profile pic

#revengeofthehip

I've had some time since my injury last month to collect my thoughts and am slowly piecing together how I got from the best shape of my life to where I am now. This post is for me to look back on one day and remember rather than creating disdain for the sport of triathlon or any sympathy on my behalf from people I know.

My last blog post was a race recap from Ironman Vineman back in the fall of 2016. When I hit the publish button on that post I remember thinking that was it, the grand finale. Another milestone achieved and time to move onto something else. Hung my try bike on the wall and never unpacked my gear bags. Since I can't sit still for too long, three months later I started a training block for Texas 70.3. Feeling good and ready to burn off the 15 lbs I put on in "retirement."

Training up to that race was normal...never felt fatigued, sore, injured, etc. and I showed up to Galveston, in a monsoon, ready to just go out and have fun. No time targets. No worries. We stayed with friends at their beach house and I was totally relaxed for this race. I swam pretty well, biked ok and started the run with some life left in my legs--the first loop was under my training pace and the wheels fell off on the second loop. I honestly cannot remember my finish time, but its something in the 5:40 range. I was sore, tired and just glad to be done.

Over the course of the next several months I just sort of floated around and took things easy. I was cycling and swimming more than usual and running about the same as my normal routine. This went on until Harvey blew through and I shut things down totally for about a month to lend as much of my time to friends and family as possible. In early October I received an email advertising the Rock Raccoon 50 miler, so naturally I signed up. Never ran this far and had no idea what I was getting myself into. Perfect.

I've been a runner since college and was happy going back to my roots--I actually enjoyed the miles that I was logging to prepare for the 50 miler. For context, the first week started with 6 on Tues, 8 on Wed, 4 on Thurs 16 on Sat and 10 on Sun. Brutal. On a particular weekend in mid-Dec I had 20 scheduled on Sat with a recovery 10 on Sun. I finished up on Sat and felt extremely tired afterwards, so I went home and took it easy the rest of the day. Got up the next morning and did 5 with Jack in the stroller (our Sunday routine), dropped him off with Emily and then took off for the rest of the miles. About two miles later, I felt a pop in the hip joint and I cramped from mid-abdomen to my knee cap. Walked home and immediately stretched it out and soaked in the tub. I tried to run a couple of days later and couldn't go more than a quarter mile without doubling over in pain. And here we are.

I did an MRI in early January and saw two doctors post-imaging...the initial MRI showed femoroacetibular impingement (FAI), a pincer on the head of the femur, 4-5 distinct labrum defects (tears), 3 distinct cartilage defects (tears) and early stage osteoarthritis. I went to see the orthopedist and expected him to tell me I had a labrum tear--I had no idea that he would spend 20 minutes reading off all of the things going wrong in my hip. There are two paths to take in this scenario: you can do Suppartz or PRP injections and follow-up with PT or you can do PT to prepare for surgery. The former would apply to new and/or small defects in the hip, the latter for revision surgeries and/or large quantities of defects. I fall into the latter with all of the other lucky folks out there. So I setup PT and had my first visit yesterday.

Slowly feeling better about my predicament and feeling like we had a plan, I went to PT to get the show on the road. Met my new best friend Kim, sat down with her to talk about the injury and was quickly interrupted. We went back through the MRI one more time and you also have a "pretty gnarly sports hernia." Thanks Kim, now let's go bed these legs into a pretzel and talk about how much it hurts.

I had a miserable nights sleep last night. I am sore and achy, and I get sharp pains with certain movements. Imagine a painful itch that you can't scratch that has been lingering on for a month. I spend my day managing pain in between meetings--Tylenol throughout the day and hydrocodone at night. I can't sit too long, so I stand up. Then I can't stand too long so I sit down (thank God for my electronic riser desk). And sleeping is the worst. Can't tie my shoes. Can't pick up my kid. I swim and it feels better, that is, until I'm not swimming and it hurts like hell. Same with cycling. And I can't run.

So what now? I have to do 3 weeks of PT to track pain levels and flexibility and report results back to  Dr. Harris. There's a 10% chance that pain will fall to a level of comfort but it won't fix the problems. From what I understand, the PT is primarily to ready my body for surgery and is also posturing for insurance to approve a revision surgery. Dr. Harris will repair the hip and we'll interview a couple of urologists to repair the sports hernia at the same time. I'll start rehab the day after surgery and they'll put me on a recumbent bike immediately. I won't swim for 8 weeks and won't take a step out of crutches or a brace for 12 weeks.

I've succumbed to the fact that endurance sports are out of the question for me, likely for the rest of my trip on this earth. At this point, I just want the pain to go away and to be able to casually exercise. The tri bike that I built from scratch is sold and hopefully in the hands of someone who can use it. I've got another baby boy on the way in June. Life is still good, just different.

Ironman Vineman - What's My Mission (Part 2)

It’s been nine days since I swam my way up and down the Russian River, cycled my way through Sonoma and Napa counties and ran a marathon around the city of Windsor, CA. Like the wine we’ve been drinking since the day after the race, time has aged my memory and I believe I can now put how awesome this experience was onto paper.

The primary goal of this race for me had nothing to do with the passage of time or attaining personal gain. Quite the contrary—six weeks prior to race day I was called to reach out to my network and ask for prayer requests, one for each mile traveled on race day, and by the time I got up and put on my wetsuit, I had over 120 requests from family, friends, friends of family and friends of friends. I was able to fill the remainder with people who came to mind just by asking God to speak to me as I was out on the course. This took an exceptional amount of courage on my part and begged of me to put myself out there more than I would typically do so in any other arena. But I am glad I did—it was life changing for me….

Cancer, divorce, miscarriage, addiction, mental illness, unemployment, world peace, and so many other sorrowful things….People were able to open up to me, many of whom had never met me, and told me their deepest fears and worries, and asked that I pray for them. I took on these burdens, prayed the entire race, and had one consistent thought in my mind the whole time: my pain is so much less significant compared to anyone on that list. Isn’t this consistent with what God wants for us? To take on the burdens of those around us? Friends, I can tell you from firsthand experience, every soreness, every cramp, every time the little voice in my head challenged me to give up all I had to do was pray for someone on my list and it went away. Immediately. God used me as a vessel and showed me that I have so much more to give, even when I am stretched thin, my tank is never empty….for those who sent in requests and all of those people in my network, it is my sincere desire that you felt peace throughout my race and will continue to do so going forward. I can assure you that my prayers will not cease at the completion of this Ironman.

I would be lying if I said I didn’t also have a personal finishing time goal for the race. Just being honest. When I last took on Ironman (Texas in 2013), I really struggled to finish. I had a terrible swim, stopped multiple times on the bike and ended up walking the majority of the marathon. My mind was never right from the time the gun went off until the finish chute. It was painful, agonizing and not fun for me. I swore this time around to do everything differently…I wanted to have fun, to remember to smile and to encourage others out on the course. My training was also laser-focused and I completed 90% of the prescribed workouts, so I knew I had done everything I could to be ready for whatever was thrown my way on race day. That’s what a successful Ironman is all about: eliminating variables and maximizing control. On the flight to San Francisco, I went back over my pacing in Training Peaks and came up with a bracketed estimated finish time of somewhere between 11:30 and 13:30. I crossed in 12:16. Being honest in your training and with yourself works.

Planning for Vineman. Since we were staying for five days after the race, it took a lot of planning out where we were going to stay and which wineries we were going to visit afterwards. Luckily, Emily’s cousin Rob, who is a remarkable winemaker and all around great guy, helped us pin down the wine tastings, so all I had to do was book places to stay. I decided to pick a spot north of the finish line to stay both pre-race and the night of the race so that we could get out of the logjam and be on our way the next morning. We had a great little place on Pony Ranch Vineyards which was 30min from the start line and 15min from the finish line (yes, there are two transition areas…). I used Cycle Chauffer to transport my bike and gear bag, so I picked these up on Thursday prior to the race at the Ironman Village site. We also picked up my packet at check-in, grabbed a t-shirt and walked around for a bit. I got in a quick 40min ride on part of the bike course that evening and had dinner, then called it a night. Friday morning, we went to T2 to drop off my run gear bag and then headed down to the swim start/T1 to drop my bike and bike gear bag. Since Johnson’s Beach is a public beach on the Russian River, I was able to get a 20min swim in my wetsuit and make sure I could still fit in it since it’s been sitting in my closet for over a year. After the bike was checked in, we went to lunch back in Healdsburg and Emily did a wine tasting at Mazzocco Estates. I got in a short 20min run after that and felt great in the 0% humidity climate. Dinner that night, my traditional beer (Pliny the Elder) and off to bed by 9pm.

My first alarm went off at 3am per my plan and I took down an Ensure drink, my electrolytes, vitamins, a PB & banana bagel and 32oz of my endurance blend drink. I was able to fall back asleep for a little bit until the next alarm went off at 430am to get up for good. Slammed another Ensure and another endurance drink and re-checked my special needs bags, put on sunscreen and my kit and off we went down to Johnson’s Beach. Traffic was moderately heavy, but we were able to get right into town and then I had Emily get the car out of there so she wouldn’t be caught up in race traffic. Quick kiss goodbye and I told her I’d see her in a few hours…

Vineman. The T1 transition area was chaotic. I always wear headphones for multiple reasons, but primarily to block out all of the chatter and nervous energy that people project prior to a race. It also dictates which songs will be in my head on the swim…

Pros entered the water at 625am and amateurs begin filing in (per Ironman’s new swim initiative) in waves of 10 people. I didn’t get to the water until 705am and began swimming as fast as I could. It became abundantly apparent that the vast majority of athletes were overzealous with their projected swim times and seeded themselves poorly. I spent the entire swim going around people, touching feet and whizzing by people who decided to walk in the shallow water. Yep, some people walked the majority of the swim. I wanted my legs to be fresh and decided to use my arms instead. I quickly made it to the turn around, looked at my watch (said 32min) and really tried to push myself for the second half. Unfortunately, it was more of the same. Slow swimmers seeded incorrectly. By the time I passed back underneath the bridges, I had lost a bit of time from all of the zigging and zagging but was still enjoying myself. The swim exit was getting closer and closer with every sight stroke and I finally got out of the water in 1:09. Perfect. Striped off my wetsuit and headed in.

The transition area was a mud pit, as was the changing area….I grabbed my bag and headed to the back of the tent to change into my cycling gear. I had swam with only my tri-bottoms so that I would have a dry shirt for the chilly first 10 miles of the bike, and it was crazy hard to put on a skinsuit when you’re wet. Put on my HR monitor, grabbed my prayer list, my helmet and shoes, and ran out to my bike.

The bike ride begins with a 7% incline up from transition to the main road. They were asking people to run their bikes up the hill, so I opted to do that versus shifting down and burning my legs up the first hill. Once on the top of the hill, I mounted my bike and began the beautiful ride through Sonoma County. The first 12 miles are flat and fast with only 200’ or so of climbing. Once you get onto the Calistoga loop at mile 13/60, the fun really starts….My plan was to drink my endurance blend (Sustained Energy, X Endurance Hydrate and Skratch Labs) and take a salt lick every 15min during the bike, which I did the entire time. I also ate a Clif Shot every hour on the hour, alternating between 25mg caffeine and 100mg caffeine. And I prayed…By the time I zipped through Hwy 101 and started to head back south towards St. Helena, I was feeling great. This is when the bike course punches you in the stomach---mile 45-ish drops you onto Chalk Hill Road which houses two 9% climbs, the second of which stretches about .5 miles long. Luckily, there were so many spectators lining the ridge and running alongside the cyclists, so it felt a bit like a stage of the tour. Once you climb these hills, you drop down into a canyon and hit speeds over 40mph. A quick 15 miles and you are back on the highway to Calistoga to do your second loop. I opted to skip special needs as I had everything I needed in my jersey and bento box—mistake. As I passed through a water stop to grab water, I began mixing my bottle and went to put it back in the bottle cage. Two miles passed the water stop, I hit a bump and my new bottle got thrown onto the pavement. Since it would have been a penalty to leave it, I had to turn back and grab it only to find that it all leaked out after it hit the ground. Should have stopped and filled it at special needs. Gotta keep moving….Since that bottle contained the majority of the nutrition I had left (that was cold), I had to go back to the last bottle I put on my bike in the morning. It was warm and had been on my bike for 5 hours. Big mistake since my drink has protein in it. After three swigs of it, my stomach quickly reminded me how much it disagreed with the hot drink and I found myself having to stop at the next two water stops to visit the port-o-can. After I had thrown up of all of the drink, I got back on my bike, climbed chalk hill, grabbed a cold Gatorade and headed into Windsor. Bike time was 6 hours on the dot (includes 7-8 min of stopping). Perfect.

The great thing about T2 at Vineman was the fact that volunteers take your bike and rack it for you. All I had to do was focus on getting my run gear bag and preparing for the run. As I hopped off my bike, my legs felt surprisingly great and I was able to chug a bottle of endurance fuel, put on my shoes, grab my race number and hat, and take off.

I finally saw Emily as I was grabbing my run bag and heading out to the run course. What a blessing it was to see her smiling face and hear her yelling for me! I ran out of the finish line area and quickly made it up the first long climb which drops you out onto Eastside road, where Rodney Strong is located. The first loop went by fast, and I averaged 9min miles which was on plan. I was also enjoying seeing the pros passing me on the other side of the road, heading in on their last loops. Professional triathletes are freaks of nature….I continued my praying and before I knew it, I was headed downhill back into Windsor to the finish area where I would turn off for the second and third loops. I didn’t see Emily on the second turn loop, but kept trucking because I knew it was a fine line between my pace and cramping out. As I made my way up the long climb out of the finish area and onto the second loop, my quads and flexors started to twitch. There’s my old friends….I began introducing coke and oranges at each water stop, and dumping ice water in my kit. I also stuffed ice into my tri shorts on my quads. My plan was to take salt every 15min and a Clif Shot every hour on the hour, which I did. However, after I made the turn at the halfway point on the second loop, my legs were stiff and cramped up. This is where my pace went from 9min/mi to 10, then to 11 and 12. By the time I started heading down the hill and back into Windsor, I knew sub-12 race was out of the question and I decided to keep focusing on the prayer list and just have fun. I can’t tell you how many people asked about my list, about Catapult (my race team’s charity partner) and where I was from. I must have met over 100 people out on the run course—I was having an absolute blast. As I was coming in from loop 2, I saw Emily and was able to hand her my list because I had prayed so much for so many people and wanted the last loop to be ran in solitude—I wanted to rely on God to push me and feed me prayer requests, which overwhelming happened. Each mile was someone new and another person popped into my head. Before I could even think about how much it hurt, I was running down the hill back into Windsor and entering the finisher loop which would wind around for about a mile. I remember thinking about Emily, about Jack and about how awesome this adventure was. I was actually sad that it was over…as I turned into the chute, all I could see was the sun setting over the mountains. What a metaphor for the last 20 weeks of preparation—I did it, 12:16:55, I finished…

What I learned. It was such a pleasure to make this journey about serving others. I honestly don’t think I could have pushed myself as hard as I did without the external motivation of having other people relying on me to pray for them. Isn’t that the model that God wants us to live by? It’s amazing how much burden you can take on and still push through to accomplish great things. I actually felt more energy when I was thinking about everyone who made my list and the pain in my legs subsided when I thought about how minuscule it was compared to the plight of others. I certainly don’t want this to end here—it has to be something that is contagious and spreads onto every aspect of my life. What am I doing for others? How much more of myself is there left to give?

I want to thank all of those who participated in this journey—from sending in prayer requests, to joining me on my long rides, to sending over words of encouragement and for Emily and Jack for being patient with my schedule. While I might be done racing for a while, there remains a fire within me that needs to be used for good. Until next time.

KB

What is my mission?

Emily and I began attending a small group last month and I am easing into the idea of sitting around with strangers, talking about how to be better partners. This is difficult for me on so many levels...For one, I'm a quasi-introvert and settings like these make me uncomfortable/sweaty. I also find it hard to share my faults. And allow anyone to help me. And talk about my faith. So attending two of these meetings has been my equivalent of reaching the summit of Everest without losing any fingers. The most recent discussion surrounded the topic of mission(ing), i.e., giving more of yourself to others. Like I do with everything in life, I began to equate this to triathlon and so this blog post has taken flight. 

Being missional (not sure it's a word, but they were using it) far exceeds the traditional idea of going to a third world country and hammering a few nails into a piece of wood. I never had the desire to go on a mission trip because I thought it was unfair to the people who actually live where I would be travelling. From the natives' perspective: this white kid with clothes and shoes and obviously enough money to fly on an airplane, comes to town and builds us a new house because our old house was such a piece of $hit (in the white kid's mind) that we needed a new one. It just didn't add up for me. What I failed to realize over the years is the fact that being missional can take on many forms. You provide a mission when you let someone cut in traffic, or when you pre-pay someone's order at Starbucks or when you comfort someone who is hurting. To me, these are better missions because they are done in everyday scenarios and have an immediate impact on someone's life (and you don't have to fly somewhere to do it). 

So how can I apply this to my life? What is my mission? 

I spend an excruciating amount of time alone in training. It's my choice. I don't get compensated for racing and as of this year, no longer even receive free shoes or nutrition. But I love the therapy that can be achieved in solidarity so I continue to do it because it makes me feel alive. However, I've recently come to the realization that something is missing this time around (triathletes train using seasons and blocks---I am chest deep in the 2016 season and my most challenging block for IMVM). I feel like God is telling me that I need to take some of the pressure off of myself and begin using this sport as a way to mission to others. It first hit me during the small group meeting on Monday and again yesterday in the pool...you're too wrapped up on how this benefits YOU and haven't even thought about how it could be a mission to OTHERS. So what can I do to immediately impact someone else's life? I'm going to add another discipline to the race: prayer. 

Upon posting this for the world to see, I will begin drafting an email to my immediate contacts to ask for prayer requests to be sent my way. Over the next six weeks and leading up to race day, I will pray during training for every request that I receive. It's easy to accomplish with a pen, a note card and a zip lock baggie. This will be my mission and I hope it brings peace to many.

Ironman Vineman is six weeks away as of this writing and I begin my four longest training weeks starting tomorrow with a 5 hour ride followed by a 30min run. Sunday asks for 2:30 on the trail. I continue to pray for strength and praise God for the ability to do what I do--I am excited to add much more to my prayers to follow. 

Kelly

 

I'm Sore as F*ck Today - The Age-Grouper Manifesto

This post concludes a lengthy sabbatical from writing and pretty much everything in my life having to do with triathlon. I don't think it's fair to say that I've "caught the triathlon bug" again, rather the fire inside was extinguished to deal with other shit. Sometimes that's life: you have to stop what you enjoy to deal with other shit. No more cursing, I promise. Let me now add one large and extremely important caveat...my life is perfect. I have a lovely wife and son who are my everything, a truly amazing family and group of friends, and my career is flourishing. This is life on the surface. Internally, however, I struggle with many things that I'd rather not get into in this blog. It's the constant battle to find inner peace that brings me back to the training. The training is my therapy-- the training makes me feel alive.


I'm sore as f*ck today (last one, I swear). I'm now in week 8 of a 24 week crusade to race Ironman Vineman (140.6) on July 30 in Napa/Sonoma. I haven't trained for or raced Ironman since 2013 and I am doing everything differently this time. And I believe that is a good thing. While I'm on the same journey as many other people out there, to travel 140.6 miles in under 17 hours, I have learned a lot over the last 4 years and am subscribing to a different set of values than I did last time. This is my age-grouper manifesto in five points.


Triathlon Costs Money
Entry fees into Ironman Vineman cost me $800. I have two gym memberships because there is no pool at the gym downtown near my office. I spend countless dollars on sports nutrition to fuel my workouts, prevent illness and injury and to recover properly. At some point, if you choose to be competitive, you will likely need a time trial bike. They don't give these away to age-groupers--see below. Goggles break after capitulating due to too much chlorine exposure. Shoe treads wear out. Triathlon kits are different than cycling kits. You subscribe to TrainingPeaks, VirtualTraining, Strava, MayMyRide, MapMyRun, etc. etc. It truly is a billion dollar enterprise. This sport is expensive.


Only Professional Triathletes are Sponsored
This is a product-centric sport and there are an average of 2,500 people competing in each race who (to the product vendors) are nothing more than swimming/cycling/running net zero marketing budgets. Unless you are paid for performance or paid to use a certain product, you are actually paying manufacturers to actively market the products they make. Facebook and Instagram are full of people who are "brand ambassadors," i.e., they get a 20% discount on the products they market on social media or get priority bike maintenance (at cost) and a free racing kit. For some reason, the sport is a culture of ambassadorships and attempts at being sponsored. In actuality, you'd have to quit your day job, move to Boulder, train all-day-long-every-day and be a natural endurance athlete to even have a shot at getting paid in this sport. I'm willing to bet the odds are less than 1%. Nothing in this sport is free, and the people you enter the water with are not sponsored athletes.


Work on Your Engine
The best advice I ever got in this sport was when I was shopping for my first time trial bike. I walked into the bike shop wearing a triathlon finisher shirt, my Rudy Project sunglasses and my Newton shoes. The dude who owned the place came over and asked me what I was looking for and I told him I wanted a bike that would make me faster. I swear to God, he looked at me, said "it's not the bike, it's your engine" then turned around and walked away. I didn't get it then, but I get it now. Your body will do what you want it to, but it makes you train it before you take it there. It's a safety system we are all born with. If you want to be a faster cyclist, cycle more and increase your power numbers. If you want to run faster, run intervals when you train. Same with swimming. Speed is a gift that is given for hard work.


There are No Shortcuts
If you want to beat the 17 hour shot clock in an Ironman, you better be able to swim 2.4 miles + cycle 112 miles + run 26.2 miles in under 17 hours. It's a pretty simple concept. In other words, you better be able to swim nonstop for 1.5hrs, your longest bike ride better be more than 90 miles and you better be able to run a marathon. Any training plan or coach that tells you differently belongs in the recycle bin (they're garbage). If your plan tells you to run for 1:30, then run for 1:30...don't run for 1:20 and call it good. There's a legitimate difference between the two. It takes weeks upon weeks (maybe years?) of preparation to get the body ready to endure the physicality that comes with endurance racing. In this sport, unpreparedness is dangerous.


You Chose to do This    
This is not a sport you participate in against your will--there has to be more to it than that. Most people have a story and a fire burning inside of them that allows them to keep moving forward when their brain and body give up the fight. People tell me all the time, "I'm Type A so I love this" or "I was a distance runner in high school, so this is fun." It's not enough to sustain you through a six hour bike session or a 3 mile swim, forget about doing it for 24 weeks straight leading up to a race! At some point in your time in this sport you will come to the revelation that you chose to do this and you'll have to make a decision as to whether or not you can continue doing it. If you don't have the fire, you better find a reason to race or you'll quickly burn out.


I guess this post is as good as any I could come up with to both jump back into blogging and jump back into training. I find myself more focused than ever on my training and there is less pressure because I have a grasp on what I am building up to. I'm not worried about what everyone else is doing and for the first time since I started this in 2012, I am learning about my body and how it responds to the training.  I only wish I would have taken a different approach to the last few years, but I learned the hard way and will not forget theses lessons. Here's hoping the racing continues so the lessons do as well.


KLB

2015 USAT National Championships - Pre

I have a very detailed memory of a time when I was eleven years old. It was summer time and we were living in Odessa. My mother had taken my brother and I with her to the grocery store and we were walking out with the guy who had bagged our groceries (a practice that is lost these days). The guy, who must have been eighteen at the time and probably preparing for his senior year of high school, asked me what grade I was going into. When I told him sixth grade, his response was simply, "man you have a long way to go." I agreed.

Now nothing seems like a "long way to go." Days come and go at the speed of light and seem to melt together, and I find it increasingly difficult to discern the activities. I work pretty much non-stop while I am in the office and once home, we don't sit down until Jack is asleep. If breathing was not a passively instinctual activity, I wouldn't remember to do it.

"The trouble is, you think you have time." - Buddha

When I signed up for the 2015 USAT National Championship race last December, I had every intention of making it the "A" race for this year. I would ride the course virtually on the bike trainer, run 10k's all year long and swim 1500m 4x/week until it became a warm-up session. I was going to be in the best shape of my life when I landed in Milwaukee. What I failed to calculate was burning myself out on a 70.3 in April and moving twice in early and late July. The trouble absolutely is, you only think you have time. Twenty-four years later and I find I still have a long way to go, it's just the metaphor has changed.

To avoid making excuses before the race even begins, I will say that I am in good enough shape to finish the race. Performances in the last three sprints have placed me in the top 5 of my age group each race. My bike power is elevated and my transitions into running feel much better than they did a year ago. Swim times have declined and no analysis is needed to understand that I spend less time in the water than I should. Nonetheless, I will likely finish in the middle of the pack (I believe there are 200+ men 35-39) hopefully sub 2:20. Leg specific goals are a 30:00 swim split, 1:05 bike split and a 43:00 run split. 2 mins total in transition. Not the times that qualified me for this race, but I am working with what I have right now.

I did take the time to update my race history here:

Travelling for a race is a race in and of itself. There is a logistical component that does not exist when you only race locally...bike had to be dropped off last Saturday, pedals removed and race wheels locked on. It will arrive in Milwaukee on Thursday. Emily and I fly out of Houston on Thursday morning and will head down to the transition area for packet pickup, bike pickup and hotel check-in. Friday morning I will head down to the race site to ride my bike, get a quick swim in and pace off a short run along the lake in an effort to acclimate before the race on Saturday. Then it's off to bike check-in and the athlete briefing, followed by attempts to stay off of my feet and take in fluids and good calories. At some point I will have to remind myself to have fun...I am excited to be sticking around for another day to watch my good friend Sam race the sprint on Sunday. There's a peace I receive from racing, but true fulfillment comes from spectating and cheering on competitors who are out on the course. Sam will do well and we'll be out there to support him to the finish.

In the midst of all of the turmoil I still find myself thankful. Thankful that we were able to move back into town and into a neighborhood where we can plant some roots. Thankful that we are all healthy. Thankful that I continue to enjoy this crazy sport and am able to participate. Eternally thankful for my family and friends who support me on this self-fulfilling journey.

Will report back after returning to Houston.

The Fear - Anger - Respect paradigm

I live my life in a constant state of fear. Not fear of tangibles such as spiders, heights or clowns, rather of the intangibles such as failure and embarrassment. As IMTX70.3 has become more than a spec in the distance, I can feel the fear coming on and so began my thinking about why we as humans share this emotion. On my bus ride this morning I came up with what I will call the Fear Anger Respect paradigm. I'll save you the wikipedia trip: a paradigm is a set of forms that all contain a certain element, in this case fear or anxiety. I believe fear is the root cause of two mutually exclusive effects: anger and respect.

I'll start with anger because, in my humble opinion, it is the worst of the two effects. I can trace back all of my anger to a certain fear: fear of the loss of control. When someone cuts me off in traffic, I get angry. It really has nothing to do with that person in particular, more so because I am no longer in control of my environment. Anger is also prevalent at work perhaps more in the form of frustration, a byproduct of anger. I am frustrated when co-workers (or my boss) do not contribute to a project because I cannot control the output of others. Control and anger have an inverse relationship: as control declines, anger increases. You get the idea.

The more applauding effect of fear is respect. When I was a kid my brother and I feared our father when we broke something or got into trouble at school. This was out of respect. I am a God fearing person because I respect the gravity of my worldly choices and how they affect my afterlife. It suffices to say that a lack of fear might also indicate a lack of respect. I have countless examples of people who have committed to pursuing some sort of endurance sport only to fail in finishing the event, or even the training program. These are the same folks who when asked how training was going, would typically answer by throwing in a "I'm not really worried about it." Contrary to the relationship with anger, respect and fear have a direct relationship. The more I fear something, the more I respect it and vice-versa.

A Biblical response to fear is taken from Paul's speech to Timothy in 2 Timothy 1:7, where he attempts to motivate Timothy to press onward in his ministry. "For God hath not given us the spirit of fear; but of power, and of love, and of a sound mind." I take what Paul is preaching as a reminder that we are not to be fearful if we trust that God made us perfect in creation. Fear comes from us essentially getting in the way of God's will for our lives. This encroachment may cause undue anger from a perceived loss of control. With regard to my second point above, I believe respecting someone or something is the result of a sound mind. You are right to give respect where it is due. You are right to have butterflies when you are going to attempt something bigger than yourself. 

I consider myself extremely lucky to have found a hobby that reminds me to put aside my control issues and let my body do the work. 

On Sunday I wrapped up my final brick workout prior to IMTX70.3 which takes place this Sunday April 26. Since mid-January, I have logged 86 workouts and will complete 4 more prior to Sunday. What a journey of self-improvement it has been...I feel like I am in the best shape of my life both physically and mentally, and I am still finding inspiration on the spiritual side of things so I am confident to continue the pursuit. 

After 3.5 years of doing this, am I fearful of the race? Absolutely. But my fear is not for the lack of control but rather a respect for the sport and the distance. I know when I jump in that water, take off on my bike and throw on my running shoes, for at least these 4-6 hours (hopefully 4:48) all is right with the world and I am using the power, love and sound mind that God gave me. That is all the control I need, and that is the beauty of this for me. Taking something with so many variables for error and turning it into a success each time you enter the finisher's chute. 

For those who care to follow my progress:

http://www.ironman.com/triathlon/events/americas/ironman-70.3/texas.aspx#axzz3XrqzyA6L

Bib #1920