yet another bust in the training schedule...

i was determined to get to training in earnest this weekend, since the coming month is pretty race-intensive and the only training under my belt is freakin' wildflower. i've got the boulder bolder 10k (with carrie and bolder) on memorial day weekend, and then the 5430 sprint triathlon (again with bolder) three weeks later.

of course, as seems to be the rule in 2007, my body has again conspired against me. i came home from CA to a little boy with a runny nose that soon morphed into a nasty cough, and yesterday it hit me - and hit me hard. phlegm-coated throat, sore and scratchy throat, same nasty cough. and zero energy.

i'm not afraid of self-medicating (at least of the over-the-counter variety), and i'm obsessive about the use of robitussin, tylenol cold, and dayquil to fight off every cold. this time is no different - except i may be more determined to let the low-strength chemicals do their work. i need to get better, because i'm sick and tired (no pun intended) of having an excuse not to train...

with no other races scheduled after june 17 (not yet, at least), this is the time for me to push myself. i just hope my body will allow that to happen...

will all these words make up for the months of not posting?

i finished.

(does that count as a race report?)
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on easter sunday, i was at dinner with family when something hit me. i'd been stressed about wildflower coming up because (for a number of excuses) i hadn't managed to do any training for it. and by no training, i mean i'd run a total of about 40 miles in 2007, had accumulated about 3000 meters on the swimming meter since august, and hadn't put my feet on bike pedals since late summer. i still planned on making the trip in support of carrie, and to make myself take some time away from all that's been going on - but it hit me that i didn't need to do the race. they could have my $130. it wasn't worth the stress. the relief at coming to that realization lifted a huge weight...

a week before the race, i still was planning on not competing. i still hadn't made any time to train and i didn't think my body could possibly make the triathlon happen - especially considering the rumorred course difficulty. but slowly i came to realize that the likelihood of staying out of the water might be difficult. i thought - i'll bring the bike and my gear, and if i feel like giving it a shot... well, the worst that could happen is that i wouldn't finish, right?
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carrie and i hit the road late-afternoon on thursday, excited for the road trip and a chance to catch up on all the family and blog-land gossip. the first five hours went by in a flash (primarily because we had a lot to chat about), and we managed to coincide an empty gas tank with the first town we'd seen in what seemed like 3 hours. after dinner at denny's, it was back in the car for the remaining 5 hours to las vegas. it had been 12 years since i'd been in vegas - which also happened to be at 2:00 in the morning. this time, though, carrie and i blew through 20 bucks apiece before calling it a night...

with plenty of rest, we left vegas late friday morning - looking forward to the five hours left on our trip and sun to see the natural beauty of the nevada/western-california landscape. unfortunately, nothing about that five hours of natural beauty had any merit. five hours became seven, natural beauty became stark, dry, and perpetually gusty moonscape. and chris became grumpy. but we found the race venue, hooked up with the tri-blogger alliance folks, and set in for a wonderful weekend...
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my wave went off at 9:40 on sunday morning. and i went with it. my expectations were low... i knew i'd make it out of the water one way or another, but also knew the bike course was a bear. and because the half-ironman competitors from the day before had described the merits of the run course in great detail (and not very meritoriously), i figured there may be a real possibility that i wouldn't finish. but i intended to give it all that i had, and remind myself why we need to find time to train...

the swim went remarkably well, considering the intense preparation i'd done. i even managed the same pace as the two tris i did last summer, each shorter than the wildflower olympic distance. sighting wasn't a big issue, i only swallowed a couple gulps of lake water. and i had the energy to run out of the water to transition...

and then there was the bike. the first mile - all climb, and not a small one. i'll admit - i didn't make it all the way up... i had to dismount and walk the last 200 meters. not riding the bike for 8 months - maybe not a good strategy for wildflower, in case you were considering it. the bike course was a terrain-packed out-and-back, with lots of granny-gear climbs and fast descents... and while i didn't break any records (okay, i finished in the bottom 25% on the ride), i didn't have to dismount again and i made it back to transition in one piece...

all that was left was the run. i knew the run was mostly uphill for the first 5 miles, with the last mile all downhill (covering the entire climb that we'd done to begin the bike), but i didn't anticipate just what i was getting into. there were hills, to be sure, and then there were hills. i had decided early-on that i didn't have to run the entire course, and it made me enjoy the run that much more. where the hills got the best of me, i simply let them. and even through the walking, i still managed to finish the 10k in under an hour... not something i'd ever be okay with, but in this case it was about finishing. and when i heard my name coming down the finishers' chute, i felt a sense of pride. not in the quality of my performance, but in the knowledge that i had made it. with no training. on that course. my first olympic distance tri under my belt...
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after a shower and packing up our camp site, carrie and i hit the road - both of us anxious to get back home to our waiting kids. 17 hours in the car immediately after a race is perhaps not highly recommended, but we made it. after a whirlwind weekend, meeting a bunch of new and welcoming people, 2500 miles in the car - and a mile in the water, 24 on the bike, and 6 on our feet. it was an experience i won't forget, and don't plan to replicate (well, at least the driving part).
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at the end of the day, this is what i'll take away from wildflower:

the tri bloggers out there are great. curly su, donald, iron jenny, triboomer, trigreyhound, taconite boy, trimama, kahuna and wil - thanks for welcoming me in... it was a pleasure meeting you all.

bolder, you're seriously a terrific guy. huge thanks for your support, and for letting my borrow your brand-new wetsuit. sorry we didn't get to spend more time with you.

carrie, it was a great trip. thanks for encouraging me to do the race - and for making sure i had something to eat. we may be the black sheep, but at least we're the same shade...

living at altitude makes sea-level races do-able - even with no training.

training is critical.

i'm not happy with my result - and that's motivation to get myself back into training mode. but i am proud that i made it through, and did so with a smile on my face.

i'll be back to wildflower, next time much better prepared.

roadtripping...

tomorrow, i leave on the first real road trip i've been on since college.

back in the day, road trips were the norm. see, i was on the crew team in college. at the university of colorado. yes, we had a rowing team at old cu. in the middle of the high desert. problem was - we were it in the rocky mountain region, meaning every regatta we competed in meant a long road trip...

thers's something about putting college kids behind the wheel and in charge of tens of thousands of dollars of equipment and dozens of lives. but at the time, that's the only way we could operate. we were a club sport (actually, we didn't even have that level of funding) and if we wanted to go anywhere, we had to go it alone. so we drove, hundreds (or thousands) of miles, through the night. to places like des moines. and waco. madison. manhattan (kansas). wichita and kansas city. austin. sacramento.

we were never supposed to be competitive. i joined the team in it's second semester of life, when we literally had only a 30-year old donated wrecked shell (that's "boat" to you non-rowers) that weighed three times what our competitors were racing in, about a dozen rowers... and a whole lot of passion for what - to most of us - was a brand new sport. in my first race, we lost our skeg and never found our balance - but we never gave up, either in that race or for the next three years. and by the time i graduated, we had boats that medalled in both the midwest and western rowing championships. and while almost every other division 1 team was bussing or flying their athletes to races, we were driving ourselves...

and now tomorrow, we drive ourselves again. i don't think carrie understands why this is okay to me. i mean, who wants to drive 17 hours when there are perfectly good flying machines navigating the air space that could get us there in a fraction of the time? but this trip is a reminder of my past. of the days when you went to a race because it was there - and it matterred little where "there" was. of the days when vacation meant packing a big cooler, making fresh mix tapes, and driving to a race with the people that have trained for the same goal... that out of town race.

and perhaps i haven't exactly trained for wildflower... but i'm going to do it (i'll at least *start* it). but more importantly for me, i'm going to roadtrip with my sister to a starting line and a group of people who feel about this race like i did when i was 22 heading to the middle of kansas, and feel - finally - again.

i look forward to seeing all of you cyber-space triathletes at the lake. safe travels...

hold your kids tight...

tomorrow, a 15 month old is laid to rest.

a good friend of mine lost her daughter on friday morning. two little girls lost a baby sister, and a father lost his love. there was no warning. during the course of the night, the toddler went from playing with her sister to a horrible, inexplicable fate...

it's impossible to find the words to describe the sorrow that i feel for this family. the worst fear a parent could realize. i can't begin to guess how many times i've crept into ian's room late at night, leaning in close - anxious for the sound of a breath. the instinct of protection is inate, and there's no greater fear in my heart than the inability to protect my son. knowing that my friends are experiencing that most basic fear breaks my heart, and leaves me helpless to console.

i know tomorrow's funeral is going to be incredibly difficult to bear. seeing parents say goodbye to their little girl, not being able to fathom the sense of grief and loss that they are experiencing. and realizing that - no matter how protective we may try to be as parents and no matter how intensely (or intently) we love them - we can't control everything... their fate at times belongs to something even larger than we are.

it's not snowing anymore...

it's been pointed out to me that's it's been a bit since i last posted. and here i'm thinking - it hasn't even been four months yet... what could possibly happen in my life in four months to write about?

i'll give 'em this... a few things have gone down. small things. like i finally sold my house. (does my contracting on a new house, cancelling that contract, contracting on another new house, planning the remodel, discovering that the seller owes much, much more than i was paying and - ergo - his bank refused the sale one week before closing, count as news? nah...)

oh, and i moved into a new house. (do i mention that - given the homelessness threat of aforementioned sale falling though - i had to scramble to find a rental for ian and myself given that one week is a::little too little time to find and close on a new house?)

and then there's this triathlon i'm supposed to do next weekend. (it's called wildflower. somewhere in california - you may have heard of it. i signed up in december, and then came january and february and march and april, and an extended cold and a move and a whole lot of stress and a decision to back out of the race... except that, thanks to my sister'sgentle urging, i won't be able to not compete.)

and then there's this consideration i like to call bealms. (but that's not even a real word, so how interesting could that be?)

i suppose there could be something interesting about my ex-wife's most recent decision (more than parentheses involved there) and my new rug (deep, plush shag) to talk about... but i can save those stories for another day. and really - i am hoping there's another day. because i do need this outlet - and i think it's become a deeper need than the living vicariously through all your lives that i've been doing...

i think i'm back. at least, i hope i am...