The weather has turned decidedly winter like, with almost three straight days of drizzle, wind and cold. Could be Seattle almost any day of the year but this is Phoenix.
There is something to be said about a dark night, listening to the rain fall in my backyard; the air temperature being 40 degrees and my jacuzzi temperature 104 degrees. Just soaking the days troubles away.
Life's pretty okay when that happens.
Monday, December 10, 2007
Too Human
A vendor walked into my office today bearing a gift. A tray of about 80 small cookies of bakery quality, all different types and flavors. Turns out said vendor spent 28 years as a baker before starting his current business. He made all the cookies at home, put them on a decorative clear serving plate and wrapped in festive translucent wrap with streamers.
I told him I would share these with Mistress, whom he also knows well, he knows her better than me, I must admit. Upon sharing with Mistress this information of our shared blessing, she asked me to wait until we got home so she could she the gift in all its magnificent glory.
But.....I just had to try one. I mean, c'mon, who wouldn't when the thing is sitting there on your desk all big and all. It was begging me. Taunting me with its clear wrap and bright bows magnifying the lure of sugared confections.
But what of Mistress. Did not she also want to share in this Christmas bounty?
Out with a flick comes my smallest, sharpest knife. I'll make just a small incision of the wrap along the decorative tray. I would snatch a few precious snacks and use a little piece of tape to cover my deed.
Damn. These cookies are good!!!
The hole doubles in size before I am satiated, the seam carefully concealed in tape and tucked amongst the folds of clear wrapper. A right fine cloak and dagger operation I admit to myself. I also admit that the ease of my decision to secretly abscond with valuable booty would put me in an unfavorable light with The Mistress if she ever discovered my traitorous heart.
What is that? A voice in my head? No lower, in my stomach. My its late, almost lunch. I am too busy to leave right now but I should eat.
I'll cut along the same line and snatch just another couple morsels. Quite tasty those powdered ones but their all much higher on the plate now and the hole is too small. I'll make a...oops the knife slipped and the hole is much larger and jagged now. Oh well, time to fess up with an email and enjoy the sugary bliss of holiday cheer.
While I am sure I will feel some heat for this I know two things. One, I didn't lie and say they were just for me to begin with. Two...it's not chocolate. I would never attempt to do this feat with chocolate. Taking chocolate from Mistress is a hangin' O'fence in these parts.
I told him I would share these with Mistress, whom he also knows well, he knows her better than me, I must admit. Upon sharing with Mistress this information of our shared blessing, she asked me to wait until we got home so she could she the gift in all its magnificent glory.
But.....I just had to try one. I mean, c'mon, who wouldn't when the thing is sitting there on your desk all big and all. It was begging me. Taunting me with its clear wrap and bright bows magnifying the lure of sugared confections.
But what of Mistress. Did not she also want to share in this Christmas bounty?
Out with a flick comes my smallest, sharpest knife. I'll make just a small incision of the wrap along the decorative tray. I would snatch a few precious snacks and use a little piece of tape to cover my deed.
Damn. These cookies are good!!!
The hole doubles in size before I am satiated, the seam carefully concealed in tape and tucked amongst the folds of clear wrapper. A right fine cloak and dagger operation I admit to myself. I also admit that the ease of my decision to secretly abscond with valuable booty would put me in an unfavorable light with The Mistress if she ever discovered my traitorous heart.
What is that? A voice in my head? No lower, in my stomach. My its late, almost lunch. I am too busy to leave right now but I should eat.
I'll cut along the same line and snatch just another couple morsels. Quite tasty those powdered ones but their all much higher on the plate now and the hole is too small. I'll make a...oops the knife slipped and the hole is much larger and jagged now. Oh well, time to fess up with an email and enjoy the sugary bliss of holiday cheer.
While I am sure I will feel some heat for this I know two things. One, I didn't lie and say they were just for me to begin with. Two...it's not chocolate. I would never attempt to do this feat with chocolate. Taking chocolate from Mistress is a hangin' O'fence in these parts.
Saturday, December 8, 2007
That was that
To follow up on our first 'date' in many months, Mistress and I had a good night. We went to the mall where we did not eat at some giant chain restaurant but a great Mexican joint. Hit some stores and had some good conversations.
I have mentioned before that some tissue damage I got at my bike race last month has lingered around the back of my right knee. During a tough swim practice with lots of kick drills that day, it really tired the area out so we didn't wander aimlessly for hours, in fact I sat when i could.
The same night a storm came to the valley bringing lots of rain and wind and cold weather. Now look...Phoenix gets rain only a dozen days a year. Maybe only two or three that rain all night and into the morning, which is what happened this weekend. It usually a no-brainer to skip workouts on those wet mornings or go later when the roads are dry.
But I had a 60 miler on the calendar and only the morning to do it. Things went well for a while but while managing a wet turn the bike slipped out almost dumping me completely. I didn't fall but the suddenness of the correction wrenched my leg and stretched out that already deconditioned set of muscles behind my right knee.
So I rode in the cold, and the wet and my leg hurt. (I know...BIIIIIIGGGG whah, whah, whah from those north of Texas.) And my projected speed plummeted. But riding by myself allowed me to stop a few times to rub out my leg and go at my own pace.
Since getting home its been a managed care approach based on RICE. A little concerned about a ten miler run as my next training session. But it's been nice to just get some couch time after a long week.
Merry Christmas!!
I have mentioned before that some tissue damage I got at my bike race last month has lingered around the back of my right knee. During a tough swim practice with lots of kick drills that day, it really tired the area out so we didn't wander aimlessly for hours, in fact I sat when i could.
The same night a storm came to the valley bringing lots of rain and wind and cold weather. Now look...Phoenix gets rain only a dozen days a year. Maybe only two or three that rain all night and into the morning, which is what happened this weekend. It usually a no-brainer to skip workouts on those wet mornings or go later when the roads are dry.
But I had a 60 miler on the calendar and only the morning to do it. Things went well for a while but while managing a wet turn the bike slipped out almost dumping me completely. I didn't fall but the suddenness of the correction wrenched my leg and stretched out that already deconditioned set of muscles behind my right knee.
So I rode in the cold, and the wet and my leg hurt. (I know...BIIIIIIGGGG whah, whah, whah from those north of Texas.) And my projected speed plummeted. But riding by myself allowed me to stop a few times to rub out my leg and go at my own pace.
Since getting home its been a managed care approach based on RICE. A little concerned about a ten miler run as my next training session. But it's been nice to just get some couch time after a long week.
Merry Christmas!!
Friday, December 7, 2007
Kind of feels like a race, at least my hearts beating fast
Life has been a whirlwind the last few years for Mistresses and I. Between the work, Mo's medical condition and the fact that he is almost five, my endurance training, all that, we really haven't gone out on a date as adults in a long, long time.
So Mo goes to grandmas for the night and we get to do...whatever. What do married couples do outside of the house without having to track a personable kid or have any other worries. Just two people who love each other and need to connect on a level that is not just shy of 4 feet tall and 50 pounds.
Kind of makes me nervous, like those mornings right before a race.
We're not young enough anymore to hit the bars and listen to bands. We don't, well I don't, dance.
Food is a given, someplace that doesn't serve fries or have a mascot would be preferred.
Movie? Maybe. We love movies but we can sit on the couch and not talk to each other when ever we want at home.
Window shop? I am not much for crowds but this is most likely how we will walk off dinner. All the decorations will be up and I haven't been in a mall in very long time. So that would be interesting.
But look. I mean, I'm not nuts. I still have a 60 mile bike scheduled for Saturday morning.
So Mo goes to grandmas for the night and we get to do...whatever. What do married couples do outside of the house without having to track a personable kid or have any other worries. Just two people who love each other and need to connect on a level that is not just shy of 4 feet tall and 50 pounds.
Kind of makes me nervous, like those mornings right before a race.
We're not young enough anymore to hit the bars and listen to bands. We don't, well I don't, dance.
Food is a given, someplace that doesn't serve fries or have a mascot would be preferred.
Movie? Maybe. We love movies but we can sit on the couch and not talk to each other when ever we want at home.
Window shop? I am not much for crowds but this is most likely how we will walk off dinner. All the decorations will be up and I haven't been in a mall in very long time. So that would be interesting.
But look. I mean, I'm not nuts. I still have a 60 mile bike scheduled for Saturday morning.
Wednesday, December 5, 2007
Taking the Pace out of the Case
I ended a long day of work Wednesday with a concussion headache and a dead phone after dozens of texts and calls. All that was left before me was a short, easy run; 3-4 miles just to see how the legs felt after the marathon just a couple days before. I told Mistress I would call back in no more than 45 minutes, tossed the phone in the car and headed out.
It must have been the cool weather and the pretty lights because at 3 miles I was averaging less than nine minutes a mile with a low RPE and no where near my car. So I turned around. While coming up to an intersection I realized I was exactly five miles into my run and one mile from my car. Now the nice thing about suburban sprawl here is that most major intersections are exactly one straight mile apart. At night with the stoplights, its presents a perfect sight line for distance to the next intersection.
With several feet before the crosswalk and the light in my favor, I opened up the case I had kept my 'all out' in while doing Zone 2 base training and just ran as hard as I could for one mile.
At first it seemed frantic. I focused on the stoplight up ahead of me and just willed myself closer as fast as I could. I looked at the pace on my watch, it read 7:04 per mile. I surged. A few hundred yards further I looked again, my pace was 6:48. Elation. The lights looks close in the cold air but I was not fooled; I had a half mile to go. I stole another look and the pace read 6:39. Unbelievable! I had to look closely to see my heart rate on my pumping arm and it was 180 bpm. Closer. Closer. Closer I came to the lights of my finish line. 6:20 reads my pace. Pumping my arms. Clawing the ground with my forefoot like a cougar grabbing dirt as it chases its prey. The light is right there in front of me. I ran the whole sixth mile as hard as I could after finishing a marathon Sunday and already running five miles this night.
A beep on my watch signals one more mile ran and I slow myself down, peeling into an empty parking lot. My split read 6:47.
A pumped fist, a prayer to God and an impromptu jig follows as I walk to my car gasping for air. Completely satisfied. I have a long way to go and a bumpy road ahead of me, but today was just one more reason to believe in myself.
It must have been the cool weather and the pretty lights because at 3 miles I was averaging less than nine minutes a mile with a low RPE and no where near my car. So I turned around. While coming up to an intersection I realized I was exactly five miles into my run and one mile from my car. Now the nice thing about suburban sprawl here is that most major intersections are exactly one straight mile apart. At night with the stoplights, its presents a perfect sight line for distance to the next intersection.
With several feet before the crosswalk and the light in my favor, I opened up the case I had kept my 'all out' in while doing Zone 2 base training and just ran as hard as I could for one mile.
At first it seemed frantic. I focused on the stoplight up ahead of me and just willed myself closer as fast as I could. I looked at the pace on my watch, it read 7:04 per mile. I surged. A few hundred yards further I looked again, my pace was 6:48. Elation. The lights looks close in the cold air but I was not fooled; I had a half mile to go. I stole another look and the pace read 6:39. Unbelievable! I had to look closely to see my heart rate on my pumping arm and it was 180 bpm. Closer. Closer. Closer I came to the lights of my finish line. 6:20 reads my pace. Pumping my arms. Clawing the ground with my forefoot like a cougar grabbing dirt as it chases its prey. The light is right there in front of me. I ran the whole sixth mile as hard as I could after finishing a marathon Sunday and already running five miles this night.
A beep on my watch signals one more mile ran and I slow myself down, peeling into an empty parking lot. My split read 6:47.
A pumped fist, a prayer to God and an impromptu jig follows as I walk to my car gasping for air. Completely satisfied. I have a long way to go and a bumpy road ahead of me, but today was just one more reason to believe in myself.
Top 100 hits
It all comes down to the next 100 days of perfect execution. That is all I have left to put deposits in my Bank of Ironman. After that is a couple key workouts and then one big withdrawal for Arizona.
Two winters ago I wrote about The Fever. Last winter I wrote about my success at Florida. This year I write about Belief. I believe I can do my best at this race if I do not take for granted the opportunities I have been given in this life and the preparation I have given myself. If I don't distract myself or delude myself I know that I am capable of more than I have seen.
There are many obstacles in my way. I have no illusions of my limiters and liabilities. But I also know the untapped potential in me. All it takes is one day at a time of quality effort and focus totaling 100 days in all.
As I have written before, Arizona is a funny place. While the rest of the country is enjoying their winters and off-seasons, I will be running 15-20 miles at a pop and riding outdoor century's every other weekend it will seem. I have never been more prepared for as much load as I will be handling. I believe in myself and I believe in my mentors and I believe, I believe, I BELIEVE, that this race will be much different that the others.
Two winters ago I wrote about The Fever. Last winter I wrote about my success at Florida. This year I write about Belief. I believe I can do my best at this race if I do not take for granted the opportunities I have been given in this life and the preparation I have given myself. If I don't distract myself or delude myself I know that I am capable of more than I have seen.
There are many obstacles in my way. I have no illusions of my limiters and liabilities. But I also know the untapped potential in me. All it takes is one day at a time of quality effort and focus totaling 100 days in all.
As I have written before, Arizona is a funny place. While the rest of the country is enjoying their winters and off-seasons, I will be running 15-20 miles at a pop and riding outdoor century's every other weekend it will seem. I have never been more prepared for as much load as I will be handling. I believe in myself and I believe in my mentors and I believe, I believe, I BELIEVE, that this race will be much different that the others.
Monday, December 3, 2007
Race Report #2 2008: Tucson Marathon 2007
Sometimes a race is more important than a finishing medal.
Part of my desire to make my first two races of the 2008 season non-competitive, is because I felt that I had to reconnect with the heart of endurance sport. I spent so much time training for Ironmans and PR's that it became all about me. All about me beating the clock and beating my team mates and others on the course.
John (an Ironman), Dan (an Ironman) and myself, all traveled to Tucson for John to PR the marathon. Dan drove all the over from San Diego.
John is a capable swimmer and cyclist, yet he falls apart on the run. In fact he doesn't run. At his Ironman he calculated exactly what pace he had to walk to finish before midnight and did exactly that, with the best attitude I saw the entire time on the course. So he has been training, through some pretty scary physical issues, to at some point PR the marathon distance. The Tucson marathon with its mostly downhill course provided the right impetuous for him. Dan and I signed on as his personal race support on the course.
The expo was small but fun. I love expos. But I left mostly empty hand because the PF Chang expo is massive and in just a few weeks. I met some locals that had also came down which always makes the time more fun. Later that night at Olive Garden I saw even more locals and it was like a dinner party. Triathletes for the most part are such fun loving people that when all they have to do is one of the three events, its very lighthearted.
The day started with freezingly could temps. At least to me. I have I must admit become a wuss for cold weather. I love cold inclimate weather but the prospect of standing in it for 90 minutes in just running shorts and tee-shirt before a race...forget it. So I wore three layers of clothing. The top most layer being a set of sweats that were tossed for donation after serving their purpose.
John was adamant about a 2:1 run/walk pace and started it immediately. Right off the bat because this is a small race, the three of us were in the very back.
Dan and I have met in the past, many times, but really bonded over the weekend. Great guy. Being Johns brother he was able to bring a level of motivation that I could not. He promised us a funny joke that he would tell us 500 times. Well he may have only said it 100 times but because he kept changing the punchline and after all the hours out there, it never got boring.
By 13.1 miles, John was in poor shape. We had moved off the 2:1 program for "small victory's", running to signs and landmarks ahead then walking a spell. There was wobble in the walk, pain in the knees, lots of sweating. But we kept him motivated and hydrated. To Johns immense credit he never once voiced negative concerns or said he wanted to stop. He took to heart my personal mantra of, "Ever Forward". Not once did he stop unless it was to perform some sort of maintenance such as stripping off layers of clothing or apply a bandaid or Vaseline to hot spots and never for long. Dan and I were able to run ahead to aid stations to fill bottles, we also took turns up front setting the pace or staying back to talk John through the effort.
He had a great streak between miles 14 and 20. He never failed to complete whatever distance we laid before him. At mile 18 the we saw the only spectators we had seen in hours. Dan ran blindly forward to thank them for their enthusiasm and patience as he had with all volunteers and spectators this day. As we got closer I realized they were friends. Tony and his finance must have waited a long time for us. Tony is a member of AZTRICLUB. John was quite moved by this selfless act. God I love this sport.
By 20 miles however, the grime reality was that we were not going to make the six hour race cut off in time. Undeterred we moved ever forward. The volunteers had long abandoned their stations but all the fluids remained. An oasis in the desert. But all thing must come to an end and the cones were all picked up and traffic reopened so for several miles we were forced to run on sidewalks and dirt paths.
When we finally got to the finish line, or the proximity of the finish line, we were warmly greeted by those that remained, had our chips removed and even received medals for our effort. How unexpected!! We were showered with iced drinks and remaining food, actually leaving with boxes of unopened finish line food.
I must say that I felt great. Though I had the expected soreness of being on my feet for that long, I had no blisters, no pains, no hot spots that I didn't already have before the race. The longest marathon I have ever run and maybe, quite possibly the most fun I have had in race. I was able to thank every single volunteer, support person and spectator. It was the final filling of my humble cup before the looming race season gets into full swing. I sought to learn the humility that one needs before undertaking the Heroes Journey described by Joesph Campbell and in my last two events I did exactly that.
In the end, the marathon ended the the only way the three of us knew it would. Three friends, Ironman's all, tucking into big plates of food and tall beers rehashing a long day of running with some laughing, some joshing and one last telling of a long tired joke.
Oh yeah, John PR'd the marathon by 40 minutes.
Part of my desire to make my first two races of the 2008 season non-competitive, is because I felt that I had to reconnect with the heart of endurance sport. I spent so much time training for Ironmans and PR's that it became all about me. All about me beating the clock and beating my team mates and others on the course.
John (an Ironman), Dan (an Ironman) and myself, all traveled to Tucson for John to PR the marathon. Dan drove all the over from San Diego.
John is a capable swimmer and cyclist, yet he falls apart on the run. In fact he doesn't run. At his Ironman he calculated exactly what pace he had to walk to finish before midnight and did exactly that, with the best attitude I saw the entire time on the course. So he has been training, through some pretty scary physical issues, to at some point PR the marathon distance. The Tucson marathon with its mostly downhill course provided the right impetuous for him. Dan and I signed on as his personal race support on the course.
The expo was small but fun. I love expos. But I left mostly empty hand because the PF Chang expo is massive and in just a few weeks. I met some locals that had also came down which always makes the time more fun. Later that night at Olive Garden I saw even more locals and it was like a dinner party. Triathletes for the most part are such fun loving people that when all they have to do is one of the three events, its very lighthearted.
The day started with freezingly could temps. At least to me. I have I must admit become a wuss for cold weather. I love cold inclimate weather but the prospect of standing in it for 90 minutes in just running shorts and tee-shirt before a race...forget it. So I wore three layers of clothing. The top most layer being a set of sweats that were tossed for donation after serving their purpose.
John was adamant about a 2:1 run/walk pace and started it immediately. Right off the bat because this is a small race, the three of us were in the very back.
Dan and I have met in the past, many times, but really bonded over the weekend. Great guy. Being Johns brother he was able to bring a level of motivation that I could not. He promised us a funny joke that he would tell us 500 times. Well he may have only said it 100 times but because he kept changing the punchline and after all the hours out there, it never got boring.
By 13.1 miles, John was in poor shape. We had moved off the 2:1 program for "small victory's", running to signs and landmarks ahead then walking a spell. There was wobble in the walk, pain in the knees, lots of sweating. But we kept him motivated and hydrated. To Johns immense credit he never once voiced negative concerns or said he wanted to stop. He took to heart my personal mantra of, "Ever Forward". Not once did he stop unless it was to perform some sort of maintenance such as stripping off layers of clothing or apply a bandaid or Vaseline to hot spots and never for long. Dan and I were able to run ahead to aid stations to fill bottles, we also took turns up front setting the pace or staying back to talk John through the effort.
He had a great streak between miles 14 and 20. He never failed to complete whatever distance we laid before him. At mile 18 the we saw the only spectators we had seen in hours. Dan ran blindly forward to thank them for their enthusiasm and patience as he had with all volunteers and spectators this day. As we got closer I realized they were friends. Tony and his finance must have waited a long time for us. Tony is a member of AZTRICLUB. John was quite moved by this selfless act. God I love this sport.
By 20 miles however, the grime reality was that we were not going to make the six hour race cut off in time. Undeterred we moved ever forward. The volunteers had long abandoned their stations but all the fluids remained. An oasis in the desert. But all thing must come to an end and the cones were all picked up and traffic reopened so for several miles we were forced to run on sidewalks and dirt paths.
When we finally got to the finish line, or the proximity of the finish line, we were warmly greeted by those that remained, had our chips removed and even received medals for our effort. How unexpected!! We were showered with iced drinks and remaining food, actually leaving with boxes of unopened finish line food.
I must say that I felt great. Though I had the expected soreness of being on my feet for that long, I had no blisters, no pains, no hot spots that I didn't already have before the race. The longest marathon I have ever run and maybe, quite possibly the most fun I have had in race. I was able to thank every single volunteer, support person and spectator. It was the final filling of my humble cup before the looming race season gets into full swing. I sought to learn the humility that one needs before undertaking the Heroes Journey described by Joesph Campbell and in my last two events I did exactly that.
In the end, the marathon ended the the only way the three of us knew it would. Three friends, Ironman's all, tucking into big plates of food and tall beers rehashing a long day of running with some laughing, some joshing and one last telling of a long tired joke.
Oh yeah, John PR'd the marathon by 40 minutes.
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