EverymanTri.com

Old School vs. New School

With the Tour De France (and a potential doping announcement ) just a few days away I thought it would be good time to highlight a new book I'm reading.

I’m reading the book “Lance Armstrong’s War” by Daniel Coyle. In the book Coyle follows around Lance as he trains and he prepares to win his historic sixth Tour de France. What you get is an insider’s view of Lances race preparation, strategy and thinking as he prepares to battle his arch rival Jan Ullrich for the top spot of the podium in Paris.

I was immediately struck by how completely different Lance’s preparation was for the race to that of Jan Ullrich. You could call it Old School vs. New School.

Let’s start with Old School and Jan Ullrich. He came up through the old communist East German system of cycling which basically could be summed up by the saying “though them against the wall and see who sticks.” In other words, the East Germans (along with their Russian counterparts) would identify potentially talented cyclist at a very early age and put them through a horrendously difficult regime of coaching, training and racing.

The ones that didn’t crack (or stuck to the wall to use the early analogy) would become the new stars of the East German and Russian cycling teams and go on to compete for the pride of their communist motherland.

After the fall of the Berlin Wall and the Collapse of the soviet Russia Republic it wasn’t long before these talented cyclist figured out they could make some serious hard currency racing in the newly opened West.  They figured it out at about the same time that the professional teams discovered this newly available pool of talent.

Besides Jan Ullrich you may know such names such as Alexander Vinokourov that came up from this Soviet Era regime of riding. All these guys were some pretty bad ass mother @@@$$&&**…if you know what I mean.

They only knew one way to ride and that was head down and full out. They would ride well beyond the normal pain threshold and revel in cracking the lesser and weaker riders.

They were also known for their outrages breakaways during the long stage races. More importantly they were known for staying out ahead of the peloton for dozens and even hundreds of solo miles, and often winning a stage by outrages displays of physical prowess and pain defying extreme rides.

It has often been alleged that a lot of this cycling ability came as much from the East German and Soviet doping techniques as it did from the natural talent and sheer will power of the cyclist…but that is a conversation for another time.

Lance Armstrong, on the other hand, took a completely different and more New School approach to cycling. He and his entourage of trainers, coaches, doctors, technical experts, and factory reps reduced everything to numbers.

The numbers came from the wind tunnel when picking the best bike. The numbers came from the power meter when analyzing his readiness to race. These numbers came from the scale when comparing his power to weight ratio. And the numbers came from the little machine that spit out his lactic acid threshold on the hood of his doctors car as he climbed and re-climbed a favorite training hill in his Spanish European home.

All these numbers were poured over, studied, and analyzed to the point that both Lance and his posse knew to the hundredth of a decimal place at what point Lance and his team had to be in their training to win the Tour.

More precisely, they knew the exact power to weight ratio that a rider had to have in order to win the tour. They took every possible variable and reduced it to a mathematic equation that let them see exactly what the human body was capable of at any given time in their training and eventually the tour.

You can also think of these two approaches to training and racing as left brain vs. right brain, or perhaps a better analogy and one that seems to fit would be the head vs, the heart. And therein lies the rub. It was Lances “New School” methodical (read mathematical) approach to training and racing that rubbed many “Old School” Europeans the wrong way.

To them bike racing was a sport of the heart. They were used to cheering for hard partying and hard riding cyclist. They wanted to see the passion of the sport on display when riders would push their bodies not by what the numbers said, but by what their heart said.

Keep in mind that many top “Old School” racers would come to the professional European cycling circuit completely fat and out of shape. They would use European races as training and hopefully have enough heart and stamina to win the big tours. This was the approach that Ullrich took. Every year the pro peloton money shot was the one that showed just how much of a big butt and belly Jan had at the start of the season. 

Lance was completely different. He would only race the Tour de France, and he came to the tour a mathematically perfect cycling machine. This cold and calculated approach to racing left many a fan cold and disinterested in the up stark American who seemed more interested in his power meter and heart rate than the pre and post parties of the tour.

The funny thing is that this old and new school approach to training and racing is very much alive today. It continues to both define the sport of triathlon as well as you and me.

As an example take a look at this brief video of  Ironman Champion Natascha Badmann as she explains the virtues of her radical Tri bike.

You’ll notice that not only is the video interesting in that it illustrates many of the newest and cutting edge (if not bleeding edge) advances in bike technology, but I  was completely surprised by her approach to racing.

You’ll see that she does not use a power meter, or even a standard bike computer. She simply has a watch stuck to the front of the bike to measure how long she has been riding. In other words, she seems to have a completely old school approach, and yet she is one of the most talented and winning Ironman of the last decade.

So I ask you…does your heart or your head rule your racing?

Are you old school or new school, or perhaps a little of both?

Inaugural Ironman 70.3 Kansas Race Review

Inaugural Ironman 70.3 Kansas Race Review
http://www.ironmankansas.com

EveryMan Rating: 3 Brewskis (except that I did not finish)

Rating Scale (based on the amount of beer needed after race)
• 4 Brewskis So excruciatingly painful and lame you’ll need a full year of recovery just to forget this race
• 3 Brewskis The best thing said and remembered about race is; I finished
• 2 Brewskis Challenging race in a masochistic I’d could do it again sort-of-way given enough time and Ibuprofen.
• 1 Brewski Good solid race that exceeds your expectations
• No Brewski A must-do annual event for both friends and family

Guess Whose New Casa?

You can read all about it HERE and see the rest of the photos.

There Comes a Moment...(Part 2)

Sometimes…there comes a moment in racing when your determination to win snaps like an over stretched rubber band.

Do you know that moment?

I can tell exactly when it happens to me. I know the exact instance when my day turns from racing, to surviving, to just wanting to finish.

My first Iron distance race was a bit of train wreck. I had purchased a new bike with an unknown set of problem wheels. So on a hot and muggy race day in Orlando, I spent much of the bike fixing flats.

Eight flats to be exact. My determination to race just kept stretching and stretching and stretching until by the seventh flat it snapped with an audible twang.

I remember sitting at the side of the rode begging the last few racers on the course for a spare tire so that I could fix yet another flat.

A young lady stopped and offered me one of her spare tires which I gladly accepted. She also offered me a peanut butter and jelly sandwich. It was pretty amazing as she had a steel worker-sized lunch box strapped to the back fender of her bike with a full load of wonderful snacks.

You must remember that at this point in the race I was with a bit more casual bike crowd. The areobar, disk wheel, areo helmet folks were long gone.

I remember saying to her after she offered me the sandwich, “No thanks, I just want to get back on my bike.”

And then rethinking and adding “You know…I will have that sandwich after all. Thank you very much!”

We sat by the side of the road with her munching on cool ranch Doritos and me enjoying a very leisurely PB and J. You could almost hear the snap as I went from wanting to race to just wanting to finish.

It was as if, in the blink of an eye I began to see the fluffy clouds, the bright Florida sun, the austere blue sky, and the boiling black road tarmac.

Before this moment all these things were just props in my play, or variables to be accounted for and forgotten. But now they were real and I was really living in the moment.

Perhaps it is the huge amount of physical exertion of a triathlon that heightens the senses? It is as if every minute becomes an hour and every hour becomes a day, and now I was living and relishing every second.

The pain and the pleasure combine into an intoxicating mixture of life. I could have sat by the side of the road munching on that sandwich forever, but eventually I once again heard the siren call of the finish line. It was time to get back on the bike.

It is funny how focused I become when I race so that the world around me shrinks until it fades into the background. My vision narrows and I only focus on the finish line. But when that rubber band snaps and the world turns back into clear focus, and the sights, sounds, and smells of the day fill my brain with wonder as if I’m drunk on life, that’s the moment that I both dread and happily anticipate.

I’m not saying that this is good or bad. It is just different and stark contrast between racing and just wanting to finish is so vivid that when this happens in a race, I always know.

Sometimes…there comes a moment in racing when your determination to win snaps like an over stretched rubber band.

Do you know that moment?

Sometimes…there comes a moment in racing when your determination to win snaps like an over stretched rubber band.

Do you know that moment?

I can tell exactly when it happens to me. I know the exact instance when my day turns from racing, to surviving, to just wanting to finish.

My first Iron distance race was a bit of train wreck. I had purchased a new bike with an unknown set of problem wheels. So on a hot and muggy race day in Orlando, I spent much of the bike fixing flats.

Eight flats to be exact. My determination to race just kept stretching and stretching and stretching until by the seventh flat it snapped with an audible twang.

I remember sitting at the side of the rode begging the last few racers on the course for a spare tire so that I could fix yet another flat.

A young lady stopped and offered me one of her spare tires which I gladly accepted. She also offered me a peanut butter and jelly sandwich. It was pretty amazing as she had a steel worker-sized lunch box strapped to the back fender of her bike with a full load of wonderful snacks.

You must remember that at this point in the race I was with a bit more casual bike crowd. The areobar, disk wheel, areo helmet folks were long gone.

I remember saying to her after she offered me the sandwich, “No thanks, I just want to get back on my bike.”

And then rethinking and adding “You know…I will have that sandwich after all. Thank you very much!”

We sat by the side of the road with her munching on cool ranch Doritos and me enjoying a very leisurely PB and J. You could almost hear the snap as I went from wanting to race to just wanting to finish.

It was as if, in the blink of an eye I began to see the fluffy clouds, the bright Florida sun, the austere blue sky, and the boiling black road tarmac.

Before this moment all these things were just props in my play, or variables to be accounted for and forgotten. But now they were real and I was really living in the moment.

Perhaps it is the huge amount of physical exertion of a triathlon that heightens the senses? It is as if every minute becomes an hour and every hour becomes a day, and now I was living and relishing every second.

The pain and the pleasure combine into an intoxicating mixture of life. I could have sat by the side of the road munching on that sandwich forever, but eventually I once again heard the siren call of the finish line. It was time to get back on the bike.

It is funny how focused I become when I race so that the world around me shrinks until it fades into the background. My vision narrows and I only focus on the finish line. But when that rubber band snaps and the world turns back into clear focus, and the sights, sounds, and smells of the day fill my brain with wonder as if I’m drunk on life, that’s the moment that I both dread and happily anticipate.

I’m not saying that this is good or bad. It is just different and stark contrast between racing and just wanting to finish is so vivid that when this happens in a race, I always know.

Sometimes…there comes a moment in racing when your determination to win snaps like an over stretched rubber band.

Do you know that moment?

There Comes a Moment...

Take a look at this photo of me shortly after my recent DNF at the inaugural Kansas 70.3. Please note the water bottle in one hand and the finisher's medal in the other, while the official is removing my chip.

This photo, almost two years after I wrote the column below, sums up all one thousand words of my writing in a way I could have never imaged.

There comes a moment in every race when I think to myself, “Why exactly am I doing this?”

It is usually when the exuberance and adrenaline of the start give way to the realization of just how long and how painful the rest of the race will be.

And let’s face it, in a race speed equals pain. In other words, the faster you go…the more it will hurt!

I think that we all know this fact somewhere in the deepest folds of our brains but we tend to hide it, or ignore it, or conveniently misplace it. I do this because if I didn’t, I would probably never enter another race again. It is only when I’m actually racing that this realizations comes screaming out of its hiding place like a runaway locomotive.

So when this realization inevitably hits the light of day, my brain asks the body, “So how much pain can you tolerate today?” And depending on the amount of training I’ve done, how I feel that day, the amount of mental energy I have to spend, and how badly I want to succeed and/or win, the answer comes back and the rest, as they say, is history.

It has taken me 6-years to get to even get to this point in my triathlon career. The first year of racing I never had the luxury to make this decision as it was already made for me. I started training and racing with little regard or knowledge or the sport. It was just something that I thought would be fun to try.

Besides, I thought to myself, how hard can a sprint triathlon really be? It is only a sprint after all.

I figured out the answer to this question on the bike when my legs turned to watery spaghetti at about mile 10 of the 20-mile bike portion of the race. By the time I got to the run, the only decision to be made was how fast I could walk the 5-miles to save a shred of dignity.

Click HERE to read about my first triathlon.

After the race as I was munching on Pizza and Beer I decided that I really liked the sport and that I knew nothing about how to train of race a triathlon.

The following year I threw myself into training and racing. I signed up for every possible race and made every possible mistake in the book. But as I slowly got better, and my endurance improved, I found that I could survive more of the race.

Instead of exploding on the bike, I could now wait until the run to crack like a walnut. The idea of actually racing never really crossed my mind as I just simple wanted to finish an Olympic triathlon running. In other words, not walking any part of the run and actually feeling good crossing the finishing line.

By the end of my second year I had accomplished this so I felt pretty confident when I entered my first half Iron distance race in the spring of my third year of racing.

“How hard can a half Ironman be,” I thought to myself when I entered the race? The answer became painfully obvious on the bike leg as I started to feel sick and weak. By mile ten on the walk I was completely dehydrated, with tunnel vision from heat stroke. It was the first and so far only race that I failed to complete.

Click HERE to read about this train wreck of a half Iron distance race.

By year three of my racing tri career I had a coach. It was my lovely wife that sorted this out and I’ll forever be grateful to her and my coach at the time Wes Hobson for this obvious necessity.

I had now spent almost three years trying to reinvent the triathlon training wheel. With the help of Wes I learned more about the sport of triathlon in three months than the previous three years. So much so that I was ready to try my first Ironman distance race. I would have preferred to race an Ironman, but I didn’t know that they sell out in about a half an hour.

Click HERE to read about how I just barely finished the race after having six flats on the bike.

Missed it by THAT much!

I just got this email from active.com regarding my recent IMCDA registration:

"Hi Roman –
 
We have noticed that you registered and paid $40 for an Ironman registration yesterday.  The listing for which you registered was set up by someone outside of the Ironman organization and is NOT an official Ironman registration form.  We have refunded your $40 as of this morning.  Please allow 5-7 business days for the credit to post to your account.
 
Online registration for the 2009 Ironman CDA will open today at noon PDT.  For more information regarding online registration please visit the official Ironman website at http://www.ironmancda.com. 
 
If you have any further questions please feel free to contact Mike Reilly.
 
We apologize for any confusion this may have caused.
 
Best,
 
The Active Network"

I don't think I'll bother Mike as I'm sure that he's pretty tired from announcing last night's athletes in Idaho, but the fact that active would allow this sort of this erroneous (or perhaps a better word might be scam) registration does raise some troubling questions about their fraud prevention procedures.

But I'll let somebody else ask them ;-)

Oh well, it was a fun lottery dream while it lasted.

Good luck to everybody signing up today! Official registraion opens at noon PDT today HERE.

Let the Fun Begin

Well gang I didn't really plan on doing an Ironman race next year but when I ran across this link ( I suspect this link will be shortly removed) today (Sunday) on active.com for the Coeur d' alene ford Ironman in 2009 I couldn't help but sign-up.

You see the registration for the race was posted on active for only $40.00. Normally an Ironman race costs $500.00 and the race does not open until the day after the race is held. That would be tomorrow.

So when I saw the link I naturally signed up. I agreed to all of the normal legal contractual conditions and guess what...? They processed by cc card and sent me my receipt.

As far as I can tell I'm signed up for the race and I have my prof right here.

So now for the more interesting part of this story.

Will they honor the binding contract that I just agreed to when I signed up for the race, or will they refund my money and tell me to take a hike, or will they give me an excuse that it was a technical glitch that allowed this registration within their system?

I believe I entered into this contract in good faith, paid my money (that they posted in full and signed up in good faith) so I expect to race in 2009.  

The question to you my faithful readers is what should I do?

1) Stick to my guns and expect to race
2) Pay an additional $460 for the race
3) Get my money back
4) Do nothing and see what happens

I'm all ears.

Thanks

BTW: A huge congrats to all of the team raceAthletes who competed today and got to wear the Ironman crown in Idaho again and/or for the first time. You guys rock!

You are what you eat

A few years ago my good friend Steve turned my 11-year-old son unto the travel show called Bizarre Foods.

In this goofy show Andrew Zimmern,  food writer, dining critic, radio talk-show host, TV personality, chef and teacher, travels the world looking for strange and unusual things to eat. He usually ends up munching on such delicacies as spiders, snakes, and worms (oh my) in far flung countries.

What's really amazing is that no matter where he travels, or whom he meets there is always one constant food that seems to have one constant function when consumed.

I am of course referring to that one unique part of the male anatomy that must not be shown in the movies in it's full glory.

There's an old joke that I think will help explain what I'm avoiding saying, and it goes like this:

A little boy is sunbathing on a nude European beach with his father when he points to his dad's wee and asks,  "what's that daddy?"

His dad, not wanting to have "that" conversation yet says, "We'll son, that's a duck and it has a long neck."

The little boy, not satisfied with the answer, points to his father's family jewels and asks, "Daddy what are those?"

The dad replies, "Why son those are the duck's eggs of course."

The boy still curious finally points to his dad bushy bits and says, "What's all that stuff dad?"

The father replies, "That's the duck's nest...now go and play son."

The boy runs into the surf and the father settles down for a bit of a nap. A short while later he wakes up with a massive pain in his private parts.

The dad looks around and sees his son with a bit of a confused look on his face. "Son did you see what happened," the dad almost screams out in pain?

"Well dad," the son says. "After you fell asleep I was watching the duck and it spat on me, so...I broke its neck, cracked its eggs, and burnt its nest."

For the sake of this story I am, of course, referring to the duck when I say that there is one food that Andrew Zimmern always eats that always has one constant function.

Not a real duck of course but "THE" duck from the joke.

So let me paint the picture for you. Andrew is in some Asia city when a hot plate of steamed, boiled, broiled, BBQ or even fresh ducks is brought out to him. Once again these are not real ducks, but you know what kind of ducks.

Andrew being the consummate, and I would suspect highly paid professional, looks at the plate of skewered and shriveled ducks and gingerly puts one into his mouth. At the same time the waiter, or perhaps his travel companion, explains that eating these ducks will make him much more of a man while giving him the thumbs up sign (wink wink nudge nudge), and doing an expanding motion with his his fingers to really emphasize the point.

Andrew thoughtfully chews on the fresh but shriveled duck (that have just come from an unlucky pig, cow, or perhaps sheep) for a minute, and comments on how spicy and tender this particular ducks is, and, "by the way my compliments to the chef for using just the right amount of garlic to bring out the taste of fresh duck."

It never fails, the local waiter than winks at Andrew and makes some comment about how lucky Andrew's wife will be tonight. Andrew smiles for the camera, digs in for a second helping of chewy ducks, and gulps it down with some strange local brew made from an unknown root. 

BTW: The same story basically holds true for the duck's eggs, which seem to also have the same property that the duck has when it comes to satisfying a man's wife.

So here's my question?

How come it is only the duck and the eggs that have this mystical property to enhance ones bedroom performance?

I've watched countless episodes now where Andrew has eaten pig, or chicken, or even cow's feet, yet the waiter has never smiled and said to Andrew that tomorrow he'll be able to run a marathon at a sub 5:00 minute pace.

I believe in one of the more recent episodes Andrew had a plate full of boiled chicken butts, yet nobody commented on how Andrew will now have the mystical bowel control of a zen toilet master.

In fact, I've seen Andrew eat a still beating snake heart, and just cooked brains, and stewed lungs, yet no local ever says that his heart, lung, and brain doc will now be out of a job. What they do say, and did say, after he ate the live snake heart is that his wife's a lucky women to have a man with such new found prowess in bed.

So what the heck am I supposed to eat to make me swim, bike, or run faster?

It seems that every culture in the known world has come up with a food to increase a man's virility. And what's really ironic is that it seems that the more endangered the animal, the more it pumps up the volume. For instance, I would bet that if a rhino's horn were shaped like a wilted rose, they'd be roaming the African Savannah like deer in Wisconsin.

But no culture in the world seems to care enough to have come up with a food for the endurance athlete. And perhaps that's a good thing. Just think what would happen to the world's population of sharks if word got out that eating shark's fin soup would actually make you a better swimmer instead of a better lover.

I can only hope for the endangered animal populations of the world that the far flung indigenous cultures of Asia still using rhino horn soon figure out that Viagra does the same job, and that it does it cheaper, faster, and without the need to kill some pointy horned animal that was just minding it's own business.   

HTFU...the unfinished tale of the inaugural Kansas 70.3 triathlon

I suppose I should have thought HTFU at that very moment, but I didn't.

Let me explain.

I'm about 2 miles from the finish line at the inaugural Ironman Kansas 70.3 race in Lawrence this weekend when I make a left turn to finish the last part of the final run loop.

But instead of running the last two miles a volunteer blocks my way, points toward the finish line, and says, "Sorry but we've called the race because of weather; you're all done!"

The Only Entry Fee is Celebrating your B-Day

Does the high cost of filling your gas tank have you down?

Are you rethinking your race schedule because of the soaring price of airline tickets?

Did you know that it can now costs over $150 to fly your bike ONE WAY?

Are you worried about blowing your race budget on just one race?

Don't worry! We've got you covered.

Why not take on the raceAthlete B-Fit B-Day Challenge where the only entry fee you need is celebrating your B-Day. Hundreds of endurance athletes are using the Challenge to measure their fitness against other athletes across the world.

Plus we've got some great Sponsor Premiums for just signing up on the web site. Everybody who signs-up gets a free sample of Hornet Juice and is eligible for free gear from 2XU and Rudy Project.

The raceAthlete B-Fit B-Day Challenge is a celebration of your life and
your health on your birthday.

Take your age and:
1) Swim the number of miles in the first number
2) Run the number of miles in the second number
3) Bike the number of miles in the combined number

So a 45-year-old athlete would:
1) Swim 4 miles
2) Run 5 miles
3) Bike 45 miles

The rA Challenge is a simple one. If you choose to accept the rA Challenge you must....

Bronze: Do all three (swim/bike/run) during the week of your Birthday.
Silver: Do all three (swim/bike/run) in the three days before, after, or during your Birthday.
Gold: Gold: Do all three (swim/bike/run) in 24-hours to celebrate your B-Day.

If you choose to accept the rA Challenge team raceAthlete will provide....

-- support, prizes, and a public way to track, record, and celebrate your results for completing the challenge inside or outside,
-- age group records for completion of any of the three challenges,
-- a caring community of endurance athletes to celebrate your birthday and your accomplishment.

Complete details, prizes and a new way to complete against an entire world of endurance athletes are now waiting for you at www.BFitBDay.com

Who let the dog out?

Picture this:

It is a sunny spring day, puffy white clouds hang overhead, a gentle cool breeze is caressing your skin, the birds are singing, the flowers are blooming, the insects are chirping and your trusted, and dare I say, faithful running partner is lazily jogging at your side, tongue out with his or her tail happily waging as you go for an early morning run.

You struggled out of bed to get the run in before work, but your dog was ready and eager to join you. Now the two of you are easily running down your favorite trail with your dog (red bandanna wrapped around his neck) easily and happily loping next to you.

At least that's the dream picture I have in my mind when I wake up and decide to take Happy for a run with me.

Happy, our 6-year-old Golden Retriever, does everything in her power to encourage that dream when I get up in the morning. She looks at me with those big brown eyes as if to say, "Let's go for that run you won't regret it!" To make her point, her tail is a flurry of back and forth activity that could shake the house to the ground.

She whimpers with joy and licks my face as I put on my running shoes. She almost jumps out of her skin when she sees me grab her leash, and she bolts straight out of the door as I open it.

However, it is not long before my fantasy of running with the dog is shattered.

We head down the driveway together and make a left turn at the sidewalk and Happy immediately puts the brakes on hard, stops to sniff an especially interesting spot in the grass where some unknown animal defecated the night before, and decides that this is a great time and place to go for a hearty roll to really capture the true stink of this mystery pee or poo.

I drag her from the stinky spot with all of my might, and we head down the road for about a minute or two until an even more sticky spot grabs her attention and eventually her fur.

Two minutes later she decides to poop which, by the way, is a good thing as I have a poop bag ready and waiting to collect the unhappy Happy waste from my watchful neighbor's lawn.

Four minutes later she decides to poop again which, by the way, is a bad thing as I only have one poop bag that is already full to the brim with her previous duty.  Of course, in all of the early morning tail wagging joy filled haste and excitement, I had forgotten to bring extra bags.

I now drag her sniffing and pawing from the scene of the foul crime before the homeowner pops out of his house to collect the morning paper only to find a steaming fresh pile of you know what glistening on his freshly manicured lawn.

For the next mile or so,  or at least until I get to the garbage can in the local park, I must run with Happy's leash in one hand, and a warm and very stinky bag of swinging dog duty in the other hand.

All this time Happy is going her best to stop and sniff every urine covered bush and blade of grass along the path, as I tug and pull on her leash to keep her moving forward, while at the same time keeping the toxic bag arm's distance from my nose.

Finally, I happily deposit the poop bag into the garbage can, and now we're finally ready to really run. Believe it or not, but you could be the world's fastest man in the London marathon and you would still run a  fifteen minute mile with Happy's leash in one hand and a fresh swinging bag uhhh, well dog shit to be precise, in the other.

With smelling, and rolling, and pooping and peeing out of the way the run can truly begin. Somebody please cue the chirping birds, the fluffy clouds, the gentle breeze, and freaking blooming flowers already!

Except that of course Happy has other plans.

She just must, and there's really no way to put this politely, sniff the ass of every dog that comes our way and that includes that cute white poodle bitch, and that frisky collie, and that big brown mystery dog that's always wet, and that old dog that I'm sure must have worms.

To Happy these butts present a world of mystery and wonder that never gets old, even as I pull and tug at her leash to keep her moving forward.

After about 15 minutes of this ritual we finally cross the railroad tracks and get on the gravel running path that runs along the small and newly swollen creek. I let Happy off the leash and with reckless abandon she plunges into the cold and fast moving water.

This is good, I think to myself at first, as it will hopefully wash away the stink from that mystery urine she just rolled in, but all too soon I realize that the strong current will soon take her to Nebraska. Unaware of the pending danger Happy laps at the water while swing lazy circles.

I sprint after her and desperately yell, "Happy come here girl!"

Who needs a track workout when you have a Golden Retriever on the fast boat to Nebraska?

She finally notices me after about a half a mile of going the wrong way down steam. She lazily paddles out of the water and immediately shakes half the content of the creek all over me. Now I'm out of breath, cold and wet.

And she's completely smell free. That is until moments later she finds a dead carcass of some long forgotten squirrel that she just must role in.

I yell at her to stop, but it is too late. She now smells like musty, wet, pee soaked, two week old rotting squirrel. She kinda smells like a dish of moldy broccoli forgotten in the microwave for two weeks. I know this smell well (don't ask) and I promise you that is a smell you will never forget should you be unfortunately enough to savor it first hand.

We continue or run down the path. Unfortunately Happy (true to her name) is very indeed very happy to meet any fellow runner, jogger, walker, or stroller with a proper doggy style nose in the crotch welcome. I of course discourage this not-so-formal doggy greeting style, but every-so-often she manages to get her nose into some other runner's or walker's business.

I turn red, apologize profusely, scold her more profusely, and run away as fast as possible.

That is until Happy spots a rabbit and decides to chase it...never mind that her path takes her right under the wheels of an approaching cyclist.

Once again I turn red, apologize even more profusely, scold her even more profusely and run away even faster. I decide I better put her back on the leash before she gets us both arrested for lude, crude and rude behavior with her wondering nose.

Back on the leash we start a new game of scratch and sniff, with her doing all of the scratching and sniffing and me doing all of the huffing and tugging.

After about an hour of this my house is finally back in view. She spots home, her ears perk up and she puts up a final might tug at her leash as she can see our destination.  We sprint the last half mile like we were shot out of a cannon. Or to be more precise, she sprints while I hold on to the leash for my life as she pulls me like a wayward wagon.

When we get home she plops down on the carpet worn-out, stinky, wet, and completely content, while I go upstairs to take a shower and daydream about the perfect run with the perfect dog.

As I come down stairs and see her snoring on her favorite rug I must  grudgingly conclude that it wasn't such a bad run after all. Perhaps tomorrow's run will be easier I ponder, with a smile on my face, as I head out the door to start my day. There's always tomorrow!

Nutritional Stress- Eating for energy!

I don't know about you, but I constantly struggle with my weight...so it is a real pleasure to have a nutrition pro and triathlete on board.

I'm thrilled to welcome a new nutrition partner. Her name is Liz Stein and she's a Certified Holistic Health Counselor. Please visit her web site www.appetiteforhelthyliving.com for some great nutritional programs for triathletes.

Below is just a short excerpt from her 8-week Endurance Training Nutrition Program. 

So many of my clients come to me with a high level of stress. Whether it’s from their jobs, relationships, the environment they are in or the food they are putting into their bodies.  Stress plays an enormous role in how our body functions. High levels of stress can lead to weight gain, fatigue, bad sleeping patterns, digestive problems and poor performance just to name a few.  It is important to keep our stress levels to a minimum.  The good news is that unlike other stresses we don’t have control over, such as our environment, nutritional stress is something we can directly change. With less nutritional stress you will see improved performance, increased energy and faster recovery.

Consuming too many refined foods causes nutritional stress. Refined sugar for example, is the ultimate stressor on our body. Because refined sugar is void of all fiber, minerals and nutrients, it is the definition of an empty calorie. When we consume refined sugar our body actually has to pull from our own reserves in order to metabolize and digest. Rather then providing nutrition the result is actually a deficiency.

In order to maintain a low level of nutritional stress in the body, we must nourish ourselves with the simplest, purest, nutrient rich whole foods. Think of the difference between eating a highly processed McDonald’s Cheeseburger and a banana. The later will be quite easy to digest and use for energy.  The cheeseburger on the other hand will require more energy to digest and therefore leave you with less energy to use. When we eat poorly (refined foods) extra blood is needed and drawn to the stomach to aid digestion.  Because it is drawn from other parts of the body, those functions slow down and cause stress in the body.

You want to try and think of eating low stress, easily digestible foods that will give your body the most energy and therefore improve your athletic performance. This includes fruits, vegetables, whole grains, nuts and legumes.  Raw foods can be very beneficial as there is very little energy needed to breakdown in your body as the enzymes are still intact making digestion quick and efficient (This is why smoothies are such a great recovery meal). With less energy spent on breaking down food- more energy can go to training and recovery!

Appetite for Healthy Living

Now I’m no nutritionist, nor do I play one on television, so I will be the first one to admit that my knowledge of healthy eating habits is pretty much taxed by this post.

But I am happy to announce that as of this week, this Blog has a partner who is an expert on nutrition and (get this) endurance sports.

Her name is Liz Stein and she's a Certified Holistic Health Counselor. Please visit her web site www.appetiteforhelthyliving.com for some great nutritional programs for triathletes. Tomorrow I'll be featuring some of her advice for a healthy diet for endurance athletes, but today you'll have to make due with my limited knowledge.

I know that we’re all supposed to shop at Whole Foods or Wild Oats, and cook a healthy and nutritious homemade meal made from organic vegetables, low fat meats like fish and perhaps some Japanese side dishes like endamane (green soy) beans.

Grasshopper, this is the way of the athlete!

However this is not the way of the modern Everyman athlete who has a job, family, dog, a tank full of fish, and mortgage. You know I really love to hate those cooking shows were the Chef prepares easy, light, and healthy meals that "we can all make in just a few short minutes."

I would love to make those meals. But first I’ll need a producer who will gather all the ingredients and put them in those beautiful glass bowls in the perfect amounts. Next a professional kitchen with studio lighting, and how about a team of interns to clean up my mess, feed the dog, change the fish filter, put away the dishes, clip the coupons and pick up the kids at school?

Oh by the way, the interns might as well fill up the car, get it washed and pick up my dry cleaning. Now I’m ready, in a Zen-like state, to cook that perfect healthy meal.

Jeez Louise, someone forgot to inform the producers that my kid will not eat fish, or any sort of bean, or for that matter anything that is green that is not called Sprite.

So gang, for the rest of us Everyman athletes who are occasionally forced to partake of fast food, I’ve put together a short list of workable alternatives to the hamburger and fries.

Please keep in mind that I really only have four simple rules when it comes to healthy happ fast food meals:

1) It must be healthy. By healthy I mean a common sense “healthy” which in my book means that the meal uses mostly fresh ingredients, it is not fried or nuked or in anyway cooked in grease or unsaturated fats.

2) It must be truly fast food in so much that I can order it, get it, and eat it after a 4-mile run over my lunch period.

3) It must be cheap. This means that I can purchase it, get a drink and still get change from a ten-dollar bill.

4) It must taste good.

What’s the use of a tofu spinach salad that is perfectly balanced with all essential nutrients and vitamins if it tastes like paper and glue? I’m not a big believe in healthy meals just for the sake of healthy meals.

Sure you may feel like you are “doing the right thing” when you have one of these healthy meals, but sooner or later you’ll break down and snarf down five dozen chips ahoy cookies like a contestant on survivor, day 30. The meal has to taste good, and you must want it to the extant that you crave it.

So here’s my short list of Everyman Healthy Happy Meal Fast Foods:

Restaurant Chain: Qdoba
Meal: Naked Burrito

You can order either a steak or chicken naked burrito at Qdoba and get it made your way. This means either grilled steak or chicken on a bed of rice and black beans with tomatoes, salsa, lettuce and your favorite hot sauce. To keep this meal truly healthy you have to walk away from the cheese, sour cream and tortia.

I’m not a big fan of any sodas so I tend to stick to unsweetened ice tea with a fresh wedge of lemon. The down side is that it colors your teeth, but the upside is no high fructose corn starch or funky sugar like chemicals. I also like to squeeze a couple of limes onto my naked burrito. I’m not sure that this makes it any better, but it sure feels healthy. All the limes you can squeeze are available by the soda machine.

Restaurant Chain: Noodles and Company
Meal: Penne Rose

From the companies web site; “Spicy red pepper-flaked tomato cream and penne pasta tossed with white wine, mushroom, fresh spinach and roma tomato. Parmesan or feta cheese.”

Once again I would skip the cheese and order some grilled chicken instead. They now offer this meal as combo with a fresh salad and drink. Try it and I believe that you’ll not only like it, but you’ll feel good about eating it.

This Boulder based chain has some of the freshest food in the fast food world. Not only do I like many
of their meals, but they also serve a wide selections of healthy bottled drinks and waters that go beyond your usual soda machine

Restaurant Chain: Whole Foods Market
Meal: Salad Bar/Soup Bar

Most Whole Foods Markets have a tremendous salad bar with about every organic vegetable and salad you could ever imagine. Build your own perfect salad in about 3 minutes and take it to the express lane check out for a quick, healthy, and easy meal. I also love their fresh soups if you want to go the soup and salad combo route. My personal favorite is the Matza Ball Chicken soup with a fresh roll from the bakery.

Word of warning. While it is easy to eat healthy from their giant salad bar, it is just as easy to overdo it. I especially recall the young ladies from my freshman collage days who somehow still managed to put on that freshmen fifteen, even though they only grazed at the cafeteria salad bar. And that’s just it…avoid the temptation to graze by creating a salad pyramid of eggs, cheese, nuts and creamy salad dressing.

Five "Green" ideas for the modern Endurance Athlete

If you are like me and you’ve been training and racing for a couple of years, you might find that you’ve accumulated a lot of stuff. Everything from old race numbers to finisher medals to old running shoes. Which of course begs the question; what to do with all that stuff in today's "eco" friendly world? So here are a few interesting ideas and suggestions to race Green.

5) Old Race Numbers

I remember reading somewhere that you should save your old race numbers, frame them in a decorative collage, and put them on the wall to have as a reminder of your glorious race days. I have a different idea. Most race numbers seem to be made of that special paper that does not tear (unless you pin it to your shirt at which point it tears immediately).

That's why I like to take my old race numbers and sew them into a quilt of shame. At night I use my quilt of shame as a reminder of all those races that I barely finished. As I snuggle under my quilt I fondly remember my past races…oh look there’s the marathon where my legs locked-up at mile 20, and I had waddle to the finish line for 6.2 miles. And look there’s the Ironman race number where I flatted 8 times. Oh here’s the half marathon that was so hot that I got tunnel vision, almost passed-out, and had to have my first IV. What a wonderful way to fall asleep.

4) Finisher Medals
Over the years I have accumulated a pretty large collection of finisher medals. You would think that they would be sized according to the distance of the race. You would be wrong. My largest medal is from a local 5K turkey trot I ran a few years ago in a tiny town, just next to my wife’s hometown, in the middle of Illinois. It seems that the more obscure the race, the bigger the medal. Keep this in mind next time you set your sights on the Boston Marathon. Perhaps you should be training for the annual Ogleby Turkey Trot.

I’ve always thought that all my medals would make for great wind chime. But recently I’ve had a much better idea; to start you’ll need about 10 dogs of different sizes and breeds. The medals make for great K9 bling. There is nothing more stylin’ than a hound sporting a gold and silver half marathon medal.

You’ll of course need different breeds and sizes as the medals come in different colors and sizes. For instance, you would not want to put that huge Ogleby Turkey Trot medal on a tiny toy poodle. That would look just silly. The best part of this idea is that the more races you run, the more dogs you can make over with their own doggy bling.

3) Running Shoes

If you are like me you probably have a closet full of old running shoes. They say that you are suppose to replace your shoes every 300 to 400 miles of running and that number keeps dropping. I’m sure Nike is working on disposable running shoes as I write this.

You could donate your old shoes to charity. There are a number of great people and agency’s that collect old running shoes and ship them to places in Africa where folks really have no shoes.

However, I have another idea. We all know that running shoes are made of super cushioning sole material. Why not put this technology to use where it is really needed…your car's bumper. Over the years the auto makers have refined the traditional car bumper to the point that if you happen to lean on a modern bumper too aggressively, you’ll either scratch or dent it.

I have great solution. Just take those old running shoes and glue them (sole out) to the most likely impact points on your bumper. Now you have a car that’s not only ready for the local mall, and any potential fender bender, but more importantly says to everyone “This driver is a serious runner!” (That is of course when he or she is not driving to the local mall to buy new running shoes.)

2) Cotton Race T-Shirts

With the advent of new technology like “Cool Max” breathable fibers, many of us now have drawers full of old cotton race T-shirts. If you are lucky, you may have a brother-in-law or sister-in-law that would love these old school workout clothes. Why? Because you know that nothing says I’m a hardcore weight lifter like a well-worn and properly torn cotton T-shirt.

If you are not lucky with the family connection here’s another idea. Seal-a-meal those shirts and place them in storage. Why? Because you know that 20 years from now nothing will say that I’m a hardcore old school runner like an old cotton T-shirt. Sure...they may make your nipples bleed on any run longer than 5 K, but that's just another sign that you are indeed a serious runner.

1) Water Bottles

Water bottles are certainly the favorite swag in any race swag bag. They come in two varieties. The soft kind you can squeeze (good) and the rock hard kind that cannot squeeze (bad). Have you ever tried drinking from one of the rock hard kind that take two hands to squeeze while running on a treadmill? Word to the wise, don’t or you could find out how fast 8 miles an hour really is when you catapult off the back of the treadmill into the glass partition wall of the nearby crowded women only aerobics class, who all stop and stare at you, as you lay half-naked, splattered with your butt tightly pressed against the glass wall. (Not that something like that has ever happened to me.)

So what to do with all those old water bottles. Here’s a simple idea; they make great cat hats. Unscrew the cap, drill two small holes in it, tie a string through both ends, and put it on your cat’s head. Magnifique les chic pussy cat. Now your cat will be stylin’ with the latest cool cat cap. After all you don’t want to make the cat feel left out since your dogs wearing all that medal doggy bling. Do you?

Post Script: No animals were hurt in the making of this story ;-)

Posted on December 13, 2005 in Running | Permalink |

If you are like me and you’ve been training and racing for a couple of years, you might find that you’ve accumulated a lot of stuff. Everything from old race numbers to finisher medals to old running shoes. Which of course begs the question; what to do with all that stuff in today's "eco" friendly world? So here are a few interesting ideas and suggestions to race Green.

5) Old Race Numbers

I remember reading somewhere that you should save your old race numbers, frame them in a decorative collage, and put them on the wall to have as a reminder of your glorious race days. I have a different idea. Most race numbers seem to be made of that special paper that does not tear (unless you pin it to your shirt at which point it tears immediately).

That's why I like to take my old race numbers and sew them into a quilt of shame. At night I use my quilt of shame as a reminder of all those races that I barely finished. As I snuggle under my quilt I fondly remember my past races…oh look there’s the marathon where my legs locked-up at mile 20, and I had waddle to the finish line for 6.2 miles. And look there’s the Ironman race number where I flatted 8 times. Oh here’s the half marathon that was so hot that I got tunnel vision, almost passed-out, and had to have my first IV. What a wonderful way to fall asleep.

4) Finisher Medals
Over the years I have accumulated a pretty large collection of finisher medals. You would think that they would be sized according to the distance of the race. You would be wrong. My largest medal is from a local 5K turkey trot I ran a few years ago in a tiny town, just next to my wife’s hometown, in the middle of Illinois. It seems that the more obscure the race, the bigger the medal. Keep this in mind next time you set your sights on the Boston Marathon. Perhaps you should be training for the annual Ogleby Turkey Trot.

I’ve always thought that all my medals would make for great wind chime. But recently I’ve had a much better idea; to start you’ll need about 10 dogs of different sizes and breeds. The medals make for great K9 bling. There is nothing more stylin’ than a hound sporting a gold and silver half marathon medal.

You’ll of course need different breeds and sizes as the medals come in different colors and sizes. For instance, you would not want to put that huge Ogleby Turkey Trot medal on a tiny toy poodle. That would look just silly. The best part of this idea is that the more races you run, the more dogs you can make over with their own doggy bling.

3) Running Shoes

If you are like me you probably have a closet full of old running shoes. They say that you are suppose to replace your shoes every 300 to 400 miles of running and that number keeps dropping. I’m sure Nike is working on disposable running shoes as I write this.

You could donate your old shoes to charity. There are a number of great people and agency’s that collect old running shoes and ship them to places in Africa where folks really have no shoes.

However, I have another idea. We all know that running shoes are made of super cushioning sole material. Why not put this technology to use where it is really needed…your car's bumper. Over the years the auto makers have refined the traditional car bumper to the point that if you happen to lean on a modern bumper too aggressively, you’ll either scratch or dent it.

I have great solution. Just take those old running shoes and glue them (sole out) to the most likely impact points on your bumper. Now you have a car that’s not only ready for the local mall, and any potential fender bender, but more importantly says to everyone “This driver is a serious runner!” (That is of course when he or she is not driving to the local mall to buy new running shoes.)

2) Cotton Race T-Shirts

With the advent of new technology like “Cool Max” breathable fibers, many of us now have drawers full of old cotton race T-shirts. If you are lucky, you may have a brother-in-law or sister-in-law that would love these old school workout clothes. Why? Because you know that nothing says I’m a hardcore weight lifter like a well-worn and properly torn cotton T-shirt.

If you are not lucky with the family connection here’s another idea. Seal-a-meal those shirts and place them in storage. Why? Because you know that 20 years from now nothing will say that I’m a hardcore old school runner like an old cotton T-shirt. Sure...they may make your nipples bleed on any run longer than 5 K, but that's just another sign that you are indeed a serious runner.

1) Water Bottles

Water bottles are certainly the favorite swag in any race swag bag. They come in two varieties. The soft kind you can squeeze (good) and the rock hard kind that cannot squeeze (bad). Have you ever tried drinking from one of the rock hard kind that take two hands to squeeze while running on a treadmill? Word to the wise, don’t or you could find out how fast 8 miles an hour really is when you catapult off the back of the treadmill into the glass partition wall of the nearby crowded women only aerobics class, who all stop and stare at you, as you lay half-naked, splattered with your butt tightly pressed against the glass wall. (Not that something like that has ever happened to me.)

So what to do with all those old water bottles. Here’s a simple idea; they make great cat hats. Unscrew the cap, drill two small holes in it, tie a string through both ends, and put it on your cat’s head. Magnifique les chic pussy cat. Now your cat will be stylin’ with the latest cool cat cap. After all you don’t want to make the cat feel left out since your dogs wearing all that medal doggy bling. Do you?

Post Script: No animals were hurt in the making of this story ;-)