Kona Report - The Run

Here's where it get's interesting!

T2 was just as hectic as T1. There were athletes everywhere in the tent, yet the volunteers kept the chaos somewhat organized. The volunteers at this race are amazing. First, there are a ton of them, and next, they are really into it. I sat down on a chair to get my race flats on (I wore a pair of Adidas racing flats designed for the marathon which I loved - typically I advise athletes to wear a light weight trainer in an IM for the extra cushioning for a beat up muscular and skeletal system, however these shoes worked great) and a volunteer slapped a cold towel over my back and neck which just felt great. They had another guy asking if I wanted sunblock while another one helped me bag up my bike gear.

I left the transition with my legs feeling good and settling right into a comfortable pace, yet my core temperature was quite high and I was feeling it. The first mile went by quick though and I soon hit the first aid station where I grabbed water, took a sip and poured the rest over my head, grabbed a sip of coke and some cold sponges and headed on towards the next aid station another mile up the road.

The first 10 miles of the run is an out and back along Alii Drive. There are a lot of spectators here cheering you on and as cool as that is, I really dislike this section of the course. The buildings along Alii block any wind from coming through and the air temperatures were now in the high 90's to low 100's. Because it's also so humid, the smells along Alii are really pungent. If you weren't nauseous enough already, this section will put you over the top. I actually prefer being back out on the desolation of the Queen K, but had to wait until mile 11 to get there.

I was only in mile two of the run and with each step, I could feel my body temperature rising more and more. My head felt like it was baking inside my hat. I knew I was in trouble and was doing everything possible to not think about the 24.5 miles I still had left to run. I laughed to myself at the thought that some athletes believe an open marathon is harder than an IM. I began counting, which again, works for me usually. I counted 100 strikes with my left foot, then 100 with my right, then 95 with my left, ... I rolled through aid station two and grabbed the same stuff as the first aid station and this time I also grabbed cups of ice, put some in my mouth and the rest down the front and back of my shorts and top. I was still running at a decent clip, but could already sense that this was going to be short lived as my temperature was now at a point where I felt like I was being boiled for soup in a huge cauldron.

Spectators were standing out on the street in front of thier homes with garden hoses and I was running through everyone offered, weaving back and forth across the road to hit them. I was now seeing the leaders coming back in the other direction and Chris Lieto still had his lead - good for him, although Macca, looking dazed, was closing in fast, and behind him, Alexander and Raelert were running together and looking comfortable.

I hit every aid station, still running, but grabbing everything in site liquid wise. I was losing my appetite which wasn't good and took in more saltstick tabs. I was mostly dumping stuff on me now - water, ice, sponges, more water. The relief from this was very short lived as I'd find myself somewhere in the next mile searching hard for a glimpse of the next aid station, all the while counting to distract my mind.

On the return trip on Alii drive, I was now stopping at the spectators with the hoses and having them fully douse me head to toe, front and back. I saw some of the other CT troops heading out towards the turn around on Alii and gave them some encouragement. First came Mitch West who I had met at the airport on the way out to Kona for the first time. Really nice guy and doing Kona for his first time and doing it well. Next came John Wilson who didn't even hear me, at least I don't think. He looked as bad as I felt but he was still running and moving forward. He's one tough hombre. Next I saw Oakes Ames who never looks as though he is running well but always is. Looks can be deceiving.

At mile eight I no longer knew that trouble was still ahead, it was now here. I was really having difficulty processing the heat and was beginning to get a headache which is a definite sign of dehydration. I hit the rise up Palani Hill at mile ten and began walking. My plan wasn't to walk Palani but I felt I had no other choice. The most spectators on the course are on Palani during the race and they were all yelling at me, positively cheering me on to run. It felt like payback for me doing this at LP as I spectate each year out on harassment hill.

I honestly had thoughts of quitting. I couldn't see myself running another step let alone running 16 more miles. I hate to dramatize things but when you reach this point in an IM, it is dramatic, at least to me. Sure I easily realize there are way more important things in life, yet when you are at such a low spot physically and mentally in an IM, your emotions are amped. I was in one of the lowest, darkest places I've been in before and everything I had, just about, was telling me to throw in the towel.

Then I saw Lisa near the top of Palani as I made the turn onto the Queen K. I looked at her and could see her serious concern and I said "Lis, I'm in bad shape." Yet I was still walking forward. She was really positive and encouraging as she relayed all the "maybes" at me. "Maybe you'll come around in a mile or so." "Maybe the clouds over the mountain will come down." "Maybe once you walk for a bit you'll feel better." Then she said "You can come around, there's still a lot left" to which I remember responding "that's the problem, there's still a lot left. I cant cool down Lis!" I began thinking about all the support I received going into this race. A small cloud covered the sun for maybe 30 seconds and during those seconds, I told Lisa I'm going to try to run, told her to be prepared to be waiting a long time, but I'd be ok. I then started to run again, and as much as I thought about all the support from friends, family, even strangers that I received emails from, the one thing that kept me in it and moving forward was my kids. I thought about what it would be like to tell them I didn't finish the race, and suddenly, quitting wasn't an option. Not finishing wasn't an option anymore. I didn't care how long it was going to take, I was going to finish.

It still seems so vivid, as though I remember almost every step during the rest of the race. Although sitting here relaxed now while writing this, it's easy to forget just how much I was suffering over the last two hrs of this race. My headache throbbed more with each step and the only thing I wanted was to stop and lay down in a tub of ice water. I ran until mile 13.5 and thought "I'm over 1/2 way done with the run! and at the same time I thought "I still have 1/2 the run left!". I began walking again. shortly thereafter, I felt a friendly tap on my back and turned to see Scott Jones, a good friend from Boulder, run past. He said "Come on Eric, you walk the aid stations, not in between. You know better than that." He was right, I did know better and I needed this friendly kick. I began to run again and bridged the gap up to Scott. We ran from aid station to aid station and walked the stations getting in and on as much coolness as possible. It's much better off to try and cool from the inside out, yet my appetite wasn't there and I didn't want to take much in at all. Scott talked a little bit during these miles, I said nothing. It took every bit of energy I had to just run. We ran down into the energy lab where the temperature was near 113 degrees F! We weren't running fast by any means, but we were still passing quite a few people. I was now out of saltstick tabs since I used more than I thought I would and was now relying on gatorade for electrolytes, a situation I don't really prefer. Scott was clearly feeling better than me and saw a marine coming back the other way at the bottom of the energy lab - this guy was leading the military division. I told Scott (a navy guy) to go after him in which he did. I want to thank Scott if he happens to read this. He saved my race for the most part. Until he came along at mile 13.5, I could have easily been content with walking the remainder of the marathon.

Coming out of the energy lab, I passed pro Mike Lovato who was having a tough day. I said "way to stick it out Mike" and he was very gracious in responding. Here's a guy whose aspirations were to win the race overall. Things went south and instead of bailing like Norman Stadler did (I saw him walking on Alii drive), he respects this race to much and walked on to the finish.

The 10k back to town after coming out of the energy lab was unbelievably painful for me. It took everything I had to run aid station to aid station. You have almost every part of you yelling at you, sweet talking you, saying "just stop running and start walking". I did everything I could to just focus on that one small voice that said "keep running you wuss". It was awfully quite out there. There were a lot of athletes, but everyone was silent. The only thing I heard besides these voices from within was the squishing from my soaked running shoes hitting the pavement. I dug as deep as I have ever dug through this 10K section.

Then, as I hit the 24 mile mark, the pain began to switch to elation. I, at that exact moment, was never so proud of a race effort, and I was overcome at the thought that I managed to get through this race and still do so under 10 hours. I began running faster. Corny as it may sound, but I felt goosebumps - which could have also been the dehydration, but no, I know it was from my sense of achievement. I saw Lisa walking up on the Queen K just at the top of Palani and she looked shocked. She said "oh my god, you are back here already?" My MyAthlete device shorted out in the energy lab for some strange reason and she and Brennan thought I was walking the remaining 8 miles. I just pointed at her and said "get to the finish line, it's time to finish this bitch!". I was flying down Palani as though i was sandbagging the first 24 miles but believe me, it was just from the endorphins off of getting through this amazing event. I saw a guy up the road running with an orange bracelet meaning he was in my age group and took off after him. I sprinted past two more young guys on Alii in the last .5 mile and as much as I savor this part of the race, on this day, I just wanted to finish. I crossed the line in 9:51 and all the endorphins tapped out as I all of sudden felt awful. Lisa and the holders walked me through the finish area chaos where I ran into Trephina Galloway, an Aussie doctor who was working the Med tent earlier in the day and also a friend who has attended a bunch of my camps. She was so kind in that a few days before, I told her I was going to try and find her at the finish to have her give me an IV. She waited at the finish line, maybe not for me, but she was there and brought me into the med tent for an IV and I'm extremely appreciative. Thanks Trephina, and thank god they didn't need my temperature. (the mouth thermometer wasn't working and another doctor wanted my temp and was insistent at first on doing it anally, no joke! I told her I was all of a sudden feeling fine, she caved and just gave me the IV.)

Based on my training, I was aiming for a low 9 hr race. I felt fit enough to knock of a 3:10 marathon. Based on the conditions, I was over 30 minutes slower than what I wanted and did one of my slower IM times, running the marathon in 3:35. Based on the race experience I had, it was my best IM to date. I really realized that an IM is about testing your will, about peeling back the layers so there is nothing for you to hide behind and you are left faced with the raw honesty of finding out who you are and what you are made of. Doing a fast time or a pr is just a bonus. You don't get this experience in shorter races.

I know I've been very lengthy and again, if anyone is still hanging in there reading this, thank you. I intend on writing a post race wrap up mainly because this blog has become my own personal journal. But again, thanks for reading and I hope it wasn't to boring thus far.

Cheers,

EH

Kona Report - the bike

So after speaking to quite a few people about the race, I’m even more content with my swim time. A few of the guys I spoke to were expecting to swim in the mid 50’s based on doing this time at IMLP and IMCDA and they came out in 1:01. I guess that return current did slow things down quite a bit.

I was really excited to be on my bike. I love my bike and I love riding, simple as that. I love the speed, the fact that you can explore and cover lots of ground, I love the tech aspect – the bike is easily my favorite part of the race. When asked what my strength is in triathlon, I usually respond that I’m kind of equal in all three of the disciplines. However, I think if I began at a young age with this sport or any of the disciplines individually, I’d have the most potential physiologically in cycling. This could just be my love for cycling speaking though.

The first eight miles of the bike course, in my opinion, are silly. The course zig-zags through Kailua doing a bizarre figure eight before climbing up Palani Hill and heading north on the Queen K. I much preferred the old course even with the two transition areas. This initial eight miles is actually quite hilly though and doesn’t allow you to get in any rhythm to soon. Funny, most that see the bike course for the first time are amazed by how hilly it actually is. Typically we just hear about the challenge of the weather conditions, forgetting, not discussing, or underestimating that there is over 4000 feet of climbing. I love the course though – the climbs suit my riding style extremely well in that they are the long, gradual constant rollers that I can power through.

Speaking of power, I had a specific plan for this race, and as I mentioned, the goal was to keep the ride effort on the comfortable side so that hopefully I’d be able to run well in these conditions. I set ceilings for my power output on the flats and hills and stuck to them. I certainly don’t think that a power meter is a necessity for IM racing, but man, it sure helps keep me where I need to be. If any of the number geeks are interested in what my specific power plan was or what numbers I averaged, I’ll put it out there.

Back to the race; I left T1 with a bunch of other athletes and some of these guys were taking off as though they were doing a sprint. A friend of mine came by me on the long climb up the kuakini highway at mile four and said “let’s go!” I told him to be patient, we were just getting started. I stuck to my plan and watched a bunch of athletes ride away – this is hard for me to let happen, so I was constantly reminding myself of my plan. I told myself that I’d see most of these guys later on and sure enough, I did.

The heat and humidity began really early on during the bike in comparison with other years. Yet, there was a pesky slight headwind as well once you got past the airport. I was alternating between EFS and water, sipping often and downing about 30 ounces per hour. In addition, I was taking a saltstick capsule every 20 to 30 minutes. I planned on using natural pop tarts on the bike for calories along with the EFS and cliffbars. This worked well in training. However, I couldn't find the natural poptarts in Kona, so I was using regular pop tarts (your physiology needs simple sugars and lots of calories during an IM). Lisa, who I call my coach, told me the day before that they were going to be to dry to eat during the race and she was right. Eating these, it felt like I had a mouthful of dirt. I tossed my pop tarts aside at the next aid station and quickly adjusted to a new plan – get in some coke at each aid station. I typically don’t start with coke so early in the race but why the hell not? It works well for me.

Probably 95% of the field was wearing aero helmets - even the athletes who were going to be out there on race day for 14 or more hours. I still believe this is stupid in Hawaii. You need the vents. A friend of mine who was racing said he wears it not so much for the aerodynamics but more so to keep the sun off his bald dome and neck. I wore my road helmet and was glad I did as I poured lots of water through it throughout the ride. Craig Alexander and Chrissie Wellington (the male and female overall winners) seem to agree with me as they were wearing standard road helmets.

As I climbed towards Hawi, I got a first hand seat of the pro race as the lead riders were coming the other way. Chris Lieto was off the front by maybe 45 seconds on a group of three that included Eneko Llnaos, Faris Al Sultan, and someone else. Then, a further minute back was the main group. These guys were all hammering! The pros start 15 minutes ahead of the age groupers and their plan is to really work the first half of the bike to get out ahead of the winds which typically pick up shortly after 9am. What was amazing was how close Chrissie Wellington was to the lead group of pro men, and how big a gap she had already had on the next women. Speaking of the pro’s beginning at 6:45am, I think this is wrong. This race has grown yet they are still trying to keep the main principals in place. The IM was always about everyone starting together, amateurs and pros and everyone racing the same course and the same conditions. Those 15 minutes makes a huge difference. Not that I am racing against the pros, just more so that it would make there race even more interesting. They began this 15 minute head start because a few of the female pros bitched about the contact during the swim from the amateur men. There were plenty of amateur women swimming near me during the race and didn’t seem to have a problem with the contact – as I mentioned in my swim recap.

I kept a very steady, controlled pace and went through 56 miles in around 2 hrs 23 minutes and I was thinking that I was going to have a sub 5 hr ride easily since the return trip is more downhill than up. Madame Pele had other plans as she shifted the winds soon after I reached the turn around and gave all us amateurs a nice, stiff headwind all the way back to the airport.

I went through Kawaihai on the return trip and was looking for Lisa – seeing her for the few brief seconds I get to during an IM race is really important to me. I don’t really know why other than the fact that she brings out the best in me. The picture above is me yelling to her that I felt great, which I did – the ride felt easy thus far. It really did, yet I could feel the heat and humidity and knew that I needed to stay very controlled. In fact, at about the 70 miles mark, Doug Clark, the guy who won my age group, came by and I had to make a decision; up my pace and go with him or stick to my plan. I stuck to my plan since the wind was also working us quite hard on the return trip and didn’t want to risk blowing up. Kudos to Doug who rode really well and ran even better.The ride from Kawaihai back to the airport had the strongest winds we'd encountered during this race, slowing things significantly. Kona is so strange in that once you got past the airport, this heavy wind all but disappeared.

The last 20 miles of Hawaii are so different, race wise, than the first 92. If you have ridden smart, you begin reeling in a lot of suffering athletes. It’s amazing because some of these guys looked so bad, I remember thinking what the hell were they doing? How could they be this far up in the race and pedaling so poorly now? It’s not like its one or two athletes, it’s a lot! There is a lot of drafting in Hawaii, yet the last 1/3rd of the race is usually quite honest. Everyone around me had salt caked up all over their uniforms. Most think that this means they are getting dehydrated, yet it could just mean that you are taking in a lot of sodium and your body is expelling what it doesn’t need. It doesn’t necessarily mean that you are in a hyponatremic state.

Around mile 100, I wanted off the bike. My legs still felt solid as well as my energy, and even mentally I was fine. My contact points though were beginning to ask for forgiveness. Contact points are the parts on you that touch the parts on your bike. It was mainly my feet and my arms. My ass was fine on the saddle – I wasn’t moving around too much looking for that comfy spot. But the bottom of my feet felt tender, mostly from being soggy with salt water and sweat and from pushing against the pedals. My forearms were tired of being in the aero position – on this course; I don’t leave this position much at all. My aero pads are really comfortable yet again, from sweating so much and pouring water over myself, this contact point gets irritated. Hawaii is a race where you race wet all day. You come out of the water and you never dry off because of the humidity. Then you sweat an excessive amount. On top of that, every five miles on the bike and every mile on the run there is an aid station and I would grab a water bottle each time and pour it through my helmet, squirt my face, empty it down my back and front in an effort to stay cool.

Rolling into T2, I mentally was in a good place. I enjoyed the ride, managed my reserves well and was actually enjoying the day thus far. An IM is more a test of will rather than a race (more on this in a future report). I felt that the test thus far was in displaying patience and racing smart. I hadn't reached any point yet where I felt like I was in a low spot and needed to search for the "whys" and convince my self to move onward. I wasnt even close to this point - yet anyways, I haven't finished my run report yet. In 2004, I got off the bike in T2 and knew in my first few steps running in transition that it was going to be a tough marathon. This go around, was the opposite. I swung my right leg back over my saddle as I rolled the last 20 meters into transition, leaving both my bare feet standing on top of just my left shoe now which was still attached to the pedal. A volunteer awaited my hand off as I hopped off and ran, letting my bike keep rolling right at them. My legs felt solid! Yet I still had a bit of a run left…

Kona Race Day Report - part I

God, what an experience Hawaii puts you through! Of the many times I've raced here, it feels as though I'm doing it for the first time once again - sort of. There are some memories that become ingrained like the fact that at some point, you are going to be in a really low place and this is when you will learn a ton about what you are made of. I have yet to do a Hawaii IM where I didn't struggle physically and mentally at some point. If someone says that they have raced here and everything went flawless and they felt super the whole time, I'm calling bullshit.


I slept well on the eve of the race. Lisa and I ordered room service, she was out by 7pm, I was out by around 8pm. I slept until 3:45am, waking up without my alarm, anxious to get the day started. Two bagels with peanut butter, a chocolate chip cliff bar, a banana, a glass of oj, and a cup of coffee, and breakfast was in me and I was on my way to the pier.


Check in, body marking and all the pre race protocol went smoothly, they really do an amazing job with the organization of this event. I met Lisa outside of the transition area, and applied about five layers of sunscreen. Seriously. You could feel and see the nervous energy around you. All the competitors had that look in their eyes that was half courageous and half timid. I'm sure I was one of them. It was humid already even though the sun was barely up. Humid to the point where sitting there doing nothing, you are still in a sweat. I thought it may have just been the pre-race nerves, but looking around at the perspiration on those not racing, it was evident that it was going to be a very sticky day.


I had re-evaluated my race day strategy and my new plan was to swim and bike easy, as though I were doing an easy training session. I had been in Kona for five days now trying to acclimate and it just wasn't enough time. i was mentally trying to convince myself all week that the heat wouldn't matter because I was more fit than ever, yet if your gut doesn't buy it... I was more fit than ever but I knew that I wasn't acclimating to the weather like I had in the past. i could just tell - it was similar to how I felt in St. Croix leading up to that race. Besides the exceptionally hot and humid weather and lack of winds that Kona was experiencing, the mild summer in CT certainly played a big part. All the pros and most of the top age groupers had been on the island for two weeks or more to adapt, and all the studies show that it takes a minimal of eight days to really begin to acclimatize to high heat and humidity. I couldn't get out here any earlier and so took a chance that I'd be fine. I wanted to start the run as fresh as possible, considering I had to swim and ride a bit beforehand. So the plan was to enjoy the swim and keep it easy, and set specific wattage ceilings for the bike course.

I downed a flask of ESF liquid shot for another instant 400 calories (I really like this stuff!), then gave Lisa a big hug and she began to well up as I made my way to the swim start. Funny, I hate to overdramatize things yet there is something about race morning of an IM that makes those around you very emotional.

I seeded myself in the front row, very far to the left, or outside line. The swim is a 1.15 mile straight out, swim .1 around some buoys, then 1.15 mile straight return trip. Ok, before describing the swim, first a brief synapses of my swim training for this event. I have often mentioned how I neglect my swimming and don't swim nearly enough. In the past, I'd cram for an IM swim and would try interjecting a lot of intervals into my sparse training. this would leave me flat because I never really established the seasonal base swim fitness to support this, and I'd work harder than I'd prefer to over the 2.4 miles on race day. So this time, I focused on longer, but easier distance. I did quite a few open water swims in LI Sound, and when in the pool, I focused mostly on form, efficiency, and feel for the water while aiming for 4000 yds. I swam twice per week for eight weeks leading into the race. I missed two weeks out because of this cold I contracted, but did swim four days during race week - four nice and easy swims. So now I'm treading water for 15 minutes waiting for the gun to fire as the competitors around me squeeze in closer and closer and inch further and further forward, kicking our legs as we try to stay afloat. I actually grabbed one European guy who was really crowding me and threw him as I scolded him. That bought me a bit more space from the others around me who witnessed this. We were all very anxious and our nerves were on edge making it easy to over react to small things.

Finally, the gun sounded and the mad frenzy of 1800 swimmers crammed into a small space and thrashing forward began. I swam straight forward and even though the plan was to swim easy, I thought I'd take the first 100 strokes fairly hard to see if I could get on some fast feet and maybe get some open water. I then settled in and focused on relaxing. I did swim easy effort wise, although I got the shit beat out of me through just about the whole swim. Everyone is so good at Hawaii and it never thins out. For 2.4 miles, you are constantly getting kicked, punched, swam over and pulled under. It's not that the competitors are doing this intentionally, everyone is kind of fighting for their own space. Yet everyone is also trying to follow someone elses feet and there is a constant fight for this. I do have to say though that the women are worse than the men in terms of fighting for space! They kick harder, scratch and seem to want to swim right on top of you. As much as I discussed my love of swimming at the pier during race week, it's as though you are swimming in a different place on race day and it's really not that enjoyable at all. You no longer are swimming smoothly looking at all the sea life underneath you but instead are thrashing and fighting, trying to keep some form. I do have to say though that effort wise, the swim felt smooth and easy and right on track with my race day plan. I'm a counter to pass the time and stay present, so I count 100 strokes on my right arm, 100 strokes on my left, ... Figuring the math in my head, i guessed it would take around 900 strokes to reach the turnaround and I was dead on track. Coming back was a bit more due to the reverse current. I never felt throughout the swim that I was tired and never thought much about what I still had left for the day - things I have done before in previous IM's and things that aren't productive. I exited the pacific in 1 hr and made my way through T1. There were a ton of athletes who came out between 59 minutes and 1 hr 1 minute making T1 frantic with energy. But, I had one leg down, and only two more to go and thus far, I was relaxed and actually enjoying the day! However, the swim is the easiest and shortest leg there was a lot of day left...

Brutal!

Well, it's not what I was hoping for time wise, but I'll take it all things considered. I did a 9:51 (was aiming for a 9:20). The heat and humidity just killed me. I swam and biked conservatively since I knew the run was going to be really hot (more so than usual here) and my legs felt good on the run at first but my body temp just kept rising and rising. The air temp reached 113 degrees in the energy lab during the race! At mile 11, I didn't know if I was going to be able to run (I walked up Palani) again. I just never felt like I was acclimating this week and it showed yesterday. The marathon was by far my hardest marathon to date, will and effort wise.

I'll write a full report when I get a chance but I need to try and get some sleep now. Thanks everyone truly, for all your support.

Cheers,

EH

Kona Report - Day 5

It's the eve of my big race and I just finished having my traditional pre-race dinner of pizza and a glass of red wine through room service with Lisa. That's right, Lisa got in last night and man was it great to see her.

I started the day with an early morning easy run here. I took my camera along and snapped some pictures.

It's quite easy to see why I love Hawaii so much.

This day before run is more important than most may think, at least for me anyway. It's a time where I sort my thoughts, relax, put things in perspective and convince myself that over thinking is wasteless at this point. No sense in over analyzing anymore. The coughs or small aches don't matter. The weather doesn't matter. What I did two minutes ago doesn't matter. Because it's now go time and I came here to participate in this race and that's exactly what I will be doing tomorrow.

I received countless emails and phone calls today - it was really quite special. I almost feel as though this is my first IM ever based on the support I've received. Thank you so much everyone. Everyone who sent me good vibes and nice messages, please no that i received them all and they were extremely appreciated. Jeff M. - great message you left for me. Thanks. Dad, your email was awesome - thank you. I have a lot of great friends behind me.

It's a privilege to be able to participate in this sport, and especially at this event. A privilege I don't take for granted. I plan on making the most of my day tomorrow. One of the overwhelming messages in many of the supportive emails I received today stressed the importance of taking in the experience tomorrow - not just the race. This is something that I needed to hear , because it's funny, I stress this message to my athletes yet personally I get caught up easily in the race. I'll be there to race tomorrow, and I will also be cognisant of taking in the experience.

I had to check my bike in today and grabbed it form the guys at Cannondale (below) before handing it over to T1.

Here's Murry, the ace mechanic, with my bike in the background.

I was thinking about the Tour De France today and how difficult this event is and also how they get three weeks worth of experience. An IM is only one day. It seems like such a daunting event yet think about it, it's just one day. How easy is it to waste a day away? And at the same time, think about what you could possibly accomplish in one day.

OK, Lisa and I will probably watch a mindless movie now and hopefully I'll drift off early. I have a 4am wake up call that begins my one day tomorrow.

Cheers,

EH

Kona Report - Day 4

I signed out of one hotel and checked into the other one today, where i will be spending the rest of my stay. Lisa comes in tonight and we like being out where we are, which is 30 miles from Kailua. It's a beautiful spot though, and I'm finally getting a chance to relax in my room here this afternoon after another busy morning. At the moment, I'm looking out the window at a palm tree that is still as can be. I've never seen this here before - typically, it's being blown towards the ocean from the trade winds coming off of Mauna Kea. It's just bizarre.

Below, you can see Baker floating around at Hapuna Beach. The shot below him is a view from the Queen K from my ride on Tuesday.

Not a bad view, eh? I love palm trees.

Below here, you can see that Molson made the trip out as well. Thanks for the support my man.

I took my camera out with me on my early morning swim today.

After my swim, I did an easy 40 minute ride to test out the Cannondale. Murry from Cannondale was once again the ace mechanic here. This guy is the man. As I brought him my bike yesterday, he had another bike on his stand that he was working on. He said "perfect timing" as he took that bike off the stand and put mine on and began working on it. the bike he took off was Chrissie Wellington. Faris Al Sultan brought his bike by later on for Murry to work on - Faris isn't even sponsored by Cannondale anymore yet he wants no one else but Murry working on his. Kind of cool and lucky to have this guy treating my bike and a peon like me just as important as these top pros. I'm not worthy.

I met up with Desiree Ficker at the MyAthlete booth at 11am where she hung for awhile and signed autographs. She was great and she's a magnet for getting people (funny, both men and women) into the booth. Speaking of MyAthlete, if you get bored on Saturday and want to see where I am on the course, you can track me here: www.MapMyAthlete.com/vemap.aspx?name=010129

I'm starting to get excited to race. At this point, I just want it here. I want to race, I want to be out there on Saturday which is good. At the same time, I'd be lying if I said I didn't want this to be over with. I look forward to lying on the beach on Sunday with Lisa.

First though, I have some exercise to do.

Cheers,

EH

Kona Report - Day 3

Race week should be relaxing, right? Staying off your feet, easy training, out of the sun, time to nap... I don't know what's going on here but thus far it's been anything but. I'm all registered though and as tempted as I was to represent Uzbekistan for the race, the IM organization corrected my citizenship status. So besides a few more minor obligations, I'm chilling out until Saturday morning.

What was relaxing initially today was my 6:30am 30 minute run from the hotel down into the pit and back. My legs felt good, and the sun wasn't full ablaze yet, so I was moving nicely. Supposedly the trade winds will be back this weekend, and I welcome them, because even the islanders here are complaining about the heat and humidity.

Working the Myathlete tent at the expo has been fun. It gives my mind a break from thinking about the race, and I get to talk to all the intense athletes, and more importantly, their families. The Myathlete device is small now - about the size of a 9 volt battery, yet the biggest "worry" from the athletes is the size and weight of it. I feel like asking them point blank; "Listen, are you gonna win the race? Are you even going to win your age group? Because if this isn't even a possibility, do you really think the small bit of added weight is going to matter?".

Speaking of weight, I was weighed in at registration and I'm over 9 lbs lighter than I was when I raced here in 2006. That was probably the last time I was on a scale.

Right after registering, I went for an easy 25 minute swim in the ocean. It was about 10am and the hoards were gone and it was really peaceful. Clay T. was telling me how swimming here freaks him out because the visibility is so good and it makes him nervous seeing everything below. I guess he prefers swimming in the six inch visibility of LI sound. I found a nice rhythm as the rolling gentle waves moved me around, making this swim relaxing to me.

Thinking about it now, the two times I was able to relax today was while training. I need to remember this on race day when I get into battle mode and where I can easily overwork it. My best results typically come when I can relax during a race.

Maybe I'm having a hard time relaxing not so much because of a busy schedule but more so from a bit of race nerves. I still have some slight congestion and as much as I try to convince myself that it doesn't matter, the fact is that I know that to do this race well, you need to be 100%. I go in and out of the race nerves throughout the day. One moment, I'm overly analyzing how I feel, the next I'm focused on how beautiful some parts of this island are. Even Alii drive which has become quite "commercial" - it runs right along the ocean, with the waves rolling in, and the black lava and white sand shining through the crystal clear water. Standing on Alii drive, you have the choice to focus on an outdated hotel or junky strip mall across the street or you can focus on the beauty of the ocean. Funny, that's the answer right there with my own race day nerves and over analyzing my cold. It's all about perspective. And as i tell my son, having some pre-game nerves shows that it means something to you. In fact, the day I am not a bit nervous before a big race is the day I hang it up. For awhile anyways.

Just finished a great sushi dinner and a large Asahi beer. Life is good.

Cheers,

EH

Kona Report - Day 2

Apologies for not getting this up sooner. The hotel Internet was on the fritz last night. I'll get two posted today to catch up.

Tuesday before IM is always a busy day for me. It's my last day of getting in a few longer sessions - long during a taper, yet short in relation to IM training.



The day began w/ a 45 minute swim at the pier. The water was calm today weather wise, yet turning w/ the energy of hundreds of triathletes. I'm standing here in the above picture looking serious post swim w/ my boy "hot shorts".



While making my way to Lavajava for breakfast, I ran into a bunch of CT friends randomly, including the twins John Wilson and Oakes Ames, Jason Weisberg, Mitch West, Scott Harrison, and Chuck Sperrazza. After shooting the shit briefly, I had to get jet in pursuit of some food before heading up to Hapuna to ride to Hawi w/ Mike Kane.

Kailua was overcast this morning, however, further up the Kona coast at Hapuna Beach, the sun was out in full force and it was hot! The plan was to ride out 1 hr 5 min then turn for a 2 hr total ride. I climbed easily towards Hawi at 19 to 20 mph thinking about the strangeness occurring. That strangeness was the fact that there was no wind! This is typically the windiest part of the course. Anyone that was there checking out Hawi got a false perception of what it's typically like. I for one know that the wind will be there race day and you know what, I kind of welcome it, because without the wind, it was sweltering. The humidity on the Kona coast is just brutal. You get used to walking around all swampy. I have to say that my biggest concern on race day is how I'll handle the heat and humidity this year. We had such a mild summer in CT and I do feel less acclimated than I typically would while out here. I felt strong on the ride however, and kept the pace comfortable with a few sections at IM pace. Towards the end of the 2 hr ride, I could feel the heat getting to me a bit. Staying on top of my hydration replacement on race day is going to be crucial.



I was riding with a local yesterday. Well, he was a young guy who moved to the Island from Montana three years ago after college because he fell in love with the island. He was racing and commented on how boring the course is. I told him that yes, it can be boring, however, i love looking off towards the ocean. I replied how he's jaded now and takes this for granted because he experiences it every single day. Many in life dream of moving to their favorite destination. It's interesting how quickly the image of their nirvana changes once they experience it regularly.



A short 20 minute transition run (my run legs felt great!) and I was done with my training for the day. I walked down to Hapuna Beach and floated around for awhile. I've never seen the water as clear as it was today at the beach, and it felt great just to relax for a bit.


As I rode today, I was thinking about "suffering" and how the key on any given race day is to work on mastering the art of suffering. More on this later.

The IM parade was last night and since they currently have me representing Uzbekistan in the official Hawaii IM information for this years race, I thought I'd march, however, promised Brennan I'd help out at the MyAthlete tent since the expo began right after the parade. I worked the expo for about three hours before joining Mitch West for dinner. It was a busy Tuesday. I hope that Wed, Thu and Fri are more relaxing, yet somehow, I doubt it.

Cheers,

EH

Kona Report - travel day(s)

Hawaii from the east coast is a long, long trip, but as I remind my wife, we are traveling to Hawaii, not Nebraska (no offense Nebraska, it's just not Hawaii).

Sunday began by loading up the car, including the family and heading out at 9am to JFK airport. Lisa and the kids were kind enough to drop me off and thankfully there was no traffic on this Sunday morning. Kate was hugging me so tight and had big crocodile tears flowing from her huge brown eyes making leaving for Hawaii almost seem wrong. I'm not good at the "out of site, out of mind" thing and pictured her along with Ryan who was welled up but trying not to show it for the better part of the day and night.

I used mileage to upgrade Lisa and I and was able to skip the long, long check in line, and even schmoozed the cute girl at ticketing to let my bike box packed to the gils and well over 50 lbs to travel for free. So far in this long day, so good.

My first flight to LA was uneventful. I watched a few movies including The Hangover in which the woman sitting next to me laughed hard at me laughing hard at the movie. The band camp girl from American Pie who's on that sitcom w/ Doogie Howser sat in front of me.

I had a brief 1 hr layover in LA, then on to Honolulu next. Again, uneventful besides sitting next to Gammy in row 1b who along with the trigeeks had on her compression socks even though she wasn't racing (one guy on the plane looked like he was dressed to race already! I guess you never know when the cannon may fire...) and who sucked down coffee the whole flight making her getting up to pee every 10 minutes, meaning consequently I'd have to get up and let her out every ten minutes. She was actually very sweet though and surprisingly, we talked quite a bit.

I cant sleep on planes. I don't really sleep well in general, so on a plane - forget it. I stepped off the plane in Honolulu at 8:30 Hawaii time or 2:30am et. My flight to Kona was delayed! These island hopper flights are always delayed because they basically have one plane per island that runs back and forth and gets backed up. I wandered around the airport looking for some edible food which is challenging, especially on a Sunday night when most things were closed.

I finally arrived in Kona at 10:30pm Hawaii time (4:30am et), and waited at baggage claim. And waited. And waited. Turns out that they held 80 bags and 26 bikes in Honolulu because of weight distribution on the plane. My bags wouldn't be there until the morning.

Picked up my rental car and checked in to the hotel at 11:20pm (5:20am et) w/ no bags and tried to get some sleep. Was up talking to Lisa at 2:30 am here, drifted back off around 4am, and awoke again at 6:30am. Anyway, it was a long trip, but as i told Brennan, "shit happens". And I'm in Hawaii.

I headed over to the airport after hitting Lavajava for some breakfast and my luggage was there. On the drive back, I stopped at the Pier and swam for 30 minutes.

This is when this trip to Hawaii really begins for me. Swimming at the pier in the amazing salt water with 100+ft visibility and fish swimming everywhere is therapeutic. It relaxes me and is one of my absolute favorite things to do. Amazing that all it takes is this first, easy swim to make me forget quickly about all the travel bs from the night/day before.

Now I just need to clear this cold out of me and all will be good.

OK, kind of a boring post, but I am on probably 4 hrs of broken sleep and promised to post daily, so I'll make a better effort tomorrow. I'm sure the next 24 hrs will be eventful.

Cheers,

EH

My Hell Yeah Hawaii Kit

www.hellyeahthreads.com

Hawaii Picks

Here's mine:

1. Craig Alexander - going out on a limb! I just cant see anyone matching his run.
2. Chris McCormick - will try to run with Alexander until the energy lab.
3. Eneko Llanos - this guy will either win it or be third. If he gets a gap on the bike...
4. Chris Lieto - he'll come off the bike with a huge lead but get run down.
5. Andy Potts - climbing the ladder

For the women, it's the Chrissie show. All the websites and rags keep trying to make a race out of it with the other women who are all fine athletes, but let's face it, she's in her own league.

School's In Session

My kids are back at school, meaning they are bringing home germs in abundance again. Both of them had the sniffles and coughs this past weekend, then Lisa began with the congestion, then yours truly. Extra forced rest during my taper with yesterday and today fully off from any training. I'm remaining calm though. I had an excellent build for this race and I'm not going to let a cold derail me. I'll get this out of my system this week - better getting this this week than next week. Time to pound some Nyquil.

Cheers,

EH

todays challenge

We live in a society that is more or less self absorbed. Our main concern is us of course, and in athletics as well as real life, we are typically focused on what we are doing and trying to do it well.

I have a pt client and friend who I have been working with first thing in the morning for a bunch of years now. I love the passion that he exudes – it’s contagious. Here’s a guy who loves movies so much that he will see three to four a week sometimes. But it’s the way he describes his passions that really captures me. He’s been playing a lot of squash lately, and he works with these three British instructors. They mentioned to him that they’d prefer working with an adult like him rather than the teens they often instruct. He asked me why this was the case and I told him that he subconsciously makes those around him better through his own actions. When he describes squash to me, his eyes become huge, he grabs the sides of his head and his face lights up as he proclaims how much he loves it. He mentioned how he always compliments the pros when they hit a great shot – this is a key point.

Another one of my long time pt clients and friend makes me want to be a better trainer. This 71 year old is so energetic and positive and appreciates any creativity I add to his regimen. I certainly don’t need any accolades however his excitement and responsiveness make me want to be better.

Recently, my son had a wiffle ball tournament for his birthday party. I was the designated pitcher and as such got an earful of fourth grade trash talking. On one of the teams was a kid who was striking out often and it got to the point that when he got up, his own team began taunting him with “don’t strike out again!” or “Can we have a designated hitter in his spot?” I paused the game and explained to these kids how these comments affected everyone, trying to get them to see things from the other kid’s shoes.

Speaking of my son, between his games and him watching the European leagues on cable, I’ve been getting an overload of soccer. I was watching a high school game recently between two very good teams. Although there was plenty of communication amongst the players, I rarely see the type of communication that ignites passion and makes those around them want to be a better player.

That’s the point of this article. Each day, every moment that we are around others, we have an opportunity to make those around us better. Next time you are out for a run with your training partner, compliment them, not patronizingly but sincerely. Tell them “man, you are really running well!” or “your form looks relaxed and strong.” I guarantee that this persons running form and pace will instantly get that much better. If you are a leader on a team, imagine how the team will react just by you energetically singling out specific good plays and complimenting that person. Again, the idea is to do so to make those around you better. Coming off a recent training camp, I was able to put the small group through one of the more challenging four day training blocks yet since putting on these camps, mostly due to creating an energy amongst this group that made them want to excel.

Make everyone around you better. A rare few do it subconsciously, yet we can all do it with a bit of thought and thoughtfulness.

Cheers,

EH

Maturing?

Running through the trails today on a crisp 9 miler, it came to me quite clearly why I feel rejuvenated in my quest towards Hawaii this year. Sure, I took some down time, but the real reason has to do with plain and simple maturity. God, I hate to admit it, but I think I might just be maturing.

When I first raced the Hawaii IM as a "kid" in 96', it really threw me. Not only physically, but I wasn't expecting to experience what I did experience. After coaching hundreds threw IM's, it's quite clear that this emotional suprise is a regular for first timers. Coming off of this high, we can easily go through some post IM depression. Sounds silly but there has been university studies on this, showing that it's a very common occurrence. Instead of dealing with the PIMD, I quickly committed to qualifying to go back in 97'. Same for 98', 99', ... You get the picture. In the 90's, I had way less priorities, so in addition to trying to hang onto this "experience", I was also trashing myself in training, learning first hand what to do and more importantly, what not to do, in pursuit of fast times.

As much as I respect this race, what made my six trips proceeding 96' was the fact that Lisa and I had an amazing time and we learned a lot about the amazing island. I guess that as much as I loved this race, I loved the island and the trip there with my wife that much more. I still never regretted the race - keep in mind that I said I loved the race. However, it was a love hate relationship for sure. I mean, this is a brutal race.

Back to the present, I no longer feel a "need" to get back there. I don't feel as though I'm trying to recapture something that defines me, like a high school hero 40 lbs overweight and 10 years out of school still reliving his glory years, or like a bride in a bad marriage still watching her wedding day video. I never let the IM define me - it was something I enjoyed and loved yet wasn't something that made me me. I am fired up that I'm going back to the Big Island, and energized at the thought of toeing the line once again. But it no longer feels like I'm doing it to relive something. Rather, it feels like I am going back there just to challenge myself and do something that I love. I don't know. Maybe I'm not maturing at all and I'm not making any sense. All that I know is that it feels different this year, I don't feel "obligated", and it feels right!

Again, we'll see how it pans out on October 10th.

Update To Kona Build

Yeah, I've been awfully neglectful here. Had a few people calling me out, so i guess there are some that read the jibberish. My apologies. It's been purely out of lack of time and not laziness.

I can't believe I'm 2 1/2 weeks out from Hawaii! Man the time went quick. I can honestly say that I had a great build for Kona, and more importantly, I feel good now. I didn't quite get in the volume I used to for this race, however I did get in the key sessions, and more importantly, they all went very well. We'll see how this turns out on October 10th.

So I just want to jot down a few key notes on this specific Hawaii build so that I don't forget them; Got the annual Vermont ride in with some good friends. Kept it comfortable and easy on the way up and still cruised along at a solid pace in the 90 degree heat and very high humidity and managed to run well off the bike up in Brattleboro. The ride home was interesting, to say the least, since I came down with a fever and stomach flu that many had at a get-together the night before heading up - I didn't eat or drink anything for nearly four hours of riding in the hot summer weather. Thankfully, this bug was a short lived one. I did some solid long runs w/ Chris T. including a quick 22 miler. Kenny O. kept me company on many of my long rides, and on labor day, when I was initially down because I was missing the 20K in New Haven to get in the priority of a long ride, this ride and brick run turned out to be one of my best bricks to date. I did some great open water swimming with Denny and have a new appreciation for the Sound. I just finished up my Fall CT camp where on Saturday, in beautiful cool weather, I took the smaller, adventurous group on probably the most challenging camp ride to date! Then yesterday we shot two more dvds up at The Bar.

There were many more highlights, but the bottom line is that I really enjoyed the process this time around due to taking some time off, paying more attention to my recovery, choosing new and adventurous courses, and who knows why else?

I have lots of thoughts to jot down - hopefully sooner rather than later. Spending a good deal of time training alone with nothing but your thoughts can create some interesting ideas. Either interesting or bizarre, none the less, I need to jot them down soon.

Cheers,

EH

salt water swimming and bored with my ipod

My 6am client was away today, so I met my good friend Denny White at Penfield Beach in Fairfield to get in a nice open water, salt water swim. The Sound actually seemed clean! I wore my new Nineteen sleeveless wetsuit which was soooo nice - I don't think I kicked at all with the lower body buoyancy this wetsuit offers. We dove in around 6:05 and the sun wasn't up yet. The salt water tasted great and reminded me that in four weeks I'll be tasting this again in the Pacific. The water was like glass this morning and I felt smooth in it. I breath to my right - this is how I learned to swim, so as I headed out, I was breathing to the east. Very soon, the sun began popping up over the sound - it was a bright orange and there wasn't a cloud in the sky. Man, what a great way to start the day. No jelly fish except for the smaller ones that don't sting.

I'm getting a bit bored with my ipod. I am asking for some comments here. What are you listening too? Some good stuff that has kept me rolling:

"Ain't no rest for the wicked" by Cage the Elephant - I like these guys. Not the same old bs you typically hear these days.

Anything by Lupe Fiasco - this guy is really good. You need to like rap a bit but open your mind.

"Tear You Apart" by She Wants Revenge - OK, disturbing lyrics, but the song makes you want to shift up a gear or three. Reminds of NIN.

So I need some more ideas. Again, I listen to anything, so please respond.

Cheers,

EH

Summer's Over

The summer is over, kids are back at school, everyones home from vacation, soccer weekends are starting up, and the cool weather is here, at least in the early mornings. Bring back that heat and humidity!

I have blogged very sparsely this summer, but will be more diligent now, especially since Hawaii is just five weeks away and I use this blog as a personal journal of my process.

I'm very pleased with where I am at in regards to peaking for Hawaii. I like to break down my self analysis into three major groups: A) physically - I feel solid during all my training sessions at the moment, getting the work done but also much more cognisant of my recovery and keeping the pace "right" according to IM training. I'm not getting in the volume I once did. My time and priorities now don't allow for it. But the key sessions are there and they feel right. B) nutrition - I'm 80/20 here. Eating the healthy stuff but also getting in my fair share of ice cream, beer and wine. My appetite is huge right now! C) mentally - I'm still very motivated and enjoying the process.

Ken asked me on one of our rides if I could distinguish between my IM races. I told him I remember clearly different key things from each one that I have done. I also told him how the last three that I did, I remember during my training thinking about treading water at the pier, waiting the 15 minutes for the gun to sound and for the day to begin and actually dreading that moment. Dreading wading there, getting kicked and thrashed by all the other nervous athletes jockeying for their key starting position, anticipating the long day and pain that lay ahead. This year in my build, I actually am excited about the thought of being there.

The best thing though is to have a clear and precise goal, and to have something I'm aiming towards. I have been placing myself on a schedule and it feels great to follow an organized plan that's taking me somewhere.

I did have to make a big decision about this weekend though which hurts, but it's the right thing. I will be at a soccer tournament that my son is in all day on Saturday and Sunday. I will wake up early and get my long run in on Saturday morning, however, I am going to miss the New Haven 20K Road Race on Monday - my first miss there in a very long time. I need to get in a long brick and Monday is the only day I can, so sadly, I'll be absent at the race.

Other sad news is that I have lost three more ipods this past week. Please, I'll be ok. I know, this is major. The problems we must face here in the US! I think that Apple sets these things up so that they die after one year of use. My waterproof one just made a popping sound and hasn't worked since, my other shuffle, i learned once again, is not sweat proof, and my Touch will only stay in the horizontal screen.

Cheers,

EH

hellyeahthreads.com

Annmarie Magliocco and Chris Oosterhout have started a very cool little business – check it out at www.hellyeahthreads.com.

Cheers,
EH

www.hodska.com

Kona - the build is on!

It's really been a great summer. I mean, it is what you make it - do you sulk about things and dwell or do you think about being progressive? And even though my Red Sox got their asses handed to them by the overweight, out of shape, fat ass Yankees, I know that there are still six games left against them and the Sox are 8-4 vs them this year. Again, focus on the positive. The only thing that sucks more than watching your team lose is watching your sons team lose.

I thought I'd post a very self-centered post and update on my Hawaii training. I went to Marthas Vineyard with the family for a week and figured I would take this as an off week and begin my Hawaii build when I returned. We had a great family vacation - and the bonus was that I did a fair amount of training. From 9am to noon each day, there was a "kids club" where we stayed - college kids that were camp counselors who organized fun activities for the kids. My kids loved it and so they participated in it each morning. Lisa would go out and exercise with her friend Jen, which left me to go exploring on my bike. In two days, I knew every road on the island. I did eat and drink a bit too much, but no worries.

Upon returning, I began my "real" build. I left at 5:15am on a long ride around Warmaug last Saturday. I met Kenny along the way who kept me company for it. Not only did I feel great, but I really enjoyed the ride. I finished up at 10am with the whole day ahead of me. The next day, I ran 2 hrs 15 minutes and again, felt strong and enjoyed the long run. My motivation is high and after racing IM's since 96' give or take a few years, this is a nicely accepted feeling. I've learned not to question it, although I feel that taking some down time, not over-racing, and getting beat at RI are the keys as to why I'm enjoying the process.

I've been deeply analyzing my previous Hawaii builds and had a discussion with Big Rocks today about this. As a coach, I often advocate "do as I say" rather than as I do. However, It's time finally for me to begin listening to my own advice. I've been laughing this off for years which is pathetic. The fact that I don't get much sleep and have limited time to train doesn't change anything. In fact, that's the situation of most of my athletes. I really feel that I have stood at the starting line in Hawaii a bit cooked, from a combination of training a bit to hard (not to much, but to hard), and not getting enough recovery/rest. Something I strive to avoid in the athletes I coach. It's not an arrogance that makes me think I'm different but rather an insecurity thinking about my goal for the race and the minimal amount of weekly time I'm able to train. So this build for Hawaii, I am going to really be cognoscente in sticking to the heart rate and power guidelines that I assign myself. I have found throughout the years of training that I respond better to lower intensity, B zone efforts anyways. I have been blessed with some natural power and speed and when I work this in training which is always fun, I wind up a bit cooked on race day.

The key point though with this post is that I'm on track, the hot and humid weather is here, and I'm lovin' every minute of it!

Cheers,

EH

hedging

This summer has been busy. I like that. I am uncomfortable when I'm not busy. The past few weeks have been particularly hectic, with IMLP followed up by a family vacation to Marthas Vineyard.

I went up to Lake Placid the Wednesday before the race, to meet with my athletes, help out some sponsors, and to kick off some of my own training towards Hawaii. I thought that this would be a good opportunity to get in some solid training on my own before heading away for a week with the family. I train alone maybe 95% of the time, however, up in Lake Placid it's just the opposite, as I'm usually there for my training camp or the race and training with others. This trip, I made no real commitments to train with others and have finally, after 20 years, realized that I prefer training alone. I enjoy the company of others, but I also like to escape with my ipod and just go at my pace, be it slow or fast, without feeling bad about slowing someone down or dropping someone.


Thursday in LP, I did a big training day including a swim in mirror lake, a 4 hr ride, and a 1 hr run. So it's no surprise that I awoke Friday a bit tired and sleepy. I rolled out of LP and down rt. 86 around 6:45am, yawning and hedging. Hedging is something that Jeff and I have discussed quite a bit and basically, it's making excuses. I talked at dinner the night before about how maybe I'd ride up Whiteface in the morning, and now, as I rolled down towards the climb early in the morning, I was rationalizing why I didn't need to climb it. "it could rain - it always rains on this climb and I've done the wet, cold, hypothermic thing before and don't need to do it again" was what went through my mind first. "you had a solid training day yesterday and could probably use the recovery of an easier day today" was next up. "you got off to a later start and need to be off the mountain by 8:30am which will be cutting it to close. Plus, you have downhill practice with your athletes at 10am and you'll be climbing rt 73 pre-downhill practice which is tough" was another hedge floating through my noggin. "Hawaii is still a good ways off", "You've done this climb a bunch already", "you're not dressed properly for the weather up top", and then finally as I approached the left turn off 86 signifying the start of the climb, "just ride up to the tollbooth (3 miles of the 8) and make the right turn off there" was the hedge I had settled on. So I turned on my ipod with a playlist I made specifically for this day of riding, and began climbing. As I climbed the initial 3 miles, I continued to hedge with things like "you are making the right call, your legs are a bit tired today", "you still have a big day planned for tomorrow, so riding just to the tollbooth and is clearly the right thing", "look at that cloud circling the peak like a donut - man, you know it's going to be wet and cold up there!". And then, as I approached the right hand turn just before the toll booth that takes you off the Whiteface climb, I instead just kept climbing. I settled into a rhythm and just blanked out my mind. I didn't hedge anymore. In fact, I didn't even think much. I looked off the mountain at the scenery and just pedaled.


It was quiet and peaceful, yet errie since there was absolutely no one on the road. I climbed well and tried to stay as relaxed as possible as I pushed. At the 6 mile mark, I began climbing through the donut cloud circumferencing the peak. At the 7 mile mark, I popped out of the cloud and the sun was out. I was actually above the cloud and still ascending and it was amazing. I had the views of the cloud directly below me and past the cloud, it was sunny and beautiful and the views were the best I have ever witnessed up on Whiteface. I hit the top in 56 minutes from the start of the climb, drenched in sweat from the humid conditions, slightly chilled from the drop in temperature at this elevation, and smiling ear to ear. I remember clear as day now, two weeks later, pausing there for a moment and feeling at peace - not because of the views or the fact that I just rode up Whiteface, but because there was no more hedging going on. It was now 8:20am, and they want you off the mountain on bike, past the toll booth, by 8:30am, so I began my descent. At 8:30am on the nose, I slipped under the toll booth. Funny, writing this now, I feel like a tool for all the hedging that I was doing prior to my ascent.

Two days later I watched the race and thought about my ride up Whiteface as I watched many athletes, some of those I coach included, struggle with the Ironman. One of my athletes (he's cool with me mentioning this) was so nervous that for the two weeks prior to the IM, he was only sleeping maybe two to three hours each evening. The first couple of days he fell short on sleep because of nerves, I discussed with him his "race". I mentioned how he's not a pro, feeding his family based on his result. How his family would love him just the same, regardless of how he did, and reminded him of his training and of some key sessions that he had done. It doesn't matter what someone else tells you though, unless you yourself believe it. He continued to not sleep from the nervousness of race day approaching. I then told him he needed sleep so to try taking something to assist, like Tylenol PM. This didn't work for him. Finally, I met with him two days out and he just looked exhausted, yet I told him he'd be fine and to go do what he trained to do. He was worked up enough already and the writing was on the wall. He had a difficult time elevating his heart rate into his aerobic racing zone, and dropped out in the run. He questioned me as to why he couldn't elevate his heart rate. I explained that he was simply exhausted - that during his taper, when he was to rest and absorb, he was doing the opposite. He began the race in an exhausted state. It's something we all can learn from, myself included. He couldn't stop the hedging and it got the best of him on race day. His hindsight perspective is interesting and very well adjusted.

Straz was telling me about a race report he read from an LP athlete who made it through 70 miles of the ride and dropped out due to "severe dehydration, internal bleeding, and bleeding from his eyes"!!! I've got to call bs on this one. Unless you haven't trained for an IM, how do you get to the 70 mile point of the bike in this condition? The point being that many of the physical conditions we experience in IM are a result of our brain.

So what's the lesson here? You can reiterate positive affirmations but if your conscience doesn't buy it, they won't help. One of my athletes once mentioned, "when I look in the mirror, I don't see an athlete having a strong day" even though he trained amazingly well. Basically, your gut needs to buy what your mind is selling. I tend to remind myself in the days/weeks leading up to a race to keep it simple. It's really just swim, bike, run. Pretty simple activities. Don't over think it and make it more than it needs to be or should be. Yes, finishing an IM is a huge deal and can even be life changing to many. That doesn't change the fact that it's as simple as moving from point A, the swim start, to point B, the run end. I guess that the focus during race week should be to remind ourselves of all the days, weeks, months of training that we put into getting us ready for just one day. After all, it's the cumulative effect of all this training that sets us up to accomplish what we want to do realistically on race day. Maybe realistically is the key word here? With the proper, positive mindset, and the proper pacing, IM race day should become a celebratory finale of our training cycle. Maybe proper pacing is the key words here? I certainly have fallen victim to doing the opposite. It's a very fine line, because you never want to finish feeling like you could have gone a lot faster, right?

Cheers,

EH

Guest Blogger - Big Rocks on RI 70.3

RI 70.3 from Big Rocks

Ironman races can bring out the best in people. We arrive at Roger Williams State Park for the swim just before 5:00 am. The sky is just beginning to lighten and the wind is really whipping. I remember as I got out of the car that if the wind was that strong here in the parking lot I wonder what the water was like. As I walked toward the beach I could see the white caps on top of four foot swells and thought that it was going to be an interesting start of the day.Spectating an Ironman event be it a full or 70.3 is a test of patience. A quality that those who know me say I sorely lack. There is always a lot of nervous energy before the race and today was no exception. Since there was a storm the night before that moved the swim buoys the race start was delayed 15 to 20 minutes while they were repositioned. So, in addition to normal race jitters, people had rough water, plus a delay and if you were unlucky enough to be seeded in the 12th swim wave, nerves were being pushed to limits. The race officials decided that since the rough water conditions were not going to change they offered an out for anyone not wanting to do the swim. If you opted out of the swim you could race a duathlon that would not count in the final standings. To the credit of the 1200+ racers there, only about 2 or 3 people elected not to swim. Maybe, they were the smart ones. I don’t know how the officials decide on the swim waves. I know you want to get the old people (slow swimmers) in the early waves so they don’t hold up the race, but deciding to seed the 18-24 year old men in the very last heat was just plain cruel. These young studs were raring to go and had to wait almost an hour to start their day. Puzzling.Surprisingly, given the rough water conditions the swim seemed to go smoothly (no pun intended). The many swim waves created a lot of open space so it appeared that untypical of an Ironman race, you had a lot of open space to swim. The waves also favorably played out during the bike portion of the race since there appeared to be less drafting and pack riding which has become the standard for most races these days, unfortunately.After Eric’s wave entered to water, Gus and I positioned ourselves near the roped off section where the swimmers exited the water. Our job for the swim was to determine how far behind Bruce Gennari, Eric would be after the swim. Given that Bruce can beat most pros at Hawaii the question was how big a hole would Eric have to dig out of after the swim. If you have ever watched hundreds of swimmers all dressed the same exiting the water you know how confusing it can get. I estimated that Bruce would be finished with the swim in 22 minutes (he did 21 so I did not see him come out of the water). The good news was that Eric had an excellent swim. The bad news was that he was almost 6 minutes behind Bruce. Six minutes in a 70.3 is a huge amount of time to make up against a top all-around competitor like Bruce.Usually, I like to hop in the car and follow the riders along the bike course but the layout of the route in RI made it difficult. The first part of the bike where the riders exited the transition was closed off to traffic. Plus if you were exiting the parking lot in a car you had to drive in an opposite direction to the bike course. Since Gus and I did not have a good map of the course, plus it was almost an hour ride by car back to the run transition in Providence we decided to head back to the transition area and catch up with Eric there.
Gus had his mountain bike with him and decided to follow the runners out on the course. Since the run was a double loop through the city it was great to keep track of the runners on the course. I waited at the bike to run transition and when I saw Bruce G. rack his bike and head out on the run I started my watch. Several minutes later Eric came in and as he exited to the run course I looked at my watch and yelled out 4 minutes. The good news is Eric had picked up two minutes on Bruce during the bike. The bad news is that he was still behind by 4 minutes. The Providence run course is probably the best place to spectate a run since the double loop goes through the city in such a way that once you figured out the short cuts you could spot your runner six or eight times during the run. Up to this point the weather was very favorable with a cloud cover. As the run started the sun broke through and it became hot and humid. I positioned myself at the bottom of the long downhill and when Bruce went by I started my timer. As Eric approached I could not believe it. He closed to within 2 minutes 20 seconds with one loop of the run to go. I decided to stay where I was and wait for both Bruce and Eric to come back from the turn-around before calling out the next time differential.The time difference between Bruce and Eric was approximately the same 2 minutes 20 seconds and both of them had that locked-in look that neither was going to give an inch. Now, I have to confess something here. I actually lied to my son! When Eric came by I yelled out “2 minutes 15 seconds”. I didn’t even know it was coming out. I felt I needed to dangle a carrot out there to keep Eric moving. As he went by it seemed to be working because appeared to pick up the pace. It was getting exciting.I ran toward the finish and positioned myself near the chute, and then realized that the race finishes by the runners turning the corner and running about ¼ mile uphill to the finish. I decided that if I could get down to the corner and if Eric was close enough to Bruce he would have a final ¼ mile to catch him.I saw Bruce coming toward me and he was looking behind him for Eric quite a bit. As he started up the final hill he kept looking behind him. I thought that too bad Eric couldn’t close the gap when all of a sudden here comes Eric like a bat out of hell within less than a minute behind Bruce. So the three of us are running up the hill and that is the way we finished. Bruce then Eric about 40 seconds behind then me telling Eric too bad the run didn’t go another mile because as Bruce knew, Eric was going to catch him.You know, I got so caught up in the race within the race that I lost focus of many of the other people out there which was fine since the Bruce/Eric duel in RI was a blast to watch. When I spectate an Ironman race I need to get involved. By that I mean that unlike some people who plant themselves in one spot and stay there drinking beer the whole day, I have to move around. I usually pick out a couple of racers to follow and find myself getting so caught up in the action and emotion of the race and the athletes that I don’t even realize where the time goes. This sport can be appreciated on so many levels and if you find yourself spectating instead of racing get involved. You will enjoy it a lot more.

RI 70.3 part two

I think that one race spot many triathletes ignore are transitions. It’s important to have a plan and practice this plan before you race. I lost a race once in transitions. If your transitions in a ½ IM are more than two minutes, you are doing something wrong. The same if they are more than three minutes in an IM. I decided to put my shoes on in transition since I didn’t get a chance to check out the bike course. Actually, I was lazy and didn’t take the time to check out the bike course. As I always say as a coach, do as I say, not as I do. I hopped on my Cannondale and weaved quickly around the many triathletes that think they know how to mount their bikes with their shoes attached to the pedals but actually have no clue here. I got down into my aero bars, locked into my power meter, and got to it. The bike is where I have the most confidence, and I was excited to be not only in this leg, but back in a race. The first ten miles were flat and very fast with a slight tailwind. I remember thinking that I was going to be around 2 hrs for the bike because the whole bike course has to be flat, there aren’t any hills in RI. Man, was I wrong. Ten miles in, you head more inland and the rollers start. Nothing bad – in fact, I stayed aero and in the big ring throughout the whole ride. But they never let up. You were constantly going up or down. I like this type of course a lot! Starting in one of the last waves, my age group had a lot of traffic out there. Weaving through all the riders slows things a bit, but it’s equal for my true competitors which are the ones in my age division. I did not see a lot of drafting which was refreshing. My legs felt good and I focused on finding a rhythm. I think this is really important and often ignored when racing. The easier and quicker you can find a rhythm, the more relaxed you will become, allowing your physiology to do its thing.

Around 25 miles in, I got complacent. This is where the lack of racing the past two years affected me. I locked into a pace that was a bit too comfortable for a ½ IM. I stayed at this effort for way too long, and it’s easy to reevaluate now but the truth is, I stayed there thinking that if I upped it a bit more, I might blow my run. After taking last year off from racing, I was guessing again where I should be – something that’s easy to figure out from racing four or five times in a season. My wattage dropped by about 20 watts on average and I stayed here until the 40 mile mark. I then snapped out of it – it was as though someone slapped me in the face as I thought “this is a ½ IM idiot, not a full IM!” I brought the watts back up and stayed here until the last six miles of the race. The first 50 miles of this course were just great. Scenic, nice roads, rolling hills, - just great. The last six suck. As you get into Providence, the roads are all broken up and there were lots of turns. If anyone does this race next year, plan on riding a bit harder the first 50, knowing that you will have to ease up on the last six.

My plan for the ride was to hold 315 watts on the flats and stay below 400 watts on the hills. I finished with a normalized power of 327 watts, good for 2 hrs 19 minutes for the 56 miles.

All that I had to do in T2 after racking my bike was remove my helmet and slip on my running shoes and I was gone. As I ran out of T2, my dad was yelled out “four minutes!” I knew that this was how far behind Bruce I was. I had only made up two minutes which for a second bummed out, and then I shouted back to Big Rocks “I’m going to get him!” My legs felt ok, but my breathing was excessive for the first ¾ of a mile, almost as though I was hyperventilating. I slowed, trying to gain control, knowing that I was going to hit the big hill very soon. This hill is long and steep, and you have to do it twice. I kept my stride shortened on the hill and tried to stay relaxed and not feel too much “burn” in the legs. Cresting the top, you have a slight downhill and roll through an aid station where I grabbed some sponges, than some water, then some coke. The first three miles, I was stuck in the same conservative wussy mode that I got caught up in during the middle of the bike. Again, I was over thinking it, telling myself to relax too much because I was concerned about blowing up. Then again, again, at the three mile mark, I felt the imaginative slap and thought “this is a race damn it!” I saw Gus who was on his mountain bike and asked him to get some splits on my competitors. About four miles in, my legs felt good, my breathing was controlled, and I was running. I was pissed with myself at this time for being “lazy” in the first three miles, but then reminded myself that I couldn’t change what’s done and the race is still going. There is a lot of self talk during a race – at least for me. The run was two out and back loops, and I was looking for Bruce on the other side of the road returning. You’d think at 6’3” he’d be easy to spot, but I couldn’t see him anywhere.

Around the five mile mark, I remember catching a team psycho member with a 60 on his calf (His age group left in the third wave). About 20 meters in front of him there was a guy with a 61 on his calf. I said to the team psycho guy “you’re running well, pace off of that guy” pointing to his competition just ahead. He replied “I’m gonna pass that fucker!” I laughed and moved on. My quads didn’t feel that bad on the downhill back and I thought that I didn’t work it enough. About a ½ mile from the end of loop one, I saw my dad again and he yelled “2 minutes 20 seconds!” I was closing in, yet I still couldn’t see him coming back the other way? I hit the turn and began loop two and Big Rocks yelled “2 minutes 15 seconds”. He later told me that during this mile, from mile 6 to mile 7, I actually didn’t make up any time on Bruce, yet he wanted to keep me positive. Good stuff!

The hill was crowded now with athletes on their first loop. I’d guess maybe 80% of the field walked up this hill. I continued on hitting every other aid station with water and coke, and using wet sponges to douse myself with at every aid station. Around mile 10, I upped the pace thinking that there was only a 5K left, most of it downhill, and don’t leave anything on the course. Two pros locked on my heels as I passed them and stayed there for a mile before I know longer heard the slapping of their soggy shoes. I smiled, tasting a small bit of pride here. Its fun and funny thinking back about the small little defeats and victories we go through during a race. At the 11 mile mark, Gus told me Bruce was 90 seconds ahead. I pushed a bit harder. As I ran up the hill in the last mile to the state capital building, I finally got a glance of Bruce, less than a minute ahead. He turned around immediately after crossing the finish line and gave me the man hug as I crossed. He told me that he was hiding behind all the other athletes on the course when he was near the turnarounds so that I wouldn’t see him – a really smart strategy. Big Rocks was there and said “if you had one more mile…” I cut him off saying “yeah, but it’s a 13.1 mile run, not a 14.1 mile run.” Bruce deserved this win – he raced great. I was proud of my race with the exception of the middle portion of the bike and the first three miles of the run. I did however negative split my run in a big way.

I was nervous before the race and that’s a good thing. That tells me that racing still means something to me. That I still desire the competition. I don’t take for granted how fortunate I am to have found this passion, or the fact that I have a bit of ability. It felt great to be back on a starting line.

And I’m going back to Kona.

For those considering this race for next year, I'd highly recommend it! I thought it was a great, honest course, and extremely well organized.

After getting my Kona slot, we blew out of Providence skipping the awards to get a jump on the traffic. On Tuesday, I was working on my computer and the ups truck delivered a package which my son intercepted. He opened it up and was showing his friend Will the trophy I had won. I eavesdropped on them, proudly listening to Ryan brag about my race day to his friend. Will said with enthusiasm to Ryan, “Wow! He’s really fast!... Especially for an old guy!”

Cheers,

EH

My RI race, part 1 (not that I want to drag this out...)

...but it was getting lengthy and I'm done for the day.

Triathlon is pretty simple. The gun goes off, you swim, change quickly, bike, change quickly, then run. I don’t know what it is about this simplistic sport that draws me in so much. I’ve pondered this over and over, searching, and maybe even creating some reason. The bottom line is that I love it, simple as that, simple as the sport is. Maybe I’m just simple?

The skinny: I had a big breakfast. I swam 27 something, biked 2:19 something, ran 1:26 something for a 4:16 w/ transitions. I drank my calories on the bike and used water and coke on the run. I loved the course. The race was very well organized. I didn’t think there were any hills in Rhode Island. My Nineteen wetsuit felt great, My Cannondale Slice was amazing, I saw really well through my Oakleys, and the hammer nutrition products were just right. After a year off, it was great to be back on the starting line. I’m going back to race Kona.

If you don’t want to hear any of my personal emotions on this day, then you can stop reading now. Once again, this blog is my personal journal and I want to mark down some things to remember this day.

The last time I raced was Clearwater in 2007. I did the Lake Warmaug sprint and the NYC marathon in 2008 – both great and different races, but they were more spontaneous fun than setting a goal, training specifically, going through the process. I enjoy the process of training towards a goal. So as I drove up to Rhode Island Saturday morning, Big Rocks riding shotgun, I thought about the fact that I’ve had a lot of downtime. I wondered if I had lost that edge.

One thing I knew is that I was going up to this race for a reason – to get a Kona slot. I last raced in Hawaii in 2006. In 2007, I went out to the race to work it for MyAthlete. I remember standing on Palani Hill as the athletes ran by, thinking “man, am I glad I’m not racing this year!” I went back out last year to work it once again for MyAthlete, and standing on Palani Hill, watching the athletes run by, I thought “fuck, I wish I was racing!”. I had the itch again, but also new my priorities in life are way different now. The thing is, I also feel I could race well on limited training. I wouldn’t want to go there if I couldn’t race it. I have no desire to do an Ironman just to cross the finish line. That’s a great goal for your first IM. So I sat down with Lisa and asked what she thought about going back to Hawaii in 2009 if I qualified. I still recall her response clearly of “you better qualify bitch!”.

This Spring has been very busy. I have the tendency to burn the candle a bit too often and found myself run down and sick through a good portion of June. My training for RI wasn’t optimal by any means, yet I still had the sense that I could put it together, and I had confidence in getting a Kona slot. Not cockiness, but confidence. I think that if your goal is to get a slot for Hawaii, you have to show up at the qualifier confident that the slot is yours, and yours to lose. If you go there thinking “I hope I get a slot” then you don’t stand a good chance. Just my opinion, but hope doesn’t show signs of confidence. “Hope” is what you do when something is out of your control.

OK, back to the race. My manager (my dad) and I had a nice day on Saturday. We got up to Providence early, got all the registration and pre race BS done, had some good meals, … Not much relaxing time and it seemed like we walked a ton, but it’s a gift to have the opportunity as an adult to do things like this with your father and I don’t take it for granted. I ran into Bruce Gennari from Nashville in front of our hotel. Bruce is an amazing athlete, a hell of a nice guy, and who I thought would be my biggest competition in my age group on Sunday. Bruce is an amazing swimmer. He’s been first out of the water in Kona overall before in 46 minutes and he can ride and run as well. In fact, he’s been the overall national triathlon champ before. Bruce and I have been racing each other for a long time now. Having a competitor like this certainly brings out the best in you, and our race on Sunday wouldn’t disappoint.

Sunday wake up call was at 3:15am. We had to be in Narraganset for bike check in before 5am. Gus came up to spectate and joined us for the trip to the swim start. It was great having him here as well. It’s always cool to have good energy around pre race. Gus has a little race coming up in two weeks that he’s primed for and I think that being up at this race may give him the extra bit of motivation he needs to have that exceptional day. I ran into a bunch of familiar faces at the swim start including some of my athletes. The wind was really blowing and the water was extremely choppy, leaving most that I ran into very nervous. Most except for Bruce G. who was hoping for tough swim conditions so he could capitalize even more on his strength.

My age group was the 12th wave, going off 50 minutes after the mail pro’s begun. Not the best situation but what are you gonna do? I lined up direct center in the front of my wave start right next to Bruce. The swells looked huge! A friend in my wave spotted me and asked what I’m doing here racing. I asked what he meant? He said “I thought you weren’t racing much nowadays?” I replied “they got some Hawaii slots at this race and I’m getting the itch again.” Bruce mentioned that he wasn’t going for a slot, but I still was racing for first regardless. Then, quickly, the gun fired and we charged into the surf. I ran in through some breaks and watched as most to my sides hit it and began stroking. I continued to take a few dolphin dives since it was shallow and gained a body length on everyone. It was short lived though as Bruce came by. I thought “get on his toes and hold for as long as possible” which lasted for all of five seconds – and that’s being generous. Soon, very soon, he disappeared into the huge surf. I was still all alone out there. No contact from other competitors which is always nice. The ocean was rough though – maybe the roughest open water race swim I’ve ever been in. You’d be sitting high on top of a wave, and then drop deep into the swell before crashing into the next wave. This lasted the whole way out. There was another swimmer swimming parallel to me on the way out. I put in some stronger efforts and he stayed right next to me. I could see I wasn’t going to pull ahead, so instead, I actually dropped back behind him. The pace felt easy although each time I tried to break around him, it felt tough. So I stayed relaxed and let him set the pace. Coming back into shore, if you timed it right, you would get a nice push form the incoming rollers. The rhythm of these rollers was not consistent however. Anyways. After getting tossed around and drinking a lot of salt water, I ended up on shore in 27 minutes. Not bad considering I swam eight times since last October. But pathetic considering Bruce put 6 minutes into me in the swim. Six freakin minutes!!! He had the fastest swim of the day swimming 21 minutes!!! I had my work cut out for me for the next two legs…

mission accomplished

I'm goin back to Kona!

Sport and Rec

Sport, and the recreation that we pursue, be it as children or adults, is a great indicator towards our true personality. Some things can certainly change throughout time, as some stay the same. For example, I hate to lose, always have. I didn't grow until I was a freshman in college and was insecure. Combine that with a late start into athletics and I thought I was always a below average athlete. Once I grew and became smarter and realized that I had some ability, my insecurities disappeared and my confidence grew. Sport taught me how to get along with others. How to adjust and adapt socially. It taught me discipline and how to set and achieve goals. I have learned so much threw sport and recreation that have molded the person I am today. But if you want an accelerated course in learning a person, whether they are timid or bold, adventurous or safe, fun or boring, honest or bullshitters, spend a day training with them. It's something more business people and people getting involved in relationships should do.

Cheers,

EH

Busy times...

Or just not in the blogging mood. Actually a combination of the two. It was a beautiful weekend, I'm feeling healthy, the Tour has begun, ... Life is good.

A bit late now for the remaining LP recap. Let's just say that the camp was challenging, hard, and fun. We rode a lot, we ran a lot, we swam a lot, and we laughed a lot. All the things that a camp should be.

I need to get back on track with this stupid blog this week. because it's been a great personal journal for me and I should be recording some of the stuff that's been taking place as of late.