Location: Racine, WI
Date: July 18, 2010
Placing: 15th Overall Amateur, 1st 45-49
Format: 1.2-mile swim/56-mile bike/13.1-mile run
My Race Photos
Commercial Race Photos
Results: Click Here
Check the bike portion of this race by clicking HERE
Check the run portion of this race by clicking HERE

2005...I run in the Fox Cities Marathon and eclipse my PR by 10 minutes qualifying myself for the first corral the following year in Boston. The place? Wisconsin.
2006...I compete in my 2nd Ironman and break 10 hours and the top 20 competitors overall. The place? Wisconsin.
2009...the High Cliff Half-Iron Triathlon produces a 4th overall and a PR for me. The place? Wisconsin.
2010...I enter an inaugural Ironman 70.3. In Racine. Which happens to be a town in a little place called Wisconsin.

Yeah, Ironman Corporation and I may have our differences but Wisconsin and me? We see eye to eye. No, I don't have a Wisconsin fettish (although warm cheese curds give me a special feeling...) but Janis' was born and raised there and her family is very cool so I try to make sure and fit a race in that allows her to visit the old homestead. Sure, that's why I keep going back. It has nothing to do with my seemingly super-human results in their state. No sir. Just what do they put in those cheese curds anyway?

Based on my comment above - and if you know me at all - you might be asking yourself, if I'm not a big fan of Ironman then why do their races? Well, that's an excellent question. Ironman still owns the day. They 'own' the sport. As a competitive athlete, I don't want to have to wonder if I can 'qualify' for this or that. Or if I'm going head to head with a complete array of athletes (many athletes won't do a half - or full - iron distance event UNLESS it's run by Ironman Corporation) Plus, I get a little bit of satisfaction back every time I deny my spot at 'their' world championships (3 times so far). I know a lot of people would kill for these spots - no offense to them - but unfortunately, a lot of people would also cheat for these spots. Plenty of offense to them...and to Ironman for simply allowing it. One more reason to do an Ironman event is to get the variety of promoters. I planned 4 half-iron events this year with the 3 largest triathlon promotion companies in the US. It's been a great way to support all 3 companies and at the same time, get a birdseye view of what they do right...and what they do wrong.

Preparation for this event did not start well at all. Right after coming off of a great race in Connecticut at the beginning of June, I dealt with a mild bout of my asthma...which lasted close to 4 weeks. During this time, my efforts were slower and it was difficult to get my HR where it needed to be. But then on July 5th (yes, it was that noticeable in my training), almost as quickly as flipping a light switch I was back to 'normal'. Unfortunately, a bigger problem was presenting itself. I had been experiencing dull pain in my right ankle and top of foot since just prior to Connecticut. X-rays and MRIs revealed no stress fracture, but the ache persisted such that I was now changing my run gait in order to alleviate the pressure on my ankle. My coach had dropped my run workouts to just 2 a week and concentrated on swimming and cycling. I would have to start each run with a limp that got less and less during the run, but was always there. It wasn't getting worse...but it wasn't getting better. I knew it was slowing me down some but as long as I could continue to run and there was no fracture...

In the week leading up to the race, I gave my race bike some much needed love. Not just a cleaning this time, but new cables, chain, handlebar tape...the works. I even went with classic white tape for the bars. A tradition from way, way back in my early bike racing days. Fresh, clean white tape before a big race. A huge shout out to my friends Brad Fraedrich and Katie Malone. Brad and Katie sherpa'd my bike and gear to Wisconsin in their car. My bike, who is usually short on words wrote this in her diary: "...and the driv to Wesconsin was a lot of fun. Chris was right! Brad and Katey are gud people. I got to ride inside the car with thair bikes. I think I will go xtra fast at the rase! And I love the white handlebar tape!". OK, so I added the last part about the white tape but the rest was word for word (which you can tell because my bike is not a great speller).

Team Kattouf is in the House! (Look I found me a chick with a tat)

Aside from my foot, everything seemed to be coming together well. There was a chance of thunderstorms listed for race day but why should I assume the Wisconsin meteoroligists are any better than ours in Greenville? I took that as a 99% cahnce of NO thunderstorms. My attitude was great!...until...my coach hooked me up with one of his other athletes from the Chicago area who had done the event the prior year (Ironman 'bought' the event after last year thus making it an 'inaugural' 70.3 race. 70.3 is the the trademark that Ironman uses for its half-iron distance races). This athlete basically confirmed fears I had in the back of my head that drafting (cheating) ran rampant last year. It's an all-too-common trend in the flatter, bigger events. Couple that with Ironman's 'blind eye' policy of allowing drafting and my attitude turned sour very fast. I digested this the day before the event during my easy ride. I resolved to not let it get to me and to run my own race. I might not be happy about it, but I could not change it. I convinced myself that I would prevail even amongst those that chose the path of 'unfairness'.

The venue was a nice setup, right off the beach on the shore of Lake Michigan. Unlike most of the competitors who surrounded me as we set up our transition area, I looked calm, cool and collective. I'm sure I fooled a lot of people because in actuality, shutting down is how my body prepares for competition. I am just short of comatose right up until the gun goes off. There were no pre-race problems; plenty of room to set my stuff up. The trasition area looked to be nearly the exact shape and size of a football field. It had to be considering 2,000 participants. The problem was that the place where you biked in and out was on the 1 yard line and my bike was racked on the 99 yard line. I believe my bike was racked in Wisconsin...and the bike exit was in Michigan. For this reason, I changed things up a bit and planned a minimalist approach to my run trasition - foregoing everthing except a shoe change. That meant that I carried my run nutrition (3 GUs) in my pockets from the start. I would skip wearing a hat or sunglasses and I even planned to grab my Ensure and drink it on the run as opposed to pouring it down my throat in transition.

Outside I'm smiling...inside, I'm a caged animal.
By the way, if you have a telescope, you can see the Bike In/Bike Out spot from here...

Unlike a full ironman race, this race started in waves (amen!). The pros left at 7am sharp; I left at 7:43 (along with half of the 45-49 year olds) and the final wave started around 8:15. At least I shouldn't have to pull out any of my karate chop moves to fight through the crowd. It was a relaxing walk a mile along the beach to the start. The walking path was raised above the beach a bit which gave a view of the entire swim course. It was actually quite beautiful and calming. Janis, myself and Janis' sister (Luann) stopped at some benches and watched the first 8 or so waves take off before I began my wetsuit ritual - which includes the greasing of the body and the always comical 'wetsuit hop'. We made our way down to the beach where I stepped into the water to get the wetsuit 'acclimated'. SON OF A B---! Maybe I should have worn 2 wetsuits. I wondered if they had a contingency plan set in case the lake froze over. That might not have been cold to a cheesehead, but to this Southern boy it was frrrriiiiggggiiidd.

Awesome view here. Oh yeah, and you can see the lake.
Even at this point you can see me 'babying' my right ankle

I said goodbye to Janis and as she walked away, I said "See you in 4 hours and 18 minutes". I started my stopwatch when the wave ahead of us left so that I wouldn't forget. I figured I could just subtract 3 minutes as I went along throughout the day. As we readied for the gun, I thought of something that I'm not sure I'd ever thought on the start line of a triathlon...I gotta pee. BANG! Off we ran into the water. Some of us kept running. I maintained my tradition of being the 'last man standing' as I watched those around me taking swim strokes. Are they crazy? the water is only up to my waist. When it gets up to my arms - then I'll start swimming. And the moment I finally dove in, the cold water hit my face like a cement brick. The temperature made my wetsuit feel like I was trying on some old clothes from the 6th grade. I really had to consciously slow down my stroke and take longer breaths. I was good as long as I didn't decide to try and pick up the pace. I had a funny "Ah ha!" moment when we got further out into the open water and I started sighting for the yellow and orange buoys. There was a bit of chop to the water so it was hard enough to see the bouys as you went up and down the shallow swells. But then to realize that your wave is wearing orange caps and the wave ahead of you is wearing yellow caps!!! Everytime I glanced up, I saw what looked like 30 bouys strewn across the lake in front of me. Nice. I hoped I was picking the right one.

Back to the probelm at hand...I still had to pee. I thought to myself 'you gotta do what you gotta do'. I know you didn't want to hear that but this is racing my friends. The problem was that my bladder didn't want to come out and play. Finally, about 2/3 of the way through the swim - when I was seemingly all alone - my bladder complied. Now I'm not telling you this to be gross; there is a purpose. The minute I relieved myself, my body was suddenly loose. I found myself more comfortable and easily picked up my pace all the way to the finish. That was a bit of an eye opener about how something small like that can affect your ability to go hard.

As I stood to get out of the water, I was surprisingly all alone except for one competitor right next to me. He turned to me and said with a smile "that was fun". My response was, "for me, the fun is just beginning". I struggled to grab my wetsuit leash and he was nice enough to help me get it. Last year's results showed that the swim course was obviously either short or there was a hurricane providing a tailwind. I had included that into my "4:18" estimate for Janis. Was the course short again this year? Mmmm...not so much. After subtracting the 3 minutes from the start, my watch read 37 minutes. Of course the timing mat that marked the end of the swim was about halfway up the 40-mile path from the water to the transition. I got dizzy trying to find the cheese at the end of the maze but still managed to accidentally find the transition area. I stopped at the end of the racks where there was plenty of room and performed one of my most efficient wetsuit striptease acts ever (of course nobody got THAT one on film). Helmet, race number, shoes, slam an Ensure, take a jog to the bike exit...and after what would be a 3-minute and 4-second 'vacation' in transition, away I went...for the "fun" part.

On my planet we run around wearing goggles and rubber caps. Take me to your leader.

I started my Garmin after I crested the hill out of transition. I got up to speed, sat down, saw 150 on the heartrate monitor and immediately backed down. I was aiming to keep it right at 140 today - come hell or high water. So, the roads up North. Is anybody familiar with the roads up North? Because of Winter weather, many of the roads are either made of concrete sections or they have splits in them (from freezing and unfreezing). Picture jogging along on your morning run and every 3 seconds, your buddy punches you in the arm. Thbump, thbump, thbump, thbump...as your wheels run over the evenly-spaced cracks. Thank goodness it was mostly isolated to the first and last 8 miles. I settled into a most comfortable pace and had no problem keeping to my prescribed HR. I felt like I was not in fact going very fast but I intentionally did not have my moving speed or average speed visible on my Garmin for just that reason. I was not going to be tempted to change my pace. As I got out into the country, the strangest thing happened...

...there were no 'packs' of riders. No groups of people pacing off each other. There was not one instance that I would have called drafting in 56 miles. Everyone was pretty well spaced apart. It reminded me that even though some people have no problem breaking the rules, that most people would rather not cheat themselves out of satisfaction of the accomplishment. I thank all these people for restoring a little bit of faith in me; something I needed to see.

For the first time ever, I don't even think I was prepared for what I was about to do. In terms from my old bike racing days...I was about to "punch a lot of tickets"

My first 'marker' that gave me an idea of my pace was when I hit mile 20. I do a 20-mile time trial a lot in training so I know exactly what a good time is...46:25. That's a good time. Next came the 1-hour mark. This one is easy; 25.9 miles in an hour. Maybe I had more of a tailwind than I thought because that is not just fast, but it is fast for 140 beats per minute. I was passing people every few seconds and had never felt so comfortable in the aero postion. They had intermixed the waves so well that I was passing a variety of ages and genders. It had been quite a while since I had passed anyone in my age group until about mile 34. At that point, I approached a 45-year-old moving at a decent pace. I rode by him without breaking my rhythm. 30 seconds later, he came by me and asked "is anybody with you?" I felt bad about my reaction after the fact but I was still so pre-programmed by Ironman to expect cheating that I immediately assumed he thought I must have been trading pace with another rider. I snapped back, "I'm riding 27 miles per hour - what do YOU think?" and pulled ahead of him. I glanced back after a few seconds and out of the corner fo my eye, I could see he was staying with me (not drafting, but letting me set his pace). I had been staying so true to my heartrate but I just didn't want to have to deal with this guy in my head so in a mummble, I apologized to my coach and took the HR up to 145-150. I held here for about 3 miles to the next turn and never looked back until I got there. When I did, he was nowhere in sight. I let the HR settle back down.

As I passed additional 'markers', the math in my head was exploding. With 20 miles to go, I realized that I would break 2:20 even if I rode at 20mph. With 10 miles to go, breaking 2:15 was a sure thing. With about 8 miles to go, I told myself that with my protected bike split it would make more sense to back off a bit and go into the run a little more rested. So that's what I did. I was all good - except for the mental duress of the final few miles...Thbump, thbump, thbump, thbump...AAAARRRGGGHHH! As I flew down the hill to the bike finish I slammed on the brakes at the last possible moment (sending the volunteer into a tizzy). The bike skid, the rear wheel popped off the ground, I stopped my Garmin, threw my foot down and the bike stopped precicesly 1 inch in front of the dismount line. The judges gave me a 9.8 for my acrobatic prowess and precision (except of course for the Russian judge who gave me a 5.5).

You've really got to see this close up. I think the volunteer thought I was going to ride right through and into the lake. Instead, I stopped on a dime.

As I ran to my rack position, I grabbed my Garmin off the bike. I threw my bike on the rack, jumped into my running shoes, grabbed my Ensure and was gone in a wink...oops, took my helmet off and THEN I was gone is a wink (that could have been awkward). My first few steps were an instant reminder that my foot is not healed. The adrenaline - mixed with a 3-hour warmup - kept it from being painful but the dull ache still had me changing my stride and compensating. At that moment I was concerned more about doing more damage to my foot than how fast I was running. That changed pretty quickly. I wrapped my Garmin onto my wrist while carrying my Ensure under my arm as I ran out of T2. I planned to carry the Ensure to the first aid station so that I could legally throw the empty bottle but a trash can that popped up 50 feet in front of me changed my plan. I opened it, guzzled it and tossed the bottle all in about 6 seconds.

I put my Garmin in, I take my Garmin out, I put my Ensure in and I shake it all about...

There were people all over the course; most were moving slower than me but what caught my eye after about a quarter-mile was a woman who was consistently staying about 40 feet in front of me. I identified her as a pro woman pretty quickly and since they started 40 minutes before my wave it was obvious that she was on her 2nd (and final) lap of the run. I kept my HR where it was supposed to be and after more than a mile, I finally drew next to her. The name on her shorts revealed that it was Samantha Warriner from New Zealand. Sam finished behind Kate Major a week ago at the Rhode Island 70.3 race but without there being much fanfare around her today, I assumed she was 'somewhere in the pack'. For about a mile after passing her, I could hear her forced breathing behind me - and she was not that close which meant she was huffing and puffing really hard. With about 2.5 miles left in the lap, she pulled beside me again. I didn't want her to feel like I was one of those people that challenges her so I dropped off to her side and egged her on the last 2 miles. She was a great pacer and good distraction for me...I wish she had another lap to run.

As Samantha gave a bit of a final burst the last quarter-mile I watched her pull away. Almost immediately, another woman's voice came out of nowhere and said "on your left". I took a step to the right as Kate Major ran by me. At the same time, the roar of the crowd at the finish line raised to a frenzy. It was only at that moment that I realized that I had a front-row seat watching the pro women's race. It was odd that Samantha didn't have an escort of any kind; there was no indication at all that she was leading the women's field. It was amazing watching and following Kate Major as she gave it everything to catch Samantha all the way up to the finish line. But she could not close the deal and Samantha exacted her revenge on the prior week's results. When I was 50 feet from the finish line seconds behind them both...I abruptly turned left and started my second lap.

I give Janis the thumbs up, which translates to: "I have 6 miles to go and I don't think I'm going to die"

My HR had been slowly and steadily rising as it was supposed to but my mile splits seemed to be 20-30 seconds off of what I would expect. Sure it was warm, but I felt good; not tired like in Chrleston and yet I was running nearly the same pace as Charleston...and an even slower pace than I did in the hilly terrain of Connecticut. It had to be the foot. A glance at the watch and some more quick math as I approached mile 7 told me that if I could avearage exactly 7:00/mile, I could finish in 4:25. That became the goal. I trudged on like a robot. At the wierdest times I would suddenly feel good...or bad, but I could count on it to change a half-mile later. At mile 9, when I was about 2 miles from the start/finish, a huge clap of thunder sounded. Everyone around me glanced back over their shoulders to see a dark grey cloud out of the corner of their eyes. When I hit the final turnaround a mile later and headed back towards the finish, the sky was blue without a rain cloud in sight. Janis and her sister told me that a 5-minute 'monsoon' had blasted through the start finish. I never even got a drop.

I didn't truly start to struggle until around mile 10. This is perfect. The tank should be completely empty at the finish and that's where I was headed. My first mile had been a 6:53 and usually my first mile is a pretty good determinant of my final pace (because I will speed up a bit and then slow down a bit). My final pace was 6:55. My pace from mile 7 to the finish? Exactly 7:00/mile. I had stopped my watch as I crossed under the finish banner: 4:28:00 even. Minus the 3 minutes from the start left me at 4:25:00. Janis ran over and yelled "4:24!". It took us both a minute to sort out the fact that my wave had started 4 minutes behind the prior wave and not 3. 4:24:00 it was!

Nice timing lady. Oh well, it looks the same as all my finish photos: not pleasing to the eye but pleasing to the soul

It was a roller coaster of satisfaction for me the rest of the day as more information became available. My 37-minute swim that I regarded as slow (even for me) was not so bad after all once you saw what everyone else had done. As a matter of fact, this may be the first time I've ever written a triathlon race report without self-deprecating my swim! And my bike? I even managed to amaze myself a bit. My 2:11:21 was the second fastest amateur time and less than 6 minutes from the fastest pro. Unfortunately, I am convinced that my foot cost me a sub-4:20 time and a top-10 amatuer placing. My 1:30:39 run was slower than it could've and should've been. But doing these things is all about seeing what you're made of. Today, I was made of Ensure, Erin Bakers Breakfast Cookies, Oatmeal, Spicy Peanut Noodles, and a touch of TNT...

My final placing out of 2000 contenders was:
29th overall
15th amateur
3rd master
1st 45-49 age group
I'm saying these words a little more often these days, but "not bad for an old man". I took 4.5 minutes out of 2nd place in my age group and over 15 minutes out of 3rd place. Although this race qualified me for the Ironman 70.3 World Championships in Clearwater, Florida later this year, I once again 'passed' on the honor. Although I will say that Ironman made a small jump forward in my book because of this event. They did a lot of things right today...and I returned the favor ;-)

Race Notes:
* As always, Janis somehow managed to cheer, take all the right photos, get the right food in me and get me to the start line; both literally and figuratively. Couldn't do it without her.
* Aside from Kattouf Coaching, Rudy Project and Fleet Feet...an extra thanks to Matt Eiken at Mauldin Chiropractic and Bob Mancuso at Blue Ridge Sports Massage for keeping my foot 'runnable'
* Another great venue...the beach, places to get coffee and food for my family before, during and after the race. Now if we could just turn down the freakin' thermostat.
* It got up to the mid-90's. Ho-hum, just another day in South Carolina.
* They touted the run as "going through the Racine Zoo". I was totally stoked by this. We literally ran through 30 feet of the very far back corner of the zoo behind a shed. I never even so much as heard a monkey.
* Katie and Brad had successful races (considering that Katie spent more time managing the Mount Mitchell event this Spring than training). Brad's sister completed her first half-iron (and only her 2nd tri) in under 7 hours.
* My Garmin had both the bike and run course within a few hundreths of a mile of their precribed distances. No short courses here.
* Besides slowing me a bit, compensating for my right foot left me with a blood blister on my left foot and some torn up toes on my right foot. I also had to deal with the most annoying cut on my wrist as my plastic 'Ironman' participant wristband kept slicing into it thanks to my Garmin.

Next Up: Possibly the Greenville Sprint Tri (depending on my foot prognosis) and my 4th and final half-iron event: the South Carolina Half. However, the South Carolina Half will not be a focus race for me because I will be concentrating on preparing for the Masters National Marathon Championships in October.

Location: Middlebury, CT
Date: June 6, 2010
Placing: 8th Overall Amateur
Format: 1.2-kilometer swim/56-mile bike/13.1-mile run
Race Photos
Results: Click Here
Check the bike portion of this race by clicking HERE

It wasn't easy fitting my parka and baclava into my suitcase but with Connecticut being just outside the Arctic circle, I was better safe than sorry. But it turns out that we apparently flew in a big circle because when we landed, it was near 90 degrees and humid with some pop-up afternoon showers. We were right back in South Carolina! It wasn't until we picked up our rental car that it became glaringly obvious that in fact, we "weren't in Kansas anymore". Dear South Carolina drivers: I take back all of the bad things I said about you. Sure, some of you still forget that you're not the only one on the road but I've been to a place where lane markings and traffic signs are merely suggestions. Where - if the horn on your car is broken - your car is basically useless. Where people will turn right in front of you without regard. No, I'm not singling out one or two motorists; up there it was a way of life.

I'll just make a few other observations about Connecticut before I move on to the race reporting. No offense to Waterbury, but we searched for several days to find the 'nice part of town' and the 'cute downtown area' but to no avail. Everywhere we went in town, we were confronted with 'lock your doors and take your valuables with you' signs. This was not the quaint town we had pictured. We did a lot of driving around the countryside and the landscape was beautiful - and we finally did find many cute little towns that helped us form a much better impression of the area. I can sum up much of Connecticut with this simple statement: If my car went off the road and we crashed, there was a 99% chance I would run into either a Dunkin Donuts, a cemetery, a greenhouse or a person of Indian descent. This was not a bad thing (well, crashing into any of these things would be bad) especially if you prefer tasty DD donuts to those oil-soaked Krispy Kreme things. And please, no hate mail about that.

Kind of like a haunted house...begging me to enter

The race was actually in Middlebury; across the state from Waterbury. It was a 10-minute drive. (Get it, Connecticut is small. Really small). I had shipped my bike in advance because it was easier than travelling with it - and because I am against the extortion that airlines have put me through for 30 years when they tell me that my bike case which weighed 5 pounds more than our suitcase and has handles and wheels requires $150 of extra handling when skis, golf clubs, strollers cost nothing and yet each of these items literally requires 'extra handling'. But I'm not bitter about this injustice...or am I. Anyway, the fine folks at Bicyle Works of Middlebury were gracious enough to accept bike shipments from athletes and would even put the bikes together for a fee. I built my bike right outside the shop on a huge sidewalk in the shade while Janis and her sister cruised Middlebury and checked out the race venue.

For this event, we actually arrived a few days in advance and that made things really relaxed. On Friday morning, the race promoters had an open water swim on the course. It was perfect because I was slated to do a 2500-meter swim and an hour ride. The lake was great - large enough to fit the course into an almost equilateral triangle and water temps that were a bit cooler than my last two open water swims in SC where I had to try out my new wetsuit. The beach was a comfortable size as well. A few dozen swimmers showed up including a good number of the pros and I heard a lot of people complain about how warm the water was for a wetsuit. When someone said something to me, I quipped "when the water is this cold in South Carolina, we get our ice skates out".

I had wondered why the bike times from last year seemed slow, especially the pros. But after riding the first 10 miles of the course out and back, I no longer had to wonder. The course was constantly up and down. And I hadn't even seen the worst of it. Even though I'm not too set on seeing the course before a race, Janis insisted that we should drive the entire bike course (with a short side trip for lunch in the Connecticut 'wine country'). I was glad we did. This would be a 'smart' cyclist's course. Taking advantage of cornering, descending and generally knowing when to hit it and when to gradually stretch the effort out. I would have a minimum speed of 8.5mph on a climb (I remember it vividly) and a max speed of 49mph on a descent (on a winding back road!). Miles 23-29 were a long gradual climb of nearly 1,000 feet. Not brutally steep - but brutally relentless.

My prerace recon mission revealed a challenging bike course. No PR's at this race

Revolution3 - or Rev3 - is a race promotion company that came into existence last year. It was created my multiple Ironman winner Heather Gollnick. I actually did a long training ride with Heather a couple of years ago when she stayed in Greenville for a few days. She was looking for someone to ride with and our mutual friend Gail Kattouf hooked us up. We shared what I thought was a mutual 'frustration' with the Ironman corporation and I think that's what ultimately led her to start her own race series. She wanted to be all the things that Ironman wasn't - more athlete-focused, better prizes/money, more family friendly. I'm glad to see that her efforts have come to fruition and as a 'non-fan' of Ironman, I wanted to be sure and support her by adding this event to my calendar. She did not disappoint. In my opinion, a much better experience all the way around than I've had at Ironman events in the past. And considering this is only her second year, I struggled to find just a couple of points of constructive criticism. I highly recommend a Rev3 event for you athletes out there. But don't expect an easy race along the coast where drafting runs rampant ;-)

Registration was as painless as any registration has ever been for a race this size. I felt a bit like a movie star when they not only took my photo but when I went to rack my bike, they took a photo of my bike as well. They said it was for security purposes but my bike - who is not camera shy at all - believes it was because she is beautiful. Three helicopters filled the air beaming live pictures to the gargantuan jumbo-tron TV set up at the race site. This was definitely cool. They say TV adds ten pounds; this 2-story bohemoth added about 200.

"Ladies and gentleman...feast your eyes on the amazing Jumbo-tron where you will see G-Man larger than you ever really wanted to"

As I mentioned in the beginning of this report, the weather was uncommonly (and eerily) similar to SC weather; hot, humid and a constant chance of pop-up thunderstorms. Race day forecast was an 80% chance of thunderstorms! We had to rack our bikes the afternoon before the event - some people have differeing opinions about this but I really don't mind either way. I have to hope that they won't lose my bike because it's irreplaceable. Not because of monetary or sentimental value, but because they stopped making most of my bike's parts during the Cold War. What I found funny was that with the chance of rain, most people had covered their seats and handlebars with an assortment of plastic bags and tarps. I'm not sure they realize this, but not only will a wet seat and handlebars NOT affect their ride but I'm guessing after swimming...these things will get wet as soon as they get on their bikes on race day. I, on the other hand was one of the few people who covered the correct thing - my drive chain. Keep the chain/cogs/deraillers covered my friends. A chain washed clean of oil will ceratinly affect your ride.

Look -sniff- it's the bike in the bubble...

Race morning came and the skies were cloudy but not very threatening - a good sign. This was easy to see because up here, the sun was already up at 5:15 am (that would make for some awesome early morning runs...if it wasn't for that thing up here they call 'Winter'). Parking was easy, plentiful and close to the venue thanks to excellent volunteers working the parking area. The good news in the transition area was that Rev3 was using slotted wheel holders that sit on the ground to hold bikes as opposed to the tall, metal racks that you 'hang' your bike on. The ground system makes the area cleaner and easier to navigate. It also makes sure that the bikes are evenly spaced apart and that everyone has a very specific numbered slot. One of the few criticisms I had for the event was simply that they put the rows too close together and you could hardly fit two people side by side between rows. This made the transition area a bit of a mob scene in the morning. I am usually so organized but I felt like I was missing something as I left my bike for the last time before the start. I got some pretty funny looks as I pumped up my race tires using just my 15+ year-old hand pump instead of the 'Jet Air 9000 Semi-Automatic, Rocket-Powered Floor Pump' used by most of my fellow competitors. I would come to remember later that I forgot to put my Rudy Project sunglasses in the transition...

That's a lot of bikes. And check out that bicep - that's not Photoshopped

Now just because I don't mind the heat, doesn't mean I'm going to invite it right in. I saw some people putting on their wetsuits like 30+ minutes before their start. Wetsuits are wonderful things in the water...on land, they are like wearing your own personal sauna; complete with a touch of clostrophobia. The pros left well ahead of everyone else at 6:50 and 6:53 (men and women). The first amateur wave was at 7:03 and my wave was at 7:12. When the pros took off, I was still sitting in a quiet spot without my wetsuit on. Not getting overly anxious is a great thing on race morning, unfortunately what I forgot to figure into the equation was that as soon as the pros took off, nobody was allowed in the water to warmup. I just wanted to splash around for 5 or 10 minutes. No go. At least I was able to sneak into knee-deep water so as to get my suit and goggles wet before the start. Looks like my warmup will have to take place during the race.

I'm so relaxed before the start that I forget to put the rest of my wetsuit on until the instant they call my wave to the line...and they're off!

The time finally arrived and the gun went off for our wave. As usual, I was the 'last man standing'. Literally. I walked out as far as I could before eventually giving in to the need to actually swim. With a group of about 70 and a fairly narrow beach, it was one of the more 'aggressive' swim starts I've been in. In local and regional events, I typically start in an 'elite' wave where most of the swimmers immedaitely leave me to swim unencumbered by other humans. Today, I would swim with a group that was closer to my swim speed and that meant a few elbows, some kicks and one guy who grabbed my leg as he stroked (I gave a good kick and that was the last time he came near me). Although I was in the midst of a good number of swimmers throughout the swim, I really only had occasion to bump into people 3 or 4 times after the first 100 meters. My straight swimming didn't fail me either - I swam within about 7 feet of every bouy without ever having to adjust my course. And their buoys were lined up impeccably. Euclid himself couldn't have created a better triangle. What makes the swim so weird is that I have no perception of time. All I have to gauge where I am is at what point in the swim I start seeing different colored swim caps. In this case, they were pink, they represented the women who started 3 minutes behind me and it took them a bit longer than I expected for their 'leader' to pass me. I was encouraged by this and also by how much more comfortable I've felt in the water this year. People aren't having to drag me up onto the shore. That's not a joke; I have quite a few stories of races where I haven't even been able to hoist myself up onto a floating dock after the swim.

When you have size 13 feet, you learn the very useful 'wetsuit dance' in order to get the suit over your jumbo flippers

Now is as good a time as any to share today's goal times. I have a couple of 'magic numbers' in a half-iron event. The biggest is the 4:30 barrier. This is not so much a goal as it is a self-impossed standard. I know that if I break this mark I am most likely near the top of the results and certainly hard to beat by other 45-year-olds. In 8 or so half-irons, my fastest race has been a 4:18 and my slowest race has been a 4:32...so far. Even after viewing the difficult bike course, I still thought it was possible to eclipse this mark. I gave myself plenty of breathing room on my bike estimate, knowing that I was going to really try to stifle my effort a bit in order to have a good run. I planned a 34:00 swim / 2:30:00 bike / 1:24:00 run and 2:00 for transitions. That's an aggressive run and transition but I have met those marks before. Back to the race...I climbed out onto the boat ramp and glanced at my watch; 34:44. 45 seconds down is manageable but my surprise was in how long it took me to transition. The run up to T1 was moderately long but when I got there, it was a bit tough navigating everyone's stuff so close together. Also, I am used to having all kinds of room since my bike is usually racked with the elite group (and their bikes are usually all gone by the time I exit the water). I couldn't even find a place to toss my wetsuit. By the time I was taking off on my bike, it was somewhere around 37:30. Although I was 2:30 down on my goal, I didn't really give it a second thought. I was about to get to RIDE MY BIKE!

The bike start is hard; I have to make sure not to make the jump to warp speed until I'm clear of innocent bystanders

Let me just begin with...YEEHAAAA! I was instantly flying. I glanced down to see 150 on my HR monitor and this was both good and bad. Good because the heart was ready to go - bad because I could not afford to make the same mistake I made last month at the Charleston Half where I rode the first 45 minutes at 150 HR when I was supposed to keep my HR between 130 and 140. That mistake came back to bite me hard during the run. I actually stopped pedaling for a few seconds, took a few breaths and allowed my HR to come down to 140. Then I settled in. The challenging course was the most fun racing my bike I'd had in a while. And keeping my HR lower than I could go, meant that it never got miserable. The road was either up, down, twisting or turning. It kept it exciting the entire time. Even though there was a lot of climbing and my power has been a concern for me lately, I easily made up for it with bike handling skills and experience. When the road is dry, there is hardly a turn out there that I can't make without hitting my brakes. I would catch people slowly on the climbs and descents, but I would literally leave wind burn on people because they would not carry their momentum through turns, curves and over rolling hills. I remember being at mile 20 before I finally reached a point where I could not see a rider up the road for short periods. Only twice did I see anything that could even be remotely construed as drafting - and on this course I couldn't imagine it being efficient unless you found someone who both climbed and descended exactly the same as you. Otherwise, someone would be holding back. No - on this course, there was no opportunity for cheaters.

Around mile 35, a 31-year-old passed me up a hill. I wondered where he came from since he had to start minutes ahead of me in the swim. A minute later, I passed him back by carrying my momentum up the next hill. He passed me one last time and pulled away. I was still catching people and felt good so I didn't give it another thought. On the approach to mile 50 was about 3 miles of fast and twisting downhill. I made a lot of riders nervous as I swooped by in curves - still in my aerobars - at 45+ mph. By the time I reached the bottom, I had run back up on my 31-year-old friend. Just like before, we each took a turn passing the other before he pulled away. He was about 100 yards ahead of me when we dropped down another quick descent that had a curve at the bottom and then a short climb. I full-steamed it down to the bottom where I saw him slow down and get out of his aerobars. I slammed it through the curve and rode up the hill at full speed, instantly putting 30 seconds or more on him. This is how it had been all day for me. I maintained my momentum the final miles into the transition area and stopped my watch. A quick glance revealed a ride of about 2:27:00. If I was to break 4:30 - with a 1:24 run - I would have to be running by 3 hours and 6 mintues. I was at 3:06:55 as I began the last piece of my adventure. I would come to find out later that my bike split was the 2nd faster amateur ride of the day AND my average HR was only 136. Well played.

Sooo, the story could end like a fairy tale; with me running just under a 1:24 half marathon and still cracking the 4:30 barrier. And beleive me - it COULD have. In transition, I grabbed the GU's and my number - which I leave in my running shoes and ran out. Once I was under way, I put my GU's in my pocket, strapped my race number around my waist and put my swim cap...hey, how did I end up with my swim cap in my hand? 'Abondoning' equipment on the course is penalty so it looks like my swim cap was going to get a 13.1-mile tour of Middlebury.

That's 10 steps...only 22,870 left

I had spared enough energy so that when I started the run, I felt well within myself. I also felt a dull pain in my right foot (more on that later) and a small pebble in my left shoe. And although I was not tracking my miles exactly, my first mile was in the 6:30 range...and so was my second...and my third. I was here to PLAY, BABY! Uh, that is until mile 4. Oh no, I still FELT great...I just had no idea that we would have to run up the side of a MOUNTAIN. Seriously. I was so gald that I had not previewed the run course. If I had, It might have mentally killed me during the early parts of the race. In this case ignorance truly was bliss. Although I have to make a sidebar that the course was beautiful. Heavily treed and as much variety as the bike course was. I continued to run people down; some kills came quick and others were slow and methodical. There was a small pebble in my left shoe. A couple of sections of the climb were steep enough so that I felt like walking would not be any slower. As a matter of fact, I passed a guy walking up one of these sections. I was 'running' and barely passing him. One thing that really keeps me going is knowing that every person I pass is glancing at my right calf to see my racing age...46...that has to take it out of some people mentally. At mile 6, I passed a 41-year-old. It had taken me 2 miles to catch this guy but as soon as I did, he dropped off the pace almost instantly. If a guy passed me with a 54 on his calf I know it would put a chink in my armor...There was a small pebble in my left shoe.

The aid stations, turn marshals and all the volunteers in general were unbelievable all day. They didn't just stand there - they had been coached for maximum support. At mile 8, I switched from drinking water to drinking flat soda. There was a small pebble in my left shoe. A bit of sugar and caffiene the last few miles works well if you don't start too soon (otherwise, you will have a sugar 'crash' and I think the name says it all). During the course of the run, the athletes had been nice enough to space themselves out just far enough apart as to give me a new target every so often. From mile 8 to 9, I chased down a female pro. I closed in on her just as we passed close to the start/finish area so there were plenty of spectators lining the streets. I had the best chuckle of the day as I watched all the guys heaads turn as she passed. I could have been wearing a clown outfit and I would have gone unnoticed. Of course, in their defense, there's not a lot of space on a 2-piece bathing-suit style uniform to list your sponsors so I'm guessing they were simply trying to 'read' her uniform ;-) The road had been ever-so-slightly-down from mile 9 to 12 and I was still going good, but the climbs had done their damage. There was a small pebble in my left shoe. I had stopped trying to figure out my miles way back at mile 5 and it's a good thing. As I approached the mile 12 sign, my tired brain tried to do 'race math' (which is always dangerous at this point in the race) I was headed for a 4:33. I'll take that. Wait; what's this? The last mile is completely uphill?! My overall pace dropped from somewhere in the low 6:40's to 6:48 just in this last mile. But I was done. And based on the number of people I could see ahead of me on two diferent out-and-back sections, my quest for 4:30 was a pretty lofty goal after all. Did I mention, there was a small pebble in my left shoe?

What an awesome finish chute and venue for the race. If you can read the clock (4:57:29), you'll have to subtract 22 minutes to get my race time

I crossed under the finish banner at 4:57:27...minus the 22-minute headstart for the pros gave me a 4:35:27 - exactly what my watch read. Although the results had me 40 seconds slower. I have to assume it had everyone 40 seconds slower. A two-story-tall photo of me was displayed on the jumbo-tron and since I had a sizeable gap on the next finisher, it stayed up there for a good couple of minutes. Larger than life. Another half-iron done and another strong race. I had some great statistics that left me feeling as strong as I was years ago....

- 2nd fastest amateur bike split
- 2nd fastest amateur bike/run combination. Fastest combo was the amateur winner who beat me by 11 minutes...8 of which was in the swim
- 8th amateur
- 1st 45-49...2nd in my age group was over 25 minutes behind me
- 2 40-year-olds finished :30 and 1:10 ahead of me; no 35-39 or 20-24 amateurs placed ahead of me< br> - Transitions were totaled at 3:55...that cost me a placing or two! Every second counts

On stage to take my 1st place age group award from Ironman great (and race promoter) Heather Gollnick

Race Notes:
* I was almost amazed by my 2nd fastest bike split considering I could have ridden 5 or more minutes faster...but that would have caused me to blow up on the run. A very wise pro triathlete once told me to remember that it is a traithlon and not a bike race. You don't get anything for having the fastest bike split and then not finishing...
* It never rained on us all day (although it looked threatening at times). The day after the race, we found out that towns all around us got downpours, power outages, etc.
* From the time I got on the bike, only one person passed me and stayed ahead of me and that was at the start of the run
* I ate so much for dinner the night before and the morning of the race that I just couldn't stuff another calorie in my face at the start. I never ate anything solid during the race
* Unlike my last half iron where I drank only a half bottle of liquid during the 56-mile bike, I drank two full bottles today
* The dull pain in my right foot had been developing over two weeks. I am currently waiting to find out if it is a stress fracture
* The pro field here was racing for a LOT of money and several dozen top, top pros showed up. We're talking some of the biggest names in the sport (check the results for a who's who of triathlon)

Next Up: By the time I get this report out, I will have done a small 8k running race (Sunrise Run) and then it's up in the air as to what events I might do before my 3rd half-iron race in Wisconsin in July.

Janis, her sister and myself got to enjoy the amusement park and beach the rest of the day as part of the race. What a way to end a great day

Location: Charleston, SC
Date: May 1, 2010
Placing: 6th Overall
Format: 1.2-kilometer swim/56-mile bike/13.1-mile run
Race Photos
Results: Click Here

It's all fun and games...until someone gets eaten by an alligator. I knew there was a reason it was taking me so long to write this race report. And that reason is this: Triathlete Attacked by Gator. The athlete is just fine, but the irony here is the 'gator scare' at the TryCharleston Half-Iron Triathlon. When I signed up for the first-year event back in January, someone made an offhand remark to me about swimming with the gators. I took it very light-hearted. I mean, they wouldn't put us in a lake with gators...would they?

A few days prior to the event, I received my 'pre-race' event email that provides important instructions. I was aghast to see that the big news was how the promoter had hired a 'gator catcher' to sweep the lake as well as all kinds of other information pertaining to gator sightings, etc. The promoter stressed that safety for the athletes was paramount and that everything had been done to assure we would all be just fine. What I had originally thought of as a joke - was completely serious. I know the promoter very well; he puts on fantastic races and I trusted him implicitly. Of course, I didn't see him going for any swims in the lake. I'm just sayin...

The clues were everywhere...

The gator thing got to be a bit of a joke (especially AFTER the race was over). Someone had even made up "I swam with the gators" stickers. I told the promoter that next year the awards should have an alligator theme to them. Cool awards are the number one reason I pick races these days - and a silver or bronze alligator head? Well, let's just say I already dusted off a spot on the mantel. Although I'm not sure that Janis is on board with this one.

The venue was a charming KOA Kampground. Janis and I had stayed in this campground many years ago. At that time it was several miles from civilization. Now it's not even a mile from a Wal-Mart...which I guess still means they are miles from civilization. I highly recommend it as a camping destination. Janis and I don't mind 'roughing it' but not usually on a race weekend so we opted to rent one of their cabins for the weekend. A front porch swing, plenty of shade and an air conditioner were all we needed. The first time you stay 200 yards from the start of a race, you swear you will do it every time. Janis and I do it as often as possible; the ease of walking to registration - and the event start - is worth almost any price. You can never really 'forget something back at the hotel' when the hotel is on the start line.

Of course, there is a small drawback for someone like me. I'm not like most competitors; I like my sleep. I honestly believe that some athletes were waking up just as I was going to bed the night before the event. Maybe some people don't have their act together. Maybe some people like to sit around and build up nervous energy. Not me. If I can wake up 5 minutes before the gun goes off, that's what I'm doing. Unfortunately, the loudspeakers, music and general mullling around started at what seemed like 3am. The only line that ever takes a while is the body-marking line. Here's a little secret...go to the drug store and buy your own thick black marker and keep it in your trasition bag. Then you can have your friend or spouse mark you. Shhhhhh - don't tell the promoter I told you this...

Last month, I had some tips published in GO Magazine (our regional fitness/racing mag) that dealt with racng the clock on your bike. The point of the article was that other than proper training, there are quite a few things that you can do to be faster on race day that have nothing to do with physical effort - and have a lot to do with using your noggin'. Knowing the rules and other pertinent info is crucial to saving time and energy on race day. Why do I mention this? Well...EVERY time I do an open water swim, I ask the race officials how we have to handle the buoys that are placed in the water. I do this for my own edification, but because I am a really nice guy I ALWAYS ask this just before the start; when the race promoter has the microphone in his hand and is supposed to have everyone's attention.

Here I demonstrate how to go around only the yellow buoys. And yes, that is my arm...and yes, Janis is that good with a camera.

You see, we typically swim way out into the water and make a giant loop (or two) consiting of a series of left or right-hand turns whenever we get to a certain color buoy (in this case, right turn at every yellow buoy). The rule is that we HAVE to pass on the OUTSIDE of these buoys. In between these buoys, the promoter places intermediate buoys designed to help you along the way. These buoys are a different color (orange in this case). These intermediate buoys are not always lined up very straight between the yellow ones; sometimes they are quite a bit off course. You DO NOT have to go around the orange buoys on any particular side. As a matter of fact, you can ignore them completely. Your only directive is to go as straight as you can from yellow buoy to yellow buoy and be sure to swim outside them when you get there. I know this is a long explanation but you can probably guess the reason I bring it up...read on.

All the Elite and Elite Master races - men and women - started together in the first wave. My coach Rick and I decided our only goal before the start was for me to feel completely comfortable in the water before the start in order to avoid starting too fast and possibly becoming hypoxic as I've had happen in the past. So I got into the water several minutes before the start and made sure I got warmed up without wandering off and looking like a tasty gator morsel. At precisely 7am, about 30 of us took off on our journey. My warmup in the water had accomplished it's goal and I settled into a rhythm. I had three thoughts..'swim straight', 'swim smooth' and 'it's all about the bike and run'. After a few minutes I had a fourth thought...'for the love of God, will you please quit running into me'. As always, every time I glance up, I was right on target; and yet evry once in a while someone would run into me at what appeared to be a 90-degree angle?! It would get annoying but I managed to eventually seperate myself from them. We were swimming a giant clockwise triangle twice. Both laps when we rounded the second buoy and were supposed to bee-line back to the shore, I could see swimmers heading out to go around a misplaced orange bouy. Tsk, tsk. Well, I tried to save them when I asked the question...

Swim? 35 minutes. Bike? 2 hours 16 minutes. Run? 1 hour 32 minutes. Ensure Slam? 1.5 seconds...

I dragged myself ashore after what seemed like a lifetime of swimming and was ecstatic to see 35 minutes on my watch; 2 minutes faster than my estimate that I gave Janis. Of course, even at 2 minutes faster I was still not surprised to see just a couple of bikes remaining on the rack for the Elite racers. I've grown accustomed to this sight. It's really not so bad. For one thing, everybody and their bikes are out of my way and I have plenty of room to transition. It also fires me up a bit to know that I am so bad at swimming - and so good at the other 2 disciplines. My transition was quick and included slamming a chocolate Ensure in about 1.5 seconds. I was so fired up today that Janis actually heard me say under my breath "Now you're gonna see some serious shit" as I took my first pedal stroke just a few feet from her.

What did I hear you just say? Now they're gonna see some serious what?

And if you'll excse the expression - some serious shit it was. I had not felt this good on my bike in over 2 years. It was like I was back to my old self. This sounds good but it was bad, very bad. I went overboard. I completely disregarded the heartrate zone I was supposed to be in and rode like I was possessed. As much as people left me drowning in their wake in the water...I left them with wind burn on the bike. I caught my friend and teammate, Gail Kattouf shortly before the 20-mile mark (she was the women's leader) and at the halfway point I was still averaging 26.3 mph. I got to the 'bumpy road' that several people had mentioned and I loved it - it reminded me of my bike racing days and I just kept it rolling. I had about 8-10 miles to go when it first hit me. I looked down to see that my HR had dropped considerably and was now having a bit of trouble getting up to where it should be. About the same time, I spied a group of 5 or 6 riders spaced out about a half-mile ahead of me. I kept my head down and caught them just as they turned onto the main highway for the final 6 miles directly into a headwind.

I never like to see riders rider anywhere near each other. I raced bikes for nearly 30 years and I know that you can still get a small draft even several yards back. When I am faced with the situation of riding an equal pace as another rider, I either take the lead or I ride way back...I'm talking 60 or 70 feet. I mean if you can ride 10 feet behind someone and stay there, why not ride 60 feet behind them and remove any doubt that you are drafting? In this case, I took the first option. I went around all of them and rode my tempo at the front. The sad part was that I had now reached a point where my body was out of rocket fuel and I was merely riding on auxilliery power. The last 10-miles of the ride, my pace went from 25.5 to 24.7 and my heartrate went from the mid-140s to struggling to stay in the mid-130s. Occasionally, I would glance back and the rider behind me was being very good about the rules and was keeping a legal distance...I could not see the riders behind him.

As we approached the turn off the highway, I glanced back one more time. This time, there was a rider sitting less than 2 feet from my wheel. This really hacked me off. I yelled at him "Are you passing or drafting?". No response. I looked back 15 seconds later. He was still there - blatantly cheating. I don't know about his habits for the first 50 miles of this ride, but I'll keep my guesses to myself. I moved over and slowed down for an instant - forcing him to pass me. Sorry, racer #2 - but your name has now been entered into my 'cheaters' notebook right next to my most recent entry (Floyd Landis). I'm sure my friend Gregg Cromer will not be happy to hear that you beat him out for 3rd place Master today...by 11 seconds. Sorry, Gregg...you should have been 3rd...

Five of us pulled into transition within a few seconds of each other and I led the way. Even with my energy dropping in the last miles, I was a couple of minutes ahead of my schedule and was one of 3 riders who took quite a chunk of time out of the rest of the field on the bike. In transition I heard several references to us being 5th - 9th place. I slammed another chocolate Ensure and four of us ran out of the transition shoulder to shoulder and the foot race was on. Just one week earlier, I had set a new PR at the Greer Half Marathon, running a 1:16:34. My running has been phenomenal this year and as I took my first few steps, I hoped that my feeling of weakness on the bike would not affect my run so much. Unfortunately it was not to be.

Funny how T1 and T2 for me are both pretty much empty. It makes for 'roomy' transitions; but in all honesty I'd still rather the racks be full when I get out of the water. P.S. Note the 2 completely full water bottles behind my seat that I carried for 56 miles...

Now I know you get tired of hearing this but...I honestly don't even notice the temperature unless we're closing in on 100 degrees. A Texas boy for too many years, the heat is my friend. Even after hearing so many people complain about it after the race, I still had never given it a second thought. So much so, that I only drank a half bottle of liquid during the bike section!! I'm not proud of this fact - and I'm sure the two 'rookie' mistakes I made were starting too fast on the bike and not drinking enough - but my body had no adverse reactions to the heat. Fortunately for me - most everyone else was dropping like flies. Unlike most people, I didn't 'die' on the run. No. I simply never had the energy to start with. I left transition at what felt like a jog-run pace and held that exact same pace for the entire 13 miles. I never needed to slow down...but I never had the strength to speed up.

I could tell just a few strides in that this was not going to be pretty. Oddly enough, it wasn't that I was suffering...it just felt like I had no juice in the tank.

I watched as Peter Kotland and another athlete in our little group gently ran away from me. I had given Janis what I believed to be a conservative estimate for my run at 1:26. This time would have been the fastest of the day and would have left me as second overall. Peter Kotland would turn the fastest run time of the day at 1:27 and ran down everyone except the wimmer (and thus wound up 2nd overall). Woulda, shoulda, coulda. If there was a bright spot about the run, it was that I don't believe I could ever go any slower than I did and I still turned a 1:32...my slowest run ever in a half iron. Conversely, my swim/bike split rivaled my fastest ever.

The run was wierd to me. It's like I was stepping on the gas...but I was driving a Yugo; and a Yugo can only go so fast. The course doubled-back on itself a few times and I took note of who was catching who and how the race was developing. I felt like I wasn't even racing the race, it was like I was a traveling spectator or commentator on the event. I hated how slow I was moving so much that I decided NOT to look behind me. I made it to a turn-around at mile 10 before I saw the inevitable. He was coming...and coming pretty quickly. At mile 12, with little more than a mile to go, I lost 5th place and 1st place Master as Mike Selle from Charlotte, NC ran by. I offered him my last gel - a gel I had been carrying for 12 miles. He thanked me but passed on the offer.

I held onto my pace as I had for the entire run, and finished in 4:27:08. 6th overall and 2nd Master. More importantly...no alligator bites. After the race, I shared my HR and speed data with my coach (which you can see HERE). And it was immediately clear the direction my HR took during the course of the ride. And - like a good coach - Rick spent the next couple of weeks proving to me during my trainng that I would have been equally as fast if I had ridden a consitent HR for the distance rather than starting at 150 and dropping to 135 AND I would have had energy left for the run. He's a pretty bright guy, you know; just don't tell him I said that...he's easier to handle when he's down to earth.

First and second place Masters - TryCharleston Half

Race Notes:
* Most noteworthy oddity of the results? 5 guys named Chris were in the top 12. All you triathletes keep that in mind when naming your next child.
* Kevin Lisska won the event by almost 10 minutes. I'm not sure if he has a pro license or not - but I imagine he could. Kevin beat me by 14:14. However, he only outbiked and outran me a total of 2:20. You can guess where the other 12 minutes were...same story, different year. (Kevin was the only athlete to outbike & outrun me combined, but as one pro triathlete told me a long time ago - "it's a TRI-athlon")
* I missed my pre-race estimate by a little over 5 minutes - all of which (and more) was attributed to the run.
* Even considering a poor run, there are so many things that can go wrong on a long day like this which makes me feel fortunate in the 8 or so half-iron events I've done that my finishing times have all been between 4:18 and 4:33. We'll have to see where we end up after 3 more half-irons this year.
* Neither myself nor my 2 TeamKattouf teammates considered our day as 'stellar', but aside from my 6th overall (2nd Master), Chris Olson and Gail Kattouf took 3rd male and 1st female respectively.

Next Up: By the time I get this report out, I will have done a small 5-mile running race (WarriorDrive5) and be just about ready to take on my second half-iron of the year: Rev3 Quassy in Connecticut.

Location: Greer, SC
Date: April 24, 2010
Placing: 3rd Overall
Format: 13.1-mile run
Race Photos
Results: Click Here

Maybe I should just quit. I mean, the saying goes "quit while you're ahead", right? The problem with that saying is that each good race leads you to believe that if you were a bit faster today then maybe you could be even a bit 'more faster' tomorrow. I don't know how many more years I can keep looking at my race results and saying, 'I can beat that'. I'm sure that the day that I can't beat it will come long before the day that I admit that I can't beat it. Quit? Are you kidding? Nothing gives you the urge to race more than "being ahead". As a matter of fact, if I'm ever going to retire from competition and start living like 'normal' folk, I'd better start slowing down soon...although it's not looking promising.

I've done this event twice before - in 2006 (5 days after running the Boston Marathon) and in 2007 where I won the event and set a standing PR until September of last year at the very flat Virginia Beach Half Marathon. But all that was before my new training and racing methods. For the 2nd time in 3 years, I set my half marathon PR here in Greer. I now believe a sub-1:16 is possible on a flat course. (Kiawah Island '10?)

So far this year, I've come up against some pretty good competition in the Master's field of my running races, but I am by no means a 'short-distance' guy and was looking to possibly level the playing field today. It's always a bag of mixed emotions when you see that your toughest competition doesn't toe the line. You want to be happy that your day will most likely be easier and less stressful but at the same time, you're here for the competition. I love races that end up being true races - and I've had more of those this year already than I've had in years. Not today. Hopefully, with a state championship designation, this event can draw a bigger breadth of talent next year. But that didn't mean I was prepared to run with any less fire in my legs and desire in my heart.

There were tons of people I knew at this event - quite a few triathlete 'crossovers' like myself as well as lots of veteran runners. I had several Fleet Feet running teammates present as well as a handful of TeamKattouf-trained athletes and even some fellow employees who have picked up the running gauntlet and well...ran with it. Ironically, for the first time in 3 events my team photographer (aka my wife Janis) was present and the camera battery was charged. Problem is that I left the camera sitting on kitchen counter. Janis has tons of pictures - they're just all in her head so you can't see them.

The ground was damp and the skies were gray as the 450 or so runners made their way to the start line in downtown Greer. It was here that I noticed the absence of master's runners like Chris Hicks and Dean Whitis. I also noticed the absence of a start line just a few minutes before the race was to begin. And then suddenly, like a scene from a MacGyver episode, a small band of men constructed a start line complete with timing mats, some barricades, etc. in a matter of a minute or two. I thought they would be at it for several minutes so I stepped to the side to get out of the way and chatted with Kevin Mosteller who is in fact, 'most steller' (what a great name for a good runner). We were just yapping away having a good-ole' time...right up until we heard the announcer yell, "Runners take your mark" - or something to that effect. I'm glad we were near the start line because we jumped into the street and 3 seconds later we were running. It certainly kept the stress time down to a minimum but I don't recommend it.

I'm the one looking to my left and joking with Kevin Mosteller about how we just about missed the start of the race

Nobody really took off hard, but my teammate Jon Stoehr began to seperate himself from the group almost immediately. I just settled into a very calm and easy first 2 miles. Shortly after the start one of my other teammates, Steve Pearce ran alongside me. He asked about my goal and if I minded him pacing with me since it had been a while since he had run a half. I never mind the company but I warned him that racing by heartrate can seem like a lot of back and forth (although in actuality the effort level is very steady). In the first mile, I backed off on one small hill but caught back up to Steve after we crested. I would learn after the race that we crossed the 1-mile mark at exactly 6:00, side by side. The two of us were already running in about 5th & 6th position. I flew through mile 2 and the start of mile 3 which were predominantly downhill, passing 3rd and 4th place and gapping Steve. Somewhere around this point, I could see waaaay up the road and it appeared that Kevin had caught (or was near catching) Jon and that they were already about 2 minutes ahead.

Teammate Steve Pearce and I crossing the Mile 1 mark - as relaxed as can be

Steve caught back up as I dialed it down on the climb to the end of mile 3. I had kept the HR to just a max of 142 to this point. Miles 3-9 I was allowed to jump up to a 149-or-less HR and I did - slowly pulling away from Steve. I would run alone at this pace for the next 6 miles. I was running so efficiently at a sub-150 HR that I never once thought about where the next mile marker was. This is always a good determinant of how exhausted you feel. When you start looking for the 'Mile 8' marker just 30 seconds after passing the 'Mile 7' marker, you'd better gear up for things to get very bleak. This was not the case at all. My average heartrate for miles 4-9 were 148, 149, 148, 149, 149, 149. It just don't get any steadier than that. I enjoyed the occasional banter I received from Ed Hughes on his electric bike. Ed - the ever creative photographer - had rigged a board complete with mounted video camera onto the handlebars of the bike. If you've never seen one of his videos, I suggest you check out http://www.youtube.com/user/greenvillehughes (his 'T-Shirt Song' is a favorite). I couldn't wait to open things up when I passed the Mile 9 sign.

This is a great shot of me racing the traffic. You can see the patch on my arm where they had to replace some of the bionic circuitry (photo: Brightroom Event Photography)

Mile 10 was the longest stretch of the race in the sense that you could practically see the end of mile 10 from the start of it. It appeared flat, but my time - and later, my Garmin - would tell me that miles 10 and 11 slowly made up for the descending in miles 2 & 3. During the mile 10 stretch, I swore I saw someone up ahead but just kept thinking it was someone on a bike. As I got closer to mile 11, I could see it was Kevin again. Little by little, I allowed my HR to ascend above 150. Although I am wearing my Garmin which tracks everything from my pace to the atmospheric pressure on mars, I only have it set to show my heartrate which keeps me honest to my plan. If the HR is where it is supposed to be, the pace will follow. But when I get to the end of a race and my heartrate is allowed to be 'whatever the hell I can stand', I flip my screen over to show me average pace and time. I did this as I started the last mile and it was at this point that I had to quickly call upon my math skills to see that I was headed for another PR. I was nearly maxed but was holding enough inside to let out a good finishing sprint when the time came. I planned to kick it when I saw the Mile 13 sign, a little over .1 miles from the finish and about 45 seconds out. I never saw the sign and before I knew it, someone appeared in front of me and directed me to turn onto a sidewalk. The finish banner was just 30 yards away. I sprinted in for a 1:16:34 and 3rd place.

Pumping down the finishing stretch for 3rd place and a new PR of 1:16:34 (photo: Brightroom Event Photography)

As usual, I never once thought about the weather during the race but janis said it actually rained a bit at the start/finish. I just remember being fairly cool. Near the end of the race, I noticed a hot-spot on my left foot that wanted to become a blister. It was no wonder with the humidity. I looked like I had just gotten out of the bath as I crossed the finish line; my shoes all sloshy and squeaky.

I don't often get to hang around after finishing a race but Janis and I were in no rush and I was glad to stay and see so many of my friends finish. I was extremely proud of my co-worker Marisa Marshal who just started down the path of a healthy lifestyle about a year or so ago. I helped her with a schedule because she wanted to break 2 hours on her first half...she finished in 1:49:12. She'll be under 1:40 in no time.

Race Notes:
* I felt like a piece of me was missing as my shadow, Stephen Sykes was not present.
* Jon (Stoehr), my Fleet Feet team captain, won the event with a 1:12:00. He would have broken 1:12 but he had to weave his way through the 5k finishers the last few yards.
* Team Fleet Feet took 1st (Jon), 3rd (myself), 4th (Steve Pearce) and 5th (Brandon Southern).
* Finishing in the small park near City Hall was a much better venue than in years past. A comfortable way to spend some time after the race.

Next Up: Well, by the time I finished this race report, I already completed my first of 4 half-iron events for the year. You'll have to wait til I finish that race report...now I have a few weeks without an event and then my second half-iron event in Connecticut

Location: Greenville, SC
Date: April 17, 2010
Placing: 4th Overall
Format: 500-meter swim/19-mile bike/5-mile run
Race Photos
Results: Click Here

It finally got here. My first triathlon of the season. You would think after 25+ years in bike racing that I would be smart enough to avoid races with the word "Mountain" in them but alas, just as most people learn the difference between right and wrong, we endurance athletes learn the difference between comfort and pain. I'm just not sure why we choose pain as the more desireable option. In reality, there should probably be a foundation looking to find a cure for this disease before people like me die trying to see who can run up Mt. Everest the fastest.

When I started doing triathlons 4 years ago if you had asked me to design a course that I could most assuredly accel at, I would have said...a five-minute lake swim, a long ride over a mountain and a flat run with no shade. Well, the inaugural Paris Mountain Triathlon was two-thirds there. Of course I'm not the same athlete I was 4 years ago. Allergies and age have both taken a toll on my power and now my running ability has started eclipsing my cycling ability. On the other hand, my swimming ability can still hardly be called an 'ability'. Regardless, one thing has always held true and that is the tougher the course, the more I tend to stand out from the pack. Whether it is an iron-distance event or an event that rides and runs over a mountian...which is precisely what this event did.

The promoter (Set Up Events) made no bones about the severity of this first time event and opened registration only to seasoned triathletes. There would be no first-timers allowed for this event. Sound scary? Well let's check out some of the 'scare tactics' from the pre-event email, shall we...

'I trust each of you know what you are up against this weekend and that you are well prepared. If not, I suggest you consider sleeping in on Saturday. For what you brave souls have signed up for is one of the toughest intermediate distance triathlons in the world.' This was obviously sent out to weed out those who thought they were signing up for a magazine subscription because a statement like this would not only make a triathlete laugh - it would make them ask, "can we do the course twice?"

'Use EXTREME CAUTION at this turn. The bike course is open to traffic and you must stay in your lane at all times. Taking this first turn too fast will result in you ending up in on-coming traffic or in the woods across the road.' Seriously...are they simply challenging me to see how fast I can take the turn? Obviously death does not scare us. We attempt daily to get run over or to drown ourselves.

And my favorite...'This event will be unique in that you will not get your event t-shirt until you cross the finish line. The event shirt will say FINISHER across the back. Any shirts not given out at the finish line to event finishers will be destroyed so only those who completed the event will be able to wear the 2010 Finisher Shirts.' Now it's GAME ON. I'm finishing this thing if I have to push a car up the mountain.

It was nice to start the tri season by waking up in my own bed and making a simple drive across town. Paris Mountain State Park is beautiful and on this day it had the weather to match. I knew if I just raced like I had trained, it would be a good day. The problem is that I felt this way at several events last year. Triathlons to be exact. I had a recurring problem of feeling like someone had robbed me of my power on race day. It sounds ridiculous and unfounded but I know my body after 30 years of this stuff and believe me, it is ridiculous - but true. It only happened at shorter races that seemed to involve a swim. Never my running races, duathlons, or long-distance tris. Janis and I tried to find a common denominator in these events but never came up with anything concrete. In my head I hoped that this 'phenomenon' was tied to my asthma and that now I had it under control. My early season running races were a testament to the fact that my fitness is not in question. I was sure that whatever problems I encountered last year were behind me.

The secret to no socks...talcum powder in the shoes. Plus, it makes it look like smoke is shooting from your feet when you start running.

In the past 3 weeks, my allergies have been horrible but as much as my lungs have had some gunk in them, I can say that my training has not been overly affected. I knew this would not be an excuse for today...although my brain tried to tell me otherwise when I saw the very visible layer of yellow 'dust' covering the entire lake in the park. A blanket of pollen no diferent than the blankets we've all seen on our cars lately. It looked like someone had spray-painted the lake until people started getting in and warming up. The layer of 'paint' seemed to slowly disappear.

I must say that this was the wierdest event from my point of view that I have done in a long time. Looking at the results or watching the race you might ahve thought it was sort of 'business as usual'. But it was far from it. In a nutshell, my performance today was unorthodox in that it was based as much (if not more) on skill and experience as it was physical ability. Let's take it step by step...

The 16 or so Open/Elite athletes would start together in a single wave before the rest of the athletes would be sent off one at a time into the lake (time-trial style). I had not worn my wetsuit in a looong time and it would hardly seem worth it for a 500 meter swim but the water was frigid so most everyone opted to wear one. Wetsuits are by nature a bit clostrophobic and it doesn't help when the water is cold - and I have a low body temperature. All of these things by themselves were a recipe for disaster but to add insult to injury, we would be swimming directly into the blinding early morning sun. I tried not to think about these things because after all, it was just a 500 meter swim. We'd be out before we knew it. What could go wrong?

There's just no way to look good in a wetsuit. Here, myself, Peter Kotland, Bryan Benitez-Nelson and Gregg Cromer look more like wer are doing a science experiment than getting ready to swim.

We shared a good chuckle as they counted down the start and threw on Ozzy Osborne's 'Crazy Train' which seemed more than appropriate ("All aboard!...heh, heh, heh, heh..."). Seconds before they sounded the horn, I blocked the sun with my hand and aimed myself towards the green buoy. Off we went. It was like swimming in the dark. Some kicks and nudges made it feel like we started with 500 people. I had no opportunity to look ahead at all as I tried to manage the small group. I swear I started easy but in a matter of less than a minute, I was not only a bit disoriented from the sun and the people splashing all around me but I also began to hyperventilate. I tried to grab deeper breaths and slow down but in an instant the damage was done. I forged on just a little longer before finally spinning over on my back and taking a few back strokes. I flipped back over and tried to slip into a steady rhythm. I felt like such an amateur. Well, I AM an amateur - but you know what I mean.

It felt like I had only been swimming for a minute but I knew I had been going for longer than that. I was so busy trying to hold myself together that I hadn't once looked up. I stopped in my tracks and looked ahead - preparing myself to see just about anything. What I saw was the green turn buoy...5 feet directly in front of me! I quickly glanced around to see people swimming everywhere. I watched one swimmer zoom right past the green buoy with no idea they had passed it. I rounded the turn and saw three other swimmers who must have taken the corner very wide. How many times can I say this - thank goodness I swim straight. I am sure that I was one of only a handful of people this day who swam the absolute shortest path from start to finish. Today, the 'skill' of swimming straight helped make up for a physical deficit.

I glanced at my watch as I exited the water and also knew instantly that the course was well short of 500 meters since I was going to be nearly 2 minutes shy of my time estimate to the transition. At this point, I had no idea where I was overall but I assumed that the majority of elites were ahead of me. I saw Gregg Cromer leaving transition just as I was arriving and again, some experience and skill helped me to strip my wetsuit off quickly and get onto my bike quickly. Good transitions are time you can buy without even having to workout.

I screamed out of the park on my bike and as I chased the group of riders up a hill ahead, I realized that it was happening again. I pushed on and tried to tell myself it was all mental but it wasn't. The power in my legs was just not there. Lactic acid would build up quickly every time the terrain got challenging. This phenomenon isn't age; it isn't asthma. I did not feel this when I did any of my running races so far this year or either of my practice time trials on my bike. After racing bikes for so many years, I know exactly how it's supposed to feel to go hard and this was not it. After being 're-passed' on a couple of different occassions in the first half of the ride, I really focused on going as fast as I could on the downhills and flats...and really taking advantage of my bike handling skills. I looked back as I made the turn up Paris Mountain. Peter Kotland was maybe 5-10 seconds behind me and Gregg Cromer and Bryan Benitez-Nelson were both in sight behind us.

It was rough. My HR was averaging right at 140 on the climb and my legs could not go any harder. I am typically in the 150's on this climb and often hit 160. I was far from maxed out aerobically, but my legs...About 200 yards in, Peter passed me. Shortly thereafter, Gregg flew by. Bryan followed suit before we reached the halfway point in the climb and then it was just me and the mountain. I have honestly thought of quitting when I've been in a similar situation before but today, it never entered my mind. Instead, I focused on the fact that the final 6 miles of the ride were downhill and technical and those are two things I have NO problem with.

By the time I crested the top, the 3 riders in front of me were long gone. The volunteers at the top of the mountain were directing me to ride across the timing mat at the summit but I yelled to them that I did not want to capture my time (at the race start, the race promoter said that IF we wanted to be eligible for the 'fastest climber' prize that we had to ride over the timing mats at the top and bottom). Apparently, I was the only one who opted out. I had glanced at my watch when I started the climb and I'm telling you right now that my climb would not have brozen the top 15. I instantly went to task. I only slowed for the first sharp turn...the next 3 miles I never touched my brakes. My Garmin said I hit 51.7mph. I caught Bryan, then Peter and as I reached the hard left at the bottom of the climb, my coach Rick yelled at me to go. I think I took Gregg by surprise as I bolted around him in the turn. I probably surprised all 3 of them on my way down after they all passed me so convincingly on the way up.

If you look real close you can see Gregg just 5 seconds behind me as we enter T2 in 3rd and 4th.

I maintained a slight margin over Gregg the final 2 miles as I prepared for T2 by pulling my feet from my shoes on the final little downhill. My last bit of bike handling came in as I negotiated the winding park road while passing a car that had just pulled into the park. I came in for a 'perfect landing' just before the mat. It only took a moment to reach back and grab my cycling shoe that had fallen off the pedal. Gregg crossed the mat 5 seconds behind me...and ran out of T2 2 seconds in front of me. I had to be one of the slowest climbers of the day and yet still managed the 3rd fastest bike split. Again, skill and experience counted big time today. But wait, there's more...

The first half (2.5 miles) of the run was up an increasingly steeper climb. And much like the ride, it required power that I was lacking. Gregg literally ran away from me. I could barely see him at the first mile marker and estimated he had already put 30 seconds into me and it would get worse as the road rose up. I kept going knowing that it was a pretty good bet Gregg was setting the fastest run slpit of the day. Shortly after mile 1, Bryan passed me again and left me behind. At mile 2, Peter did the same. This had to look almost comical to them. Any part of the course that required power today - they went by me like I wasn't even in contention...and then...I finally hit the summit. I estimated that Gregg was probably 1:30 ahead of me at this point and I hadn't seen the two leaders all day (Chris Olsen and Parker Roth).

"Hey, Gregg - come back here with my 3rd place!"...I don't think he heard me.

The return trip down the mountain would be done almost completely on trails. Moments after jumping off the road and onto the dirt, I caught back up to Peter. The trail was quiet technical and we were 'jog-dodging' our way down. Without realizing it, I had become complacent. We caught Bryan fairly quickly as well. After a few shared words about the current state of the course, Bryan asked if we wanted to pass and we did. It was then that I realized that I was no longer racing and was merely 'hanging out' behind Peter. I got close enough to him so that he asked me if I wanted to go ahead. I said "yes", passed him and took off. I gotta tell you - I was worried about the trail. I have huge feet (size 13) and these things are like hooks on roots and stumps. But it turns out, they also make for great stability. I was hauling ass and having fun. I've never felt so close to being a jedi knight as I leapt between trees, around curves and over a 5-ft black snake (no lie). If my buddy Dan had been racing today, the snake would have stopped him in his tracks. Much like Indiana Jones - Dan HATES snakes.

I never tripped, kicked or ran into anything (which unfortunately was not true for several athletes) When I was literally 100 feet from emerging from the trail, I saw Gregg yet again. I popped out onto the road just seconds behind him. To the spectators near the finish, it must have looked like I stayed right behind him for the entire 5 miles. It was all I could do to finish 12 seconds behind Gregg for 4th. Sure enough, Gregg had the fastest run slpit of the day; mine was 2nd just 11 seconds slower.

Finally got to sport the new Rudy Sunglasses on a sunny day. If you could read my mind here, I would be thinking "These guys have no idea how wierd today's race was for me."

I was actually happy and a bit amazed to find out that I was seperated from the winner, my teammate Chris Olsen, by 2:34 when 1:40 of that was in the swim alone. Chris Dillard - another Team Kattouf athlete took 2nd in the men's 35-39 division. That's right...3 Chris's; We might have to change the team name. Physically, it was not really a great day but it just goes to show how important all the little things are - and how to take advantage of your strengths. It certainly doesn't hurt to have a really short swim either ;-)

Race Notes:
* Gregg beat me by 12 seconds...but out-transitioned me by 18. He had the two fastest transitions of the day. Maybe I shouldn't stop for coffee in the transition area...
* This has to be one of the only races on record where more people crashed on the run than on the ride (I hope they were able to put Eric Mitchell back together)
* My pre-race time estimate? 1:33:50 written on the back of a receipt the night before. Actual finish time? 1:34:46. It's a shame that estimating your time is not the 4th event.
* Ran another 5 miles for a cooldown with Peter Kotland and Dee Atkins (the women's champion). The only place to go was back up the mountain. I'm not ashamed to say that Dee put the hurtin' on me...and Peter didn't look like he was enjoying it much either.
* Enjoyed a great lunch with my friends Matt and Melia Eiken (Matt is my chiropractor). Matt almost hit his time goal but was happy to finish adn get the coveted finisher's shirt.
* If I had known my race number (#4) would be my placing, I would have asked to be #1.
* My Fleet Feet teammates actually put together a relay team for the event and anihilated the team competition.
* Janis stayed at home today because her mom and sister were coming in for a visit - so no 'team photographer'...but Kimberley Westbury did a bang-up job filling in!
* Kudos to my fellow Scansource employee Mike Fuller for sucking it up and getting his finisher t-shirt as well (I think on casual Friday that we will both be sporting our shirts. I may sport my belt buckle as well;-)
* I have a new theory about my power loss in shorter events. One thing that seems to be a possible commonality is my hyperventilation - or hypoxia - during the swim. Is it possible that reaching this point during the swim somehow saturates my muscles with carbon dioxide? Or prematurely drains them of oxygen? Just a theory.

Next Up: My first half iron is in 2 weeks in Charleston. In the meantime, I had coach Rick add the Greer Half Marathon in as a training race next weekend. Hope to see you at one of these...

Location: Charleston, SC
Date: March 27, 2010
Placing: 62nd Overall, 1st 45-49 (33,057 finishers)
Race Photos
Results: Click Here

I love racing. But you know what I love almost as much? Not racing. Because NOT racing gives me time to think about how much I love racing. It's a not-so-vicious cycle that when done properly - creates a happy athlete. Race, rest, recharge, repeat. This is my way of explaining why after the first 6 races of the 2010 season, it took me 2+ weeks to write this particular race report. It was my time to NOT race; and not to think about it too much. I spent the first 'trimester' of the season (Dec-Mar) concentrating on running events. Considering the aggressively cold Winter this year, a wise decision. I spent less time outside training on my bike this year than any of the past 30 years. Six races of varying distances from 5k to half marathon. And if you read any of the reports you know that I had little to complain about...don't get me wrong, even though I don't feel 45, I still maintain - and exercise - my right to complain about anything. It is a rite of passage. Who am I to try and stop my 'bitter old man' destiny? But I feel like with 4 PR's I was able to keep my complaining to a minimum.

I've mentioned before that neither Janis nor I are big fans of the HUGE races. We are laid back people and it rarely feels laid back when a race triples the number of people in a city for a weekend. No matter which website you visit, the Cooper River Bridge Run will be ranked in the top 10 largest running events in the US with around 35,000 participants (not to mention all the friends, family and support people that aren't counted). That's almost as many friends as I have on Facebook. Wow.

Oh yeah, I'm real fast. I can beat like everybody. What? Who? Thay guy wearing #9 behind me? OK, maybe not him ;-) (photo: Ed Hughes)

But the Bridge Run called to me this year. It said "Chris, you are running well...and aren't you getting tired of people asking you if you've done THE Bridge Run?" Why yes, I am. But there was another obstacle with this event. Apparently, all the hotel rooms in Charleston are made of gold during this weekend. That's right. A room worth $60 a night is suddenly worth $150+ a night because of, well, as a student of both logic and economics I have to assume that this is the price people are willing to pay. PEOPLE are willing to pay this to run 6.2 miles...not me. With the new bridge, I can show up and run over it anytime I want; maybe when the rooms are no longer made of gold. I guess it's all part of the bitter old man lifestyle. But still, the Bridge beckoned.

I made a half-hearted attempt to find a cheap floor to sleep on but was not too hopeful until my Fleet Feet teammate Tim Briles suggested I contact the person in charge of invited/elite runners. Tim himself is a 31:00 10ker and competes as an elite at this event. If not for the Kenyans, Ethiopians and other professional runners who show up to gobble up the prize list, he would be one of the top runners (Tim was 27th overall - but the 6th American). I let them know about my anticipated finishing time and inquired as to help with lodging. It turns out that since I am old - and they have prize money for Masters - that they considered me an elite runner. They provided me with a hotel room right at the base of the bridge and free entry. What a fantastic stroke of luck and a great experience. I'm not gonna lie - it always feels good to be considered a little special for being a better runner, just so long as you don't mistake 'being a better runner' with 'being a better person'. Let me just say that we should all strive to be better people no matter how fast you run.

Although the packet pick-up on Friday afternoon helped to enforce why I don't like big races - where 5,000 cars tried to negotiate 100 parking spaces on 3 city roads - it was my first benefit to racing elite. I got to pass GO and head directly to the elite registration room. No lines. No waiting. Ahhhh. Janis and I escaped the mobs unscathed and were at our hotel in no time. We stayed in a Quality Inn literally 20 yards from the base of the Bridge. If I DID have to pay for a hotel - this location could not be beat. We were on the less-crowded, Mt.Pleasant side of the bay (where the race starts) and the race would pass close enough to our hotel that Janis could roll out of bed, throw on her bunny slippers, and watch 35,000 of her closest friends run by. I can imagine what this would look like if somehow you were staying at the hotel and had no idea about the race in the morning (which would be near impossible, but you'd be surprised). You would see what would look like a mass panic and exodus. You're only hint that it wasn't doomsday would be the guy dressed in his Superman outfit and the rock band set up in the median. Although on doomsday, I might just appreciate a rock band setting up and jamming out. That's just me.

Friday evening I had to do a 4-mile warmup run and what better way than to test out the Bridge. I instantly became aware of the fact that the wind was blowing in my face at gale force. I mean - if I had been wearing a windbreaker, I might have actually been airborne. I estimated that if the wind were blowing like this in the morning, that the race would take about 24 hours. When I turned around, I actually ran faster UP the other side than I ran DOWN it against the wind. Fortunately, we would all have to fight the same wind; I was just hoping for a fast race. I felt pretty good from my run and the rest of the evening was more relaxed than expected thanks to us hitting dinner before the crowds developed.

For a bunch of fast runners, we sure look like a mixed and motley crew. Just goes to show you that you can't judge a book by its cover. I had no qualms about starting at the back of this group. (photo: Ed Hughes)

Race morning. This is where Elite status really made life easy. Once again the hotel location was a great advantage...I was able to sleep in much longer than most people and then run the 1.5 miles straight down the road to the start as a warmup. Elites also got their own porta-potty which was patrolled by race personnel. No elite number - no potty. Since I didn't have to get bussed to the start extra early, I didn't have to partake of this advantage but it was nice to know it was there if I needed it. There was also a bus for the Elites parked about 100 yards in front of the start line. We could sit on the bus to warm up (it was right at the edge of "chilly" and "cold" that morning), we could also wait till the last minute to strip off our warmups and put them on the bus to carry all of our gear to the finish. We didn't have to merge into the mass of humanity either. The 60 or so Elites lined up about 10 feet in front of the wall of 35,000 people and we got to warm up right until the last minute. As I stood there trying to stay warm, I glanced back once and it was like looking into the eye of a tornado. I wish I had never looked back. It was almost terrifying to think what would happen to someone who tripped in the first few yards.

With the road being 5-6 lanes wide at the start, we looked like such a small band of runners just spread about 2 layers deep. In the mix were the Kenyans and Ethiopians, some amazingly fast women runners and a pretty good who's-who of SC Open and Masters runners - including my Fleet Feet teammates Tim Briles (31:45, 27th) and Jon Stoehr (32:15, 33rd). Unlike the previous evening, the gods were smiling upon us with a tailwind on our way up and over the bridge. It would be a quick pace. After a quick word from the Mayor (who flat out asked us to be sure and spend a lot of money while we were in town), the horn sounded. I swear I heard them yell, "Release the hounds!" I noticed pretty quickly that the HR I was scheduled to hold for the first 2 miles leadng up to the Bridge seemed a bit more of an effort. My pace was good - right where I wanted it to be - but a bit of worry slipped through my mind for an instant.

In what seemed like an instant we were 2 miles in and about to climb the Bridge. I passed Janis cheering her heart out for no other reason than the fact that she is a good wife who would probably rather be doing anything else other than standing there in the cold to watch me run by. I was allowed to take my HR up at mile 2 but someone had mistakenly put the 2-mile clock more than a hundred yards shy of where it should have been. The small group I was with chuckled when one runner said "Wow - 2-mile PR's for everyone!". I allowed myself to slow down a bit in order to stay in my correct HR zone. I knew that once we crested the top at mile 3, I would gain it all back and hopefully more. Several runners passed me slowly and I just watched them go. At this point, the leaders were already 3 minutes ahead of me and well out of sight but that's not a surprise. The winner ran nearly 1:00/mile faster than I did and was probably born running.

I look more like I'm shuffling as I keep my effort level a bit lower on the way up the climb. On the other side...SHAZAM!

The instant I got over the top, I basically started sprinting down to keep the HR the same as when I was climbing; a recurring theme with my new racing strategy that coach Rick Kattouf has successfully instilled in me. I'm pretty sure I reeled in more people than had passed me. I was flying - a sub-5:00 mile. As I passed a couple of runners, they sped up and tucked in behind me like a water-skier in my wake. We hit the bottom at mile 4 and I was so looking forward to my last raise in HR for the final 2 miles. It was not to be. I could barely muster an additional 2 beats all the way to the finish. This was the foreshadowing that reared it's head in the first mile. The good news was that I could still maintain this HR. The bad news was that I would miss out on an opportunity to kick a few extra seconds the last couple of miles. I was comfortably with a good group of four runners that all kept themselves in check at this point in the race. The two things that I really remember as we ran into downtown Charleston were:

1. At the very bottom of the Bridge, one runner got really close to me and clipped my foot from behind as I ran. I didn't hear what he said to me, but it sounded more like "give me some room" than "sorry about that". Since I wasn't sure, I half-shrugged it off. If you want more room, then get in front of me. So, about a quarter-mile later, he bumps shoulders with me. OK. We are now in a group of four on a road that is 5 lanes wide. The third time, I nearly lost it..."Dude!". This is a running race, not a hockey game! I ended up beating him to the line by a second. I wish I had felt better; that made me want to dust him. Oh well. Turns out he was from the Ukraine. Maybe they have 'proximity issues' there.

2. Gregg Cromer (or, "Double-G" as he is called) is one of the fastest triathlete-runners in the state. A few years ago, he won nearly every run portion of every triathlon he entered. He's back. I passed him on the way down the Bridge and thought that I would not see him again. Something made me look back just before mile 6; maybe it was the irritating guy who kept bumping into me. Whatever it was, I had to laugh. As I looked back, Gregg was about 10 feet behind us and looked like Forrest Gump with his arms pumping and his legs ahead of the rest of his body. To make matters worse - he had to be the only guy running that fast in a regular shirt (not a racing top), a baseball cap, and longer, baggy shorts. He actually looked like a cartoon. But he caught us. I'm betting he couldn't bear to see me ahead of him. As I mentioned, I had little to give at the end and he beat me by one second. At least he didn't try to deny that he had been training a lot. I would've had to call 'bullshit' on that one.

My 34:27 was yet another PR this year but I felt I left 20 or so seconds on the table the last 2 miles. That's good - it gives me something to strive for. Gregg and I grabbed our gear off the Elite bus and after chatting with him and my teammates, I sat on a return bus for 45 minutes. The logistics of a point-to-point race is already bad for racers and spectators but when the only short way back to the start is via a bridge that you have completely closed...well, it was a bit of a hassle. I would have loved to have Janis at the finish but the organizers made this virtually impossible. They could have allowed foot and bike traffic to traverse the Bridge before, during and after the race, but they didn't. I was not going to partake of the finish line festivities while Janis was stranded back in the hotel. For a race of this magnitude, it's a shame that they don't consider the spectators at all.

It's fun to slice and dice your placing a bit. It makes us all feel better when we compare ourselves against our peers. Here are some facts with regards to my placing at this race:

34:27
62nd Overall/31st American/19th South Carolinian - 33,057 finishers
11th Finisher over the age of 40 (5th American Master...yes, the Kenyans bring their old guys too)
1st Finisher in the 45-49 age group (1165 finishers)
Longest last name in the top 100 finishers (HA!...take that, South Africans)

Race Notes:
* I was hoping to get to break out the new Rudy Project sunglasses for the race but alas, it was yet another overcast day. Perfect for my 'racing red' lenses. fortunately, the rain stayed away for the entire day.
* Unbeleivably - for those still keeping count - Stephen Sykes finished just 3 places and 6 seconds behind me.
* The light dusting of yellow pollen that showed up our car this weekend may well account for my inability to get my HR maxed today. My chest congestion would grow pretty severe in the days that followed the race and is still present nearly 3 weeks later. I was wise enough to take a short break at this time of year since I anticipated allergy problems.
* Thanks to Ed Hughes who stood in as my photographer for the race. If I'm not mistaken, Ed ran the race carrying his camera. I hope he didn't hack a lot of runners off as he ran by them "Say cheese!"
* When I called to request assistance from the Elite athlete representative, I told her that I anticipated running a 34:30. I was off by 3 seconds.

Next Up: I finally switch gears a bit and turn towards triathlons, starting with the inaugural Paris Mountain triathlon. My racing break is over and it's time to add some swimming and cycling!...

Location: Greenville, SC
Date: March 6, 2010
Placing: 17th Overall, 4th Master
Race Photos
Results: Click Here

I'm happy. I'm mad. I'm happy. I'm mad. OK - I'm really happy with a little bit of 'mad for fun' sprinkled in. Here's the conundrum: I PR'd again. 5 races so far this year...3 PR's. What do you mean you don't see the conundrum?! Well, if getting older means I'm supposed to be getting slower - but all my times are now faster - then that means if I had applied my new strategy for training and racing 5 years ago I would have been much faster. According to age-grading physics, I calculated that a 35:05 10k at age 45 is the equivalent of a...let's see...divide by pi...carry the 3...a 26:17 at age 25. Damn. Well, maybe my math is a little wrong somewhere but it's hard to deny that my times 5 years ago would've been faster than they are today. Apparently, I used to think I was good - but I really sucked (or at least that's how Janis likes to phrase it ;-). OK, maybe not 'sucked' but I'm just a little mad when I think about how fast I 'might have been'. I'm just glad I found out well before I was trying to explain what a 10k was to all the other guys at the bridge tournament...

It was quite an eventful week leading up to the race this time. The prior weekend I came down with a horrible cold and my thoughts immediately turned to my history with the Reedy River Run (more on that in a minute). I shut my body down so fast - and pumped it full of vitamin C and Sudafed - that by Monday my self-impossed science experiment worked and I had it whipped. Janis would then catch the bug on Monday night and carry it for the entire week (she always has to 'one-up' me). Aside from building my energy back up over the following days, it was a great week. I received word that I was ranked first in the country in Duathlon for my age group for 2009. On Thursday night, I got to socialize and celebrate the accomplishment of fellow runner John Johnson who recently completed 50 marathons in 50 states. On Friday, I had the opportunity to be on Blog Talk Radio to talk about working towards negative-split running (which you can listen to by clicking HERE). On Friday night, Janis and I volunteered to help out at the Reedy River Kid's Run and Fun Run. I love watching kids do this stuff. If you've never seen it, you need to. You will get a cramp in your face from smiling. I got to lead the "fun run" and let me tell you what: little kids are FAST. And they have very little concept of distance...nothing is "too far to run to". One boy told me he could run "all the way to the North Pole". I didn't doubt him for a second.

Fun run? FUN RUN?! I had to haul ass to stay ahead as I lead the group on a quater-mile run at Linky Stone Park.

After helping out at the run, we picked up my race packet. Normally, my Fleet Feet team would cover my entry at this event, but this one was free courtesy of a raffle at a Greenville Track Club meeting (another great reason to show up at the meetings!). Thanks, GTC. Then to top off the week, The Living Pixel event photography had used my image on their Reedy River poster and cards. That was kinda cool. Although what looked like a 'little' pain at 600 x 400 pixels, looked excrutiating at 5000 x 3000 pixels...if I had known, I would have trimmed my ear hairs...

The Reedy River Poster child; courtesy of The Living Pixel. Some would say I'm photo-genic...other would say I'm photo-degenerate.

Saturday. Race morning. Four days earlier, it snowed here all day. Today it was gorgeous and Spring is sticking it's neck out. Let's jump into the G-Man time machine and take a trip back one year. Reedy River Race, 2009. A beautiful Spring day - and only a week earlier we had a snow storm. Sound familiar? Well I remember it all too well. It was THE day that my allergy-induced asthma awakened and was really pissed off. The asthma had only just developed the prior year but I had never gone through a Spring season with it. Before that day, a 6:00 pace was an effort. On that day, I turned a 6:13 pace and for the next 6 weeks, running under a 7:30 was nearly impossible. It blind-sided me like Sarah Palin's nomination...I never saw it coming. [Back to present day] After a year of getting my asthma under control, I expect this month to be the real test. So far, so good. But keep in mind that I felt no different when I started last year's race. Who knows what evil lurks in the hearts of men - or in the pollen of flowers...only the shadow knows. And if that reference means nothing to you then you're probably ready for bed after a bottle of warm milk.

Now I'll admit, after soooo many years of racing, I'm not one of those people who believes that you can "do anything you set your mind to". As a matter of fact, I can be a pretty big skeptic at times. But don't let that fool you. I don't have to believe that I can or can't do something. All I have to believe is that I can go hard. Real hard. I may not believe that I CAN do anything but I also don't believe that I CAN'T do something. Don't get me wrong, the mental aspect is HUGE and plays an unbelievable part in your performance. But to really tell it like it is, what I believe is that my body can do amazing things. On the start line, my teammate Steven Pearce asked me what my "plan" was for the race. Without a flinch, I responded "150 max heartrate the first 2 miles, 155 the next 2 miles and anything goes the last 2 miles". He sorta chuckled and said what he meant was what time was I shooting for. I told him that I don't really race that way, but when forced I broke down and said that I was hoping to set a PR by a few seconds - maybe a 35:40. Now he really chuckled and told me "Seriously? C'mon, you can break 35:00". I was glad to see Steven had that much faith in me. Turns out, sometimes the people watching you have a better idea about your ability than you do. I didn't even give it a second thought. If going hard produced a 30:00 then that's what I believe I can do.

A great shot of teammate Matt Pryor as he gathers his wits before the start.

It was really awesome having nearly the entire Fleet Feet team at the race today in our new team singlets. I'm such a cold-weenie that I normally would have worn an extra shirt today but I was bound and determined to finally wear just my singlet. I am 100% sure that I look like a dork when I have to wear a shirt under my singlet. To set the record straight - contrary to what you might have heard, it IS how good you look and NOT how good you are. A singlet it was. I still opted for my Fleet Feet gloves because my hands remain cold. And because they match my ensemble so nicely.

It may have been a bit chilly out but it was obvious that each year, the race brings more 'heat'. Let me show you some 'race math'. Good race => fast guys. Good race + prize money => REALLY fast guys. And when I say 'guys', I mean runners. The 4 men and 1 women racing for Zap Fitness stuck out like a sore thumb in their bright orange racing attire and coach on the start line. Zap Fitness is basically a camp for Olympic+ level runners. The camp is typically in North Carolina but the runners are now spending time training in the Greenville area. Not a big concern for me - they are not my competition. But they did manage to take 4 of the top 5 places and push me 4 placings further down. In case you're wondering, their one woman also won the wonen's race. In case you're wondering more...no, she did not beat me (whew!). But just to make matters worse for little ole' me, the promoters also invited 2 elite Master runners. Thanks, promoters.

I'm just behind teammates Matt Pryor and Brandon Southern...teammate Jeff Gibbs is leading us out.

We bolted off the line precisely at 9am. Somehow, once again, I mysteriously went from being in the second row to being in about the 5th row without even moving. It's a scientific enigma. I spent the first hundred yards or so passing the children, baby strollers, dogs and fish who somehow started ahead of me. Now I'm not a hypocrit; if the fish can prove he has a reasonable shot at breaking a time of 40:00, then I would not begrudge him a spot on the front line. Hell, if a fish could break an hour I'd run with him just to see it.

After a brief, shallow uphill we shot downward. I constantly kept glancing at my HR as it slowly caught up to my effort. Running down in the first mile was pretty wide open but as soon as we bottomed out and headed up, I found myself backing down to stay under 150. Some runners who seemed to be keying on me began to pass me. I'm sure one or two of them thought "what is he doing?". I would've thought the same thing of myself a few months ago. 5:29 at mile 1; faster than I might expect but not harder. Until mile 6, this would be the only time I even noticed the mile clocks. Just after mile 1, I found myself enveloped in a group of runners containing three of my teammates (Matt, Jeff, Steven), Tim Stewart and several others. We ran nearly the entire second mile together but for a little advantage I gained running down to the start of mile 3. The start of mile 3 instantly rose upward; sharply at first and then gradual for a half-mile. I was allowed to jump into my next HR zone and this mile was to be very different.

Not this year. This year, I was all good. I put it into 2nd gear at the top of this hill and away I went.

Since I was able to jump HR zones - but the road was up - it appeared that I was keeping an even tempo. A couple of runners came around me and had a few seconds as we crested the top. And then it was 'game on'. Just like in weeks past where I haven't been maxed out, I did not need time to recover at the top. As a matter of fact, I went into nearly a sprint down the half-mile desecnt in order to keep my HR close to 155. I shot past 5 runners in that half mile and passed Janis with a big grin and a solid thumbs up. I locked into this pace as I ran into Cleveland Park and started to slowly reel in some more runners...but I didn't get too excited. I knew at the end of mile 4, I would drop it into my last gear. I was like a little kid as I watched the banners marking the end of mile 4 get closer. I had passed no runners during mile 4 and remained in no-man's land. The course doubled back on itself at this point and I wondered just how many runners ahead of me I could still catch once I let it all hang out. Racing had always been fun, but this was like 'video game' fun.

The gap that I was slowly closing in mile 4 blew shut in mile 5. One, two, three, four, five runners down. Mile 6 was a wicked mile. Not as bad as it used to be several years ago when we climbed straight up for over a half-mile, but it still had 2 good-sized hills - one at the beginning of the mile and one at the end. I worked hard to pass one more runner as I started up the first part. I noticed that my HR would not go higher than 158. In an instant I wondered if this was still a bit of backlash from my sickness last weekend. I had no clue what my time was but I knew I had left behind some pretty fast guys. I held it together through the middle of mile 6. I was deserately chasing 2 more runners and one of them looked as though they could be Masters age. I couldn't do it. My HR peaked at 159 and that made the very end of this race just a little different than my last few events where I was able to empty my tank in the finishing stretch. As a matter of fact, the runner I passed at the beginning of mile 6 passed me in the finish stretch the way I had expected to pass others.

The top of the hill marked mile 6 and left us just about a minute's worth of downhill to run. I finally noticed the race clock positioned at mile 6...33:53. My brain screwed up the math; I thought "wow, if I can do the last .2 miles in just over a minute, I'll break 36:00". In fact, I DID do the last .2 miles in just over a minute and almost broke 35:00! My 35:05 was a PR by over 40 seconds. I coughed a good bit when I was done, but not like last year. I managed to escape any allergy catastrophies...and I live to run another day.

Finally! ...with this glass my place setting is complete!

It was hard to imagine that with a 17th overall finish and a time of 35:05 that I would be the 4th runner over the age of 40 to finish. As I mentioned early on, 2 of those runners were invited elite runners. The other runner was from Georgia so that did mean that I was 3rd in the state. As a matter of fact, the fastest master took 7th overall which put him into the overall placings and I ended up with the 3rd place Master's award. As for my age group (45-49)...let's just say that things are looking really good for my bid at the Master's National Marathon in Minneapolis this October.

I have no idea who this guy is, but I'm guessing if you can make that face at the end of a race - you've got yourself a PR.

Race Notes:
* As always, thanks to Fleet Feet, TeamKattouf, Rudy Project and my wife...
* Congrats to my Fleet Feet teammates: Jon Stoehr (8th overall, 1st 25-29), Tim Briles (11th overall, 2nd 30-35...Tim is nursing an injury and just ran for training!), Jeff Gibbs (4th 30-34), Matt Pryor (3rd 35-39), Brandon Southern (2nd 15-19), Steven Pearce (4th 25-29), Mark Wilson (8th 35-39...Mark helped set pace for Susi Smith to annihilate the Master's Women), Kelly Boone (2nd 25-29) .
* Benjamin Stoner took 14th in the 5k event. I have no idea who Ben is but that is just a great last name.
* There were lots of impressive performances out there today but the one that I happened upon that got me was 64-year old Bart Smith who turned a 40:03, destroyed his age group and beat everyone over the age of 50 except for 3 guys. If Bart had been 1 year older, he would have won his age group by nearly 13 minutes.
* A huge shoutout to my fellow ScanSource employees. When I started there 10 years ago there were a couple of us that 'did this stuff'. We had a huge contingent out at Reedy this year!
* I hadn't planned to run the Cooper River Bridge Run in a few weeks but I'm running well so I'm hoping that it works out.
* To finish off a great week, I got to spend a beautiful Saturday and Sunday afternoon with Janis; a great party on Saturday night, and an awesome training ride with Gail Kattouf on Sunday.

Next Up: Either the Cooper River Bridge Run (10k) or my first Triathlon of the year - Downtown Columbia Triathlon...

Hanging out with Fleet Feet owner Sheila McCullough before the masses of people realize she has Mimosas at her tent.

 

Location: Greenville, SC
Date: Febrauary 20, 2010
Placing: 4th Overall
Race Photos
Results: Click Here

It's not much of a redemption, but I'll take it. I say it's a bit of a redemption because last weekend, me and 6,000 of my closest friends got 'snowed out' at the Myrtle Beach Half and Full Marathons. I was hoping to take a Master's victory at the highly visible event but wasn't 100% sure of my fitness. I'm a little more sure of it now but who's to say if the chips would have fallen into place at Myrtle Beach? Different day; different race. There are only 3 constants at any race: a start line, a finish line, and the chance to prove to yourself that you can do it - whatever 'it' is. Whether it be finishing first or just plain finishing, the only person you should be trying to impress is yourself. I've been doing this for so long that I'm no longer out to impress myself but I'm still looking to impress just one person - my wife. I learned right away when I met Janis that she was not easy to impress, and that's one of the things I love about her. She keeps me down to earth when I need it. She doesn't say "nice try" when she knows it wasn't...rather, she says "you didn't even look like you were trying to catch him". Was she impressed with my race today? I don't know. She made sure to tell me that 3 guys 'kicked my ass' ;-)

This was the 3rd time in 4 years that I've run the Green Valley 10-miler. It's one of my favorite local events because it's small, the course is challenging and it it doesn't start before the roosters get up. It's also a good gauge right before Spring hits as to my fitness level. Although I preach a lot about trying new events and adding variety to your schedule, you've also got to keep some mainstays that allow you to be comfortable with the venue and the organization. Plus, doing the same event lets you compare yourself against, well, your younger self. My younger self would be very surprised to find out that 3 years later, I would be even faster at age 45 than at age 42. I have to say that I REALLY revel in this fact because last year, before I learned that I had developed allergy-induced asthma, I had quit counting the number of people who's first reaction to my sudden drop in speed was..."well, you ARE getting older...". I was surprised that this comment came from both couch potatoes AND athletes. To the couch potatoes I say "No wonder you have no motivation, you just assume that one day your body will fall apart regardless". To the athletes I say "go check the 50+ and 60+ results from the last big race and then come and talk to me". Yeah, I get a little bent out of shape when someone insinuates that age is a deterrent.

I love these race start photos; it's like you can almost hear the gun firing as everyone leaps off the line. I'm the one on the front row who looks like they will be too hot...but won't.

Well that's enough with the philosophical stuff - let's talk race. I firmly believe the promotors of this race have some sort of mystical deal with Mother Nature. I missed the race in 2008, but the photos from 2007, 2009 and 2010 reveal the exact same weather day. A little too eerie if you ask me, but I'm not prepared to argue with sunny skies and warmer temps. It is a bit funny however that everyone looks at a day when the temps start to break and they only focus on the high for the day. "It's going to be 60 tomorrow" - as if we are going to wake up and go to bed and the thermometer will not move a tick from 60. At 8:45, it still wasn't quite 40 - although to see some people dressed you'd have thought it was 80. I warmed up in full Winter apparel and on the start line, I opted for shorts, a long-sleeved shirt under my Fleet Feet team singlet, gloves and a headband...and for the first time in a while, my dark lenses on my Rudy Project sunglasses as the sun was shining bright!. In looking back at the start photo, I was the only one in the first couple of rows wearing this much. I thought to myself that I might take off the headband if I got warm, but during the race I was so comfortable that the thought never occured to me. I'll definitely be using that low body temperature to my advantage when the South Carolina Summer sets in.

I started training with Team Kattouf just over 3 months ago and so far I have done 3 races this season. 3 races that have been run so very differently than the 300 before them. 3 races that have opened my eyes to a different way to race; a way that I hope will see me through some successful events this year. I've always been 'fast' - and left to my own conventions - I would most likely still be 'fast'. But now I'm becoming 'smart fast' and I like it a lot better (it certainly hurts in a more comfortable way, if that's possible). Today, I stuck to the new plan yet again and in my opinion, annihilated my old 10-mile time.

Several of the usual suspects were in attendence but part of my new 'smart fast' is to not care who is there. Because if I take note of who is present, I will be inclined to try and stay with the really fast guys; run THEIR race. I didn't go into the race with a hard and fast dictation of heartrates and mile splits so I just made some rules in my head that follow the methodology I'm learning. Under 145 HR for the first 2 miles, under 150 to mile 7 and after that, all bets are off. The gun sounded and I 'strolled' off the line. About a minute in, my HR started to catch up and I slowed down a bit and settled into a rhythm. A half-mile in and I counted the runners in front of me. Eight. I stuck to my guns the first couple of miles and I watched the runners ahead of me spread out more and more. There seemed to be a very even seperation between 4th and 9th places - each of us about 30-40 yards behind the other. I was comfortable and continued to resist my age-old urge to 'be at the front'.

Halfway into mile 3, I began allowing myself to go above 145 HR. It was as if I had been carrying a brick and jettisoned it. At 3.5 miles, I caught the runner in 8th. We stayed together until just past mile 4 at the top of a climb. We reached the top and he appeared to have to catch his breath. Since I was keeping the HR under 150, I didn't need to catch mine. And then there were 7. I repeated nearly the exact same thing for the next 2 runners. I would catch them ever so slowly and in an instant when recovery would typically be necessary, I just kept right on going. I pulled up next to the 5th place runner just past mile 6 and we ran side by side for a bit. Unfortunately, he had no idea that at mile 7 I would be jettisoning my last brick, and changing gears one last time.

Some great showings today from the Fleet Feet team (l to r) Jon Stoehr, Brandon Southern, Steven Pearce, Matt Pryor, G-Man (missing: Jeff Gibbs, Kelly Boone)

At this point in the race, the 3 leaders - including my FLeet Feet team captian, Jon Stoehr - were long gone. Somewhere invisibly up the road. Me? I had slowly and methodically caught and passed 4 runners and there was just one more left in my sights. I took full advantage of a long downhill and unlimited heartrate to close on him. When you race by heartrate, you begin to realize how much speed you are leaving on the table for downhills. I was nearly sprinting to keep the heart at 150 beats. If I am making this sound dramatic, well that's because it is. And do you know why? Anybody who has read my running race reports for the past several years might be able to guess the identity of the runner I am now chasing. He is as close to an 'arch-rival' as a person can have. 23-year-old Stephen Sykes, aka 'my shadow'. Last year, Stephen beat me at this race by 9 seconds. Two weeks ago, I beat Stephen at the Downtown 5k by 13 seconds. That's not even close to wierd - check out the results of the last 4 years of the Sunrise run, or any other run that we have done together regardless of length. It will scare you (it kinda scares me).

The 'Finish Line Face'

Since I was looking only at my distance and heartrate on my Garmin, I had no idea that unlike last year when I was hanging on for dear life the last 3 miles...this year my miles were actually getting faster. I caught and passed Stephen just as the course topped out on a long climb; mile 8.5. I was able to keep the pressure on and maintain my gap all the way to the finish with what I would find out later was a 5:36 last mile split (my fastest of the day). I thought for sure there was a mistake as the finish clock came into focus and it had yet to cross 58:00. After a quick glance over the shoulder, I coasted in. My watch read 58:10. Official race time: 58:13. I took 8 seconds out of Stephen; giving us a cumulative time seperation of just 1 second in two years of this race. The funny part is that he beat his 2009 time by 40 seconds...I beat mine by 57. MOST importantly, another PR (personal record) falls. My previous 10-mile PR was 58:47...3 years ago at this very event.

I obviously feel great about my first 4 events of the year but I don't want to get too excited; I've got a long way to go to impress Janis.

Takin' home 'the socks' for Fleet Feet, Team Kattouf and Rudy Project...

Race Notes:
* Okay, maybe ONE guy 'kicked my ass', Janis, but I'd have to argue the other two...
* My slowest mile was a 6:05...mile 2.
* I had several Fleet Feet teammates in the mix including our team captain Jon Stoehr who took 3rd overall, Kelly Boone - 3nd in her age group, Brandon Southern - 1st in his age group.
* Fleet Feet was also well-represented in the 8k event: Jeff Gibbs - 2nd overall, Matt Pryor - 4th overall, Mark Wilson - 2nd in his age group.
* This year's awards were a pair of black socks...the perfect thing for an old guy like me. Now I have something to wear while cutting the lawn in my loafers and Bermuda shorts ;-)
* Team Kattouf teammate Ashley Long completed her first marathon in Jacksonville this weekend in 3:33!
* Friend and sometime training partner, Kristi Arledge won the women's race.
* With the beautiful weather, I opted to do a 40-mile bike ride after the race and ended up meeting a new friend, Chris Adams. We had a great ride and I predict much success for Chris in the future.

Next Up: The Reedy River 10k (State Championships)...

Location: Myrtle Beach, SC
Date: February 13, 2010
Placing: Cancelled
Photos
Results (prior years): Click Here

I've always loved irony. It's as if life is trying to make a cheesy pun and then going "Do you get it?" Yeah, I got it. We act like it's stupid but inside...we always laugh a little. The Myrtle Beach Non-Half Marathon was like that for me. I'm sure a few people may have laughed more than me - and a lot more probably didn't even laugh a little inside, but their situation was probably a bit less ironic (irony is in the eyes of the beholder).

If you haven't read this report header thoroughly - or heard it online or through friends yet - the race was cancelled. The race at the beach was cancelled because of snow. The race at the beach was cancelled because of snow. The race AT THE BEACH was cancelled because of SNOW. That in itself carries a weightly irony but let me make it a bit more personal. Over the past 3 years, I've told a good many friends that they should 'follow me' to marathons and half-marathons becuase I have an uncanny knack for having the most perfect weather. For instance, I did the Boston marathon in 2006. The years leading up to - and following - that year were plagued with weather problems; cold rain, extreme heat, gale-force winds. Not in 2006. Low 50's and sunny all day. Perfect running weather. This past Fall, that exact same weather was duplicated at the Marine Corps Marathon and the Virginia Beach Half Marathon (both attended by yours truly). The list goes on. Oh yeah, follow me and Mother Nature is your friend.

I also passed on a friend's invitation to join them NEXT week at a half marathon in Jacksonville. Janis and I have never been fans of large events but I have to do them every once in a while and for this half marathon I decided that Myrtle Beach would be a more 'prestigious' half than Jacksonville - and it would carry some weight in the SC Runner of the Year rankings for 2010. I'm guessing Jacksonville will be in the low 50's and sunny next week.

And the 'piece de resistance'? I am known for my unforgiving attitude towards the weather people around here. I beleive it's their goal to over-sensationalize a pending snowstorm. And when their forecast for 3-5" of blinding snow materializes as barely a freezing trickle, I simply shake my head. As a numbers guy, I like to say that they will predict snow 10 times a year...and be right once. The REALLY funny thing about this past weekend is that we have had multiple forecasts that have fallen short in the past month or two, but for the first time all season nobody was in our face proclaiming snow and BAM! There it was. Across the entire state.

I knew a lot of people who were planning on doing this event and was looking forward to seeing them out on the course. Janis and I arrived Friday afternoon and made our way to the Expo to pick up my race packet. I had only recently found out that the race was slated to start at 6:30 in the morning. It's not even light at 6:30! If I had known that - coupled with the fact that the race course would not be completely closed to traffic - I could easily have surmised that the people of the city didn't really want us there in the first place. I mean really - it's a beach town in February for goodness sake; it's not like we are going to block hoards of beachgoers ready to spend their money on surfboards and swimwear. It was almost a slap in the face that they were announcing the start had been moved to 7am...but I would've taken 6:32 if they had offered it.

We heard talk of a meeting with city officials to take place at 10pm - and that they would make any change announcements after that. Janis and I spent a quiet evening in the hotel; taking advantage of the pasta buffet. I went to sleep at 9:30 fully expecting to race in the morning, albeit a little later than 7am. When my alarm announced that it was 5:30 the next morning, I fired up the laptop while getting dressed. Janis had turned on the TV and almost immediately told me not to bother getting ready...the TV was flashing that the race had been cancelled. If I have my facts correct, the race promoters were prepared to move forward but the city cited 'safety concerns'. I logged into Facebook to see a most unusual trail of postings from my other running friends who were there from the race. Apparently, several of them had stayed up to hear the verdict; after which time they descended into a drinking and partying frenzy.

The scene in the hotel parking lot on 'non-race' morning. Those poor bikes - somebody call child protective services...

There had been about 5+ inches of snow that fell overnight as evidenced by the roof of my car but Janis and I headed out for breakfast about 8am. We determined at that time that the roads were completely safe - at least they were safe from the threat of ice on the roads. As for them actually being safe?...read on.

Hmmm...I'd be at mile 10 right about now instead of eating this omelet if the race hadn't been cancelled

As we drove 'into town' to eat, a strange phenomenon began to occur. It started out slow, but stared to grow. 2 runners...8 runners...10 runners. Runners, runners, runners. I felt like I was in one of those movies where the underdogs just got their pep talk before rushing in to attack the enemy...or for those of you that are a little older...the scene from Planet of the Apes where Caesar shouts, "Now! Fight like apes!". It was unexpectedly inspiring. As I looked out the window of the Friendly's restaurant on the strip - eating my omelet - hoards of runners were passing in groups as little as 1 and as big as 15. Some were even wearing their race numbers. My brain said "that's crazy" but I couldn't help feeling like a kid sitting in time out. I wolfed down my breakfast and announced to Janis, "uh, I'm going to get the hell out there and run". It was invigorating, surrounded by snow and runners - both of which had taken over the city. The sun was out and the temps were great. I didn't want to make Janis wait too long so I opted to do 10 miles at near race pace. When traffic allowed it, I (and hundreds of my friends) ran down the road. When necessary, the sidewalk. It was like one huge AA meeting for obsessed runners. Each one understanding how the other felt and offering up friendly words. Some poeple even drove around the course offering food and water from their own vehicles. The truest irony of all was that hundreds - maybe thousands - of runners were taking to the course; all at different times and some in the opposite direction...and the streets weren't even partially closed! What they had succeeded in doing was creating a MUCH larger safety issue by NOT letting the race go on. The only difference is that the city had absolved itself from responsibility.

Those cones aren't marking the course, they are marking a construction area. Make no mistake, the roads are wide open...and the runners have taken over

I finished my 10-mile run by crossing the original 'finish line', where several race personnel stood by and handed out medals to those who would take them for the audacity to run a 'non-existent' race. I laughed hard as I crossed the imaginary finish line and two people made the phoney, high-pitched 'beep' that we are all so used to hearing as our chips typically cross the finishing mat. My 6:01 pace made me even more happy that I had ventured out.

For me, I was more disappointed that I wasted a vacation day, money for a hotel, etc. than the fact that the race was cancelled. For me, it is just one of 30+ races I will do for the year and I pretty much did my normal training leading up to the race. Others were not so forgiving - and that's understandable. Had this been my first half or full marathon, I would have been much more upset. Or if I had trained specifically for this race, I would have begrudged the city more.

Waiting for a bus that will never come

One last note: you might want to reconsider following me to any half or full marathons in the future...

Race Notes:
* I met a guy who flew in from Michigan; he was not real thrilled to find out that the same conditions he had been training in for months would be considered 'unsafe' here in SC
* Thanks to Janis for being such a good sport. Neither of us are beach lovers and this didn't make it any better for her (although she DID get her photo of snow on the beach)

Next Up: The Green Valley 10-miler and the Reedy River 10k...

Location: Greenville, SC
Date: January 23, 2010
Placing: 13th Overall, 1st Master
Race Photos
Results: Click Here

Does anybody else play the race number game? Maybe it's because I have this fascination both with numbers and coincidences, but whenever I go to a race (especially a larger one) and pick up my race number, I'm always looking for some weird, "Magic 8-Ball" interpretation of my number. I don't analyze it as 'good' or 'bad' but rather, for what coincidental meaning it may hold. Three weeks ago, I was #316 at the Resolution Half Marathon. I'm not an overly religious person but it dawned on me pretty quickly that John 3:16 is a very noted passage in the bible..."For God so loved the world that he gave his one and only Son...". This week, I drew #625. Maybe this number has some hidden meaning for you but for me, it is my mother's birthday (6/25). The funny thing is that it doesn't take a mathematician to see that it is actually the number of brain cells I kill at a race...

Although today is actually the 3rd race of my 2010 season (which for me starts around Thanksgiving each year after a break) it was really quite important on several levels. But the most important thing was it kicked off the answer to the question "Is G-Man really uncoachable?" Many years ago when I was a bike racer (shortly after the wheel was invented), I raced for a few different teams who each had a coach...and who each told me that I was basically 'uncoachable' for any number of reasons not the least of which was my stubborn demeanor. Over the past 30 years, I've developed my own ideas, theories and strategies that appear to have served me well. But I've matured now; or that's my story. So out of the blue one day I just decided it was time to listen to someone else's ideas. I mean, writing your own training schedule is almost as draining over the years as the exercise itself. Plus, when you fail you have nobody to blame but yourself. Now I can blame my coach (just kidding ;-)). This event also serves as the South Carolina 5k State Championships and I had my eye on the Masters title for 2010.

I figured at age 45, what do I have to lose if it doesn't work out? But I also made the commitment to be "all in" if I was going to give it a fair shake. The long and the short of it is that I formed a relationship with Rick Kattouf and he has been coaching me for 3 months now. I have followed his schedule nearly to the letter and although we shared a lot of the same workout ideologies, he definitely does some things different than I have ever done. The first 2 races of the season were 'C' level races and my results were good but I considered them negligible in my assessment of my new coaching. But this past weekend...well, let's just say that Rick was about to get his first report card. Read on.

Saturday morning was what we Rudy Project athletes call a 'racing red' day. With overcast skies and a slight breeze, my racing red lenses were a perfect choice to brighten my view of the course. Temps were in the low 40's and although I've acclimated well to living in the North here (well, it's the North if you were raised in San Antonio, Texas), I'm still a cold-weenie and really have to suck it up on the start line to not over dress. As for my warmup...long tights, hat, gloves, and a couple of long-sleeve layers up top and I felt completely comfortable. Watching people standing around all morning in shorts made me think about how lucrative the knee-joint reconstruction business probably is.

As much as I like to warm up with my Fleet Feet teammates, I've learned that everyone has their own pre-race ritual and schedule and you don't need any more stress before a race trying to make it work for everyone. I had decided last year that the exact perfect warmup for a 5k is to run the course once and that's what I did. It also gave me the opportunity to view the new course which was a welcome change from last year. I couldn't say for sure, but I believe the course had just about the same amount of climbing - it was just positioned a lot differently with a long steady climb in the first mile instead of what felt like a near-vertical wall in mile 3 of the old course. It was a perfectly timed warmup and I finished with just enough time to stop at the car, change into my race clothes and head to the start line.

Since I anticipated finishing in the top 30 or so runners, I lined up in the second row next to my friend Kristi Arledge who I hadn't seen since she broke the 3-hour mark at a marathon a few months earlier. This is Kristi's first year as a female Master...that's something that I'm sure will take some people by surprise (she finished 3rd female on this day). It was once again amazing to me that my second row somehow became about the 5th or 6th row by the time the gun sounded, which is why I at least try to line up near the edge of the road that is most likely to give me an 'out' if I need it - in this case, the left side of the road. The Greenville News sponsors the event and has a video of the entire race, start to finish, on their website. The camera was a bit of a distance in front of the start and zoomed in; so you can't hear much of what's happening. But you don't have to hear them say "On your mark..." because all of a sudden on the video everyone on the front line bends over, reaches for their watch and remains perfectly still for about 5 seconds. It's almost as if they all were suddenly taken over by mind control and given the exact same order.

I thought I might play a version of Where's Waldo with this one, but I helped you out a bit. Originally, I was on the 2nd row.

The instant they say "go", it goes from very quiet to a non-stop barrage of beeps that must have gone on for minutes after I was gone. Between our electronic chips activating as we crossed the start line - and the beeps of watches starting, it sounded like mechanical microwave popcorn. The first 100 yards was downhill and we all took off fast. I was about to run into the guy in front of me and I used my 'out' to the left. I suddenly found myself behind 2 young boys no taller than my stomach. If either of them had stopped or slowed down in that instant, the 3 of us would be sucking our dinner through a straw right now. I somehow managed to pull off a double-axel with a half-cartwheel twist and for the next 5 seconds I thought about how lucky I was and how stupid those kid's parents were. It's all fun and games till someone puts and eye out...

We began the 3/4-mile long ascent and per my race instructions, I did NOT attempt to hang with the lead runners - an maneuver that is hard for me but in the last several months has already proven to be highly beneficial. I set it on cruise control with the thought that mile 1 should be my slowest mile and my most relaxed. By the top of the hill, I had caught and passed a few runners who forgot how long 3 miles is and I was positioned about 50 yards behind the lead group (which was already starting to string out) - but ahead of everyone else. Since I never look back in a race, it felt like it was just the lead group and then me. I was absolutely blown away when I crossed mile 1 at 5:30. It felt more like 6:30 to me. I was calm, smooth, comfortable and already dreaming about mile 2 which was predominately downhill. I was so calm that I waved hello to several friends lining the streets and I noticed two new storefronts in the West End; Carolina Tri's new store location and RoadWaves - a new fitness/coaching center put together by my friend Jeni Schumacher (who also cheered for me).

I kept telling myself not to chase people down but to stay steady and strong and they would come back to me. I passed a runner at mile 1.5. I actually had enough energy to question whether I should surge around him or not. I opted to gently glide past him. By now, the real speed demons had separated themselves and there were only 3 runners ahead of me within striking distance. I try to look at all competitors the same but I have to be honest, I wanted to be sure I was the first place Master today and 2 of the guys ahead of me looked like they could be 40+ from behind. Of course, this almost never pans out because I picture myself looking as though I am 20 - so everyone who looks 20 could possibly be 40 ;-)

Mile 2 and no 'ugly face'?? What's going on here?

Mile 2 clock read 10:48...that was a 5:18 mile and I had made up hardly any ground on the 3 ahead of me. But I knew how well my HR can drop on a descent and I hoped I could mount my attack when the course bottomed out at mile 2.5. As I reached that point, I was still in disbelief at how, for the first time ever, a 5k race felt the same kind of hurt as a half marathon. And believe me, G-Man is a distance machine. If I can make a 5k feel more like a marathon then you just might see something special. I was focused but calm at mile 2.5 and had no problem giving coach Rick the thumbs up as I ran by.

We started to climb to the end of mile 3 and I had 3 different situations going on ahead of me. Runner 1 was falling back and had him on the radar. Runner 2 refused to speed up or slow down. It was like he was taunting me. Runner 3 seemed to have another gear and pulled away. I approached runner 1 as the course reached the high point again and it was Stephen Sykes! He fooled me by not wearing his favorite customary light blue shorts that he ALWAYS wears. He was apparently incognito! Stephen and I have a very funny history that you can read about in some of my past race reports but basically he is almost exactly half my age...and exactly the same speed. I've probably competed against Stephen in 2 dozen races of all lengths and the cumulative difference in our finish times can't be more than a minute. Today looked to be no different but it was looking like it was my turn to take the win in our own personal battle.

Finally, I rounded the corner with about .2 miles to go - all downhill to the finish. Runner 2 was still about 6 seconds ahead of me. I remembered last year how long this stretch can feel when you can see the finish banner from so far back. I started to really push and close in but stopped when I realized that I would only have one chance to pass him with everything and I'd better wait till the last minute. Well, he had glanced back and knew I was coming. He picked it up and so did I. I felt maxed out as we hit about 100 yards to go and I simply told myself that he would not be beating me. I don't care if my heart, lungs and legs think he is going to beat me - he is not. And he didn't. It was probably the hardest running sprint I have ever done. Turns out he was 37. Runner 3, who I thought might be a Master? 19 years old. So much for judging ages when you barely have enough oxygen for your legs. The fine folks at The Living Pixel captured my finish sprint in all its glory here. It may loo like I had the 'ugly face' but it was a lot less ugly than it has ever been in a race this short and it only showed up in the last 100 yards and not at mile 2!

Me and Joe Hammond display our watercolor awards. Joe took 3rd place master.

Race Notes:
* Rick's report card for this semester? A+
* My time of 16:48 was a PR...and my first mile was in fact my slowest mile.
* I had several Fleet Feet teammates in the mix including our team captain Jon Stoehr who took 5th overall, Kelly Boone - 2nd in her age group, Matt Pryor - 4th in his age group. My Team Kattouf teammates also fared well with Gail Kattouf taking the overall woman's victory and Chris Olson - 3rd in his age group.
* I was impressed to see about a dozen of my fellow employees of ScanSource step up to the challenge today; it's becoming an epidemic at work!
* Always interesting local awards at this event. Last year - wine from a local winery. This year - watercolor paintings from a local artist.
* I would be remiss if I didn't mention the adjustment that my chiroprator friend Matt Eiken gave me this week. I had been dealing with some lower back fatigue and I never felt a thing on Saturday - even after my ride up Caesars Head!
* Kudos to my friend Ashley Foster who used to work at ScanSource (where I work) and now is an event coordinator that puts on the race. Great job, Ashley.
* We planned a Team Kattouf group ride for after the race. A small but brave group of us did a 60-mile ride to the top of Caesars Head and back in the cold mist. I believe I can call this an epic training day.

Next Up: The Myrtle Beach Half Marathon and the Green Valley 10-miler...

Look ma, no problem bending over after the race!...thanks to Matt Eiken of the Mauldin Clinic.