The Club Dilemma

Recently, my local running club held a meeting to discuss the future direction of the club. The meeting was hosted by the founder of the club who was acutely aware the club had naturally evolved over the past four years. It was time to re-evaluate the purpose of the club.

I didn't attend, but sent an email expressing my view. I joined the local running club to find like-minded people who I could train with, race with, and keep me motivated. Over the last few years, I have made great friends, learned a ton about training, and enjoyed the comraderie that only runners share. Over the course of time, the club also developed a logo, a web site, newsletter, club gear, and kept a record of Grand Prix points so club members could compete on a level playing field.

Then the club decided to take on the organizing of a local race, then another, and this year was considering launching another local race. We have raised money for charitable causes, given scholarships to local high school students, and generally given back to the community. The trouble is, that's not why I joined the club. I really just want to train and race. Philanthropy is important to me, but I prefer not to mix it with my training and racing.

So we find ourselves at a crossroads, and I re-evaluate why I seek the fraternity of fellow athletes. I know I never would have considered the triathlon, attempted the marathon or ultra marathons if I had not joined the running club in the first place. I have found some great training partners for the tri and running, and we have had a really fun time. The friendships have been very special.

In the end, I think we all have very similar priorities. Family first, then work, then working out. By the time we get to working out, there isn't much time. Maybe once the kids go off to college, I'll have more time...to run.

Sentinel Triathlon Results

I wasn't exactly ready for a race today, but I had missed the Triathlon at Pacific Grove a couple weeks earlier and wasn't ready for tri season to end, so I decided just a couple days ago to do the Sentinel for a second year in a row. It helped a lot to have my friend Doug who raced with me last year encouraging me to do it again with him. This was my 5th race of the season.

Part of me didn't want to do the race unless I had a chance of beating my not so impressive time of 2:49 last year. I thought my swim had improved considerably this year, but I wasn't spending as much time as I would have liked on the bike and I've been going to physical therapy for three weeks now to help loosen up a really tight external rotation of my hip flexors. Geez, that sounds like an old guy thing.

Conditions were about perfect. 60 degrees at race time and about the same water temp. I felt comfortable throughout the swim but my wave (45 - 49) seemed to thin out rather early and I felt like I was swimming almost entirely on my own as we turned around the end of the Santa Cruz pier. Stepping onto the beach I glanced at my watch to see I was nearly five minutes ahead of my split last year. I was stoked.

I have never perfected the art of getting out of a wetsuit. Even with the wetsuit peeled down to my waist, it's like trying to get out of a straight jacket in a bad magic show hanging from a burning rope. T1 just sucks.

I kept my bike computer on my average speed. I knew the course well, so all I had to do was equal or beat my 18.6 mph last year. On Hwy. 1 we were met with a brisk headwind. All I could do was hammer the downhills at 30+ mph and look forward to a tailwind on the return. The loop through the parking lot toward the end is a bone jarring ride. It felt like either my back or my bike would snap as I rattled through that section.

I finished the bike in 18.5 mph, so I knew I had a better overall time going than last year. Now if I could just run 8-min. miles like I did last year, I'd finish with a decent time. But less than two miles into the run, my left glute and right hamstring started cramping. I was ready to quit but I have never quit. I stopped for 10 - 15 secs. to stretch my legs, and that seemed to help. Still, I struggled the entire run. Both feet were numb and I wasn't going at the pace I wanted just to avoid injury.

I crossed the finish line but was so delirious I couldn't read the time on my watch. I finally figured out I finished in 2:45, exactly my goal time. That meant I improved dramatically on the swim this year. I'll have to tell my swim coach all the work is paying off.

All in all, I'm really pleased with my tri season. Two full Olympics, two shorter ones, one half ironman, and Aluminum Man in Maui. I feel like I have put some experience under my belt to tackle a bigger prize next year.

Splash 2 Dash Winner!

Today, at age seven, my son Cayman won the 7 - 8 yr.-old age group at the first annual Splash 2 Dash Youth Triathlon in our home town. He didn't train for it at all and it was his first triathlon. It was a 50-yard swim, a 3-mile bike, and a 3/4-mile run.

We didn't even know about the event until a few days ago. Yesterday, I took Cayman on our bikes to see the course. I explained each leg, showed him the transition area, and we rode the bike course. I think it helped him a lot. He knew where to go and knew how many laps of the looped course he needed to complete.

He was in the fourth wave, so he was able to watch other kids start in the pool, see them exit and head to the transition area. We jockeyed for position to get the first lane, closest to the transition area. I was trying not to take the whole thing too seriously, but any triathlete understands how to shave a few seconds here or there. I knew Cayman would go out as fast as possible on the swim, but he remembered to take a few breaths at the end of the pool before doing the second lap. My wife helped him out of the pool as I waited for him at his bike. I knew I could help him through a fast transition, but when he left on his bike, I couldn't tell where he was in the pack.

I ran out to the looped bike course to see how he was doing. He passed me halfway through the ride, where I told him it looked like he was in the lead! With an emphatic fist pump, he charged ahead. He passed me one more time and then I ran back to the transition area to meet him.

He was clearly in the lead coming into T2. I grabbed his bike and helmet right at the dismount area and he took off running. That was about a 4-second transition. Wouldn't it be nice if I could do that in one of my races. Just three laps around the parking lot, but he had now caught kids from the previous wave that started 15 minutes before him. He didn't realize he was only racing against his age group at that point, but the shuffle of kids everywhere urged him on.

He crossed the finish line in 23:46. Official results showed one other boy in his wave finishing in exactly the same time tied for first, but that's not possible because there was nobody near him at the finish. It was only after seeing the official times that I realized how far ahead of everyone Cayman finished. The average finishing time was around 33 minutes.

It was also great to have my wife and daughter on the course taking videos and pictures and cheering him on. We were all very proud of Cayman's win, and I would have been just as proud if he had not won, but for him to win in a field of 52 kids and beat all the 8-yr. olds. Wow, I was impressed.

Cayman was very proud of his accomplishment, but I think he expected to win. His win and his confidence inspired me. But already there are two giant differences between my son and me. He is starting the sport 35 years younger than when I started it. And he is really good.

Marathons, Triathlons, Ultras

I have already spent considerable time on long rides and runs thinking about what kind of events I want to do in 2009. The plan includes marathons, triathlons and ultra marathons. I'll probably throw in a century ride or two. But in talking through this with some training partners, I now have a better understanding of why I choose this combination of events.

For me, the triathlon is the ultimate challenge. Nothing tests your physical conditioning, endurance, and mental fortitude quite like the tri. The amount of training required to perform respectably in three disciplines is so much more physically demanding than a single sport. The effects of sleep, stretching, rest, and eating habits are exacerbated. And so many things can go wrong in a tri. So when a race goes well, it is incredibly rewarding.

I've been a runner for over 30 years and the marathon represents the pinnacle of the sport for many runners. The lore and lure of Boston alone makes the marathon a must do. But I avoided it for years. It is a test like no other. The training is hard...really hard, and it keeps you honest. For most runners, it's the longest distance you'll ever try to run as fast as possible. I have learned to always respect the marathon.

I am really glad to have found ultras last year. Through many long hours of training with friends and running events in incredible places, the ultra represents the pure joy of running. You only take on the ultra if you really love to run. Family and friends can't appreciate the ultra distances (most have never even heard of ultras). You don't run 6 - 10 hours or more for the recognition. I've never even seen a finisher's medal for an ultra. You do it for yourself, and the satisfaction in an ultra comes entirely from within. I got into ultras because I love to run, but I found training for ultras all winter took me into tri season in great shape.

I don't know if this is just my twisted way of justifying what I love to do, but it works for me.

Mt. Madonna Challenge -- Runners In The Mist

This one is for serious trail runners. I ran it two years ago and took second in my age group, so I wanted to do it again this year. In it's 33rd year, this trail run for locals draws a small crowd, probably due to its punishing course. The 1100-ft. climb from the start of the 12K forces all but the few front runners to walk less than a mile into the race. Just a few minutes into the race my heart rate was easily at 175.

Mt. Madonna is my favorite place for trail running, and today's race was absolutely pristine. Winding through troves of oak, sycamore, manzanita and redwoods, there was a two-mile section where we ran through thick fog. At the top of one ridge the fog spilled over the trail like smoke, the same way you see it in San Francisco as the ocean winds push it over the mountains. Sounds are muffled, trail shoes brush along a thick carpet of mixed foliage, and the scent of redwood seems to fill your body. I sort of lost myself in this space a few times, hardly aware I was running a race, mesmerized by finding myself in this other world.

I knew my Garmin wasn't going to track the distance through the tall forest, but I was surprised how well I remembered the course. I knew where the steep climbs ended, and I was ready for the downhills. The county had poured a fresh coat of gravel on the fire roads earlier in the year, and that made the descent much easier this year.

I highly recommend this event for any avid trail runner. It is breathtaking (and literally takes your breath away), challenging, and rewarding. It was also a good reminder for me to do more hill work in my triathlon training.

I had done almost no trail running recently but still managed to finish less than a minute behind my time two years ago. I was 15th overall but 8th in my age group in the smallest of races, reminding me once again I need to wait until I turn 60 for a shot at the podium.

Should Triathlon Be An Olympic Sport?

Consider Olympic sports of the past. Golf is one of the world's most popular sports, being played in well over 100 nations worldwide. Yet it has only been an Olympic sport twice, in 1900 and 1904. Polo is considered the oldest mounted team sport, with a history reaching back centuries, when it was played in the plains of Asia, ancient Persia, China and India. Polo was on the Olympic program five times, but not since 1936. Cricket, croquet, lacrosse, power boating, rugby, and water skiing have all been Olympic sports.

Then consider some completely obscure and unknown events that have made it to the Olympic arena. Jeu de paume was an event contested at the 1908 Summer Olympics. Pelote basque has elements of handball, tennis, squash, and the gambling game known as Jai Alai. It was an Olympic sport in 1900 in Paris. Roque, a version of croquet, was played in the 1904 Summer Olympics in St. Louis. How did these sports ever make it to the Olympics? The same way tug-of-war made it on the Olympic program not once, but six times!

The most endearing Olympic sport is probably curling, where since 1924, a "skip" can use a broom to win the same medal they gave Jesse Owens and Carl Lewis. Are curlers really athletes? Is curling a sport? At the 2006 Winter Olympics in Italy, more people in Italy watched curling than ice hockey or figure skating.

But the weirdest sport of all is race walking. It has been an Olympic event for over 100 years. Current NBC Olympic host and commentator Bob Costas said racewalking, "looks like a person who has to go really bad. 'I gotta go, gotta go, gotta go right now' --except they just don't break into a full-scale sprint. Having a contest to see who can walk the fastest is kind of like having a contest to see who can whistle the loudest. If you're really in that much of a hurry, run. And if you really want me to hear you, shout."

Demonstration sports at the Olympics ended in 1992, as there were too many events in the Summer Olympics for officials to handle.There are many other sports like karate that have been around for hundreds of years and practiced in most countries of the world but have never made it to the Olympics. Lawn bowling, ballooning (yes, hot air balloons), surf lifesaving--a sort of BayWatch, glima, korfball, pesapallo (a.k.a. Finnish baseball), and roller hockey have all made their bid to be in the Olympics but failed.

Britain has already claimed fourth place in the national medal count when they host the next Summer Olympics in 2012. They plan on doing it by entering more athletes in obscure sports like flatwater canoeing and team handball.

So I say, on this eve of the Olympic triathlon in Beijing, does triathlon have it's rightful place in the Olympics since making its debut at the Sydney Games in 2000 and will it stay? What do you think?

I am Aluminum Man!

Today, I did the Maui Aluminum Man at Kahekili Beach Park. The beach is named after the last king who ruled Maui and O`ahu for 45 years until 1794. King Kamehameha fought long and hard to defeat King Kahekili, who turned out to be his father (had to throw that in...makes it sound all native). Anyway, I wasn't sure what to expect. I had been told "no timer, no T-shirt, no medals, no fee, just fun." Fun and free sounded good to me.

There may have been 45 people at the start. No registration, no packet pick-up, no race bibs, no timing chips, no body marking (but plenty of tattoos). All participants, family and friends were asked to form a circle on the beach for a sort of spiritual-aloha-kumbaya thank you to the universe moment. Actually, it was kind of nice--made the event feel very local and home grown. Reminded me of the now defunct Redwood Trails organizers who used to ask a racer to sing the national anthem before every race.

Anyway, the start was very inauspicious. The organizers, a husband and wife team, also participated in the event. We were reminded once again to leave our egos on the beach. This event was purely for fun. We were led out from the beach where a fantastic reef begins just a few feet from the shore. I kind of wanted to look around at the marine life, but with an encouraging "OK, let's go!" we were off. Some people were wearing snorkels, others chose to wear fins; I even noticed someone wearing webbed gloves, but anything goes, brah.

This was my first time racing in the ocean without a wetsuit. I don't know what I was thinking even bringing it. I would have looked like a complete fool. But I couldn't believe how much harder it is to swim without it. I finished near the back of the pack completely "pao" but I knew I would make up time on the beach (not that I was racing or anything). When I stepped onto the beach, my wife and kids were standing there to greet me. I was so surprised to see they had walked a half mile from the start, I didn't know what to do but managed an exhausted pose for the camera.

The beach run was seven lengths of the distance we had just swam. They said it was 3.5 miles, but it was much harder than it looked. The sand was soft, it was already 80 degrees, nobody bothered wearing shoes, and the tide was coming in, leaving little room to run in some places. Ah, but where else in the world would I ever run a race barefoot?

I estimated 1/3 of everyone who started didn't finish the event, pulling out at different places. I have no idea where I finished in the standings. There was nobody taking times at the finish since the race directors were also racing. I clocked myself at 54 minutes and change, including all the times I stopped to pose as Aluminum Man for my kids to take my picture.

If you are ever in the Hawaiian Islands, don't miss this one. These events are held about seven times a year on different islands. Some include a bike; this is the only one with a beach run. Every once in a great while I go for a run just for the pure enjoyment of running. You will find Aluminum Man is a celebration of life.