M-Dot Tattoo; Cool or Fool

When the day arrives that I qualify for and complete my first Kona Ironman race, I think I will get myself an M-Dot tattoo. The question is would I be foolish to do so? By getting this tattoo, am I simply being sucked into the hype of being an Ironman Triathlete or is this a heart felt way of expressing what you love to do?

I have just returned from IMLP with my family. My wife found the atmosphere surrounding the race environment and the Ironman experience as completely bizarre and cult-like. I on the other hand love the experience and feel as though I am among a community of like-minded folks.

I do agree that some people take the whole thing a bit too seriously and do not take the time to enjoy themselves. Having a wife that is a turned off by the environment, did manage to put a damper on my week, but not so much so, that I didn’t appreciate being there and sign up for next year.

So, back to the original question… M-Dot permanently etched into your skin – Cool or Fool?

The Days After

The worst part of racing has to be the days immediately following the race. I am continually racked with intermittent feelings of intense depression and don’t know what to do with myself to get over it. I can’t even go out for a decent run, since my legs are too tired to generate much of a pace and the subsequent exercise induced endorphin flow.

I am sure other athletes experience these feelings. After all of the noise and hoopla surrounding the race is over, you are left with a profound silence as your ordinary work day routine returns. The passion that drove you for so long has to take a temporary backseat, while you return to your daily work grind.

I so much just want to go out with my family and swim, bike, run, hike, climb and play. I wish I could make a living by simply playing with my kids and training all day. I can’t wait for Friday to arrive so I can enjoy my children and the sun without the burden of training and work.

Athlete Reflections

In reply to Walter…

Walter -

You had a great race. The problems you had were small and only due to excitment and lack of experience with racing. As you get more confident with racing, you won't make such mistakes.

During the race, I was uncomfortable and miserable for the entire time. However, I knew I was having a good day and felt I nailed it. I couldn't have done it any better. i didn't think I could complete it until I crossed the line with my children.

I did well for my AG, but I knew I wouldn't qualify for Kona, so I didn't stick around. I have no idea how close I would have come. I will be pissed if I find out I gave up a spot.

I already signed up for next year and I will probably sign up for Florida as well.

Right now, I am really struggling to battle off post race depression. I just do not want to be at work right now.

I trained today for the first time since the race. I went out for 3 miles, but I think I only ran about 2 in 25 minutes. No strength in the legs to do much of anything right now. They are not sore, just tired. Maybe I will swim tonight.

Charles
----- Original Message -----
From: walter
To: Beast
Sent: Tuesday, July 26, 2005 10:27 AM

charles, having time to reflect on this first ironman here r my thoughts. First the swim start was wild and feel confident my swim technique will improve but i was happy with the time. first transition sucked put my top on first before the bib shorts and had to then take everything off and start over. the bike was fairly straight forward. Neil said hold back and i did maybe should of gone a bit harder. neext transition was ok except the volunteer dropped my top with all my pills and nutrition and much to my dismay on mile 1 i realized i had no electrlytes with me.I was able to bum some off someone on the run, but it was few and far between. The splits on run were 2hrs and 3 min and 2hrs and 43 min.I think my wife could of run faster. Overall a fun day and i did cross the line with a smile and the thought of how much faster and better the nent one will be. How close to hawaii did u get?

Ironman Lake Placid - 2005

While I was doing this race, I found it to be as pleasurable as dipping myself naked in honey and lying on an ant hill. I was uncomfortable and suffering for almost the entire race. I did not have that magic moment when I knew I would be able to cross the finish line. I didn’t know if I could, until I saw my kids waiting for me by the finishers shoot to cross the tape with me.

I did run a very good race. I held back on the bike through the first loop, which set me up for a strong second loop and an excellent run. For the first time in a Long Course Triathlon, my run was the strongest segment. I missed breaking 4 hours in the marathon by 4 seconds, only because I slowed down to run with my children across the line- 4 seconds very well spent. My swim was also good. I did the 2.4 miles in 1:02:54, which is over 5 minutes off my previous best. The 112M bike was in 6:01 – a bit slow, but oh well.

I pretty much knew I wasn’t going to be able to qualify for Kona on the first loop of the bike. My time was much too slow to give me the time I needed. I wasn’t riding poorly and could have gone harder. I knew if I did though, I would suffer on the second loop of the bike, and probably have a much slower run. To keep myself in check for the times when I felt the urge to push, I would sing to myself self the song “Relax, Don’t Do It” by Frankie Goes to Hollywood. It worked.

Even though I knew Kona wasn’t going to be in the cards, I did have some other goals for the race – Set a PR, break 11 hours and most importantly, beat my friend Todd. Todd had given me shit for the past year that he was a better athlete and would beat me in the race. I knew if I could stick to my race plan that he had no chance of doing so. I told him I would pass him on the bike and he would never catch me on the run. This is exactly what happened. At the end of the race, 11 minutes separated us.

Todd and I had a bet on the outcome of our race. Todd will now have to wear a T-Shirt stating that I am the better athlete and that I kicked his ass in Lake Placid. I invite any ideas for colors, wording, etc.

Here are the records for my 3 completed Ironman’s.

2004 IMLP – 11:28:01, 460 Overall, 109/344 for the Age Group (M35-39)
2005 IMAZ – 11:21:20, 278 Overall, 66/348 for the Age Group (M35-39)
2005 IMLP – 11:11:25, 251 Overall, 51/382 for the Age Group (M40-44)

I am going to sign up for the 2006 IMLP. I am sitting at a restaurant as I type this, furious hitting the refresh key on Active.com for the registration to come up. My parents came with me this year and the entire family had a very good time. Next year will be the year I qualify.

Race Number 992

I don’t know if it has any significance, but my race number for Ironman Lake Placid is the same number I had for Ironman Arizona – 992. I tried to find a numerology website to see if the number has a special meaning, but I wasn’t able to find a site where I can just submit that number and get results.

All I have left to do is make my fuel bottles and go to sleep. No time like the present to get that done.

992

Mortality

I am in Lake Placid and as soon as I got into my hotel room, I felt this big heavy weight hanging over me. I am not too concerned about it though, as I am pretty sure the architects of this hotel engineered it to withstand the forces of all the parked cars above me.

My hotel room is literally under my car, along with a dozen or so other vehicles. It is the Hilton’s waterfront rooms and I have a door in my room that leads me right out onto Mirror Lake. Last night I was treated to the reflection of the full moon reflecting off the lake, right into my room. This morning, I was presented with mist coming off of the lake, diffusing the rising sun’s rays. Both vistas were quite beautiful.

This morning I am torn with the decision to walk to the Gatorade swim and then swim 1 mile back to my room, or vice versa. The only problem with both scenarios is that it will be difficult to walk back or I won’t be able to swim back with my Gatorade swag. Perhaps I can swim to the start with a pair of flip flops tucked into my wetsuit and then walk back.

I didn’t actually sleep well last night. My son wanted to sleep with me and he is such a twisty turning sleeper. I am just as likely to have his arm plop over my face as I am to have his feet smash me in the nose. If I am going to get a decent night’s sleep before the race, I’ll have to make sure he sleeps in another bed.

I am pretty sure I packed everything I need for the race. So far I discovered only one item that I forgot, but that wasn’t critical. I did almost forget my helmet.

My parents are here with me this time around. Hopefully, they won’t be too loud and obnoxious and cause me embarrassment. The other day my wife told me that my mother (step mother), told her that my father gave her some number to call in the event he should die. Evidently he has not been feeling too well lately and is perhaps thinking that he is about to croak. The thought creeps me out and I wish there was something that I could say to him about it. He has always been private about his feelings and would not engage me in conversation should I bring the subject up to him. At least I will get to spend some quality time with him for the next few days. I love my father, but we haven’t really been bonded together for quite some time. I am a lot like him in many ways and different in so many others.

I hope I will always be very close to my children and involved in their lives throughout adulthood. I would love to do races and other events with them on a regular basis. My friend Larry is doing this year’s IMLP with his daughter Larissa. I can’t think of how it gets better than that. Endurance sports are one of the few activities where father and child can compete on the same playing field.

Should it happen to pass in the future, where I am sick and dying, I want it to be known that if one of my children are about to compete in an event that they have been preparing, they should continue with their event. I want them to celebrate their lives and remember mine while they are pursuing an activity they love.

Heat Acclimating, NYC Style

The weather in NYC has been very hot and humid over the past couple of days. This presented me with the perfect opportunity to heat acclimate for Ironman USA Lake Placid in NYC style. I am doing this by wearing a suit, jacket and tie as I am required to do so for proper business attire.

As I walked along the streets of Manhattan and through the subway tunnels, I wore my jacket with my collar buttoned and my tie on properly. This was in contrast to most men on the street that are walking around with open collars, tie-less and jacketless. I will admit that my shirt sleeves are a bit damp from sweat, but the rest of my shirt is relatively dry, thanks to the cotton t-shirt I am wearing underneath it.

Personally, I feel that the discomfit I feel from the heat and humidity is more than made up for the pleasure I get from seeing all the young women walk around in summer attire. I am always amazed at what passes for proper attire on women during the summer months. The fairer sex it appears, gets to wear hardly anything.

One Week to Go

I think I may have hope for my son to be a Triathlete. Today in our small backyard pool, I found a game that he particularly relished. I tossed in the water a handful of quarters and told him to try to find them. He took off underwater plucking the quarters off the bottom like a treasure hunter scuba diving in the deep sea.

Previous to this day, he was always reluctant to let his face, much less his body, go underwater. The prospect of acquiring the money from the bottom of the pool proved irresistible and it appears that he is on his way to becoming a swimmer. He already likes to ride his bike and always wants to race me down the block when we are out for a walk.

I will be very happy if my son truly does want to become a triathlete. It is something that we can seriously pursue together. I look forward to the days that he is able to accompany on his bicycle while I go for a long run around Prospect Park. He has been mentioning the Ironman several times lately and I think he is beginning to become interested in what it is all about.

Speaking of Ironman, only one week remains for me to get ready for Ironman Lake Placid. This means doing whatever I can to remain injury free and illness free. For some reason this appears as though it will be tougher than it should be. In the past few days, I stubbed my big toe tremendously hard, scratched the bottom of my feet, and banged my shins. I don’t know if I am being hyper sensitive to injury or if something is in the air.

Today I am having a pre Placid Ironman shindig. Only a few friends from my local triathlete minded environs will be attending. I do not think my wife is too happy with this gathering. She is very far removed from my Ironman and endurance obsessed world. I believe her opinion is that we are all obsessively compulsive and can’t understand why someone would want to put them through such grueling events.

I am unable to explain the appeal of doing such races. I guess I just feel more alive when I am suffering through a race, or get that endorphin flow when I finish a good workout. I guess part of it is a feeling of satisfaction and pride to know that you can do what many others can’t or won’t. It is like I am attacking my life, instead of letting it pass before me.

New York Crazy

I supposed in New York City you could see all sorts of crazy. This could vary from homeless people on the street, performers doing outrageous acts, religious fanatics proselytizing to all that will listen to drunken people wandering out into traffic.

I exhibited my own sense of NYC crazy a couple of days ago when I went to pick up my bicycle from my personal mechanic. He just prepared it for me to use at the upcoming IMLP and I went to pick it up after work. To get it home, I needed to navigate it to the subway while carrying an extra set of wheels, my laptop, umbrella, lunch box and assorted work papers. I was wearing a full suit with tie and in my dress shoes.

Being the impatient sort of person that I am, I decided that I would ride the bike to the subway to save time. I headed from the vicinity of 89th Street and First Avenue with the intention of getting on the 4,5, or 6 train at 86th and Lexington. When I arrived at this intersection, I decided that I should just continue down to 63rd and Lexington to catch the F train. This was the line I would need to take to get home and I decided that I was managing the ride just fine and didn’t want to deal with transferring trains.

I could only imagine what I looked like while riding alongside the Taxi cabs and busses dressed like I was. I had no helmet and was speeding on the mostly downhill trip to 63rd. Just riding without a helmet is crazy enough, but I did relish the though of what I looked like. I had my right suit pants leg tucked into my sock to prevent it from getting stuck in the chain.

In the end, my decision to get on the train at 63rd proved correct. The train was empty when I got on, but packed by the time I arrived to my transfer point if I took the 6 train. It was a pleasant bike ride and an easy commute.

Lane of the Dead

A friend of mine compared the swim start of a triathlon to swimming with a bunch of Zombies. In a way he is correct. You have hundreds of people all flailing their arms, kicking a grabbing from every direction, in sort of a mindless fashion.

I thought of his comments as I did my swim this morning. I felt as though my 50 meter lane was invaded by a swarm of Zombies that could barely function, much less swim. I love the 50 meter lane; however the pool is setup with only 3 of them for swimming at the time of day I go to the pool. This means that the slow swimmers invade the medium and fast lanes.

It wouldn’t be so bad, if only they would yield the lane when they reached the wall, or at least move over when you tap their toes. These slow swimmers are in a zombie like state and don’t realize that etiquette dictates that they should be accommodating to faster swimmers. I was kicked, grabbed and given withering looks. It was perfect preparation for IMLP.

Short Bus Slow

I missed my workout today. This was necessitated by the fact that my ride to the pool bailed out on me and I was forced to drive myself to the pool and return home in time for my wife to use the car to take the kids to day camp. I wasn’t left with enough time to run in the morning, although I hoped to get a run in the early afternoon.

This was not to be, as I got out of work later than I hoped and I had to pick the kids up from camp. I could have run at 5pm, but that would have given me less than 12 hours to recover for a difficult workout tomorrow. I hate when I miss workouts. I feel like such a failure. I really shouldn’t, especially since my coach gave me a pass to skip it.

My swim this morning was good. I felt very strong in the water. The only downside to my swim was that the pool was a bit crowded and the medium speed lanes were invaded by slow swimmers. At first I used the slow lane, since no one else was using it. I guess the slow swimmers felt it a stigma to be swimming in a lane marked slow. For all I care, the lane could have been marked “Retards Only”; as long as it was clear, I would want the least crowded lane. Perhaps the people in the Medium lane really are “Slow”, as in short bus slow.

All was fine, until midway into my workout; an older woman entered my lane and made of point of stopping me to ask if I would move over to the next lane. I explained that it was crowded with snorkel bearing, fin flapping detritus than swam with the speed of sludge in clogged pipes. However, I was kind and obliged her.

I did figure though that one good turn deserves another, so when a particularly slow snorkler approached the wall after I passed her, I asked if she wouldn’t mind swimming in the slow lane. From her reaction, you would have thought I asked her if I could check her pulse because she was moving so slow. Truth be told, she was moving slower than a floater down the East River. After a few more words were exchanged, the older woman who started this whole menagerie (by asking me to move), came upon us. I told her “you see what I have to deal with?” She shook her head in u

Weird Dreams

I had a weird dream last night. It was political in nature and featured my cousin K and President Jimmy Carter. Somehow she got a giant wood box, in the shape of a coffin that had things in it from the Jimmy Carter presidency.

In it was a giant cooked turkey with all the trimmings. It was obviously cooked a long time ago and sealed in the coffin. In the place where the turkey head should be was a picture of Carter's face. I started to make a joke that it was the food from what should have been for a celebration party for the successful mission of releasing the American hostages in Iran back in 1979-1980. They placed everything in the "coffin" after the mission failed and put it in storage. How she acquired it was beyond me.

I wanted to take a picture of it as a supplement to something I was going to write about it on my blog. However, K wouldn't let me take the picture, as she was afraid it was too inappropriate. I got furiously angry as I tried to snap some pictures and she kept swatting my hands so I couldn’t get the shot. We basically stopped talking after that, but later on I started to wonder if perhaps she were right. I was wondering if blogging about political stuff would cause nasty repercussions.

I don’t really know what the significance of the dream is, but I do know where some of the components for it came from. I was IM’ing a colleague over the Internet and the discussion went from current events to some history of the United States. The Iranian Hostage situation was one of the topics. I was probably thinking about my cousin earlier that day and the two and two went together.

I guess the dream just signifies my fear of blogging about some issues I would like to discuss. Unfortunately, it didn’t resolve the question for me.

4th of July Weekend 2005

I am at my brother’s house for his annual 4th of July family get together. It is three weeks before Lake Placid Ironman. Last year while I was here, I tripped on the steps walking down from the second floor of his house. The last step is black granite and blends in with the granite floor. I didn’t see the step, turned my ankle and went sprawling along the floor. I spent the next 3 weeks before Lake Placid icing it and going for acupuncture. I vowed to myself, not to make the same mistake this year.

To top off my training for Lake Placid before my slow taper begins, I put in several strong workouts starting on Friday. On Friday, I headed to one of my laps and finished with 5100 meters in 1:36:00. At one point during the swim, the lane line started getting slack and the lane started to get very narrow. For a few moments I thought I was going crazy and no longer able to swim straight.

We were the fastest in the lane and needed to pass slower swimmers on many occasions. During one of these moments, Todd was coming towards me while I was attempting a pass of a laggard doing the backstroke. We had a mid-lane collision which caused all of us to stop. The slower swimming had this look of “Did I cause this pile up?”

Later, we went to Central Park and ran 6 miles. I did mile sprints with a slow recovery, while ST did a steady 6M.

On Saturday I rode a fast paced 61 miles in Prospect Park. My goal was to maintain 21-24 MPH for 40-50 miles. I was successful in this goal. Several times during the ride a pace line formed on me. I liked when this happened, because it offered encouragement to ride faster. At one point during the ride, I had a bug splatter on the lens of my glasses.

Sunday was a 21 mile run, which each loop of Prospect Park being negative splits. It wasn’t easy, but I managed that goal. I was glad it was over. My elapsed time was 2:45. This included all bathroom and water breaks.

Monday was a more interesting workout day. I went to the boardwalk in Coney Island to run 4 miles, before my swim group – www.cibbows.org, met on the beach. It was a gloriously sunny day, with a warm soft breeze. I discovered that the boardwalk has mile markers along the straight planks closer to the street. I started at approximately the .5 mile mark and ran to Sea Gate. The return to the start should have yielded 4 miles, but I was curious to see how far off I was from the .5 mile mark. The entire boardwalk is 2.5 miles long. I ran past my starting point looking for the mark, but wound up at the beginning of the boardwalk without ever finding it. The pleasant run, more than compensated for the fruitless search and I got to run 5 miles total.

After waiting around after my run, my swim friends started to show up. Fortunately, one of them had an extra swim cap and goggles, since I forgot mine, along with my money, wallet, towel, change of clothes, etc. If I drowned, I would have been completely unidentifiable.

The swim going towards the pier was easy and quick. However, the return presented a fair amount of chop and wind. Truth by told, it was a pain in the ass. I am also not acclimated to cold water and my fingers were completely numb and tingling by the time I got out of the water, despite wearing a wetsuit.

When I returned home, I played with my children in my backyard, where we just installed a partially inflatable pool. It has a 15 foot diameter and is 3 feet deep. The kids loved it. We ran around the perimeter all day long to make a nice whirlpool/tornado effect.

Overall it was a great weekend.

Thoughts of Death

Lately my son has been obsessed with thoughts of me dying. I think these thoughts were a slow buildup from the time that his pet lizard died. He keeps asking me why we have to die, when am I going to die and am I going to die. I just keep trying to reassure him that I am not about to die.

This morning, the conversation around the breakfast table was once again, when I would die. I said that it wouldn’t be for a very long time, possibly not until I was at least 100 years old. My daughter quickly calculated this to be in only 60 more years. For my son, this was not nearly long enough into the future for him. I tend to agree. I told him that I simply refuse to die. I am also hoping this will not be the case during the run am the upcoming Ironman Lake Placid.

Speaking of death, it strikes me that there are forms of death other than physical. It wasn’t that long ago, that I was suffering a form of brain death while I was preparing for Ironman Arizona. I recently came across an email I wrote to my cousin regarding my feelings at my previous job. I was a bit surprised when I read it. Here it is:

---------------

From: Beast
Sent: 3/9/2005 3:28 PM
To: K

I think I will have a good race. Perhaps not a Kona qualifying race, but nevertheless a good one. This is not pessimistic, just realistic. But you never know. I will continue Searching... for the Kona spot.

Yes it is miserable here. Worse than working in a coal mine in the early part of the century before they invented dust masks. Instead of coal particles giving me black lung, I am absorbing negative energy that is turning my soul black. Soon it will be coated with such a morass of foulness that surely it will sink down to hell due to the weight.

The worst thing about this stressful and foul work environment, is that it saps my strength to think clearly. I know I need to improve the situation, but I am left with not enough energy to make any moves, much less think of any moves to a better situation.

I guess that's why people go postal - like those chimpanzees.


I am so glad I am out of that company. I feel as though I am reborn – so far from death. I am in the best shape of my life and getting ready to qualify for Kona. I am confident and feel so alive. Hopefully my son will catch some of the energy coming from me, and forget about thoughts of death.

A Man to Man Question

The other day a friend of mine asked me over AOL Instant Messenger if he could ask me a personal question, man to man. I of course said yes and was quite curious to know what he wanted to ask. His question pertained to a dilemma that millions of married men throughout the world must have; namely, what do you do when your wife won’t give you sex anymore.

I was able to answer this question without missing a beat. Having been with the same woman (my wife) for over 20 years inevitably brings you to such eventuality. I responded to him that he has three choices; 1 – Cheat, 2 – Jerk off or 3 – Do long course triathlon like me.

Personally, I feel that choice 3 is the best, and in reality, the only option. The first choice is just plain wrong is fraught with a high likelihood of becoming very messy. Choice 2 is simply messy. Yes, choice 3 is the best option. Here are the advantages:

1 – You are too tired for sex so you don’t really care if you get any.
2 – The lack of sex causes you to focus and train harder, thereby giving you some great performances out in the field.
3 – The backup causes, shall we say your package to appear large in those tight triathlon shorts.

I am not sure if my response helped my friend with his man problem. I invite others to respond should they contain knowledge of a better solution.