#phlytri

The inevitable slide into madness, its gaping maw hot with sickly breath.  Perspiration gliding down my forehead to rest at the outer edge of my cornea; a stinging mote pulsing in time with my heartbeat.  Each pump a black spot, each breath a shudder.  The craggy red-limned outline of Mount Doom squats on the horizon.  It beckons me forward, coaxing me to take one more step forward.  To dangle at the precipice.  Caution thrown to the wind, and blared back at me in resonant heat waves that shimmer the summer air and distort my vision.  The Eye of Sauron is upon me, and its weighty gaze threatens to pierce me and render my remains to ashes.

So it was hot this week is what I am saying.

I am way behind in my posts, and for that I apologize.  Somehow I thought that training for a triathlon and moving to a new house, while delving into a new project at work would leave me time for writing on the blog.  I was wrong.  Incorrect even.  Unfortunately this week provides little in the way of relief.  We have to actually do the moving of physical objects from one location to another, while also transferring a rather large amount of money from one entity to another.  One requires extensive preparation with weeks of packing and organizing.  The other simply requires the intestinal fortitude to look at sums larger than your current net worth and say, "Yeah, I'm good for that."  The most shocking portion is that anyone believes you.

Adulthood is not something that just happens one day in your mid-20s.  I mean maybe that's what happened to you, but I'm speaking anecdotally here; maybe I'm the anomaly, but I doubt it.  Anyway, you don't just wake up one morning and realize you're an adult and convey yourself in a manner befitting a mature human being.  Nope.  It's a gradual process with its share of pitfalls and pratfalls and a learning curve just steep enough to be occasionally uncomfortable.  When I bought my first house, I didn't think about this too much, at least not enough to actually feel the gravitas of the situation.  Some very nice institutional lender had decided that I was a sufficiently low risk based on a paltry amount of information, and as a result lent me a significant amount of money.  Of course this was early 2007, and I'm pretty sure my cat could have been approved for a 0% down 5 year ARM at less that 4% APR for a $450,000 house.  It was a weird time in general.  Mortgages were being approved about as fast as the underwriters could pump out the appropriate forms, and sometimes not even then.  It's like I could hear the director in the background yelling "That's fine we'll fix it in post", post being the point at which the bank forecloses on the house Mr. Jangles bought with a meow and a knowing grin.

My experience this time around was more like a trip to the TSA, except with slightly more courtesy.  Financial records were combed over methodically, paystubs copied and forwarded, bank statements signed by bank managers.  This is how the operation should be run.  It's ridiculous to expect a lender to fork over hundreds of thousands of dollars on the basis of a credit report and a handshake - not even that really, a virtual handshake.  The housing crash that followed the building tsunami in 2007 is still being felt, and judging by the number of foreclosures on Trulia, I was not the only buyer who received less than ample scrutiny.

But that's not really what I was talking about.  My point was that adulthood creeps up on you, and you find yourself contemplating what order to pack your house rather than what to pack for an overnight at a friends house.  A busy Saturday consists of packing and haircuts and a trip to Toys'R'Us.  All of which is over before young people have started their night.  In bed by 9pm and ready to start the whole circus over again at 5am, when the youngest will wake up and demand to be fed.  One of the things that you lose with your youth is the amount of free and unplanned time.  No obligations and little responsibility.  That would be awfully convenient, especially if you were trying to train for a triathlon.  Alas, children and pets need to be fed.  Lawns need mowing.  And work needs to be completed.  Time is a precious resource, and everyday you have less of it.

Boy howdy, did I do a number on my left foot!  After the Broad Street Run I took a few days off from running to let my foot heal.  Then I tried to run on it two days in a row at the end of the week.  Saturday morning I was hobbling around like a cripple.  it's a good thing we didn't have anything to do that weekend... oh wait we totally did.

For this week (which is basically over), I took the entire week off from running and only cycled and swam.  Like I said before, these are the two things I need to focus on most.  The injured foot gave me a good excuse for something I needed to do anyway.  Tomorrow we have a team brick workout with 90min on the bike and 20min running.  My foot feels 100% better, and I am not worried about the run at all.  Actually, I am more concerned by a 90min bike, since I don't normally go for more than an hour.

Speaking of being out on the bike, there's one thing you have to deal with when cycling that just doesn't come up in running, and that's flat tires.  Of the multitude of ways you can get a flat tire, I think mine was about as good as one could hope for.  I must have sprung a slow leak on Monday while I was out, and when I wheeled my bike out of the basement (don't ask) on Tuesday, it had a flat tire.  In fact, I didn't notice till I went to put it on the bike rack.  I brought the bike back inside and went into the satchel under the saddle to retrieve my patch kit and spare tube.  That's when I discovered that I didn't have a spare tube.  Now bear in mind this is my first flat tire with this bike.  I've been riding around for months thinking I had things covered with my little pump and patch kit.  And now I discover that I hadn't possessed a spare tube at all.  Well, if I'm going to discover that I have a flat tire and no tube to replace it, that's really the best circumstance I could hope for.  Of course at the time that's not what I was thinking.  I was thinking...well let's keep this PG shall we?

I was also supposed to swim that morning, and in the confusion I managed to forget that I hadn't packed my swim trunks in my gym bag.  Everything else was in there - towel, goggles, etc.- but nothing to swim in.  When I arrived at LA fitness I realized my error and...well I'm still trying to keep this PG okay?

I also hit my head on the trunk of my car and I think I spilled coffee on myself.  It was a FAIL day all around.

Despite some setbacks and a less than stellar start to the week, I still managed to finish strong and get all my workouts in.  The Philly Tri is coming up soon, sooner that I had realized.  It's becoming a bit more real, and if freaking me out a bit more.  I hope I can do it.  After all the support from everyone, I don't want to let them and you down.  It just means I have to work extra hard in the next few weeks before the pre-race taper.  

The Broad Street Run was a mix of awesome and annoying.  As for the actual race, it was a lot of fun.  Running through Philly was great, and there was an amazing number of people out to support the runners.  Temple University had their marching band out and playing for us.  Every block there was a group of people with signs, or free high fives, or drums, or something to cheer you on and put a smile on your face.  The course itself was super fast, and almost entirely downhill.  I ended up running a 1:15:44 which is a 7:32 mile!  That beats my previous best ten mile by about 4 minutes.  Unfortunately with all that speed my form was not all that great, and I ended up bruising the outside of my left foot.  It hurts to walk on today, and I may have to take the rest of the week off from running.  So I'll just focus on swimming and cycling instead, which is what I need to do in general anyway.

There were a number of things that I found irritating about the race, and they will probably prevent me from doing it again.  First off, the race was simply too big.  I generally prefer to run alone or in a small group.  Some people are into running for the social aspect of it, and I understand that.  Some people also really like being in big groups, which I also understand.  I don't like either of those things.  When it comes to events, I would much rather go to a small intimate affair than a packed stadium.  The BSR was very much a stadium affair, which coincidentally ended near three stadiums.

Secondly, everything that was not the race was frustrating.  Endless lines everywhere would be a good way to describe the rest of the morning.  I waited in line to get on the subway, then to get off the subway, then to go to the port-o-potties, then to get out of the port-o-potty area, then to get into the corral, then to drop off my gear, then to go to the starting line.  And that's all before the race even began!  After the race it was time to wait in line to get water, then to get food, then to get my gear back, then to get on the subway, etc.  It was a lot of time and effort.  I left my house at 6:45AM and returned at noon.  That's five and a quarter hours, during which I ran for one and quarter.  The other four hours?  Waiting in line.  And I took the train and subway to the starting line.  If I had driven to the stadium first, then add another hour of traveling.  For a ten miler, it's just not worth the hassle.

Third, this was such a commercialized affair that it started to really grate on me.  You have to pick up your packet at the expo, which is inconveniently located down in the city.  In order to actually get your packet, the expo designers decided to make you walk to the very end of the hall.  But that was just to get your bib.  Then you had to walk to the other end of the expo hall to get your gear bag.  This was no accident.  They made sure you walked past every exhibitor twice!  I tried walking back down the hall after getting my gear, and an expo official made me walk down an additional isle of exhibitors.  It was under the guise of traffic flow, but I could tell it was a petty attempt to make me walk past the maximum amount of vendors.  At the actual race the opening announcements mentioned every sponsor multiple times.  Each mile had some type of branding.  At every step of the way I felt the marketing message being forced down my throat.  Now, don't get me wrong, I understand that sponsors serve a purpose and that the race is a commercial event.  But it was so obvious that it felt oppressive.  Maybe this is the way all the big events are these days, and I don't notice because I avoid big events as a rule.  When the advertising is so pervasive and so constant, I feel like I am being yelled at; and my response to being yelled at is to ignore what the yeller is saying.

Fourth and finally, and I'm really starting to nitpick here, people refused to follow corral assignments.  The BSR sets up colored corrals based on how fast you think you will finish.  That way you are paired up with people that run at a similar pace.  In theory, you won't have to jostle for position too much, and you can set your pace to the other runners around you.  People completely ignored the corral assignments.  While I waited to start, I looked around me, and 1 out of every 3 people had the wrong color for the corral.  The end result is that I literally spent the entire race passing people who started in the wrong corral.  It was annoying and at times hindered my progress as I had to try and make a hole through packs of slower runners.  40,000 people is a lot of dang people, and the BSR was trying to make it easier for everyone.  Way to screw it up jerks.

As a coda, I do want to say that I understand what a massive undertaking the BSR is for its organizers.  Getting 40,000 people, their family, friends, and supporters moving from one end of the race to the other is a monumental task.  The fact that it works at all, let alone smoothly is a tribute to the efforts of all groups involved.  I want to thank the race officials, volunteers, the Philadelphia Police, the FBI, and anyone else who contributed to a safe and enjoyable atmosphere.

Halfway there!  My donation total crossed over the halfway mark this past week.  It's amazing to be surrounded by so many generous friends and family.  The actual total is $1,105, but I haven't had a chance to mail in one of the checks.  Rest assured that as the race looms closer, I'll be reaching out to each of you for what phrase or name you want me to yell during your portion of the race.  Some have already chosen, and it's a mix of sentimental, inspirational, and downright silly.  

This week I realized that the pool at LA Fitness is most likely 25 yards not meters.  It was during the team swim practice at St. Joe's U. that I figured this out.  I've been counting my strokes per lap, partly as a way to distract myself, but also as a way to monitor my progress.  I was averaging about 22 strokes per lap at LA Fitness, but closer to 24 at SJU.  Let's break it down shall we?  22 strokes per 25 yards is 1.14 yards per stroke.  Converted to metric that is 1.04 meters.  24 strokes times 1.04 meters per stroke is 24.96 meters, or basically 25 meters.  If you ever wondered when you would use math in everyday life, well there you have it.

That also means that the distances I thought I was swimming at LA Fitness were all wrong.  I was assuming 25 meters per lap, so 1500 meters (the race length for an Olympic tri) should work out to 60 laps.  I was swimming 64 laps on my long swim days to round it out at an even 1600 meters, aka one mile.  That was actually 1600 yards, which is 1463 meters.  Now I know that I must swim 65.6 laps to hit 1500 meters.  It would have been nice if LA Fitness had put up a sign saying "Pool length 25 yards", or just made the pool 25 meters like a normal person.  Is that what hotels mean when they say they have an Olympic pool?

The moral of the story is that I am glad I was counting my strokes, and had the chance to swim in a true 25 meter pool.  You wouldn't think the difference of a few strokes is a big deal, but after 60 laps you definitely start to feel it.

I'm a big fan of technology and gadgets.  That's pretty obvious from my use of endomondo, and I talked about it at length during my post about RPGs.  When I started swimming, I was just using the clock on the wall and counting my strokes.  It would be really nice to have something similar to my setup for running and cycling.  GPS, heart rate, and pace.  So I looked into what is out there, and there are swim watches that have the features I am talking about, and a price tag that gives me pause.  The cheapest one I could find that had the heart rate function was $230.  That's too much for a sport that I am not sure I will pursue beyond this triathlon.  Fortunately there is a much more low tech option, the good old stopwatch.  I found one on amazon for a whopping $7.  Now that I know that actual distance of the pool and am armed with a stopwatch, I can start logging my workouts with a bit more accuracy.  The heart rate thing will just have to wait.

This Sunday is the Broad Street Run in Philadelphia.  I will be participating through my job.  That's really the only way I could get a slot, so I am lucky that they had a team.  I tried to run the Broad Street race two years ago, but I hadn't really thought through the logistics when I signed up.  My son was due at the end of March that year, and the run was less than 8 weeks later.  If you have a child, then you know the first 8 weeks are a lesson in exhaustion.  The last thing I wanted to do after 8 weeks of sleep deprivation was run 10 miles.  In fact, I hadn't run at all since he was born!  I chose not to run, and that was probably a good call.

In all likelihood this will be my first and last Broad Street Run.  The cost is too high, the field too packed, and once I move it will be too far to travel.  Instead, I expect I will be participating in the Bucks County Ten Miler.  It's a smaller event with a lot less hype and a lot less cost.  And it's on the same day as the Broad Street Run.  I am going to run the Bucks County Marathon this year, and it's the same group of people setting up both events.  They're even considering setting up an ultra next year.  I don't really have the time to train for that right now, but maybe one of these days?  Probably not.

Happy Earth Day!  If that's your thing.  Which it probably should be since you ostensibly live on Earth and all.

It's a sad week for runners the world around, and I am not sure how to address the Boston Bombing.  First and foremost, it's a tragedy for those who were injured or killed by the bombing and my heart and thoughts go out to them, their family and friends.  There are many ways to look at the attack, some positive and some negative.  My initial reaction was one of disgust.  How can such depraved people exist?  Then anger.  How dare they attack my fellow runners and countrymen?  Then sadness.  But as the reports kept coming in I saw a different side.  In the videos you can clearly see people running towards the explosions to help rescue the injured.  There are reports of runners who kept running, after finishing a marathon, to donate blood at the nearest hospital.  Doctors, nurses, and hospital staff worked tirelessly to save as many people as possible.  These are heroic acts by everyday people, and it underscores the fundamentally good nature of people.  

Religions and pessimists alike will tell you that humanity is intrinsically flawed.  We are greedy, selfish, animals; one crisis away from degenerating into a mindless, murderous mob.  Without laws, we would be lawless. And crime and depravity would run rampant.  But that's not what I see.  I see people defying logic and their own self preservation to help complete strangers.  That kind of person is the rule, not the exception.  Patton Oswalt wrote a great essay about it, which you've probably already seen on Facebook or the Twitter.  If not, here it is, please read the whole thing.

I am proud of humanity for making it this far, and I have faith that we will continue to go on long after I have left.

The bad guys in all this were monsters, no doubt.  Aberrations, anomalies, etc.  And that is another good thing.  I would not want to inhabit a world where they, Tamberlan and Dzhokhar, were the norm.  Where their actions were not shocking, but commonplace.  If that were the case, humanity would eat itself alive.  

In a few weeks I am running in the Broad Street Run.  My wife was concerned about my participation, and I don't blame her.  Initially we didn't know anything about the bombers motivations.  If it had been related to some weirdly specific grudge against running, we could have seen a rash of these bombings at more running events to come.  While the motivation of the terrorists is still not fully understood, it certainly looks to be a toxic combination of radical Islamic beliefs and disaffection with the US.  There was no obvious animus against runners; it was simply a big public event that would garner a large amount of attention.  There are lots of public events, and any of them could be a target.  I won't live my life avoiding all public events for fear of being attacked.  Evil doers will do evil things, but I believe in the good outnumbering them.

As I mentioned in the previous week, it was time to step things up in the fundraising department, and step I did.  In just one week my total went from a paltry $200 to almost $800.  That's amazing, which means that I have some pretty awesome friends and family.  If you donated, you have my thanks and gratitude.  It sounds cheesy, but I actually started getting a little choked up as the donations started coming in.  It's a humbling experience to realize what fantastic people you've managed to surround yourself with.  I am truly lucky to know all of you.

If you haven't donated yet, why not?! (Peer pressure, peer pressure, peer pressure)

Just kidding.  I still think you're pretty nifty.

This weekend I participated in the Rumspringa half-marathon out in Lancaster County.  It starts and ends at the Stoudt's brewery, and like all uberendurancesports events, there was a bratwurst and a beer waiting for me at the end.  That is a fantastic way to end a good run, as long as you have a little water too.  Even better though, was that my wife and two kids came out to cheer me on at the finish line.  This is the first time I've ever asked her (or anyone) to come to one of my races, and I think it made a big difference for me in those last few miles.  I just imagined my wife smiling, and my son clapping, and my daughter... well, sleeping (she's five months old), and it painted a big grin on my face and helped me pick up the pace.  My previous personal best for the half-marathon was 1:48:37.  I don't have the official results yet, but I crossed the line around 1:45:xx.  That's at least three minutes faster!  That's awesome, and I think I have my family cheering me on to thank.

Spending one and three quarter hours out running gives you a lot of time to think, but honestly I became focused on one thing for most of the run.  Other runners I talked to before the race mentioned that there was a huge hill around mile 9.  The biggest and toughest hill of the whole race!  That became my obsession   Every hill we went up, I kept thinking that I better save something for mile 9.  When we were going down a hill, I thought that I better slow down and take it easy because I still have mile 9 ahead of me.  Mile 9 became a mantra that I repeated over and over in my head.  About halfway through mile 7.5 we started climbing up a pretty steep ascent, and I thought that it was tough, but mile 9 was gonna be the killer.  As we crested the hill, I looked out onto the horizon searching for the mile 9 hill.  Soon I saw the sign for mile 9 and braced myself for a steep climb.  Bring it on, I saved up plenty of energy for this!

Mile 9 was all downhill.

Without even knowing it, I had already conquered the monster hill a mile and a half ago.  Looking back at the course elevation chart, I can see how the climb wasn't even that tough.  It was about 250 feet over the course of a mile.  I have practice runs around my house with steeper and longer ascents than that!  I think if I had known, I probably would have pushed even harder, but I kept thinking I needed to leave something in the tank.

So much of running is psychological.  You can psyche yourself up or psyche yourself out.  My family got me psyched up for the final stretch, but mile 9 psyched me out for the earlier part of the race.  When it's just you and the road it's easy to get obsessed over one little thing.  As important as it is to train your body, it is also important to train your mind.  And maybe that is the muscle I need to work on most.  

It was a really good week of training.  Even though the weather remains somewhat fickle, I still got in all my workouts and finished the week strong with a 10 mile run.  There's really not much to say about the week.  That's just kind of the way it is when things go well.  There's just not too much to say.  The old newspaper adage "if it bleeds, it ledes" is probably apropo.

It's hard to focus on the workouts of the week when bigger things are happening.  This weekend we sold our house and hosted our son's 2nd birthday party!  That's two pretty big milestones that sort of eclipsed everything else that was going on.

I also stopped slacking in the fundraising department and finally started trying a few things.  I wrote a personal letter to family and friends asking them for support.  I've also started thinking about what else I could do to try and meet my fundraising goal.  Here's a few quick things.

1. Get the word out through FB and Twitter - I've already done this, but I haven't asked people to share my posts with their friends.  The audience expands quickly if each of my friends re-shares my posts.

2. Cookies against Cancer - I thought I could bake some cookies and bring them into work with a donation box.  I'd like to try and do that every week starting next week.  With any luck I can drum up a few extra funds and maybe spark a conversation!  

3. Local fundraising event - I was considering asking a local bar if they would mind hosting a happy hour for LLS, or something along those lines.  That could probably raise a few dollars.  If you own a bar and are interested, let me know!

It's really about raising awareness and making sure my message reaches a large group of people.  That's what I need to focus on, and what I have been thinking about during my runs.  If you enjoy my more esoteric posts, then you might be slightly disappointed this week.  I promise that next week I'll get back to my usual M.O., but I really did have fundraising on the brain for the last week.

We had a nice warm spell for a few days, and then Greenland (or something) came along and crushed it.  I'm getting a little tired of numb toes and fingers when out on the bike.  There's probably some sweet cold weather gear that would help, but it's too late in the season to reasonably spend money on that kind of thing.  I'll just deal with it until April finally gets its act together.

In another life, I was the store manager of the fine retail chain Hot Topic.  It was a bizarre job filled with odd people, myself included.  I had a part-time sales associate with a piercing that went through his tongue and the bottom of his mouth and out the underside of his chin.  He also liked to do suspensions in his spare time.  If you don't know what that is, you're probably better off.  We wore ridiculous clothing and did ridiculous things, and because of the semi-high school atmosphere of a mall, we were the cool kids on the block.  A few of us even had what I would term Hot Topic groupies.  They were people who would come in almost daily to see if their favorite employee was working, and them bother them ceaselessly for as long as I would allow.  I can't say any of us minded basking in the glow of their teen adoration.  It was occasionally creepy, almost stalker-ish.  But that's another story, for another time.

The story I have in mind was about young lad, who started as a groupie and then graduated to employee.  He was short (5'4"?) with long, dark hair.  His passion was martial arts, and he would extol the virtues of it to anyone who would lend an ear.  Kung Fu, Karate, Tai Chi, and some other more obscure fare were all included.  He would go on and on about the discipline and the clarity of mind that martial artists had.  He told me that he was trying to master certain Tai Chi poses for extended periods of time, and with reverence related the tale of a sensei that held the Horse Stance for twelve straight hours.  I called BS.  The reason I'll get to in a moment.

Earlier that same year, I decided I was going to try a purifying ritual.  I was going to shut myself up in my room and meditate for three days.  My plan was to fast, drinking only juice and water.  I would leave my room only when it was necessary to use the facilities.  It was supposed to be a time of serenity and reflection.  No TV, no music, no distractions.  I would sit and ponder the great mysteries of life.  

I lasted approximately 45 minutes.

I was bored.  Just utterly bored.  Sitting there in my room, with my eyes closed, letting my mind traverse the mysteries of the universe was incredibly dull.  

In retrospect there's two things I've come to understand about my epic failure.  The first is that I did no training leading up to it.  You don't try to run a marathon before you run a mile.  You don't try to take the bar before law school.  And you don't try to meditate AND fast for THREE DAYS without practice.  It was incredibly ambitious and probably a bit dismissive/smug of me to think I could do so.  The other thing I've realized is that I am not a person who sits still.  I need to be out there, doing things, making progress, accomplishing something... Sitting in a room for three days doesn't feel like an accomplishment, it feels like a cop out.  That's not actually true, but it is how I feel about it at a fundamental level.  As an intellectual exercise, I can appreciate the mental and physical discipline it takes to meditate or just sit still for a long period of time.  But I can't do it myself.  It's the same reason I hate the elliptical and the treadmill and the stationary bike.  I don't want to be stationary.

So I called BS on my friend's story.  Not because I didn't think it was physically possible, I just couldn't imagine standing still in one position for twelve hours.  It was inconceivable.  But in a way it's another endurance sport, this time one of the mind.  I seek clarity and understanding on the road, and he sought it standing still.  There are many paths, and one of them is the non-path.