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The title of the post is lending itself to a race report but I am going to step back a bit. Wednesday morning around 6 am my phone started to vibrate. Unfortunately, I missed it because I was in the pool, but after I finished my hygiene regimen, I grabbed my phone out of the locker and noticed it. I knew whom it was from and what it said before I even looked at.
Pete and the Goof
Recently, Pete’s Mom, Noemi, has been dealing with a lot of complications from the brain tumor they operated on 23 years ago. Over the last few months she has been in-between hospitals and rehab centers with pneumonia and other lung related issues, and finally last week she was taken to hospice in Dade City. I made it a point to check-in on Pete, as often as possible and make a couple of trips to hang with him at the hospital or wherever just to give him and his family a sense of normalcy and support. Wednesday morning, around 5:12 am her suffering finally ended.
Pete is a red-blooded American male in every sense of the word. His does not show his emotions to just anyone, and even in his toughest times, he continues to care about other people. The interesting thing is his family is pretty much the same way. His Dad made it a point of finding me when I visited the Hospice Tuesday night to thank me. Even though I knew this man was in a lot of torment, he smiled and kissed me on the cheek. Pete’s Sisters are the same way. Not a tear, not a drop of contentment, just gratitude. This is what made this decision so hard.
The Best Damn Race was scheduled for Saturday, but the funeral for Noemi was on Friday and the viewing on Thursday. I promised to help set up for the race, but something like this was not in the cards when that promise was accepted. I really wanted to be there for my friend and his family, but I had no intention of disappointing Nick either. Thursday morning, I made the phone call everyone I know dreads; disappointing a friend. I called Pete and asked him how much of an ass he thought I would be if I missed the funeral. I would be at the viewing, but I thought I would be of more use at the setup. Without missing a breath, Pete told me to go set up the race and that if he had a choice, he would switch with me. The advantage of being in this lifestyle allows for all of us to understand what it means to both train and staff a race. The truth is; I would have said the exact same thing.
Nick and his Dad
Friday morning I drove up to the Safety Harbor Marina and saw an open field with a few tents being set up, a huge Budweiser Truck and a few guys marking the areas for different structures. The day was filled with moving boxes, putting up tents and tables, running errands and just making sure Nick and the teams were supported.
Very quickly, the expo ramped up and was in full swing by noon. It was amazing, to watch. Not that I hadn’t seen it before, but I was never as close to it. This was an idea hatched a little less than a year ago and here it was. The finish chute went up, and the “Best Damn Race” Logo was everywhere and that is when it finally hit me. This was real. Nick had really made this happen. Toward the end of the day, there were over 3000 runners registered, which is completely unheard of for an inaugural race. Nick, the vendors, the interns, the volunteers, and race staff were all in fast forward mode trying to get everything accomplished on time which to watch was nothing short of amazing. It was like a well-oiled machine. When Lisa, Ben, Ray and I finally decided to end the day and get some dinner, I was completely exhausted but exhilarated at what the next day was going to bring us.
Nick and Beth holding the tape for the first finisher
I was so excited I ended with very little sleep that night, but I still had no problem getting up, showering, throwing on my running gear and getting out the door. I had a few tasks Nick gave me to take care of before I headed over to the registration tent thinking that I would check with the volunteer coordinator to see if there was anything else before I started warming up for the half-marathon. It turned out we were a few volunteers short, so I ended up going to finish line to help out after receiving a distress call from Beth. This is why I was there. Sure, I signed up for the Half-Marathon, but my first priority was to Nick and the race. I ended up spending the whole day, handing out medals, and supporting the runners, so as much as I wanted to run, I had an amazing day.
I watched and hung medals over the necks of a ton of my friends as they cross the finish line, I had the opportunity to hold the tape for a few of the elites, I handed out and hung over a thousand medals, and just felt privileged and honored to be a part of it.
Were there a few hiccups in the operation of the race? Of course, but Nick, and the race director Phil LeHaye resolved all of the issues seamlessly. A year ago, I have to admit, I had my doubts. I knew it could be done, but taking on this huge of a challenge and making it look as professional as it did, exceeded my expectations. I am so proud of my friend Nick Zivolich. What he was able to accomplish and all of the obstacles he overcame is nothing but inspiring.
Nick and his Best Damn Girlfriend and Best Damn Friends
Nick’s Best Damn Crew
Nick and the Best Damn Goof
I have come to the realization that even I, as the epitome of the positive mental attitude, still hear those negative voices in my head. For all the conversations I have with clients, friends and other athletes about going out and just having fun, I still have grand notions of finishing races with a PR(personal record) and while working out this week those goals seem daunting.
I had three Lactic Threshold tests I had to complete this week; one each for swimming, biking and running. While just doing these tests I felt like I was really out of shape, and truth be told, I did take an off season for the last couple of months, at least by triathlete standards. I did complete at least 5 hour long workouts a week with a half-marathon and a 10k thrown in there, and, oh yeah Ragnar, but I wasn’t in “training” mode per say. This week I started back “in training” and my goals seem so far off and this is only my third day.
Monday, I completed my Bike and Run LT tests which consisted both of a 10 minute warm up, followed by 40 minutes of the event at a pace that burned my legs and put me into a feeling of oxygen deprivation but not so much that I couldn’t complete the full 40 minute main set which was then followed by a 10 minute cool down. My running LT is 173 and my biking LT is 165. I looked into my future workouts they are noted with requirements that include the LT. For instance: Bike 12×1 minute climbs at LT+10, meaning I should be climbing and my heart rate should be 175. Sounds like fun doesn’t it? I know my body will acclimate, hopefully I won’t make a mess before it does.
Tuesday, I completed my first bike workout and strength workout. The bike was 8-12×1 minute climbs in the saddle at a RPM of 50-60. Now my normal riding RPM is 85-95, so you can imagine the resistance that had to be on the bike. I ended up doing it on the spin bikes at LA Fitness, because, well, there are no hills in my general vicinity which is Tampa, Florida. Nothing but flatland here. I have to travel 45 miles north to San Antonio to get any resemblance of some hills, and during the week, that just is not happening. Why? I have a responsibility to this activity called “work”. I wish I could sit here, blog and comment all day, but unfortunately I cannot. I blog in between meetings, lunch and then edit when I can. This workout while being fun, was what I would call, THE QUAD KILLER. It was brutal.
Unfortunately, I was late getting to the gym so I was not able to get my strength workout in, so I showered, drove to work and then returned that evening. Luckily, I always have an extra set of workout clothes in the car. (I think I got that from Ben Mena. He is notorious for spontaneously telling his girlfriend to just drop him off 10-15 miles from home and after changing into a spare set of shorts and shoes he runs home.)
I haven’t worked out with weights in a while, and I know from my studies of the anatomical makeup of muscles and the neurological systems of the body that there is a “breaking in” period no matter how much experience you have lifting. In order to activate the pleasure center of my brain instead of the pain center, I had to drop the weight down and do the exercises concentrating on good form. It was a circuit of 5 supersets and it was not easy, no sir, not easy at all. Deadlifts, pull-ups, squat to overhead thrusts, medicine ball wood choppers, side planks, cable twists and more. I felt beat to death afterwards. Of course, I understand my body enough that I had to stretch very well afterwards or my back would be yelling at me later.
I also learned why I really enjoy working out in the morning. It was extremely busy at the new South Tampa LAF last night. I barely got a parking space, and I ended up having to do most of the movements in a tiny little space, while other members were just waiting to pounce. It was at that point I read myself the riot act and vowed that no matter how much I had to do during the week, I would just wake up early to finish all of my workouts in the mornings.
That vow started this morning as I was up at 4:30 and ready to leave at 5 even though my first workout was track at UT which didn’t start until 6. That workout was brutal as well; 800-400×3-1mile-400×3, at least this week I didn’t falter until the last 400 and only by a couple of seconds. As soon as I finished and cooled down I headed to LAF to do my swim T-test. Basically this is 1000 meters swam as if I was in a race and then the average time of a 100 meters is considered my T-Pace for workouts. Future workouts for example included “4×100 at T-pace – 10 seconds”. I have been working really hard on my body position in the water, but I am still really slow. (Notice I am not mentioning what my T-Pace actually is.) With a pull buoy or fins, I can go forever at 1:50 min per 100m, but without I am…well…a little slower.
After going through all of this, I guess I feel like I should. There is a long journey ahead. I might as well enjoy it.