Recently in Race Report Category

It wasn't until the finish chute that my body acted up. I stopped running, only to have two guys that I just passed, cheer me on to keep running. So I did, only to start walking again a little bit later. Finally, I convinced myself to run across the line and find a spot to sit down. I found one right on the other side of the finish arch, way to the side to stay out of other finishers' path. From there I was whisked away to the medical tent on a flexible stretcher.

On Friday night, the last thing I did after I posted my new mantra was to check the weather. It specifically stated that the best chance of thunderstorms was between 7am and 1pm, prime racing time. Then, the next morning at 5am, the radar confirmed the forecast, featuring high winds along with the rain. But, like the rest of the forecasts this year, you can count on them as far as you can throw them, which isn't very far. Setting up, it never rained, and only sprinkled as we were waiting for the waves to start. But, it stayed cloudy and humid.

The water had risen two degrees overnight and was now at 83°F - totally non-wetsuit legal. My teammate Chris showed me this cool tip where I put my top on, but don't put my arms in, pulling it down to around my waist. Then I tucked the whole thing into my shorts except for two "tabs" that I could pull out as I ran to my bike. I tested it beforehand and got some kinks worked out, so I was good to go for the race.

SWIM
After waiting for all my teammates to start before me, I finally got to go about 10 deep in my wave due to the time trial format. I got the go and went in. I think with my run in, flop, and one dolphin dive, I passed everyone who started before me who were doing the backstroke, breaststroke and I don't know what else. Since there were about 45,000 people already in the water, I stayed to the outside and took the long route to keep clear. Sure, it's longer, but likely faster since I don't have to worry about zig-zagging around everyone else along the buoys. I kept in the moment and made sure my stroke was long and smooth as possible. I got into a nice groove, especially into the slight wind and chop. On the beach and ran up the chute, I perfectly executed the new top tip and ran into transition.

Swim Time: 23:37.7, 2nd in AG

Transition was a big place, but I found my bike, got the shoes on and nearly took off without my helmet.

BIKE
The main goal was to be above 20mph average. The course is winding and urban, with lots of cracks and potholes to avoid. Sections were busy with other competitors, but roads were closed, so there was plenty of room. I was really humming along, and the legs were fatigued from a lack of training, but my Joule & PowerTap said I was within acceptable power limits, so I kept going, keeping myself in the moment as much as possible, though I remember passing some houses and thinking those were really big and cool looking. But, I snapped back to the race and pressed on. I got to see my cousin and her family out on the course, too. My total distance came out to be mile long, which was confirmed by others. Officially, I averaged 21.8mph, so I'll take it.

Bike Time: 1:10:20.9, 24th in AG

My second transition left a lot to be desired. When I saw the radar before the race, I smartly put my socks in a bag inside of my bag to keep them dry. Only problem was that I forgot to take them out before the race. I momentarily "lost" them and had my shoes on - sockless (which I never have done) before I checked one last time in my bag and found the bag. I got them on as quickly as possible and got out of there. Needless, to say, my transition time was below average.

RUN
It took the first mile to get my legs used to running. (Personal note: Must do more some bike-run brick workouts.) Once I started to feel good, I focused on running the straightest line of the winding path, which helped to stay in the moment. I also started to worry about Michelle, who started before me but I likely passed in the swim. At the only point on the course that's out & back, I see her about two minutes back. My new goal becomes to prevent her from passing me before I get done with the first loop. But, she doesn't. Buoyed by this, I confidently press ahead. When I see her at the out & back again, she's only gained about 30 seconds. I pressed harder.

Must. Not. Let. Michelle. Catch. Me.

I press again when I see a green sign marking the course, only it's not the 6-mile mark that I thought it was, it's the 2-mile mark for the first lap. Do I hold back? No, I'm in the moment, so I keep pressing. Finally, there's the turn off to the finishing chute. I see Chris is done and Sarah is with him taking pictures. I pass looking grimly and enter the finish chute. Then things got fuzzy.

Run Time: 46:58.6, 25th in AG
Total Time: 2:25:45.9, 9th in AG

Once in the med tent, a few people started asking all sorts of questions. I readily answered them, even jokingly. I was just really, really hot. Then they said they couldn't get a temperature from my skin. They'd have to go anally. That's when all the joking stopped. None of my persuasions would change their mind. I guessed that I was around 101°F. Turns out that I was at 104°F. Into the ice bath for me! After ten minutes, I was back on the lounge chair under cold towels, mentally readying myself for a second temperature check. My lack of joking concerned them a bit, but I was busy mentally making my temperature go down. This time, I was below the magical threshold of 100 at 99.9°F. I could go! Many thanks to Brian, Tracy and Christi who stayed with me while I cooled down.

SUMMARY
This is a great race. There were lifeguards every fifty yards on the swim course. There were at least two volunteers at every crossing, corner and turn on the bike course. (Some were better than others, but at least they were there.) From first hand experience, the med tent was top notch. For as big as it is, it was well run - even with the potentially dangerous weather.

My race went really, really well - even with the sock issue - right up until I finished. I don't know what got me so hot, but I was satisfied with my mental state throughout the race, pushing through racing pain and getting myself to the end. Despite the probing, I'm going to consider this race a success and learn from it. I'll probably come back next year and do my best to avoid the med tent.

There's nothing that competes more for your time than a child. Add to that projects around the house, increased responsibilities at work, additional side jobs at home and you're left with no time to train. And we all know that training is more important than racing. Thus, I left all expectations at home for the 2011 Capitol View Triathlon (sprint course) and promised myself that I would go hard the whole time.

The morning was full of sun, calm, and cooler temps - perfect race conditions. I got to transition early and saw a bunch of folks I knew walking in. I even got to rack my bike next to XT4 - an alphabetical bonus! Then, it was a bunch of waiting during the Olympic distance waves. As we waited, I noticed that lots of them were walking in to shore really slowly as they finished the swim. I chalked it up to tiredness from long efforts. Then, finally, it was my turn. On the horn, it was immediate dolphin dives and a sprint to the first buoy. Now in the clear, I eased up but still kicked the whole time. Around the next turn buoy, I merged with Olympic distance traffic and worked my way back to the beach. It was real shallow and for a long time and I barely maintained my stroke with the added bonus of high-elbow drill to prevent the finger tips from dragging in the water. As I got closer to shore, the water got murkier. And when I made my first attempt to stand up, my foot sank six inches into muck. OK, so we'll dolphin dive our way in. Head down, back into even murkier water. I stood up again with a strong desire for a toothbrush. So this is why everyone was walking. Each step sank into the muck, making it nearly impossible to run in. I kind of half-fell on my side / half-dolphin dived my way to shore. Once on the beach it was easier, then over the river and through the woods to grandma's house - I mean transition. (It was that far.)

Transition was a large parking lot in a state park. Evidently they don't sweep it often as my feet were tingling from stepping on all the little stones and pebbles leftover from the winter sand. Into my shoes, helmet, glasses, to the mount line and out on to the road. Time to hammer.

And hammer I did. Though hilly, the 10.5 mile course is ripe to put the pedal to the floor the entire time: stand to power up the hills, tuck in tighter to maximize aero downhill, lean into the three or four turns, turn around and do it over on the way back. Fun! I managed to keep things above 20mph, so I considered my fifth ride outside a success.

Now back into transition and out to the run. All cross-country, the run is deceptively hard. The first mile and half winds through the hills and trees, while the last half is all on long prairie grass, wet from the morning dew and long from a lack of cutting. But through it all, I pushed to the end.

It's amazing how results skew the efforts. My results were pleasant. For a brief moment, I was first in my age-group and seventh overall. Then two people suddenly appeared (including one from my age group as the overall winner,) and I was dropped to second in the age-group and ninth overall. But, had I not been able to brag about "podium" (there was no awards ceremony) finishes, this report would've been more about how sore I am with a whiny angle about a lack of training.

Final stats:

Swim: 5:19.4
T1: 1:40.7
Bike: 30:23.6
T2: 1:24.8
Run: 24:46.3
Overall: 1:03:34.8
9th Overall, 2nd M35-39

On the Monday before race, I had just gotten back from a long weekend in Florida with family when I realized that I was most likely going to get my booty kicked this weekend. Not only by Michelle, but the course as well.

I've actually lost track of how many times I've done this race. I've done it in high spirits in great shape. And I've done it after consuming many spirits in hurtin' shape. That year, I was lucky there was the Farmer's market going on at the same time to provide some pre-race energy (nutrition?) in the form of an elephant ear. But every year, the course never forgives you for not being prepared. And this year, I was not prepared.

Michelle came into town the night before and we reviewed the course. Most of it is shared with the Ironman Wisconsin course, just that you go UP the curvy section Observatory Drive instead of down. She didn't seem phased at all as my car dropped a gear to get up the incline. I gulped.

The next morning, we're warming up and sharing strategies while completing four strides and twenty minutes overall. Michelle's just chatting away and I'm gassed. She wants to run to the clothes drop, then run to the bathroom and then back to the start line. I'm thinking that I don't want to waste any more running - I'm going to need it for the race. Amongst all that, I eat a gel and chuckle at the thought of the elephant year. Times have changed.

We find our wave, and before I now it, we're off. At the first mile, we're pretty far ahead of pace and I don't feel so bad. Then we hit Observatory Drive. We get to the top and I can start to feel my lazy training this spring in the pain coming from my legs. Down a little to Charter Street then back up in front of the overlook of Lake Mendota. That's when I realize that Michelle is in front of me by twenty feet. I yell, "It's all you Michelle!" and she flashes a thumbs up. I think flames are now shooting out of her shoes, or maybe they're wings. I couldn't tell. I was cross-eyed.

Back down the hill and on to the flat out to Picnic Point. My pace has slowed because I was distracted thinking that Michelle and I didn't pick a place to meet after the race. Did I use that as motivation to run faster, catch up to her and finish together? Of course not. I get caught up thinking that it's going to be tough to find her in the crowd of 20,000 runners and walkers in Camp Randall Stadium. I waste several minutes thinking of how best to find her when I realize I'm at Picnic Point and ready to turn around.

And then, smack! Thirty mile per hour gusts in your face. Talk about soul sapping. My fragile mind couldn't handle it and I actually walked through the water station for a five-mile race. Ouch. But, I get my mind back into it and finish it out, attaching a "rubber band" to people in front of me and not letting it break. I make my way back to Camp Randall into the wind and finish strongly for a 37:21. Not a PR, but not too bad, either.

And Michelle was standing right there, plain as day.

I raced the 2010 Berbee Derby on Thanksgiving, and came home to find the Frazz comic very appropriate. Due to some crazy complications with my right arch, I haven't been running, only swimming. (Biking? Let's just not get into that.)

I got to run with my brother who's setting up his base in preparation for his spring marathon and elusive sub four-hour goal. The relatively decent weather (36°F and dry) provided a surprisingly large crowd and left us starting from the back. Throughout the first mile, we had to dodge, duck, dip, dive and dodge our way through the crowd, which left us over a minute off our goal pace from the get go. We decided to kick it into gear from there and increased the complexity of our dodging moves. Somewhere in here, my brother zigged when I zagged and we were separated with about three-quarters of a mile left. I pushed it hard to the finish and could feel where my body strained against going fast. It was a bit of a bulb-lighting moment for me, and left me thinking that my issues may be due to a simple lack of stretching and basic strengthening. I finished with an okay time given the situation, and turned around at the finish to watch my brother cross not long after me.

Turns out they had nearly 6,000 runners in the 5K & 10K runs - more than ever before! Good to see more folks getting out and about. Later that day, we hit up the Essen Haus for turkey with family and then out to my parent's house and just lounge around. Good stuff. Hope your Thanksgivings were just as swell.

My race in pictures:

Part of my pre-race meal: a Krispy Kreme donut, courtesy of Steve (picture and donut). I burped this up throughout my whole swim. Other than that, the swim was fun.

This is what my Joule recorded. (click it for larger version) I really tried to keep my power steady all day. I think I did well compared to previous rides. I can't recall what the two power spikes are, though.

The summary stats are:
Total Elapsed Time: 02:49:23
Distance, mi: 56.74
Work, kJ: 1965
Temperature, °F: 65.52
Average Power, Watts: 193
Normalized Power, Watts: 203
Average Cadence: 92
Average Speed, mph: 20.04
Average Heart Rate: 140

I stopped to pee mid-way through the third mile, hence that outlier. The decrease in pace at mile 12 is when the course turned back on the causeway out to the point and into the wind. It was a mental and physical struggle to not walk. Interesting to see the heart rate increase as the day got warmer and sunnier. The rest vary because I walk through all the aid stations. It's made a big difference in my run splits.

Here's a quick summary of the weekend that had me (and all of Evotri) at the Rev3 Cedar Point Half.

Stu, Michelle, and I set out Thursday to drive to the point. It was uneventful, except that Michelle thinks that Stu & I aren't normal. Stu & I had two sets of GPS-based directions attached to the windshield along with a MiFi broadcasting 3G WiFI service so that we could get Stu set straight on Facebook. It was awesome. Michelle obviously didn't think so. Once at Cedar Point, Michelle got on the trainer and we went out for a run after while Stu got to work helping with the race.

On Friday, Michelle and I toured the "mountainous" bike course, where we saw all sorts of lions and goats while navigating slowly through the clouds. (I'm lying. It was really flat. There were only horses and corn.) The highlight was a turnaround in the small town of Milan, birthplace of Thomas Alva Edison. After, we checked-in, and then headed to Cleveland to welcome the rest of the Evotri team. While waiting for everyone, we checked out the West Side Market and I found a most delicious sub sandwich, while Michelle got some tasty raspberries at fresh veggie & fruit market next door. I spied a barber shop and needed a haircut, so I stopped to see if I could get my haircut. Turns out, it was a teaching barber shop, so I paid my $4, and waited a few minutes and got first hair cut not done by me in over 10 years. Right as I walked out, Sarah & Steve were parking their car, so we got a seat at the Great Lakes Brewery and waited for the rest of the team to arrive. By 4:30 all were there and we washed down a tasty meal with some even tastier beverages. Then, it was back to the park for roller coasters! Rev3 hooked us up and allowed only athletes, families, and volunteers in the park on a few of their best rides. In an hour and a half, I rode 12 times on four different rides, six alone on the Top Thrill Dragster (three times in the front row.)

Saturday we got interviewed for Sunday's race broadcast (video coming soon) and tested the waves, ate at Perkins, had a team meeting, then enjoyed another tasty team meal at a local Italian joint. The night ended with final preparations for the race and one more interview with Chris answering questions sent to him via Cycleops. (I'll get that video soon, too.)

Sunday dawned cloudy and cool, but without rain. Overnight. the wind shifted and the lake was calmer. We set up our stuff in transition, watched the pros come out of the water and headed to our start. I was in the first wave, and while waiting for the gun, my back made hints of spasming, as it sometimes does. Once I got swimming, it didn't bother me. I was able to stay in front for the whole swim, providing a draft for what I thought was Chris. Turns out, it wasn't Chris, but three other guys, one of which sped past me right before the timing mats, so I didn't even get credit for getting first in the swim. Going out on the bike, I passed lots of folks heading out on their full course race. I wished as many as I could good luck and waved to as many spectators as possible. At mile 11, JP flew by me, tearing up the bike course. (He started a full five minutes after me, too. The man is an animal.) I kept my watts in check, knowing that my fitness was not at a level to test myself. At some points on the course, I really let myself get into some unhappy places. I don't know if it was the pavement conditions, wind, nutrition or all three. I wound up pulling it together and finished with a decent time. Out to the run, I concentrated on holding back on the run, thinking I could pick it up later if everything worked out. After the first five miles, my back reared up again and nearly sent me to my knees. And just as sudden as it showed up, it was gone. By now, I was starting to reel guys in that passed me on the bike and gaining some confidence in my run. (Yes, you read that right. I actually was confident in my run!)

A brief interlude for some sportsmanship. At an aid station, the guy in front of me, missed grabbing a gel from the volunteer, which I noticed was a flavor that I liked better than the one I had successfully grabbed. I took it and discarded the other one. Coming out of the aid station, the guy behind me, shouted to the guy that missed the gel that he had grabbed one for him. He passed it up, and made me looked pretty bad.

All through the race, I was ready to increase my pace once I hit the causeway heading back to the park. But, once I got there, the wind was so strong, it took all of my reserve energy to maintain my current pace. I got to the finish line and was elated to be done.

The rest of Evotri did awesome, with JP taking in second in half overall, Chris finishing sixth (tops in his age group), and the Sara(h)s dropping big times and finishing under six hours. Michelle clipped me by 39 seconds.

We finished out the night at Famous Daves and got a few more rides in the park. On Monday, we drove back, discussing next year's team race, and trash talking how it will all go down.

Fun times had by all.

Throughout the day, I had to remind myself that I actually had a race that night. Normally, I get bouts of pre-race nerves/anticipation/anxiety. But I had none of that. There was no constant checking of the weather for storms, temps or wind. I didn't even check to see what the water temp was. I don't know where my mind was, but it wasn't on this race.

I finally got amped as I got the beach. The parking lot even had spaces open and transition looked a bit empty. Gone were a lot of the top group, including local speedsters, Will Smith (PRO) and Mark Harms (ELITE).

I got a good run warm-up in and the legs felt good, despite little to no running. I decided to go with the wetsuit again (just like everyone else) and didn't get that great of a swim warm-up in because halfway through, I decided to tighten my goggles and the strap snapped. Luckily, one of the life guards, Clayton Greissmeyer (of race sponsor Greissmeyer Law) let me borrow his Aquaspheres. The straps were long and hung loose. I felt like Mickey Mouse's dog, Pluto.

Since Will and Mark were gone, there was talk about who was left to draft off of. Rumor had it that there was one guy from out of town. I marked him at the start and lined up. After some announcements ($15 gift card primes to Quaker Steak and Lube to the first and last swimmer for each age group!) and the sound of the horn, I ran in and took one and one-half dolphin dives. I couldn't finish the second because of the deep water due to the rainy summer. Unlike last race, I'm untouched at the start. (Must be the goggle straps slapping everyone.) I breathe quickly to both sides to see who's with me. No one. I do it again to see who's there. Again, no one. Where's the guy I marked? It's just me and the lead kayak. I focus on it and feel light touches on my feet early on. One final look left and then right to see who's with me. Still, no one. Shit.

The waves grew bigger the further we got from shore and they were smacking me around. I played with my stroke a bit and found that the longer I kept it, the smoother I felt. When not breathing, keeping my head up and looking forward also kept me in a straight line. Smooth and strong I gracelessly rounded the first buoy and look to see who was with me. Still no one.

Now I'm cross-ways with the waves and keeping on course grew more difficult. I'm tiring but there's no sign of anyone around me to draft. By the time I reach the final turn buoy, I say, "Forget it. I'm getting the prime. I need the gift card to pay for my food at my fantasy football draft." I bury my head and drive to the beach. With a goal in mind and effort raised, my stroke falters. It gets short, my head drops and I veer of course severely as I near the beach. (You can just imagine what my Pluto ears were doing.) But, I emerge from the water first, run to the timing mat, and then walk through transition and sit down.

I take off the wetsuit. put on my socks and shoes, grab my hat and Garmin, and watch ten people take off in front of me on the run. That swim put myself in a deep hole, and the run hurt. An 8:20 on each of my first two miles with a heart rate nearly maxed out meant that lots of people passed me. But I was the one with the $15 gift card. (Beat that suckas.) I stayed as strong as I could to the finish line, trying to maintain form. I crossed and got my worst Aquathon time ever, nearly 40 seconds slower than my hydration/nutrition debacle in race #2 and no where near my promising start to the 2010 Aquathon series. The swim felt long, but was really slow. And that's probably my fault. The waves and lack of anyone to draft off really slowed things down.

The resent run splits perplex me. But, I think I discovered why they've grown slower. Hint: it's not due to a lack of running. It's because I haven't been swimming! I haven't been in the water since mid June. And without any swim fitness, I put myself in a big hole wasting a lot of energy thinking I can still swim fast(ish) and that makes a relatively inexperienced runner (me) that much slower. So, can I get some swim fitness in over the next two weeks and close out the series on a high note? We'll see. But at least I'll have $15 worth of free food at my fantasy football draft.

I kind of forgot about this race while planning and attending WIBA. Add to that a full week of work in Waukesha so training was non-existent. (Funny how that happens with some regularity once you have a kid.)

I get set up and noticed that Quaker Steak and Lube was setting up shop right outside the exit from transition. That's when Ryan announced that for every wing you eat between the swim and run, you get 30 seconds off your time. (Up to five wings.) After my debacle in the last race, I think I'll pass. Given the humid conditions, I didn't want to push anything and went into this race just to get back into it.

The scuttle in transition before the race was whether or not to wear wetsuits. The water was 81° at the surface and the air temp was near that as well. With the wetsuit, it will be hot. Without, you'll be cooler, but lose time to the front pack. Once one person says they're wearing it, peer pressure kicks in and all follow. I forget who was the first, but soon we were all pulling our wetsuits on.

Waiting for the gun, I joked with those around me about pushing and shoving, even looking at the bottom of feet to make sure I would have the right ones when I would draft off them. Little did I know that this would be the roughest swim I've been a part of. I got knocked in the head several times, body-blocked once, and all kinds of body contact. There's been an increasing number of UW-Madison swimmers competing, so the front of the pack is getting crowded. I did find some feet, but they slowed on the second leg, so I went out on my own. By the second turn and the third leg, the water sloshing in my wetsuit felt like fire. So maybe it wasn't a good idea to go with the wetsuit, but at least I was with everyone. I picked things up towards the end and made my way out of the water, walking all the way through transition.

By the time I got to my stuff, my watch picked up my heart rate. It was at 180. And this was after walking -- not running -- through transition. Now there was no way I was going to have some wings.

I settled into a nice groove on the run, comfortable enough to get through it all. On way back, it was a treat to see the sauce stains on the cheeks and chins of everyone who ate the wings. I got through the race in one piece, satisfied with the effort. But I was still too warm to have any post-race wings.

You know those pamphlets that get stuck under your windshield wipers when you're at a race? Usually it's advertising someone else their race, or something else you might not be interested in. Well, on my car as I left the Wisconsin Triterium, there was a pamphlet for an Inaugural triathlon in nearby Janesville, just a few weeks away. Called the Rock, Roll n Run, it was to be a half-mile in the Rock River, thirteen mile bike, and 3.1 mile run. ("Rock, Roll n Run" get it?) With a time-trial start for the swim, it promised to be challenging with some rolling hills both on the bike and run.

I got to the race site a touch later than I wanted, but found a spot in transition and figured out the layout, but had no time for a warm up. I figured I could use the swim for that. A bit later, we made our way to the start area up the river. Along the way, the river looked fast & high due to the recent storms that dumped a lot of rain in southern Wisconsin. The Rock Aqua Jays, a local water ski club, supported the swim with more boats & jet skis than I've ever seen for a sprint triathlon. They struggled and had to point upstream and keep the throttle open, just to keep the same position in the river. This was going to be a fast swim. Every three seconds, we jumped into the water and made our way downstream. Soon it was my turn and I leaped off the dock took off like hell.

My overall goal for the race was to have a positive pass ratio, meaning that I pass more people than people pass me. I started out keeping track in the river, but then groups got too big to see how many where in each. Soon, and all of a sudden, it was time to exit. I had barely warmed up.

On to the bike and out of the city, the course was overall uphill on the way out, and down on the way back. I must have passed quite a few folks on the swim, because there was very few in front of me. With my saddle height now dialed in, my Specialized Transition Pro flew around the course. I noticed the extra speed as I flew on the downhills and I could maintain that speed on the flats. (A little extra weight helps, too.) A couple turns and I was on my way back into down. Up the last hill, I flashed a pose for the cheering section. Turns out, it was the Wimmers! Mike was taking the pictures and sent me what he got:

Also, on the way back to transition, the race photographer caught me around the last turn in a series of four shots.

I made it back to transition getting passed by only two people. And one had the full time trial kit on, including shoe covers; I assumed it was a relay.

The run starts out going through the local farmer's market. It was cute how they lined the course with small cones and caution tape to prevent crossings. Right after the first mile, was the hill. My running legs hadn't quite come around after the bike, and they weren't ready to run up a long hill. By the time I got to the top, my stride was so short that I don't think my heel was getting passed my toe on each step. But from there it was all down hill, and I pressed the pace. The whole time I felt pressure from behind, but dare not look back. Every time I would get cheered on, it was always in the plural, "Go you guys!" so there was someone there, but I didn't know who. Back to the transition area, I think we run around the back side of the bikes and right to the line that I can see is oh-so-close. But noooooo, we have to run another half-mile around the park to get to a spot that's 200 feet away. So cruel. It's here that I get passed for the first time on the run, but not by my shadow. It's someone else that thought the finish was closer, because his pace slowed noticeably after the pass. I finally make my way around the park and head for the chute, when I get passed by another guy I try to keep pace, but let out and audible groan and he pulls ahead. But, he slowed and all of a sudden, I hear what Coach Mike yelled at me at Racine last year, "Don't let him pass you in the finishing chute!" So I sprint, catch guy off guard and nip him at the line. Woot! Only one pass on the run.

Overall, it was a good day. The hill on the run added a minute to my time, because that mile was exactly that much slower than my other two. Turns out my shadow was a woman who never passed me, but exclaimed to her friend on her finish that she bettered her run split by a minute. I ended up 9th overall (8th male - PRO Lauren Jensen raced) And depending on how you look at things, I finished either 3rd in the five-year (30-34) age group, which is what the results show, or 5th in the ten-year (30-39) age group, which is what the awards displayed at the race.

Total: 1:10:58 9th OA/8th M
Swim: 7:11 (0:57/100m)
Bike: 38:38 (21.8 mph)
Run: 22:41 (7:19 min/mi)

[Editor's note: this is being published later than it was written because of computer issues. Consider it June 18th when reading.]

I won't be bashful: this was a tough, challenging week.

We spent the weekend in Chicago celebrating my sister's baby shower, and at some point, I tweaked my back. It's not a new injury. I have a single, misaligned vertebrae that pulls on my left side more than my right. One false move, and it tightens up so much that I have trouble breathing.

I felt something small Saturday, but didn't think too much about it. When we got back Sunday, I went on a run with Elsa, but my back didn't get any worse. It was during the night that it finally tightened up wicked bad. I couldn't breath deeply or even lay on the bed in a comfortable spot. I slept poorly, if at all. I barely made into work by 10 AM (usually there by 8) and left by 3 PM to try my luck with a chiropractor. He "pushed" (as he put it) on my back, cracked my spine in half, and I left feeling a bit looser, but still had tension when leaning the wrong way or holding Elsa. So I went back to the chiro on Wednesday for another "push" and by that night things were on their way back to normal. I woke up Thursday with no pain so the Aquathon was on.

Thursday ended up a littler warmer than the previous days, but nothing extraordinary. I purposefully drank water all day long to be hydrated for the race and made sure to have plenty of calories ahead of time. My warm up was abbreviated due to parenting duties, but I still was able to spend some time in the water before the start.

The aquathons are growing more and more popular with every race, and this race was the biggest yet. With an announced record setting entry of 146, the talent pool is getting deeper and competition is growing at all levels. Instead of leading the swim, I just hope to get on some feet and come out in the top ten.

Apparently we had a guest starter this week, because all we heard was a child screaming, "SetGo!" without any warning. So we were off! On my third and final dolphin dive, my left goggle filled with water. Fearing a lost contact and not being able to sight clearly, I decided to stop and empty the goggle. It went quicker than expected and my contact was still there! Sweet, now to find some feet and get swimming. The ones that I found slowed considerably after the first turn buoy, so I ditched them and went out on my own. The waves were somewhat challenging, but not overwhelming. I was on my way back to the beach when all of a sudden, out of nowhere, the final marking buoy grabbed hold and started slapping my head silly. I couldn't escape easily and had to stop and free myself from the rope. I saw a group of five pass me and try to gain back as many spots as possible. I ran on the beach in 9th and changed for the run.

The run started out innocently enough. I was ready to push it, building on a superb run at Lake Mills the week prior. I forgot my watch so I couldn't get splits, but mile 1 seemed fast enough. But, by the time I hit the turn around, I was hurting. I took some extra time and stopped while I drank a cup of water. On the way back, I slowed a bit, wanting desperately not to stop and walk. It was getting harder to breath and by the time I got to the top of the final hill. I stopped to catch my breath. It was a long stop. Finally, I get motivated to run down the hill and towards the finish line. I still put the effort in to finish hard and once I crossed the line, I dropped to my knees. Ryan, the race director & trained EMT, looks at me and asks if I'm alright, "cause, you don't look alright."

I made my way out of the finishing chute and lie down on the grass. Water is brought over, Ryan says, "you're pretty pale, how's your heart rate?" Then I shove some ice down my shirt and begin to get things under control. Kris saw me enter the chute from where she was sitting, but didn't see me exit, so she came over and saw me on the ground. As I get my color back, Ryan let's me know how serious it was, "I was one step away from calling the ambulance. You're color was not good."

Once I could stand, I spent some time sitting in the lake, cooling down. Then we headed to Red Robin for dinner and Home Depot to pick up our new screen door.

We spent the whole night considering what went into my meltdown. The biggest contribution in my mind is the lack of salts. I believe I made the mistake of thinking that because I'm not working out as often, or as hard, I don't need an electrolyte drink. But, considering the fact that I'm a salty, heavy sweater, I need to keep on top of my salts. That, and more training couldn't hurt. But, a silver lining, if you could call it that, is that I had some mental fortitude to push my limits. I've never done that before. I know I shouldn't stop, but I didn't coast in, either.