Treading on Fat Ice (sorry, best I could think of)

I have not been good about training for the past...oh... 6 months. I am signed up for the Rock & Roll Pasadena Marathon in February, and I am pretty far behind. For one thing, I've gained over 20 pounds this year. To be fair, a year ago I was doing Kona so my body weight was a bit artificially low but in all honesty I didn't drop a ton of weight for Kona to begin with.

My friend Danielle is also signed up for Pasadena, so she suggested she come over and we could use the two treadmills in my condo gym and motivate eachother for a workout. 

We got on our two machines and she started going and I - well, the machine just felt funny. It was like the belt was slipping or something. I stepped off, cranked up the speed and it looked and sounded like it was working perfectly. I lowered the speed again, stepped back on and the thing just ground to a halt.

So I'm not sure what to think, but the circumstantial evidence is that I'm too fat for the treadmill and I broke it. I went back upstairs and ate the frosted Christmas cookie Danielle brought over to thank me for letting her use the treadmill.

I'm overweight and eating cookies instead of running. This is why it's tough to get motivated. 

Sign of the Times

When we were in Canada, Ironman-spectator-virgin Brian wasn't sure how to cheer. He asked Steve, "there are probably going to be a bunch of guys named Steve racing - what should we yell out when you pass by so that you'll know we're screaming for you?" (yes, he really asked that.) Steve said "I want you to yell 'Fuck you, Steve!'" (yes, he really said that.)

Wiser heads prevailed, and we stuck with the generic "GO STEVE!" when we saw him.

But that was Ironman Canada. For the Ironman World Championships, I wanted to make sure Steve was as comfortable as possible, and tried to give him anything he wanted. So I made him the sign he didn't know he asked for:



I'm a little disappointed in the fabrics - they looked a lot more contrasting in the store, and I thought it would be much easier to read. But perhaps in this case, a little subtlety worked out for the best. The sign did have a huge flap that covered the top half with the the word "GO" for those times when I wanted to stay family-friendly (which was pretty much all day.)

A few years ago I made a sign for Heather that said "Aero, Bitch, Aero!" and I thought THAT was offensive. I guess Steve just brings out the worst in people. (It is one of my prouder signs!)

Trash Talking, Kona style

It can be tough to talk smack when you're not a fast racer, but that's all part of the Bro Code. You HAVE to talk some smack, right? I knew Steve would have a much faster time than me in Kona, so my trash-talking strategy was to undermine the race itself.

The weather in Kona leading up to the race was unseasonably cool. Macca himself had been tweeting about how pleasant the conditions were. So I made a point to make sure Steve knew how easy he had it this year, unlike the tortuous conditions I had in 2010 (which, admittedly, were actually milder than normal.)

Steve and I saw Macca at the expo, and Steve told him "I saw your tweets about how good the weather is this year." Macca replied in his thick Aussie accent, "yeah, it was much hodder last year." I told Steve "See?! Macca says it was harder last year!" Steve said "no, he said it was hotter, not harder." I disagreed: "He said 'Harder!'" "No, 'Hotter!'" "Harder!" "Hotter!"

Regardless of what Macca truly said, I think hotter means harder anyway, so I declared victory.

In terms of actual race-day conditions, some things are tough to compare. I don't know what the swim currents were like this year. We both had winds on the bike, but I don't know the actual stats. There is something called the "radiated heat index" which I heard was 127 last year and 135 this year. It would imply the bike was hotter this year, but I have no idea when or where those readings were taken year-to-year.

What I am convinced of - without question - is that the run weather was much cooler this year. It was pretty overcast, and at times it looked like it was going to rain. It was very good running weather as far as I'm concerned.

In conclusion, if I had the nice cool weather they had this year, I would have easily shaved 10 minutes off my run. And then Steve would have beaten me by only 50 minutes and I would have beaten the spread. So there.

2011 Kona Spectator Report

We had a good support group to watch Steve and Gary race Kona: me and Laura and Teresa and Sue and Steve's dad and brother Dave. (Dave is quite the swimmer himself, and won a pair of goggles from the "coffee boat" by diving down 30 feet and grabbing some coral from the bottom. He blew out his eardrum, but hey... Free Goggles.) On race day, we met up with Steve and Gary around 5:45am, and I think I was more nervous they were. Perhaps they are simply better at hiding it. Lots of hugs, lots of sunscreen, then they left for the race.

Most of our cheering squad went up to the hotel room to watch the race start since it had a good view of the water. I stayed down on the ground so I couldn't see anything but it was still fun to be a part of all the activity.

I saw Steve start out on the bike but somehow missed Gary. Fortunately, the bike course loops back after about 10 miles so we were able to catch them both as they climbed the small hill on their way out to the Queen K. They were both smiling and looked like they were having a great time.

I can't say the same thing a few hours later when we saw them coming back on the bike. Gary came in first, and the best word I can use to describe him is "wet". And it wasn't just water-dumped-over-the-head wet, he looked internally wet. You could tell he was really, REALLY sweating and it must have been a rough hot ride out there. A few minutes later he was smiling starting the run, but again he looked hot. And not in the good way.

Then we waited for Steve, and that was a problem. The bike finish is about 50 yards from the overall race finish, and we could hear the race announcer updating everything that was happening with the pros. They were tracking Craig Alexander who was on pace to set a new Ironman World Championship record and we could have gone over to watch history being made. But Steve wasn't back yet. We kept hearing the updates how Crowie was 2 miles away... 1 mile away... 1/2 mile away... and we were thinking "come on, Steve! We need to go see Craig!" 

We never left our Steve-viewing post, and settled for hearing Craig Alexander break the world record. Steve came in a few minutes later. No regrets.

There's a shortcut spectators can take to catch athletes around mile 1 of the run. After we saw Steve head out on the run, Laura, Dave and I ran down Alii Drive to see Steve again. It was probably the toughest workout I had in months. It was maybe a half-mile run, but we did it dodging crowds while carrying cameras and signs and phones and not wearing proper running gear. We caught Steve again, completely sweaty and out of breath (us, not Steve).

The next viewing area was at mile 10, but for some reason I thought it was mile 5 or 6 so I made sure we got there very early. This meant we spent a lot of time waiting and worrying why our racers hadn't shown up yet. Once we realized they had 4 more miles to run than I thought, we felt better. We saw Steve first, which was odd. Not that we weren't thrilled to see him, but history would suggest that we should have seen Gary first. Turns out, Gary had stopped about 200 yards down the road from us. Basically, he overheated on the bike and was having trouble recovering. He decided to drop out of the race. Just wasn't his day. He raced Kona before, he'll race it again, but in spite of his great spirits it was certainly a disappointment.

We then had another 16 miles to wait for Steve's final finish. We had dinner at the hotel, constantly redoing the math trying to figure out what time Steve would come in. I think we decided that we could see him at mile 25 around 8:00 or 8:15, and then take the short cut to watch him finish at 8:15-8:30. 

Playing it extra safe, we got to mile 25 around 7:40. We really wanted to plan this out well, so we sent Steve's brother on a mission to time how long it would take to get to the finish line using the shortcut. It's kind of a blur what happened next, but as I recall Inconsiderate Steve showed up about 20 minutes early. We freaked (or at least I did) because I had no clear plan on where to go yet. Steve's Brother returned as we scrambled to get our gear together and he led us on a mad dash to the finish line. (It's actually pretty amazing that you can get great seats at the last minute and we were in the bleachers leaning on the fence when Steve arrived.)

You may recall my friend Brian and I coined the phrase "milking the chute". It means that when you're in the finisher's chute, make the most of it. High five strangers, kiss babies, do whatever you want but you should really make the most of the experience. Well, Steve did something completely new. As he approached the finish mat, he kind of went into a slow-motion bullet time. He walked under the clock - and seemed to just sort of stand there. It was like he was posing for wedding photos. He just stayed there, and stayed there, and stayed there. It wasn't like they had to call security to move him out the way, but he was definitely there for an awkwardly long time. More power to him.

We saw Steve, did lots of sweaty man-hugging (sweaty-man hugging?) and then he went over to the medical tent and tried to con his way into getting a fluid drip. They weren't buying it and just released him. I think for his next Ironman I'm going to bring my own I.V. for him to use after the race.

So let me say this about Kona: it is probably the easiest race I've ever spectated. The key factors of a spectator-friendly race are 1) how often you can see your racer, 2) how far you have to walk to get to different viewing areas, and 3) how difficult it is to cut across the race course. I felt it was very easy to get around and we had some pretty good viewings. 

I do have one complaint about the race crossings- I think it's great when young people come out and volunteer at Ironman. But you shouldn't put a 16-year-old girl in charge of crowd control at a pedestrian crossway. I was amazed at how many people were cutting across the bike course dangerously close in front of the bikes. Oh, and accidentally dropping bags and trash in the road as they did it. People are stupid.

Kona 2011 Vacation

I'm back in Kona for the Ironman World Championships, but this time as a spectator; my friends Steve and Gary are doing the race. I've watched a lot of people race a lot of Ironmans, but this is probably the first time I'm actually a little sad that I'm not participating.

The first thing I noticed when I got to the Ironman village is that all of the merchandise is WAY better than last year. The t-shirt designs, the sport bags, all of the graphics are just a lot cooler. And don't get me started on the finishers medal. I actively dislike the medal I got last year - it's creepy looking. Unfortunately they don't let you trade them in for the latest design. But it makes me mad how much nicer everything looks this year.

Thursday was the Underpants Run. I packed some undies to run in, but was very much relieved when Steve told me he didn't want to do it. Phew. I was self-conscious enough doing it last year when I was in relatively decent condition, but I really didn't want to run it again 20 pounds heavier. Teresa told me that the local access TV station was running highlights from last year's run and I was shown several times in my Ironman Mickey ears, so I feel I've contributed enough.

Instead of prancing around town in my skivvies, I went snorkeling with the sea turtles. This is one of my favorite things to do in Hawaii, but I had a little bit of trouble this time. I found a turtle to hang out with quickly enough, but he was feeding on top of a shallow reef. When a wave came in, we were in 2-3 feet of water. When a wave went out, we were in 1-2 feet of water. Which mean I kept being dropped and dragged on the rocks and coral. It was uncomfortable, but I didn't think much about it since my honu (turtle) buddy was having a good time.

It wasn't until I got out of the water that I realized how rough the ocean was on me. I walked on to the beach and a random woman said to me "oh, you're bleeding!" I looked down and saw I had a 2-inch gash on my stomach and my belly was covered in blood. It looked worse than it actually was, but you know how just a little bit of blood can stain a large area. I also had a big cut on my foot which was getting sand in it. There wasn't much I could do about it, so I just rinsed off and went back to the hotel. I'm fine, but the scab does itch a bit. Overall, not my best turtle experience.

I spent most of Friday helping Steve with random pre-race errands and giving him all of my wisdom and insight about the race: "It's really hard." We had lunch at Splashers Grill, the place where I had a bit of a nervous breakdown last year, and Steve had a bit of stress this time. I'm starting to think that maybe there's nothing stressful about the Ironman World Championships in Kona, but there's just something bad in the food at Splashers. My advice to all future Kona racers: eat some place else for lunch. (Eating at Splashers is stressful. Drinking there is another story.)

Sunset Beach 5K

I spent a week at the shore in Sunset Beach, North Carolina. There is a small general store on the island, and somebody had taped this scribbled sign on the door:



A 5K on the beach? I was intrigued. So I went to the website and saw this description of the race:

"NO water stops, NO bibs, NO fees, NO timing, NO race t-shirts, NO celebrities, NO massages, NO medical tent, NO restrictions on dogs or other animals, NO restrictions on baby strollers, NO restrictions on what you can wear, NO free food at the end and NO sign up process."

This was the complete anti-corporate race. Don't get me wrong, I love big sponsored races like the Rohto Cooling Eye Drops Ironman 70.3 Hawaii, but this just sounded great. Last year, they had 28 people show up. I liked everything about it, except for the part about "No water stops". North Carolina is very hot and EXTREMELY humid, and it's a miserable place to run. (It was the perfect spot for some Kona training for me last year!) So I emailed the race organizer, Bill Gallagher of the Needham Massachusetts Running Club, and told him I would go out on the course and hand out water to people. He was very grateful.

Race morning, I walked about a mile to the general store near the race start and picked up 8 quarts of water (they didn't have gallons) and 4 quarts of Gatorade. I wisely brought a very large beach bucket with me to carry all of my supplies. I got to the starting area, and with about 15 minutes til start time there were 4 people there. I was a little worried that I would be pretty lonely out there all by myself, but I just figured that even if only 4 people raced, I would make sure those 4 people had some water. It was an out-and-back course right on the sand, so I planned on being at mile 1 so I could also catch them coming back at mile 2. I checked the GPS on my phone and headed down the beach.

I have a pretty good idea how far a mile is, but it is VERY different when you're trying to lug 3 gallons of fluids in a giant bucket. It was awkward to carry and I was sweaty and exhausted by the time I got into position. My friend Melissa was coincidently out for a morning bike ride on a beach cruiser, so she stopped and offered to keep me company. I poured out a few cups or water and gatorade, and waited for the 4 racers to arrive.



A few minutes later, I saw my friend Alan running towards me in the lead. He had mentioned he wanted to do the race, but I hadn't seen him yet that morning. Hooray Alan! I handed off some water to him. Behind him was another runner. And another. And a pack behind them. Thank goodness Melissa had shown up. I could barely keep up with pouring new cups as she started handing them out to people. It wasn't much longer before we were giving out drinks on both sides - sprinters returning at mile two and joggers/walkers at mile 1.

My friends Ed and Chad also came running by, as did Melissa's teen son Tucker. Tucker is athletic but hadn't done any recent running, and he was cramping up when he got to us. He was thinking about staying with us or just turning back, but I didn't allow it. He walked it out and stretched a bit and was feeling better and continued the course. We were very proud of him for sticking with it.

I assumed that many of the runners may have never done an official 5k before, and even the experienced one probably never ran such a "casual" race. I was yelling to everyone "throw your cup on the ground! we'll pick it up for you!" Of course, I hardly had any time to clean up. Fortunately, there was hardly any wind so I was able to run around from time to time and didn't lose a single cup.

Last year they had 28 people, so I assumed at most maybe we would get 50 people this time, and the 3 gallons would be enough. It wasn't. The organizer estimated he had 70 people this year, and I handed out over 100 cups. Unfortunately, the last 20 people or so didn't get their water break at mile 2. Sorry!

I went back to the starting line and was pleased to see how many people were sticking around to see every last racer come in. I was speaking to the family of the final finishers: it was a boy with asthma doing the race with his grandfather. Very cool. My friend Alan wound up finishing in 3rd place and won a gift certificate from the local ice cream joint.

I spoke with Bill about NEXT year's event. We're already talking about getting more volunteers and having food and drink available to runners at the finish line. I'm pretty sure he wants to keep it completely "off the books" - as soon as he charges an entry fee, even if it's just $5, he's going to need to worry about permits and security and and who knows what else so I think it will just remain a very casual fun event, as it should be.

Here's the official race report from Bill. I get a shout out: "We also had two water stops...sponsored by a vacationer, Mike (an Ironman)." It still makes me giggle to be referred to that way.

Click here for more photos.

Wiped Out

I have a strange job.

One of my responsibilities is to research emerging video platforms - all those devices that let you watch TV without a TV:  Smart phones, tablets, game consoles. So our department has a few Xbox systems in storage. When the Communications Group wanted to host a series of employee demos to promote the launch of the Wipeout Game for Xbox Kinect, they came to me.

For those not familiar, Kinect is a motion-capture system for Xbox. You use your body to control the game. You run, jump, duck, stretch... do everything in real life that you want your on-screen character to do. And Wipeout is the crazy, wildly popular obstacle course game show on ABC, home of the Big Red Balls (check local listings). 

Wipeout and Kinect are a great combination. And the game is a lot of fun. Over the past week, I hosted three 2-hour demos of the game. While the main purpose was to let other people try it out, I had to show them how the game worked. A lot. Which meant a lot of running in place, jumping, and stretching. Ths is pretty much the only exercise ive done over the past two weeks. And somehow in the process I managed to pull a hamstring. Yes, I have a videogame injury. Three days later, I am still sore. Every now and then I'll be walking along, minding my own business, when YEOW! My leg gives out and I'm in a lot of pain.

I would file a Worker's Comp claim but I'd be too embarrassed to explain the cause of my injury. I'm trying to find a Kinect: Rehab game to fix up my leg.