picture…LOL)
The crowds seemed to have grown on my second loop and I kept my eye out for Jessica who was sporting her bright yellow tank top and green hair. It was supposed to be yellow as well, but unfortunately it didn’t work out that way. I never did see her the whole run, but nevertheless the crowd cheered everyone on. A couple of little kids were on the side holding their hands out and cheering hoping we would run by and give them a high five. There were families out just hoping to get a glimpse of their sons, daughters, husbands, wives, mothers or fathers. As I was running, my photographer’s eye kept seeing Norman Rockwell, paintings. This really was a very clean, forthright city with an old soul. I couldn’t help but smile a lot of the time, at least until mile nine. I couldn’t believe it, the plan was working just fine but at that point, cramp, side stretch…ouch. I forced myself to run until the mile 10 aid station where I walked and grabbed water and a cup of coke while breathing as deep as I could. When the pain subsided a little, I started to run only to be struck down again by the pain. I grabbed a gel packet and a salt tab hoping they would help and they did, for a short while until I arrived at the mile eleven aid station and ate an orange. At this point, I didn’t care. I had 2.1 miles left and I wasn’t stopping. If I had to leave my intestines on the sidewalk and pick them up later that’s what I was going to to. I picked up my pace, blocked out everything and headed for the finish line. I didn’t even see the mile twelve marker, but I felt the vibration of my watch which told me now I had just a little over a mile to go. I kept looking down at my watch, 12.1, 12.24, 12.35. I felt like this was the longest mile of my life, but I was wrong. I finally made it to the split. Left for the first lap and right to the finish and I was going right. Here is what turned out to be the longest stretch of the run. I had no idea that a quarter mile could feel like an eternity and when I finally did see the finish, I felt like I was in the movie; “The Shining”, when the little kid is looking down the hall and it keeps getting longer and longer? That exactly what it felt like. I looked down at my watch and noticed what it said 19:54. Crud! I wasn’t going to make it. I lifted my legs and increased my cadence just hoping I could get one little ounce of speed and I got it, but just a little too late.
|Best race of my life!|
After receiving my medal, taking a couple of pictures and having my timing chipped removed from my ankle I headed over to the refreshment tent a can of coke from this pool of ice and ran in to Russ. He told me that he finished around 4:28. This kid is a machine and that just proved it. We congratulated each other and I went over and got a massage, but not before disposing of the first coke and grabbing a second. While waiting I finished that can and by the time I finished up with Caroline, the LMT who took care of me, I felt like a million dollars. With exception of a twinge in my back, which for me is normal due to my injury, I really felt good. No pain, no soreness and due to the adrenaline still pumping from having such an awesome performance I felt like a rockstar, and I never really felt that way before.
|Beth and I|
As it turned out we all had a good race. Celeste PR’d, Chris finished under 6 hours, Bruce beat me by one second, and as it turned out Russ actually took first place in his age group and was on his way to Las Vegas, but the story of the weekend was Beth. Beth had gone through a lot just to get to the race. Besides this being her first 70.3, she never biked really prior to this year, she had an injury that kept her from running for over 3 months, so she was very freaked coming into this. Wouldn’t you know it, after having a goal of just finishing under 6:30:00, her official time was 5:47:16. We were all really proud of her. You can read all about her experiences on her blog Discom-BOB-ulated Running.